I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Chapter 798: The Kijin Race

After Hanzo left, the meeting house gradually became quieter.

The shinobi who had remained inside began gathering the maps and reports from the low table. Some rolled the parchments carefully and tied them with cord. Others carried the small wooden markers back to their boxes. The soft sounds of preparation filled the room, though the tension of the discussion had not truly faded.

Outside, the village was already moving.

Nathan could hear footsteps passing along the forest paths, the muted voices of people receiving orders, and the distant clatter of weapons being prepared. Somewhere near the training grounds, steel struck steel in short, controlled bursts. The village had become a nest of quiet activity, every person taking on a task before the coming storm reached them.

Genzo remained by the table.

He did not seem ready to leave yet.

Neither was Nathan.

Yukihime stood a little behind Nathan, her hands resting calmly before her. She had watched Hanzo leave without saying much, though Nathan knew she understood why Genzo had been reluctant to allow it. Hanzo was capable, perhaps more capable than most people expected, but she was still Genzo’s niece.

Genzo rested one hand against the table and looked at Nathan for a long moment.

“You are not an ordinary man, are you?” he asked at last.

Nathan raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Genzo gave a faint, tired smile.

“When I first met you, I thought you were dangerous. Strong, impatient, and angry. You did not look like someone who would care much for careful planning. I expected you to choose the quickest road, the bloodiest one, and force your way through every problem standing in front of you.”

Nathan did not answer immediately.

The words were not entirely wrong.

When he first arrived in the South, he had been exhausted by everything around him. The poison in his body, the uncertainty surrounding Ayame, the pressure of enemies moving in the shadows, and the endless games of people with power had all worn down his patience.

At the time, he had wanted simple answers.

Find the Daimyos.

Kill the ones who deserved it.

Destroy the people who stood in his way.

It had seemed easier than dealing with the complicated weight of politics, loyalties, old grudges, and the fear that had divided Kastoria for so long.

But three weeks had passed since then.

Three weeks filled with blood, death, betrayal, travel, and choices he could not take back.

He had killed Yorimasa.

He had defeated Sadamasa and forced him into obedience.

He had watched Morosuke fall.

He had faced Mitsuhide inside Death God Valley and seen what a demon shrine could turn a man into.

And through it all, he had begun to understand something he had not wanted to admit in the beginning.

Killing powerful men was easy compared to dealing with what they left behind.

A dead Daimyo did not automatically create peace.

Sometimes, it created chaos.

Nathan looked down at the map one last time, at Minami Kyoto marked in dark ink, then at the roads leading through the South.

“It would be useless to put Ayame on the throne if the South still hated the capital,” he said.

Genzo’s expression grew more serious.

Nathan continued.

“If Norihiro dies and the people believe Kaguya was behind it, they will never accept Ayame. They will see her as another ruler sent from the North to control them. They will resent her before she even has the chance to show them who she is.”

He exhaled slight.

“When I leave Kastoria,” he said, “I want it to be united.”

The room fell still.

It was a simple statement, but the meaning beneath it was not.

Nathan did not speak of taking the country for himself. He did not speak of ruling it, gaining land, or building his name through conquest. He spoke as though his part in its future would end once he knew the people he cared about could live without being torn apart by war.

Genzo leaned back slightly.

“That is an ambitious dream, boy.”

Nathan looked at him.

“Perhaps.”

“Even if this plan works, even if the South accepts Kaguya sama and allows Ayame to take her place one day, the capital will still have enemies.” Genzo’s eyes moved toward the distant north, beyond the forest and the mountains. “The samurai will remain. They have influence, armies, land, and old traditions that run deeper than most people understand. And they are supporting Prince Takehiko.”

“I know.”

“They are not a small problem that can be removed with one battle,” Genzo continued. “The three great samurai clans have stood beside the throne for generations. They have protected Kastoria in wars, controlled powerful territories, and trained countless soldiers. They do not kneel easily. They do not change sides because someone asks them to.”

Nathan’s expression did not change.

“Once I am done here, I will handle them too.”

For a moment, Genzo only stared at him.

Then a quiet breath left him, something caught between disbelief and reluctant amusement.

“You are going to take on the samurai next?”

Nathan looked at him as though the answer were obvious.

“If they keep supporting Takehiko, then yes.”

Genzo did not know whether to laugh.

The words sounded absurd.

A single man speaking of facing the samurai clans after killing Daimyos and shaping the future of the South. Any other person who said such things would sound foolish. They would sound drunk on their own strength, unaware of how large the world truly was.

But Nathan did not sound arrogant.

That was what unsettled Genzo the most.

He said it with the same calm certainty he had used when speaking of Norihiro. Not as a boast. Not as an impossible dream.

As a task waiting to be completed.

Genzo had seen enough now to know that Nathan did not make empty promises.

He had watched him arrive in the South with little more than his sword, his strength, and a purpose he kept hidden behind silence. Since then, three Daimyos had fallen. The balance of power had shifted. Sadamasa, who once stood proudly behind the walls of his forge domain, now followed Nathan’s commands out of fear for his life.

The man standing before him was not simply a wandering ronin.

He was becoming something far more dangerous.

A force that powerful people would either follow or be crushed beneath.

“The samurai did not choose Takehiko without reason,” Genzo said at last.

Nathan’s eyes settled on him.

Genzo continued carefully.

“Do not mistake me. I do not defend the prince. I have heard enough about him to understand the kind of man he is. He has his father’s cruelty in him, perhaps even more of it. But the samurai clans still chose him. They must believe he can offer them something Kaguya cannot.”

“I do not care much about their reasons,” Nathan replied.

His voice was quiet.

But cold.

“They may have old agreements. They may have debts. They may believe Takehiko will make them stronger. None of that changes what they are doing now.”

Genzo watched him in silence.

Nathan’s gaze hardened.

“They are supporting a man who would bring Kastoria into another age of fear. They are helping him gather power while Kaguya is trying to hold the country together. They are siding with him even though they know what kind of person he is.”

He paused.

“If they choose him, then they accept the consequences of that choice.”

The words carried no anger.

That made them worse.

Nathan was not speaking from rage. He was speaking from judgment.

“They will kneel to Kaguya and Ayame,” he said. “Or I will remove them.”

Yukihime let out a soft, pleased laugh beside him.

She lifted one hand to cover her mouth, though the small smile in her eyes remained visible.

“Well said, Nathan-sama.”

Yukihime’s expression was gentle, but there was pride in it too. She had seen the compassionate side of him, the part that worried over people he barely knew and refused to abandon those who needed his help. But she also loved the darkness in him when it was directed at those who deserved it.

The side that did not hesitate before cruelty.

The side that refused to bend before threats.

The side that could look at an entire powerful order and decide it needed to change.

Genzo’s eyes moved from Yukihime back to Nathan.

He slowly folded his arms.

“One day, will you tell me who you really are?” he asked.

Nathan’s eyes met his.

For a brief moment, something changed in his expression.

There were things Nathan carried that Genzo did not understand. The weapons that appeared from nowhere. The strange power that had surrounded him in battle. The people who spoke of gods and demons as though they had stood before them. The way a being like Yukihime followed him without question.

There was a story behind all of it.

A much larger story.

Genzo could feel it.

Nathan looked toward the doorway.

“When we are done with Norihiro,” he said, “maybe.”

Then he began walking away.

Genzo did not stop him.

He knew better than to press a man who had given as much of an answer as Nathan was willing to offer.

Yukihime followed behind Nathan, leaving Genzo alone in the meeting house.

For a while, the old shinobi leader stood in silence.

His gaze fell to the map once again.

Minami Kyoto.

Norihiro.

The roads that would soon carry armies.

He had spent most of his life fighting in shadows, convinced that the South could only ever be changed through patience and sacrifice. He had dreamed of freedom, but even he had never imagined it would arrive like this.

Not through one great uprising.

Not through a single assassin’s blade.

But through a mysterious man who seemed to have appeared from nowhere, carrying enough strength to tear apart the foundations of Kastoria.

Genzo let out a slow breath.

Then he turned back toward the work waiting for him.

Outside, Nathan walked along one of the forest paths beside Yukihime.

The village had become busier since the meeting ended. Shinobi passed them in pairs, some carrying bundles of supplies, others leading horses toward the hidden paths beyond the settlement.

A few bowed to Nathan as they passed.

He acknowledged them with a quiet nod.

Yukihime walked close beside him, her steps nearly soundless on the earth.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then Nathan looked toward her.

“Yukihime.”

“Yes, Nathan-sama?”

“Do you know much about the demon shrines in Kastoria?”

Yukihime’s expression changed slightly.

“Yes,” she said. “They existed even during my time, a thousand years ago. I never entered one myself, and I never wanted to. They were cursed places even then.”

Nathan listened closely.

“What were they?”

Yukihime looked through the trees as though her memory had carried her back to a distant age.

“It was said that they were built by cults that worshiped demons. Not ordinary oni or wandering spirits, but things far older and more dangerous. The people who made those shrines believed they could call the Kijin into this world and gain strength from them.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed.

“Mitsuhide used a shrine.”

“Yes.”

“He turned into something else.”

“He did.”

Yukihime’s voice was calm, though her eyes had grown darker.

“The shrines fed on blood, fear, death, and devotion. Those who entered them seeking power were rarely given what they expected. A Kijin does not give strength freely. It takes something in return.”

Nathan thought of Mitsuhide’s transformed body.

The dark power spreading through the ruined shrine.

The dead servants lying with their throats cut open.

The ritual symbols burning beneath the blood.

Mitsuhide had believed he was gaining power.

Perhaps he had.

But in the end, he had become a monster and died alone among the ruins.

“And the gods sealed them?” Nathan asked.

“That is what the old stories say.” Yukihime nodded. “The gods of the higher realm learned what the cults were doing. The shrines were sealed, and the Kijin were bound away from this world.”

“By the gods,” Nathan muttered.

“Yes.”

Nathan remained quiet as they walked.

If the shrines had been sealed by gods, then perhaps Amaterasu knew more. She had said little about them so far, but he had also not asked directly. He did not want to call on her for every answer. She had helped him more than once already, and he understood that even gods had limits.

Or perhaps they had their own reasons for keeping certain knowledge hidden.

Nathan did not know.

But Norihiro’s shrine changed everything.

Mitsuhide had been dangerous enough with one. Norihiro was smarter, more patient, and far more politically powerful. If he had been preparing a ritual for years, then Nathan could not simply assume he would face an ordinary opponent when the time came.

He looked toward Yukihime again.

“What do you know about the Kijin?”

Yukihime hummed softly, thinking.

“Not much,” she admitted. “Only what was spoken in old stories. They are another race. A race of oni, or demons, but not like the creatures that wander forests and mountains. The Kijin are far more dangerous. They were forbidden by the primordial gods, Izanagi and Izanami.”

Nathan repeated the names quietly.

“Izanagi and Izanami.”

Yukihime nodded.

“They are the parents of Amaterasu and Susanoo.”

Nathan’s thoughts moved quickly.

The names were not unfamiliar to him. He knew enough to understand their importance. If Amaterasu and Susanoo stood among the greatest divine beings of this world, then Izanagi and Izanami belonged to something even older.

Something closer to the beginning.

“So the Kijin were sealed by beings stronger than Amaterasu,” Nathan said.

Yukihime looked at him.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps they were sealed because even gods understood the danger of allowing them to return.”

Nathan’s hand settled near the hilt of Kyomei.

He had truly a bad feeling.

What was Norihiro really planning with his Shrine?