by Nikita Thorn
Koharu and Mairin had managed to get the Katakirauwa’s health down to about a fifth. Seiki rushed in and, spotting a clearing in the pen population, knocked the black pig away with a sliding Sweeping Blade.
Katakirauwa [Level 13 Elite]. HP 123/880.
“You get close and it squeals,” said Mairin, who was now back in human form. She had just used the last of her energy to top Seiki up with the three-bout Spirit Mend. “I don’t know how it killed you. It didn’t even hit you. It only ran under your legs, and that completely drained all your life.”
Maybe that was it. The demon pig seemed to deal no physical damage, but it would slow you as you got too close. Seiki could not help thinking that the instance would have been a lot easier if you were a ryoushi, with a trap and arrows.
He knew what to do, but he wondered if he would have sufficient energy to pull it off. The only viable strategy, after all, was a sliding Sweeping Blade, since it had range, and the knockback could keep the pig far away enough. He had a feeling that it would cost him yet another death but, as long as there were group members alive, they would be able to complete the phase.
Taking into consideration the extra distance he would travel on mud, Seiki mapped a curved Slide toward the Katakirauwa. “Get out of the pen,” he yelled to his friends, and he shot forward in full speed.
His hakama was completely drenched with mud now and more cold, wet dirt was splashing everywhere in a strangely delightful way. Not caring about the rest of the animals in the pen anymore, he charged at the demon pig with a fully-aimed Sweeping Blade. The impact sent it staggering off its course, and two more unfortunate animals that got caught in the swing let out alarmed squeals, before turning into Enraged Piglets [Level 13 Elite].
Seiki did not care, as the two animals fell on him. He did not need long anyway. He knew his numbers, and he had known that the first combination would not be enough.
The Katakirauwa [Level 13 Elite], HP 49/880, was turning around to charge at him, but Seiki had already planned this. Sliding in again with the last of his energy, he hit it with a normal Sweeping Blade, and the creature let out an ear-shattering squeal.
Seiki staggered again and his sight darkened. He knew he would not make it out of the pen alive now with two elite enraged animals on him, but that did not matter.
Katakirauwa slain. 134 XP gained.
Suddenly, a white fox flashed in front of him, smoky Fox Dust bursting on the two enraged pigs and turning them on her instead. Mairin had been out of range of the squeal, and her speed was unaffected. Before Seiki could recover enough to react, the kitsune shot straight into the last open cage, with the two enraged pigs in pursuit.
“Shut it!” Seiki heard Mairin’s voice from inside the cage, and Koharu slammed the door close. The cage rattled once and then it was very still as the pigs finished the fox off.
Seiki was left panting in the middle of the pen, alongside the innocent-looking piglets that had not been caged yet. Of everything he had witnessed tonight, this was the only thing that truly unsettled him.
“Get out of the pen,” said Koharu.
That was the only way to reset the angry pigs. Seiki climbed out, feeling dazed and exhausted, and very upset too. The obake jumped off the back end of the cages and Faded through the fence before the enraged animals could find their way out of the cage.
Once everyone was out, the animals settled down, and the trio was back at where it had left off the task earlier.
The white fox soon came running back on the dirt path, seemingly in a good mood. “Now that’s what they call dirty business.”
Seiki took a deep breath, his eyes still on the animals in the pen, as he said quietly, “Can you not do that again?”
Mairin frowned, before understanding what he meant. “Why?” Seiki was not looking at her, but he had a feeling she was smiling. “You were going to do the same thing. Didn’t you tell us to get out?”
“It’s different,” he said, with a tinge of harshness that he had not intended to be there. “You should have let me die.” He did not know where it came from and why he said it but, once he did, it shocked him to the core. Whatever destructive force that had been eating at his soul should only burn him, and only him. Now, it was getting out, and the idea of a dead fox was deeply disturbing. He did not have the slightest clue how that had anything to do with the present situation, but he had to stop himself from trembling at that moment.
Mairin paused, patted him softly on his arm once, and leapt back into the now-peaceful pen. “Well, we still have work to do,” she said, brightly, and she and Koharu herded the rest of the pigs into the remaining two cages, while Seiki sank down onto the ground outside the fence, feeling inexplicably exhausted.
It was as Mairin had said; once they had figured out the first two cages, the rest was easy. “Three, five, two, seven,” said Koharu, as she left the pen. The cages were now locked, and the second phase was presumably done.
Seiki followed them back silently to the house, where the old lady was waiting for him, with a lamp—which was most likely the same lamp that had come alive earlier— in her hand. “That took you a while,” she said.
“Turned out you had a demon pig in your collection.” Koharu smiled. “Now what else can we do for you, obaa-chan?”
“Come in, come in,” said Dairi, waving the lamp in her hand. “You must be tired.”
Koharu leapt lightly after her into the house.
Beside him, Mairin clicked her tongue. “All this for twenty Shogun points?” Seiki turned to look at her, and she met his eyes. A little smile was on her lips. “There’s still Phase Three, and I promise you can die all you want. How about that?”
Seiki felt a pang of shame and shook his head. “It’s—”
“It’s all right,” said the kitsune. Then, she was a fox again and she disappeared after Koharu into the house.
Chapter 06
The hardest thing on this mission appeared to be, as Seiki soon discovered, resisting the urge to drink the old lady’s water. After all that nonstop exertion, he was feeling very thirsty, and tired, and while he knew it was all in his head, the idea of refreshing water down his dry throat sounded like the best thing in the world right now. But since Ippei had told them to pour it out, Seiki thought they should heed his warning.
“Don’t drink the water,” said Mairin, maybe to herself.
The mud had completely faded from their clothes, but Seiki still felt very much like jumping into a river. He stared at the cup in front of him and looked at Mairin. The girl shrugged, stole a quick glance at the old lady, and emptied her cup over her shoulder. Seiki did the same.
“Koharu,” said Mairin, nodding toward the full cup in front of the obake, who was having a rather happy conversation with the old lady.
Koharu seemed absent-minded as she picked it up.
“Get rid of that,” Mairin whispered, before she could drink it.
The obake seemed a little puzzled at first, before remembering Ippei’s words. She secretly splashed it toward the nearest corner, but not before pointing to an old faded painting on the old lady’s wall and asking about it to get her to look away.
Getting rid of the water seemed to be the cue. “Have some more water,” said the old lady, once she saw all three cups empty. She lifted her teapot to give them some more, but her pot was now out of water. The old lady heaved a sigh as she looked at Koharu. “I’m afraid there is no more tea left. My dear Michiko, would you mind fetching some more water for me?”
Koharu giggled. She seemed to be getting a kick out of all the random names she was getting called.
Dairi Residence Mission Progress: Phase 3. Help the old lady fetch a pail of water.
Koharu seemed a bit disappointed. “I was having such a nice conversation with her. Turns out she knows a thing or two about traditional clothes.”
Seiki had not been listening in to the conversation at all.
“There’s a sm
all path at the back of the house that leads to the well,” said the old lady. “You can go with, uh, Haru and Akio over there.”
“She doesn’t even try, does she?” said Mairin, half-amused.
The old lady found a damp wooden bucket for them, the inside of which seemed to be covered in a kind of grime. If this had been where she had stored the water, Ippei’s warning would have made perfect sense already.
“Would you mind getting it completely full, Akito?” said Dairi, as she thrust the bamboo bucket into Seiki’s hand. “The path is a bit bumpy, and most of the time I spill half before I get back.” She shook her head and then muttered something about how much better it used to be when she had servants doing chores for her.
“Hopefully, it’s not one of those multitasking things,” said Mairin. “Those are a pain.” She proceeded to complain briefly about a kitsune quest that had you Dashing back and forth while keeping ceremonial candles on different sides of the room all lit. “While fighting this gigantic scorpion that keeps poisoning you and you get slower and slower, and then the candles go out, and you start over.” She grimaced at the memory. “Worst quest ever.”
They set out on the path past the house, deeper into the grass field, which was still windless and eerily silent.
“Are missions usually this long?” Seiki asked Mairin, who was walking beside him. This was all for 20 Honor points, and a reward box. Ahead of them, Koharu was casually humming a nursery rhyme.
“I guess so,” said Mairin. “Usually, the more suggested players, the longer they are. Like, I’ve heard that there’s this one with a bridal procession through a forest, with eight players max, and it takes hours and hours.”
“Gotta work for those Honor points.” Seiki chuckled.
He noticed that the grass was getting taller as they went deeper into the field. At this point, however, he could still see over the top. The view was nothing but a desolated sea of still fields frozen in the moonlight. In the distance, dark mountain ranges loomed up and, as he glanced around, Shinshioka was nowhere in sight.
“If you don’t like these, you can run dungeons instead.” The kitsune shrugged. “Those are pretty straightforward, with minimal story. You go in, clear rooms, kill the boss, get your drop.”
“Do you get Honor points for that?”
“No,” said Mairin. “Just gold. But occasionally, you do get useless things, like vases and stuff, marked as treasure, which you can turn in at the Palace and get a few Honor points that way. You can craft some high-level stuff for Honor, too, or sometimes even Favors.”
Personally, Seiki did not really care about collecting these Honor points. But he knew Ippei wanted him to do war games, and he needed to become a Favored Member of the Court before the Shogun would let him do that. It would take him more than a month to get to the required 500 points, even with doing all three missions a week. And if one took this much time and dedication, he had no idea if he would have enough time to achieve that.
“Any other way to get Honor?”
“Well, if you’re rich like these big clans, you can pretty much buy Honor. Either buy people’s treasures or pay mercenaries to speed run you through missions.”
Seiki wrinkled his nose. “I’m barely making rent.” Woodcutting was not exactly a profitable trade, especially when he was giving woodblocks away for free to Kentaro. In exchange, though, he had a steady supply of health potions and bag charms, and he no longer had to worry about pickpockets.
“Or you can join a clan that pays out their territory quest rewards,” said Mairin.
That, Seiki had never heard of and he shook his head.
“You know the difference between private and public territories, right?”
“Yeah,” said Seiki. “Public territories are named, like Ichikeya or Taira Mansion, and not instanced.” Private territories were instanced for the individual, or whoever they were grouped with. Still, from his understanding, you still had to pay monthly to own a territory, and he remembered that Fuyu had once said something about the Ichikeya rent being very expensive.
“Yep,” said Mairin. “Public territories come with their own daily and weekly quests, only available for members of the clan who owns the territory, and these quests give really good gold reward.”
“Oh,” said Seiki, understanding now what had been fueling clan wars all along, and why clans were motivated to get more members.
Territory raids often started with a challenge. The first time the challenge could go unaccepted but, after a week, the challenger had the right to challenge again. And this forced an automatic acceptance. If the challenger won, they gained the right to enter the territory for fifteen minutes, after which they usually quickly invited the rest of their clan members in, turning it into a full-scale invasion. Or, they could do it like how the West Defenders did with Taira Mansion, where they managed to get someone to invite them in without the challenge.
If the invaders managed to kill every single clan member in the territory, they then took control of the territory. And if they managed to hold it for the next seventy-two hours, the territory quests opened up for them.
Seiki had been wondering what was motivating them to go to such length, but it seemed quite obvious now that he learned of the existence of territory quests.
“So, the more members, the less likely someone could come in and slaughter everyone in the territory and take over,” Seiki mused aloud. This was why very large clans never seemed to get challenged.
“Exactly,” said Mairin. “Like the Honor Warriors who hold the Eternal Summer Hall in North City. There are always hundreds of clan members in there, so no one can even think about invading them. But, of course, the more members, the more you have to share the quest rewards, so you always need a balance, and clans are often kicking out useless members.”
“Ah,” said Seiki, slightly relieved he had not joined a clan and was therefore spared from all those complications.
“The cities are crazy. Then, in the countryside, there are all these tax-collecting daimyo territories—”
A bird had fluttered down in front of them, and Seiki saw it was a post pigeon for him.
“Is it Ippei?” Mairin asked, as Seiki grabbed the letter. “If it is, tell him there’s nothing comical about the whole thing.”
Mumei [Level 4]: (1 minute ago) Since you missed sunset, come to Nanamura at midnight.
“No, it’s this person called Mumei,” said Seiki. He would need to write back and tell them they had got the wrong person.
“Secret Santa,” said Koharu.
“Sorry, what?” asked Seiki.
Koharu turned to look at him. “Secret Santa. That’s the only reason to use Mumei.”
Seiki had no idea what she was talking about.
“Mumei is how you send letters anonymously. You mail them some money and they forward your letter, so no one knows who sent it.”
“They must have got the wrong person,” said Seiki.
“What does it say?” asked Mairin. Seiki handed her the letter.
“Whoever it is, it can’t be good,” said Seiki. The only people who would need to hide their identity to lure him somewhere were either the Shadow Manor or the Rogami Clan.
“Are you going?” asked the kitsune.
Seiki laughed. “No way.”
“Well,” said Mairin. “If it’s your enemies, then they want to talk. PVP is disabled in Nanamura.”
“You know where Nanamura is?” Seiki had never heard of the place.
“Yeah,” said Mairin, surprised. “It’s that first village they send you to once you reach Level 7 and can go out the city the first time, where...”
Koharu became tense, and Mairin immediately took notice and trailed off before she finished her thought. They were standing in the middle of the path with tall grass towering up on both sides and, as soon as they ceased their conversation, Seiki realized why.
He could hear the wind. There was win
d coming, but a rather faint, localized one, coming closer and closer toward them from the right, rustling the grass like a giant serpent. They seemed to instinctively know it was impossible to outrun it. And at a time like this, there was absolutely nothing to be done, except stand and wait for it to emerge.
Seiki had his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready for anything. The grass beside them started to shake violently.
It hit them, and the grass bent and shook as if an earthquake had struck. But whatever it was, it was completely invisible. The wind was so strong it clapped against their bodies and sent them stumbling backward, as the thing cut across the path in front of them like a phantom train.
Seiki felt it difficult to breathe, and the air torrent howled in his ears as it rushed past. But it only lasted a second. Next thing he knew, the mysterious wind was disturbing grass on his left, as it slowly went further and further away, and the grassland was soon still again.
Seiki glanced at Mairin and Koharu, who had nothing to say on the matter. There was no use asking what that was, since it was clear none of them had any clue. Besides, the thing did no damage and seemed to have no interest in them. Perhaps it could have been easy to dismiss it as a strange inexplicable natural phenomenon, if such things truly existed in this realm.
“Maybe that’s the challenge,” said Mairin. “You carry the water back, and the thing makes you spill it.” She did not seem entirely convinced herself, but shrugged. “Let’s get on with it. At least, I guess we’re here already.”
She was right. In front of them was a very small clearing, with a circular stone well in the middle. For some reason, Seiki thought it looked vaguely familiar.
Koharu heaved a deep breath as she studied the scene. “You guys know what’s going to happen, right?”
“Yeah,” said Mairin. “They’re really gonna do this, aren’t they?” She blinked as she saw Seiki’s slightly blank expression. “An old well, in the middle of nowhere.” She trailed off. “No?”