Rebirth of the Sword Saint: A Reincarnation Epic Fantasy Saga

by DB King

  Yojimbo seemed to seriously consider Jin’s offer for a moment, before leaning further forward. “That’s all well and good, but I need something concrete – something that’ll cement our little deal. See, the problem right now is that I don’t know or trust you; as far as I’m concerned, you’re just a very talented young mage with the balls to actually come in here and offer this deal. I respect you for that – truly, but pretty words won’t be enough to sway my boys… or me.”

  Jin smiled. “How about this? You cease all activity for the next two months, and I’ll give you twenty sacks of white rice. After that period of time, we’ll discuss my offer again. However, if you accept the rice and continue to attack merchants on their way to Hirata, I’ll kill every one of you and skewer your flayed bodies with bamboo; do you understand?”

  Yojimbo grinned, leaned back, and raised both hands up in mock-surrender. While Jin’s threat was absolutely meant to be taken seriously, as he’d done far worse things in his previous life than simply shaving off people’s skins and putting them on sticks for all to see, he really had to give this man some credit; though, it was just as likely that Yojimbo didn’t take him as seriously as he should have due to him being a nine-year old and all.

  Yojimbo said, “Whatever spell you’re using to make yourself look like a child is astounding; I can’t see through your illusion at all. In any case, once we receive that offer of rice from you, we’ll cease our operations in this area. After that, we may talk further business.”

  Jin nodded; it was an acceptable exchange in his mind, at least. If our places had been reversed, I’d do something similar, though I’d probably be a little less daring; still, this is a paltry sum to acquire his services. Hirata’s already produced a surplus of white rice that’ll go to waste if we simply don’t give it away…

  However, there was something else he’d want to take back to Hirata for his uncle’s sake. Jin’s mind briefly wandered over the merchants that’d demanded his uncle’s military might in dealing with the same band of bandits he was now negotiating with and how much they’d likely reward him for returning one of their own. They were a tightly knit group the merchant’s guild. “If you release the merchant to me, I’ll be sure to reward you with something worth your while – not gold, however, since you really have no need for such baubles, yes?”

  Yojimbo gestured around him, indicating at the growing mounds of gold and jewels in his tent. “They’re pretty to look at, but I have no interest in pretty things; in exchange for the merchant’s life, I’ll take five pots of your finest rice wine.”

  “I’m assuming you’ll want the items before you release him to me?” Jin asked.

  Yojimbo, however, shook his head, humming good-naturedly. “No, consider this my stake, my investment, my risk; I’ll give him to you now and, if you are true to your word, the rice wine will be delivered alongside the rice, yes?”

  Jin eyed the man for a moment. Despite the redness on his cheeks from the consumption of sake, Yojimbo was not a fool or an idiot – his brain remained rational and his eyes stayed sharp. This move of his was way too risky for Jin’s liking, but – then again – they couldn’t be exactly the same, could they? Yojimbo, it seemed, was fond of taking risks and leaps to achieve his goals. Jin fancied himself a little more modest in his appetite for such things, though they were fun every once in a while.

  Jin nodded. “Very well, I’ll be sure not to disappoint, though you’ll have to understand that I – myself – will not be personally dropping off the rice and the wine. I’ll have a wagon be sent in two days and leave it on the exact spot you raided that last merchant caravan.”

  Jin had arrived, expecting to meet another barbarian warlord-wannabe; instead, he was met by someone whose mind closely matched his own – a cold and calculating intelligence that weaved plans within plans within plans, almost endlessly. Yojimbo was not to be trusted, and he knew the man likely would not trust him as well, but they had struck something akin to an accord – for now, at least, Jin wouldn’t slaughter the bandit lord and his men, if only to sate his curiosity on the man’s schemes.

  Jin leaned back and spoke, “How come someone of your intelligence is leading this… ragged band of men? You would’ve done well as an information broker or as a spy, or even just a merchant; why this?”

  Yojimbo hummed and pointed at his own face. “Do I not look foreign to your eyes?”

  Jin peered closer for a moment, betrayed by the vastness of his own mind. Of course, Yojimbo’s features were not of the people of Moyatani; his cheeks were rounder and lower, face having robust formations as opposed to the smooth features of the common folk. His eyes were also sleeker – his eyelids thicker. In his previous world, Yojimbo would not have looked out of place among the Horse Lords of the Great Steppe Sea. “Now that you’ve mentioned it; you’ve either got a nasty allergic reaction to something, or you’re definitely foreign. Considering your words, I’m assuming it’s the latter, yes?”

  The Murasaki Library never mentioned other nations; the books spoke as though Moyatani was the only nation that existed in the world. At the time, Jin hadn’t bothered looking into it too much, since it hardly mattered to him. Now, however, the reality of it was dawning on him. Moyatani did not stand alone in the world; there were other nations out there – other groups of men and women, forging their own kingdoms in the world.

  “Though the people of Moyatani know almost nothing beyond their little island nation, the rest of the world is quite aware of this Shogunate’s existence,” Yojimbo elaborated further. “I was but a humble merchant, sent by the Great Lord of the Eternal Blue Sky to sell our goods and gather information about your people’s culture. However, some bastard lord and his son saw fit to strip me of my goods and my ship, leaving me with nothing.”

  Jin nodded. The banditry made a lot more sense now that Yojimbo had told a part of his tale. Moyatani had no shortage of dishonorable, foolish, and corrupt lords, who took advantage of anyone and anything they believed to be under their domain.

  Jin leaned forward, “May I know the name of your homeland?”

  Yojimbo grinned. “I hail from the land of Timuria, home of the Eternal Horde and the Lords of the Blue Sky. It is the birthplace of the great Azure Khanate, an empire that stretches from one end of the world to another. The island nation of Moyatani is but a tiny spot on the map when compared to the vastness of the Azure Khanate.”

  Jin nodded, wondering why he wasn’t born in such a large empire instead; it would have been more challenging and more fun if that was the case. A part of him sorely missed the intricacies of courtly intrigue and cloaks and daggers in the darkness.

  Yojimbo continued, “Take heed, mage, the Great Lord of the Eternal Blue Sky looms over the horizon. In time, not today or tomorrow or the day after that, but soon, he will send armies, instead of merchants. And the petty squabbles of this little island will be drowned in a tide of horses.”

  Jin couldn’t help but feel excited for what was to come.

  For now, however, they’d settle their business. “I see – whatever the case for the future, I hope you and I will have a fruitful partnership.”

  “Likewise, mage… likewise.”

  Chapter 19

  “You’ve dealt with the bandits?” Jin’s uncle, Arima asked, leaning slightly forward from his seat, but no more than that lest he fall over due to a lack of bodily control. Honestly, the only reason Jin hadn’t totally usurped the man’s position was because of his generosity and good-naturedness. In a world designed to grind a man down to his bones, leaving nothing but hate and contempt, Toyotoda Arima remained cheerful and hopeful – if only a little ignorant, willfully or otherwise.

  Jin bowed. “I have dealt with them in my own way; they won’t be bothering any passing merchants any time soon.”

  Arima nodded, but made no further comments or asked any more questions. To him, the deed was done and that was the end of that. He’d make no query as to how it was done or how Jin was able to
do it in only a few hours, no. Arima was content with things as they were as long as it didn’t bother him. His uncle’s voice seemed oddly reserved and pensive as he spoke, “Very well, dear nephew, I shall trust you on that matter as I have trusted you in all others. Now….”

  Jin sat on the seat across him. Ebisu would wake up within the next ten minutes and be escorted by the servants down to the living room, where Jin and his uncle now sat, facing each other. Breakfast had yet to be served. He had come earlier than he’d expected. Arima reached forward, grabbed a steaming cup of tea from the table, and took a shaky sip.

  Jin raised an eyebrow. Arima’s hands were shaking. It took quite a bit of the man’s focus to ensure his tea didn’t spill all over the place and, even then, he was failing. Sighing, Jin leaned forward and spoke, “Is there something troubling you, uncle?”

  Judging by the man’s expression, whatever ailed him likely had something to do with the taxes or the mines – those were the only two things that mostly affected Arima’s emotional wellbeing, aside from any negative news about Ebisu, which was unlikely. Then again, it could have been something veering toward the more political side of things. While Hirata village was too small and too remote to be a part of the great game of the great lords, Toyotoda Arima was still of noble blood and could – and likely did – put a hand on the proverbial table. Whatever the case, Jin would do his best to resolve the issue – one way or another.

  Solving someone else’s problems was surprisingly refreshing; it gave his vengeance some pause and his mind and body some rest.

  Of course, Jin would never be content with only having the resources of this meager village. No matter how much he’d do to develop it, there wouldn’t be any real progress in Hirata for at least another two decades or so. No, he wanted more. The lands of those who wronged his family would do nicely; after that, he might just take over the rest of Moyatani and establish himself upon the highest throne once more. Then again… the world is a much bigger place than I’ve previously been led to believe.

  Shaking his head, Jin turned his attention back to his rapidly paling uncle.

  Arima put down the teacup and absently laid a hand to massage his forehead. “I have received… grave news this morning, dear nephew.”

  Jin waited for his uncle to continue, staying deathly quiet. The older man avoided his gaze, eyes seemingly all over the place as cold sweat ran down the side of his face. A few broken words emerged from his lips, but nothing concrete to form anything resembling a sentence. Jin, however, was content to wait; they had all morning to deal with whatever was messing with his uncle’s brain and breakfast was yet to be served. From the smell coming from the kitchens, the servants had cooked up a lovely fish stew with garlic and green onions, alongside some pork dumplings with carrots and cabbages, and roasted boar belly. Rice cakes would likely be served alongside everything else.

  The cooks in the Murasaki Castle weren’t exactly creative with the meals they made for him and his father, Hamada. His uncle, however, was a great admirer of fine food and the gluttonous pleasures. Jin wasn’t quite as taken by the cuisine as his uncle; the man could probably eat a whole table full of food by himself if unrestrained, but Jin did appreciate the tasty food served at every single meal.

  After a solid minute of silence, his uncle finally spoke, “I have received news from the capital this morning; it is… dire. I do not know what I am supposed to do.”

  Jin sighed, pushing away the thoughts of food that’d lingered over his head. “Have our shipments been rejected? I know we have a contract with the Imperial Family, but – given their fleeting minds – it certainly won’t be shocking if they suddenly decided to pull out of the trade deal. I also spoken to some of the farmers about possible shipments of white rice—”

  “It’s not about trade, dear nephew.” Arima said, cutting off Jin’s speech. Huffing, Jin nodded and waited for his uncle to continue. “I have just received news of the Shogun’s passing. He was assassinated in his sleep. The assailant was found to be a Shinobi, who had impersonated one of the servants. He has since been found and caught and sentenced to death by boiling. However, the Shogunate is left without a clear successor…”

  Jin’s eyes widened; this was the worst possible news he could have received today. With the Shogun dead and without an heir to claim the throne of the Shogunate, the one hundred Daimyos and their armies would no doubt rise in arms and the whole damn continent would be engulfed in total war within the next two months at the latest. When that happened, the tiny village of Hirata would be swept under a tide of passing armies. Even with all of Jin’s advancements and innovations, they could only muster three hundred soldiers at best, though their equipment would be far better than most other soldiers; even then, those three hundred lacked any real experience in battle and would likely freeze at first contact.

  He could do his best to defend the village from passing armies, but other mages would likely be able to match him and then Hirata’s one advantage would suddenly vanish. That wasn’t even taking into account the possibility of the enemy having more than one mage in their employ. Murasaki Castle was taken by the combined might of three, very powerful magic users, after all.

  The whole village was essentially backed into a corner with nowhere to go. Everything he’d done for the people here would be undone within the next few months. Passing armies wouldn’t peacefully occupy this place; they’d loot, pillage, and burn, before moving on. Their only hope was the Daimyo’s protection, but his uncle’s liege was sorely lacking in military might and Jin held no sway in his court – he’d never even seen the man.

  As things stood, leaving the blasted village to its eventual fate sounded like a very good idea. However, a part of him disagreed; he had to stand and defend what was his. Hirata, as it was today, came to be because of Jin’s efforts and Jin’s knowledge; his uncle only reaped the benefits and claimed to be the mind behind it all. This village belonged to Jin by right and he was not about to abandon it to some passing army full of dirty peasants with pitchforks and a few bushi. However, the more rational part of him reasoned that staying would be a hopeless endeavor; Jin could kill hundreds, maybe even a thousand, of soldiers by himself, but he was not infallible – he was not strong enough just yet. The defense of Hirata would take a level of strength he simply did not possess.

  All in all, Jin had absolutely no idea what he wanted to do. Every choice carried with it a burden he did not want to carry. And yet, the burden was his and his alone – no other man was capable of shouldering it, so why should he turn his back on it?

  Jin sighed and groaned. This is… all so damn confusing; why’d the shogun have to die now of all times? I haven’t even finalized the village’s defenses! Then again, given Hirata’s remoteness, no army would reach us until about a year or so into the coming war…

  “Oh… I see… that’s… not good,” Jin finally said, grabbing the bottle of rice wine at the edge of the table and taking a large gulp out of it. Arima didn’t seem to care at all. “I have… some ideas as to what we could do to ensure the safety of this village, but… the threat of total war is not something to scoff at.”

  “Indeed, dear nephew, if we are to survive the coming storm, we will need to plan and gather resources,” Arima said in a moment of lucidity. “The Daimyo will call on all his retainers to aid him in the coming war; it’s inevitable. I will heed his call and I will bring with me my own retinue; numbers are not on my side, but I must honor my obligations to my liege. When that happens, Jin, you will be in charge of this village.”

  “You have done more for Hirata in four years than I have done in all the years of my life,” Arima continued. “If anyone is to lead this place to survival and salvation, it’s you, dear nephew. You are the only one with the power and the will to lead this once nameless village to greatness.”

  Jin raised an eyebrow. While the offer was nice and all, Arima was practically breaking the order of succession in offering him his fief. “What about
Ebisu? He could lead this place in your stead; I would advise him as I have advised you.”

  Arima shook his head. “I have seen your eyes, dear nephew. I may not be the smartest or the fiercest man in my family. My father often called me a dullard when I was younger, but I recognize your eyes. Many things you have seen; many battles you have fought, and many enemies you have laid low. Your eyes speak louder than any of your words, dear nephew.”

  “Though I know not how this is possible, given your age, I cannot simply deny what is already clear to my eyes,” His uncle continued. “You are far older than you appear, Jin – far older than even your father.”

  Somehow, Toyotoda Arima was far more perceptive than he appeared. Even Yojimbo failed in perceiving Jin’s true age – at least, in mental terms, since he was physically still a nine-year-old child. Hamada had made note of Jin’s intelligence and wisdom beyond his years, but spoke nothing of it. His teachers noted it as well, but merely attributed it to him being a child prodigy or some such. Arima, somehow, saw deeper than any other person he’d met before – seeing into the very shape of his soul, a jaded former emperor, who’s seen too much of the world.

  Sighing, Jin spoke, “Very well, uncle; once the Daimyo calls on you to honor your duty as his retainer, I shall be the bulwark of this village. I will defend it with everything I have at my disposal. Should the worst come to pass, I will ensure the lives of the villagers and your family.”

  “That is all I ask, Jin.”

  “However, if we are to survive the coming storm, I will need access to all the village’s resources,” Jin said. “Open the treasury to me so I may bolster our defenses and build a proper militia. We’ll need weapons and armor, walls and watchtowers, ditches and traps laid out for our enemies. I will turn Hirata into a fortress.”