EPISODE 46: Battle Before Heading to Nihondu

The night grew deeper in the middle of the dense black bamboo forest. Inside his dark tent, Zenoda, who had been sitting cross-legged, slowly opened his eyes. His superhuman hearing had caught a rustling sound that was entirely unnatural, mixed with a very thick killing intent.

Zenoda didn't move right away. He stayed still where he was, focusing his eyes to observe the surroundings through the gap in the tent cloth, using the thin moonlight illuminating their camp. Within seconds, he had precisely mapped the position and number of their enemies. There were about twenty mercenary assassins surrounding them.

(Time to move,) Zenoda thought.

WHOOSH!

Like a shadow breaking free from the darkness, Zenoda immediately shot out of his tent, charging toward the enemy line. But unexpectedly, from another tent, two silhouettes leaped out at the same time. It was Faizura and Ziryal! Their intelligence and Assassin instincts had apparently been sharp enough to notice the ambush.

Seeing his two students charge forward without needing a signal, Zenoda smiled slightly, satisfied. He felt greatly helped; at least he didn't have to bother handling everything alone.

"Don't let a single one of them escape!" Zenoda ordered curtly.

"Understood!" Ziryal and Faizura answered in unison.

Close-quarters combat erupted beneath the shadows of the bamboo. Zenoda quickly drew his black Iato (short sword). He struck down the enemies before him with lightning-fast draw-strikes. Every slash was carefully measured—only to cripple muscles and nerves, not to kill.

On his right, Faizura, who had activated Gale Body, moved like a storm of blades. Aided by her protective whirlwind, she wounded the assassins with her dagger until they collapsed helplessly. Meanwhile on the left, Ziryal, a specialist killer in the dark, moved without mercy. With cruel, deadly precision, Ziryal's twin daggers slit the throats of half the enemies near him, soaking the ground with fresh blood.

In under two minutes, the three of them had slaughtered and incapacitated half of the total enemy force. Ten assassins were dead or down.

Now, ten masked assassins remained. Realizing their target was no easy prey, the intruders' morale shattered. In a panic beneath the moonlight, the ten of them spontaneously split into two groups. Five decided to stay and fight Zenoda, Faizura, and Ziryal to buy time, while the remaining five turned and fled deeper into the bamboo forest!

Seeing his enemies trying to flee, Zenoda clicked his tongue in annoyance. Feeling there was no other choice to save time, Zenoda spun the hilt of his Iato.

"Ziryal! Faizura! Chase down the five who fled! I'll handle these ones!"

Once his two students shot off into the forest, Zenoda refocused on the five in front of him. Not using the blade's edge, Zenoda darted forward and brutally struck their vital nerve points with the hilt of his sword.

Thud! Thud! Crack!

It took Zenoda only three seconds to beat all five assassins unconscious, their eyes rolling white.

Meanwhile, deep in the bamboo forest, Ziryal and Faizura continued chasing the five fleeing assassins. But just as they managed to close the distance and were about to throw their capture daggers... an unexpected surprise greeted the assassins.

BLAAAM!

A giant ice pillar suddenly erupted from the ground, blocking the five assassins' escape route.

"Where do you think you're running to, huh?!"

An arrogant yet supremely confident voice rang out. From behind the ice pillar, Princess Elara stepped forward, her crystal magic staff glowing. Beside her, the three comical nobles (Cedric, Valerius, Agru) and the other members of the God Wings Party (Karham, Annesia, Linaya) had already formed an absolute barricade, blocking the five men's escape route.

It turned out the commotion from the start of the ambush had woken up the rest of the group!

Feeling surrounded from the front by an elite mage and from behind by two shadow assassins (Faizura and Ziryal), the five intruders lost all hope. Realizing there was no opening to fight back, they all dropped their weapons and surrendered without much resistance.

Once the situation was under control, Karham and Agru swiftly bound the remaining ten survivors (the five knocked unconscious by Zenoda, and the five who surrendered) into a single line in the middle of the camp.

Zenoda stood before them, staring coldly from behind his sword, which gleamed, reflecting the moonlight. He pressed the tip of his sword's sheath to the throat of one of the assassins acting as the squad captain.

"Tell me," Zenoda interrogated, his voice heavy and threatening. "What's your reason for doing this? Who sent you here?"

The masked man looked up, his eyes radiating a mad desperation.

CRACK!

Suddenly, Zenoda heard a very unnatural cracking sound. It came from a hard bite inside the assassin captain's mouth. He had just bitten down on a secret pill planted in his teeth!

The next second, something terrifying happened. The blood vessels all over the man's body suddenly bulged and turned a deep purple. His body swelled rapidly like a meat balloon being forcibly pumped by extremely unstable Miasma energy.

Zenoda's deadly instincts screamed.

"DANGER! TAKE COVER!!!!" Zenoda shouted, splitting the night, leaping backward on reflex.

Hearing the emergency shout from their teacher, Linaya, standing at the back, didn't think twice. She immediately slammed her staff into the ground.

"Holy Shield Maximum!"

Linaya quickly activated a layered holy magic barrier to protect the whole group. At the same moment, Karham stepped forward, planting his giant shield into the ground and using all his protective energy to form a barricade of steel and stone.

BOOOOOOOOM!

The mercenary's body exploded violently! An extremely thick, toxic, destructive purple energy swept across the campsite. The explosion was so powerful that the four comrades tied together with him were also destroyed, blown into ash on the spot.

The purple shockwave slammed hard into Linaya's magic shield and Karham's physical barricade. Craaack! Linaya's shield cracked badly, but it managed to hold back the deadly explosion enough to keep Lord Vivaldi and Elara from being hurt.

Foul-smelling purple smoke billowed, covering the night sky. As the smoke began to thin, Zenoda saw a sight that made his blood boil.

Seeing their comrades reduced to ash, the five remaining assassins in the back line showed no fear. Instead, they did the exact same thing: their mouths moved in unison, intending to bite down on the suicide pills in their teeth to trigger a chain of explosions that would flatten the entire bamboo forest!

Seeing all five bodies beginning to glow purple simultaneously, Zenoda felt his group's position was in absolute mortal danger. Linaya's magic wouldn't hold against five Miasma explosions at once.

Zenoda gritted his teeth. He clutched his own chest.

(Damn it! Do I have to forcibly release my White Calm mode now to neutralize all this?!) Zenoda panicked inwardly. If he unleashed it, he risked destroying half the bamboo forest himself.

But before Zenoda could break his divine seal, a shadow suddenly cut across the night sky from above the bamboo trees.

WHOOOOOSH!

A mysterious samurai leaped high from atop a giant bamboo grove. The wind from the leap tore off his woven bamboo straw hat (Jingasa) and sent it flying, revealing the face of a handsome grown man with long black hair tied up high (a casual Chonmage).

The samurai dove sharply toward the five swelling assassins. With a draw-strike so beautiful and fast it resembled a dance of water, the man cut down all five of them!

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Five flashes of silver blade light lit up the air.

Remarkably, the man didn't kill any of them at all. The tip of his blunted blade precisely sliced through the air and struck with pinpoint accuracy at the pressure points (Tenketsu) on the five assassins' bodies.

Thud! Thud!

Instantly, the swelling reaction in all five bodies stopped dead. The flow of purple energy in their bodies died out, and all five collapsed unconscious to the ground. The samurai had just forcibly severed their magic circulation and blood flow before the pill could trigger a heart explosion!

Zenoda, watching that Grandmaster-level swordsmanship, held his breath. He murmured to himself.

(Hmm... This man. His movements were so smooth and without hesitation. It's as if he already knew exactly what would happen with that suicide pill. And beyond that... he knows the location of the critical detonation points on the human body with such precision. Impressive.)

The samurai landed gracefully, sheathing his sword with a single click of his palm's turn. He picked his bamboo hat up off the ground, then brushed the dust off his worn Hakama robe.

The man then turned, looking at the still-shocked Koreson group behind Karham's cracked barricade.

"Well, well," the mysterious samurai greeted with a friendly smile and a deep but casual voice. "Quite a noisy night for camping. What exactly are you folks doing out here?"

Seeing that the man was no enemy and had in fact just saved their lives, Lord Vivaldi, standing behind Karham and Elara, stepped forward immediately. As a merchant skilled at reading situations and seeking alliances, Vivaldi approached the samurai and spoke gently, with great respect.

"Ahem... good evening, Mister Samurai," Vivaldi greeted, bowing his head slightly. "We're deeply grateful for your very timely help just now. We're a group of travelers resting for the night. Tomorrow morning, we plan to continue our journey to the capital of the Southern Continent, Nihondu."

"The capital of Nihondu?" the samurai repeated, one eyebrow raised, then he laughed lightly. "Hahaha! Oh, what a coincidence! Our destinations are the same. I just finished some 'business' at the border myself, and now I intend to head home to my place in the Nihondu district."

Hearing they were headed the same direction, Vivaldi's business instincts kicked in. Having a top-tier local swordsman as a guide was a jackpot.

"In that case..." Vivaldi offered with his merchant's smile, "how about you join us and camp with us tonight? And tomorrow, we can set off for Nihondu together."

The samurai stroked his chin, seeming to weigh it over, then smiled broadly. "Hmm, that's a tempting offer. Of course, I'd be delighted to tag along, if allowed."

As it happened, Vivaldi always rented and kept one spare tent in his caravan for emergencies. Karham and Agru quickly helped set it up for the samurai. Once things had settled down, the assassins' bodies were disposed of, and the five prisoners were bound with anti-magic spells. Everyone then returned to their tents and slept soundly until dawn.

The Next Morning...

The cool morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the bamboo leaves. The Koreson group and their new guest were already up, sharing breakfast together on a picnic mat to refresh themselves before setting off.

That morning's menu was local miso soup, warm rice balls, and grilled fish.

The samurai chewed his rice ball heartily, his eyes shining with delight.

"Ohhh! This food is absolutely delicious!" the man praised with his mouth half full. "The seasoning is just right and warms the stomach. Who cooked all this?"

Vivaldi, sipping his green tea, smiled proudly. "That was all cooked by Miss Elara. Even though she was a girl who rarely touched a kitchen knife in the past... her ability to adjust recipes is truly not to be underestimated."

The samurai looked at Elara with an admiring gaze and bowed politely. "Thank you for this wonderful meal, Miss Elara. You're truly talented."

Elara, stirring her soup, smiled shyly and nodded happily, glad that the results of her hard training in Kaigan were being praised by a local. "You're welcome, sir."

After that, Zenoda, sitting across from the samurai, set down his chopsticks. His sharp eyes stared intently at the man.

"Um... Mister Samurai," Zenoda called, opening a serious conversation.

"Yes, what is it, young man?" the man replied warmly.

"Since last night you haven't told us," Zenoda pressed. "Who exactly are you? Your swordsmanship isn't something an ordinary wanderer would possess."

Hearing the direct question, the man slapped his forehead.

"Ugh! Goodness, I forgot to introduce myself entirely because I was too focused on how delicious this food is. Forgive my rudeness," the man said. He then straightened his back. "My name is Danzo Uesugi. And as you can see from my worn-out clothes... I used to be a clan samurai, but now I'm just a Ronin living freely."

"Ronin?" Zenoda repeated, furrowing his brow.

"That's right," Danzo nodded. "In other words, I'm a swordsman or samurai without a master to serve."

"I see," Zenoda murmured. The Ronin status explained his freedom, but not his flawless technique from last night.

Danzo Uesugi then turned his gaze to the black, wooden-sheathed sword resting beside Zenoda's thigh. The Ronin's eyes shone with great curiosity.

"If I may ask, who are you yourself, Mister Zenoda?" Danzo asked in return. "Are you a Ronin as well, from another region? Because since last night, I've been observing, and I've noticed you always carry and fight with that Iato sword. Are you an elite student from a particular sword school (Dojo)?"

Zenoda was a little surprised by that conclusion. "I'm not a Ronin, and I have no affiliation with anyone on this continent. You could say I learned to use this sword self-taught. And by the way... why did you immediately assume I was a student of some great school just because I carry this sword?"

Danzo chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ahh, do you really not know the basic culture of our continent?" Danzo explained, in the tone of a teacher. "On this Southern Continent, people regard the weapon they carry, and the length of its blade, as a symbol of an absolute caste system. There's the long Katana, a marker of the upper class and nobility, and then there's the short Wakizashi, a self-defense tool for commoners or ordinary people without any martial arts training."

Danzo pointed at Zenoda's sword. "Now... for people who specifically carry an Iato—a mid-length sword focused on lightning-fast draws—they're usually students from a special sword school (Dojo) for the middle class, who dedicate their lives to training a deadly technique called Iado. It's very rare for an ordinary person to wield that weapon if they aren't affiliated with any dojo."

Hearing that piece of cultural history, Zenoda nodded, understanding.

"Ohhh..." Zenoda replied. "So you thought I was a student of some great school because I carry this Iado sword, is that it?"

Hearing Zenoda's conclusion, Danzo went silent for two seconds before finally bursting into laughter, clutching his stomach.

"HAHAHAHAHA! Goodness... Sorry, forgive me, Mister Zenoda," Danzo said, wiping away tears of laughter. "It seems you've misunderstood and mixed up something very basic."

Zenoda raised an eyebrow, confused. "Misunderstood?"

"Yes," Danzo explained, returning to a serious but friendly tone. "Listen carefully. Iado is the name of the technique—the art of drawing a sword at incredible speed. Iato, meanwhile, is the name of the physical sword type that you and I both carry. Remember: Iado is the technique, Iato is the sword. Though, admittedly, the two words are sometimes inseparable and often confuse outsiders. I hope this becomes a new lesson for you, so you won't be laughed at once you arrive in Nihondu, Mister Zenoda!"

Hearing the decisive correction from a local about the weapon he'd been misnaming all this time, Zenoda froze. His usually blank face instantly turned red with overwhelming embarrassment at his own presumption.

"Er... alright, I'll remember that," Zenoda muttered, turning his face away to hide his cracked pride.

Seeing the strongest, most stoic man in their group just get lectured like a small child, Elara couldn't hold back her laughter.

"Hmmmmh!" Elara teased with a wide, mischievous grin. "Look at that! Mister Zenoda Blanco, famous as the smartest genius from the Northern Continent of Koreson, just got a long lecture for mispronouncing the name of his own weapon! How hilarious!"

Hearing the princess's mockery, Zenoda narrowed his eyes sharply. He wasn't going to lose.

"Heh. Better to get a weapon's name wrong," Zenoda retorted with a thin smirk, looking Elara up and down, "than to drool carelessly in bed and shamelessly use someone else's arm as a pillow."

Thud.

Elara's face instantly turned as red as a boiled crab, remembering the incident on the ship that time. "T-THAT WAS BECAUSE I WAS TIREEEED!" Elara shrieked in self-defense, smacking Zenoda's arm.

Watching the silly, teenager-like bickering, Karham, Ziryal, Annesia, Linaya, and the other nobles couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

Their laughter erupted together, warming up the morning. Once everyone was full and their energy restored, they packed up camp and continued their journey.

On the way, traveling down a wider dirt road toward the capital, another oddity occurred.

Instead of sitting comfortably inside the plush caravan with Vivaldi and Elara, Zenoda chose to walk alongside the carriage as usual, since he hated the jolting of the wagon. But unexpectedly, Danzo Uesugi the Ronin did the exact same thing! The long-haired man walked calmly alongside Zenoda, outside the caravan.

From behind the curtain of the women's caravan window, Elara rested her chin and stared at the two walking men with a puzzled expression.

"I really don't get it," Elara grumbled quietly.

Annesia, reading a spellbook, looked up. "What don't you get, Princess?"

"That," Elara pointed outside the window. "Why does Mister Danzo prefer to torture his own legs and follow Zenoda's weird habit instead of sitting comfortably in the caravan? We already offered him a nice comfy seat."

Linaya, sorting through some herbs, smiled slightly at the princess's confusion. "Perhaps... Mister Danzo happens to have a habit, or an illness, of getting motion sickness on land vehicles, exactly like Master Zenoda. Maybe they're bonding as fellow Iato users."

Elara shook her head, her face suddenly turning a bit pale.

"Or maybe..." Elara whispered dramatically, "...the swordsman teachings from the Southern Continent strictly forbid their practitioners from riding luxury carriages, because there's some cursed myth saying that if they ride in a horse-drawn carriage, they'll instantly become unlucky, die and get left behind just like that, or get kidnapped by forest spirits?"

Hearing the horror conspiracy theory coming from the mouth of a royal princess, Annesia went quiet for a moment before finally giggling.

"Pfft... Goodness, Princess Elara the genius!" Annesia teased, covering her mouth. "So it turns out you secretly believe in and are afraid of mystical superstitions and village folklore!"

Realizing she'd just exposed her irrational fear, Elara's face flushed with embarrassment. "H-hey! I was just guessing at their cultural logic!"

"HAHAHAHA!"

The women inside the caravan—Linaya and Annesia—laughed uproariously, their voices breaking the forest's silence.

Outside the caravan, hearing the loud laughter of the girls leaking out from the window, Zenoda and Danzo could only exchange a glance. Both sword masters simultaneously gave a thin smile and let out a resigned sigh, as if telepathically communicating, man to man: "Well, what can you do... women, honestly."

One Week Later...

The journey across the countryside and hills of the Southern Continent, escorted by two sword Grandmasters (Zenoda and Danzo), passed without a single bandit or monster daring to approach.

Until finally, on a scorching midday, the Koreson group arrived at the top of a rocky hill. Below them stretched an incredibly magnificent view of a massive city. Giant fortress walls, a beautiful multi-tiered castle roof, and thousands of wooden houses with glowing red lanterns feasted their eyes.

They had finally reached the main gate of the swordsman civilization's capital: the City of Nihondu.

Their caravan stopped exactly a hundred meters before entering the Nihondu military checkpoint area. Lord Vivaldi halted his horse, remembering something very important.

"Oh right, everyone, may I have your attention for a moment," Vivaldi said. The middle-aged man reached into his robe's inner pocket and pulled out a parchment scroll sealed with a wax stamp bearing the Koreson ice rose emblem.

"Before we go through the immigration gate and process our entry permits, I just remembered a secret message from His Majesty King Ronan. He ordered me to open and read this special letter only right when we were about to enter our first day in the capital of the Southern Continent."

Everyone, including Zenoda, Elara, and Danzo, fell silent, listening with great anticipation. An order from a king surely contained secret diplomatic connections, VIP lodging recommendations, or intelligence contacts for their mission against the Purple Snake.

Vivaldi broke the wax seal, unrolled the letter, and read it aloud.

"To Lord Vivaldi and all members of the Koreson Southern Continent Expedition Team. I am quite certain that by the time this letter is read, you have all completed your exhausting voyage and are currently standing very close to the main gate of the Southern Continent's capital."

Vivaldi swallowed hard, continuing the crucial passage.

"Through this letter, I, your King, simply wish to inform you of one very important operational fact. Once you enter that city... you must try to find connections, rent lodging, and search for your own sword school (Dojo) from scratch, to be taught the art of blending in there.

Because, honestly... my kingdom has absolutely no official diplomatic connections, no local politician friends, let alone any acquaintances managing an Academy in this Southern Continent! Good luck, my children! Hehehehe! — Signed, King Ronan of Koreson."

Silence. The dry wind blew a single dead leaf past their faces.

Hearing the contents of a letter that showed absolutely no moral responsibility as a sponsor of a state mission, Zenoda could only freeze for a moment. His brain processed the word 'Hehehehe' written by the king in bold ink.

They'd been sent to an enemy continent, with no connections, no housing recommendations, and just dropped off in the middle of the capital's streets?!

After standing frozen in stunned silence for a full three seconds, Zenoda's patience finally snapped. The former Supreme God tilted his head up toward the sky, gripped his own hair in frustration, and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"DAMN THAT KIIIING!" Zenoda roared, his voice shaking the forest. "WHY DID HE ONLY SAY SOMETHING THIS IMPORTANT NOW, AFTER WE'VE TRAVELED THIS ENTIRE DEADLY JOURNEY ACROSS CONTINENTS?! AAAAAHHGGHHH!"

Watching the strongest young man among them raging at the sky over being tricked by his own king, Elara, Karham, Ziryal, and Vivaldi could only scratch their suddenly-itchy heads in confusion. They were truly stranded.

But amid the crisis over where to shelter, Danzo Uesugi the Ronin smiled broadly. He patted the shoulder of Zenoda, who was crouched in depression.

"Hahaha! Relax, my friends from the North!" Danzo offered, his eyes gleaming. "If you truly have nowhere to stay or seek connections for a teacher... luckily, I happen to own a small private sword school on the outskirts of Nihondu. If you'd like, I'd be more than happy to offer my dojo to help house all of you during your stay here!"

Hearing this golden offer fall from the sky, Zenoda and his group let out an incredibly long sigh of relief. At least, they wouldn't have to sleep on the streets of Nihondu tonight.

Meanwhile, on the Other Side of the World — Koreson Castle...

King Ronan sat sipping hot tea in his magnificent study, in the far-away Northern Continent.

"HAAAACHHHHHUUUUUU!"

The King sneezed so violently that his crown tilted and his tea spilled all over his desk. The middle-aged man wiped his nose with a handkerchief, then glanced out the window with a smile full of guilt.

"Hmmm..." King Ronan muttered casually. "For some reason, I have a feeling that a group of people at the edge of the world is cursing and hating me very much right now."