by DB King
Jin could hardly contain his smile. “You seem surprised, father.”
The smug words came naturally, but Jin could hardly believe it. He had just performed Force Redirection, the clan’s most closely guarded technique—albeit, imperfectly, but it was close enough that it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. He, Murasaki Jin, had done the impossible and the unthinkable. Even his father, one of the greatest swordsmen in Moyatani, couldn’t boast performing such a complex skill as a three-year-old.
“That was Force Redirection… how… amazing.” Hamada’s usually stoic face broke out into a true smile. Even his eyes glimmered with warmth and barely contained pride. He laid a hand on his right shoulder. Jin’s attack obviously hadn’t done any actual damage—being a child and all. But the fact remained that he had done the impossible, the unthinkable.
Honestly, Jin could hardly believe it himself.
Hamada continued. His voice was still caught somewhere between proud and shocked. “My son is a true genius!”
It was only when he heard his father’s tachi clacking against the floor did Jin realize the gravity of his actions and, more importantly, its consequences. Before he could speak or move, Jin found himself wrapped around his father’s arms and raised up high. “Hahahaha! My son is a prodigy above all other prodigies! He will become the next Kensei!”
What?
Hamada held him forward and their eyes met. Jin’s legs dangled underneath him. His father’s voice was warmer than it had ever been. “My son, the fate of the Kensei is yours—no other man may claim it. Nay, no other being can have the title. I have seen your strength, I have seen your intelligence. You are a child now, but—in time—you will surpass all others, my son! You will become the Kensei, I am sure of it!”
Before he could reply, Hamada placed him back onto the ground. “Come, we shall meet your new sword instructor,” he said. “After that, I will take you to the Murasaki Clan Library. The future Kensei shall not be deprived of knowledge. Once you’ve toured the library, I shall take you to our treasury.”
Well, this was… kind of a good thing, he supposed. But the Kensei? Really? Even his father believed in that nonsense? The whole legend was obviously just a way to guide people to do the right thing. But… he was looking at a gift horse in the mouth. Somehow, Jin had passed his father’s test using the most incredible thing he could’ve done—and he did it in the heat of the moment. That was a success, if nothing else.
“Yes, father. Thank you for recognizing my… talents.”
Hamada smiled once more and nodded, before turning away and walking back toward the manor.
And so Jin accepted his victory. After all, if his father swelled with pride and happiness over it, then it was surely to his benefit. The Murasaki Library was a repository of any and all knowledge the clan had garnered over its two thousand years of existence. Jin wasn’t exactly sure what was inside that place, but he hoped it would contain scrolls and tomes pertaining to the magical arts. He badly needed more information about how magic functioned in this world; trial and error worked great on its own, but skipping ahead simply by reading sounded much better. After that was the Murasaki Treasury, where the clan’s wealth was stored alongside the numerous ancient artifacts from his forebears. Jin could barely contain his excitement.
Compared to the library and the treasury, his new Kenjutsu master paled in comparison.
Jin followed closely behind his father. His left arm ached immensely, as though his muscles were aflame and his bones were cracked. He wouldn’t be moving his left arm for the next few days, at the least. His execution of Force Redirection was less than stellar. I didn’t relax my muscles enough - the kinetic energy didn’t flow perfectly.
Given another month, however, Jin was reasonably certain he’d be able to master his clan’s secret technique.
Huh, I might as well embrace this whole Kensei thing if my father’s so adamant about it. After all, the myth seemed intertwined with the whole nation’s history. The founding story of every single clan in the Moyatani likely had ties to the Kensei legend. Jin wouldn’t be surprised if there were actual people out there, who would claim to be direct descendants of the Kensei.
The title held power and sway over the hearts and minds of the people—Jin’s language teacher, and father being prime examples of that. Hamada’s entire demeanor had shifted when he entertained the idea that Jin could become the next Kensei. Heck, the man had somehow convinced himself that Jin will become the next Kensei.
Logic dictated, then, that the way to get to the top, short of becoming Shogun, was to become the Kensei. At least, if that’s how it worked and there were no weird prophecies or rituals involved with the whole thing. For that matter, how was anyone supposed to recognize him as the Kensei? Would he start glowing once he received the title? Who would grant him the title? Would becoming Kensei make him more powerful or was the Kensei the peak of the path of power?
Too many questions and no answers. For now, at least, Jin would accept his father’s sincere beliefs. The man believed in him and was actually proud of him for his achievements. Jin couldn’t even remember what his mother and father looked like in his previous life. The only person who was ever proud of him was his friend, the Hollowed Knight.
Very well. I will become the greatest warrior, the wisest scholar, and the most powerful mage. I will become the Kensei.
Hamada led Jin back into the manor, where the new sword master awaited in the main hallway. Nobito No Yoritsumo didn’t look like much. Indeed, if Hamada hadn’t invited him into the manor and offered him tea, which he now drank, Jin might’ve mistaken the man for a wandering vagrant. He wasn’t exactly unclean, just… extremely plain. Then again, considering how the Feather-Moon Style functioned, this was probably his own design. He was old, probably around fifty-years old if Jin had to guess—way past his prime. His belly was bulging and creases marred his face. His head was shaved bald, and a rough beard hung down from his chin.
He smelled of smoke and earth.
Jin strode forward and bowed. “Hello, I am Jin. It is a pleasure to meet you, teacher.”
Nobito stood up, studied the boy, and took a step forward. Jin blinked, and the next he knew, there was a tanto at his throat. Hamada grabbed the hilt of his katana, but Nobito held out his other hand and laid another tanto upon Hamada’s throat, drawing a tiny trickle of blood. The old man met my eyes. “Young master, this is your first lesson: the blade of the Feather-Moon cares not for honor. It cares only for murder and death.”
He withdrew his blades and took a single step back.
I didn’t even see him move!
Chapter 5
Ever since his birth into this exotic new world, Jin had longed for a repository of knowledge with which he may gorge his mind and learn all there was to learn. The Murasaki Clan boasted one of the largest and most expansive libraries of all the Moyatani Clans, where ancient scrolls and tomes were kept and preserved. Only those of the blood of the Murasaki Clan were allowed entry. It was said that the only other library that could rival theirs was the Imperial Library at the Capital, which could only be accessed by those of Greater Noble Blood and the Shogun’s own family.
Jin had longed to enter the library for the last three years. Why wouldn’t he? Here was a place of knowledge and ancient wisdom, only a few steps away. Of course, he’d respected his father’s firm rejection when he first sought to enter the great library. After all, he didn’t even know how to read yet at the time—he couldn’t understand the letters and the numbers and the complexity of the Moyatani language. In simpler terms, Jin was unworthy.
And he respected that.
Now, however, he had proven himself to his father and to himself—at three years of age—that he was truly worthy of the honor of entering the clan library.
Finally… after all this time… all this knowledge… all of it will be mine.
Jin stood beside his father, facing a large, circular door with the face of a demon at its cent
er. Or, at least, Jin saw it as a demon with its fiery eyes and sharp teeth and the horns that jutted out of its forehead. He was almost tempted to ask his father what it symbolized, but decided against it at the last moment; he had been found worthy and, therefore, he should be smart enough to figure it out by himself. After all, that was the whole point of a library.
The door itself was thick, far thicker than any door he’d ever seen in this world, actually. It seemed to be made entirely of either metal or stone; he couldn’t quite tell how much of it was obscured by the demonic paintings and symbols upon its surface. Aside from the ugly face of the demon at its very center, there were depictions of ancient bushi near the edges, from a time when they used shields and straight swords instead of the katana. The warriors appeared to be running away from a massive swathe of flames that came from the top of the door and trailed down. The warriors were retreating and gathering around a lone figure, whose back was turned. The figure wore white robes and held a shining, silver blade.
He stood alone against the coming demon.
This must be the Kensei… and the demon must be the Asura. He noted with a faint nod. Strange. Why is the demon at the center and not the Kensei?
Hamada stepped forward and laid a hand on the face of the Asura. “The Murasaki Library is one of the clan’s most closely guarded secrets. In here is the sum total of all the knowledge collected by all our ancestors, down to the first Murasaki. The other secret lies in our treasury. You will see it soon.”
“For now,” Hamada pulled his hand away and grabbed his tanto. He turned and knelt, his gaze meeting Jin’s. “The library waits.”
Hamada offered him the short blade, and Jin grasped it with a raised eyebrow. Before he could ask anything, his father spoke. “Only those of our blood may enter; that is the law. Smear your blood onto the Asura’s maw and the door will open to you, my son.”
Jin nodded and pulled the tanto out from its scabbard and took a step forward toward the door. He raised his left hand and laid the blade flat upon his palm. With hesitation, Jin sliced open the skin of his hand and waited for blood to come flowing out of the wound. It stung a bit; this new body of his was not yet accustomed to pain, but his mind had steeled itself to agony a thousand times over—a tiny cut to his left palm was literally nothing to him.
When the first trickles of blood came forth, Jin raised his left hand and laid it flat on the Asura’s maw—again, he wasn’t sure why it was the Asura and not the Kensei; there must’ve been a pretty good reason for that, he wagered, given his father’s apparent belief in the legend, but he would find out soon enough. The demon’s eyes burst into flames the moment it tasted his blood. Though he knew it to be impossible, Jin had a strange feeling that the demon was actively watching him— how a painting was doing that, he did not quite know.
The door shuddered, puffs of dust blowing out of unseen crevices as though it had been untouched for hundreds of years. Untouched? Did father never open this thing?
Before Jin could turn and ask, Hamada spoke, “Only a Murasaki with magical blood in his veins may enter. Your grandfather and I both lacked the talent for magic. And so, for two generations, the library has lain dormant—asleep.”
Jin nodded and watched as his blood was absorbed into the painting itself. Somehow, the fires from the top of the door seemed to grow just the tiniest bit. A loud boom echoed, an unnatural force that could only have been the work of magic. It was of such power that Jin was blown backward, though he caught himself and merely rolled over his shoulder. So, the door is obviously magically enchanted, which means enchanting is possible with this world’s magic- why haven’t I tried that?
Well, there were about a thousand other possibilities running in his mind and magical enchanting was just one of them. Still, that was good to know, because that meant he wouldn’t have to put up with normal weapons all the time. Assuming enchantments worked the same way as offensive magic did, then it would follow that he’d need to shove some sort of creature into an item. Huh… what the heck did they put into this door?
Curious, Jin reached out with his senses. Whatever magic was weaved into the library door was incredibly old and incredibly powerful, but that was only at the surface. There was something far greater beneath that—far more complicated magic was at work. And so he dug deeper and—
Crimson flames flashed before his eyes and Jin recoiled immediately, pulling himself out of the door in an instant. There’s something in there.
He’d touched it only briefly, which meant he couldn’t be entirely sure, but Jin could’ve sworn he’d felt some kind of weapon lodged within the door itself.
He turned to his father, but Hamada wasn’t paying attention to him for once. Jin sighed and stood up, eyeing the demonic face with burning eyes. I wonder…
The door groaned and swung open, revealing darkened shadows on the other side. Two torchbearers hung by the sides of the doorway, but there were bluish crystals attached to them, instead of actual torches or just lamps. Well, drawing knowledge from his previous world, the crystals were most likely some kind of magically attuned light sources that relied on the touch of a mage to actually function. Going by that logic, they should light up as soon as he touched them or pumped a tiny bit of magic into them.
Well, let’s test that theory, shall we?
Jin walked forward, but stopped just before the doorway and turned over his shoulder. Was Hamada not coming inside as well?
As if sensing Jin’s unspoken query, Hamada shook his head. “You are the only one allowed in the library, my son. If I tried to enter, the magic of the door would kill me.”
Jin nodded. Well, that made some sense, he supposed; though, Jin was of the opinion that knowledge should be shared by everyone, instead of harbored and guarded. For now, however, there was absolutely nothing he could do but accept things for what they were. “Alright, father.”
Jin strode in and reached for the torchbearers. He barely reached its bottom end with the tips of his fingers, given his undeveloped stature, but that was apparently all it took. Almost instantly, the blue crystal was set alight and released a soft blue glow that immediately traveled across the darkness of the library. Jin reached up and touched the other torchbearer and watched in awe as more and more of the library was revealed.
Though there were still many light crystals waiting to be activated, much of the Murasaki Clan Library could already be seen. The whole place was divided into three floors, with stairs on the sides, leading upward. In the middle of each floor were massive bookcases, each one was twice as tall as Hamada, filled with scrolls and tomes, stacked high over each other—a veritable trove of knowledge. And there was more of it on the next floors, where the bookcases were noticeably higher and the books and the scrolls seemed far older. He couldn’t see the third floor, since much of the library remained obscured by shadows and darkness, just waiting to be lit by the blue crystals.
“This place is amazing.” He muttered absentmindedly. Though it was much smaller than his private library when he became Mage-Emperor, the Murasaki Clan Library was impressive nonetheless—even more so when this new world’s low level of technology was taken into account. Strolling on, Jin grabbed the nearest tome.
It was heavy and made mostly of thick, rough paper that likely made the tome a lot more massive than it should’ve been. His eyes fell upon the writings on the cover. The Intricacies of Beast Taming and Binding… huh, seems interesting. I’ll have to read it over when I have the time.
Jin placed it back into the bookcase and grabbed another random tome. This one had a particularly colorful cover. It was decorated with images of fires and screaming farmers. The Legend of the Asura and the Blood of Demons. Okay, I’m definitely going to read this one soon.
He put it back in and pulled out another tome. Though, he was unfortunately limited to the ones he could physically reach. Jin would’ve loved to just climb and take some of the books near the top, but that could wait until he actually started studying the to
mes and the scrolls. For now, he was simply browsing.
And the library did not disappoint. There were books about… everything; there were even tomes that detailed some ancestor’s knowledge about medicine and human physiology. There were tomes that spoke of tiny living things that caused sickness. There were tomes that detailed the creation of potions and poisons. There was even a bestiary that listed down almost every single Magical Beast, its abilities, its dietary needs, its habitat, and its behavior.
But there was one book on the top shelves that seemed to call out to him. He couldn’t reach it—not without asking Hamada for help and he couldn’t do that. Its cover was black, like obsidian and soot bound together to form a new material. It emitted a stench that was almost like brimstone, only much fainter. It was magical in nature, of that he had no doubt. But there was something… sinister about it. The book exuded a constant presence that Jin could only call “dark”.
And, if he listened very closely, Jin heard faint screams and groans crawling out of its pages, a cacophony of tortured souls all calling out to him.
His heart raced for a moment and he stayed away.
He’d met his fair share of evil, sentient books in the previous world and all of them were powerful artifacts with ancient and forbidden magical lore. The only downside to them was that they either tried to kill you by sucking your life out, possess you, curse you, or just straight up pull you into the book itself. The one thing common to them was that the power they offered wasn’t worth the trouble.
However, the magic of this new world functioned very differently and it stood to reason that this… whatever that weird tome was, also functioned differently.
