The carriage creaked along the northern trail, its wheels kicking up dust beneath a dull gray sky. Ryu rode the mare at the front, his katana at his hip, the red-and-black Aura still humming faintly from the fight with the Iron Vipers. Kaze rode beside him, silver Aura quiet, his sharp eyes scanning the cliffs above. Inside the carriage, Lady Aiko sat upright despite the dust, her silk kimono dulled by the road but her gaze focused and unyielding. Behind them, Daigo and Kenta—bound, battered, and silent—trudged in chains, grim shadows trailing the group.
Their journey to Kyo had stretched five days longer, forced onto back routes to avoid bandit patrols. Still, the Ox's compound lingered in Ryu's thoughts like a storm on the horizon.
Inside the carriage, Aiko's voice broke the silence. "My father is Lord Taroji, third seat of the Imperial Council. Our family's tied to the Shogun's bloodline. We control the western trade routes of Kyo, and half its rice fields. That's why the Vipers took me—for ransom."
Ryu glanced back, eyebrows raised slightly, but it was Kaze who reacted—his grip tightening on the reins, his face stiffening.
"Taroji?" he muttered, voice low and hard. "You're that high up?"
Aiko narrowed her eyes at his tone. "Yes. My father's word carries weight. Why does that matter to you?"
Kaze didn't answer. His gaze turned distant, locked on the path ahead.
Ryu felt the shift immediately. Something cold had entered Kaze's voice, something unfamiliar. "What's going on?" he asked, keeping his tone calm.
Kaze's eyes flicked to him, then away again. "Later, kid. This mission… I can't finish it. Not with her kind."
"Her kind?" Ryu's jaw tightened, frustration bubbling. "She's a person. We're escorting her to Kyo. That's the job. What's stopping you?"
Kaze pulled his horse to a halt, dust curling around his boots. The carriage rolled to a stop behind him.
"You don't get it," he said. "Nobles like her—like her family—they're tied to things I left behind. I can't walk into Kyo with that name next to mine."
Aiko leaned out of the carriage window, her voice sharp. "Your name? Who are you to talk like that?"
Ryu dismounted, stepping between them. "Kaze, stop dodging. Since that village, you've been hinting at debts, the Shogun, your past. If you're backing out, say it—but don't pretend it's about her. We're in this together. So talk."
Kaze's silver Aura shimmered faintly before dying back down. He sighed and dismounted slowly, lowering himself onto a flat rock by the roadside. He gestured for Ryu to join him.
Aiko climbed out too, her kimono brushing the dirt, eyes wary but curious. Daigo and Kenta sat quietly under the tree, their wounds bound, but their expressions defiant.
Kaze looked out at the gray sky as he spoke. His voice was low and rough, worn by old pain.
"You want the truth? Fine. Fifteen years ago, during the Red Purge, I served the Shogun. A full samurai—banner, honor, and all. I rode with Taro. He was my friend. We were like brothers."
Ryu stayed silent, eyes on the ground.
"The Shogun ordered us east to crush rebel clans. Said they were plotting against the Empire. We believed him. Me and Taro—we led the charge. Cut down entire villages. Men. Women. Kids. Blood soaked the earth."
Aiko gasped, one hand rising to her mouth.
Kaze's voice hardened. "But it wasn't rebellion. It was greed. The Shogun wanted their rice fields. Their land. We were pawns in a land grab. I saw it too late. Flames, screams, children dying… I couldn't do it anymore. I threw down my banner. Fled. That was the end of my name
Ryu's gut twisted. He thought of Taro, of the way Kaze had avoided his gaze when the name came up.
Kaze stared into the dirt, voice flat now. "Taro stayed. Said duty was bigger than guilt. The Shogun branded me a traitor. Put a bounty on my head. That's why I'm the Silver Blade now. A ghost to nobles like her."
Aiko's voice trembled. "You're that Kaze? The traitor? My father said you were a monster."
Kaze gave a bitter smile, his eyes cold. "Your father's no saint. His hands are soaked too."
"Enough," Ryu said, standing. His voice cut through the rising tension. "You're not that man anymore. You saved me. You trained me. That counts for more than ghosts."
Aiko's jaw tensed, but after a moment, she nodded. "Fine. I won't tell my family who you are. You got me this far. We're even. But I'll be watching."
Kaze looked at Ryu. Gratitude flickered in his eyes. "You're too damn stubborn, kid. Alright. We get her to Kyo, then I disappear. I won't stay where the Shogun's eyes still hunt."
Ryu nodded. "Deal. We drop her off, then we go after the Ox. Together, until then."
But before they could move, Daigo's voice rang out—low and mocking.
"Kaze, the Silver Blade… Should've known. You're the bastard who butchered half the east and ran like a coward."
Kenta grinned through bloody teeth. "And what's this red-and-black Aura brat? Your new dog?"
Kaze's blade was out in a flash, silver light flaring. He stepped forward, voice like ice.
"You talk too much."
The first slash was clean. Daigo's head dropped, body crumpling.
Kenta shouted, struggled—but Kaze's second swing silenced him. Blood soaked the earth. The horses whinnied in panic. Aiko gasped sharply, her hands flying to her mouth.
Ryu didn't flinch. His voice was low. "Was that necessary?"
Kaze sheathed his blade, voice flat. "They knew my face. No point in mercy now. We move."
Aiko climbed into the carriage, silent, pale. Ryu mounted again, the katana at his side heavier than before. Kaze rode in silence. The Ox waited, somewhere out there, and the Spirit Realm stirred.
⸻
Five days later, they stopped at a riverside clearing. The sun hung low, casting gold through the leaves. Ryu stood shirtless by the river, sweat glistening on his skin, his body lean and honed from years in the slums and training under Kaze. His katana moved with precision—no Aura, just clean, deadly skill.
From beneath a willow, Aiko watched. Her breath caught as she traced the lines of his movement, the scars on his chest. She'd seen noble samurai train—refined, practiced, hollow. Ryu was something else. Real.
He paused mid-form and caught her stare.
"You're not subtle," he said, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.
Aiko flushed but didn't look away. "I wasn't hiding. You're… good. Better than most I've seen."
Ryu sheathed the blade and wiped his brow. "Thanks. You always spy on people training?"
She laughed, brushing hair from her face. "Only the interesting ones. Mind if I sit?"
He gestured to a nearby rock. "Go ahead."
She settled beside him, her voice gentler now. "I want to know who you are. Not the sword—you. You're not noble, but you fight better than any I've met."
His grin faded. "Slums of Hikari. No family. Just me and a stick, swinging at anything that moved. Kaze found me, taught me the rest."
She nodded, her voice quiet. "That's hard. I grew up in silk and structure. My father runs our house like a war camp—order, obedience, marriage alliances. I'm just a piece on his board."
"You'd make a terrible pawn," Ryu said, grinning. "Too much fire."
She smiled. "Ever think of teaching a noble girl to fight?"
"Maybe," he said. "If you ditch the silk."
Their laughter was light, carried by the river breeze. Aiko's gaze lingered, warm, searching. Ryu felt it but didn't lean in. The Ox still stood in his path.
From the trees, Kaze's voice rang out. "Ryu! Food's done. Move it!"
Ryu stood, offering her a hand. "Come on. You can judge Kaze's cooking."
She took it, her touch brief but warm. "And you owe me that lesson."
They walked back to camp. The trail ahead still stretched long, but for now, there was warmth in the silence, and a fire waiting beyond the trees.