Author warning: This chapter includes sexual violence–related content that may be upsetting. These themes are important to the story but may not be suitable for all readers. Please take care while reading.
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That night, I couldn't sleep.
The war camp had quieted, but it wasn't peaceful. Hundreds of tents stretched across the beach like pale graves, embers glowing faintly between them. Martial Artists slept everywhere—some snoring openly, some meditating, some simply lying still with weapons within reach.
Hideyoshi still wasn't back.
I lay on my back staring at canvas, my ribs aching every time I breathed too deeply, my thoughts refusing to settle.
My Martial Path.
When will I ever find it?
What do I want?
...Can I even have one?
Still... what kind of Martial Artist do I want to become?
I didn't have an answer. Every time I came close to one, it slipped away.
Shit just doesn't feel right. I feel like something is missing.
So I got up.
I slipped past the tents, past snores and low murmurs, my tail flicking restlessly behind me. The sea breeze was cool, heavy with salt and smoke. The further I walked, the quieter the camp became, until only the village lights remained ahead.
Odani, huh?
A small fishing village. This place reminded me a lot of Owari... but a lot fishier.
As I stepped between the first huts, I heard it.
A scream.
My body froze before my mind caught up.
Another cry followed. Muffled. Desperate.
I moved, keeping to the shadows as the sound led me down a narrow path between wooden homes. Shutters slammed shut as I passed. Doors bolted. Lamps dimmed.
They knew.
They all knew.
And none of them came out.
The screams led me to a small clearing behind a half-collapsed hut.
Three men.
Two Martial Apprentices, drunk and laughing, their clothes loose and disordered. One Martial Squire sat on crates nearby, arms crossed, watching like this was entertainment.
They were surrounding a girl.
Her ragged clothes were torn, hands shaking as she tried to cover herself, face streaked with dirt and tears. She screamed again when one of the Apprentices grabbed her wrist.
"No—please—someone help—!"
"Come on and be nice to your new protectors!" One of them said.
My head hurt.
My heart ached.
The sound dug into something old and rotten inside me. Reigniting old scars.
Earth. Three drunk men. A girl needing help. My death.
My breath came shallow. Heat crawled up my spine. My hands clenched so hard my nails bit into my palms.
These fucking bastards will die.
I took a step forward.
A hand caught my wrist.
I spun—
Blue eyes.
It was the cool girl.
She stood beside me, jaw tight, her grip firm but not forceful.
"…Don't," she said quietly.
I stared at her with rising anger.
"What?" My voice came out rough. "You're seeing that!"
"I do," she said. "That's why I'm stopping you."
My tail lashed behind me.
"They're about to defi—"
"I know. It's despicable."
"So why—"
"Because if you do anything," she cut in, "you'll get your family killed."
I froze.
She took a breath, choosing her words carefully.
"The clan... looks the other way," she said with shame. "Not because it's right. Because Kinzoku is already bleeding Martial Artists. If we lose any more fighters, the clan loses even more battles."
"All because of these Internal wars for territory, every Squire matters. Every Apprentice matters. For Nobles, this is an easy way to incentivize them to stay in the clan. A prize of sorts." She said in a disgusted tone.
She looked at me, eyes sharp.
"And you're just a peasant."
That hit harder than a punch.
"An outsider," she continued. "So what if you're a Squire? You have no clan. No noble blood. No name. If you act, you not only put yourself at risk, but also your family."
My chest burned. How is this a thing?
"So we just let it happen?"
Her grip tightened "The Squire over there is a Noble... I cannot disobey... I apologize."
"This isn't the first time this happened you meant to say?"
I laughed.
It came out wrong.
"I understand," I said.
And I did.
Truly.
They treat us like bugs to be stepped on whenever they want to.
That understanding cooled something in me.
Not extinguished it.
Condensed it.
A rage that didn't shake. Didn't scream.
A rage that waited.
All I could hear was static.
"Thank you for warning me." I tell her calmly.
She hesitated.
Then she let go.
"…I'll pretend I never saw you," she said.
I stepped forward.
She stayed behind, watching.
I ran at full speed.
The first Apprentice never saw me.
I closed the distance in a blink and drove my elbow into his jaw. Bone cracked. He dropped like a sack of grain, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The second turned, eyes wide.
Too slow.
A knee to the stomach. A palm strike to the throat. He collapsed choking, air fleeing his lungs.
The Squire finally moved.
My tail shivered and snapped upward, the warnings screaming through my spine.
I ducked.
A blade passed inches over my head, the wind of it stinging my skin.
I pivoted and drove my punch into his chest.
BOOM.
He flew back, skidding across dirt and stone, crashing into a broken fence, out of sight.
I turned immediately to the girl.
She was sobbing, curled in on herself, eyes wide with terror.
When she saw me, she flinched.
Of course she did.
I was a Martial Artist.
I crouched slowly, keeping my hands visible.
"It's okay," I said. "I won't hurt you."
She shook her head violently.
"Please no… You're all the same…"
Something twisted inside me.
"I'm a peasant," I said quietly. "Like you."
She hesitated.
Then scrambled to her feet and ran, barefoot and crying, disappearing between the huts.
My heart still ached. This happened everywhere?
I stood.
Behind me—
"Fucking peasant!"
I twisted aside just as the Noble Squire lunged, his strike tearing through the space where my head had been.
Around us, tents rustled. Figures emerged. Martial Artists waking, drawn by the disturbance. They formed a loose circle, watching.
This was it. No turning back... but I didn't care.
I remembered how Mikan was ignored, how my sisters were almost defiled by a Martial Artist from Kinzoku.
I remembered Martial patrols in Owari, shoving villagers aside, laughing, taking what they wanted.
I remembered father losing his position in the clan, losing his beloved martial path because of these nobles.
All this time... I felt helpless. I felt weak. I hate myself to thinking that's just how it is.
Pathetic.
No more.
The Squire spat at me.
"Lowlife scum. You thought you could stand toe-to-toe with me?"
I'm no longer the man on Earth. The man so easily killed. The man so easily dealt with.
"Just because they showed you a bit of attention, you act like you're big?" He continued.
"I will personally make sure you don't get into Kinzoku."
I'll fucking kill...
...No, I mustn't let my rage consume me.
It will endanger my family. Remember what she said.
In an effort to calm myself down, I take deep breathes.
"Come fight me."
He ignored my words. "...Furutsu family in Owari right? Why don't I pay your worthless peasant family a visit?"
I straightened, fists clenched, heart steady.
He laughed.
"Grovel at my feet and beg for forgiveness you peasant scum!"
Somewhere in the back of my mind, something finally clicked into place. At long last.
I won't kill this man.
"...You people wanted to know my Martial Path?"
But I can make him want to die.
"Let me show you."