kscans

Chapter 35 - The Town of Kyo

Soma wondered what kind of person held power in the shadows of this country. He imagined they were likely no saint, but they couldn't be incompetent either. The nation wasn't being invaded by its neighbors, its domestic affairs were in order, and a glance at the Tower was enough to see their architectural skill was superb. A country with advanced architecture often excelled in other areas as well—military power, food self-sufficiency, commerce, academia, resources, and production, for example. If all those elements were circulating smoothly, then the nation's leader must be worthy of the title. But why, then, was this leader not widely known to the people? The answer was beyond Soma's grasp.

"And what am I to do when I meet this person?"

"I do not know."

"...Excuse me?"

"I was simply told to send for the finest swordsman in the East." Soma scowled openly.

"You just followed their orders without even knowing the purpose?"

"Because I cannot defy them."

"Why not?"

"The Emperor is the pillar of this nation. It is our duty to exhaust ourselves for the country's sake. His words are spoken only for the good of the nation. Therefore, we must listen." Soma was stunned.

"So, choosing the best swordsman in the East is for the good of the country?"

"The Emperor commands an army. The Emperor's soldiers are the nation's soldiers. A strong swordsman is needed, not unwanted."

"...And I'm to be a pawn in that army?" Soma shot Razan a glare, a defiant smirk on his face. His expression seemed to say, What's the point of earning the honor of being the best swordsman in the East if I'm just going to be used by some shadowy figure? I'll never see the light of day. Seeing the look in his eyes, which spoke louder than words, Razan gave a wry smile.

"If you do not go to Kyo, you only get half the prize money. You could take the honor and half the prize, and carve out your own path. But one look at Kyo, and you'll change your mind. I doubt you'll regret getting a glimpse of the heart of the nation."

*

One month later. Just as Razan had said, Soma's perspective was completely transformed as he looked down upon Kyo from a high hill. A majestic landscape unfolded below, a cityscape of vermilion hues and orderly streets on a scale that was utterly overwhelming. It blossomed before him, far surpassing his wildest imagination. His heart trembled at the beauty and presence of a place that was truly worthy of being called the center of the nation.

"Incredible..." As the words of awe escaped Soma's lips, Razan, Saimon, and their three attendants nodded beside him. It was only natural for the Tower Master to personally escort the swordsman chosen by the Emperor's decree, and for attendants to follow, but Saimon had come along of his own volition. Soma was now, in name and in reality, the greatest swordsman in the East, but it wasn't yet decided if he would serve in Kyo. The Emperor might not take a liking to him, or Soma himself could very well turn down the offer. If that happened, Saimon saw it as a golden opportunity to pull him into his own dojo. That was right. He had no intention of giving up on a swordsman of Soma's caliber after just one or two refusals. It was a matter of pride and persistence for a man who had lived by the sword, as a dojo master and an instructor. Just as Shintaro and Soma had their dreams, so too did Saimon. His was "to produce a first-class swordsman from his own dojo whose name would thunder across the nation." In other words, to make the world know the splendor of the Hokura style. But he was growing old and didn't have the time to train someone from scratch. It was a shortcut, then, to forge an already excellent swordsman. Of course, the ideal was to train a student from boyhood, instilling the Hokura style into the very marrow of his bones, but if things always went as planned, no one would ever struggle. So, Saimon had looked for a compromise. Soma fit that compromise perfectly. He had more than enough power; all that was needed was to correct his rough edges and have him learn the Hokura style. There was no one else as ideal as him. Saimon believed that no matter where he looked, he would never find another swordsman who could make his dream a reality.

But contrary to Saimon's hopes, Soma's heart pounded even harder as he set foot in the city of Kyo. Learning the Hokura style was the furthest thing from his mind. People came and went in numbers that rivaled the Eastern Capital, shops lined the streets, and the city overflowed with life and splendor. And yet, amidst the atmospheric scenery, a clear sky stretched over everything like a vast ceiling. It was a place where one could be in a developed city and still feel an unbelievable sense of openness. That was the city of Kyo. This openness was achieved by designing the buildings to be lower than average, making the roads wider, and ensuring a clear view across the entire city. And since the sky wasn't obstructed by buildings, allowing one to see from one end to the other, the effect was twofold.

"The Tower and this city were both designed by an Emperor. Not the current one, of course, but their techniques have been faithfully passed down," Razan explained to Soma. Contrary to Saimon's designs, Razan desperately wanted Soma to take a liking to Kyo. The Emperor would not overlook a swordsman with skills bordering on Divine Possession. But it would be troublesome if the swordsman himself put up a fuss. No matter how much they wanted him as a pawn, the Imperial Court had no reason to forcibly detain an unwilling man. They weren't that desperate for manpower, and Miyake, though old, was still strong enough to serve. They wouldn't be shaken by one man's refusal. If that happened, only Razan would lose face. But then Razan glanced at Soma's face and gave a wry smile, realizing he had been worrying for nothing. Soma was completely captivated by Kyo, Razan's explanation going in one ear and out the other. It seemed Soma had understood, without needing to be told, just what an honor it was to live in Kyo and serve the Imperial Court.

As they passed through the palace gates, Soma's eyes widened even further. He was captivated by the magnificent continuity of vermilion tiles and pillars. They were beautiful to anyone who saw them, but Soma seemed to have a particularly strong sensitivity to beauty in form. In his eyes, the curve of the roofs was like a surging wave, and the rows of pillars like a tranquil forest.

"...Amazing. To think something like this could be created." Razan replied with a triumphant look.

"The work of a god, wouldn't you say?"

And so, Soma finally entered the audience chamber and came face to face with the Emperor... but it goes without saying that his eyes narrowed into a sharp scowl. For the sake of appearances, he was sitting in the formal seiza position next to Razan, but before bowing his head, he whispered a question.

"Is he human?" Razan's lips twisted into a smirk.

"Who can say?" At this, the two men flanking the Emperor, Miyake and Nanafushi, reprimanded them.

"Silence! That is disrespectful!" Razan and Soma wore expressions that said, Oops, and bowed their heads in unison.

"As promised, I have brought the finest swordsman in the East," Razan announced quickly, stating the purpose of their visit. Beside him, a flustered Soma spoke.

"It is an honor to meet you for the first time. My name is Kawahara Soma." The Emperor touched the tip of his closed fan to his lips and nodded.

"I have received word. He seems to be a promising young man, does he not, Miyake?" Miyake pulled a cloth from his robe and wiped the sweat from his neck.

"Well..."

"...A rather lukewarm response."

"Ah, no, not at all."

"No, you are thinking it. You are wondering why I had the Tower Master select the finest swordsman from the East and send him here," the Emperor said, staring fixedly at Miyake.

"If you already know, then please, tell me."

"Why, I thought I'd have him spar with you a bit." Miyake was shocked, and both Razan and Soma couldn't help but look up.

"What is your intention?" Miyake asked. The Emperor laughed defiantly.

"Did you not say you wanted a successor?"

"Th-that's true. But..."

"I cannot give you my son-in-law. So we have no choice but to find a new one, do we?" Everyone reacted to the Emperor's words, but Razan, in particular, seized on one phrase.

"Son-in-law...? Has Princess Shion decided on a partner?" The Emperor glanced at Razan, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"He is a troublesome man, but there is no other like him. Shion is quite fond of him, and I have taken a liking to him as well."

"Is that so? Congratulations." Razan bowed his head respectfully. Then, as he raised it again, he asked, "And when is the wedding?" The Emperor looked away with a sour expression.

"The groom will decide. More importantly, your name was Kawahara Soma, correct? What say you? Do you have the nerve to test your skills against this Miyake?" Soma glanced at Miyake. He was in his mid-sixties, but his back was ramrod straight, he was muscular, and he was tall. He seemed to be quite a formidable opponent.

"What's in it for me if I fight?" To this frank question, the Emperor answered with a laugh.

"If you defeat Miyake and prove yourself worthy of being his successor, you can seize the second-highest position of power in this country. Above the Tower Masters of the East and West. I think the reward is more than sufficient."

"And if I lose?"

"You may live as you please. Serve in the palace and aim to be a general, or return to the East and live as a mere swordsman. The choice is yours."

Of course, Soma accepted. He couldn't dream of losing, and no matter how skilled his opponent was, he was an old man. He already understood how important it was to succeed here. There was no reason at all to refuse. He would seize the heart of the nation. He would look down upon this beautiful palace and city from a great height. As soon as he left the audience chamber, Soma looked up at the sky, his heart racing with excitement. He had never intended to end his life as a mere swordsman. His heart danced at this heaven-sent opportunity. Little did he know that the day would come when he would burn the image of a bird, soaring in that high sky, into his memory.