by Nikita Thorn
Card in Play: Polished Shell Card of Drifting Ice
A chilly wind blows from the north, slowing enemy movement speed and lengthening all movement-impairing effects on enemies by 100% for the next 5 minutes.
This was not one of the three more powerful Cards they had just obtained from the Spearmaster, but one from an earlier room. Seiki stared at his friend, and the rest of the group, who were slowly putting together what Ippei had done.
“Go,” said Ippei. He tossed Seiki a leather pouch, which contained all the potions they had looted: seven in total. “You need to finish what you came here for.”
It finally dawned on him what Ippei’s intention was, and Seiki once again realized that at a time like this there was nothing that needed to be said.
The Obora charged once more. With his unit out of energy, Seiki spun around and drove his Hikari into the ground a safe distance away from the oozing poison. With the Card’s effect, his Vertical Spike gave him and his friends four seconds to do what they had to do.
Seiki shouted to his unit, “Follow me, exactly in my path. Single file.”
Launching into a Slide toward the direction Shousei had disappeared in, Seiki shot into the unknown darkness ahead, through a sea of invisible traps. Metal teeth snapped shut and burst open around his feet as he cleared a safe path for his troops.
He glanced backward. Cries rose from the demonic troops as they charged from the far left. His friends repositioned themselves around the entrance to meet the incoming demons. The Obora shifted position, and Seiki was somehow relieved it was starting to make its way after him in a slow chase. At least, that was one thing his friends did not have to worry about.
Turning back around toward his yet unknown destination, Seiki dashed further into the dark. Behind him, shouts broke out as his friends presumably engaged the demons. The first explosion, whether intentional or not, burst loud and clear, followed by more shouts, most likely as some light ability set off the poisonous slime on the ground.
Seiki could feel the shockwave in his bones, but he was too far away now to be affected. He knew that with only one tano-shrine left, it was impossible for the group to withstand the endless horde, and they had burned that particular Card to buy him time to hopefully finish the instance.
Having left the sphere of light around the entrance, he found himself in near complete darkness. Behind him, the Obora followed, its glowing red eyes fixed on its target, while its slimy body glided safely above the traps, covering the ground with poison wherever it moved.
After a minute or so, Seiki understood why Ippei’s strategy had been absolutely necessary. Slide broke through traps, but only at near top speed, and Seiki found he had to use Blood Rush to trade health for energy more than once to keep going. The Card’s slowing effect, however, was helping. And as he ran out of both health and energy to Slide, every extra second was precious as he waited for the minute-long potion lockouts to expire.
“Keep close,” Seiki said to his unit, that he could hear but not see. “You all there?”
“Here, Chief.” Four voices answered him.
Without any more energy to Slide with, Seiki had to manually sweep his way forward, using his Hikari to spring the traps and tossing them aside. This had greatly slowed them down, and the red eyes were slowly catching up with them.
It was completely dark, in a terribly familiar way, and Seiki was not sure exactly where he was going. He remembered the direction where Shousei’s voice was last heard, and he was slowly making his way toward it, inch by inch, away from the approaching doom that tried to reach him.
“Chief,” cried Rumi.
Seiki glanced back. The Obora had closed the distance, and they would need to make a stand. Seiki crouched down and swept his Hikari across the ground. Three traps snapped shut as the sword passed over them, and Seiki cast them off to one side. Doing it again cleared enough ground for his unit to stand, and Seiki ordered them into positions to unleash another Sweeping Blade.
The triton slid back and started thrashing as expected. Now that a little bit of his health and energy had recharged, Seiki traded more health for another burst of Slide. His hands were sweating, and he had a feeling he was in one of his unending nightmares of fumbling his way through the dark, alone, isolated, forever trapped in his own horrors. A voice at the back of his mind was starting to doubt, that despite his friends’ unwavering confidence, he was simply fooling himself that he could do all the things he hoped to accomplish.
Seiki firmly pushed the thought out of his mind. He had done this before, gone up against all kinds of odds and achieved things people had told him were impossible. This was nothing new. Nothing that made him who he was had changed, and like before, there were people who wholeheartedly believed. That mattered.
“Okay, we’re going to do this again,” Seiki told his unit as the Obora closed in once more. One step at a time was good enough. Each step forward, no matter how small, was progress.
Having rehearsed it once, Seiki found he could place the mental guide with more accuracy, maximizing the strength of his unit’s Sweeping Blade and putting more distance between them and the monster.
Relief flooded him as a panel of gray soon loomed up in the dark in front of them, like a giant celestial cape hanging from the ceiling to the floor. They had reached the far wall, whose straight rocky surface was illumined by a narrow slit of light from above, creating a slim triangle of brown-gray against the surrounding black.
A length of rope hung down in front of the wall. Seiki yanked on it to confirm that it was secure enough. With two feet against the vertical surface, he pulled himself upward.
He nodded to his unit to copy him. “What I can do, you can do, right?”
“Yes, Chief,” said Genta.
Saburo and Rumi started making their way up the rope without much difficulty, followed by Genta. Before Ojisan had managed to climb, however, the Obora emerged from the shadows, straight at the old man, faster than it had before. Most likely the five minutes of the Card’s slowing effect had run out.
“Keep climbing!” Seiki urged him.
Letting go of the rope, Seiki dropped back down onto the ground. He drank another potion to fill his health and energy, then he charged at the Obora before it could run over Ojisan and drown him in its slime.
As to be expected, his Sweeping Blade set off the poison in a loud burst and slammed him against the wall. It was a calculated hit he had to take, and Seiki was slightly grateful for the fact that Obora poison—in its natural form—seemed slightly less potent than the concentrated version cooked up by the Potionmaster. Otherwise, the damage would have been much greater.
Gritting his teeth, he ran in and followed up with another Sweeping Blade, taking yet another explosion hit as Ojisan scrambled up the rope.
As the Obora slid further back and started its cycle of thrashing, Seiki unleashed a Vertical Spike to stun the creature, buying himself another two seconds and forcing it to thrash around again as he dashed for the rope. Ojisan was already halfway up the wall, and Seiki pulled himself up as fast as he could.
“It’s a room, Chief,” whispered Saburo from above. “No demons.”
Seiki had not thought about that at all, and those news were more than welcome. His unit one by one disappeared through the crack, before Genta peered down and reached out his hand.
The top end of the rope was attached to a grappling hook, which was locked in a crack in the wall. Seiki realized he had seen it before, and this confirmed that the secret passage to the upper chamber had been Mitsue’s work, as she had once used a similar tool when escaping down the bell tower.
The rope suddenly jerked from below. Seiki gasped when he nearly lost his grip as the rope twisted and started angling outward. The Obora had reached the bottom end. Without limbs, it was slowly absorbing the rope into the body of slime. The metal hook grated sharply against the rock and started slipping.
Seiki winced and pushed
himself upward. Ojisan and Genta grabbed him and pulled him awkwardly through the rocky floor of the chamber above, just as the rock broke off.
“I guess it’s a one-way trip.” Seiki steadied himself and watched the rope vanishing into the monster’s black slime. The monster then tilted its eyes upward, before starting to push itself against the wall. To Seiki’s relief, despite its force, the Obora did not appear to be able to make its way up the vertical surface.
Safe from the monster for now, Seiki glanced around the chamber.
“What’s this place?” whispered Saburo.
The hole in the floor opened into a tiny circular room only large enough for Seiki and his unit to stand upright in. Curiously, the wall seemed to be made entirely of wooden barrels stacked on top of one another, labeled with the ‘rice’ character, much like what he had seen as East Gate clan supplies. A missing column served as a small opening, and Seiki peered around to find that the structure was part of a larger storage room. The barrels had been cleverly placed all around the crack in the cave floor to hide it from sight—no doubt Mitsue’s work to conceal her secret passage from the lower cavern.
Hurried footsteps sounded from the other side, accompanied by demonic hisses and shouts about Shinshioka intruders. But they soon faded away in the distance, fortunately leaving the room undisturbed.
As silence fell once again, Seiki led his unit quietly out into the storage. The room was narrow, and an open doorway directly connected it to a corridor with relatively bright torches along the walls. The hallway was empty, and Seiki slowly nodded to his unit to follow.
The storage was located at a dead end, leaving only one way to proceed. Faint shouts and cries were coming from all directions, but none near their location. Seiki guessed they were now in what Shousei had referred to as the upper chambers.
Drawn weapons in hand, they cautiously made their way forward, toward the source of the noises. Yells and frantic footsteps rose from further down the corridor. Seeing no other way, Seiki mentally prepared himself and his unit to fight, but, despite the clamor, the passageway remained empty.
The ruckus seemed to be coming from an opening to their left, slightly ahead, and Seiki inched toward it and peered in. Racks of swords and spears lined the walls, as well as storage sacks marked with unknown symbols.
Something crashed noisily to the floor, and the white-clad figure of Shousei dashed into view in the middle of the room, pursued by a group of demons in black leather. The swordsman spun around, swept his sword high up and fell them in one clean strike. More demons, at least twenty, screaming intelligible curses, rushed at him from the back of the room. Seiki risked looking in a bit more and spotted the familiar Demonic Agent [Level 17] standing further back, shouting orders.
The presence of Shousei and the particular demon reassured Seiki that he was on the right track. The demonic crowd and the swordsman were too engaged in combat to spare the corridor any attention, and Seiki and his unit dashed lightly across the opening.
Several dozen feet down the corridor, another room appeared to his right, much smaller. It was empty, save for a low writing desk and several storage chests. On top of the black polished surface of the desk, which seemed rather out of place in the crude chamber, was an open scroll. And next to it was an ink slab, brush and seal, which seemed to suggest the writer had left their finished work to dry.
Seiki slowly approached.
The handwriting was bold and formal, the ink still damp and gleaming.
In recognition of the long-standing friendship between Shinshioka and Fuoka, Tomoaki-hime of Fuoka amiably presents to Supreme High Lord Toshitono, Shogun of Shinshioka, a gift of her family treasure, a Pure Light Seed, as well as a hundred koku of rice and grains and a hundred folds of silk.
“The City of Fuoka?” said Seiki in surprise. If he remembered correctly, Tomoaki-hime was the lady ambassador he had met once before. “What do they have to do with this?”
Seiki tested one of the chests and found it unlocked. Inside were bundles of neatly-folded woven dark blue cloth that seemed very fine. It was marked Handwoven Blue Silk, and the soft, silky texture was pleasant to the touch.
Underneath the top layer of cloth, however, were numerous small leather sacks containing some very thick liquid. A residue drop on the outside bit Seiki’s finger like sharp needles, and he instantly knew what it was when he saw the black, sticky stain on the leather.
“Chief,” whispered Rumi before Seiki could piece together what this meant. “Someone’s coming.”
Footsteps were resounding through the corridor. Seiki replaced the items, leapt over and crouched down behind the chest, signaling his unit to do the same.
At the doorway, the slim frame of a young man appeared. Okamoto, cleanly-shaven, hair tied back in a ponytail, with a grave expression on his face, slowly walked in.
Drawing up to the writing desk, the young man rolled up the letter and carefully placed it in an ornate wooden box. Then he reached for a chest under the writing desk and took out several pieces of clothing, all blue, trimmed with silvery white threads of the highest quality. Cautiously, the young man started to dress himself, layering the luxurious clothing over his original light blue. Seiki squinted and noticed that the top, ornate layer was labeled Fuoka Official’s Robe.
The kimono was blue, and Seiki finally understood how it all fit together.
The blue was Fuoka blue, and the letter was a fake. What the Demonic Clan was delivering to the Shogun was a hundred chests’ worth of Obora poison.
CHAPTER 23
The unsuspecting young man added on more and more of the fine Fuoka garments, his expression that of grim resolution as if trying his best to ignore the continuous high-pitched wails coming from further down the corridor where the demonic troops were battling Shousei.
Held tightly in Okamoto’s hand was a small piece of paper, which he occasionally consulted as he carefully tied the wide dark gray obi around his waist. Finally, he thrust a Fuoka Official’s Ceremonial Fan through the obi, perhaps in an attempt to get every detail perfect for his disguise.
Seiki studied the situation. From the unrelenting shouts and the clanking of weapons, he knew Shousei was still occupied for the time being. But that could change any time, and he knew he did not have long. The chamber was only about thirty feet wide and not quite as deep. It was made even narrower with the poison chests lining the walls, which would make it awkward for combat. Worse was the fact that it had only one exit, so his best bet was to get Okamoto out of this dead end as soon as possible.
Just as Seiki was about to order his unit to block the entrance, a small shadow appeared at the doorway. The thief girl Mitsue, still dressed as a young boy, dashed into the room, casting a glance behind her to make sure she had not been spotted.
Okamoto did not seem surprised to see her. “So you saw my signal flare.” He continued to untangle the decorative tassel on his fan. “The Agent said intruders have broken in. So we are going to move out as soon as possible.”
Mitsue grimaced as she approached her companion. “This is much too soon,” she said with a little sigh. “That swordsman kept hounding me, and he must have followed me here. You see, I came this close to killing him, but…your friend from the dojo decided to be merciful.”
Seiki was rather surprised that the fact was acknowledged. Still, he could not help wondering if he would have really been able to kill Shousei if he had chosen to.
Okamoto lifted his brow at the comment, but decided to stick to the business at hand. “The demons are getting the carts ready so they can load up these… gifts to the Shogun.” He let out a bitter laugh at his own term as he gestured towards the chests around the room.
The statement confirmed Okamoto’s overt complicity in the plot against Shinshioka, as he seemed to be fully aware of what was hidden in the containers. The young man’s expression turned serious as he looked at his companion again. “You’ve got it?”
Mit
sue nodded and reached into her pocket. She handed Okamoto a slim sheathed dagger. “It’s a very old blade. Light-forged, as required.”
Seiki only had time to make out its decorated metal scabbard before the weapon disappeared into the young man’s sleeves.
“The guards will be quick,” Mitsue added. “You’ll only get one chance. So be decisive.”
Okamoto’s face darkened. “Don’t worry. I won’t hesitate.”
Saburo, who was crouching beside Seiki, suddenly let out an angry whisper. “He’s going to assassinate the Shogun? Coward!”
Rumi quickly shushed the boy and Seiki shook his head.
Mitsue frowned, waited a few more seconds, before shrugging and turning her attention back to Okamoto. Reaching into her pocket again, she produced another item. It was a golden metal hoop, nearly circular, almost like a bracelet with open ends.
Seiki was certain he had seen the Mysterious Metal Part [Instance Item] before. After another second, he recognized it as the treasure Mitsue had stolen from the bell tower. From what he remembered, it had been Shousei’s father who had hid it there, and Shousei had referred to it as a handle.
Its use became apparent when Okamoto crouched down to retrieve a small pile of folded gray cloth from under the writing desk. Unwrapping it, he revealed an intricate box in a matching golden hue. It was small enough to fit in one hand, and bore no visible lid or keyhole, except for two tiny hooks on its top.
From the way Okamoto handled it, Seiki was quite certain it contained an item of high value, and that the metal handle also acted as a key. The golden loop clicked in place with a soft ethereal shink, and a bright grating sound followed as Okamoto twisted the top of the box open.
Something invisible silently exploded outward, and the room seemed to instantly drop a degree in temperature. Both Okamoto and Mitsue drew a short gasp and shied away from the box. Seiki held his breath as he felt a strange ghostly sensation touching his skin.
His unit must have felt it, too. Rumi turned to look worriedly at him. The mysterious explosion had done no damage, so Seiki simply gestured to her to keep observing.