Chương 29: Book 1: Chapter 10 - The Bell [Part 2]

Kurobane lifted its blood-wet muzzle and looked directly at Tarō. Stubbornly, Tarō did not apologize, but his next step took him farther from the jaws. The second run marked the animal's shoulder guard. The third left paint on Kagawa's saddle. The fourth caught the reins. Kagawa's temper worsened with each mistake.

"Watch the tail."

"If you cut my leg, I will take both of yours in payment." Kagawa decried with increasing exasperation. Ishikawa allowed the shouting because the instruction beneath it was sound. A mounted predator changed the shape of the formation. The spearmen had to leave room for its turn, read when it would pull rather than hold, and keep their points away from its hind legs.

The cutters had to trust that the animal would remain fixed upon the bait while at the same time, some primal part of them never trusted the beast completely. Shimon found Kurobane easier to read than a skilled swordsman. The animal did not feint. Its shoulders dropped before a lunge. Its tail swung wide before a turn. The hind legs gathered beneath the body before each burst of speed. The chip, his only true ally, assembled a model.

[ALLIED ORGANISM MOVEMENT PROFILE] Designation: Kurobane Type: Fukuiraptor variant Primary attack: Bite-and-hold Secondary attacks: Hind-claw rake / lateral body impact Predicted movement reliability: 84% Safe attack zones updating A translucent boundary shifted around the animal in Shimon's vision as the chip formed an augmented reality for his vision. When Kurobane pulled left, the danger zone widened around the tail. When it braced, a narrow opening appeared beside the neck and shoulder.

Shimon waited for that opening, stepped into it, and brought the wooden ōdachi down through the target's neck, and the blade stopped a hand's breadth from Kurobane's jaw. Only paint marked the straw. Kagawa examined the cut.

"Acceptable," he grunted. Things went well enough that Shimon gained a point in his Mind attribute, and the constant swinging of the oversized sword improved his Swords skill. All very useful, and by the sixth day, the five-man cell could work around Kurobane without marking beast or rider. The fukuiraptor seized and unbalanced the target. Tarō, Seki, and Fujita fixed it from the far side. Heita removed a limb, and Shimon "finished" it by taking its neck.

Things went well enough that Shimon gained a point in his Mind attribute, and the constant swinging about of the oversized sword improved his Swords skill. All very useful. Kagawa took personal credit with an arrogant smile.

"You have finally learned to stay out of a mounted warrior's way."

"We learned to stay out of Kurobane's," Seki shrugged. Kagawa turned toward him, but heavy footfalls sounded beyond the yard before he could answer. Nagai entered on a pale-brown, short-feathered predator and dismounted with the composure of a man stepping down from an ordinary horse. A handler took the reins. Training stopped. He surveyed the targets and painted weapons.

"Matsuda says your foundations are no longer insulting. Ishikawa says you can sometimes distinguish comrades from enemies. Kagawa claims everything useful accomplished here was his idea." Kagawa bowed as though this were an accurate summary.

"That will have to suffice," Nagai continued.

"Men have disappeared east of the boundary village. Woodcutters found fresh human bones near a cave. Two travelers reported strange shapes moving after dark, and someone tore down a blessed shrine rope three nights ago." The yard quieted with the news.

"We believe yōma are feeding there. You leave tomorrow morning. You hunt," the powerful man declared. Tarō's expression sharpened with anticipation. Several others looked equally pleased. Training offered bruises and correction; a successful hunt offered greater reward, standing, and a chance to prove themselves. However, Shimon felt no excitement, for he only wanted the drills to just be a little less taxing. He was deciding that inaction, no matter how strenuous, was much preferred to excitement.

"Three condemned criminals will accompany us," the commanding man remarked offhandedly.

"Blood and recent death draw yōma. We will provide both." Heita looked up, Kagawa gave a thin-slipped smile, and no one challenged the order. The senior retainer looked them all in the eye.

"Prepare your armor. The shrine will receive the unit before sunset. No one departs without purification." Chief Priest Imbe Noritsuna's shrine stood on a wooded rise beyond the northern edge of town. The path to it climbed through cedar and evergreen oak. Weathered stone lanterns marked the final approach. A shimenawa stretched between two old trees near the entrance, the braided rope thick as Shimon's wrist, white paper streamers stirring beneath it.

The warriors rinsed their hands and mouths at a stone basin before entering the worship hall. Aya waited inside with several assistants. Her dark hair was bound neatly behind her, and the white sleeves of her kosode framed her hands as she arranged paper, brushes, ink, salt, hemp cord, and narrow wooden slips on low tables. Shimon tried not to stare, but somehow Tarō annoyingly noticed anyway.

"She has looked at you twice," he jibed.

"You should speak to her."

"We are preparing to hunt demons," Shimon hissed back.

"That gives you a subject. Common ground." Chief Priest Noritsuna entered before Shimon could strike the other man. Today, the priest wore white beneath pale-blue outer robes. He bowed toward the sanctuary, clapped, and began the rite. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Noritsuna recited the norito in a formal cadence older than ordinary speech.

Thanks to the chip's growing translation function, he understood much of the vocabulary but not what the true meaning of the words carried. The priest named pollution, misfortune, crooked acts, unseen offenses, and the powers asked to bear them away. An assistant passed among the kneeling warriors with salt. Each man received a pinch in his hands and let it fall. Noritsuna took up the ōnusa and swept the paper-and-hemp streamers left, right, and left over the line. But as they passed above Shimon, the air changed.

[UNKNOWN CARRIER SIGNAL DETECTED] Signal Strength: Low-Moderate Pattern: Structured / Ambient Multiple sources suspected His hands tightened into a fist, even as he saw Heita shudder across the row. The movement was small, but Shimon still saw it. After the purification, Aya distributed writing materials. The warriors had already practiced the nine syllables under Noritsuna and Abbot Ryōzen: the hand seals, the spoken formula, and the nine cuts traced through the air with two extended fingers. Rin. Pyō. Tō. Sha.

Kai. Jin. Retsu. Zai. Zen. Noritsuna had warned them that the gestures meant little without correct breath, concentration, and transmission. Ryōzen had put it more simply.

"A monkey may wear prayer beads. It remains a monkey." They were now to combine the kuji with written jūji: crossed signs and characters copied onto paper charms. The slips would be folded into armor, tied to spear shafts, or fastened inside helmets. Aya knelt before them and demonstrated.

"Do not paint the character. Write it with purpose. Each movement must lead into the next." Her brush descended, crossed, and closed the smaller marks around the center. Shimon watched her wrist while the chip recorded the movement. [CALLIGRAPHIC COMPARISON ACTIVE] The character itself was simple. His other teacher Ueda Sōan had made him copy worse. What troubled him was the carrier signal. It strengthened whenever Noritsuna spoke a syllable or one of the warriors completed a seal.

Yet, something now about the process felt different. It felt like a connection opening through his bones. Shimon dipped his brush. Rin. He formed the first seal. Pyō. His fingers shifted. Tō. Pressure gathered behind his eyes, and he looked toward the corner of the hall. Yet, nothing stood there. Only sunlight lay across the floor, cedar branches moving beyond the open doors. Something had nevertheless found the line.

[UNKNOWN CARRIER WAVE] Signal Strength: HIGH Connection state: ACTIVE Foreign pattern detected The supernaturally attuned Heita inhaled sharply, causing the brush to tremble in Shimon's hand. Then, words entered his skull without sound. You should know better than to call to others when you are mine. Shimon stopped breathing. Around him, brushes continued to move. Noritsuna corrected another warrior's fingers. I do not like to share.

[HOSTILE PRESENCE DETECTED] [COGNITIVE INTRUSION] [UNKNOWN CARRIER WAVE: CRITICAL] Shimon tried to release the brush. His hand would not obey.

"I didn't know," the young man whispered in English. Aya looked up quizzically, and Tarō turned toward him with a look that spoke volumes. Shimon gave a nervous smile.

"I wasn't calling you. I was practicing." These little signs are bells. Amusement pressed against the stranger in a strange world's thoughts. The priests ring them and wonder what listens. The mountain men ring them. The monks ring them. Old women scratch at doors with bones and smoke. Against his will, the brush rose. They call to us. They welcome us.

"I didn't know," Shimon whispered. You know now. His wrist moved and the brush drew a line beside Aya's careful jūji. It crossed the center, curved where it should have remained straight, and doubled back into a shape his eyes could not hold. [UNAUTHORIZED MOTOR ACTIVITY DETECTED] Motor control conflict: Severe User override: Unsuccessful Shimon pulled against his own arm. The brush continued with smooth certainty. The pattern resembled kuji-kiri until it did not. Nine cuts became ten.

The final stroke opened the design instead of closing it, something terribly wrong painted in black. Near him, Matsunaga made a strangled sound, but not one paid him any heed. Shimon's fingers folded into a seal Noritsuna had never taught. I will teach you mine instead. Orange light spread across his vision. YOU HAVE LEARNED A NEW SPELL. Occult Art Acquired: THE CLOSED GATE Occult [1] learned. Spirit attribute reduced by 1. Body attribute reduced by 5. 34 experience gained.

The biochip covered the notification with fresh warnings. [HOSTILE PRESENCE DETECTED] [UNKNOWN CARRIER WAVE: CRITICAL] [AUTONOMIC STRESS RESPONSE: EXTREME] The brush stopped as the young man felt a weakness possess him. Shimon stared at the black pattern of his creation. Aya had gone pale, and Noritsuna stood rigid beside the sanctuary. Tarō gripped Shimon's shoulder and spoke to him, but the words reached him only as noise. There was only one question that mattered.

"Can you get me home?" he asked in English. Yes. His eyes watered. He hated that a single word could do that.

"How?" Do as I say. He felt something vast moved beyond the connection. Follow your destiny, and I will open the road. Shimon tried to ask what that meant, then the weakness took him and the floor rose up to meet him.