Chapter 198: Iwakura Michihiro
Sayu and Bai Luo were both mbers of different intelligence divisions, under different banners.
Neither of them, however, had much interest in doing what their jobs actually entailed.
That didn’t an they lacked talent—far from it.
Their instincts were razor-sharp when it ca to information.
So when Sayu spotted a soaked scroll tucked into the clothes of the downed Kujou retainer, she was the first to snatch it out.
Unfortunately for her, Bai Luo casually plucked it from her hands before she could open it.
He gave Sveta a look—wordlessly instructing her to deal with the now-flailing Sayu—before unfolding the soggy parchnt.
The scroll was badly damaged from being subrged, the ink smudged and the paper fragile.
Still, he could make out portions of the text:
"The frontline troops on Yashiori Island are exhibiting severe signs of cowardice. This has already drawn the attention of the clan head."
"Lord Masahito himself wrote of disturbances caused by the ’Tatarigami’ on the island, but the clan head showed no concern—he flew into a rage instead."
"Thus, we were dispatched to inspect the island and report back with the truth, in hopes of inspiring Lord Masahito to seize this opportunity and strike at the resistance stronghold in one fell swoop—"
The beginning read like a standard bureaucratic mission report—explaining why the Shogunate forces had co, and hinting at the real reason behind the shelling of the refugee boats.
"...So it was you, old man Kujou," Bai Luo muttered darkly, ntally jotting down another na in his little black list.
He continued reading.
That’s when the report turned... strange.
"I’ve been getting nosebleeds since midday. Dizzy. I bring sha to the Kujou na for such weakness."
"The headaches won’t stop. At night, they’re unbearable—splitting. So soldiers have begun coughing blood. Everyone dreams, and the dreams are always nightmares."
"We dream of a sand-drowned island to the west—cursed. Evil."
"It whispers again... I swear sothing’s whispering inside my head. Like I’ve grown ears in my brain. I want to run, but I can’t."
"I’m bleeding—everywhere. It feels like I’m lting..."
"..."
After that, the scroll devolved into nothing but stains—of seawater and dark, rust-colored blood.
The text beca unreadable.
Bai Luo, ignoring Sayu’s curious eyes, stuffed the scroll back into the retainer’s clothes—then, without hesitation, kicked the man’s unconscious body back into the sea.
He already knew.
The man was beyond saving.
Better to let him go quickly than live in agony.
He gave Sveta a glance.
Understanding his silent order, she controlled the current, and the tides pulled the body beneath the waves.
Monts later, a thin stream of red began to rise to the surface.
Another one lost to the Tatarigami.
With that, the group pressed forward.
As they walked, Bai Luo finally understood what the scroll ant when it said "we."
Scattered throughout the ruins were corpses.
Dozens—maybe more.
So lay sprawled on the ground, others slumped against the ancient stone.
Shogunate soldiers.
Resistance fighters.
Even a few who looked like fishern caught in the wrong place at the wrong ti.
So had been driven mad by the Tatarigami.
Others... had clearly been used as sacrifices.
The scene was grotesque.
Grisly.
And it silenced even the usually chatty Sayu.
Without a word, she curled up into her Daruma form and let Bai Luo carry her like a plush toy.
She wanted no part in what she’d just seen.
Eventually, they reached a break in the path—a clearing, unnaturally pristine.
There, a shimring do made of flowing water stood like a curtain drawn between realms.
A barrier.
Sveta stepped forward and raised a hand, trying to command the currents.
But the water didn’t respond.
Not even a ripple.
Bai Luo handed the curled-up Sayu to Sveta before stepping toward the shimring do of water.
He extended a hand.
Whoosh—
Ripples spread across the surface—and in an instant, the barrier pulled him inside.
[Trial Initiated: Demon Blade Severed by Destiny]
[Within the ruins west of Yashiori Island, a self-regulating humanoid automaton swordsman roams.]
[It carries with it three entangled destinies.]
[Trial Objective: Defeat at least one entangled destinies.]
[Trial Rewards: One random exclusive equipnt, one random high-grade item, one random class change scroll.]
The surrounding darkness cleared slightly, but Bai Luo’s focus was already locked on the system prompt.
He had expected the trial to yield maybe a piece of unique gear—so limited drop hidden in the ruins.
But now there was talk of high-grade items... and even a random class scroll?
Jackpot.
He didn’t know exactly what the high-grade item would be—maybe a limited-use boost or a temporary ability—but the class scroll?
That was sothing he absolutely couldn’t pass up.
Even a class he didn’t normally use would add versatility to his already deadly arsenal.
From the way the system frad it, though, it was clear that to unlock all the rewards, he would need to defeat the automaton swordsman’s other two entangled destinies as well.
Three entangled destinies... that reminded Bai Luo of sothing.
He vaguely rembered the autonomous humanoid swordsman—the Maguu Kenki—having three distinct forms.
Though they only appeared during certain limited-ti events...
So this trial... was he about to fight all three?
To be safe, Bai Luo switched into his "Hei" Class.
The quantum-state body could dodge most forms of damage, and if things went south, his ultimate could instantly teleport him to Sayu or Sveta.
It was his most stable and defensive configuration.
[Comnce First Trial: Origin of Destiny?]
Yes.
[Trial of the First Destiny initiated — You must defeat the founder of the Iwakura Art, bearer of the "Douin" martial title—Mikoshi Michinobu.]
"...Huh? Who?"
Bai Luo blinked, grip tightening on his dagger.
Wasn’t he supposed to be fighting the Maguu Kenki?
Then why was the first opponent not a puppet, but so legendary-sounding sword master with an absurdly long title?
The surrounding fog dissipated.
Gone were the ruins of war and Tatarigami-tainted death.
In their place stood a quiet countryside courtyard—tranquil, idyllic, and tiless.
At its center knelt a broad-shouldered man.
Still as a statue. Eyes closed.
Even like this, Bai Luo could feel the pressure rolling off him in waves.
A living wall of steel.
As if sensing his arrival, the man slowly opened his eyes.
They held no hatred. No joy. No malice.
Only burning, boundless battle intent.
"...Mikoshi Michinobu?"
Bai Luo asked cautiously, knife raised.
"Mm."
The man gave a small nod—his expression unreadable, his speech as stiff as his posture.
One word in total.
That was all he needed.
Because next, he stood up.
And drew his blade.
The very mont Hakuen Michimitsu Anoma was unsheathed, the pressure shifted.
Gone was the humble, blank-faced farr.
What stood before Bai Luo now was a sword.
Sharp. Clear.
Alive.
"Mikoshi Michinobu."
The man raised his sword.
"Please, instruct ."
. . . . .
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