The golden towers of the Usuki royal palace gleamed so brightly in the sun that the students had to shield their eyes. Its vast walls shimmered with light, guarded by warriors in ceremonial armor.
Inside, the throne room was even more overwhelming—ceilings high enough to swallow sound, floors polished to a mirror sheen. The king of Usuki, Takehiro Hirakima, sat tall and broad on his golden throne, scarlet eyes burning like coals. At his side, Chief Myoboku Hirashima studied the students with sharp, expressionless eyes.
Sensei Hashiro knelt, bowing deeply. "We've come to receive our mission list, Chief."
Without a word, Myoboku handed him a sealed scroll. Hashiro accepted it, bowed again, and turned to leave with his students.
But before they could pass the gates, Myoboku's voice cut through the air. "That boy carries the Hirakima mark."
The words drew a grin from King Takehiro, his scarlet eyes glinting.
Outside the palace, Hatashi, Kaitara, and Tiatsuri huddled around Hashiro as he unrolled the scroll.
"Our first mission," Hashiro said, "is to travel to the Land of Smoke. We are to liberate it from the grasp of the Smoke Lord."
"Smoke Lord?" Tiatsuri raised a brow.
"One of the Seven Evil Feudal Lords of Usuki," Hatashi answered, voice low. His Devil's Eye burned faintly, as if the name itself stirred something dark inside him.
"The Seven," Hashiro explained, "each master a single Usuki technique to perfection. Their power is enough to rival armies. Do not underestimate them."
Kaitara frowned. "Mastering only one technique… doesn't that put them at a disadvantage?"
"Wrong," Hashiro said flatly. "What they lack in variety, they make up for with absolute mastery."
He listed them off one by one: the Smoke Lord, the River King, the Fire Lord, the Serpent Demon, the Storm Raider, the Venomous Slayer, and their leader—the Sun King.
Hatashi clenched his fists. "So, the Smoke Lord is first."
By dusk, they reached the outskirts of the Smoke Lord's territory. The air was thick with gray haze, the ruined village ahead nothing but ghostly silhouettes. Houses sagged like corpses, windows shattered, doors half-rotted.
"Keep your guard up," Hashiro ordered, his voice sharp.
A woman's voice drifted through the fog—silky, mocking.
"I've been expecting you, little Usuki warriors."
Shapes emerged from the mist: soldiers with blank eyes and twisted smiles. Their bodies shifted unnaturally, as though made of vapor given form.
"Smoke clones," Hatashi realized.
The army charged.
"Dragon Technique: Inferno!" Hatashi roared, flames bursting from his mouth and sweeping across the battlefield. The soldiers dissolved into smoke, reforming again only to be shredded by Tiatsuri's storm technique.
"Storm technique: Wild Hurricane!" A vortex tore through the haze, scattering illusions like dust. For a heartbeat, the fog cleared—enough to reveal their true enemy.
The Smoke Lord herself emerged.
She was tall and slender, gray hair flowing like wisps of vapor, crimson marks painted across her eyelids. Her presence bent the smoke around her, as though it obeyed her will.
"You're the ones who dared to enter my domain?" she asked with mocking pity. "Pathetic children."
Before Kaitara could react, the woman blurred forward. Her strike shattered their defenses, sending all three students tumbling through the dirt.
Hatashi staggered to his feet, blood at the corner of his mouth. Her movements… they're unreadable in this smoke.
Kaitara braced herself, fists glowing. "We won't—"
The Smoke Lord's blade was already at her throat.
"Too slow."
But before she could strike, a gust of wind slammed into her. Hashiro appeared between them, his wrist guards catching her blade.
"You hide behind tricks," he said coldly. "Let me show you real power."
"Interfering, Sensei?" she sneered. "That's against the rules."
Hashiro's eyes narrowed. "Then break them."
He struck with lightning speed. "Dark Technique: Black Palm!"
A sphere of compressed shadow energy burst from his hand, piercing through her chest in an instant. She staggered, blood spilling across the fog.
"You…" she gasped, clutching the wound. Then her body collapsed, dissolving into smoke that drifted away on the wind.
The students stared in shock.
Kaitara's voice trembled. "Sensei… you killed her so easily."
Hashiro wiped the blood from his hand, his tone calm but cutting. "Do you understand now? The academy taught you the basics, but not the truth. They trained you to fight. I will train you to kill."
Hatashi's Devil's Eye glowed faintly, his expression unreadable. "…He's right."
Tiatsuri clenched his fists, torn between anger and acceptance. Kaitara swallowed hard, eyes blazing with conflict.
"Do you all agree to my training?" Hashiro asked, his voice sharp as steel.
One by one, they nodded.
"Good," he said with a thin grin. "But my methods are brutal. If you survive, you'll be true Usuki warriors."
Far away, in a hidden chamber lit by a single lamp, six cloaked figures convened around a circle. The air reeked of smoke and blood.
"The Smoke Lord has fallen," hissed one with a serpent's tone.
"Impossible," another growled.
"The Usuki warriors did this," a deep voice said. "They broke the rules. Now they must suffer."
The leader—the Sun King—rose slowly from his seat, his cloak shifting like flame. "Then we make the people pay. We strike their vassals, burn their homes, and break their spirits. And as for the ones who killed her…"
His voice hardened.
"We will kill them."