Ryota slowly stepped away from the center of the village, his footsteps barely audible against the hard, dusty ground, his thoughts swirling as he processed the final moments of his exchange with Mei. Rarely had he encountered a woman who did not bend under his gaze, nor under the implicit weight of his status—let alone under the fear of an uncertain future. He knew words alone would not be enough to convince her, yet he could not simply leave her here, among the ashes and ruins, when he now understood that she held a crucial key. Not only to saving these villagers, but more importantly, to uncovering who, from the shadows, was attempting to manipulate the fate of the clans.
Because Ryota was convinced that this poisoning was the work of the same group that had sought to kill him.
Daichi walked beside him, silent, observing his friend from the corner of his eye, trying to decipher the thoughts behind that hard, calculating stare. He knew Ryota better than anyone. He knew he never gave up on something he had decided to take.
"You still want to take her with us, don't you?" he finally murmured, breaking the oppressive silence that had settled between them.
Ryota did not answer immediately. He continued walking until he reached an overturned cart on the side of the road—a remnant of a hasty escape by villagers who likely had not survived the journey. He placed a hand on the cracked wood, observing the scattered shards as if the answers he sought were hidden among them.
"She holds a value she herself may not fully grasp," he finally said in a measured voice, his gaze never leaving the ground. "She is not just a healer. She sees what others ignore. She understands what others dismiss as supernatural or mere fate."
He straightened and met Daichi's gaze, his expression impassive, yet laced with a cold determination.
"She discovered this poison before we did. She knows how to analyze it, she knows where it comes from, she knows how to fight it. If we leave her here, we lose our only chance to track down those who orchestrated this attack."
Daichi raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest.
"And so? You think she'll come with us willingly? You heard her as well as I did. She has no intention of leaving this village."
Ryota's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile—one that boded nothing good for Mei.
"Then we will stay here until these villagers are saved. And by then, she will come with us."
He paused, then added in a lower tone, his voice edged with steel:
"Willingly... or not."
Daichi did not react immediately, merely observing his lord with sharpened attention. He had seen Ryota make ruthless decisions before—decisions that commanded both respect and fear. But never had he seen him this resolute over a mere woman.
"And if she still refuses?" he asked cautiously, though he already knew the answer.
Ryota turned his head toward the central square where Mei had returned to her patients, her posture straight, her presence unwavering despite the suffering and death surrounding her.
"She will refuse," he admitted bluntly. "She will challenge us again. She will try to impose her own will. She will attempt to make us believe she is untouchable, free to choose her own fate... But she will come to understand that some decisions are no longer hers to make."
Daichi sighed quietly, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips.
"You admire her stubbornness, don't you?"
Ryota did not answer immediately, his gaze still locked onto Mei from a distance, as if she were a mystery he was determined to unravel, a challenge that stirred within him a fascination he had never expected.
"I recognize the worth of those who do not bow under the weight of a name or a sword," he finally said. "But that changes nothing. She will come with us, whether she likes it or not."
Daichi slowly nodded, as if receiving confirmation of something he had already known.
"Very well, Ryota. Then we will stay."
And with those words, the future of the coming days was sealed.
Mei did not yet know that her fate had already been taken from her hands.
Dusk cast the village in a golden glow, the shadows of its dilapidated buildings stretching over the dry earth like remnants of a past long lost. A light breeze lifted thin spirals of dust, clinging to clothes, to faces—to anything that still carried a semblance of life in this forsaken place. Ryota stood near a dried-up well, silently watching the remaining villagers, these souls caught between life and death, clinging to the faintest hope that an unseen hand would pull them from their fate.
His gaze slid to Mei, still tending to her patients with mechanical precision, her movements imbued with an expertise far beyond what he had seen in the traditional healers of his clan. It was fascinating how indifferent she seemed to the danger surrounding her, how she carried herself as though the suffering of others was a burden she had taken upon herself without question.
Yet he knew that was not the case.
No, Mei was not a woman who blindly obeyed any imposed destiny.
She was different. A force of nature, molded by an iron will—a woman whose gaze did not express fear or submission, but complete mastery of herself and her surroundings.
And that was precisely why she presented a challenge unlike any he had ever faced.
"She won't bend," Daichi murmured beside him, his tone laced with amused curiosity. "You can stay here as long as you want, but this woman will not abandon her role to follow a lord, no matter how powerful he is."
Ryota's lips curled into a small smile, his eyes still fixed on Mei, whose long dark hair caught the last rays of the setting sun, giving her an almost ethereal aura, as if she did not quite belong to this world.
"That is what she believes," he replied in a calm voice. But within his tone lay something unreadable—something between amusement and absolute certainty.
Daichi crossed his arms, studying his lord as he had done countless times before, gauging how far he was willing to go this time.
"And what will you do when she continues to refuse?" he pressed, his voice tinged with restrained exasperation.
Ryota finally tore his gaze from Mei and turned to his most trusted companion.
"Nothing."
Daichi raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing?"
"Not yet," Ryota corrected.
He let his gaze wander back over the village, over these survivors who had already lost all hope, all strength—who had nothing left but a silent wait for death.
But Mei... she was still fighting.
She had not yet realized that the very battle she waged alone had already condemned her to follow a different path.
A path he had already laid out for her.
"I will wait," he finally declared, as if it had always been the only possible course of action.
Daichi furrowed his brows slightly, unable to understand his lord's sudden patience—he, who never waited for anything, he, who always took what he desired without concern for obstacles.
"Wait for what, exactly?"
Ryota smiled—a faint, imperceptible smile.
"Wait for her to understand."
Daichi slowly shook his head, releasing a quiet chuckle.
"You mean wait for her to admit she has no choice."
Ryota did not confirm it aloud, but the glint in his eyes was answer enough.
Yes.
That was exactly what he meant.
And he never lost.