Chapter 105
Though the five fell silent at their leader’s command, they couldn’t hide the doubt in their eyes.
Saburo observed them coldly, saying: “If you have something to say, then speak.”
They exchanged looks, uncertain. Finally, one of them spoke up: “Young Master, we could have moved all the leaves while they hadn’t discovered us… Why didn’t we retreat earlier?”
“We could have avoided a direct confrontation and won without a fight…”
“Enough.” Saburo’s voice was calm but commanding as he gently shook his fan, despite the weather not being hot. “Why are you so eager to praise others and belittle yourselves? Are you afraid?”
They hesitated: “It’s not fear exactly, but… if there are safer methods. Why risk a direct confrontation?”
“Short-sighted fools.” Saburo threw his fan, creating a sharp sound.
He spoke slowly, his lips curling into a thin smile. “Did you really think you could move all those leaves undetected? Don’t forget, the Saint has the power of foresight. You wouldn’t have time to steal everything before they noticed. Isn’t that exactly what happened? Despite your careful work, Kitagawa still found this place.”
The five men seemed to understand, but not entirely.
It wasn’t a pleasant thing to hear, but… Saburo had a point. Although they had prepared for the possibility of being discovered, they hadn’t deliberately left any traces.
The mercenaries had figured it out on their own.
Saburo retrieved the fan and resumed its rhythmic swaying, muttering, “It was inevitable from the start.”
Nothing could be changed.
Sometimes Saburo felt this entire continent was just a massive stage, and every person in the world was a puppet dancing on strings. Whatever the God wanted to see, they would make happen. No one could act of their own free will.
Everyone was the same.
One of them peered out the window, then turned back: “Young Master, what should we do next?”
“What do you think?”
One suggested: “We should launch a full assault on Kitagawa.”
“Are you stupid or naïve? Even if all five of you attack together, you’re no match for her.”
“This…” The speaker was clearly unconvinced, holding back frustration.
Didn’t the Young Master just tell us not to underestimate ourselves and to stop being afraid of others?
And now he’s saying this?
Saburo gave a cold laugh: “If you don’t believe me, go down there and fight her yourself. If you can survive… no, if you can leave with just a breath of life left, I’ll let you take over command.”
Is she really that strong?!
Others tried to persuade him: “Brother, it’s Kitagawa we’re talking about. Best not to underestimate her.”
The Rose War fought in the dead of night, where the blood stained the ground and never faded, leaving the land dyed in crimson. It was a memory no one from the Eagle Kingdom could forget.
“Let’s just follow the Young Master’s orders.” Finally, all five bowed to Saburo, indicating their willingness to follow his plan completely.
Saburo raised his hand and pointed toward one of them:
“You,” he pointed to another, “do the same, but go in the opposite direction to draw Lin’s attention. Lin is a skilled archer, but she’s not good at close combat. Keep your distance—close enough to keep her occupied but far enough to avoid danger. Just make sure she doesn’t have a chance to assist Kitagawa. Got it?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“You do the same, but in the opposite direction, to attract Lin. Lin excels in archery but isn’t skilled in close combat. Just maintain a medium distance and you can handle it. Your task is to draw Lin away, or at least keep her distracted, absolutely prevent her from supporting Kitagawa, understand?”
“Understood, Young Master.”
“As for you three…” Saburo remained composed, speaking softly as he explained the next part of his plan.
***
The restaurant manager hurried to Wakako’s side, feigning composure despite his trembling hands.
“Master, those people in that room left through the back door! They were discussing something about delivering things to someone!” he whispered, “What should we do?”
By now the restaurant had been cleared of customers, though to avoid suspicion from the sudden emptiness, other staff were dressed as guests to maintain appearances.
“Which direction did they go?”
“Two of them went out, one to the west, one to the east, both carrying several bags.”
A diversion, a common tactic. But Wakako wasn’t too worried, as her master and junior sister were guarding outside. If those two were suspicious, they wouldn’t be allowed to simply leave.
“What about the others?”
“They’re still inside, I don’t know what they’re doing. I sent someone to ask if they needed anything, but they refused. Oh, they did say something strange.”
“What did they say?”
“One of them told our attendant to send greetings to Lady Kitagawa, and… something about ‘hope you’ve been well?’ Then some fancy words I couldn’t quite understand.”
None of the Eagle Kingdom’s agents knew her well enough to speak like that. Only Saburo would speak like that.
Wakako’s hand suddenly clenched. So, it was Saburo after all. It had been him leading them here all along. And now, they were walking right into his trap. But what choice did they have? If they didn’t act within the three-day time limit, they would lose this trial.
She gave a firm order and then gripped the sword at her waist: “Tell your people to withdraw from their room. Keep your distance—don’t get too close.”
“Don’t worry, master, our people have already retreated, it’s safe…”
“Oh? Safe?”
A sudden mocking laugh echoed through the air, followed by a deafening explosion.
Wakako instinctively rolled away, but the manager beside her didn’t even have time to scream before being swallowed by the explosion. The wooden table shattered into splinters, dust and debris clouding the air, making it impossible to see what was left around her.
A familiar acrid smell. Guns, again.
An unfamiliar figure in black stood high on the third-floor stairs, firing down shot after shot, seemingly endless. The tables were all flammable wood, and after exploding, sparked small fires that quickly merged into a long, thick snake of flame, spreading rapidly, devouring everything in sight.
Thick smoke billowed, choking the air and making it impossible to breathe.
Even if Wakako wanted to save the manager, she couldn’t tell where he was. Moreover, with the gunman above, they were like meat on a chopping block, waiting to be slaughtered.
Her clothes had already started to catch fire, and she quickly patted them out without hesitation. Her palm turned black, the flesh scorched by the intense heat.
“Fire! There’s a fire!”
“Help! The building’s burning!”
The restaurant’s screamed as they scrambled to escape, the flames spreading to neighboring buildings and causing even more panic outside.
The noise was deafening.
Wakako couldn’t see or hear anything clearly, but she instinctively pulled out her sword and hurled it with precision—
Thunk.
The sound of steel piercing flesh.
The gunman’s figure’s triumphant smile from a moment ago vanished as the sword pierced their stomach, pinning them to the wall, bleeding unstoppably, unable to move.
Impossible… how…? With the fire so intense, smoke rising from below, she should have been trapped in the inferno, how could she possibly see him?!
How could she throw her sword so accurately to the third floor?!
In that moment, he finally understood Saburo’s meaning. This was Kitagawa, the legendary warrior of the Rose War, able to pinpoint the source of the gunfire amidst the chaos, instantly discerning the enemy’s location and delivering a fatal strike.
The gun fell helplessly down the wooden stairs, its metal barrel burning hot from the fire. But Wakako didn’t hesitate, simply picked it up, ignoring the searing pain as it burned her fingers.
She leaped up the stairs, yanking her sword from the gunman’s body, and charged toward the room on the third floor, crashing through the door.
Inside, a man dressed in white sat calmly in the center, reading a book as if unaware of the raging fire outside. His hair was neatly tied, and his features were strangely familiar.
For a moment, Wakako was stunned.
The reason was simple—white… was a color only the Saint could wear. That hairstyle… was also exclusive to the Saint.
Back when Miki would read books and play the zither at the Saionji estate, her hair was always styled this way, with delicate locks of hair gently pinned back to avoid falling over her face, ensuring she always looked poised and dignified.
But Miki hadn’t worn her hair like this since then. Seeing it again after so long made Wakako freeze for a moment.
The same white robes, the same book, the same gentle, delicate appearance. Even the face bore a striking resemblance.
But this man wasn’t Miki.
He was only Saburo, Miki’s cousin, who shared a faint resemblance with her due to their bloodline.
He closed the book and smiled at Wakako, even standing up and twirling around as if showing off. “It’s been a while, Wakako. How do I look? Does this suit me?”
Wakako’s face remained expressionless.
Her fingers tightened around the gun, and she pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The shot went straight at Saburo, exploding with a boom that shattered the room’s furniture into pieces.
“How dare you… how dare you…” her voice was soft, but her eyes were cold, anger crystallizing into ice, “How dare you impersonate her?”
There has only ever been one Saint.
Even if he dressed the same and looked similar, he was nothing more than a counterfeit.
Suddenly, the sound of rushing wind came from behind as two figures attacked Wakako from both sides. The gun was empty, no longer of any use. She quickly turned, using the heavy metal barrel to block the incoming blades, while her left hand drew her sword to counter the second strike.
They had thought their attack would surely land, not expecting her to be skilled with her left hand.
The three weapons remained locked together, two against one, hoping to exhaust Wakako’s strength.
But in the end, it was they who numbly let go, not her.
Wakako showed no mercy, swinging the gun down heavily, striking both men in the abdomen, causing them to cough up blood. They were far more skilled than the previous gunman, but they knew continuing a head-on clash was a losing battle. Enduring the pain, they quickly separated, trying to escape.
Inwardly, they were filled with dread.
We’ve done our best to stall, Young Master. Hurry…
