Chapter 8: You Better Not Be Dead Tengen!

The battlefield was quiet now. No explosions, no sword clashes, only the smell of scorched earth and the faint cries of birds returning to the ruined forest.

Hinako was kneeling on the barren land, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her forehead bowed low to the ground. The ground beneath her was blackened, cracked, the lingering scar of Zero Point’s wrath.

The posture was humiliating, but she didn’t care. It was the only thing she could do after the Princess. Her Princess had shouted at her.

The Princess, torn silks fluttering in the breeze, stood before her with both hands on her hips, cheeks puffed in indignation, silver eyes burning.

“I can’t believe you!” she snapped, voice trembling from both anger and exhaustion. “You didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself! You just attacked him like, like some thug!”

Hinako winced at the word. Her fingers dug into her lap, shoulders slumping. She kept her head low. “…I thought he was a demon. He felt like one.”

“That’s no excuse!” the Princess shot back, stomping her foot. “Even if he was a demon, he saved me! Saved all of us! He didn’t have to! But you, you nearly erased him!”

Hinako bit her lip. She wanted to argue, to explain how dangerous Tengen’s aura had been, how his grin screamed troublemaker, how her instincts screamed to cut him down. But every excuse she tried to form crumbled in her throat as the Princess glared down at her with pure disappointment.

“I..” Hinako started, then faltered. “He… was reckless. He..”

“No buts!” The Princess jabbed a finger at her, her small frame practically shaking. “You better hope he isn’t dead. Because if he is… then I’ll never forgive you.”

The words hit harder than Zero Point itself.

Hinako’s heart sank into the pit of her stomach. The Princess’s cold tone felt like knives slicing into her chest. She clenched her teeth and cursed silently. Damn you, Tengen… if you really are alive, I’ll strangle you myself for making me look like such a fool in front of her.

She dared a glance up. The Princess’s cheeks were still flushed from anger, her lip trembling slightly, not from rage this time, but sadness. “…I didn’t even get to thank him properly.”

Hinako let out a slow, shaky sigh, her body still bowed. “…Me too. I wanted to ask him more about Tokyo… if he was truly from there.”

The Princess blinked, tilting her head. “Tokyo? What’s that?”

Hinako’s eyes widened a fraction. Idiot! Why did she say that out loud? She quickly masked her expression and shook her head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

The Princess squinted, but her exhaustion kept her from pressing further.

At that moment, the knights returned, armor battered, their faces grim. “We’ve scoured the area again,” the captain said, voice stiff. “Three sweeps. No trace of the boy.”

The Princess’s lips thinned, her gaze sliding slowly toward Hinako. Cold. Sharp. Cutting.

Hinako felt sweat bead down her temple. Her back stiffened, her breath shallow. That look… No, anything but that look!

“I-It’s possible he slipped past us,” Hinako stammered quickly. “Or… or he’s concealing himself. He seemed resourceful. Y-Yes, that must be it.”

The Princess’s silence was heavier than words.

Finally, Hinako bowed again, forehead pressed to the scorched earth. “We should… return to the Capital. Regroup. Then… then we can organize a proper search for him.”

The Princess folded her arms and looked toward the horizon, her young face set with determination. “…Fine. But we will find him again. And when we do” her voice dropped, softer now, “I’ll thank him properly.”

Hinako stayed bowed, fists trembling in her lap. Tengen… You better be alive. Because if you’re not, I’ll never live this down.

The carriage rocked softly along the cobbled road, its wheels creaking in rhythm. The knights had done their best to patch it back together after the monster attack. To any passerby it still looked regal, but Hinako could see the splinters, the dents in the frame, the faint scorch marks along its edges, scars of her own mistake.

Inside, the Princess sat at the window, arms crossed, her silver eyes like frost. She hadn’t spoken a word to Hinako since the battlefield. Every time Hinako dared to glance at her, all she saw was that icy glare.

She’s still angry… Hinako thought with a sigh, lowering her head. I’ve never seen her stay mad this long. Usually, she forgets in a few minutes. But now? Cold shoulder, icy stare, and not a single smile…

Her chest tightened. She wanted to apologize again, beg forgiveness, maybe even kneel in the cramped carriage if it meant thawing that glare. But her mind wasn’t only on the Princess.

It was on him.

Amakusa Tengen… The name replayed over and over in her thoughts. That boy, no older than fourteen by her estimation, had faced her blade without hesitation. Even when he was drenched in blood, knees buckling, regeneration slowed to a crawl under the Domain, he smiled. He joked. He mocked.

Not with desperation, but with defiance.

What kind of person laughs in the face of Revert? she wondered. What kind of person dares flirt with someone trying to kill them?

And that skill… that speed… that sheer control of martial arts. She clenched her fist against her lap. He wasn’t normal. No, far from it. He was… mysterious.

The carriage jolted slightly, and her thoughts broke. She blinked. They were entering Valisthal, the Royal Capital of Solaria.

The white marble walls of the city stretched high, golden banners fluttering proudly in the sunlight. Streets bustled with merchants, nobles in their finery, and children running barefoot between market stalls. Yet none of it warmed Hinako’s heart. Not when the Princess was still glaring daggers into the side of her head.

By the time they reached the Royal Palace, Hinako’s chest was a storm of guilt and curiosity.

The throne room was vast, sunlight spilling through colored glass, casting the floor in hues of ruby and sapphire. At the center sat King Albrecht Virellja, his golden crown gleaming, his stern features softening when he saw his daughter step inside.

“Father!” the Princess cried, rushing to him. She buried her face in his robes, tears threatening as she clung to him. “I’m okay. I’m really okay.”

Relief flickered across the King’s face, and then his gaze shifted to Hinako. His brows arched in surprise. “…Hinako? What are you doing here? I was told you hadn’t been dispatched…”

Hinako’s stomach twisted. Right. I wasn’t dispatched. She had followed in secret, shadowing the Princess as she often did because she couldn’t bear to leave her unguarded.

The King’s voice softened. “Still, I am grateful. I heard my daughter was in grave danger. Thank you for protecting her.”

Before Hinako could answer, the Princess pulled away from him, her expression sour. She whipped her head toward Hinako and jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t thank her! She didn’t protect me at all! She almost killed the person who actually saved me!”

Hinako froze. Her heart lurched as if stabbed.

The Princess puffed her cheeks and stomped a foot. “You peanut brain!”

The word struck like a Divine Smite. Hinako felt her soul leave her body. Peanut brain? She called me… peanut brain? She wanted to curl into a ball and evaporate.

The King blinked, frowning. His gaze slid to Hinako. “…Is this true?”

The silence was unbearable. Finally, Hinako bowed her head low, admitting defeat. “Yes… Your Majesty. It is true.”

She lifted her gaze, her voice steady despite her shame. “The boy’s name was Amakusa Tengen.”

At the sound, the King’s expression shifted. “Amakusa?” His brow furrowed deeply. “…Did you say Amakusa?”

Hinako straightened slightly, surprised. “Yes, sire. Do you… know the name?”

The King leaned back on his throne, thoughtful. “…There was once a family by that name. But perhaps it is my memory playing tricks. The boy you speak of… Where is he now?”

Hinako’s lips pressed thin. “…He escaped. After I mistook him for an enemy and… clashed with him. I failed to capture him.”

The King exhaled heavily, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. “…So, let me understand. A boy named Amakusa Tengen saved my daughter, and you nearly killed him, and now he has vanished?”

Hinako bowed her head lower. “Yes, sire.”

“Good grief…” The King’s voice was tired, but there was a flicker of something else... interest. “Then he must be found. Issue a Royal Decree. Every knight within Solaria is to be on the lookout for this boy.”

One of the knights barked immediately, “Yes, Your Majesty!”

Hinako clenched her fists. She couldn’t let others handle this. She lowered herself into a formal bow. “Please, Your Majesty. Allow me to participate in the search as well.”

The King’s brows lifted. “You? A Holy Knight Captain of the Church? This is below you.”

“I insist,” Hinako said quickly, voice firm. She raised her eyes to meet his, unwavering. “It is… important that I find him.”

The King studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Very well. If that is what you wish, I doubt I could stop you even if I tried.”

Hinako lowered her head in gratitude. “…Thank you, sire.”

With that, she turned sharply on her heel and exited the throne room.

But as the doors closed behind her, she pressed a hand over her chest, her heart pounding. Amakusa Tengen… I will find you.

It had been only a day since their return when Hinako was summoned again to the throne room. She entered with her usual composure, though her heart was still heavy from the Princess’s icy silence.

King Albrecht sat on his throne, fingers drumming against the gilded armrest. His gaze shifted to her as she kneeled before him.

“There has been a sighting,” he said without preamble. “A boy matching Amakusa Tengen’s description was seen near the outer woods of the eastern merchant route.”

Hinako’s heart jumped. Already?

She bowed her head low. “Then allow me to go.”

The King nodded. “You may take knights with you, though not too many. This must be done swiftly.”

Before Hinako could respond, a shrill voice cut through the hall.

“You better not hurt my Tengen!”

Hinako stiffened. Her eyes flicked toward the Princess, who stood by her father’s side, fists balled, cheeks puffed out in indignation.

Her Tengen? Hinako’s temple twitched. Her… Tengen?

For a moment, the world dimmed around her. Her hands clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms as a cold thought slid through her mind: No. Now I’ll kill him for sure. Without mistake this time.

She bowed again before the King, her voice level despite the murderous thought screaming in her skull. “I’ll depart immediately.”

By dusk, preparations were complete. Hinako chose only four knights to accompany her, just enough to move quickly, not enough to slow her down. Their faces were tense, but their trust in her was unshaken.

For three days they combed the eastern merchant routes, following faint trails and half-buried footprints. They found nothing but fragments: broken twigs, patches of disturbed earth, faint traces of mana like smoke in the wind.

On the second day, a merchant stopped them on the road. He scratched his beard and squinted. “Strangest thing I ever heard. Few nights ago, thought I heard a kid singin’ in some foreign tongue. Kept sayin’… what was it again? Ah, yeah ‘Bankai.’ Over and over. I think he was summonin’ a demon.”

Hinako’s lips parted, then snapped shut.

Bankai.

Her brain flooded with an old memory, sitting cross-legged in front of a television back in Tokyo, wide-eyed as anime characters screamed the same word. A faint heat spread across her cheeks. Bleach. He was quoting Bleach.

She rubbed her temple and exhaled slowly. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

The knights exchanged uneasy glances, muttering to one another as they adjusted their armor.

“Slippery one, isn’t he,” one of them muttered, kneeling by a fresh track in the dirt. He ran his gloved hand over it. “He was here. Not more than a day ago.”

Hinako crouched beside the mark, staring at it for a long while. She could almost see him there, lounging against a tree, his ridiculous grin plastered on his face, mocking her.

You slipped past us on purpose, didn’t you? she thought, her jaw tightening. That grin… you knew we were coming. You let us chase your shadow.

By the fourth evening, the King’s order arrived through a messenger hawk: return to Valisthal. The trail was cold, and the longer they lingered, the more pointless it became.

Not a word was spoken as they turned their horses back toward the Capital. The silence among the knights was heavy, the weight of failure pressing on them all.

But Hinako’s silence was heavier.

She sat tall on her saddle, face calm, but inside she was seething. Amakusa Tengen… slippery, arrogant, infuriating boy. Next time, you won’t slip away. Next time, I’ll drag you back by force, no matter how many Bankai you scream.

And in the back of her mind, another dread stirred.

If the Princess is still angry when we return… I may not survive her wrath.