It was just another day in Kaida. The sun burned softly over the mountains, painting the clouds in gold and crimson. The faint echo of clashing steel could be heard from somewhere far away, carried by the wind like a familiar melody. In this land, fighting for territory was as normal as breathing. Every clan wanted to rise higher, to claim more ground, to build a name that would echo beyond their borders.
In Kaida, strength was everything. Honor, pride, power, they were all tied to the lands a clan owned. Whoever held the most ground ruled with the loudest voice. Some even dreamed of surpassing the Clan Lord himself.
Among all the clans, two stood above the rest. The Akarawa and the Hoshino. Their rivalry had lasted for generations. Victory passed from one side to the other like a curse, never lasting long before the other struck back. Whenever word spread about new land, everyone already knew who would arrive first.
This time was no different.
Rumor spread through Kaida like wildfire. A new piece of land had been discovered along the border between Nacho and Fitoto, a stretch of untouched soil said to be rich, fertile, and full of promise. The rivers gleamed like silver veins, and the forests were dense with life. For ordinary people, it was just land. But for these two clans, it was pride, legacy, and power.
Master Daichi Akarawa and his guards were the first to arrive. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth. Grass swayed gently in the wind, untouched by footprints until now. Daichi stood silently at the edge of the clearing, observing the land with a calm, thoughtful gaze.
"Beautiful," he murmured. "Unspoiled and peaceful."
His guards moved ahead, inspecting the terrain and marking boundaries. Just as they began their survey, a distant movement caught their eyes. Shadows rippled across the horizon, banners fluttering under the sun.
The Hoshino clan had arrived.
Their blue-and-white flags swayed with confidence, each step of their warriors precise and deliberate. But this time, it wasn't Master Hoshino who led them.
It was Lady Shion, his eldest daughter, known across Kaida for unmatched skill in water combat.
"Oh, the Hoshinos have arrived," Roku, the head guard of Akarawa, muttered. His tone carried a mix of annoyance and amusement as everyone turned toward the approaching group.
Daichi sighed quietly. "Oh, great," he said under his breath, fanning himself lazily with the folded map in his hand.
The two clans faced each other at the center of the field. For a moment, silence ruled. Only the wind moved between them, carrying the weight of history and rivalry.
Shion stepped forward, her blue cloak swaying around her ankles. Her gaze locked onto Daichi's, steady and defiant. "We're taking over this land," she declared. Her voice was firm, echoing across the open plain. "You should all leave."
Daichi tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "First of all," he began calmly, "didn't your father teach you to show respect when speaking to your elders? And second, we arrived first. You know the rule—first finders, keepers. So you're the one who should leave, Lady Hoshino."
Shion's lips curved into a scoff. "I don't give respect to my enemies," she said coldly. "The Akarawas aren't worthy of it. And I don't care about your rules. This land will be ours."
Daichi smiled faintly. "Says who?"
The tension thickened instantly. Shion's guards stepped forward, water swirling faintly around their hands. The air around them grew cooler, rippling with moisture. In response, Roku's palms began to glow with a dull red light, the heat gathering and forming a faint spark.
"There will be no violence here," Daichi said firmly.
"But they're about to attack," Roku warned, his hands already shaping the flames into a small fireball.
"Violence doesn't solve everything," Daichi said, his voice steady. "There's always a peaceful way to end things."
Roku glanced at him in disbelief. "Master Akarawa never talked like this," he muttered. "He'd have struck first. If he were here, these people wouldn't still be standing."
Daichi looked at him quietly. "But I'm not my husband," he said softly. "I don't use violence."
A silence fell over the group. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Shion frowned. "Why aren't you striking?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as realization dawned that they had no intention of fighting.
Daichi's tone stayed calm. "We're not going to strike first," he said. "And I know you won't either. You're waiting for us to make the first move. But there are other ways to claim this land without using violence."
His guards exchanged puzzled glances. None of them could believe what they were hearing. For warriors who lived by battle, Daichi's words felt almost unreal.
Even Shion's side looked uncertain. For as long as anyone could remember, land disputes were settled by battle. Fight until one side fell—whoever remained standing claimed the land. Simple, brutal, and final.
Shion folded her arms, her lips twisting into a smirk. "You must be new to this," she said mockingly. "This isn't how things work. Are you sure this is your first time fighting for land?"
Her head guard, Jiko, leaned close and whispered, "That's Master Akarawa's husband, Daichi Akarawa. He usually stays home, taking care of their daughter. I also heard he doesn't have powers. Just an ordinarian."
Shion blinked, then looked back at Daichi with renewed interest. "No wonder he looks like that spoiled fire brat," she said under her breath.
Daichi's calm expression shifted slightly. His fan paused mid-air.
"Yo," he said, his voice still polite but firm. "My daughter may be a spoiled brat—because I spoiled her too much—but at least she knows how to respect her elders."
Shion rolled her eyes. She'd had enough of talking. "Alright then," she said, stepping forward. "Since you don't have powers, how about this? You and me, one on one. First to land a punch wins."
Daichi raised a brow, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. "I said no violence. And besides, you won't be able to land a punch on me."
"Oh, are you sure, old man?" Shion taunted. "I train every single day. Not even my guards can land a punch on me."
"Still no violence, Lady," Daichi replied. He opened his hand fan again and began fanning himself lazily, his eyes drifting up toward the sun. "It really is sunny today," he muttered softly.
A vein pulsed at Shion's temple. "You're chickening out!" she said loudly. "Quack, quack, quack! Chicken!"
Some of the Hoshino guards chuckled quietly behind her.
Daichi looked at her, shaking his head with a sigh that sounded more tired than offended. "Fine then," he said. "Not because you called me a chicken or an old man—that's offensive, by the way. I'm fine as wine. But you still won't be able to land a single punch on me."
Shion's grin widened. "Oh, you're mistaken, old man," she said, stepping closer as the air between them thickened with challenge.
A gust of wind passed through the field, carrying the heat of Akarawa's fire and the cool mist of Hoshino's water. The guards on both sides went silent, watching closely. No one was sure if they were about to witness a fight or a lesson.
Daichi simply stood there, calm as ever, his fan moving gently with the breeze.
And then, Shion took her first step forward.