The sun rose over a capital veiled in smoke and grief.
The battle was over, the blood washed from the stones, but the pain had etched itself into the walls of the Daimyō's keep. Servants moved silently through the halls, tending to survivors and collecting the names of the dead. Among them were Lords and heirs, men who were meant to shape the next generation of the Land of Iron.
The tally was staggering.
A dozen high-born samurai had perished. Young lords who were to inherit lands, titles, and the weight of tradition. Their loss was more than personal—it was structural. The balance of power in the nation had shifted, and the future was now uncertain.
<<<< o >>>>
In the Grand Chamber, the hall where it all began had been restored with haste, but the echoes of the battle remained. Mifune sat at the head, his wound freshly bandaged, his expression grave. Before him stood Renga and Tenshō.
Both had heard the same rumors.
A Silver Lady had descended in the darkest hour and saved Mifune's men.
Tenshō was pale, his fists clenched. "The reports say she arrived like a phantom. That her blade undid what even death could not. Is this true, Mifune-dono?"
Renga, visibly calmer but with dark circles under his eyes, merely added, "My men tell similar tales."
Mifune nodded solemnly. "She appeared. She fought. And she left. Who or what she is, I cannot say with certainty. But her power was real. We live because of her."
The silence that followed was thick with awe and calculation.
Then Mifune stood.
"Both of you agreed to consider my proposal. Now, with our nation scarred and weakened, I ask for your decision."
They did not argue.
Tenshō bowed stiffly. "I will honor your judgment, Mifune-dono. Let the regency stand. Let our deeds determine our worth."
Renga echoed the motion. "So be it. The lands will be divided, and we shall prove ourselves in time."
With a single nod, Mifune sealed the path forward. The war was delayed, not ended.
<<<< o >>>>
In a secluded hall, Tenshō and Kaede walked in quiet deliberation.
"You should've stayed with the original plan," Kaede said. "Let the Jashinists be exposed and then intervene as the hero. The weapons we gave them were rigged for your command. Why the change of heart?"
Tenshō smirked. "Because originally I thought this would end in a duel with my brother. But with Mifune's regency, chaos is now the battlefield. And chaos... is something I understand."
Kaede narrowed his eyes. "Even the arrival of this Silver Lady helps you?"
Tenshō's expression darkened. "No. She perplexes me. I will observe. Then act. But what surprised me more... was how capable my brother's guards were. I expected real losses on his side."
<<<< o >>>>
Renga stood in his quarters, speaking with his closest men.
"We were hit hard," he admitted.
One of his samurai nodded. "We should visit the families of the fallen before Tenshō does. Offer protection. Reassurance."
Another added, "Hiring Akatsuki wasn't cheap, but it may have saved us. Your father's old connections proved invaluable."
Renga crossed his arms, thoughtful. "What I can't understand is how a cult like Jashin infiltrated us so deeply."
<<<< o >>>>
Within the inner keep, Mifune listened to a scholar report in hushed tones.
"The cult used the servants. Some of them, likely coerced or deceived, planted talismans. These released the gas via a remote trigger. The poison... we've never seen its like. It entered through the skin. Even masks were useless."
The scholar continued, "The night guards have committed seppuku for their failure. Their honor demanded it."
Mifune was silent, then asked, "Where is Takama?"
"I believe he's in the castle garden, with his daughter. She's... mourning."
Mifune nodded. He understood. He, too, had lost a son. During the day he had to project strength to keep all those who lost someone. And while he could not mourn openly, the night would bring tears unspoken.
<<<< o >>>>
In the courtyard, Hinata sat beneath the shade of a shattered column, her kimono stained and her hands trembling.
Takama knelt beside her. He didn't speak, only placed a hand on her shoulder.
She finally whispered, "They died. So many... and Kaito... He was smiling when he saw me. He thought I came for him."
Takama didn't speak right away. He knew better than to offer hollow comfort.
"You saved him," he said quietly. "Not from death. But from fear. He died with peace in his heart. That's a gift only you could give."
Hinata wiped her tears. "His... no... all their souls... They're in the Silver World now. I wanted to give them the option of pure lands or the silver world, everyone chose the latter. I don't know if that breaks some law of balance. The Shinigami didn't resist me... but will they come for me later?"
Takama looked at her then, eyes full of quiet pride. "Perhaps. Or perhaps the world is changing to match your spirit. Either way, we face it together."
<<<< o >>>>
Elsewhere, in one of the now-empty galleries, Sasori leaned against a pillar. His hidden puppet's eye glowed faintly.
"It wasn't simple Genjutsu. I saw it through the eyes of my puppet. The way she moved... the silver light... That was no simple trick."
Deidara shrugged, arms crossed.
Sasori didn't answer immediately. His mind was still replaying the final confrontation. "I'm more concerned with how she dismantled the priest's technique," he said flatly. "That was no ordinary curse... it was the same as Hidan's. And she unraveled it."
Deidara raised an eyebrow. "With a single strike? Tch. That's nuts."
"Not a single strike," Sasori corrected. "It required direct contact, timing, and something else... Something I can't quite grasp. She cut what connected her to him, when she did it became visible for an instant... like a black thread that was cut and the tension made it retreat. She wasn't just fighting. She was judging."
He crossed his arms and added, "I saw it through my puppet's eyes. It wasn't just raw power—it was calculated. That technique should've made him unstoppable. And yet she made it look... inevitable."
Deidara clicked his tongue. "You want her for your collection."
"Perhaps," Sasori said.
<<<< o >>>>
The common folk did not understand what happened. But they felt it. They heard the rumors from the unbelieving samurai. They spoke of the Silver Lady. Of the one who came with tears in her eyes and vengeance in her hand. Rumors spread of how even death bowed before her.
Some feared her.
Others whispered prayers to her at night.
<<<< o >>>>
In the Silver World, Michel stood atop the silver tower, watching the expansion of the realm.
So many had arrived. Their bodies are dead, but their spirits are vibrant. The Silver World groaned as it grew, reshaped by their presence.
Misfune's samurai were here too now. And with them came their discipline, their legacy.
Michel sighed. "You're changing the world, Hinata. But even gods must be careful not to tear the veil that holds reality together."
He looked down as the newly arrived souls gathered in the courtyard. He saw confusion, relief, and awe. He spotted one young soul whispering about the Silver Lady who saved them, as if recounting a holy event. Michel's gaze grew more thoughtful.
"The line between salvation and idolatry is thin. Let's hope she never forgets why she fights."
<<<< o >>>>
As the sun set on a day of mourning, the fractured Land of Iron began to stitch itself back together. It would not heal easily. But it would heal.
And somewhere, in a quiet room, a girl sat beside a wolf-like dog with one eye and a heart full of grief.
And light still flickers in the Silver World.