The Shogunate troops stationed on Yashiori Island had never felt the air so tense before. Just one person had arrived, one had died, one had departed—and the world suddenly seemed completely different.
Why did the newcomer come? On the surface, it was clear; in truth, it was unclear.
How did the blond man died? It wasn't clear at all.
What reason did the one who left departed? It was unclear before, now it was worse.
Everything was shrouded in uncertainty, yet the troops had still been forced to glimpse fragments of the truth—no wonder rumors were spreading like wildfire.
…
"When I heard General Haimon admit to colluding with the Fatui, I was stunned. Do we really have people among us colluding with the Fatui? Those bastards want to destroy Yashiori Island along with all the civilians and us soldiers!"
"You only just got stunned? The moment that blond died in camp, I knew something was wrong. I just couldn't put my finger on it…"
"Believe it or not, I have never colluded with the Fatui."
"Same here. Who would want to work with those troublemaking lunatics?"
"Profit. It's always about profit. Isn't there a saying—'For enough profit, most people will risk anything'? If you can't understand something, just look at it from the beneficiary's perspective."
"Anyway, from how things look, there must be someone in the Shogunate colluding with the Fatui. No one doubts that anymore, right?"
"I feel stuck between two opposite thoughts: 'I don't believe anyone would collude with the Fatui,' and 'I know for certain someone did.'"
"You think… it could be General Haimon?"
"If you're so curious, why don't you go ask him yourself?"
"M–Me? I still want to live!"
The nameless soldier shook his head helplessly. An hour had passed since the confrontation at the front lines, yet General Seigen Haimon remained holed up in his tent, refusing to respond to the outside world. He certainly had patience.
But the army's morale had plummeted. Their fighting spirit was gone. Outside, the sea swarmed with resistance troops waiting to strike; inside, whispers of collusion with the Fatui muddied the air. If Kujou Masahito were still here, he could have stabilized the situation.
But General Haimon could not.
Though now the supreme commander of the Shogunate Army on Yashiori Island, he did not bear the name Kujou.
In Inazuma's tri-commission system: the Yashiro Commission oversaw rituals and culture, the Kanjou Commission finance and trade, and the Tenryou Commission law and the military.
The very first head of the Tenryou Commission bore the Kujou name. The lineage continued unbroken to this day. The army was selected, trained, and commanded by the Kujou clan; every Shogunate general had borne the Kujou name. In truth, the army obeyed the Kujou clan above all else.
Normally no soldier would dare disobey orders. But now, the eldest son of the Kujou family—a man ranked just beneath the Shogun herself—had been recalled, his life uncertain. If he could not protect himself, what weight did the words of an outsider like General Haimon truly carry?
The army wouldn't last another hour before breaking apart.
The nameless soldier sighed. "Doesn't anyone care about General Masahito? Will he really be executed?"
"I heard he angered the Fatui. The Fatui have close ties with the Tenryou Commissioner, and then…"
"Even a tiger won't eat its own cubs. I don't believe it…"
"What if the Fatui blackmailed the Commissioner? Like, they had evidence of his crimes, and if he didn't obey, they'd expose him to the Shogun?"
"Wouldn't collusion with the Fatui already incur the Shogun's wrath…?"
"So maybe the Commissioner tried to cover it up, and then…"
"Then we should rescue General Masahito! The Commissioner is the real traitor, while General Masahito is aligned with the Shogun's will!"
"That depends on General Haimon's orders. Acting without them would be court-martial."
"What kind of spineless soldiers are you?!"
"Forget pride… Better to join the resistance than collude with the Fatui!"
"Forget pride… Better to defect than die in vain to Fatui schemes!"
"Then why don't you try breaking through the resistance lines alone and rescuing Masahito yourself?"
"N–No, we'd have to go together, of course…"
"So, you're trying to incite mutiny?"
"I'm not! I didn't say that!"
Time crept by. Barely half an hour later, the nameless soldier saw multiple officers rush into Haimon's command tent, only to leave looking deeply unsettled. Meanwhile, the resistance kept up their relentless psychological warfare from their ships:
"Don't let the Fatui succeed! Don't betray your conscience!"
"Lay down your arms, no killing—join us in justice!"
If the resistance launched an all-out assault, the Shogunate troops would still fight for their lives, even with shattered morale.
But the resistance's "Divine Priestess of Watatsumi" knew better. She wielded a slow, merciless knife—not against flesh, but against the mind.
…
"By Kujou Masahito's pace, he should have reached the Kujou estate by now, shouldn't he?"
The "Divine Priestess of Watatsumi" suddenly called out, her voice amplified by elemental power, echoing across the camp.
The nameless soldier's heart skipped a beat. That meant—if General Masahito's life was in danger, then there wasn't much time left. She had lit the fuse.
Silence. Silence. Then, inevitably, an explosion.
A major general roared at Haimon's tent: "I refuse to be as disloyal and dishonorable as you!"
This general, it was said, had been personally nurtured by Masahito. Half the camp was filled with Masahito's direct subordinates… including Haimon.
The major general clearly intended to rescue Masahito.
Well, what else could one expect? He was their direct commander, showering them with favor for years. Now, with the Divine Priestess speaking with such conviction, even if the truth was uncertain, they had to at least make a show of loyalty.
"Those who wish to rescue General Masahito, follow me!"
A smattering of soldiers responded—just enough to crew a medium-sized warship.
"No one else? Are you all so spineless?"
Why risk charging the resistance fleet with so few men? Better to stay put.
"Hmph! Then we'll go alone!"
The small warship sailed defiantly into the resistance fleet—a suicidal move.
But then—
"I admire your loyalty. Surrender your weapons and armor, and I will let you leave safely—I swear this in the name of Watatsumi's Divine Priestess and the Watatsumi Omikami."
The nameless soldier watched from afar as the general and fewer than a hundred men hesitated, then complied.
And then—
"General Masahito has shown me great kindness. I must return to rescue him!"
"I'll go too!"
"Count me in!"
Strangely, these weren't Masahito's men at all. In fact, many were those least connected to him—pampered scions sent by Narukami's noble families to earn glory. Expecting victory, they had instead been surrounded, leaderless, with the "ward bomb" looming. They were terrified.
But they had plenty of retainers. With their loud declarations, their cry of loyalty spread.
Though their combined numbers might have broken the siege, instead they meekly surrendered arms and armor to the resistance.
The nameless soldier grew uneasy. Already a third of the camp was gone. How could the rest resist?
Now staying behind was the real danger.
Then he remembered Masahito had once shown him personal kindness. He rallied his comrades: "General Masahito risked his life for us. We must rescue him!"
"You're right!"
"I agree!"
The army camp was soon half-empty.
…
"Those who remain—stop resisting needlessly. Yashiori cannot be held under these conditions. Why sacrifice your lives for the Fatui? Surrender your weapons, armor, and ships, and I will grant you safe passage off Yashiori—I swear this in the name of Watatsumi's Divine Priestess and the Watatsumi Omikami."
…
Without warning, in the midst of an ordinary day, Kujou Sara had awoken to a letter from her clan, summoning her to Yashiori Island to replace her elder brother as general and swiftly seize Watatsumi Island.
But amphibious warfare was never simple. Landing operations demanded precise knowledge of terrain, tides, and enemy positions. Defensible beaches were heavily guarded, while undefended ones were unsuitable. With only a few favorable tidal windows, every move was perilous.
Once soldiers disembarked, they were slow targets for enemy archers. Losses were unavoidable. Then came supply problems and fighting in unfamiliar terrain.
Her brother's strategies were too rigid, too cautious—easily countered by the enemy's cunning strategist.
Progress had been stagnant for some time. Reassignment was foreseeable, but this abrupt replacement, without even a formal handover, suggested hidden reasons…
Boom!
A jolt from below interrupted Kujou Sara's thoughts.
"What happened?"
"Lady Sara, we may have struck a reef!"
"This route has been sailed countless times. How could there be reefs?"
Just as she said this, another boom sounded, followed by a shout:
"The hull is leaking! Men, to me!"
Boom!
A third impact, and now water could be heard gurgling inside the ship.
Sara sighed, leapt into the sea, and immediately spotted a shadowy figure under the hull. She summoned lightning in her hand—but underwater, her energy drained abnormally fast.
The figure casually blocked with a rock shield, while his other hand churned a water vortex, battering the ship's keel.
"Heh! Underwater, you can't beat me!"
How could he even speak underwater?
Sara's eyes narrowed. Dodging a few water blades, she decided to abandon the fight. She surfaced and ordered: "Turn toward the shore. We must abandon ship!"
Caught off guard by her decisiveness, the black-robed figure hesitated, but after punching a fourth hole in the hull, he darted above the waves.
"Who are you?"
"Name's Little White Dragon, the Black Stripe of the Waves! From now on, this sea belongs to me. Want to pass? Pay the toll!"
"What nonsense. Do you even know this is a Tenryou Commission vessel?"
"Doesn't matter who you are. Pay the toll!"
"Oh… so you're trying to stop us from reaching Yashiori?"
"You've got too much imagination."
Sara scoffed, unfurling her black tengu wings. With lightning coursing through them, she soared from the sinking ship toward land. "March to Yashiori on foot once ashore. I'll fly ahead."
"Hey! If you leave, none of these sailors will survive!"
Sara ignored his threats, accelerating with a burst of thunder.
"Damn!"
The black-robed man unleashed dozens of wind blades at the ship—but two Vision-bearers silently blocked them all.
"Che!"
Clicking his tongue, the figure mounted a sword, riding the wind in pursuit.
"You're making me look like a clown here…"
Sara was surprised at his strange flying technique, but wasted no words, only pushing her speed higher.
"Hey! Hey!"
"You're still keeping up?"
"I see an opening! Wind's Grand Ode (Pseudo)!"
A giant vortex of wind appeared not beneath them, but ahead. Over a hundred wind currents spun rapidly, dragging at her with enormous force. Sara, unable to avoid, was finally slowed.
Instantly, a cube-shaped prison of stone encased her, every crack resealing as soon as she struck it.
Against a speed-type opponent, the black-robed man had little choice. His attacks couldn't land. But now he had her trapped.
"Let's see who outlasts whom."
"Who are you, really?"
"I want to know how Kujou Masahito was dealt with."
"So, you are—!"
"Did he tell you about that?"
"Damn you!"
"The Tenryou Commission colluding with the Fatui—you know about it, don't you?"
"No! You're just spreading sedition!"
Pouring all his power into the reinforced stone prison, the black-robed man sat back, idly shaking a sandglass.
And waited.