“We apologize for the intrusion. We do not want to frighten you.” One of the group of about seven or so people said, taking a step into the dungeon and bowing before the prisoners. All of them were dressed in ornate Shimajimese clothing, worn only by high-ranking members of the society. Anwen looked to Ivan before translating. The man looked at the strange visitors with suspicious eyes, trying to read their body language as best he could. They seemed genuine to him, comparing their tones to their eye contact and open arms, suggesting that they were being honest.

  “I think they’re being honest,” Ivan confirmed. “But even the Shogun appeared that way at first. What did they say?”

  Anwen translated the visitors’ greeting aloud, but Ivan shook his head.

  “Tell them we want nothing to do with them unless it’s getting us out of this place. We need to get a deal done with the Shogun as well as compensation for hurting us.”

  Anwen translated Ivan’s request. In response, all of the visitors bowed deeply, their backs so flat that one could place a cup of full water on them and not have it spill. And with those bows, they spoke.

  “We did not come here on behalf of the dictator,” Anwen translated shortly after. “We may have similar interests and would be honoured to help you get what you want.”

  “A… dictator?” Rohan wondered. “Who are these people, first of all? Ask them that, Anwen.”

  Anwen complied and the spokesman for the visitors spoke whose words entered the Yeupisian’s ears through Anwen’s lips.

  “We are a small alliance of nobles opposed to the Shogun’s rule. Our goal is to remove him from power and return it to the rightful ruler of our islands. Daisuke-dono is our king, but only in name. We have tried for many years to overthrow the Shogun’s system of rule, but he has a monopoly over all Shinpitekenaishi on these islands. It’s heavily guarded and has been for this past millennium. Every man who has been selected to become Shogun becomes the sole master of Shinpitekenaishi and every single one has used it to keep his people from fighting back against his rule. They've used this to horde power, resources, and wealth while keeping the regions outside of Iwasoto poor and weak.”

  As Anwen spoke those words, everything began to make sense. The contrast between Yakuramoto and Iwasoto, the powerlessness Genichi had before Daisuke, the hold the Shogun had on his lords via his fanatic soldiers. She believed the words she was interpreting.

  “Who is this king?” Rohan wondered. “We won’t believe a word you say until you bring him to us. And where are my sailors? Ivan, do you sense that Reserve coming from these fellas?”

  As Anwen translated Rohan’s request to the so-called alliance, Ivan answered.

  “I… do Detect Reserve,” Ivan said, exhaling deeply. “Stefan?”

  “I’m ready.” Stefan responded, ready to jump into action at any time. This had to be a trick, but he could not act too soon.

  The visitors parted to make room for someone behind them to enter the room. It was a samurai, a guard indistinguishable from any other of the Shogun’s men. His face was covered in a somen helmet. The man took a knee and removed his helmet, revealing the face of a man only two or three years older than Ivan.

  “I apologizeth f'r coming to thee in this estate, but mine own nameth is Asashihoro no Kaito. I am a directeth descendant of the lasteth King who is't did hold true might and I am his heir. As f'r thy fellow travelers, those gents art in oth'r cells in this facility. They're all safe.” The young guard spoke old Yeupisian in the same way Daisuke spoke, indicating his very high social privileges.

  “How do we know that?” Stefan asked. “You’re clearly dressed in a guard’s uniform, and you have Reserve.”

  “I am quite acknown, sir. Mine own family hath at each moment known their rightful placeth and has't sent their eldest sons to the Shogun's Arm f'r generations to try and taketh backeth the seat of power from within. We've hath kept our lineage a mystery from that gent. I holdeth the title of Commandeth'r, so all the guards in this constructing currently art safe to trust.”

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  “He ain’t try to kill us yet,” Manisha pointed out, sensing sincerity from the young Shimajimese man. “But what proof do you have that you’re on our side?”

  “This. T belongs to one thee, I believeth.”

  One of Kaito’s noble allies handed him a bladed weapon, bound in its sheath.

  “Ain’t that… Gareth’s dagger?” Manisha spoke with a gasp.

  “You brought a weapon all the way out here, Stefan?” Ivan pondered, Manisha’s eyes leading him to question the only person who could do such a thing.

  Stefan touched his abdomen to confirm the blade’s location. The one Kaito held was indeed the one Manisha had gifted him, taken off of him as he was being detained.

  “I can explain,” Stefan said, trying his best to hide his panic. “I never intended to use it. I just needed to keep it close by. You understand how important a soldier’s weapon is to him, don’t you?”

  “Hold that thought, Stefan,” Ivan raised a hand, before turning to Kaito. “So, Your Highness, what you propose is that we help you depose the Shogun in exchange for…?”

  “Liberating thee from this cell, dispatching thee reinforcements and delivering much-needed technology. Both of us has't ev'rything to acquisition. Prithee, giveth t some thought. We shall beest backeth shortly and wouldst liketh to heareth from thee—”

  Before the alliance of nobles could even think to turn around and shut the door, Ivan reached a hand out.

  “Wait! W-We accept that deal, Your Highness. You exercise your right to the throne, and we get the help we desperately need. We really have nothing to lose from this deal. Isn’t that right?”

  The three southerners nodded in agreement, while his two Black Shield comrades were more hesitant.

  “This is a peace mission, Ivan. Are you really sure we want to fight the Shogun and his men?”

  “It’s a mission for peace,” Ivan spoke somewhat aggressively. “And to achieve that, we might need to rough people up. But we won’t be dealing with the Shogun anymore, and these people here want this deal more than him. Stefan, what do you say?”

  “I… I don’t know.” Stefan sighed.

  “Sooner or later, you’ll have to decide. You’re the one the Shogun wants. What happens from now on is dependent on you. You’re the one with the blade, not us. But Your Highness,” Ivan turned back to the claimant to the Shimajimese throne. “There is no rational reason to not accept your offer. We’ll take it.”

  Without smiling, and with a look of humility, Kaito bowed again.

  “Eke, then. H're is the planeth.”

  --

  The ‘Grand’ in Iwasoto Grand Arena was indeed an understatement. From front to end, the size it took up was greater than most settlements in North Yeupis. Each of its 40 rows could hold a greater number of people than the entire population of Marius. But the greatest part of it was the field at the centre of its rectangular, curved-corner structure, illuminated by several great floodlights. It itself could hold several dozen Derban’s worth of space, and then some. Just how was this space being used? Mostly for games, or performances by musicians who sung and played ballads of praise for the Shimajimese nation. This game, if it could even be called that, was far different than any played in it before.

  Flanked by a guard on each side, Daisuke walked to a podium at the centre of the field. Massive television screens displayed a zoomed-in live broadcast so that the thousands of civilians in the stands and across Shimajima could watch him up close in entire glory. He wore a sokutai, making his presence even more bold.

  “My dear subjects! I am ever so grateful for your presence today! Today, I would like to share with you something that occurred two days ago. You may have noticed that the barrier you hadn’t gone one day without seeing no longer rests above your heads!” the Shogun spoke loudly and with pride into the mic in front of his face in his native language. “And there is a reason for it that even I, the great leader of this wondrous nation, could never have predicted! The arrivals of people from beyond the sea that surrounds us. Foreigners from the Continent have arrived, seeking to create relations with our glorious nation. It is an occurrence that we welcome with open arms. However, it is no surprise that none of the attempts in the past millennium to access our homeland were successful, even by the extraterrestrials. So for that reason, I will have our visitors prove their strength by sparring against I, the strongest and most fierce of our nation. And, without further ado, please welcome their representative to the field!”

  Two more guards entered the field, trailing a man who was far taller and sturdier in frame than had been seen in centuries in the islands. Most of his body was covered in various pieces of armor put together from different sets to accommodate his size, but his head and face were obscured, covered in a cloth sack. He was walked to one end of the field, while the Shogun took to the other end. The young man’s heart beat heavy in his chest. It was not a question of whether he would win or lose, but rather, if he would have to draw blood or not.