About half a month after the lord began purging the fraudulent sword schools, the Shirokuro family set off by carriage on a trip to greet various acquaintances.
When they arrived at a post town—“We’ll stay here for the night”—and stepped down from the carriage, everyone noticed a faint burnt smell.
Thinking there must have been a fire, they followed the scent...and found something unpleasant.
“Sansui... What is this?”
“I don’t know...”
In the most prominent spot in town stood the charred remains of a building. If that were all, it would simply seem like an unfortunate accident, but inside the ashes lay a large pile of signboards and banners.
Every one of those banners and boards had Sansui Shirokuro written on them.
Of course, given the fire, not all letters were legible; even so, it was obvious that only items labeled “Sansui Shirokuro” had been burned.
And if so many had survived enough to be read even after the fire, then there must have originally been far more. Imagining that, the three felt a chill brought on by an unknown malice.
Unable to stand still any longer, Sansui approached a nearby townsman and asked:
“Excuse me, may I trouble you for a moment? What is this building? Many things bearing the name Sansui Shirokuro seem to have been burned.”
“Oh, that sword school!”
Sansui had addressed a middle-aged man, who angrily kicked at the debris.
“The previous mayor of this town got in with some bad folk and put up the name ‘Sansui Shirokuro’ to peddle all sorts of stuff! And the worst of it was this sword school!”
“I-I see...”
“He said he was inviting a disciple of Sansui Shirokuro to open a school here, and tore down the shops that were here to build this thing! But what he really did was stuff it with thugs and ex-soldiers and run a scam sword school to make a profit!”
“So it was exposed...”
“Yeah. We made ’em spill everything and handed ’em over to the lord! And we couldn’t stop there—we burned the sword school down along with all the other scam goods!”
It seemed this was not the work of someone with a grudge against Sansui Shirokuro.
Hearing that, the family felt relieved.
“Hey, papa, if the sword school were still standing, would you have done something?”
“Well, maybe I wouldn’t have gone this far... But yeah, I might’ve smashed it a bit.”
“Please stop saying scary things. You could just report it to the local lord.”
“You’re right. You, Lain, and Fanne are with me, after all.”
Prompted by Blois’s comment, Sansui changed his stance immediately. It wasn’t his job to destroy anything, and he certainly didn’t want to do such things while with his family.
“Well, now that the mystery’s solved, let’s head to the inn.”
The punishment had been a bit extreme, but Sansui felt reassured since it hadn’t been motivated by hatred toward him.
He had plenty of reasons to be hated, so it frightened him—but it seemed he had nothing to do with this case in the end.
With nothing left to worry about, they headed to the best inn in town and began the process of checking in.
“I have filled out our name and information,” Sansui said as he handed the registry book to the innkeeper.
“Yes, thank you. Then, I’ll show you to your room, Mr. Shir— Shirokuro?!”
The innkeeper glanced at the guestbook and cried out in surprise.
Given the timing, it was only natural.
“E-Excuse me, but do you have any kind of identification...?”
“Yes, of course.”
Somewhat surprised by the innkeeper’s reaction, Sansui showed him the documents he carried.
There were no photographs, so verifying identity was difficult, but the fine cloth wrapping and the elegant writing on high-quality paper was enough to convince the innkeeper that it was genuine.
“A-And, what brings you to our town...?”
The innkeeper, still visibly nervous, asked why they were visiting. Considering the major incident that had recently occurred, his fear was understandable.
To reassure him, Sansui explained, “We are getting married, and we are currently traveling to offer greetings here and there.”
“I-I see...”
The innkeeper looked relieved.
But the real commotion began from that moment on.
Sansui sensed a sudden shift in the atmosphere—so sharp it sent a strange chill down his spine.
“Blois, Lain. Let’s get to the room quickly.”
“Wh-What’s wrong?”
“What’s the matter, papa? You’re acting strange.”
“Just come.”
The family was guided to the best room in the two-story inn.
Gently nudging his confused wife and daughter inside, Sansui then stepped to the window and looked outside.
A crowd had gathered. Word was already spreading that Sansui was here.
The innkeeper shouted my name...
This world did have at least some concept of personal-information protection; reading aloud the names and identities written in the inn’s registry was considered improper. In fact, if inns commonly did such a thing, no one would ever write their real names.
Thus, it was the innkeeper’s fault for shouting his name aloud.
“That’s a lot of people,” Blois said.
“With that fraud incident, they must be wondering if I’m the real one. If they were crowding around someone with status, it would be considered disrespectful, but I’m just a combat instructor serving a noble, not a noble myself.”
Back when he traveled with Douve, nothing like this happened. People gathered occasionally, but only to watch from a distance.
The timing of the scandal played a part, but more importantly, Sansui’s status wasn’t high enough for bystanders to be punished for disrespect.
“This is bad. Fanne looks like she’s going to cry.”
“What? Oh—you’re right...”
Too many people had gathered, and little Fanne was terrified. Sansui noticed even before Blois, who was holding the baby, and he moved to solve the problem.
“I’ll go disperse the crowd a bit. I’ll be right back.”
“Yes... We’ll wait here.”
Sansui gently slipped out the window. Using Feather Step, he floated down and landed softly.
Unlike with wind magic, his descent was quiet and controlled. The townsfolk outside all gasped in astonishment.
“I apologize for causing a disturbance. I am Sansui Shirokuro, the Grand Instructor of Warfare.”
Sansui normally wasn’t the type to flaunt his Rare Art, but to make it unmistakably clear that he was the real one, he deliberately showed it in front of everyone.
“Sansui Shirokuro is said to use the Rare Arts, right?”
“Then this man—this person is the master of those combat instructors...”
“Isn’t he too young? No, wait—they say Rare Arts users often look young...”
A user of Rare Arts was awe-inspiring on sight alone; whether they fully believed he was the real one or not, they knew he was no ordinary man.
Well, it’s not like they have to believe me... But it would be bad to tarnish the honor Lamp and the others protected.
For his daughter’s sake, he needed to calm the area. Sansui decided to move the spectators along.
“Everyone, it seems you have some business with me. This place is a bit cramped, so if there is somewhere more spacious, please take me there.”
Sansui was implicitly signaling that he did not mind if things got rough.
He was not wearing his usual casual kimono; instead, he was dressed in clothing resembling that of an Arcana Kingdom noble.
It was, in short, stylish attire—but that caused no issues.
“Then...this way.”
The gathered townsfolk had no leader, of course. There was no one in charge—the town did not even have a new mayor yet. Even so, the place to guide him was obvious.
Once one person indicated the destination, everyone else immediately nodded and started moving. If one wanted to speak with Sansui Shirokuro in this town, there was only one place—the plaza where his disciples had displayed their prowess.
When they arrived at the location, where bloodstains still remained, Sansui understood what had happened by the lingering scent and the atmosphere.
Lamp and the others must have fought well. Even if they doubt whether I’m the real one, they don’t doubt the strength of the “Sansui Shirokuro” they know of.
When the townsfolk saw Sansui smiling happily, many of them grew uneasy. They had come to see whether the genuine Sansui Shirokuro was really here, not because they had any actual business with him.
And Sansui, for his part, had only wanted to draw people away from his daughters. Now that the crowd was away from the inn, the problem was already solved.
He could have let things naturally disperse without doing anything further, but someone pushed through the townsfolk and stepped forward.
“You’re Sansui Shirokuro?”
They were young men, visibly unsettled. Around ten of them—all carrying wooden swords. Their intent was clear to anyone.
“Yes, I am Sansui Shirokuro.”
“...Really?”
Despite Sansui’s calm demeanor, the young men did not hide their suspicion.
Having been deceived for so long, they were unable to trust someone based on attitude alone.
“We came to this town because we heard your disciples were teaching at a local sword school, but then the instructor and assistant instructor were beaten senseless by that Inke guy the lord brought in. Three in a row—killed like it was just a form exercise.”
“I see. He did it alone...”
“We paid a lot to that sword school, and that money is never coming back. We were wondering what to do...and then they say the real Sansui Shirokuro showed up.”
As the young men pressed closer to Sansui, the other townsfolk backed away. They fully expected something violent to occur and wanted distance.
“Whether you’re the real one or a fake, we know you aren’t the guy who tricked us. We get that, so we’re not asking for money. But...”
“If you want to test me...you may.”
Sansui carried neither a sword nor a wooden blade. No ceremonial weapon, no everyday practice sword.
And yet he lifted his hand toward the agitated young men.
“Please, come at me.”
Ordinarily, the young men with wooden swords would have had the overwhelming advantage.