The emissary arrived at noon.
Not with banners.
Not with ceremony.
Just a single rider in pale armor, horse unmarked, posture impeccable someone who expected to be let through without resistance.
Goro spotted them first. "That's a clan rider."
Masanori shaded his eyes. "House Saionji."
Hiroto felt it before the rider dismounted.
Control.
Not the Sovereign's pressure.
Human discipline sharpened into a blade.
The rider removed their helmet, revealing a woman in her early thirties, hair bound tightly, eyes calm to the point of cold.
"I am Saionji Akemi," she said, bowing precisely. "I bring words from Lady Saionji Rei."
Hiroto inclined his head not bowing, not refusing. "Speak."
Akemi's gaze flicked briefly to the surrounding people fewer now than yesterday, but still watching.
"Lady Rei congratulates you," Akemi said. "You refused worship. That restraint is… admirable."
Goro muttered, "Here it comes."
Akemi smiled faintly. "House Saionji believes restraint should be rewarded."
She produced a sealed scroll.
"An invitation," she continued. "Protection. Resources. A place within our domain where you may continue your work without interference."
Masanori stiffened. "That's not a request."
Akemi met his gaze. "No. It's an offer."
Hiroto did not take the scroll.
"What's the cost?" he asked.
Akemi didn't hesitate. "Distance."
"You would withdraw from Kanezawa," Akemi explained. "Cease public appearances. Speak only through approved channels."
"And in return?" Hiroto asked.
"Villages remain untouched," Akemi said. "Clans restrain themselves. The Council breathes easier."
Yui's voice trembled. "You're asking him to disappear."
Akemi nodded. "Quietly."
Hiroto studied her face. "And if I refuse?"
Akemi's smile faded. "Then others will fill the silence you leave."
The shadow at Hiroto's feet tightened alert, displeased.
"People will get hurt," Akemi added calmly. "Not by us. By those who believe you abandoned them."
Goro's hand twitched toward his sword.
Hiroto raised a hand.
"I won't trade visibility for safety," Hiroto said. "And I won't let you use people as leverage."
Akemi sighed softly. "I hoped you'd say that."
The arrow came from the treeline.
Hiroto felt it not as danger, but as decision.
He moved without thinking.
The shadow surged upward, bending space just enough for the arrow to veer aside, burying itself in the dirt where Hiroto's chest had been.
Shouts erupted.
Another arrow flew then another.
Goro charged, blade flashing.
Masanori barked orders, pulling civilians back.
Akemi stepped away smoothly, already drawing a short blade.
"So," she said coolly. "You chose the loud path."
Hiroto's heart pounded not with fear, but with clarity.
"No," he said. "You did."
Figures burst from the trees trained, masked, precise. Not soldiers.
Assassins.
They moved in coordinated arcs, targeting not Hiroto directly but the people near him.
The message was clear.
Hiroto felt something inside him harden.
"No," he said again.
The shadow expanded not violently, but decisively spreading across the ground like ink in water.
The assassins' movements slowed not stopped, but resisted. Each step required effort, each strike dulled.
Goro took advantage instantly, disabling one attacker, then another.
Akemi lunged toward Hiroto, blade flashing.
Hiroto didn't dodge.
He stepped into her strike.
The shadow wrapped her wrist not crushing, not breaking, holding.
Akemi's eyes widened.
"You don't kill," she realized.
"No," Hiroto said quietly. "But I don't allow this."
He twisted gently.
Her blade fell.
The remaining assassins hesitated.
That was enough.
"Withdraw," Akemi snapped.
They did vanishing back into the forest with disciplined speed.
Akemi stood still, breathing hard, shadow coiled around her wrist like a warning.
Hiroto released her.
She stepped back, rubbing her arm, studying him with something new in her eyes.
"You could have ended me," she said.
"Yes," Hiroto replied.
"Why didn't you?"
"Because then Lady Rei would learn the wrong lesson."
Akemi laughed quietly. "You're more dangerous than the rumors."
The camp was shaken but intact.
No civilians were harmed.
That mattered.
Masanori approached Hiroto, face pale. "That was an assassination."
"Yes," Hiroto said.
"And you stopped it without bloodshed."
"Yes."
Masanori exhaled. "That will terrify them."
Akemi sheathed her blade and bowed this time, lower.
"I will report faithfully," she said. "House Saionji will reconsider its approach."
Hiroto met her gaze. "Tell Lady Rei this."
Akemi waited.
"I don't disappear," Hiroto said. "And I don't belong to anyone."
Akemi nodded once. "Understood."
She mounted her horse and rode away.
The pressure returned not heavy, not distant.
Near.
Not approving.
Not condemning.
Studying.
Hiroto felt the Sovereign's attention sharpen.
This was no longer curiosity.
This was evaluation.
As dusk settled, Yui sat beside Hiroto, hands shaking slightly.
"They tried to kill you," she whispered.
Hiroto nodded. "They tried to scare me."
Goro snorted. "Didn't work."
"It worked," Hiroto said softly. "Just not how they wanted."
He looked toward the darkening forest.
"They've learned I won't vanish," he continued. "So next, they'll try to control the ground I stand on."
Masanori's voice was grim. "Sieges. Laws. Declarations."
Hiroto's shadow stretched calmly at his feet.
"Then we keep refusing," Hiroto said. "Publicly."
That night, Hiroto couldn't sleep.
Not from fear.
From understanding.
Belief had tried to crown him.
Power had tried to cage him.
Now steel had tested him.
And failed.
But the game had changed.
This was no longer about surviving the dark.
It was about surviving humanity's response to someone who wouldn't kneel.
Hiroto stared at the stars.
Let them come.
He would not disappear.