Huh?
I feel the coarseness of the ground below me… sand?
The salty smell of the ocean wafts across my nose.
It would've been really peaceful… if not for the sounds of metal hitting metal—shrieks and yells, explosions and sparks.
Sounds of war.
…I'm on a battlefield again?
Another dream?
I look around. On our side, there are about a hundred martial artists, each wielding weapons of all types. All of them wear black, with a familiar golden flower crest on their backs.
Kinzoku, I think.
The other side wears blue garbs, but their martial arts styles vary wildly from person to person.
They also bear a crest, though I don't quite recognize it—an orange shape, like a tsunami.
Thankfully, not Kandrian.
Remembering my last dream, I look around for familiar faces.
My sisters… aren't here. Like last time. Still, I keep my eyes peeled.
This… feels more like a nightmare. Fortunately, this time I'm lucid.
I spot someone bearing the Kinzoku crest, smothered by multiple foes.
Ah—Katsui!
He's actually doing well, even while fighting five people at once. He hasn't even used his Divine Arsenal.
Judging by the destructiveness of the fight, they must all be Martial Apprentices too.
I could do nothing…
…But I might as well help him, right? It's a dream, after all.
I leap toward them, aiming for one of his attackers.
"Katsui! Here comes your savio—"
BAM
A massive blow slams into my ribs, sending me flying toward the ocean.
I can't breathe.
Wait.
…Fuck, this isn't a dream??
I skip across the water like a stone. At this speed, the sea feels like fucking concrete.
Then, finally, I sink.
Ah…
So peaceful.
Suddenly, something yanks me back above the surface.
I hear a familiar voice.
"Brother-in-law, that was close! You almost broke the rules!"
Huh?
That voice? That stupidly handsome, annoyingly cheerful voice?
I finally open my eyes.
"Hideyoshi?"
He's holding me aloft with the tip of his naginata.
I groan. "What the hell hit me?"
"Oh. I did," he says apologetically. "I had to. Otherwise, you would've faced severe consequences."
"…Wait. Where even are we? I thought I was dreaming."
Then memory slams back into me.
That night, my capsule was stolen, and it took me all night scouring the forest to confirm it.My cover is blown. Merun is an alien. Fuck my life—why didn't I hide it better?Stronger beings could be after me!
When I went home, I saw it—suspicious people entering my house.
Fuck.
It's them.
How dare they go after my family?
Am I too late??
I quickly took care of the two bickering squires with surprise strikes to their chins, using my Divine Arsenal.
Then I charged through the door… and felt it.
A suffocatingly heavy killing intent aimed straight at me.
My instincts screamed. My tail warned—no, begged me—to run.
I forced myself not to back away.
If I didn't strike, I'd lose my will to do so.
After all, it's my family.
I lunged at her, and it seemed my tail was right.
My attack was easily blocked—
—and then she knocked me out cold.
Fuck.
What now?
Is my family safe?
I stare at Hideyoshi, who seems to be patiently waiting for me to finish whatever storm was in my head.
"Where's my family?" I roar, my rage flaring.
He immediately places a hand on my shoulder.
"Calm down, brother. They're safe back in Owari," he says evenly. "The guest you attacked was my master."
I freeze.
"…Master?"
"Yup. She's been my master since I was young."
He scratches his head.
"Katsui's too, apparently. I didn't know that either."
Then he laughs.
"Anyway, thanks to you, Niwa and Takigawa are fighting extra hard today!"
"…Who?" I blink. "Wait—what's happening?"
I also realize something absurd.
"Are you… walking on water?"
"Oh. This?" Hideyoshi looks down. "One of the things Master forced me to learn. Wouldn't it be pitiful to be useless when fighting at sea?"
"Are you Naruto?"
"Sorry? I don't know that fellow," he muses, then starts jogging toward the shore with me in tow.
"Anyway, we're at a northern beach—a small fishing village near Odani."
He gestures at the battlefield.
"This is a state-sanctioned war over clan ownership of the village. We're fighting the Mizunori Clan."
"Master is somewhere overseeing things. Me, Katsui, Niwa, and Takigawa are participating."
He smiles.
"Oh. And you as well!"
"What?!" I protest as he finally sets me down by the beach. My ribs still ache like hell. "Why am I here?"
"Payment," he replies cheerfully. "For attacking my master and her guards. She says."
…That's fair.
Seeing me wince, he sighs.
"Sorry again for hitting you. We didn't expect you to jump straight into battle the moment you woke up—no questions asked."
He pauses.
"Well… I personally like the thirst for battle, but just not toward Martial Apprentices, alright?"
"…Why not?"
For the first time, his smile fades.
"Brother-in-law," he says seriously, gripping my shoulder, "don't tell me you're the type who bullies the weak?"
"Martial Apprentices fight Martial Apprentices. Squires fight Squires. Masters fight Masters."
"It's not just dishonorable and boring, but also illegal and frowned upon by the entire Martial Community."
"If you'd struck that Martial Apprentice earlier, Martial Masters would've had justification to squash you like a bug—with no consequences."
I sweat.
Shit. I was that close to death?
"That's all great," I say slowly, "but I'm not a Martial Squire."
He sighs.
"You joke too much, brother."
"No. Really. I'm not even a Martial Apprentice yet."
For the first time, he looks genuinely annoyed.
Then—
Realization.
His face brightens.
"Brother is too humble. I guess one is always just a simple Martial Artist in the end, huh?" he laughs. "Come! We have a battle to attend!"
He vanishes in a blur toward the shore.
I gulp.
I look around the Martial Apprentice battlefield.
Chaos.
No formations, no commanders. Just brutal slugfests everywhere.
Roughly two hundred Martial Apprentices on each side.
At the very least, unconscious fighters are left alone. Losers are stripped of their upper dougi and dragged aside.
The injured sit or lie nearby, watching.
There are rules! I mean, it's still fucked up—but there are rules!
Fall unconscious and you're out of the "game."
This is state-sanctioned…
Insane.
At least I won't die here… right?
I sprint after Hideyoshi, dodging stray strikes left and right.
One grazing punch clips my shoulder and sends a numb shock through my arm.
Yeah. Hard. Watch it!
Then I see him.
Hideyoshi isn't standing still.
He's moving—constantly.
Running along the shoreline, feet barely sinking into the sand, his beautiful red naginata spinning in wide arcs that carve invisible borders around him.
Anyone who steps past those borders pays for it.
A Mizunori fighter lunges in, bare-handed, aura flaring around his fists.
Hideyoshi doesn't retreat.
He lowers the blade slightly and waits.
The instant the man commits, Hideyoshi pivots. The naginata's shaft slides against the attacker's forearm like a snake wrapping around its prey. But before the fangs can dig in, Hideyoshi pulls back, and in a swift motion, the butt of the naginata snaps forward.
CRACK.
The man folds and drops unconscious before he even hits the ground.
Hideyoshi is already gone.
Another comes in low—a quick martial artist, a maneuver type. Lightning footwork, gauging range, trying to slip inside the weapon's reach.
Hideyoshi lets him.
That's the terrifying part.
The moment the fighter steps in and aims for his neck, Hideyoshi vaults—planting the naginata into the sand and using it as a pole. He flips clean over the man's head, and as he passes, the blade hooks the back of the attacker's knee.
The leg vanishes from under him.
THUD.
Hideyoshi lands, turns, and taps the back of the man's neck with the shaft.
THUD.
Out.
No wasted movement.
No hesitation.
A third opponent charges—a bulky martial artist with scaly skin, like a turtle. Clearly a defensive type. Thick aura, arms crossed, braced like a wall.
Hideyoshi strikes once.
The blow is absorbed.
He strikes again, harder.
Still nothing.
I think the defender is about to smile—
Hideyoshi suddenly shifts his grip.
The blade slams into the sand instead of the body.
The explosion of grit and broken earth disrupts the stance just long enough.
Under cover of the sand, Hideyoshi spins. The naginata blurs, its butt crashing into the man's collarbone.
The enemy crumples like a sandcastle.
Out.
I swallow.
He's not just overpowering them.
He's fucking solving them.
Offensive types get redirected and countered. Maneuver types get baited. Defensive types get unbalanced and caught off-guard.
And he does all of this without using Divine Arsenal.
Meanwhile, the battlefield churns.
I look around and realize something unsettling.
We have fewer Martial Squires on the field.
Way fewer.
Yet wherever Hideyoshi moves, pressure lifts. Allied Squires flow into the space he clears, reinforcing the line like water filling a channel.
Is he… anchoring the battlefield?
Suddenly, my tail shivers all the way up to my chest.
I twist just in time to avoid a full hit, but the shock still rattles my ribs.
I stagger back, coughing.
An enemy Squire has locked onto me.
Before he can strike again, he's flung aside as one of our Martial Artists smashes him away with an oversized hammer.
The man who saved me throws me a deathly glare before charging after his target.
He looks familiar… but what did I do?
I really don't belong here.
I look up again.
Hideyoshi is laughing.
Not mockery.
Not madness.
Pure, genuine joy.
His red naginata twists and dances like a living thing, and for the first time, I understand—
This isn't a battlefield to him.
It's a playground.
…That goofy brother-in-law of mine really is a monster.