Scouting, counter-scouting, infiltration, counter-infiltration, theft, guarding, stealth, and counter-stealth—dry on paper, but the big shots found the demonstrations riveting, devouring most of Reisen Riou's fruit and nut stash. "This is Inazuma's underbelly?" Raiden Makoto mused. "Fascinating."
Reisen Riou gave a wry smile. "Hardly glamorous, Lady Makoto. In the shadows, getting caught means death. Spies and ninja have high mortality rates, and survivors rarely stay in the game." His ties to the Tenryou Commission gave him insight into their gritty world.
The professional assessments were grim—only Bankaku Nisei passed in guarding and counter-stealth. A five-star for a reason, his talent outshone the four-star ronin. Dawn broke as the tests wrapped; Reisen Riou assigned the rest and trudged back to work with Makoto and the others. Another day in the life of a relentless Shogunate workhorse. He toyed with mandating holidays but dismissed it—Inazuma's volatile state, plagued by monsters and fiends, demanded constant vigilance. With Khaenri'ah's shadow looming, rest was a luxury; strength was the priority.
Raiden Ei, the Imperial Shadow Warrior, had little downtime now, training the Okuzumeshu alongside Reisen Anko. Their rotation drills showed results—Reisen Riou noted their sharper spirit compared to before. "The scholars are settling in," he said, scanning reports. "Acclimation issues are fading, and soil optimization's progressing across regions. Wonder what this year's taxes will look like."
"Higher than last," Makoto grinned, thrilled by Inazuma's growth.
Torachiyo, meanwhile, sulked over paperwork. Makoto chuckled, soothing her. Last night, spotting Reisen's aerial platform, Makoto had whisked everyone to see it, leaving Torachiyo, dozing briefly, forgotten. Waking to an empty Tenshukaku hit the oni girl hard. Worse, she couldn't fly to join them. Reisen Riou smirked, pondering a boost for her. Torachiyo's raw strength rivaled Ei's in bursts, but her spellcraft was nonexistent, her archery weak, and her elemental control abysmal. Like Reisen Riou, she excelled in strengths but flopped in weaknesses—her spell aptitude was practically negative, worse than his early swordsmanship. "Air combat via raw strength is doable," he mused. "I'll dig up some methods for her."
Tsurumi Island, veiled in eternal fog, once the Thunderbird's domain. A ship slipped through the haze, docking at a crumbling pier—a relic of past visitors.
"This is as far as we go," the boatman told a knight in ornate armor.
"No deeper?" the knight frowned.
The boatman gave a bitter smile. "This is the deepest we can manage, thanks to Narukami's protection. Beyond, the fog swallows everything. Previous teams ignored warnings, pressed on, and vanished—nothing left. We started with three ships; I'm the last with Tsurumi's charts. If I'm lost, Khaenri'ah loses its shot at Tsurumi's ancient secrets."
The knight, silenced by the oppressive mist, nodded. "Fine. If we push deeper, leave a few men here. You'll check back with supplies?"
"Regularly," the boatman agreed.
The knight signaled to activate the Tillers for unloading. "Should we proceed?" a plain-armored subordinate asked.
The knight turned to a bespectacled Khaenri'ahn archaeologist. "Expert, your call."
"Find the old camps first," the expert said after a pause. "But safety comes first. Set up a base here and explore slowly. With Tillers, we won't wipe out like the others."
"Base it is," the knight ordered. "Move! Help the Tillers unload!"
Scholars and subordinates hustled. The boatman and crew departed, their ship fading into the fog within a minute, as if it never existed.