Sora slid into a crouch next to the fainted men with the grace of a jungle cat, waving a slab of salted beef under Nogi’s nose like a magical talisman.
“Wakey-wakey, warrior-corpses,” Sora chirped, his grin sharp.
“The Master doesn’t like his road blocked by people who aren’t breathing.
It’s bad for the feng shui of his nap.” The efect was violent.
Nogi’s eyes didn’t just open; they practically exploded with life.
He sat up with a gasp, his hand instinctively snatching the meat before he even realized he was conscious.
Beside him, Masaru let out a low, guttural groan, his nose twitching as he dragged himself back from the brink of the void.
Shizuka stood over them, her hand still trembling on her hilt.
Watching her lethal brothers stuff their faces with such tragic, hilarious desperation brought a flicker of relief to her golden eyes.
“Slow down, you idiots,” she muttered.
Inside the carriage, Yui watched with wide eyes.
“He…
he actually helped them,” she whispered.
“He hates ‘noise,’ Yui,” Emiko replied serenely, pouring a fresh cup of tea.
“Hungry people are loud.
Filling their stomachs is just Jee-shahn’s way of ensuring his own silence.” Jee-shahn leaned further out the window, his chin resting in his palm.
His azure eyes were heavy with boredom as he watched the color return to the brothers’ faces.
“Are you done?” Jee-shahn rumbled.
“You don’t look like hunters.
If I’m correct, you’re Rōnin, aren’t you?” Nogi stood, ofering a stif, respectful bow.
“It seems you’ve saved our lives.
If you need any help, you need only ask.” Jee-shahn chuckled, a dark, vibrating sound.
“I don’t ‘need’ anything.
But you’re interesting enough to justify the wine.
Who are you?” “I am Nogi Maresuke,” the brother replied, regaining his sharp edge.
“Beside me is my brother Masaru, and our sister Shizuka.
We travel to hone the skills our Master taught us.” “Interesting,” Jee-shahn drawled.
“But I’m in a hurry.
I’m seeking the Temple of Eternal Light.
I heard there’s enough peace there for a proper eternal cultivation.” He looked at the three siblings.
“So, can you move from my path, Silver Sword and your ghosts?” Shizuka blinked, her expression turning flat.
She slowly pointed a finger to the left.
“The Temple…
is right there.” The entire carriage crew turned their heads.
Looming just off the road were the magnificent white marble arches of the Temple of Eternal Light, the sanctuary of the Gold Star Dragon—the god of beauty and love.
It was a place where the grass was trimmed with scissors and every monk looked like they spent four hours a day polishing their own skin.
Jee-shahn’s eyes widened in a rare moment of shock.
“Sora…” Sora, perched on the roof, began sweating in pure terror.
“Y-yes, Master?” “Did I not tell you,” Jee-shahn’s voice dropped into a terrifying, low vibration of anger, “that our main motive was to reach this temple for my relaxation?
How did you miss a giant white marble building?” “M-Master!
My eyes!
They must have blurred for a moment!” Sora squeaked, wishing he could vanish into the luggage.Jee-shahn let out a groan that sounded like a rusty gate.
“Stairs?
I don’t do stairs.
Sora, if this temple doesn’t have an elevator, I’m turning the High Priest into a footstool.” The Arrival of the Beast As the carriage pulled to a stop at the base of the temple, the massive gold-leaf doors swung open.
A procession of monks in flowing yellow silks emerged, led by the High Priest, a man whose forehead was so polished it reflected the afternoon sun like a mirror.
“Welcome, travelers, to the Sanctuary of Beauty!” the Priest proclaimed, raising a jeweled staf.
“We have sensed a powerful…
presence.
Is it the arrival of a new saint?” The carriage door opened.
Jee-shahn stepped out, his 7-foot monster frame unfolding like a gathering storm cloud.
His silver hair was a chaotic mess, his clothes were wrinkled from “cultivation,” and he held a half-empty bottle of wine as if it were a holy relic.
The Azure Lizard on his head let out a sharp hiss at the Priest’s shiny staf.
The monks gasped, their serene expressions shattering into looks of pure horror.
This wasn’t a saint—this was a disaster in human skin.
“I’m not a saint,” Jee-shahn rumbled, his voice shaking the flower petals from the trees.
“I’m a man who’s had a very long ride.
I heard your God likes beauty.
Personally, I think this place would look more beautiful with a giant sofa right where that altar is.