A Challenge from the Mori Clan

The morning after the funeral, the city was still. The weight of tradition lingered in the air, but in front of the grand gates of the Shirogiri Manor, a different kind of storm was brewing.

Takeshi Mori stood at the entrance, his arms crossed, his expression sharp with amusement. His presence was an insult in itself—standing before the home of a fallen clan, daring its last heir to step forward. Word had spread fast—Ash Atsuyuki, the last heir of the Shirogiri, had been summoned.

Ash arrived in silence, his body still recovering from the strange ordeal at the shrine. A dull ache pulsed beneath his skin, but something else had settled within him—something he didn't fully understand. The whispers among the gathered onlookers faded as he locked eyes with Takeshi.

"You're slow, Shirogiri," Takeshi said, his smirk widening. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

Ash didn't reply. He simply stepped forward, the loose folds of his mourning robes trailing behind him.

Takeshi's voice carried across the gathered crowd. "The Shirogiri name used to mean something. A clan of warriors, feared and respected. But now? It's a joke. And since you insist on clinging to its corpse, I figured I'd do you a favor—let you die with whatever scrap of honor you have left."

The murmurs grew louder. This wasn't just an insult—it was a declaration. A public challenge, issued in the presence of the clans who had gathered to watch. To refuse would be to acknowledge defeat before the battle had even begun.

But unknown to the crowd, this challenge was more than just a test of pride.

The night before, behind the closed doors of the Mori estate, Takeshi had been summoned before his clan head—his father. The elder Mori's presence was commanding, his every word carrying the weight of generations of ambition.

"Ash Atsuyuki is alone," Lord Mori had said, fingers steepled beneath the dim glow of the chamber's lanterns. "The Shirogiri are nothing more than remnants of a forgotten past. But remnants still have value. Their estate, their lands—what little remains—should belong to the Mori."

Takeshi had nodded, understanding his role before the words had even left his father's lips.

"Challenge him. Beat him. And when you do, make him wager what is left of his family's name. A broken heir has no need for a broken legacy."

Now, in front of the Shirogiri gate, Takeshi's smirk deepened, knowing the trap had already been set.

"Fine," Ash said at last, his voice even. "Name the terms."

Takeshi folded his arms, making a show of considering before glancing toward the gathered witnesses. "First blood. Traditional rules. No killing blows." Then, as if an afterthought, he added, "And let's make this interesting. A wager."

Ash narrowed his eyes. "A wager?"

"Your estate," Takeshi said smoothly. "The last remaining holdings of the Shirogiri. If you're so sure you still have the strength of your ancestors, then prove it. Or walk away now and spare yourself the humiliation."

The gathered clans exchanged glances, the stakes of the duel now far higher than mere honor. Some looked at Ash with pity, others with intrigue.

A tense silence stretched between them before Ash spoke again, his tone unwavering. "And if I defeat you? What will be your wager?"

A ripple of amusement spread through the crowd. Then, laughter. Some chuckled quietly, others outright scoffed at the idea. The notion of Takeshi Mori losing was, to them, laughable.

Takeshi grinned, shaking his head. "You're bold, I'll give you that. But let's not pretend this is an even match."

Ash didn't break eye contact. "If you're so certain of victory, then it shouldn't matter. You ask for my lands, so I will ask the same. I want the Mori's gold or land—equal value."

The crowd's laughter faded into hushed whispers. The Mori clan was wealthy, their resources vast. To wager their own holdings was no small matter.

Takeshi's smirk faltered for the briefest moment. The murmurs among the crowd grew louder. It was no longer just a duel—it was a battle of pride. A Mori could not back down from a challenge.

"Fine," Takeshi said at last, feigning indifference. "If, by some miracle, you win—I will renounce my claim to your lands, and the Mori will compensate you with land or gold of equal value. But we both know that won't happen."

An elder from the Iwakura clan stepped forward, acting as an impartial witness. "Both parties have agreed to the challenge. The duel will commence tomorrow at sundown, before the gates of the Shirogiri Manor."

The gathered onlookers stirred, anticipation rippling through the crowd. Takeshi turned, walking away with the air of a man who had already won.

Ash stood unmoving, his heartbeat steady, his mind clearer than it had been in days.

The trial of the Forgotten Shadow had begun.

And tomorrow, another trial awaited.