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The flow of mory turned backward, rolling ti back to ten years ago.
The Hero Village.
Hidden deep within the mountains of northeastern Japan, there lay an obscure little village, so secluded that even its na was unknown—not unknown due to obscurity, but literally unknown, as it simply never had one.
Its residents simply called it "The Village," or "The Mountain Village," and outsiders who were aware of it rely referred to it as "The Hero Village," due to its legacy of training powerful warriors known as Heroes.
For centuries, its exact location and even its very existence had remained secret, known only to those who had personally set foot within its borders.
This year, however, marked an unprecedented exception.
For the first—and perhaps only—ti in history, the Hero Village had agreed to hold a joint training exercise with an outside clan.
Their chosen partners were none other than the legendary Onmyōji Clan of Kyoto—the fad Keikain Family.
For both clans—and particularly for the Hero Village—this collaboration was extraordinarily bold. Never before had the villagers risked potential exposure by interacting with an outside power. It was a revolutionary decision.
If successful, both sides would gain trendously, forging bonds that allowed for mutual exchange of skills, techniques, and resources.
If unsuccessful, however, the Hero Village would beco vulnerable to exploitation. After all, while the village lacked the dazzling magic of the Keikain's Onmyōji arts, it possessed unique, fiercely guarded training thods capable of elevating ordinary humans to the point of shattering boulders bare-handed.
These techniques held imnse value—especially to Onmyōji and independent sorcerers, whose raw magical prowess and flashy spells masked their relative physical fragility.
Simply put, mages were glass cannons, powerful yet fragile.
Therefore, successful cooperation would undeniably benefit both parties trendously.
Consequently, for this joint training session, both sides extended unprecedented sincerity:
The Hero Village opened its hidden gates, offering free access to its main stronghold—a privilege that had never before been granted to outsiders. They set no restrictions whatsoever on the visitors from the Keikain Clan.
In response, the Keikain Family dispatched only a small delegation of adult branch leaders and servants. The vast majority of their contingent consisted solely of their youngest generation—the eldest being barely older than ten, the youngest only three or four years old.
Among them was a particularly notable young child: Bokue Keikain, only seven years old at the ti and recently appointed as the clan's acting head.
One side generously threw open the doors to its previously hidden ho; the other entrusted their very future—their youngest generation—to the host village's hospitality.
It should have been a perfect alliance, and indeed, at first it appeared to be just that.
Until that fateful day—
❁❁❁❁
It was a blazing midsumr morning. The sun beat down rcilessly, its intense rays streaming through gaps in the trees onto the training field, turning the area into a sweltering furnace. The oppressive heat rising from the ground alone could leave anyone drenched in sweat after only minor exertion.
Yet despite this, the Hero Village's young trainees dutifully carried out their daily sparring exercises. Under the shade of trees nearby, supervising adults watched carefully.
"You know..." one of the adult villagers comnted with a weary sigh, watching the youngsters swinging wooden swords back and forth.
"It's already the seventh day since we began this joint training, but nothing's really changed, has it? It's as if the Keikain Clan kids aren't even interested in mixing or sparring with our kids."
Indeed, looking closely, it was obvious that all the children on this training ground belonged strictly to their own village. The Keikain youngsters, anwhile, remained at a separate training field beyond the opposite hill.
It felt odd. Clearly, it was supposed to be a joint exercise, yet so far the two groups hadn't interacted at all—as if purposefully distancing themselves from each other.
"Hm, well..." An elderly, white-haired man who looked like the village chief stroked his beard thoughtfully, shaking his head gently.
"It's still early days, after all. Expecting imdiate friendship from young children who've just t is probably unrealistic. Give them ti; two months is plenty. Let's trust the kids to handle it themselves."
Yet just as the chief finished, another voice piped up skeptically from nearby.
"If it were just shy children, sure, maybe. But it feels more like deliberate separation—maybe the Keikain branch heads secretly instructed their kids to avoid using any Onmyōji techniques in front of us. For all we know, they might have spells capable of remote viewing and might already be spying on our training from so hidden cave nearby."
"Alright, alright, that's enough speculation. Soone might overhear—" The old chief started reprimanding gently, but before he could finish—
CLACK!
A wooden sword struck sharply against another, and a dull thud echoed across the training ground as one weapon flew high through the air before clattering onto the ground.
At the center of the field stood a boy with short, pale-green hair, triumphantly raising his wooden sword. On the ground before him, his opponent sat defeated, empty-handed.
Almost imdiately, an adult supervisor stepped forward decisively.
"Match over! The winner—Takashi Hayase!"
"Woah, amazing, Takashi!"
"You won again!"
A loud cheer erupted instantly from the crowd of spectating children.
Yet, the green-haired boy nad Takashi didn't seem happy at all. He glanced around briefly, searching, and when he didn't find the person he sought, he turned toward a blue-haired girl standing quietly among the crowd, seemingly distracted and daydreaming.
"Hey, Kurumi. Where's Bokue Keikain?"
"Hm?" The girl with a blue ponytail—Kurumi Nonaka—snapped back to reality, blinking in surprise. "You an... Bokue-nii?"
Kurumi glanced around uncertainly, then shook her head.
"I don't know. My sister Yuki doesn't seem to be here either, so they're probably training together on the rear mountain again."
"The rear mountain?" Takashi frowned. "Why would they go there?"
Kurumi shrugged again. "I'm not sure. But Yuki told she and Bokue-nii train at a secret spot back there. She said I couldn't follow—my presence would distract her, apparently."
"Is that so...?" Takashi seed skeptical.
However, at that exact mont, a piercing, bloodcurdling scream shattered the village's peaceful morning.
Instantly, everyone turned sharply toward the distant forested mountain path, spotting a blood-soaked figure desperately sprinting toward them, yelling hysterically:
"T-terrible news! Soone's pulled out the cursed sword Brynhildr—the one sealing away that evil spirit in the rear mountain shrine! He's been possessed, and now he's charging toward the village, slaughtering anyone in his way!"
"What!? Who was it!?"
"Seito—it was Seito! But that doesn't matter right now—we must imdiately organize a defense! Move all the children to safety!"
"Understood! Gather every able adult—arm yourselves now! Takashi, you're the fastest runner here, rush to inform the Keikain delegation imdiately!"
Despite the shocking chaos erupting suddenly, even the village's young trainees understood clearly—at this critical mont, everyone had a part to play.
"Got it!"
Takashi acknowledged quickly, turning to sprint away—but soone else moved even faster.
Kurumi Nonaka darted past him like an arrow, racing directly toward the rear mountain, shouting urgently over her shoulder.
"Takashi—you go tell the Keikain family! I'll find Bokue-nii and my sister myself!"
❁❁❁❁
At the sa mont, near a tranquil stream in a hidden valley on the rear mountain, two figures sat close together, oblivious to the chaos.
"Hey, Bokue... does my butt feel nice?"
"I don't know exactly how to describe it, but it is pretty soft."
"That's it?"
"Well... it's a little wet, too."
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