The three of us remained quiet. Only the huffing sound of Michikatsu's rough breath echoed through the dark forest. Eventually, he managed to steady himself and stood upright, his attention locked on Yoriichi.
Yoriichi finally opened his eyes, scanning his surroundings. He noticed only the two of us—his brother's commanders were nowhere in sight.
"You took your time," he said to me, then turned to his brother and said nothing.
Immediately, I sensed a shift in the air pressure. Something was building between the two of them. Maybe it was the fact that Yoriichi had preached about the existence of demons and the threat they posed—only to be ignored by everyone, including his own brother.
But I knew something had changed in Michikatsu. Maybe this moment was his turning point. Maybe it was supposed to happen long ago, but my presence altered the timing.
"We should get going. We don't have much time to spare," Michikatsu said, leaping forward. He winced—he'd taken a hit to his right foot.
Yoriichi noticed immediately and rushed to his side. "Let me help you." He supported Michikatsu by the right side, and we continued walking.
As we moved deeper into the forest, I finally found the moment to gather my thoughts. There were questions that needed answers.
Who the hell killed the demon's real body?
Was I just fighting clones this whole time?
And how the fuck did we even get separated?
"Young slayer, you look troubled," Michikatsu said, glancing back at me. "I apologize for dragging you into this. But you proved your worth by surviving. I'll make it up to you when we return—"
"About that, I need some real answers from you."
"What is it? Speak."
"Okay... hmm... what the hell just happened? Like—I fought some boys with flutes, controlling these ghost-looking bastards. Was I the only one who dealt with that shit?"
"Shit?" he spoke, confused.
"You got any idea who that boy with the flute was?"
"Oh, the young demon…" He paused and faced forward. Even Michikatsu seemed curious now.
"He was a Han Dynasty slave centuries ago. Before that, he worked in the royal palace as an instrumentalist. But after the war broke out with the Han Kingdom, he was enslaved again... and died that way. That's all I know about him."
That was brief. But I was right about one thing—he was connected to royalty.
"You know anything about his powers, then? Why we got separated?"
Yoriichi looked up at the clear night sky. "I think it's his Blood Demon Art, as you said. And it relates to his flute. I know he's a demon with ten bodies. Kill them all, and he's gone for good." He turned to Michikatsu. "What about your commanders, elder brother?"
"They're all dead. I didn't see what killed them they were just... gone. Cut to pieces."
Just like that man who lured us into the demon lair, beheaded without anyone seeing what did it.
A demon with ten bodies, huh?
Makes you wonder how many real ones we actually killed.
***
After that little expedition to find the bodies of the other Aira village soldiers including those from the Tsugikuni clan and nearby clans, we came up empty. No bodies. But we did face another demon, one who used his flute in ways no man could understand.
We returned, but fewer in number. It left the samurai wondering what we had faced. Strangely, the ones we left behind were untouched. Same number, same positions, some of them even sleeping like nothing happened.
We camped in the same spot. Like before, Yoriichi and I were given a separate tent to rest for the night. Tomorrow would be the deciding moment.
Inside the tent, the Tsugikuni brothers Yoriichi and Michikatsu—sat cross-legged, their expressions calm, unreadable.
Michikatsu lifted a jar of wine and poured into two cups at either end of the table. Yoriichi took his cup with both hands, shifted to the side, and sipped. The sharp, sour taste hit his mouth and ran down his throat. He sighed softly, watching Michikatsu gulp down his drink like it was sweet tea.
After a moment, Yoriichi spoke in a low, deep tone.
"It was nice seeing you, brother. I enjoyed… fairly enjoyed my stay at your camp. But I have to continue my journey."
"I'm glad you did enjoy… fairly enjoy your stay," Michikatsu said. "I wish you safe travels."
The two avoided eye contact. The silence that followed was thick.
"I should take my leave now," Yoriichi said, rising.
"Wait," Michikatsu said.
Yoriichi paused, his ears alert. He wondered was he finally going to talk about it?
"About our conversation last night… I've been thinking about what you said. I think I'll stop it. The war."
Yoriichi turned his head slowly. A faint smile touched his lips. His usually somber eyes lit up for a brief moment.
"Really?"
"Yes. At least, on my side. I'll stop the march into the Himori Clan. I'll send a letter to their general requesting peace talks. But the problem is… will the other clan chiefs agree?"
"They will," Yoriichi said firmly. "That's why I came to you first. You're the heart of the Tsugikuni clan—of Aira village itself. The strongest and wisest general they've produced. They'll listen to you."
Michikatsu didn't know how to take that. It almost felt like mockery. But he chose to accept it. Because today's battle had shown him something:
There's a Japanese saying that goes: The strength of a warrior is measured by the strength of their enemies. If he truly wanted to grow stronger, he had to change the battlefield.
***
Status!
I sat cross-legged in my tent.
For the first time in a while, I had some peace and used it to check my progress—especially after defeating that flute boy.
NAME: Tatsuya Uzui
AGE: 16
CLASS: UNSELECTED
LEVEL: 75
ATTRIBUTES
STR: 80
STA: 125
SPE: 94
AGI: 90
CLASS ATTRIBUTES
(SELECT CLASS TYPE)
SKILLS
Neural Shell (MAX)
Pain Resistance (Lv. 5)
CLASS SKILLS
(SELECT CLASS TYPE)
ITEMS
Skill Boost (999)
"Sweet."
I gained six levels from that last fight. That was a first. Must've been because the demons this time were stronger than the ones I fought in the mountains.
Seven days. That's how long I've been grinding—training, leveling, and checking my windows.
Only thing left now was to choose a job class… but honestly, what's the point? None of them relate to swordsmanship or demon slaying. Farming? Carpentry? The hell am I supposed to do with that?
Kill Muzan with carrot spears? Slice an onion and hope his eyes burn?
"What a fucking mess…"
Then there's this damn Neural Shell skill. Sure, it's kept me safe from illusion attacks and infant trauma, but apparently, it can also launch illusions.
It defends, counters, and attacks—each with its own conditions.
Defense, It works against weak or average illusions. Makes sense.
Counter, The illusion must be weak—very weak. Then I can trap the caster in their own illusion.
Attack, I can trap anyone in an illusion… but it needs to be triggered by physical touch
Even after maxing the skill, I've touched countless people and still couldn't activate it.
"I couldn't even trap a five-year-old kid."
I tapped the skill icon, checked its info.
//Upon physical contact, host is capable of trapping the selected target in an unending dream of choice.//
"Yeah, right. I might as well forget this skill… and the job class too. All I need are better stats to defeat Muzan"
I laid back on my futon.
***
Finally, the time came. Everyone was getting ready to move out.
Michikatsu's men packed everything—tents, supplies, gear. Horses saddled, troops ready.
Michikatsu, Yoriichi, and I stood together one last time.
"So where to next, brother? You can still come back to the village. Father would welcome you with open arms. Probably throw a feast," Michikatsu said.
Yoriichi smirked faintly. "Thoughtful of you, elder brother, but I'll reject the offer. I'm on a mission. And when it's done, humanity might finally have the upper hand in this war against the creatures that lurk in the dark."
His words cast a gloomy silence for a moment. Then he turned to me.
"What about you, boy—?"
"Boy?!"
I'm fucking older than you… in a way.
"So you don't like being called boy. How about young man?"
"I'm heading south. Shogi village."
"Ohh, that's some distance from the Aira border," Michikatsu said. "You can come with us if you want."
"Thanks, but I'll pass."
I can't stand any of you Tsugikunis, honestly.
"Oh well, I see we each have our own path. Until we meet again, brother." Mitchikatsu turned to leave.
"Safe travels, elder brother," Yoriichi said, then turned to me. "And you too, young man."
"Thanks—wait, one more thing. You said you knew Ms. Ayuma, right?"
"Ah yes. She mentored me at one point. It was tragic when news spread that she was gone. We lost A great warrior."
Wow. She mentored Yoriichi too. That's insane.
"Do you know how she died? I'd like to know."
"Oh, even you…" he sighed "It wasn't far from here. She faced a powerful demon—one of the worst. Used a house as its hunting ground. Killed countless of our brothers and—"
"Wait, did you just say a house? Like, a small house?"
I'd heard this before. Seven years ago the day I left Ms. Ayuma's mansion—Mui returned with a report saying that a demon was using a house as its lair…
"You know what, thank you for your time, sir."
I bowed and left.
That was all the information I needed to hear. Now I know the identity of the bastard that killed my teacher.