They didn't hesitate. Not for a second.
The moment their leader roared, all five of the remaining dacoits surged toward us like a wall of snarling teeth and vengeance. They didn't bother with formation or discipline. Their movements were wild, fueled by fury and a thirst for payback, with each of their footstep slamming against the dirt like the sound of war drums. This wasn't about strategy. This was about revenge and they intended to deliver it with blades.
Kento and I moved fast, barely slipping into a stance before the first attacker reached us. His sword arced downward in a savage cleave aimed for my collarbone, and I twisted hard to the side, feeling the blade graze the edge of my sleeve and tear a neat line through the fabric. My response was immediate but clumsy, a desperate elbow into his gut followed by a slash across his ribs. It wasn't clean, but it was enough. The man crumpled with a growl, hitting the ground like a sack of rice and clutching his side.
Kento, meanwhile, was already deep in motion. He deflected a short axe with the flat of his blade, spun past the next strike, and slid low across the ground like he'd done it a hundred times. One fluid motion. One sweep. His attacker landed on the cobblestones with a thud that echoed through the stunned silence of the village square. Then, without pause, Kento popped back up and barked over his shoulder.
"Three on you," he called, voice steady despite the chaos. "Two on me. Want to trade?"
"I'm good," I managed between breaths, locking blades with another dacoit. "I like dying dramatically."
The next opponent was faster than the others, his sword a blur in the afternoon light. I ducked under a heavy swing, pivoted sharply, and parried his next blow just in time. Sparks leapt between our blades, and my arms shook from the impact. Behind me, I could hear Kento grunting through the rhythm of his fight--short breaths, steady footwork and precise movement.
Then came a third assailant, trying to flank me from behind.
I turned just in time, with my blade raised, but he slammed into me with the weight of a boulder. I stumbled back, with my heel catching on a cobblestone, and we both went down in a tangle of limbs and weapons. His weight crushed the air from my lungs, and before I could react, I felt cold steel nick my shoulder as he raised a dagger toward my throat.
[Adrenaline Spike Registered – Combat Sync Level 2]
[Mission Progress: 4 Fangless Eliminated]
[Inazuma Nuki: Available]
The system's voice pulsed through my skull like a heartbeat, it was not loud, not urgent, but impossibly clear. I exhaled. No panic. No hesitation. Just instinct and control.
I focused on the stillness. On the pressure beneath my ribs. The pulse of breath just before a storm breaks.
Then I drew.
The blade came alive with a sharp, hissing crack of white light, with energy leaping from hilt to tip. I slashed upward in one clean motion, slicing through the man's chest in a single flash. He was thrown backward, crashing into a pile of crates and slumping still.
I rose slowly, my chest heaving, my knees aching and my blade buzzing faintly in my hand. My vision wavered at the edges, but I was standing. Somehow, I was still standing.
Kento had just finished his own battle, knocking the last opponent unconscious with a blunt strike to the temple and letting him slump to the ground. He was covered in dust, his sleeve was torn, and his left cheek was smeared with blood but....he was smiling like he'd just won a festival game.
"Nice," I panted, offering him a nod.
"Do I get a title now?" he said, wiping his blade clean on a fallen scarf. "Kento the Semi-Terrifying?"
"More like Kento the Slightly Inconvenient," I replied, shaking out my arms and trying to keep my legs from buckling.
We turned to look around us.
The village square was still. The bodies of the dacoits lay sprawled in awkward heaps, weapons discarded, the scent of smoke and sweat still hanging in the air. Behind us, the villagers began to emerge from doorways and behind carts, faces wide-eyed with disbelief. Then, slowly, the silence broke.
First came a single clap.
Then another.
Then a cheer, rising like wind between rooftops.
Within seconds, the entire square was erupting in applause and grateful shouts. Children pointed at us with awe. A woman tried to press a flower crown into my hair. I blinked at her, stunned.
"I don't think I'm built for this," I muttered to Kento under my breath.
"Public praise?" he said, catching his breath with a grin.
"Yeah. And the flower crown."
"Shut up and smile," he replied, elbowing my arm. "You're a legend now."
We didn't wait to enjoy the applause. The moment we could, we slipped through the side alleys and made our way back toward the woods, ducking through hedges and vaulting over fences like fugitives. My muscles burned and every step made the cuts along my arm sting more sharply, but we didn't stop. We were riding the high of survival--and the low hum of dread from knowing exactly what we'd done.
The sun was setting by the time we reached the compound wall. Its light poured over the mountains like molten gold, too peaceful for what we were about to attempt.
Kento nodded at the same rotted fencepost we'd used earlier. "Same way we left?"
"Unless you've unlocked a flying technique I don't know about."
I hoisted myself over, muttering curses when my foot caught on a crooked nail. I was halfway through when a very dry voice cleared its throat behind us.
"Ahem."
We both froze.
Standing just a few feet away, arms folded like a disappointed uncle at a family dinner, was Master Ryu. His eyebrows alone looked capable of launching disciplinary actions.
He didn't speak immediately. Just stared at us with an expression carved out of centuries of patience.
"Well," he finally said, "would you like to explain why the two of you smell like blood, sweat, and bad decisions?"
Oh-Oh
.
.
.
The silence in Master Genzo's study was like a blade -- thin, sharp, and hanging just above our heads.
He stood near the window, back to us, watching the dark settle across the courtyard like he was waiting for something to confirm what he already knew. Kento and I knelt on the floor like two kids caught raiding the rice cellar, heads lowered, not daring to speak first.
Eventually, Genzo turned, his face was unreadable.
"You left the compound without permission."
"Yes, Master," I said, voice low.
"You engaged hostile threats without backup."
"Yes, Master."
"You returned injured. Exhausted. Out of breath. And you were caught climbing over the wall like a raccoon."
"Yes, Ma--wait, raccoon?"
Beside me, Kento made a noise that was definitely a snort disguised as a cough.
Genzo didn't even blink. "You think this is amusing?"
"No, Master," we both replied at once.
He exhaled through his nose and took a step forward. "You disobeyed direct clan orders. You endangered yourselves. You could've died. You could've drawn others into conflict we are not prepared to manage." His tone hardened, though it never rose. "Punishment is necessary."
Before he could finish the sentence, the paper door slid open.
A man entered--tall, well-fed, and robed in fine silks trimmed with bronze thread. A merchant, clearly, and from the golden rings on his fingers, a wealthy one. Two guards trailed behind him, each carrying a wooden chest stacked with gold coins.
"Forgive the intrusion," the merchant said with a deep bow. "But I come on behalf of the village. These two young men saved our lives today. We owe them more than words can repay. Please, Master Genzo -- accept this offering as a gesture of thanks."
He gestured to the chests. The coins in there gleamed like fire.
Genzo looked at the gold. Then at us. Then back at the merchant.
"Your gratitude is noted," he said carefully. "But rules are rules. And these two will learn them."
I braced myself for latrine duty. Or kitchen duty. Or both.
Then Genzo's gaze sharpened, and something in his mouth twitched ever so slightly.
"They will join Souta on his next mission."
Kento's shoulders slumped.
"But Master," he muttered, "no one joins Souta."
Genzo's voice was like a closing gate.
"Exactly."
I looked at Kento. He looked at me.
We were definitely going to die.