Morning came quietly.
The district that had once echoed with laughter now settled into a calm farewell.
Men moved about, securing provisions onto horses and carriages—wooden crates of supplies fastened tightly with rope.
Armor was adjusted.
Blades checked.
Readiness returned.
Shinju adjusted the fall of his new cloak as he walked beside Itsuki who led the formation, Shinju fabric shifting softly with each step.
Gone were the worn layers he once relied on. In their place was a dark, ash-toned cloak—deep charcoal threaded with faint gray, giving it a subtle, smoke-kissed look. It draped to his calves, heavy enough for protection, yet loose enough for movement.
Beneath it, a fitted muted white tunic contrasted against the darkness, its clean lines sharp and simple. Black wrappings reinforced his forearms, and a deep crimson sash sat firm at his waist, its slightly frayed edges hinting at quiet intensity.
His sword rested at his side, secured neatly, the hilt angled for a quick draw.
The hood lay back, revealing his dark, slightly tousled hair. His expression was calm—but sharper now, edged with something colder.
Behind him, Squadron 6 moved in sync, steady and silent.
At the entrance, the old man stood with two women beside him, bowing repeatedly as the squad prepared to depart.
"Safe travels," he said, hands pressed together. "May fortune guide your path."
The women followed with polite bows, their expressions warm.
"Come back anytime," one added softly.
Itsuki gave a small nod.
With that—
The squad began to move.
Hooves pressed against dirt.
Wheels creaked.
They passed through the final stretch of Okumura Town—
And soon, the gates were behind them.
The path stretched wide ahead.
Quiet.
Open.
For a while, no one spoke.
Only the steady rhythm of hooves filled the air.
Then—
Shinju broke the silence.
"Itsuki… when are you going to teach me something new?"
A pause.
"I need to get stronger. I've been practicing the basics like you said… but nothing's changing."
The sound of hooves continued between them.
Itsuki didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"You keep repeating the same movements," he said calmly.
"The same patterns. The same basics…"
He glanced at Shinju.
"…but you're not actually learning anything new, are you?"
Shinju looked away.
Silence.
Itsuki exhaled lightly.
His tone softened—just slightly.
"Going back to the basics isn't weakness."
He gestured lazily with one hand.
"Some warriors spend their entire lives mastering just that."
The road narrowed ahead.
Dust rose faintly beneath their horses.
"It's fine to return to your roots," Itsuki continued.
"But not when you're trapped there."
A pause.
Then—
A faint smile.
"Don't worry."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"I'll teach you something new."
Shinju's grip tightened around the reins.
"…It's up to you what you do with it."
Before he could respond—
A voice tore through the air.
"HELP!—HELP ME!"
The entire squad shifted instantly.
Ahead—
The path dipped into a rough slope.
A man on horseback burst into view, cloaked in dark fabric, riding wildly toward them.
Behind him—
Five armed riders.
Bandits.
Closing fast.
Itsuki didn't flinch.
"Shinju."
Shinju straightened.
"You and Raizo."
A brief pause.
"Handle it."
Raizo moved first.
He leapt from his horse in one smooth motion.
Shinju followed—
Landing just beside him.
The bandits charged.
The first rushed straight at Shinju—
Blade raised wildly.
Shinju stepped forward—
His hand shifted on the grip—
The hilt struck first.
CRACK!
A clean blow across the man's jaw—
He was thrown off his horse, crashing hard into the dirt.
The second came from the left—
Swinging down—
Shinju raised his blade—
CLACK!
He caught the strike, sliding it aside—
Then turned his wrist—
The flat of his blade slammed into the attacker's ribs.
THUD!
The man was knocked sideways, tumbling off his horse.
The third hesitated—
Fear flickering.
Too late.
Shinju stepped in—
A sharp, controlled strike—
The back of the blade struck the side of his neck.
He dropped instantly.
Behind him—
Raizo was just as efficient.
The fourth bandit charged—
Raizo stepped in—
THUD!
A single punch to the face sent him flying.
The last tried to turn his horse—
To flee—
Raizo was already there.
A precise strike to the back of the neck—
Silence.
Five men.
Down.
In seconds.
Clean.
Controlled.
Itsuki stepped forward calmly.
"…Tie them."
Raizo nodded once.
Within moments, the bandits were restrained.
The cloaked rider stumbled off his horse, breathing heavily.
"Th-thank you… I thought I was finished…"
Renji and the others approached now, slower.
"No need," Itsuki said.
"They weren't anything special."
Behind them, the rest of the squad came to a stop.
Ina and Rin stepped down from the carriage.
"What happened?" Ina asked, scanning the scene.
"Nothing serious," Itsuki replied, already observing the captives.
One of the bandits groaned.
Then—
He looked up.
Eyes widening.
"…That crest…"
Another turned his head weakly.
"…No way…"
A third let out a shaky laugh.
"…It's the Revolutionary Army…"
Then—
A bandit with a bald head forced himself upright slightly, staring directly at Shinju.
"…Oi… look properly…"
He swallowed.
"…That's him."
Another bandit frowned.
"…Who?"
The bald one let out a dry chuckle.
"The Dark Samurai…"
His gaze didn't leave Shinju.
Another bandit coughed, forcing himself up slightly.
"Are you sure… that's him?…"
His eyes locked onto Shinju.
"The one who took down the Red Phoenix Bandits…"
A quiet tension settled over the group.
Behind them—
The cloaked man stood still.
Silent.
Watching.
His breathing had steadied.
His fear—
Gone.
So… they're well-known…
His grip tightened beneath the cloak.
They could be useful…
His gaze lingered on Shinju.
Before anyone noticed—
The sound of more hooves cut through the air.
Fast.
Closing in.
From ahead—
Two riders emerged from the path.
Direct.
Unwavering.
They didn't slow.
Both leapt from their horses the moment they reached the scene.
Middle-aged men.
Experienced.
One moved instantly—drawing his sword in a single, sharp motion as he rushed forward.
The other remained where he stood, calm, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his blade.
Watching.
Waiting.
"Release the prince, you bandits!"
His voice was deep. Firm. Commanding.
The restrained men froze.
Ina's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Prince?" she repeated, a hint of confusion crossing her face.
Before anyone else could react—
The cloaked man stepped forward.
"Stop."
His voice was calm—but carried weight.
"Put your blade away."
The swordsman halted mid-step.
"They're not bandits," the cloaked man continued.
"They're the ones who saved me."
A brief silence.
Then—
The man slowly lowered his sword.
"…My apologies."
His gaze shifted.
Studying the group more carefully now.
It lingered—
On Itsuki.
Specifically—
The emblem embedded into his pauldron.
Recognition.
"…I see."
He straightened slightly.
"You bear the crest of the Revolutionary Army."
Itsuki met his gaze calmly.
"Yes."
A faint pause.
Then, with quiet certainty—
"We do."
"If you don't mind me asking…" Itsuki said calmly, his eyes steady.
"What is a prince doing this far from his lands?"
The cloaked man paused.
Then exhaled softly.
"You're right."
The prince reached up and slowly pulled back his hood.
Soft strands of ash-blonde hair slipped free, catching the light like fading sunlight.
His eyes followed—
calm… steady… and impossibly gentle.
A quiet green, like still water.
For a moment, no one spoke.
There was no overwhelming pressure… no killing intent…
And yet—
standing before him felt… different.
"We have yet to properly introduce ourselves."
He straightened.
"My name is Cassiel Elric the Third—Prince of the Empire of Valdoria."
A subtle shift passed through the group.
He gestured to the man who had first drawn his sword.
"This is Valko Draven—one of my royal guards."
Valko gave a short nod, still tense.
Then the prince gestured to the other.
"And this is Seren Valis."
Seren inclined his head slightly—quiet, observant.
The prince's expression grew more serious.
"My empire… needs your help."
A brief silence followed.
Valko stepped forward slightly, lowering his voice.
"Your Highness… are you certain we should be telling them this?"
"Valko," the prince said gently.
"Please."
Itsuki's gaze sharpened slightly.
"…What do you mean your empire needs our help?"
The prince didn't answer immediately.
His eyes drifted—distant.
As if recalling something heavy.
A long chamber.
Cold stone walls.
A circular table surrounded by nobles and officials.
Voices overlapped—
Tense.
Heated.
"We cannot delay this any longer!"
"They've refused us for the last time!"
"And yet he makes a point—forcing this could lead to war!"
Arguments clashed from every direction.
At the head of the table—
A man sat in silence.
Then—
He raised his hand.
The room quieted.
"…Enough."
All eyes turned.
The prince's uncle.
Zaire.
"We've debated this long enough," he said calmly.
"It is time to decide."
A pause.
"Those in favor—raise your hands."
One by one—
Hands rose.
Ten.
"…Those opposed."
Five.
A clear divide.
Zaire's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Then it is settled."
He stood.
"We proceed as planned."
A shift in the room.
Uneasy.
Tense.
The prince rose suddenly from his seat.
"Uncle—please, don't do this."
Zaire glanced at him.
Cold.
"We have no choice."
"They've refused to join the Empire," he continued.
"If they will not stand with us… then their land will be taken."
The words hung heavy.
"Then let me go," the prince said firmly.
The room stilled.
"Give me one chance."
A pause.
"I know the chief's son… we've spoken before. If anyone can reach them—"
Zaire's gaze hardened.
"You would walk into their territory alone?"
"I won't be alone."
The prince stepped forward.
"I'll take my Royal guards.. No army. No pressure."
Murmurs spread across the council.
"That's reckless—"
"They could kill him—"
Zaire remained silent.
Watching him.
Studying him.
"…If I fail," the prince continued,
"…then you may proceed however you see fit."
Silence.
Heavy.
Then—
Zaire exhaled slowly.
"…Fine."
The room shifted.
"You may go."
A pause.
"But you will take an escort."
The prince shook his head.
"No."
Zaire's expression darkened slightly.
"You will not go unprotected."
"Too many men will provoke them," the prince replied.
"It will ruin any chance of negotiation."
A tense moment passed.
Then—
"…Five."
Zaire's voice was firm.
"No less."
The prince held his gaze.
Then—
"…Fine."
Zaire turned away slightly.
The meeting was over.
The chamber doors opened.
The prince stepped out into the corridor.
His footsteps echoed softly.
Behind him—
"Your Highness."
Valko approached quickly.
"You should reconsider this."
Seren followed just behind, silent as ever.
The prince didn't stop walking.
"…No."
"Where is Kael," Eric asked Seren.
"He's still home looking after his daughter." He responded.
"This might sound cruel, but send a message that I need him at my side, now."
"I can't go without my complete Royal Guards."
His voice was quiet—but resolute.
"We end this without bloodshed."
Valko frowned.
"…Or we walk into a trap."
The prince glanced ahead.
"…Then we'll find out."
The three continued down the corridor—
The prince's voice grew quieter.
"…That was a week ago."
But he didn't stop.
His gaze drifted again—
Pulled back into memory.
The royal chambers were dim.
Heavy curtains blocked most of the light, leaving only a faint glow across the room.
At the center—
A large bed.
Two figures lay upon it.
Still.
Unmoving.
The King… and the Queen.
Their breathing was shallow.
Faint.
Alive—
But barely.
Beside the doors stood Valko, Seren, and Kael.
"How's your kid," Seren asked Kael.
"She's doing fine." Kael Smiled.
"She's …doing fine." Seren said in a low voice.
"But I thought you said she has Black Vein Disease and you were scared she would reach stage 2."
Kael waved his hand dismissively "ohh, it turns out she was just coming down with a cold, nothing that serious."
Seren's face was unreadable, as he stayed at Kael.
"Is something wrong?" Kael asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"No.." He turned to the direction of the prince.
"It's good that it was not that serious"
Seren paused.
"She's too young to experience that kind of pain."
The prince stood at the bedside.
His hands trembled slightly.
"…Father…"
No response.
"…Mother…"
Nothing.
His jaw tightened.
"I don't know what to do…" he whispered.
His eyes lowered.
"I understand the reason behind this war…"
A pause.
"But this…"
His voice softened.
"…this is wrong."
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Unforgiving.
Then—
He turned.
Resolve settling into his eyes.
"…Prepare the horses."
Elric glanced up at the sky, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Looks like it's going to rain."
A voice spoke from beside him, cautious.
"Young prince… this might be a sign."
A brief pause.
"That we should not go."
Elric didn't look back.
"Valko, don't start expecting the worst."
His voice remained calm, steady.
"Whatever happens… happens."
The gates creaked open.
Rain fell without mercy.
The prince rode out.
Valko, Seren, and Kael at his sides.
Behind them—
Five additional men, assigned by his uncle.
Silent.
Watching.
The journey ended at a fortified settlement.
Strong walls.
Iron gates.
A warrior's land.
Kurogane Village.