They arrived before Hiroto ever announced himself.
By the time Kanezawa's outer fields came into view, the road ahead was already crowded not with soldiers, but with people. Farmers with cracked hands. Merchants leading tired horses. Mothers carrying children wrapped in cloth. Old men leaning on staffs worn smooth by decades of use.
Pilgrims.
They stood in quiet clusters, eyes turning as one when Hiroto and his companions emerged from the trees.
The silence that followed was heavier than any shout.
Yui stopped walking.
Goro cursed under his breath. "That's… more than I expected."
Masanori's face was grave. "Word travels fastest when fear and hope share a road."
Hiroto felt it immediately.
Expectation pressed against his skin.
Not the Sovereign's weight.
Human belief.
And it frightened him far more.
A woman stepped forward hesitantly, bowing so deeply her forehead nearly touched the dirt.
"Are you… Lord of Shadows?" she asked.
The title struck Hiroto like a slap.
"I'm not" he began.
Another voice interrupted. "He saved Hoshin Village."
"He stood against House Mori."
"He spoke to the dark and lived."
The murmurs spread, growing, layering meaning where none had been invited.
Hiroto raised his hands instinctively. "Please. I'm not a lord. I didn't come to rule anything."
The crowd quieted but the belief didn't fade.
A man with hollow eyes spoke up. "Then why did the darkness listen to you?"
Hiroto faltered.
Because he had no answer that wouldn't make things worse.
They moved slowly through the gathered people, offering water, directions, reassurance anything to prevent panic. But every word Hiroto spoke carried weight now. Every glance felt like a decision being measured.
Yui stayed close, whispering urgently. "They're not looking at you like a person."
"I know," Hiroto said softly. "They're looking for certainty."
Goro scowled. "That's how disasters start."
Masanori nodded. "Faith without structure becomes fanaticism."
As if summoned by the word, a man pushed through the crowd, eyes wild.
"You must protect us," he said, gripping Hiroto's sleeve. "The shadows won't touch us if we stay near you."
Hiroto gently removed the man's hand. "I can't promise that."
The man's face twisted. "Then what good are you?"
The question cut deeper than any blade.
Trouble came before sunset.
Shouts erupted near the riverbank, followed by screams. Goro was already moving before the sound finished echoing.
They arrived to find two men dragging a bound youth toward the water, shouting accusations.
"He brought the silence!" one cried. "He's cursed!"
The boy was barely fifteen, eyes wide with terror.
Hiroto stepped forward sharply. "Stop."
They froze.
Not because of fear.
Because of recognition.
"You!" one man spat. "You let this happen!"
Hiroto's chest tightened. "Untie him."
The men hesitated.
The crowd gathered fast.
"If you won't protect us," another voice shouted, "then let us protect ourselves!"
The shadow at Hiroto's feet stirred restless, reactive.
He forced it still.
"No," Hiroto said firmly. "You don't get to hurt someone because you're afraid."
"And who decides that?" the man demanded. "You?"
The question hung in the air.
Hiroto realized then,
This was the real danger.
Not the Sovereign.
Not the clans.
But the moment people decided he was allowed to decide for them.
Hiroto took a slow breath.
"I won't rule you," he said clearly. "I won't judge you. And I won't punish you."
Confusion rippled through the crowd.
"But I will not let you kill in my name."
He turned to the men holding the boy. "Let him go."
They did.
Not because of shadow.
Because everyone was watching.
The boy collapsed, sobbing, and Yui rushed to him.
Masanori exhaled slowly. "That could have gone worse."
Goro muttered, "This is worse. It's just slower."
Night fell uneasily.
Kageya appeared again, sitting across from Hiroto near the edge of camp, firelight flickering through his half-formed silhouette.
"You feel it," Kageya said.
"Yes," Hiroto replied. "They want me to be something I'm not."
Kageya nodded. "Wardens failed not because they lacked strength but because they accepted worship."
Hiroto's heart sank. "Then what do I do?"
"You draw lines," Kageya said. "Even when people hate you for them."
Hiroto stared into the fire. "And when the Sovereign uses that hatred?"
Kageya's gaze hardened. "Then you endure."
Late that night, Hiroto walked alone to the riverbank.
The water reflected his shadow perfectly dark, sharp, obedient.
For the first time, it felt… distant.
"I won't be your god," Hiroto whispered.
The shadow did not argue.
It settled.
Accepted.
Behind him, footsteps approached.
Masanori stopped a respectful distance away. "Messengers from three provinces," he said. "They want alliances. Symbols. Declarations."
Hiroto closed his eyes.
Volume 1 was changing shape.
"I'll speak tomorrow," Hiroto said finally. "But not as a savior."
Masanori studied him. "As what, then?"
Hiroto opened his eyes, resolve quiet but unshakable.
"As a boundary."
Far beyond Kanezawa, something vast shifted.
Not displeased.
Intrigued.
A human refusing power was rare.
Refusing belief?
That was new.
The world leaned forward.
As dawn approached, the camp stirred with restless energy. People whispered of speeches, of protection, of miracles yet to come.
Hiroto stood at the edge of it all, shadow steady, breath even.
He had refused darkness.
Now he would have to refuse divinity.
And that Might be the hardest battle yet.