The sword was the favored weapon of his faction’s nobility, and Ryu had eschewed it long ago for weapons more suitable for his fighting style. He did not regret this choice by any means. If he was to blend into his House once more, however, he would have to grow accustomed to the sword again. His suppressed strength would take some getting used to as well; [Shadow of One’s Self] had reduced him to a new Master Class without a Technique and early Monarch Stage cultivation. He was glad it was considered disrespectful to ask about his return. To his family, it would look as if he hoped to use the war with a Bugs as a way to gain resources.
The plain sword in his hand danced to the beat of his memories, while his mind delved into a quiet, simple place to watch. A sidestep flowed from a cut. An upward slash followed. His imaginary opponent responded in kind, and before Ryu knew it, he was lost in mindless repetition, his muscles trying to revive the movements they’d once held as dear as walking. Before he realized it, the ashes of night had been blown away and replaced with the fresh flame of morning.
A jingle rang through his quarters, followed by the sound of Kaito’s voice. “Ryu, do you still want to get registered today? If you have need of clothes with the House colors, I can have a tailor brought up.”
Ryu cursed, allowing the sword to fade into his storage ring. His shirt was in a poor state after the night of exercise, and the rest of his outfit fared little better. He walked out of his training room and to the entry room of his quarters, sliding the rice paper door open.
“Call up the tailor.”
An hour or two later, Ryu was dressed in ‘proper’ clothes. Considered the new style in the Houses, his outfit consisted of a dark blue coat that split at his waist like a robe and stiff black military pants. His sword was buckled to a shiny black belt, and across the back of his coat was the white wolf sigil of House Ishida. He felt like a buffoon, but it turned out the Aristocracy did not agree with Ryu’s simple tastes. More’s the pity.
The servants had prepared horses for them when they arrived in the stables, and Ryu hopped onto the saddle of a calm black destrier. Kaito and a few other men-at-arms would make up his ‘retinue’ to the Aristocracy’s administrative offices; the other nobles were enjoying their time away from the front lines, a rest Ryu was not eager to deprive them of. Even having Kaito and his men made Ryu itch with guilt.
Before long, the small group was on the street, their movement accompanied by an orchestra of clacking hooves on pavement. Nobles in enchanted carriages or on horseback rode around them, and Ryu looked at the rich manors and castles they passed by. The Aristocracy seemed like a different world compared to the business-like buildings and glass towers of the Enchanters’ Guild, much less the small neighborhood his own house was in.
“I was serious last night, you know,” Ryu said, trying to keep his hand from straying to his sword when another retinue got close to their own. “I have no intentions of taking command of the Ishida forces here.”
Kaito chuckled. “I almost wish you would, cousin. Command… Let’s just say it’s not what I had imagined it would be. If you ever had the urge, I would not hesitate to turn over my men to you.”
“How many did you bring?”
“About two thousand. Neither our side or the Bugs have brought up a percentage of the numbers we’re capable of, and as far as I can tell, both sides seem content to battle for the Gate with small groups of elites rather than massive armies. Much more manageable that way, I guess.”
Ryu grunted. “And you’re in command of all two thousand?”
“Gods, no,” Kaito said, laughing. “My forces number only about five hundred, and half of those I’ve delegated to my brother Asahi. Emiko commands another five hundred herself. The Elder manages the rest, thankfully.”
“Inosuke does not command?”
Kaito shook his head. “No, he lacks the temperament for it, or so he said. He is sort of like a… hit-man, I guess. If a powerful Bug shows up, Inosuke goes to meet them.”
“Is he that strong?” Ryu asked.
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“Sort of. A lot of times, he’s more of a distraction until an Aristocracy Master Class shows up. That or Emiko helps him.”
Ryu chewed the inside of his lip for a moment. “You’ll have little to worry about now, cousin,” he said. Gods, but he felt false.
“How so?”
“I’m a Master Class.”
Kaito’s horse stopped, his guards halting to match their master. “We must inform the main family! Lord Haru will want to know of this.”
“Aye.” His hands were white-knuckled on the horse's reins, his jaw clenched tight enough to pop.
Hate was a hard thing. It was beaten into shape like a lump of iron on the smith’s anvil, and the heat was later quenched from it, leaving a cold, sharp thing in its place. Aye, hate was a thing meant for lesser men to sink past the depths they already frequented, and it seemed to be all Ryu had left to him. Hated Haru. Hated Lucius. Hated himself.
His dark mood hung over him like an axe ready to fall on the headsman’s block, and he found himself unable to throw it off and laugh with Kaito like they were old friends. The man seemed unable to notice, however.
“This is great. You, Inosuke, and some of our stronger fighters can form your own squad of hunters. We’ll win much honor without having to rely on foreign Masters!” The man seemed jubilant, and Ryu was not rude enough to burst his bubble. Let a man have his delusions of honor. It was likely the only thing that kept him from having nightmares and sleepless nights, and to rip away that layer of protection was to make the man as miserable as himself.
“Sounds good,” Ryu said. They made it to the administrative offices soon after.
The Premier Aristocracy’s administrative offices lacked the flair the rest of the district had. It turned out that no matter what force it was, bureaucracy found a way to end up in a plain, boring building. He respected it. One should always be true to one’s self, and there was a certain honesty in keeping soul-crushing affairs in a soul-crushing building.
Kaito led him into a small lobby. The scratches of pen on paper greeted them, the smells of ink, old paper, and contempt not far behind. An older woman with glasses greeted them from a white desk in the marble room.
“Can I help you?” If he had not seen her lips move, Ryu could have imagined the dark-skinned woman was dead.
“Yes, we need to register my cousin here with our forces.” Kaito’s voice was pleasant, patient, and friendly. Ryu felt… none of those things. He could smell a paper tempest brewing, and the thought of his immediate future did little for his foul mood.
---
They left the offices an hour later.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Kaito said. The young noble started to talk about going to a restaurant or something, but Ryu hushed him with a whisper.
“Who’s that?”
Kaito’s face darkened as his eyes followed Ryu’s nod. “Gaius Caesar. His family’s support of the House Hojo is the last thing preventing Lord Haru from declaring himself Shogun, and it seems he’s made it his duty to oppose us here, too.”
The man in question was well-built, sitting atop a chestnut stallion with a smile white enough to blind the sun. His blonde hair was close-cropped, and the longsword at his side did not seem mere decoration. His retinue of guards rode towards their own.
“Ishida,” Gaius said, inclining his head. “Who’s this with you?”
“My cousin, Ishida Ryu,” Kaito said, smiling. Ah, right. This was polite society, and here, nobody said what they wanted to. It was a shame, really. Ryu had never been the best at such things.
“Is that so? Pleased to meet you, Ryu,” the man said, his words followed by the questing feelers of his aura.
“Aye,” Ryu grunted, his own aura clamping down on Gaius’s like a vice grip. He had little patience for politics or niceties. It turned out there were greater things to worry about than offending some noble sensibilities.
If Kaito noticed their auras, he ignored them. “Apologies, my friend, but we must return home. The fight could heat up at any moment, and we must be ready to meet it.”
Gaius smiled. “Of course, my friend. It was nice to meet you, Ryu. Good day,” he said.
Ryu’s group rode off. Kaito laughed once they were close to the Ishida keep.
“You really have been gone for ten years, haven’t you? The poor boy will probably be telling his da of the Ishida savage who shut down his aura,” he said. “He deserved it, though. It was quite bold of him to think he could get away with such a thing.”
Ryu just grunted. It was no longer a surprise to him that Kaito seemed to prize honor. The man’s worries consisted of competing with noble fops who belonged to the same side. The Bugs were the tournament grounds for him to win and lose on. Ryu could only hope he realized the truth before he reunited with the dirt.
“Kaito, Ryu!” Inosuke called from the stables. The pond and the keep looked even grander from the well-kept yard alloted for the horses. “The Elder has summoned us back to the front lines. He wants to conduct a raid, I think.”
Kaito smiled. “Let’s go then. Ryu, you’re not forced to come, but we’d love to have you.”
“I’ll come.”