Koumei sipped his sake. Beyond the five houses, no marketplace clamored and no town gate drew a crowd.He lowered the jug and watched the empty path.“I’m too old to keep living. If only I could find someone to inherit all my knowledge—perhaps it wouldn’t die with me!”“Oh, gods! I know I’m not a holy person—in fact, I feel unworthy of asking anything of you! But for one last time, I beg you: please bring me someone willing to inherit this knowledge!”Footsteps broke the quiet: one light set, two heavier sets close behind.A small boy came around the bend with half his face covered. Two men pursued him, long sickles flashing over their shoulders.The child ran straight to Koumei, who was still sitting calmly and sipping his sake.“Grandpa! Help me—those people want to kill me!” said the child, who was none other than Kazan.Koumei smiled at the plea, studying the boy’s movement. The covered face told him little, but the Ki and trained steps did.He turned toward the two pursuers, who h

Nearly a month after the lessons began, winter reached this part of Tsukigawa. Frost whitened the ground around the lake.Kazan looked at its icy edge and shivered. He was glad his daily practice in the mossy water was over.“Hey, little demon, now you must close your eyes and walk over these thorns without any footwear! Try not to step on them!” Koumei ordered.Kazan held his breath as he looked at the multitude of thorns scattered over the snow. There were gaps where he could place his feet without stepping on them.“If I put a foot wrong, the soles of my feet might bleed,” he thought.The Demon King’s Body would have hardened his soles. He began to reach for his Ki, but Koumei spoke before he could use it.“Cover your eyes with this cloth, then walk right through the thorns. Make sure your feet don’t step on them—if you can’t use your heels, use your toes, but under no circumstances should you use Ki,” Koumei instructed.Kazan stopped drawing on his Ki. Even a single Circle of Ki us

“Kazane, Mr. Haoyue met our son!” Enjou reached for her hand.Her fingers tightened around his.“Is that true, sir? If so, where is my son now, and how is he? Is he all right? And… and has he grown up?” asked Kazane, firing off one question after another.Haoyue tried to answer, but another question followed before he could begin.“Kazane, calm down. Let’s sit down first and listen to what Mr. Haoyue has to say,” said Enjou.Kazane sat at once and leaned toward him, her hands still clasped around Enjou’s.“His name is Shinra Kazan—that’s what he told us. We first met him at a restaurant; he was there alone, buying food.”“Do you still remember his facial features?” Enjou asked.Haoyue nodded. Once the face covering came off, that boy had been impossible to forget.“Of course, Mr. Enjou. At first, he was wearing a face covering, which made my daughter very curious! But when he took it off, the boy turned out to be handsome—like the son of a god!” Haoyue said.Kazane drew a sharp breath

Shinra Kazan ran through the day, stopping only long enough to catch his breath before taking the road again. His body was about sixteen now; he still had years of absence to explain when he reached Kasen.Along the road, he caught sight of an old man walking alone.The path narrowed ahead. The stranger kept to its center, unhurried, with no companion or pack in sight.Kazan slowed as he caught up behind him.“Excuse me, Grandpa, why are you walking alone, and where exactly are you headed?” asked Kazan.The old man didn’t answer; he kept walking slowly, as if he didn’t realize Kazan was behind him.Perhaps the man had not heard him. Kazan reached toward his shoulder.His fingers stopped short. The grass beside the path hung motionless in the breeze, each bent blade fixed in place.Kazan drew back two steps. He could move. So could the old man. Nothing else stirred.“You called me ‘Grandpa’? Then what should I call you? A young man, or a young man whose soul is that of an old man?”Kaza

People knelt before temple statues and burned incense at household altars. Kazan had seen the offerings; he had never seen a god accept one.Others laughed at those same altars and called their worshippers fools.He remembered an old account of a village that had stopped praying after a drought.In the story, the fields cracked while the villagers waited for rain. Their prayers brought none.Children starved. Illness spread among those still alive.Eventually, the villagers left their altars unattended.Then strangers in black robes arrived.They promised rain.The villagers watched one stranger light incense and recite an unfamiliar prayer. Clouds covered the fields; rain struck the dry earth.People fell to their knees. The strangers told them to abandon the gods and worship the Dark Emperor, Ruler of Darkness, instead.That was how the account ended. Kazan did not know what had become of the remote village, or how much of the tale was true.He took a few careful steps, letting his b