Chapter 36: Together Again

  The humid air of the jungle clearing, which moments before had echoed with a chaotic symphony of screaming steel, fell into a sudden, shocked silence. The scent of rain-soaked earth and the metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the atmosphere, as if the very wind were holding its breath. Every eye—rebel, assassin, and soldier alike—was fixed on the shallow crater at the center of the battlefield. The only thing that moved was the dust settling around a lone young man who stood there, looking utterly baffled by the tableau of frozen violence he had just landed in.

  He was, to put it mildly, clueless. And in all fairness, it wasn’t his fault. The hermit had dropped him into this tense standoff just moments after he’d barely finished his training.

  With a nonchalance that bordered on the absurd, he began to walk towards Yukari, who stood poised, her silver eyes still scanning the enemy lines with a predator’s focus.

  “Hey,” Raito began, his voice cutting through the unnatural quiet like a pebble dropped into a still lake. “Who are these people, and why are we fighting again?”

  A collective, exasperated sigh seemed to ripple through the rebel line. Yukari’s own shoulders slumped, the adrenaline and tension in her body deflating in the face of her fiancé’s complete lack of context. It was, she thought, the most Raito thing he could have possibly done.

  “Okay,” she said, turning to him, her voice a mixture of profound annoyance and undeniable relief. “Crash course time.” She gestured with a flick of her head towards the battered but resolute fighters behind them. “These are the rebels Rara mentioned. We’re calling ourselves the White Crane Rebellion now. New name, cool right?”

  Kenta, his face streaked with mud and a fresh cut bleeding freely on his cheek, offered a weary but determined, “Hello.”

  Yukari then gestured towards the silent, cloaked figures led by the woman with the cold, calculating eyes. “Those guys are Izumi’s assassins or something.”

  Satsuki simply narrowed her eyes, her poison-tipped dagger still held at the ready.

  “And that massive, scary-looking Sacred guy,” Yukari finished, nodding towards the hulking, one-horned warrior whose presence alone seemed to bend the air around him, “is Ao, one of Imagawa’s captains, along with his soldiers.”

  “Got all that?” she asked, her gaze returning to Raito.

  “Okay, making a mental note,” he said, his expression serious as he processed the information. “I think so. But how did you guys even end up here?”

  “Oh, that,” Yukari said, her voice turning bitter. “We were betrayed. Ambushed.”

  “And we are the ones who ambushed them,” Satsuki added from across the clearing, her voice a cold, sharp blade. “We’re just here to collect their heads.”

  “And we just happened to be patrolling the area, looking for my nemesis,” Ao’s voice boomed, cutting through the renewed tension. He turned his heavy gaze to Raito, a look of genuine confusion on his scarred face. “And you are… who are you supposed to be, farmer boy?”

  “Just a farmer, nothing more,” Raito yelped, intimidated by the sheer presence of the hulking man. “Yeah, you were so right on the scary part,” he whispered to Yukari.

  “Focus, idiot,” Yukari scolded him under her breath.

  “Focus? How could I? Grandpa dropped me here a minute ago with absolutely no idea what was going on,” Raito protested.

  Yukari pinched his cheek, a familiar gesture that was both a reprimand and a strange, comforting anchor in the chaos. “Well, that’s not a good enough reason to completely deflate the tension here. Why did you come from the sky, anyway?”

  The rebels could only watch, their expressions a mixture of awe and bewilderment. Who was this chatty boy, and what had happened to their strict, silent general? They had never seen this side of her, the one that only Raito seemed to bring out.

  “Ow, ow, ow, stop with the pinching,” Raito pleaded. “It’s a long story. Did you know that Grandpa Sun Yoon is actually—”

  “Enough!” Ao’s voice was a thunderous roar that shattered the brief lull. “We are done with this charade. Men, attack them!” he ordered, and the Imagawa soldiers surged forward like a wave of steel.

  “You lot too,” Satsuki commanded, her voice a sharp, venomous hiss. “Make sure we are the only ones standing.”

  “Everyone, brace yourselves! Remember your training!” Yukari’s own voice rang out, clear and commanding, and the all-out brawl finally exploded. The battlefield turned chaotic in an instant. It was a three-way storm of steel and desperation: rebel against Izumi, Izumi against Imagawa, and Imagawa against rebel, all fighting for their own violent purpose.

  The Imagawa soldiers were strong and disciplined, moving with the brute force of a tidal wave. The Izumi assassins, in contrast, were like shadows, their movements a swift, deadly blur of hit-and-run tactics that left confusion and poisoned blades in their wake. The rebels, though lacking the formal training of the other two factions, made up for it with their unorthodox fighting style, their movements unpredictable as they remembered Yukari’s most important rule: never engage in a one-on-one fight.

  Yukari herself was a storm of ice and steel. She moved through the fray like a phantom, creating one shimmering ice spear after another, dismantling anyone who dodged her ranged attacks with the twin daggers she now held in her hands.

  “You move much differently, girl,” Ao boomed, his greatsword swinging at her with enough force to split a tree. “Does leaving that Takayama bastard change you this much?”

  Yukari stepped back, dodging the swing. “Well, something like that,” she said, a small, fierce smile on her face. She froze the ground where Ao’s greatsword had landed, momentarily immobilizing the massive weapon. But he was too strong; with a roar, he shattered the ice with his own brute strength.

  “Ao!” Satsuki screamed, launching a venomous strike from his blind spot. But Ao moved quicker than his stature would suggest, his free hand catching her by the throat.

  Meanwhile, Raito was just… running. He screamed, “Stop, stop, stop!” as he dodged every attack that came his way, not fighting back, a frantic blur of motion in the heart of the battle.

  “Start fighting!” Yukari shouted from across the battlefield, her voice laced with frustration.

  “I can’t! I don’t know who to attack! I haven’t memorized the faces!” he yelped, ducking under a stray arrow. He had not yet shown the results of his training, but at least his dodging ability had improved significantly.

  Yukari could only facepalm and groan. “Okay, the fox mark and the star mark, you can attack them!” she yelled.

  “You sure?” Raito asked, his voice full of an almost comical uncertainty.

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  “Yes! Please just hit somebody!” Yukari groaned again, freezing a soldier who had lunged at her. She looked at her palm for a second, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. Am I getting stronger? she thought. Must be my imagination.

  “Okay, here goes!” Raito said. He drew his heavy wooden sword and, with a determined grunt, smacked someone on the head.

  “Ow!”

  It was Kenta.

  “He is on our side, idiot!” Yukari yelled, her voice a mixture of disbelief and pure exasperation.

  “Sorry!” Raito bowed quickly, before dodging another attack.

  “Wait, is that a wooden sword?” Yukari asked, the question hanging in the air amidst the chaos.

  “Another long story,” Raito called back.

  Casualties from all three sides started to mount as the battle raged on, the humid jungle air now thick with the scent of blood, sweat, and ozone. An Imagawa soldier, seeing Raito as an easy target, scoffed. "A training sword? Is this a joke?" he snarled, lunging forward, his spear aimed directly at the boy’s chest.

  But this time, Raito didn’t just dodge. He parried, the heavy wooden sword meeting the steel spear with a solid, definitive thud. The soldier's arms went numb from the unexpected force, the weighted wood hitting with the impact of a smith's hammer, not a toy. Raito redirected the man's momentum, sending him stumbling sideways, and in a single, fluid strike, smacked him squarely on the temple, incapacitating him.

  “I did it, Grandpa!” he yelled, a triumphant grin on his face. But in the chaotic battlefield, even a short fanfare was not allowed. His display of unexpected skill had turned him from a nuisance into a threat. More soldiers and assassins started moving his way.

  “Why are you guys coming towards me?!” Raito yelped, but his body was firm, his feet planted on the ground. Despite his complaining, he made quick work of the incoming soldiers, each strike precise and heavy, each parry having no wasted movement. It was a testament to the sword style he had been practicing.

  “Whew, not bad,” Yukari said, observing from a distance with a flicker of pride in her eyes.

  “You told me to attack, so I attacked,” Raito smiled back.

  “You!” Ao’s voice was a thunderous roar as he rushed towards Raito, having finally disengaged from his own fight.

  “Yes?” Raito gulped, running away again.

  “Where did you learn that sword style?” Ao asked, still chasing him. The battlefield seemed to turn their attention away from their own fighting for a second to observe the small boy being chased by the hulking Sacred in what looked to be a cat-and-mouse game.

  “I just learned it from a book and an old grandpa! Why are you chasing me?!” Raito screamed.

  “Because, boy, that is the style of someone I despise!” Ao said, his headband slipping to the ground, revealing a scarred stump where a horn used to be. “Are you his successor, boy?”

  “I really don’t know what you are talking about!” Raito yelled, his voice laced with genuine confusion.

  “Whoever taught you that style must be the person who did this to me,” he said, pointing to his stump. “And you will help me get to him.” Ao tried to grab Raito.

  “Raito!” Yukari’s voice cut through the chaos. She had just finished freezing Satsuki from the neck down.

  “You… get back here,” Satsuki said, her voice a muffled, furious whisper.

  “Sorry, lady, I’ll play with you next time,” Yukari saluted, and ran towards Raito. She froze the ground beneath Ao, making him slip. “Now! Everyone, retreat!” she ordered. Using the lapse in the chain of command from the other two factions, she commanded the rebels to fall back. Everyone started helping the injured and ran back to their hideout, leaving the Izumi and Imagawa forces to duke it out amongst themselves.

  “Raghhhhhh!!!” Ao screamed, standing up. “Get back here, boy!!!” he shouted, but most of the rebels had already hidden themselves away in the thicket. For now, this chaos had somehow ended in a draw.

  Some time later, far from the blood-soaked battlefield, the weary remnants of the White Crane Rebellion finally stopped running. The humid air was thick with the groans of the wounded and the ragged breaths of the exhausted. They were alive, but the victory they had grown accustomed to felt a world away, a forgotten dream. Many were being carried on the shoulders of their brethren, their new armor dented and their spirits broken.

  “Kenta, how many?” Yukari asked, her voice flat, devoid of emotion.

  “At least twenty, ma’am,” he replied, his own voice shaking. “I’m not sure. We… we were scattered.”

  "Haru is gone," a young woman named Mako sobbed, clutching the arm of the rebel next to her. "He was right beside me... and then... just gone."

  Yukari smacked the tree next to her, the sharp crack of the impact echoing her own fracturing resolve. Twenty men. Gone. In an army where every single soul was a precious, irreplaceable resource. She contemplated her own failure.

  “We’re sorry,” Kenta bowed, the other survivors following his lead. “We should’ve listened to you. We trusted Jin… we didn’t know any better.”

  “It’s not your fault, Kenta,” Yukari said, her voice a low murmur. “I should’ve found evidence of his allegiance once I felt something was amiss. It’s my fault.” She straightened, the commander returning to her eyes. “Let’s just go back to the hideout for now. We need to tend to the injured.” Kenta saluted, and the weary rebels began their slow, painful trudge through the familiar path back to their camp.

  Raito, who had remained silent, still processing the faces of the people he had fought beside, walked over to Yukari. He said nothing, simply offering her a hug that she accepted immediately, burying her face in his shoulder. She hoped, desperately, that they could finally find some rest after this disaster of a day.

  Yet, the worst was yet to come.

  The hideout was a scene of devastation. The proud banner of the White Crane was torn and smoldering. Tents were ransacked, supplies were scattered, and the faint smell of burning wood and something metallic and wrong hung in the air. Bodies lay lifeless on the ground—rebels and refugees alike. Some were still breathing, but barely. Others were simply… gone.

  “Quick, douse the fire!” Kenta barked, his voice raw with a new wave of horror.

  “Rara! Are you here?!” Yukari shouted, scavenging the place, her heart pounding in her chest. Yet, nothing.

  Then, Kenta saw it. A familiar figure, half-buried under a massive boulder, his right arm and leg crushed beneath the weight. “Master Saburou!” he screamed, rushing to help.

  “Ra…ra…” Saburou whispered, his voice a ragged, bloody thing. “He… took… Ra…ra.”

  “No… Miss Yukari, come here, quick!” Kenta called out. As she arrived, her eyes widened in horror, and Raito could barely watch.

  “Apparently, Jin took her,” Kenta said, his fist clenched. “Jin took Miss Rara away. He must be behind this. Let us chase after them, ma’am,” he pleaded.

  “No!” Yukari’s voice was sharp, a commander’s decision made through a storm of grief. “We need to tend to the injured first, figure out the full story of what happened here. If Jin took her, he needs Rara for something. We should still have time.” She bit her lip, the taste of her own blood a bitter reminder of her failure.

  In Takayama Castle, what was left of Takayama Godai’s chamber was in absolute disarray. “Now, even Min Eun has disappeared. Am I not the chosen one?” he screamed at the sky, absolute fury seeping through his entire being as the stress finally ate away what was left of his sanity.

  In Imagawa Castle, Ao came to Imagawa Joon’s chamber. He dropped the bound and gagged Satsuki to the floor. “Here, a gift,” he said.

  “Oh, this is unusual,” Imagawa Joon said, a greedy glint in his eyes. “Usually, you just kill them on the spot. You look happy.”

  “I am,” Ao laughed. “I finally found a clue to that green-robed hermit. That boy… he will be mine.” He grasped the air, a look of pure, obsessive hunger on his face.

  And in Izumi Castle, Jin knelt before Izumi Hoshiwara, grabbing her hand and kissing it. “I have returned, Lady Izumi,” he said.

  “Great job as always, Jin,” she replied, her voice a silken purr. “I hope those filthy mongrels didn’t taint you too much.”

  “No problem, my lady. I always remember who I serve with my life. And I brought home a new toy,” Jin said.

  “So I’ve heard,” Izumi said, her lips curving into a sinister smile. “Where is she?”

  “With the rest, my lady.”

  “Then she shall make a nice addition for Lord Uroboris,” she said, her laughter echoing in the cold, stone hall. “Ohohohohoho.”

  Rara stirred, then woke up. Around her was a cold, damp darkness. But she could hear sniffling around her. “Where am I?” she asked.

  “The last place you ever want to be, miss,” a voice said. Then, lanterns started to light up. Around her were hundreds of people. Sacreds? Rara thought for a second. But to her shock, she knew. They were the Half-Sacreds of Hanyuun. All of them. As she could only hope, prayed, a miracle would save her, while also wondering what this abomination was that needed all the Half-Sacreds of Hanyuun.

  Night rolled around. Yukari was sitting alone in her tent, an undrunk cup of tea in her hands.

  “Can’t sleep?” Raito’s voice, soft and gentle, came from the entrance.

  Yukari shook her head. “Everything went so wrong, so fast. I’m scared… this reminds me of—”

  “Jinlun?” Raito finished, and she nodded. “Yeah, figures,” he said, sitting down next to her. “But this time… it should be different.”

  Yukari, confused, turned to him. “Why is that?”

  “Because we are together again,” Raito smiled.

  Yukari finally smiled, a small, watery thing, and put her head on his shoulder. “Idiot… then let’s make things right,” she whispered.