Bushido Online: the Battle Begins: A LitRPG Saga

by Nikita Thorn

  The enemy went down with a soft grunt. It was over.

  Seiki took a deep breath as he observed the damage. All around, bodies of the attackers were slowly dispersing, and the gunpowder barrels lay haphazardly everywhere. Master Tsujihara went rummaging around for something and scooped up his silver dagger. Seiki reasoned he should have thought about picking it up for him earlier. Suddenly, he started to feel faint as the shadow arrow on his upper arm finally dropped his health level to a mere tenth. He sat down on the ground.

  Master Tsujihara was obviously aware of the affliction. He walked back to Seiki and grabbed his arm to look at the culprit. “Better this than the Hikari.” The old man grimaced. Before Seiki could ask what he meant, Master Tsujihara stabbed his thin dagger into Seiki’s shoulder where the arrow had pierced him. Seiki gasped as his health dropped almost to where Strength of Will would kick in. But the health drain stopped as the shadow arrow dispersed.

  The old man then pulled a small ceramic bottle from his belt and tossed it to Seiki. “Drink this.”

  It was a regular health potion, but a decently potent and refreshing cool one. As Seiki downed it, his health filled and his wounds closed. Once that happened, all traces of blood speedily faded.

  “That’s what you did on the battlefield if you were out of range of a healer,” said Master Tsujihara. Seiki now remembered that the man used to be Captain Tsujihara of the feared Morishige Army. After he had witnessed what he could do, Seiki did not doubt why. “Those were times where Seeds of Light were rare,” said the old man. “Now, thankfully, they have managed to find a way to extract it from ores, and it’s plentiful enough that they can put it on… armor as well.”

  There was a hint of amusement as he referred to the Shinshioka chest piece Seiki had received from the Shogun. Seiki was quite certain that what Master Tsujihara had meant to say was ‘entry-level armor’, but he had enough sensitivity to omit the qualifier at the last minute. Looking down at it, Seiki saw that the cut from Master Tsujihara’s sword earlier had not mended itself.

  There was gentle laughter in the old man’s eyes and he knew he was just teasing him. “I’m sure the washing lady can’t fix this,” muttered Seiki. “Did you really have to go that far?”

  “I had to be convincing,” said Master Tsujihara. He shook his head. “Apparently, I wasn’t convincing enough.”

  “Oh, you definitely were,” said Seiki. “For a moment I thought they were going to make me—” He stopped short. It did not matter now, and all was well. Seiki grinned as he looked at the old man. “Never mind. As long as we never have to do that again.”

  Master Tsujihara put the dagger back on his waist and brushed dirt off him. “Don’t you know what they do to people accused of high treason?” said the old man, casually. Then, with a straight face, he said, “The Shogun might order us to duel to the death.”

  “Okay, that’s not funny.”

  “Which is why we had better get to work,” concluded Master Tsujihara as he nodded to Seiki to get up.

  They emptied the rest of the barrels into the water, save for two which Master Tsujihara loaded onto one of the boats hooked to the side of the tunnel. The old man then found a bow and arrow that had mysteriously not dispersed with the bodies, lit the arrowhead on fire, and shot it to set off a ground-shaking explosion that collapsed part of the tunnel. Water could still flow through, but the large pile of rubble on top of it should block off any entry from the other side for at least the time being.

  “Can people in the Palace basement hear this?” Seiki wondered.

  “We can only hope that they are naïve enough to believe it was an earthquake,” said Master Tsujihara. Again, Seiki was not sure if he was joking.

  They climbed the stairs and started to make their way back. Seiki felt completely exhausted, but strangely satisfied. Now with four abilities, he had finally caught up to his level. The experience from this quest so far had put him close to Level 9, and if he remembered correctly the next ability unlocked the level right after that.

  “What’s the next ability going to be, Master Tsujihara?” he asked. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind spoilers.” Everyone else seemed to know exactly what they were doing and what was coming.

  The old man obviously did not approve of the question. “You still have a long way to go to perfect that Slide, so right now you can forget even thinking about the next one.”

  “Come on, one hint.”

  “Patience is a virtue, Seiki.”

  Seiki skinned his teeth. “Of course that’s what you would say.”

  He would not mind another quest where he would have to practice it over and over, since he knew full well what he could do was still pretty shoddy. Now that he thought about it, he was rather looking forward to spending the next few days trying out different combinations of his Slide at the dojo to get a better grasp of how to control his energy flow. He told this to Master Tsujihara as they made their way through the dark tunnel. “Then afterward, maybe you’d like to share some more of your fine wine,” Seiki jested. Now if he had that in real life, it would take care of his sleeping problems for sure.

  “You wish, young man,” said Master Tsujihara in mock sternness from the darkness behind him.

  Seiki wondered when he would be able to perform everything Master Tsujihara had done back in that room. If his eyes had not deceived him, the old man had managed to push and pull with his speed during the Slide, making it possible to do a perfect aim with his other sword forms.

  As Seiki fixed on the light at the end of the tunnel, he imagined a path on the ground, confirming that it really lit up in his mind, and let himself slide forward toward the exit. He tried exerting more energy down toward his ankles to see if he could control the speed. That was perhaps too much, too fast, as it broke the glide midway through.

  “Keep your knees bent,” said Master Tsujihara. “It makes it easier. The longer you hold your concentration on the path, the more energy you will end up using, and the faster you will go.”

  “Oh,” said Seiki. So that was how it worked. It was more nuanced than he had assumed.

  He attempted another short one as they emerged from the tunnel into the first room. Seiki remembered there were more gunpowder barrels to take care of. “So what do we—”

  Master Tsujihara’s expression turned grave, which told Seiki something was terribly wrong. That immediately froze the words on Seiki’s tongue.

  It was as if a silence had descended on them, and Seiki did not dare break it. He glanced around the empty underground room, but could not figure out what Master Tsujihara was so concerned about.

  “Seiki,” said the old man, very quietly. “You made me a promise earlier, and I expect you to keep it.”

  Before Seiki could recall what promise he alluded to, Master Tsujihara grabbed his shoulder, spun him back around to face the entrance, and forced him to his knees. Seiki felt cold steel against his throat since the old man had pressed his silver dagger against it. “Stay silent,” Master Tsujihara whispered, before looking up and shouting, “You did very well to send a spy.” His voice was hard.

  Seiki’s mind reeled from confusion. “Master Tsujihara—”

  The old man cut him off as he continued to shout. “Show yourselves or this boy dies.”

  From the tunnel, metal clinks could be heard and several men in Shinshioka armor appeared around the corner, where they had presumably been hiding. The group was led by Commander Nakatani, in all his solemnity. Of the other men present, Seiki recognized Lieutenant Kato.

  Commander Nakatani glanced at Seiki, and at the pile of barrels. “There is no need for this, Tsujihara. It’s over.” His hand was on the hilt of his sword, which was still undrawn.

  “Don’t you think you put your little spy in a difficult position here?” said Master Tsujihara. “How fervently he begged me to change my mind.”

  At that moment, it became crystal clear to Seiki what Master Tsujihara was doing, an
d it chilled him to the soul. By framing it this way, he was protecting Seiki of any accusation of being an accomplice in high treason. At the same time, he was protecting Maeda, who these people did not even know existed.

  “You know how serious this is,” said Nakatani.

  Seiki was starting to feel that the old man had planned this all along. That would explain why he had forcefully tried to get Seiki to leave in the beginning, and why he had reminded him over and over about the graveness of the charge he was facing.

  In spite of all this, Seiki did not care anymore about promises. He would break them all if he must. “It’s not what you think!” he cried.

  Before Seiki could finish, he felt a blow on his back. The hit did very little damage, but it was much like Shousei’s in that it was incapacitating. Seiki collapsed onto the ground and struggled for breath. For a moment, he could say no more.

  “I wonder what I ever did to deserve so much loyalty,” said the old man. His smile, as well as his tone of voice, put on for the crowd in front of them, was heartless. But as Seiki glanced up and met his eyes, he recognized what that look meant. It was appreciation, and a farewell.

  Panic flooded him. This was all he had left. He could not allow it to happen. Seiki gasped for air and tried to clear the numbness off his body.

  Commander Nakatani, sword bared, rushed forward with a roar. Metals clashed as Master Tsujihara drew his to counter the attack. Lieutenant Kato moved in and tried to drag Seiki away to safety, and Seiki struggled. “No!” he tried to shout, but could only moan.

  “Hey, it’s all right,” said Kato in surprise as Seiki wanted to push him away. There were confused footsteps and orders being shouted, but Seiki could not comprehend any of them. “No!” he cried again as he regained his voice, and he shoved Kato and another soldier off him.

  Master Tsujihara seemed to be fighting in slow motion, or at least that was how it appeared to Seiki. The tip of the sword moved in a continuous flow as it parried the commander’s attack, and swerved down to slash the man’s wrist, forcing the commander to let go of his sword.

  The weapon dropped onto the ground and bounced, once, and the commander cried, “Bowmen!”

  Immediately, the uniformed archers got into position around the pair, bows drawn.

  “It’s over, Tsujihara,” said Nakatani, panting, his left hand clasping his wounded right arm.

  This was all very wrong. It could not be happening. “No, Commander!” Seiki said, desperately. “It’s—”

  At that instant, Master Tsujihara’s glance fell on him and Seiki’s words died in his throat. The man was doing this for him, but even more than that, he was doing it for Hanae’s son. This was what it had always been about. The master had given up everything for Hanae’s son, and Seiki realized he could not betray his wish. The swordsman had made him promise to do as he said, and he told him now to stay silent. Seiki could only stare at the developing scene in horror.

  A gentle smile appeared on the old man’s lips. “It’s over,” he said. He cast his sword to one side, and the blade skidded noisily away on the dirt floor.

  The commander seemed to be holding his breath, and his expression turned very grim. “Tsujihara,” said the commander. It was almost a whisper. “I’m sorry.” Seiki could see now that there must have once been much affection between them, perhaps before all that happened with Okamoto. There was an understanding, too, and respect.

  As the old man slowly sat down on his legs and drew his silver dagger, Seiki felt an uncontrollable shiver rising through his body. His ears rang as if he had just been hit in the skull.

  “This ends here,” said Master Tsujihara. His voice was calm and his gaze unwavering as he looked directly at Nakatani. It was a request, perhaps even a command.

  Nakatani studied the old man for a moment, then nodded solemnly. “No one will pursue this any further. You have my word,” he said. He then backed away, and motioned to the archers to lower their bows. Immediately, a deathly silence fell. The air was so oppressively heavy now that Seiki could no longer breathe.

  Master Tsujihara had a serene smile on his face as he stabbed the blade into his lower stomach.

  The silence shattered as Seiki screamed. He had been feeling as if he was about to faint from the weight of the impending doom. But now the tension had broken, and grief and rage overtook his whole being. Someone was trying to hold him back, but his Slide broke their grip and he hurried to the old man’s side. “You can’t do this,” he cried. This could not be true. “You can’t do this to me, Master Tsujihara. Please.”

  “Seiki,” said the old man. “It’s all right.” He drew a shallow breath. “It’s supposed to end this way.” Seiki panicked as he saw that the dagger was hilt deep. Master Tsujihara said in a whisper, “At the time, the Shogun wanted to pardon him, but it was Okamoto who insisted. So don’t hold grudges.”

  Seiki could not care less about the Shogun or Okamoto or Maeda or these soldiers standing around them. This was not fair. It was a quest, after all. They had given him a mission, they had tested him, and he had passed. He had done everything they asked of him, so they could not let this take place.

  “No,” he said, his voice shaking. “Please don’t do this.”

  “Sometimes life isn’t fair, Seiki,” said Master Tsujihara softly. “Things happen that you didn’t choose.”

  No, too many things had happened that he did not choose, and now this? Seiki was breathing heavily as his mind raced for something. A loophole. A solution. He had a health potion, and he searched for it. But it was not going to work. Nothing was going to work. There was absolutely nothing he could do.

  Master Tsujihara had raised his hand to clasp his. “It’s all right,” he said, and Seiki noticed then that he had been sobbing. The old man was smiling at him, a mixture of calm and endearment. “That was aged yuzu wine if you must know.”

  Seiki shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks and blurring his vision. He did not understand. After all, he really did try. He had always tried hard, and he never, ever disappointed. Over the years, he had given his everything. Was that still not good enough?

  Now he was scared. He had been scared, all along.

  The old man seemed to be looking into his soul. “Live, Seiki,” said Master Tsujihara. “And live well.”

  Then, he was gone.

  Quest completed: The Swordsman’s Path [Level 8]. 85 XP gained.

  Class selected. You are now a Ronin.

  Chapter 20

  They had to drag Seiki out when they set off the gunpowder to reseal the cave.

  Master Tsujihara’s body had evaporated in a graceful puff of smoke, leaving behind a Hanae’s Hairpin [Memorabilia]. The Shinshioka soldiers brought Seiki out to the entrance of the tunnel on the hill. Commander Nakatani tried to offer words of consolation, but Seiki refused to talk to him.

  From the commander’s explanation, it seemed that not long after Seiki had left they had received another message on an arrow, pointing them toward the cave. The commander wanted to know how Seiki had learned about this location in the first place. But since he had given his word to Master Tsujihara that he would not pursue the case, and since Seiki was not answering him anyway, the man soon gave up. He just told Seiki that he was welcome to render his services to the Shogun’s war against the Demonic Clan any time. Seiki only glared at him.

  It was early morning, and the hill turned out to be quite picturesque, with bright green bamboo that shook like applause in the wind. However, Seiki was in no mood to enjoy it. Lieutenant Kato patted him on the shoulder, said no more, and left with the rest of the troops.

  Seiki’s mind was churning with desperate thoughts. No matter how many times he went over it, he came to the same conclusion: it was an unforgiveable injustice. He had only asked for one thing, and they had to take it away. After he had lost so much, they still denied him more, and in this situation he was entirely powerless. Anger had been lurking under the surf
ace for a while now, but he had always tried to drown it with distraction. Now he could feel its full power taking hold of him, and his heart burned with rage at a nameless enemy.

  One idea finally struck him and quickened his heartbeat.

  Hopping on the snowstepper, he rode back as fast as he could, sparing no energy, and sparing no thought for the possibility of running into people who might still want him dead. He flew through the East Gate and turned left, and soon found himself back in the peaceful alleys of South City. His heart was pounding with anxious hope as he galloped down the familiar lane, and he jumped off even before the horse had come to a complete stop at the back courtyard. He would cheat. Perhaps, he could cheat after all.

  He ran through the dojo, still half-finished, but found no one there. So, he waited for someone else to come in. It was quiet, and Seiki eventually grasped that not only was the practice hall instanced, but the whole dojo, including the courtyard. Of course, that was the only way they could allow the ladder to be there. That whole night with Master Tsujihara, he realized now, had been instanced for him as well.

  He hurried outside the courtyard door and paused. The snowstepper had not been dismissed and was still standing there patiently, and he patted it. “We’re going to try something stupid right now,” he told the horse, that simply blinked at him. A few people lower than Level 5 walked by and observed the mount with admiration. One girl asked to pet it, and Seiki absently nodded.

  Seiki continued to wait for someone with a bamboo sword. Soon, he sighted Chieko [Level 4], in light blue, heading casually toward him. Noting the bamboo sword strapped across her back, he stopped her before she could go through the courtyard door. “I have a huge favor to ask. Could you invite?”

  She eyed him warily. “Why?”

  “Please. I need to talk to your Master.”

  Chieko seemed confused, but he must have sounded desperate, and she invited him into a group. As Seiki followed her through the door, he saw that her dojo was still intact. This one had not been burnt down yet. His heart leapt. Maybe this would work after all.