Chapter 29: Determination Of A Protagonist

Rin sat calmly on one of the rooftops, watching the scene below with quiet amusement. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure dashing across the palace grounds, pursued by eight shadowy figures. He smiled faintly, his expression unreadable.

"So, it's already started," Rin murmured to himself.

With a deliberate ease, he rose to his feet, brushing off imaginary dust from his uniform. The wind tugged at his hair as he turned toward the stairs leading down to Miharu's room. Each step he took was measured, purposeful, as though he were walking into a performance where every movement was choreographed.

As he descended, Rin began to chant softly, his voice low and filled with an almost musical cadence. The words carried a weight, resonating with an unseen power. It was a spell—a manifestation magic that only a handful could master.

This particular spell was an intricate one, a technique Rin had once shared with Chinen Suzuki, the Azure Princess. However, the version he now invoked was a level beyond anything he had ever taught her—a manifestation tailored to warriors of the highest caliber.

The uniform of the White Flower Palace that Rin wore began to shift, its fabric glowing faintly as it morphed. The process was seamless, like silk being woven by an invisible hand.

The black pants of his new attire bore subtle patterns of the White Flower Palace, elegant yet understated. His upper body was clad in a pristine, long-sleeved white shirt adorned with intricate silver embroidery that mirrored the palace's emblem. Over this, a light blue coat draped gracefully, its flowing fabric accentuating his movements. The coat, adorned with faint floral patterns, bore the look of an assassin's cloak yet retained the refined elegance of a samurai's garb.

The transformation was complete as Rin reached the final step. His new attire not only reflected his ties to the White Flower Palace but also echoed the combat uniform he had worn in his first life—a reminder of the trials and triumphs that had shaped him.

Standing at the door to Miharu's room, Rin placed a hand on the frame. His calm demeanor was a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding outside. He knew exactly what was happening and, more importantly, what needed to be done.

Rin opened the door with a calm yet commanding presence, his eyes immediately locking onto the two attackers engaging Harumi. Without hesitation, he raised a hand, his fingers tracing a sharp arc through the air.

"Shadow Bind," he uttered in a low voice, his tone filled with authority.

Tendrils of darkness erupted from the floor, coiling around the two attackers like living chains. They froze mid-movement, their weapons clattering to the ground as the shadows immobilized them completely. With a sharp snap of his fingers, Rin sent them into unconsciousness, their bodies slumping lifelessly to the floor, bound by the magic.

Harumi lowered her guard, a pout forming on her lips. "I was just starting to have fun," she said, crossing her arms in mock irritation.

Rin glanced at her, his expression softening with a faint smile. "Your job was to protect Miharu, not indulge in battle. You've done well, Harumi."

She sighed, relenting. "I told Miharu to run. Hopefully, she's far enough away by now."

Rin nodded knowingly, his gaze shifting toward the window. "I already know where she's headed."

Turning back to Harumi, he placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice firm yet reassuring. "Harumi, do you trust me?"

Without hesitation, she met his eyes. "Always."

"Good. Keep quiet about this attack. Don't let anyone outside this room know what happened," Rin instructed. He then pulled out a length of enchanted rope, its threads glowing faintly with runes. Handing it to Harumi, he added, "Use this to tie them up. They won't be able to use magic, and it's impossible to cut. Treat them with care—they'll need to answer some questions later."

Harumi nodded, understanding the weight of his words.

With a final glance at her, Rin turned toward the window, his coat fluttering as he moved with fluid grace. Without another word, he leaped out, landing silently on the rooftop. His sharp eyes traced Miharu's path, and with a deep breath, he sprinted in her direction.

Miharu dashed nimbly across the branches of the dense forest, her movements as fluid and precise as a dancer's. The wind magic she had infused into her body made her light and swift, every step propelling her forward like a fleeting shadow. Her breath was steady, her focus unwavering, as she relied on the countless hours of training she had endured under Rin's guidance.

The eight assassins pursuing her were relentless, their coordinated movements a testament to their skill. Yet, Miharu's sharp instincts and newfound agility allowed her to stay one step ahead. She recalled the lessons Rin had drilled into her—how to predict the enemy's formations, how to read the faintest shifts in their movements, and most importantly, how to counter them.

When one assassin lunged from the front, Miharu twisted her body mid-air, narrowly evading the grasping hands that sought to ensnare her. She landed on a branch with practiced grace, the impact barely disturbing the leaves. Without pausing, she launched herself forward, spinning to avoid another ambush from the side.

Her movements were almost instinctive now, her body reacting faster than her thoughts. Each dodge, leap, and turn was a testament to her training. She could almost hear Rin's calm voice guiding her, the memory of his instructions etched into her mind:

"Don't just run blindly. Read the flow of the pursuit. Let them show their hand first, and then adapt. Control the pace, and you control the fight."

The assassins grew increasingly frustrated, their once-coordinated maneuvers starting to falter. Miharu smirked to herself, a flicker of confidence blooming amidst the adrenaline. She was no longer the helpless girl she once was. She was learning, growing, and adapting.

One assassin attempted a high-speed dash to cut her off, but Miharu anticipated the move. She feigned a step to the left, forcing the attacker to commit, and then darted sharply to the right, leaving her pursuer grasping at air.

Her heart raced as she propelled herself toward the edge of the forest. The towering trees became her allies, providing cover and elevation as she moved like the wind. For a moment, despite the danger, Miharu felt a sense of pride.

Too much time had passed...

Miharu's breath came in ragged gasps as she leaned against the thick trunk of the tree, trying to steady herself. Her body was aching from the relentless sprinting and dodging, and her mana reserves were running dangerously low. She couldn't afford to stop, but every passing second felt heavier. Her clothes, torn and tattered from the constant movement, hung on her like a second skin, each rip a reminder of the battle she was fighting—not just against the Ravens, but against her own limits.

She crouched low, hidden behind the tree, hoping to regain a sliver of energy. Her heart pounded in her chest as she kept her eyes fixed on the eight remaining pursuers. They were methodical, moving in formation as they searched the area. Miharu could feel their eyes combing through the forest, so close she could almost hear their breaths.

But just as she thought she might have a chance to slip away once more, a large hand shot out from behind her. Before she could react, the grip of the bulky man tightened around her waist, lifting her off the ground. Panic surged through her as she tried to struggle, but the man's strength was overpowering. Her body was like a ragdoll in his grasp, and no matter how she fought, it was useless.

His deep voice came as a low growl, filled with frustration. "Seriously, you are quite slippery. You made us waste energy chasing you."

She tried to cry out, to call for help, but the cloth shoved into her mouth stifled her every word. Her hands were bound tightly, and she couldn't even attempt to use her magic. Fear bubbled in her chest, but she held onto the sliver of hope that somehow, someone would come for her—Rin, Harumi, anyone.

The bulky man threw her roughly to the ground in front of the other Ravens, the cold earth scraping against her skin. The impact left her dazed for a moment, her vision swimming as she struggled to regain control. Her face stung from the slap, the force of it sending a sharp jolt of pain through her. She tried to push herself up, but the tight bindings and the cloth muffling her made it impossible.

The Ravens, one by one, bowed before the man who had captured her. They were all experienced, each of them silent and calculating as they stood in formation. Miharu tried to meet their eyes, but they avoided her gaze as if she were already defeated.

"Get her on her knees," the bulky man ordered, his voice laced with annoyance. Two of the Ravens grabbed her arms, forcing her into a kneeling position.

Miharu's pulse quickened as she struggled against the restraints, her mind racing for a way out. She couldn't let herself be captured, not now, not when she was so close to proving herself.

"Don't waste your energy," the bulky man sneered, clearly enjoying her struggle. "You'll only make it worse for yourself."

Miharu, her body trembling from the fear and the strain, finally managed to lift her head to meet the bulky man's gaze. Through the gag in her mouth, her voice was muffled, but she still managed to force out a question, her eyes burning with defiance.

"Why?" Her eyes bore into him, pleading for some sort of answer. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The bulky man stared down at her, his expression indifferent, as though this were just another job to him. He crouched down to her level, his voice low but heavy with frustration.

"It's not personal," he said with a shrug, the words coming out like a disinterested explanation. "You're just a pawn in a bigger game. This was never about you."

He waved a hand dismissively as if her life meant nothing in the grand scheme. "It's all about power. The position of Black Princess Consort is a coveted one, and the families with influence are fighting to control who takes that spot. Your name, Urakawa Miharu, was unfortunate enough to be a threat to their plans. You just got caught up in their power struggle."

Miharu felt the weight of his words crash into her, and she resisted the urge to collapse under the burden of it all. The realization that she had been nothing more than a pawn in someone else's game stung deeply. She had trained, fought, and struggled to earn a place, but it seemed all along that the strings were being pulled by others, by forces beyond her control.

"Who sent you?" she managed to ask, her voice shaky but still demanding answers. "Who's behind this?"

The bulky man didn't seem to have any concern for her curiosity. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice became even colder. "I don't know. And frankly, I don't care. As long as we get paid, we do the job. That's how it works. We don't ask questions. You'll never know the name of the person who wanted you out of the contest."

He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Somewhere out there, someone with more power than you or me wants to see the other two candidates succeed. And you? You just happened to be in the way."

Miharu's heart sank at the thought. She had become a casualty in a larger war—nothing more than a piece to be moved or sacrificed to secure a greater advantage. The unfairness of it all weighed heavily on her, but as the truth sank in, a new fire began to stir within her.

Miharu's thoughts began to swirl, the weight of her circumstances pressing against her chest. She had spent so much time fighting against becoming the Black Princess, feeling it was a responsibility she wasn't ready for, that she hadn't seen the bigger picture. The families that would fight for control over the position were ruthless, willing to eliminate anyone who stood in their way. They would do anything to secure their grip on power—and Miharu wasn't about to let them succeed.

The realization hit her like a wave. She had been so focused on her own fear, her own doubts, that she hadn't seen the true threat—those who would exploit power to control the empire. And now, as she lay there, bound and gagged, she felt the fire of determination reignite within her. Rin, Harumi, and the White Elder had believed in her, seen something in her that could change the course of the future. They had supported her because they knew what she could be, even when she didn't know it herself.

"I'm an idiot," she thought, the words lingering in her mind like a bitter truth. "Rin, Harumi, and the White Elder— they've supported me knowing I was good for the position. They saw the potential in me, even when I didn't. And here I am, running from what I'm meant to face."

Her heart burned with new purpose as she remembered Rin's words, his unshaken belief in her. Despite everything, he had wanted her to show the empire her talents, to stand strong. Miharu had thought it was because of some grand destiny, but now she realized: it was because she had the strength to protect the empire from the very darkness that had just tried to swallow her.

"I don't want those evil people to win," Miharu whispered to herself, her voice muffled but resolute. The clarity of her own thoughts made her feel alive again, despite the situation she was in.

The families and their sinister plots—they would not be the ones to define her future. Miharu was going to fight for herself, for her friends, and for the empire she now saw with a new lens. It wasn't just about the Black Princess position—it was about standing up against the corruption that had taken root.

In that moment, Miharu's resolve crystallized. She would no longer be a pawn in someone else's game. She would fight. She would rise. And she would prove that she was more than what others thought of her.

"I won't let them win," she vowed quietly, feeling the weight of her decision lift from her shoulders. She wasn't going to run anymore. She was going to take control of her fate.

Miharu's heart skipped a beat as she heard the sound of slow, deliberate clapping echoing through the forest. Her eyes shot towards the source, and she felt a strange mixture of hope and confusion as a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. The clapping stopped, and the man who had been walking toward her stopped a few paces away.

The moment Miharu saw him, recognition washed over her like a tidal wave. It was Rin. But not the Rin she had known moments before. He was dressed in a new combat uniform, the intricate patterns of the White Flower Palace now blended with the dark elegance of his attire. His demeanor was calm but serious, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that had surrounded her moments before.

His eyes met hers, and he gave her a smile—not one of mockery, but one filled with quiet assurance. There was a coldness to it, like he had already known how things were going to unfold, and this was simply part of the plan. The feeling of chill in the air only deepened.

"You… came," Miharu whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with relief. For a brief moment, she had doubted whether she would ever see him again. But here he was, as composed and calculated as ever.