EPISODE 47: Kizuna Dojo

Amid Zenoda's frustration over King Ronan's irresponsible orders, an offer that felt like an oasis in the middle of a desert suddenly appeared.

Danzo Uesugi, the eccentric ronin they had just met, patted Zenoda's shoulder with a broad smile. "How about you all stay at my Dojo for a while?"

Hearing this golden offer, Lord Vivaldi, who always had a backup plan, immediately turned with sparkling eyes. "Ehh... would that be alright, Mister Danzo? Our group is quite large; we're worried about troubling you."

Danzo laughed lightly, waving his hand casually. "Of course it's fine! Throughout this week of travel, I've seen firsthand how you all interact. I believe you're all good people. So I don't mind at all if my little dojo becomes your place to stay."

After the whole group had a brief discussion and agreed to this very beneficial decision, they finally drove the caravan back toward the main gate of the Nihondu capital.

The capital of Nihondu was a masterpiece of traditional architecture. Its fortress walls were made of giant black stone, impossible to breach with ordinary cannons. At the very wide main gate, dozens of soldiers in red armor with long katana at their waists stood guard with watchful eyes.

Once the Koreson caravan pulled up at the checkpoint, a gate captain stepped forward with a fierce expression.

"Halt! Show your identification, all of you!" the gate captain ordered sternly.

Lord Vivaldi, very cooperatively, climbed down from the driver's seat. He pulled out a leather pouch and showed the entire stack of the group's official identification: from the golden badge of the Koreson merchant guild, to the elite student cards from Koreson Academy belonging to Elara and the three nobles, to the ranked adventurer plates belonging to the God Wings Party.

The gate captain examined the documents carefully. His brow furrowed upon seeing the stamp from the northern continent.

"Hmm..." the gate captain murmured, eyeing them suspiciously. "You're from the northern continent of Koreson, quite a distance away, aren't you? The seas have been rather unfriendly lately. What business could bring elites like you all the way here to the Southern Continent?"

Just as Vivaldi was about to construct a diplomatic excuse, Danzo Uesugi stepped forward to the front line, positioning himself between the guard and Vivaldi.

"They're distant relatives of mine," Danzo cut in, his tone calm yet radiating a strange authority. "They intended to visit me today. However, a week ago, while I was handling business at the bamboo forest border, I happened to run into them along the way. So, I decided to guide them and come home together with this caravan."

Hearing that voice, the gate captain looked up. The moment his eyes caught sight of Danzo's face beneath his straw hat, the guard's attitude did a complete one-eighty!

The guard's fierce expression instantly paled, cold sweat trickling down, and he immediately bowed with great respect—nearly forming a ninety-degree angle.

"A-ahh! It's Mister Danzo!" the guard said, his voice trembling, filled with deference. "F-forgive my rudeness! If you say so, then we trust it completely! In that case... please, come on through, gentlemen and ladies!"

The giant wooden crossbar was lifted at once without further questioning. The caravan rolled forward into the city.

After passing through the gate and traveling several hundred meters down the capital's bustling streets, Zenoda, sitting beside the driver's seat, furrowed his brow. His instincts told him something was off about this man's "Ronin" status.

Zenoda turned toward Danzo, who was walking casually beside the carriage.

"Mister Danzo," Zenoda called.

"Hmmmm? What is it, Mister Zenoda?" Danzo replied with an innocent smile.

"Why did the notoriously strict capital military gate guards immediately submit, turn pale, and simply trust you without inspecting our belongings any further?" Zenoda pressed.

Danzo pressed a finger to his lips and winked. "Shh... Let's discuss that mystery later at home, shall we? There are too many ears listening on this street."

"Oh, okay."

Hearing that, Zenoda could only comply and listen. He suppressed his curiosity for the time being.

They continued their journey, cutting through the bustle of Nihondu City, heading toward the quieter, greener eastern part of the city. After roughly a dozen or so minutes of travel, their caravan stopped in front of a traditional wooden building complex surrounded by a white brick wall. Above its wooden gate hung a beautifully carved teak signboard with calligraphy reading: "Kizuna Dojo."

"We've arrived," Danzo said cheerfully.

Not long after, Danzo stepped forward and opened the unlocked main gate of the dojo. Zenoda, Elara, and the rest of the group steered the caravan into the fairly spacious dojo courtyard. Once everyone had climbed down from the caravan to stretch their muscles, Danzo pointed toward the backyard. There stood a barn for storing the carriage and a clean horse stable.

Once the caravan was parked and the horses fed, Danzo led Zenoda, Elara, and the rest of the group up the wooden steps into the dojo's main hall.

But just as Zenoda's foot crossed the threshold of the dojo's sliding door (shoji)...

SWOOOSH!

A pure, sharp killing intent exploded from the dim corner of the room! In an instant, the shadow of a bespectacled woman shot forward like a bullet from the left side, intending to strike directly at Zenoda's neck!

Zenoda, being extremely well-trained, sensed the fatal attack within a thousandth of a second. He turned to the right to see the attacker.

But at that critical moment, as his eyes moved to lock onto the target, something Zenoda had never planned for happened within his own body.

The boundary of his not-yet-fully-healed soul seal suddenly reacted on its own. His pitch-black pupils blinked, and in an instant, his irises shifted, radiating a Brilliant Gold light.

Zenoda had unintentionally activated his Golden Eye!

(World Note: The Golden Eye of Ursilium's true form is known as the "Eye of Supreme God." This eye holds absolute authority over the universe with limitless functions. However, since it is currently sealed within a mortal vessel as "Zenoda," the only absolute power he can access is "Space-Time Vision" on a microscopic scale—where Zenoda can perceive objects, energy flows, and time moving so incredibly slowly it nearly stops.)

Instantly, the world around Zenoda stopped spinning.

The creak of wood vanished. Dust floating in the air froze mid-drift. In his eyes, the bespectacled woman's lightning-fast Iado strike now appeared to move as slowly as a crawling snail.

Zenoda observed the woman for a moment within this "frozen time." He studied her facial expression, her posture, and the trajectory of her blade. The young man mused casually in his mind.

(Hmm... judging from the panicked, angry expression on her face, and her desperate-looking movements, this woman is definitely not an assassin,) Zenoda deduced analytically. (She just wants to protect what she calls home from strangers. Seeing us all barge in together, she probably assumed I was the boss of some group of intruders or bandits, so she decided to strike me down in the very first second, huh? Well, can't be helped. This needs to be stopped.)

With a movement that—to any normal person's eyes—far exceeded the speed of lightning, Zenoda simply raised his left hand in a completely relaxed manner.

CLINK!

Zenoda caught the sharp blade of the woman's Iato sword by simply pinching it between two fingers: his thumb and index finger! His mortal physical strength, coated with a thin layer of golden mana, brought the wind-fast blade to a complete, silent stop.

Time resumed its normal flow.

Everyone who had just entered—including Ziryal, Karham, and Danzo himself—could only freeze in stunned silence, eyes wide. They drew long breaths, shocked at the monstrous reflex Zenoda had just displayed.

Even the bespectacled woman who had launched the attack was scared half to death. She tried to pull her sword back, straining every ounce of strength in her arm, but the blade wouldn't budge at all, as if it had been swallowed by a mountain of stone.

"L-let go of my sword, Intruder!" the woman shouted, panicked yet full of courage.

Zenoda didn't respond to her anger. Instead, the young man bent his head, examining the design of the blade pinched between his fingers for a moment.

Realizing from the length and curve of the blade that it was an Iato (a sword specifically for the fast-draw Iado technique), Zenoda released his grip and let the sword go. The woman stumbled backward from her own recoiled pull.

However, after releasing the sword, Zenoda looked at the gap between his thumb and index finger. There, a thin cut had drawn a single drop of red blood. His mortal skin had been slightly wounded.

Zenoda furrowed his brow, then murmured quietly in his mind.

(Hmmmmm, interesting. This bespectacled woman is quite strong, and her technique is precise enough to pierce my mortal skin. But the real issue is... why did my Golden Eye suddenly activate on its own without my command?) Zenoda thought uneasily. (Could it be... because my divine seal weakened and cracked badly when I was forced to fight that annoying whale, Bake-Kujira, out at sea that time, so now my power keeps leaking whenever my instincts sense a threat? This is dangerous.)

Before Zenoda could think further about the cosmic consequences, a shrill voice full of fury exploded behind him.

"HEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, HUH?!"

Elara, having just recovered from her shock, immediately stepped forward, ahead of Zenoda. The Koreson princess puffed out her chest, glaring at the bespectacled woman with sapphire-blue eyes radiating a murderous icy aura.

"You suddenly attacked my friend from a blind spot!" Elara raged. "Were you trying to kill us without even asking first?!"

The bespectacled woman didn't flinch at all under Elara's noble aura. She raised her Iato sword back into a ready stance, glaring at Elara with pure hatred.

"What exactly do you all think you're doing, barging in here in a mob?!" the woman shot back, her voice trembling yet firm. "Come to rob what's left of our dojo?! Or maybe... you're all just lapdogs sent by that ridiculous Katana noble?!"

Elara furrowed her brow, utterly failing to understand the accusation. "Huh? Which ridiculous Katana noble?! What are you even talking about?!"

"Don't play dumb with me, Noble Rat!" the woman snapped back. "You're here to force me to hand over this dojo's certificate again, aren't you?! To the point where you'd dare bring a whole squad today and... and take my Teacher hostage!"

The woman pointed a trembling finger at Danzo, who stood frozen behind the Koreson group.

Hearing himself called a hostage, Danzo Uesugi finally snapped out of his confusion. He rushed forward to the front of the Koreson group, waving both hands frantically.

"Waah, wait, wait! Hold on a second, Miyuki!" Danzo called out, trying to mediate. "I'm not a hostage, you know!"

The woman called Miyuki blinked behind her glasses. She lowered her sword slightly, staring at her teacher in total confusion. "Huh? W-what do you mean you're not a hostage...?"

"They're not that noble's lackeys!" Danzo explained quickly. "They're our honored guests! I'm the one who invited them all here to stay for a while!"

Seeing the argument spiraling further out of control, with the potential to destroy the dojo thanks to Elara's rising anger already sparking ice flowers from her palms, Zenoda decided to step in.

With his signature blank expression, Zenoda walked up beside Elara. Without saying much, he raised his left hand, placed his palm on top of Elara's head, and gently stroked the girl's snow-white hair, as if calming down a hissing cat.

"Shhh... there, there. Calm down," Zenoda said in a flat monotone. "For now, let's go inside first and discuss this misunderstanding with cool heads."

Being treated like a small child, having her head patted by the young man she liked in front of so many people, Elara's face—which had been radiating cold fury moments ago—instantly turned bright red like a boiled tomato. The freezing air around her evaporated at once from the heat of her embarrassment.

Elara immediately lowered her face and whispered toward Zenoda's chest in an extremely nervous voice.

"E-ehh... Z-Zenoda... c-can you stop this? P-please take your hand off my head... I... I-I'm... honestly... s-s-so embarrassed being seen like this by everyone..." Elara stammered.

Zenoda withdrew his hand and shrugged casually. "Ohh, sorry. I did that because I was afraid you'd blow up this whole place and make things worse with your blue-blooded pride."

Elara pouted slightly at that rational yet irritating explanation, but she managed to calm herself down. Once the situation settled and no one had any more intention of swinging a sword, they all finally took off their shoes and entered the dojo's tatami reception room.

The atmosphere inside the Kizuna Dojo's reception room (Washitsu) felt very classic and peaceful. The scent of green tea wafted from freshly served ceramic cups.

Once everyone had sat in a circle on the tatami floor, Danzo, as the host, recounted everything that had happened at the border to his female student—from the night of the ambush to Vivaldi's team's journey up to this point.

After hearing her teacher's full explanation, the bespectacled female student lowered her head deeply until her forehead touched the mat. Her face was filled with guilt.

"Forgive me... I truly beg your pardon for this misunderstanding," the woman said, full of remorse. "I thought you were enemies who'd come to forcibly take over this dojo."

Zenoda, sitting cross-legged across from her, sipped his green tea and nodded understandingly. "I apologize for the misunderstanding as well. Perhaps our group's faces and aura really do look like a gang of troublemakers."

Danzo smiled with relief, seeing peace restored.

"Oh right, Mister Zenoda, Miss Elara," Danzo said, making introductions. "This is Miyuki Azuna. She's my first student, and also the best student at this little dojo of mine."

Zenoda set down his cup. "Ohh... nice to meet you, Miss Miyuki. I'm Zenoda Blanco. And these are my friends from Koreson."

The rest of the group—Elara, Ziryal, Karham, Vivaldi, and the others—bowed their heads as well. "Nice to meet you, Miss Miyuki."

Miyuki adjusted her glasses, returning a warm, motherly smile, a stark contrast to the killing intent she'd radiated at the door earlier.

"Yes, nice to meet you all," Miyuki said warmly. "And also... welcome to Master Danzo's dojo, Kizuna Dojo. A dojo that upholds justice, with our life motto being: The Sword That Protects Bonds, Guided by Conscience."

Hearing such an idealistic and kind-hearted motto, Zenoda nodded in agreement. He rather liked the philosophy.

"Thank you for the welcome and the tea," Zenoda replied politely. But his analytical mind hadn't forgotten the main conflict at the door earlier. "By the way, Miss Miyuki... about that 'strange Katana noble' you mentioned earlier... who exactly are they? What happened to this dojo?"

Hearing that question, the smile on Miyuki's face instantly dimmed. She let out a long sigh and gazed at her teacup sorrowfully.

"Ehh... actually, it's a fairly long story, Mister Zenoda," Miyuki said hesitantly. "It involves business rivalries between dojos and territorial disputes in Nihondu, but I—"

CRASH! SMASH!

Before Miyuki could finish recounting the details of her past, the sound of splintering wood and shattering objects suddenly rang out loudly from the front courtyard. Someone had just kicked the wooden gate to pieces!

"Tch! What now?!" Karham cursed.

Hearing the blatant, trouble-seeking commotion, Vivaldi, Zenoda, Miyuki, and the others immediately rose to their feet. They hurried out of the tatami room to see what was actually happening in the front yard.

Arriving at the front veranda, Lord Vivaldi furrowed his brow. "What's going on here? Who broke the gate?"

In the middle of the dojo's sandy courtyard, its gate now in ruins, stood a handsome young man with an extraordinarily arrogant expression. He was about the same age as Zenoda, wearing an extremely expensive red silk kimono. At his left hip hung a long katana in a blood-red sheath carved with golden thread. Behind the arrogant young man stood nine guards, all carrying katanas of the same design.

The haughty young man lifted his chin, speaking in a condescending tone.

"I've come to this filthy shack because I'm looking for Miyuki," the young man declared loudly.

Vivaldi, being a polite man, raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me, young master. What do you mean by destroying property like this just to look for someone?"

The young noble glanced disdainfully at Vivaldi and the Koreson group, dressed in the simple black hakama they'd bought at a flea market.

"Hah," the young man scoffed, turning his face away. "Judging by your shabby clothes, you all must be beggars or newcomers to this region, huh? You commoners have no business meddling in the affairs of us rulers! Quickly, tell me, where is Miyuki hiding?!"

Hearing that low-class insult, a vein of impatience appeared on Zenoda's forehead. The black-haired young man rolled his neck with an audible crack, then stepped forward past Vivaldi and Elara.

"Oh, wow, wow, wow," Zenoda said casually, his voice dripping with the highest level of sarcasm. "Watch your mouth. You're quite the noisy one, young master."

Zenoda fully revealed his face from the shadow of the veranda's roof. His cold black eyes met the arrogant young man's gaze directly.

The young noble looked Zenoda up and down. When his gaze fell upon Zenoda's left hand gripping the simple black wooden sheath of his Iato, the corner of the young man's mouth curled upward into a mocking smile.

"Hah! An Iato user, I see," the young man sneered. "Who are you? Are you some new student at this junkyard dojo trying to play hero?"

Zenoda descended the veranda steps with slow, unhurried strides. "You can call me Zenoda, young master."

"Hmph," the young man scoffed, waving his hand in an obnoxiously theatrical gesture. "The name of a lower-caste Iato user, a commoner like you, isn't remotely worth remembering! However... since you've had the ridiculous courage to introduce yourself in front of me... very well! Allow me to introduce myself so you understand exactly who you're dealing with!"

The young man puffed out his chest with absolute pride.

"My name is Shirogane Muramasa!" he shouted arrogantly. "I am one of the Main Heirs of the Muramasa Dojo! A ruling dojo specializing in the greatly feared Katana style, and one of the highest noble clans controlling a district in this very capital!"

Hearing that self-introduction, packed with long-winded titles and noble trappings, Zenoda was utterly unimpressed. He simply dug at his ear with his pinky finger.

"Ohh... is that so?" Zenoda responded, flat as a chalkboard.

At the same time, Zenoda turned his head, glancing toward Valerius Hinno, who stood on the veranda behind him.

Zenoda and Valerius's eyes met briefly.

Watching the scene unfolding before him right now—an arrogant young man, bragging about his family name, noble titles, bringing along a gang of henchmen, and looking down on commoners—Valerius Hinno instantly felt a wave of Deja Vu. It was as if Valerius were staring at his own reflection in a mirror, back when he first met Zenoda at the Koreson academy!

Valerius swallowed hard, covering his face with his hand, utterly mortified as the memories of his past crept back over him.

After glancing at Valerius, Zenoda turned back to look at Shirogane with an entirely innocent expression.

"Ohh right," Zenoda said, continuing the conversation. "Young master Shirogane said he was looking for Miyuki, right? What a coincidence—she's inside, having some tea."

Shirogane's eyes lit up with satisfaction. "Hmm, good! In that case, call her out here at once and have her kneel before me!"

Zenoda's steps stopped exactly five meters in front of Shirogane. The black-haired young man tilted his head down slightly, hiding his eyes behind his bangs.

"But..." Zenoda's voice suddenly grew heavier, the temperature around him plummeting instantly. "If you want to take even one centimeter of a step into this house to meet her... you'll have to beat me first."

Hearing a challenge from a lower-caste commoner, Shirogane's face hardened with fury. His veins bulged.

"Heh! Insolent trash! Do you think you alone can defeat all of us?!" Shirogane snarled.

With a single hand signal from Shirogane, all nine of his guards stepped forward at once!

SHING! SHING! SHING!

Ten katanas were drawn from their sheaths in unison. The blades of their katanas radiated a blood-red mana aura, blazing brightly, spreading a metallic stench and wild killing intent across the entire dojo courtyard. They were ready to hack Zenoda into pieces of meat.

Facing ten bloodthirsty red blades, Zenoda didn't even shift his stance into a defensive posture. He simply stood upright, perfectly at ease.

Slowly, Zenoda's left thumb pressed against the handguard (Tsuba) of his black Iato, pushing the blade out about two centimeters from its sheath.

Click.

That quiet click sounded utterly lethal. Zenoda looked up, gazing at the ten nobles with an incredibly condescending, asymmetrical smile—the smile of a god ready to punish a misbehaving child.

Up on the veranda, watching Zenoda push his sword forward with that devilish smile, Valerius closed his eyes, rubbed his temples, and muttered with deep sympathy for the local nobles who had no idea what was coming for them.

"Ahhh shit... Here we go again."