Record of Wortenia War: Volume 3

by Ryota Hori

  “So is it possible to summon entire villages even now?”

  Ryoma didn’t recall of hearing about something this unnatural happening. Information traveled fast in his world, and if a whole village disappeared, it would cause quite the riot.

  “Nay, ’tis a thing of the past. The catalysts needed for summoning are precious few and harder to come by nowadays, so even a larger country could only manage a few summonings a year.”

  So that means... I pretty much got the shittiest roll of the dice...

  Only a few summonings a year for a large country... Ryoma didn’t know how many countries there were in this world, but he assumed all of them combined could summon at most two to three hundred people a year. And while Ryoma never saw himself as particularly lucky, if what this old man said was to be believed, he could only rue how truly rotten his luck was.

  After all, there were six billion people living in his world, so the probability of being picked out of all of them was astronomically small.

  “I see... Next question, then. Why are you still assassins?”

  They were summoned five hundred years ago. That was fine. But if they were summoned so long ago, why were they still working in that profession? How does an entire clan operate as assassins to begin with? This was something Ryoma wanted to check.

  “Ours was originally a clan of rappa.”

  Everyone but Ryoma and Sakuya looked at the old man with apprehension. But being Japanese, Ryoma knew the meaning of that word, though it was admittedly an archaic one.

  Rappa, otherwise known as suppa or kusa, were individuals who practiced a certain type of profession. They had many different names, but one stood out among the rest:

  Ninja.

  Yes, if this old man was to be trusted, Sakuya’s clan was a clan of ninjas.

  Oh, I see... I think I understand why their clan stayed as it was in the five hundred years since.

  Sure enough, if a ninja was thrown into a world torn asunder with warfare like this one, they would have no choice but to make use of their skills. They lived through five centuries in this world by polishing their combat skills.

  And since they claimed to be rappa, it meant Sakuya and her clan weren’t just assassins. They were adept at subterfuge, intelligence, disturbance and serving as bodyguards of important persons.

  “Hmm, I understand... By the way, which school were you from?”

  Of the ninja schools, the Iga and Koga were the most famous. Also, the house that controlled Kanto during the warring states period, Houjou, was served by the Fuuma clan, and the Uesugi house was served by Nokizaru. It was said the Togakushi school still remained in America.

  In short, there were quite a few schools, and so Ryoma asked purely out of curiosity. The old man seemed to have no interest in that, however.

  “I do not know. A rappa is a rappa. We steal, rob and kill. That’s all there is to it. Names matter not.”

  The name of their school truly wasn’t all that relevant. It may have been necessary if one were to make their name known throughout the land, but if they intended to only pass their skills down their clan, there truly was no need for a name to distinguish themselves from others.

  “And do you happen to know the name of the region your ancestors lived in?”

  “I do not know of its name, but it is passed down that they lived on a mountain adjacent to a lake.” The old man honestly answered Ryoma’s persistent questioning.

  There was no point in hiding this information.

  A lake... Lake Hiwa, maybe? So they’re probably descendants of the Koga or the Iga...

  Those were ninja villages most people in modern Japan had heard of. It was plausible enough. Or it might be the Lake Suwa, in which case they might be related to the Togakushi school, said to originate in the nearby mount Togakushi of the same name.

  I can’t say I’m not curious, but I should probably leave it at that.

  After all, ninjas were considered to date as far back as the Kamakura period. Some thirty schools were recorded in documents of the time, and if one were to count some uncertain legends that popped up over the years, there had been well over seventy schools.

  Their history was shrouded in darkness. And indeed, the mention of them tickled at one’s adventurous spirit, to say nothing of Ryoma’s personal interest in history. He would have loved to go deeper into the subject, but now wasn’t the time.

  “Very well... One last question, then.” Ryoma said. “Earlier, you answered my question with ‘this is our clan’s fate’... What did you mean by that?”

  The answer to this final question was one he couldn’t handily predict. Japanese ninja lived in their particular lands, and either sought out employers or work in the service of a particular master. There were likely plenty of people in power who would kill to have them in their employ. But regardless of that, they wandered without settling for five centuries.

  There had to have been some particular reason for that. And Ryoma’s question was an understandable one. He didn’t get to have it answered, though.

  “Mm. I cannot share that information with an outsider.” The old man’s face contorted significantly. “It touches on our clan’s rules, you see.”

  “I understand. My apologies for asking, then.” Ryoma bowed his head apologetically.

  “Oh... Are you not interested in knowing, though?”

  Ryoma gave up so easily that the old man instead asked him curiously.

  “I’ll pass. It’s not in my interest to pry into other people’s secrets... Besides, they say curiosity killed the cat.”

  It was natural instinct for one to harbor interest in other people’s secrets, and the more closely guarded a secret was, the more it piqued one’s curiosity.

  But secrets had reasons to be kept hidden, and what may be of little consequence for a stranger could mean the world to those involved.

  Having people come after my life because I know too much would be no joke...

  Life in this world was already worth little as it was. Ryoma’s point of view was that there was no need to put oneself in more risk than required.

  “That’s quite the restraint for one so young... You’ve certainly grasped my interest! My name is Genou. Genou Igasaki. I look forward to a prolonged friendship.”

  “Prolonged...?” Ryoma was taken aback by his words.

  This was all too sudden.

  “Drop the pretense. You saved Sakuya because you wanted to make her into your rappa, did you not? To that end, as her grandfather, I shall serve you alongside her!”

  Genou smirked as if he had just done Ryoma a favor. He had such a scowl until now that when he smiled, he looked like an amicable old man.

  “Grandfather...?” Sakuya asked fearfully.

  “What is it, Sakuya? Don’t tell me you’re dissatisfied with this...? Having failed your task, you should be dead right now. But Master Mikoshiba here saved your life. Letting this one use you is preferable, no?”

  Genou started referring to Ryoma as “Master Mikoshiba.” A definite step up from how he’d called him “you” or “whelp.” It seemed Genou was resolved to serve Ryoma.

  “Ah... Well... Yes.” Realizing Genou had come to a decision, Sakuya was left with no choice but to nod.

  “I’m sure you don’t mind, yes, Master Mikoshiba?”

  Genou’s question made Ryoma sink into thought. True, he intended to help her if she was Japanese, and he did consider putting her skills as an assassin to use, but the conversation spiraled out of control with Genou’s sudden appearance.

  What the hell’s going on here?

  This was a godsend from Ryoma’s perspective. Apart from Sara and Laura, he was in a convenient alliance at best with everyone else. Lione and Boltz were mercenaries that he was able to trust on a personal level, but there was no telling when the knights could possibly betray him.

  They only obeyed Ryoma’s orders because Princess Lupis had acknowledged him as commander. If Princess Lupis were to decide to aba
ndon Ryoma instead, the knights would immediately ignore his orders.

  In that regard, having capable comrades on his side was something he was thankful for. Except...

  This is going too fast... These two showed up to kill me. But... They’re certainly worth using. If I can really get them on my side, it’d be really convenient... The only question is, what do they get out of asking me for this? But if they’re really thinking of serving me...

  Ryoma fixed his gaze on Genou. He was in dire need of useful pawns.

  I really need people who can handle intelligence... But how do I confirm if the information they bring me is true...? No... I guess that depends on my judgment...

  “Fine,” Ryoma concluded.

  At the end of the day, trusting someone always requires taking something of a gamble.

  “In that case, I and my granddaughter, Sakuya, will be entering your service as of today, Master Mikoshiba... Nay, milord.”

  Genou urged Sakuya to bow her head to Ryoma.

  “Grandfather! What were you thinking?!” Sakuya finally let out her pent-up frustrations, lashing out at Genou.

  They were in a forest a short distance away from the moat, and Sakuya and Genou were the only ones in the vicinity. The only witness of their exchange was the moon floating in the night sky.

  “What are you so worked up over, girl?”

  Genou’s calm voice only served to irritate Sakuya further.

  “What, you ask...? Do you seriously intend to serve that man?!”

  “Are you dissatisfied?” Genou casually disregarded Sakuya’s outburst.

  “How would I not be?! To begin with, how would I simply accept forfeiting my original task and serving my assassination target?!” Complaints left Sakuya’s lips one after another. “What were you even doing there? I was the one specified for this job, so why were you following me?!”

  She was merely eighteen years of age, but was still considered very capable among the younger members of the clan. She wasn’t one to let it go to her head, but she did take pride in her assassin’s skills.

  But not only did she fail at her task, she was captured as well. That was irritating in and of itself, but having her grandfather— one of the clan’s elders— appear made it all the more humiliating.

  As one of the elders, Genou wasn’t one for active duty, and so the fact he was out there meant the elders doubted Sakuya’s skills. Sakuya thought her abilities were acknowledged, which only made her feel more humiliated.

  To top it all off, her grandfather had one-sidedly decided they would serve Ryoma Mikoshiba. Any expectation that she wouldn’t be upset would be exaggerated.

  But in her anger, Sakuya had forgotten that despite their blood connection, there was a great gap in social status between her and Genou. She could one day well inherit his position as an elder, but right now, she was nothing more than a skilled lower-class ninja. She must have been quite agitated to hurl so many complaints at a venerated elder.

  This little fool is still lacking when it comes to keeping her heart in check... To lose her temper over this... Genou whispered in his heart, eyeing Sakuya coldly as her anger lingered. But so be it. How long it has been since our clan found a prospective worthy master to serve? We mustn’t let this chance pass us by...

  Normally, he wasn’t one to stand for Sakuya to speak to him like this, which only went to show how elated he was. Enough so to not kill Sakuya where she stood.

  “Who do you think you’re talking to, girl?” The air chilled with murderous intent.

  Genou’s eyes narrowed like threads, glaring at Sakuya’s face. The girl broke into a cold, chilling sweat and fell to her knees.

  He’s going to kill me... Ah! What have I... What did I just...?

  Realizing she had been speaking above her place, Sakuya’s heart froze at once. The elders weren’t simply a gathering of old men and women. True, they didn’t take assassination requests, but this didn’t stand as proof of their lack of skill or weakness.

  They had spent the majority of their life engaging in dirty work, and were graced with trueborn talent that brought them to the age of sixty. Skilled as she was, a mere eighteen-year-old like Sakuya couldn’t hope to compare to them for the sheer amount of times they’d experienced battles to the death.

  The murderous intent radiating from her grandfather dragged Sakuya back to reality.

  “I-I apologize. I was out of line, speaking in that manner,” Sakuya just barely managed to squeeze out those words of apology.

  “It is fine...” Genou looked away from his granddaughter, who groveled at his feet. “I understand your reasoning. True enough, having accepted a job, you have a responsibility to see it through... But killing that man would be a waste.”

  “You think he’s worth using...?” Sakuya asked timidly. “But what of the contract...?”

  Contracts were especially binding for assassins. An untrustworthy assassin would never be hired, especially one that elected to serve their assassination target. It could have implications on the clan’s livelihood and survival.

  Genou, however, scoffed at Sakuya’s objection.

  “A trifling matter. Contracts are for peace of mind and nothing more! You are well aware of the humiliation our clan has been subjected to! Do you truly believe that noble Gelhart will give us the reward we were promised?”

  Genou’s words left Sakuya speechless. Some people would shower them with promises when signing the contract, only to skimp out on the payment once the job was done. The truly vile sent soldiers to eliminate them instead. Sakuya had been betrayed by clients several times in the past already.

  And Duke Gelhart was infamous for his stinginess. The amount he specified this time was unusually high, but whether he would actually pay that much was a different matter altogether.

  “But won’t that reduce the number of clients we’ll receive in the future...?”

  “I do not mind. Not being able to work in this country is hardly an issue. We are vagabonds, when all is said and done. We need simply work in another country. I’m sure there’s no shortage of lands that would desire our services. But what interests me much more is that man... He may very well be...”

  Genou’s words trailed off.

  I mustn’t tell Sakuya yet... And I must report this to the elder council... But that man. Were he simply a soft-hearted man, he’d have been a disappointment. But the skill I sensed from him... If I am not mistaken, our days of wandering may be at an end.

  Genou whispered in his heart, recalling the events of the day. When Sakuya was captured, he was resolved to see his granddaughter’s death.

  Even among the clan, Sakuya was especially skilled, and was given considerable training. The elder council did not consider her to have simply been a ninja obeying orders. And so they dispatched her grandfather, Genou, to serve as insurance.

  He was to confirm Sakuya’s skills, and if she failed in her attempt, Genou was to take responsibility for the situation with his own two hands.

  But even regardless of a grandfather’s biased eyes, Sakuya’s skills were impressive. Her nimbleness, the way she cloaked her presence, her resolve. They were all more than up to the highest standards.

  But she was up against the wrong person.

  Or rather, up against the worst possible match. Thanks to his long training, Genou’s night vision was superior to Sakuya’s, and having cut a peephole at the top of the tent, he was able to see the full details of Ryoma’s plot.

  He placed a corpse clad in armor in his bed, and stood like a model clad in armor himself...

  Ryoma sat at the corner of the tent, posing as a figurehead that had armor placed on it. That alone was more than enough to fool any intruders to the tent without any illumination.

  Leaving the armored corpse on the bed, he awaited Sakuya’s arrival. Sakuya would never suspect someone would go to sleep in bed still wearing their armor, causing a momentary gap in her caution when the blade was deflected. And it was all too easy for Ryoma Miko
shiba to strike at the weak point of a staggered, surprised person.

  Genou could only admire Ryoma’s ploy.

  “So, grandfather... Why did you choose to serve that man?” Sakuya called out to Genou, who had sunk into silent contemplation.

  This was one thing Sakuya wanted explained to her, even if it meant spurring the old man’s anger.

  “I suspect our clan’s vagabond ways may come to an end soon.”

  “Huh?!” Sakuya couldn’t suppress her surprise at Genou’s words.

  Their clan had wandered this world for five hundred long years. And the old man just said that may come to an end.

  “What do you mean by that...?”

  “You have no need to know yet... It is only in the realm of possibility right now. Now then, are you done with your questions? Our Lord has given us two days. We won’t make it if we dawdle much further.”

  Genou concluded his words, and turned around, heading deeper into the forest.

  Their clan was currently secretly residing in the forest twenty kilometers north of Heraklion. Ryoma only gave them a two-day time period. Even with their tempered physical conditions, it was only barely enough time to make a round trip and report to the elder council.

  “Yes, grandfather,” Sakuya nodded before taking off after Genou.

  “Just what is the meaning of this, Genou?” one of the elders raised his voice in a shout. “Was it not your task to carry on Sakuya’s task should she fail?! To cancel it and swear to serve your assassination target is unheard of!”

  Their anger was not unjustified. Even Sakuya, who sat across from her grandfather, didn’t quite fathom what the old man was thinking.

  “W-Well...” Sakuya herself wanted to ask the same question.

  If nothing else, she had no intent on giving up on her contract, but had no choice but to obey her grandfather, who was also one of the elders. Sakuya parted her lips to explain, but another elder cut into her words.

  “Silence. No one asked you... This all happened because you failed to carry out your duties! You were supposedly skilled among the lower-ranking ninjas, but it seems our expectations were misplaced. And you have the audacity to return to us alive? By whose permission are you even present here to begin with?!”