A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

"Are you sure he’ll come?" Kitajo asked. They had been standing waiting in the cold night air for a while by now, and they had yet to see or otherwise sense any sign of combat master Kuraka.

"He will. He’s as intrigued as we are, despite appearances." Momochi assured him. The words they exchanged were hushed, as they did not want to want to wake any of the sleeping monks. In the forest, as they were, there was at least some distance separating them from.

Gengyo was quiet, and calm. He held a training spear in his hand, with the shaft firmly planted into the dry dirt ground underfoot. This clearing was a perfect place for the kind of duel he wished to have. To be frank, he was glad that Soroko and Momochi had opted for a more reserved, and secretive duel. There was always the danger of becoming merely a performing act. The last duel had served its purpose in getting Kuraka to notice his skill, now they only needed to wait for the man himself.

"Did you truly master the Lone Dragon’s Judgement? You were in there a good few hours... But still, it shouldn’t have been that quick." Soroko asked, almost nervous. Gengyo had refused to demonstrate it once leaving, claiming that it was something only to be reserved for battle. And there was a distance in his eyes as he spoke to them, as though he was thinking something over in that head of his.

"I have not performed it, yet. But I feel that I have mastered it." He replied, keeping his eyes firmly pinned on the path that he knew Kuraka would soon walk down.

Soroko and Momochi shared a glance at such an unusual reply. Surely it was impossible to master a technique without ever performing it? But since knowledge of hidden techniques was so foggy, they could not really question him.

The hairs on the back of his neck raised slightly, and his eyes closed in a slow blink. When they reopened, a familiar monk filled his vision, not bothering to hide his open hostility.

"Soroko tells me you’ve mastered a hidden technique? Hah. I don’t dare believe it. An outsider will never reach the standard of a pure monk." He spat.

"Yes, yes. Kuraka, remember what we agreed to? Duel the boy, and then speak afterwards. He’s got skill. It’s not something you can attempt to explain with reason. Truthfully, it goes against much of what we know – but in our scriptures, we were being told of such events all along." Soroko pressed. He felt that the only way to make Kuraka understand was to have him experience a fight with the lad first hand. It would be far deeper and more meaningful than any conversation they were to have.

"Heh, very well, I will defeat your pet, and then we will talk once more, and you will see things as I do." Kuraka muttered, a devilish smile curling his lips. He had not enjoyed this period of distance between him, Soroko, and Momochi. And the cause of it? This outsider.

The monk moved faster than ought to be possible, and raised his hand up toward Gengyo’s face. The young man’s startling eyes clocked his every movement, yet he did not even flinch as the hand came down, and knocked his spear from his grasp.

"If you have true mastery of your techniques, then you will not need a spear to perform them."

"As you will."

Put off by the boy’s confidence – which he simply put down to arrogance – he lunged in to attack straight away, sending his fist crashing forward with all the speed and power that he could muster.

Two palms brushed past one another to block the strike, interlocking together. His eyes widened in surprise, not only because his strike was blocked, but because of the manner in which it was blocked.

"Were those... Sparks?" Soroko questioned, hardly believing his eyes. Surely such a thing should not be possible? There was no way a human body could produce enough heat to cast sparks into the air.

Panicked by the existence of a technique that he had not seen before, Kuraka sort to claim the victory before it was allowed to act out its purpose. He swung his leg forward, and spun, hitting hard with the other leg, and then he transitioned into a swift elbow from his right arm, that led to a punch from his left. The fastest and most piercing of combinations that he was able to summon. His own technique, filled with resentment.

And yet... Against all that. Against a fist that had been honed for decades, and movements that had been moulded and polished so that they were as smooth and as swift as sliding on ice. Even still, the boy’s guard remained unbroken.

"Lone Dragon’s Judgement..." He muttered under his breath, he eyes becoming vacant.

"Gugh..!" Before he knew what had happened, his knees had collapsed from under him, and he had fallen ungracefully to the floor. Fear began to set in, as he realized he could not control any part of his body. Trapped within the gaze of the boy’s golden eyes, he felt as if gravity had increased tenfold, and was pressing against him. His will was not his own – he was completely at Gengyo’s mercy.

"What happened? Is this the Lone Dragon’s Judgement?" Soroko asked with panic in his voice. He was worried that Kuraka was dying. There was no other way to explain the state of his being.

"Aye... Aye, that’s definitely it." Momochi muttered, in awe. "I can’t believe I’m seeing it in person – it’s been centuries since someone has been able to use it. The talent needed to wield it to such a degree, I can’t even fathom... Just like when a surprised deer freezes, so too does the Lone Dragon’s Judgement make its prey freeze. The opponent is made aware of the acute difference between the two of them, and the body responds as though it had been faced with the gaze of a real dragon."

"Surrender... I surrender..." Kuraka just barely managed to force out those words. As soon as he heard that, Gengyo released the technique as quickly as he had applied it, and for the first time since leaving the chamber, he smiled.

"It really did work."

"It did better than just work, Miura. It brought one of the strongest monks in all of Japan to his knees." Soroko muttered, shaking his head in exasperation. It was difficult to process such a result. Of course, this is what they had been aiming for, but to think the match would not even be close.

Kuraka coughed on the floor, struggling to return to his feet.

"Lone... Lone Dragon’s Judgement, did you say?"

"That’s right," Gengyo replied.

"Hah... So that’s what... That’s what that was." He was so terrified that he seemingly forgot to show his usual animosity toward Gengyo.

"So, did I pass?" The young man asked, turning to Soroko and Momochi with a small smile. They had been working toward this for a good while now, and each day he had longed to return to his people, but now the moment was finally about to pass, he felt apprehensive.

"...You’re a little monster, Miura." Momochi stated honestly, but then he allowed a smile to break free. "Aye, you definitely passed. That talent you have – it’s terrifying... In such a short amount of time, you absorbed everything we could possibly teach you. You’re ready, without a doubt, you’re ready."

"The Daimyo, eh? I fear for the man. Leaving here, you do so with immense power, Miura. Keep your mind right, and remember your honour. There are people in this world worth protecting – ordinary people, perhaps, but people none the less. When you come to rule, do not allow the shift in power to change you. Be just, Miura." Soroko lectured, seemingly as worried about him leaving as he was.

"Daimyo... This little twiglet is going to challenge the bloody Daimyo?" Kuraka cackled, seemingly greatly amused. "Haha... Oh god, this province is doomed. Better plan your changes in advance, boy, the likes of Imagawa will be unable to stand in your way."

Uncomfortable with Kuraka’s lack of hostility, Gengyo was unsure quite how to respond.

"I will prepare accordingly..." Was all he could manage. His words caused that false smile to wipe its way from Kuraka’s face.

"Heh... I will be glad when you are gone. Outsiders do not belong in this temple." He stated, before pausing for a moment. "However, I regret not paying more attention to you. Momochi and Soroko were wiser than I in noticing your talents. It will forever be my shame that I rejected him with more aptitude than I."

"Don’t go apologising, Kuraka old friend. It does not become of you. There are three masters because we are each different, and are capable of different things. Do not fret over this small matter. You are still the strongest monk in this temple." Momochi slapped him on the shoulder, attempting to free him from his seriousness.

"There are many more things you are capable of, Kuraka-sensei, do not write yourself off so early," Gengyo said, as humbly as he was able. "I hope to return here in future – we can have another duel then, if you’d like?"

The monk looked back at him in surprise, both eyebrows raised. It took him a few moments before he finally understood the motive behind Gengyo’s words.

"Hah... Alright, boy. I’ll be ready to meet you then." He stated firmly, returning Gengyo’s smile.

There, in the cold moonlit forest, the two groups of very different people finally parted ways, and as they walked away from one another, they began the first steps of their own journies. No doubt their paths would cross once again in future, but for now, Miura Tadakata had ceased his monkhood, and would once more assume the mantle of a ruler, and a general, and the first order of business in such a role was to secure the troops that he had set out to recruit.

"Kitajo."

"Yes, Miura?"

"I’m looking forward to this."

"Me too - it’s been too long."