Chapter Two

Part One

"It's bad. Grand Patron Izanagi has been gravely injured in battle. His forces are depleted, and he barely escaped capture. He sends word to you—evacuate his family immediately. And Kichiro's journey to the capital must begin without delay. He fears the Izuo clan may have uncovered the boy's secret and are already on their way."

This message could have changed everything—if it had reached Commander Kao three days ago. But the messenger had fallen to a poisoned arrow, ambushed by slave traders as he rode through the shadowed forests.

Now, Kao and his men were barely holding their ground against the Izuo clan's surprise attack. Yet it wasn't strength or luck that had salvaged the situation. It was Kao's paranoia—a constant, gnawing instinct to prepare for the worst. It had saved them—not to win this battle, but to fulfill his master's last request.

Hours before the ambush, Kao had activated Plan B, a contingency he had devised in secret. He sent Grand Patron Izanagi's family away under the protection of three of his best swordsmen. And with them went the boy—Kichiro.

Ah, Kichiro. The blind boy who had become the crux of everything. The reason Izanagi turned his back on the emperor and the capital. The boy who could either bring peace to the warring clans or ignite a bloodbath that would stain Japan's history forever.

By now, Icha and Kichiro would have crossed the bridge—a secret passage known only to royal families, used to elude enemy forces for centuries. It was foolproof.

Or so Kao thought.

"No," he muttered, shaking his head to banish the creeping doubt. "The bridge is safe. It has to be."

But this was no ordinary scenario. Betrayal had already begun to weave its threads.

Icha, entrusted with delivering the blind prince to safety, had other plans.

"Wait here," Icha said with a mocking smile, leading Kichiro to the edge of the cave's exit. His fingers grazed the bag of silver coins hidden beneath his cloak. "I'll scout ahead and make sure the road is safe."

His true destination was the rendezvous point with the Izuo clan's forces. The price for the boy's capture had been generous, and Icha had no intention of refusing such wealth.

... Elsewhere...

"Where am I?"

Asakai groaned, his voice hoarse, as he struggled to sit up. Pain ripped through his abdomen, forcing him to collapse back onto the bed.

The room was dim, with thin rays of morning sunlight filtering through the cracks in the wooden shutters.

"You're awake. That's a relief," a soft voice spoke from the doorway.

Asakai turned his head. A young woman entered, carrying a tray of food.

"Where..." He winced, his hands instinctively pressing against the bandages wrapped tightly around his stomach. "Where is he? The swordsman?"

"The swordsman?" she repeated, setting the tray down beside him. "Do you mean the man who brought you here? He's the reason you're still alive. The people who found you said someone paid them to carry you off the road and into this house. If not for him, you wouldn't have survived the night."

Asakai tried to sit up again, his teeth gritting against the pain. He couldn't shake the image of Genkei—the swordsman standing calm and unwavering in the face of that monstrous demon.

"How long?"

"How long have you been here?" the woman asked.

"Yes. How long?"

"Two days," she replied, her voice tinged with concern. "You were unconscious for two days. Frankly, I'm amazed you're still alive. That wound... it looked like something a demon would inflict."

Asakai stiffened. "Why don't you think so?"

The woman's expression darkened. She pulled the collar of her blouse aside, revealing a scar over her chest. "When I was a child, a demon killed my family. My parents, my sisters—all slaughtered because someone made a pact with it over a piece of farmland. It stabbed me too, but I survived because... well, my heart wasn't where it should've been."

She smiled faintly, a bitter edge to her voice. "I guess I should be thankful for that, don't you think?"

Asakai studied her scar, his thoughts churning.

"So, you think the demon spared me?"

"If it was truly a demon," she said firmly, "you wouldn't be alive and if you survived a demon attack then maybe you are a demon yourself, demons don't play with there food. "

She left him to his thoughts, the door closing softly behind her.

Asakai stared at the bandages wrapping his torso. He had been so close to death—closer than ever before. In that moment, he had seen his wife and son, their voices calling to him from the beyond. But fear had held him back. He didn't want to leave, not yet.

The demon… its power, its ferocity—it was unlike anything he had faced before. And yet, Genkei had stood before it, undeterred. That swordsman.

Asakai clenched his fists. He would heal. He would find him again. And when he did, there would be a reckoning.