"Rivals?"
Mikan's eyebrow rose.
Yoshimoto Seishin nodded as though he'd said something perfectly ordinary. "Apparently."
That answer wasn't what she expected.
Mikan studied the man standing in front of her a little more carefully. He was easily one of the largest men in the courtyard, tall enough that most Martial Apprentices barely reached his shoulders, yet nothing about his posture carried the stiffness or arrogance she had come to associate with Sekigaharan nobility. His shoulders were relaxed, his hands hung loosely at his sides, and the smile on his face seemed entirely genuine.
If anything, he looked mildly embarrassed.
"Apparently?" Mikan repeated.
Yoshimoto sighed. "Did you not know about the wager?"
"Between Master Seishin and Master Iaiashin?"
"With my grandmother, yes."
Mikan blinked.
Well.
That explained some things.
She had only heard of Master Seishin, Matriarch of the Shimazu clan briefly. They say the woman was loud, proud, competitive, and seemingly incapable of being in the same room as Master Iaiashin without turning something into a contest.
"Master Iaiashin told me of their wager." Mikan replied coldly.
"Well, my Grandmother made sure to explain it to me as well. Several times, actually," Yoshimoto continued. "In considerable detail."
Mikan's lips twitched. "Why, do you forget so easily?"
Yoshimoto stared at her for a moment.
Then his smile widened.
"Ha, I wish."
A snort escaped Mikan before she could stop it.
One of the Kinzoku Apprentices standing nearby looked between them with visible confusion, apparently having expected the meeting between the heirs of Kinzoku and Shimazu to involve considerably more hostility.
Mikan couldn't exactly blame him.
"So," she said, folding her arms, "your grandmother sent you here to beat me?"
"Among other things."
"How flattering."
"Don't take it personally. I'm also supposed to outperform all of Kinzoku generally, secure more territory, accumulate more military merit, prove the superiority of the Shimazu clan, uphold several centuries of family honor, and return home without embarrassing anyone."
Mikan stared.
Yoshimoto rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"I may have forgotten something, I forget so easily."
This time Mikan actually laughed.
It was brief, but genuine.
"You're funny. That sounds exhausting."
"I am, and you have no idea." Yoshimoto sighed dramatically.
She had heard plenty about Clan Shimazu over the years, especially recently. Masters of ranged techniques, they were powerful, prestigious, and currently one of the clans benefiting most from Kinzoku's decline. Their matriarch certainly hadn't hesitated to rub that fact in Iaiashin's face.
Yet Yoshimoto himself didn't seem particularly interested in any of that.
If anything, he seemed amused by it.
"So you really don't care about the wager?" Mikan asked.
"Oh, I care."
There was an immediate confidence to his answer.
Mikan raised an eyebrow.
Yoshimoto grinned.
"I intend to win."
There it was.
"Good." Mikan snorted. "I won't make it easy for you."
Yoshimoto smiled, but then his face hardened as his humorous tone disappeared as he looked around.
"I'll be honest with you..." Yoshimoto rubbed the back of his neck. "If someone wanted to ensure Kinzoku accumulated as little military merit as possible while technically giving you an important assignment, putting your strongest remaining fighters behind wall to defend would be a fairly effective way to accomplish it."
Mikan's eye twitched.
The Kinzoku Apprentices behind her immediately started muttering.
"Wait... is that why we're one defense?"
"Those bastards..."
"Of course."
"I fucking knew it."
Mikan's arms slowly unfolded.
"Your doing?"
Yoshimoto raised both hands.
"Not me."
"Shimazu?"
"I don't know."
"Your grandmother?"
"I would like to survive long enough to have children someday, so I will not be answering that question."
Mikan glared at him.
Yoshimoto maintained an impressively innocent expression.
Then, after a moment, he sighed.
"For what it's worth, I don't approve."
That caught her attention.
Yoshimoto's gaze shifted toward the clan banners hanging above the fortress. "We're sharing a fortified base with clans that spend half their time insulting one another while foreign Martial Artists are trying to kill all of us. There are Britannians west of us, Kandrians east of us, Nochus forces wandering around with those ridiculous weaponry, and who knows what else is deeper inside the core of the dungeon."
He looked back at her.
"I'd rather Sekigahara's strongest Apprentices actually fight."
Mikan's irritation eased slightly.
"Oni. Shinken. Shimazu. Kaze. Kinzoku." Yoshimoto shrugged. "We all fight and die same at war."
Silence.
Several Apprentices stared at him.
Yoshimoto's smile slowly disappeared.
"...That sounded worse out loud."
Mikan stared.
"...Cringe."
"Cringe? What? My apologies."
Someone behind her coughed suspiciously into his fist.
Mikan pressed her lips together.
She lasted perhaps three seconds.
"Pfft."
Yoshimoto looked relieved.
Mikan laughed, shaking her head while several of the Kinzoku fighters finally gave up pretending and joined her.
Mikan's laughter gradually faded, though a smile remained on her face.
Yeah.
She liked him.
That was mildly inconvenient.
Mikan's eyes drifted over his enormous frame again. She had sensed that he was powerful almost immediately, but now that she was standing close to him, the impression was even stronger. There was no oppressive aura leaking from him, nothing like the overwhelming presence her brother Merun had, yet something about Yoshimoto felt extraordinarily solid.
Stable.
Heavy.
He stood there casually, but Mikan's instincts told her fighting him would be extremely difficult.
"How powerful are you?"
"Grade Ten."
Mikan's eyes narrowed, it seems the other clan used the power grading system that even other countries like Kandria used.
Even under Kandria's newer, stricter standards, Grade 10 represented the absolute upper reaches of the Apprentice Realm.
An apex!
"So you're one of Sekigahara's strongest."
"One of them."
Mikan smirked. "What kind of Martial Art?"
Yoshimoto raised an eyebrow. "Trying to gather information on your rival already?"
"Obviously."
"How shameless."
"You're the one who walked over and introduced yourself, Lord Yoshimoto."
"Hmm... Fair."
He lifted one hand.
Then inhaled.
Mikan's expression immediately changed.
The breath wasn't particularly loud, yet his entire body seemed to participate in it. His chest expanded while his shoulder, elbow, wrist, and fingers shifted in a smooth synchronized motion. Air began curling around his palm, gathering into a single point as more and more of the atmosphere was compressed into a space far smaller than it should have been able to occupy.
Within seconds, a transparent sphere hovered above his hand.
Mikan leaned forward slightly.
The fortress behind it looked distorted.
Light passing through the sphere bent strangely, almost like she was looking through a droplet of water.
"...Wind?"
"Atmospheric compression."
"Wind."
"It's significantly more complicated than that."
"So wind."
Yoshimoto stared at her.
Mikan stared back.
He gave up. "...Wind."
Mikan grinned.
Then the fortress screamed.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
The deep blast of a war horn rolled across the base.
Every trace of humor vanished from Yoshimoto's face.
A second horn followed almost immediately.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
The transformation around them was instantaneous.
Martial Apprentices who had been eating or talking rose and gathered toward the gate. Soldiers abandoned crates and rushed toward assigned positions while officers began shouting across the courtyards. Heavy footsteps thundered along the wall above them as artillery crews scrambled toward their cannons, and the dormant steam engines positioned around the fortress roared awake one after another.
"CONTACT EAST!"
"ALL EASTERN BATTERIES TO READINESS!"
"INTERCEPTION UNITS, REPORT TO MUSTER!"
Mikan's eyes sharpened.
An officer rushed across the courtyard toward Yoshimoto.
"Lord Yoshimoto!"
"What happened?"
"Reconnaissance has confirmed a Kandrian strike force approaching from the east. Multiple high-grade Apprentice signatures. Siege vehicles following behind them."
"Numbers?"
"Still being confirmed."
"Distance?"
"Outside our territorial boundary, but approaching quickly."
Yoshimoto nodded once.
"Then we meet them outside."
The officer immediately turned.
"INTERCEPTION FORCE, EASTERN GATE!"
Across the fortress, powerful presences began converging.
Mikan felt her blood stir as Martial Apprentices poured from barracks, training grounds, supply depots, and watch stations. Unlike the disorganized warparties she had seen earlier in the expedition, there was no confusion here. Everyone knew where to go, and within minutes a formidable force had begun gathering near the eastern gate.
Every single person was nearly just as powerful as her.
Mikan stepped forward.
"I'm coming."
"No."
She stopped.
The officer hadn't even hesitated.
Mikan slowly turned toward him.
"...Excuse me?"
"Kinzoku forces remain assigned to fortress defense on the western gate."
"I'm a peak Martial Apprentice."
"I'm aware, Lady Furutsu."
"Then why the hell am I standing behind the furthest wall while you're sending people out?"
The officer's jaw tightened.
"Orders."
Mikan stared at him.
For a moment, she seriously considered testing how much trouble punching an officer would cause.
Probably a lot, unfortunately.
Beside her, Yoshimoto exhaled slowly through his nose.
Mikan glanced at him as he looked genuinely annoyed.
"How many are being dispatched?" Yoshimoto asked.
"Sixty-three."
Yoshimoto glanced toward Mikan.
Then he turned back toward the officer.
"Can Kinzoku be added to the interception force?"
"No, Lord Yoshimoto."
"Under whose authority?"
"Ehem... strategic command."
"Can the assignment be amended?"
"Not without authorization... sir."
Yoshimoto's jaw shifted slightly as he turned to walk toward the Eastern gate.
"When I return, I'll find out exactly why Kinzoku was given this assignment." He warned the Officer as the man hurriedly rushed away.
She raised an eyebrow as she watched the man quickly disappear inside the buildings.
"And then?"
"Then we fix it."
"You'd do that?"
Yoshimoto looked almost offended.
"I told you. I intend to win."
Mikan stared at him as his grin returned.
"Fair and square."
A surprised laugh escaped her.
"You're awfully confident."
"Of course."
"You haven't even seen me fight."
"Neither have you seen me fight."
"I saw your little wind ball."
Yoshimoto's eyebrow twitched.
"Atmospheric. Compression."
"Wind ball."
Mikan grinned.
Another horn echoed across the fortress as Yoshimoto looked toward the eastern gate where all the sixty-three intercepting forced were nearly assembled.
He tightened the belt around his purple dougi.
Mikan watched him go for several steps before calling after him.
"Yoshimoto!"
He looked over his shoulder.
"Try not to get your ass kicked before our fight!"
Several nearby Martial Apprentices turned toward her.
Yoshimoto stared as a broad grin spread across his face.
"Impossible."
Mikan laughed again as he disappeared into the crowd.
Her smile lasted until she looked at the eastern gate.
Then it faded.
Sixty-three of Sekigahara's most powerful Martial Apprentices stood ready to leave.
And she wasn't one of them.
Mikan's hands slowly curled into fists.
She knew the assignment wasn't a judgment of her strength. Yoshimoto had practically confirmed that. This was politics. Petty clan bullshit being dragged into an international campaign by people who couldn't survive a few weeks without trying to screw one another over.
Knowing that didn't make it sting any less.
Mikan glanced around at the fortress, at the hundreds of Martial Artists moving with purpose while she stood beneath a wall thick enough to endure attacks from people in her own Realm.
"...Dammit."
Maybe that was what bothered her most.
Yesterday she had nearly died.
Nochus bullets had ripped through her leg. Her warparty had been scattered. Other Sekigaharans had needed to rescue them before she lost consciousness.
Now she'd met someone around her own generation who stood comfortably among Sekigahara's absolute best, only to learn that she wasn't even going to be given the opportunity to compete against him.
Politics or not...
She hated feeling weak.
I need more power.
Mikan looked down at her hand.
Ki.
Merun had started teaching the family before they left.
Apart from levitation, there hadn't been enough time to accomplish much, but she could at least recognize the sensation now. Merun described Ki as something every living creature possessed, an energy generated within the body itself. They weren't creating anything new. They were learning to notice something that had always been there.
Which sounded wonderfully simple when explained by someone who could casually turn it into blasts and projectiles.
Mikan closed her eyes.
She heard the distant groaning of the eastern gate beginning to open.
She breathed slowly and looked inward.
At first, there was only the familiar awareness of her own body: heartbeat, breathing, muscles, balance, the faint almost imaginary soreness in her right leg.
Then she found something else.
Warmth.
Mikan's brow tightened.
She found it again!
It was much fainter than what she had felt whenever Merun demonstrated Ki, but unmistakable now that she knew what she was looking for. A subtle current seemed to exist beneath everything else, flowing throughout her body in ways she couldn't properly describe.
She reached for it, guiding that tiny current upward.
Through her chest, across her shoulders, and toward her head.
She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing. Merun had warned them repeatedly not to throw Ki around without understanding it, which was probably sensible advice.
But Mikan wasn't trying to throw anything.
She just wanted...
More.
More strength.
More awareness.
More control.
Something.
When the warmth reached her head, Mikan's eyes snapped fully open.
There was no sudden explosion of light or ridiculous transformation. The fortress looked exactly as it had seconds ago.
But she noticed more of it as the world sharpened.
Her eyes focused on a soldier hauling ammunition nearly a hundred meters away, and she could suddenly make out the individual clasps securing the crate against his back. Conversations that had previously blended into meaningless background noise separated enough for her to distinguish individual voices. She smelled oil from the artillery platforms, blood from the infirmary behind her, smoke from the kitchens—
Mikan froze.
"...What?"
Her heartbeat accelerated.
She turned her head slowly.
This wasn't like her martial observational technique, Hawk Sight.
It felt different.
Hawk Sight relied on training, observation, and the heightened perception she had developed through her Martial Art. This felt as though her body itself had simply become better at receiving information.
Mikan looked toward the eastern gate, where the sixty-three Martial Apprentices were beginning to move.
Then she felt something else.
Something she hadn't been looking for.
Ki?!
Mikan's eyes narrowed.
Now that she was circulating her own, she could faintly perceive traces of it from the people around her. They weren't clear signatures. They looked like tiny flames scattered throughout the fortress.
Hundreds of them.
Soldiers, Engineers, Martial Apprentices, Living things.
Mikan slowly turned as she explored the unfamiliar sensation.
Then—
Her entire body stiffened.
Among all those tiny flames...
There was a noticeably larger flame.
Her head snapped toward the eastern courtyard.
"What the..."
Whatever she was sensing completely dwarfed the faint flames surrounding it.
Then she saw him.
A huge man walked near the rear of the departing formation.
Dark iron plates covered his entire body. A heavy kabuto helmet concealed his face, and an enormous greatsword rested across his back as though the absurd weapon weighed nothing.
Mikan stopped breathing.
Ki?
An absurd amount of Ki?
Mikan's mouth slowly opened.
"...There's no way."
The armored giant continued walking.
Then, perhaps sensing something, his helmet shifted.
Just slightly.
In her direction.
Mikan's eyes narrowed.
The helmet immediately turned away as the man quickly ran outside the gate.
"...Right?"
Mikan stared.
Her eyebrow twitched.
"It was you the whole time, you fucking brat!"