'That's just how it happens,' Stas thought, shrugging mentally. 'What's the saying again? Small countries don't participate in wars? Maybe they really are neutral, but nuclear... I mean, random magical strikes don't care whether you're involved or not.'
At the moment, Stas was looking at a city that had been destroyed and carved up by large-scale magic techniques, or rather, what was left of it.
The few survivors, now more resembling vagrants, scurried away in fear, trying to hide among the ruins. Many sported festering wounds and blood-soaked bandages.
The air reeked of smoke and something foul. In a couple of places, one could make out gnawed human skeletons. Clearly, no one had even thought about removing the bodies. People had enough problems as it was.
This small town had met the fate that inevitably comes with such large-scale conflicts.
The armies of Higatsudo and Rashta had, in their maneuvers, come close by. Clashing, their soldiers spread out over a broad front, and the edge of the battle caught this wretched town. To the locals' misfortune, it wasn't just samurai fighting, but also warmasters, whose techniques had destroyed the surrounding homes and streets.
Somewhere, a fire had started, which couldn't be extinguished immediately, and everything around was submerged in a hellish abyss.
And when the fire died down, and the armies of the great countries had left, the surviving victims faced the end of their peaceful and happy lives.
A scene so familiar it was nauseating.
However, there was always something that set each of such stories apart from the rest.
"Attention," Ordyntsev looked at his subordinates standing behind him. "I'll repeat the assignment. A group of renegades has settled in this city, all from one of the clans subordinate to Sumada. They possess no lineage or special techniques. We don't even care about their clan names. We're just here for their heads."
Four serious nods were his answer.
"Kenta-san, since it is inadvisable for you to use prana needlessly, you, as well as Leviathan, are to engage in ranged combat. Seize the right moments and strike unexpectedly. Kaede, your task is to confuse their ranks and entangle them with illusions. Mari, you attack from behind. I'll take the frontal assault. Is everyone clear?"
"Hai!"
"Then let's go!"
The figures, three human and one serpentine, swiftly scattered in different directions, leaving the earthling alone on the devastated street. Ahead was a massive collapse and a crack that divided the street in two.
Without further delay, Stas casually moved forward. He easily leaped over the collapse with a focused effort of muscles and prana. What was insurmountable for an ordinary person was nothing more than a joke for a warmaster.
And everywhere he went, he felt the attentive gazes that followed him. They could be filled with different emotions, ranging from fear to hunger, but the most overwhelming was hope.
The wretched people around him, who had first lost their homes and then the remnants they had miraculously managed to keep, could now only hope for a miracle.
Ahead, there was a faint noise, and a disheveled ashigaru stepped backward onto the street. Or rather a deserter, as he had deliberately smeared his Rashta insignia with some kind of dirt.
He was dragging some filthy, overweight woman by the hair, who was hardly even screaming. She just hung limply in the bandit's hands, which made him struggle to move her.
Stas involuntarily suppressed the urge to smirk. Despite the horror of the scene, it had a humorous side.
Or perhaps Ordyntsev had just become so callous that he could laugh even at far more terrible things.
After another yank, the deserter stopped to catch his breath and come to his senses, and then he saw Stas approaching him.
The ashigaru's eyes bulged, and not only did the woman fall from his hands, but also the katana, which he, surprisingly, had happened to possess, dropped to the ground. He then ran off screaming toward his superiors.
And one could understand the bandit. Right now, Ordyntsev looked like a true nightmare to any inhabitant of this world. Expensive green samurai armor, a terrifying demonic mask, and a heavy spear in hand.
Ordinary people remembered for generations what awaited a commoner who dared to oppose a noble warrior.
But the deserter's misfortunes didn't end there. Apparently, he had tied his pants poorly earlier, so at the worst possible moment, they betrayed their owner, slipping down to his knees, causing the deserter to plant his face on the ground with a thud.
Ordyntsev, who was about to kill him, involuntarily snorted and lowered his already raised hand, canceling the stone serpent technique.
For his inadvertent reminder of Earth, Ordyntsev was willing to let the scoundrel live a little longer. After all, who could forget the infamous "gangsta rap" pants that had contributed to the arrest of more than one criminal in America?
The deserter didn't get up immediately; apparently, the blow to his head was unexpectedly serious. By the time he managed to stand, supporting his pants and limping, Ordyntsev had covered almost half the distance to him.
Fortunately, the ashigaru managed to get up and run off to warn the others.
This was again to Stas's advantage. Let the individuals he was interested in gather together. Then he wouldn't have to search for them all over.
Ordyntsev found himself wondering what he would do if he ended up in a similar situation in this world. The only thing that came to mind was that after arriving in this world, he was right to join the troops immediately.
Yes, the chances of survival in the army weren't very great. But soldiers were at least fed and somewhat valued, unlike peasants.
But why turn to banditry?
Yes, because such horror is now ubiquitous and will only get worse, they could live like kings for a few years with some luck.
But the end is always the same.
Unless the leaders manage to conceal their identities and become law-abiding citizens.
The problem is that ordinary executors can only expect death because they are too stupid to pull off such a scheme.
With these reflections, Stas reached the courtyard where the renegades and a sizable group of ashigaru deserters were waiting for him.
Along the way, a light rain began to fall. It barely wet the clothes, more annoying with its cold droplets.
There were exactly ten warmasters, but judging by their tense demeanor, the numeric advantage didn't improve their mood.
The deserters who had started to shout menacingly gradually fell silent, casting uncertain glances at their superiors.
Yet, the latter were still hesitating to act.
Finally, one of the strongest warmasters, according to Levi's intelligence, stepped forward, and Stas even managed to vaguely remember him.
Didn't he used to serve under Jishin's command?
"Greetings, Shiro the Serpent," the renegade bowed respectfully. "My name is Kai... now just Kai. Remember, we fought together against the Sansa patriarch and the supreme Avasaki? It was a great battle."
Ordyntsev showed no interest, continuing to ominously remain silent, which made the renegade grow increasingly nervous.
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"Master Serpent," Kai tried again. "I know why you're here. And I know about your power. We've all heard the rumors about you," he was right, judging by the faces of his subordinates. Fear lurked in the renegades' eyes. Some were frantically looking for the man-eating serpent hiding somewhere.
"Allow us to leave. We will never appear in these lands again and will not cause any problems!" Kai exclaimed, pushed to his limits. "We fought together! Besides, master..."
The deserter's voice grew stronger.
"You were in Gaibatsu, weren't you? We all heard how the supremes treated us, ordinary warmasters. They sacrificed all of you for their vile ambitions! We were treated the same way; we just didn't want to die anymore! That's why we left. We haven't done anything wrong."
In Kai's eyes, the evil he had done to the inhabitants of this town wasn't even considered evil. After all, they weren't warmasters, which a priori placed them on a lower level.
"That's all well and good," Stas finally spoke, abruptly cutting off Kai who was trying to say something else. "But who said I care?"
Training with Satoshi gave Ordyntsev many useful ideas and new directions for thought. But Stas wouldn't be himself if he didn't use some of them to improve old tricks.
'What's a laser? It's a narrowly focused stream of radiation. And it doesn't matter what the energy source is. So why couldn't it be ether? After all, I don't have energy problems now.'
"Don't..." That was all the renegade managed to scream before the violet ether ray that shot from Stas's lowered hand neatly punctured a hole in his heart and entered the house behind, causing a small explosion that scattered the attic.
Of course, the "ray of destruction" lacked notable combat power, but it was purple and created very quickly.
Although, the speed of propagation was a letdown. But against an advanced warmaster like Kai, it was just right.
And then death itself descended upon the panicked deserters.
Stas didn't even try to attack anymore. There was simply no need.
Seeing such a disgraceful end of their leader, half of the renegades tried to flee, immediately falling into Mari's shadow cloud, while the other half lost their minds in Kaede's illusions.
In the next instant, about five heavy steel darts flew one after another from a nearby street, piercing huge holes through the warmasters' bodies.
Leviathan's telekinesis continued to develop, increasing the speed and power of her projectiles.
Mari's father didn't stand aside either. Although he couldn't release prana outside without risking further injury to his channels, he could still pump his own body with it, increasing strength and speed.
What happens when a supreme warmaster takes, say, a metal ball and throws it with all his might?
The correct answer is that this projectile will work no worse than a cannonball.
Three of the dead were his doing.
The remaining two were finished off by Mari and Kaede, taking one each.
It's probably worth mentioning the several dozen ashigaru deserters too, but their fate was sad.
The maddening illusions of Kaede made them finish off each other. The last few bandits, trembling from visions, slit each other's throats while Stas's subordinates emerged from their hiding spots.
"It all ended so... quickly, didn't it?" Kaede looked around in annoyance. "Where are the battles? Where's the exchange of dangerous techniques and confrontation on the edge of our capabilities? Why did they just die? Maybe someone is pretending?"
"Maybe it's because, unlike you, Leviathan and I can crush this rubbish with our eyes closed?" Threw Mari while passing by, which made Kaede frown.
"Did you just yap something, or am I hearing things..."
However, the conflict was extinguished by Ordyntsev's intense gaze. In it, he mixed irritation, disapproval, and disappointment.
Is it conceivable, the fight is formally not even over yet, and they are already squabbling!
"It all ended so quickly because we're on another level," he explained to the puzzled yokai, ceasing to press the fidgeting girls with his gaze. "Since we've been assigned such dangerous tasks lately, your sense of the limits of ordinary warmasters has blurred."
Stas surveyed the aftermath of another slaughter they had caused.
"That's the horror of fighting someone who so greatly overpowers you. If even one supreme had come against us, we wouldn't have gotten off so easily. So don't relax and go check their corpses. Seal their heads in the official scroll. We still need to deliver them to Io's archive."
Stas hadn't really been involved in hunting renegades from Sumada or related clans before. As it turned out, there were subtleties to this business, too. Information about who took on such missions was strictly classified to protect the identity of the executors from the revenge of relatives.
In addition, the clan administration provided scrolls and even equipment to facilitate the capture and destruction of targets.
Ordyntsev found it amusing that Sumada spent even more effort and resources on eliminating their former comrades than on killing enemies.
But Io's proposal in a letter to transfer Stas's group only to such missions, Ordyntsev took without humor. And although Io offered an incredibly high price for each head depending on the target's rank, plus bonuses and other payments, Stas resolutely refused.
He had no intention of becoming a state-sanctioned assassin.
He guessed that it was much easier to enter such a business than to get out of it. After all, the slightest leak about the killer's identity, and there would be dozens, if not hundreds, of avengers on his tail.
"Shiro-sama," Kenta approached as always unnoticeably. Fortunately, Leviathan had the duty to always watch over the supreme, never letting him out of sight.
Family ties were one thing, but Ordyntsev wouldn't have lived to his age if he trusted people so easily.
"What is it, Kenta-san? And yes, you can use the '-san' honorific. After all, I'm simply uncomfortable that someone with your rank addresses me so formally."
"Thank you. About your words on being attacked by a supreme warmaster. I don't want to criticize you, but you do understand that not all supreme warmasters could survive an ambush attack that involves illusions, your pet's darts, my daughter's shadows, my knives, and your ray?"
"Of course, I understand that," Shiro's immediate agreement slightly soothed the displeased man. Kenta thought it was deadly dangerous to underestimate an opponent, but overestimating them wasn't good either.
Besides, the supreme was interested in his commander's reaction to criticism. Having had too many superiors in his past, he knew how important this trait was.
And so far, what he had seen pleased him, though it also made him wary.
Let's go back to the past a bit.
When Kenta heard rumors of shadow techniques being used during the siege of Gaibatsu, he immediately rushed to search for the remaining traces. He knew that the Rinako weren't there. And if he found something, so would his former clanmates.
Later, following the trail, he learned that his daughter had joined some Shiro Sumada, known as the Serpent. A person who, even at first glance, was contradictory.
And the more Kenta learned about the Serpent from his informers, the more he grew wary.
A clanless warmaster who managed to get into the main family of a Great Clan – that was serious.
His teacher was notorious even in his own clan, Jun Sumada. A bigger troublemaker, rebel, and uncouth person was hard to find. Kenta struggled to say why they even tolerated him, but suspected it was because of his strength or family ties.
Now, what can you say about a person whose confirmation of the advanced rank is done in a fight with a real dragon? Moreover, notably, Shiro came out of that fight without a single serious injury.
Of course, Kenta knew he was a good healer, but surely not to that extent, right?!
Furthermore, at the advanced rank, he distinguished himself in the battle and destruction of the head of the Sansa clan, the supreme warmaster Jirobu Sansa. Of course, he wasn't alone, but even just participating in such a fight and not dying could be considered something extraordinary.
Next, it's worth mentioning the prana-absorbing lineage. It wasn't something impossible, but it was still a rarity.
And what about his already famous technique, "stone serpents-devourers"? Who at twenty-something creates new techniques? Especially ones so effective and impressive?
Friendship with one prince and enmity with another, as odd as it may sound, didn't surprise Kenta. He already expected something like this from someone like Shiro.
The Serpent simply couldn't just be one of many. If he fights, then with a supreme, and if he befriends, then no less than a prince of a great clan, right?
A suspicious connection with a notoriously known rune master, Takehiro Satoshi, seemed quite natural against the general background. And never mind that Satoshi refused to communicate with anyone below a supreme warmaster or a blade master among the samurai.
Nevertheless, none of the information found answered the main question – what kind of person was Shiro the Serpent?
The only thing that could be said was his not-so-great sociability beyond a narrow circle of people close to him. Not the worst trait for warmasters, but one that hindered people like Kenta.
Wanting to ensure his daughter was in safe hands, Kenta made a fateful decision to put himself under the command of this young man.
Of course, the pride of a supreme warmaster hurt that he had to submit to an advanced rank, however promising, but Kenta forced himself to come to terms with it.
What was there for him, a living corpse, to complain about the opportunity to spend some time with his daughter before the end? Moreover, the Serpent immediately lived up to Kenta's best expectations, making him a teacher for his daughter.
Nonetheless, in the time that had passed, Kenta could so far admit his failure. He had no idea what plans and desires might be hidden behind those icy serpentine eyes.
However, there was good news. With each day, he became more and more convinced that, if there was a person with whom his daughter could survive the upcoming dark times, it was Shiro the Serpent.
Meanwhile, Shiro himself decided to clarify his thoughts.
"The thing is, I don't want to allow your daughter and Kaede to lose their heads because they got stronger. It's no secret that your daughter is immensely talented. She has quickly grown into a strong warmaster. Yes, her close combat skills aren't good enough, but her ability to control prana more than compensates for it. And I wouldn't want her to recklessly charge at a supreme warmaster thinking she's invincible." Stas didn't mention that his own weapon-handling skills were inferior even to Mari's.
"I fully understand and support you. Please forgive me for my doubt," Kenta bowed his head. "You understand, she's my daughter."
"Oh, don't mention it," Ordyntsev replied with a friendly smile, giving Kenta a light pat on the shoulder. "I'm very interested in your thoughts on various matters. For instance, what do you think about supreme warmasters? I won't hide that I have some ambitions to reach that rank. Essentially, I'm curious about everything you can tell me."
"Well..." Kenta was a bit taken aback. The friendliness of his interlocutor had slightly disconcerted him. It had been a long time since Mari's father had spoken so freely with anyone. "Perhaps I should start with the fact that, no matter how hard we try, even the supremes have weaknesses. No, rather, areas and arts that we have developed to a lesser extent. And if you know where and how to look, you can find these 'weaknesses.'"
"How fascinating," Ordyntsev leaned in closer. "Please continue, Kenta-san. Believe me, at this moment, I am your mos-s-st devoted listener. You might s-s-say, a student."
"Um, alright..."