«Before the age of samurai...
Before castles crowned the mountains...
Japan belonged to seven rulers.
Some worshipped them as gods.
Others cursed them as monsters.
History remembers them by only one name...
The Seven Calamities.»
---
No one knew where they came from.
Some believed they descended from heaven.
Others claimed they were born from the fears of mankind itself.
Whatever the truth...
One thing remained unchanged.
They were not human.
Each possessed power beyond understanding.
The rivers changed course at their command.
Storms answered their anger.
Forests withered...
Or flourished...
By their will alone.
For centuries...
Japan knew peace.
Not because people desired it.
But because no one dared wage war beneath the eyes of the Seven.
Some called it the Golden Age.
Others...
The Age of Chains.
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---
Then...
Humanity rebelled.
Not every village wished to kneel forever.
Not every warrior accepted immortal rulers.
From every province...
People gathered.
Monks.
Samurai.
Blacksmiths.
Shrine maidens.
Farmers.
Men and women who believed mankind should choose its own future.
They formed an alliance.
A final resistance.
Leading them...
Was a nameless swordsman.
The man history would one day remember as...
The Silent Blade.
But he was never alone.
Six others stood beside him.
Warriors whose names had faded into legend.
Together...
They became known as...
The Seven Guardians.
Seven Guardians.
Against Seven Calamities.
The war lasted years.
Mountains split.
Forests burned.
Entire valleys disappeared from history.
When it finally ended...
None of the Calamities had fallen.
For beings such as them...
Death did not exist.
Instead...
The Guardians gave everything they had.
Each Calamity was sealed within a realm beyond the world of men.
One Guardian...
For one Seal.
Many never returned.
Those who survived...
Swore an oath.
The seals would never be abandoned.
Their descendants would protect them.
Until the end of time.
---
History forgot their sacrifice.
The world moved on.
The Guardians became myths.
The Calamities became fairy tales.
Only a handful of families...
Still remembered the truth.
---
Morning.
Ren tightened the strap of his travel pack.
The road ahead was busy with merchants and pilgrims.
Yet his thoughts remained elsewhere.
The traveler in the straw hat.
The Crimson Hunt.
The broken sword guard.
Nothing made sense.
By noon...
He arrived at the town of Aokawa.
Unlike his village...
It was alive.
Street vendors shouted.
Children chased one another through narrow alleys.
Musicians filled the market with cheerful melodies.
For a brief moment...
It almost felt like the world was at peace.
Then Ren heard a familiar voice.
"...Gather around!"
An elderly storyteller sat beneath a large cherry tree.
Dozens of children crowded around him.
"The Seven Calamities once ruled this land!"
The children gasped.
One raised a hand.
"Were they really monsters?"
The storyteller chuckled.
"Depends on who you ask."
"Some believed they protected Japan."
"Others believed they enslaved it."
Another child asked,
"Who defeated them?"
The old man smiled.
"No one knows."
"Some say an army."
"Others say seven heroes."
"And a few old fools..."
"...still insist one of them walks among us."
The children laughed.
Ren did not.
When the crowd dispersed...
He approached the storyteller.
"...Do you believe those stories?"
The old man shrugged.
"Legends survive because they carry pieces of truth."
Ren slowly reached into his pack.
He revealed the broken sword guard.
The storyteller's smile disappeared.
His eyes widened.
"...Where..."
"...did you find that crest?"
Ren remained silent.
The old man quickly looked around.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Put it away."
Ren obeyed.
"What is it?"
The storyteller swallowed.
"...The mark of the Guardians."
Ren froze.
"The Guardians?"
"I thought they were only a legend."
"So did everyone else."
The old man looked toward the mountains.
"But legends..."
"...have a terrible habit of becoming real."
Before Ren could ask another question...
A bell rang through the town.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The storyteller's expression turned pale.
"...No..."
From atop the northern gate...
A watchman shouted.
"Riders!"
"Crimson riders!"
Panic spread through the streets.
Merchants abandoned their stalls.
Parents grabbed their children.
The storyteller looked at Ren.
"They're not here for this town."
"They're here..."
"...for you."
Far away...
At the edge of a frozen valley...
The Silent Blade continued walking toward the next ancient road.
Without stopping...
He quietly whispered,
"Six remain."
The wind carried his words into the mountains.
Somewhere...
Another seal trembled.
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End of Chapter 6
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