Sachihiro

"So, you wanted to speak to me. Speak," Kazimoto says while glaring at me between sips of tea.

The man isn't really all that to look at, very average looking. Average height for his people at 5"6' or 167cm, average weight and body type. Which is probably about 165 pounds and very fit without being overly muscular. Not that I have ever seen the man train.

"I was hoping the man I came here with, Asriel could join us," I say respectfully. Fiddling with my hakama to dispell some of the nerves he induces.

There are many form of dress I've been introduced to here but none as comfortable for combat as the hakama. Mine all have legs but with more than enough swinging room.

I have never been fully comfortable wearing clothing with undivided legs. Even kilts back at home leave me feeling vulnerable in my nether regions.

"I know who Asriel is and no, he cannot be here. He should be going through the forging or recovering by now. I'm losing my patients."

I nod. No point in not trusting this man now I pass him my storage ring since I can't open it myself. He takes it gingerly and rolls it around his finger, the thing is dull grey with etchings on the inside inlaid with luminous silver.

Suddenly his eyebrows shoot up and his eyes bulge in surprise. I grin behind my hand, at least the old bastard can be surprised. He silently looks from me to the ring then places it between us.

"Boy. I assume you know what is in that thing. The first question is how do such rings exist and I've never heard of them?"

I shrug, "I can't assume to know how the Hito do things but from what I've seen you aren't a very well-travelled people. At least on the surface."

He grunts and nods. "Your people made this?" He asks. Completely sober.

I shake my head, trying to read anything I can from him.

"My people have an alliance with the fae and they provide such things."

"In exchange for the ore I just sensed in there." He says catching on.

"Yes, in exchange for the ore. They are recent trading allies of my people. We are a warlike people that value combat and martial strength more than all else.

"But because of the vast amounts of celestial ore we have come across, we are going to be attacked on all fronts. My people will be in need of allies when that time comes. If it hasn't already come while I have been learning your ways here."

Kazimoto nods his understanding. Passing me a cup of tea he pours for me. I take it and sip, bowing my head in thanks.

"That ring uses mana, so I'm guessing you have no access to it as of yet," he correctly speculates.

"I don't, but I know all that is in there."

He grins.

"I was not asking with the intention of robbing you. My people settled here almost two thousand years ago because of the celestial mineral deposits, the easy access points to the Underworld, and the privacy it affords us from the rest of humanity.

"We are a people trying to redeem ourselves from a great failing. We have too much on our hands to involve ourselves with other people's problems. But maybe our people could benefit each other some other way. What is it that we could do for each other's people?"

I think about it for a moment because I have no idea. There is a lot I think our people could benefit from the Hito. A lot that I have benefited from these people I doubt my people would never appreciate.

Swords? The sword is great but it's a secondary weapon to the tribesmen and these Hito swords are too light and thin to satisfy a Barbarian Tribesman. Their tea is nice and all but not that good, they have some magic but nothing we could ever learn.

Their training is not compatible with Barbarian bodies since most Barbarians are bigger than me and not flexible enough to master the forms. Hito styles are designed for them mainly;hort, fast, flexible people. But they do know vampires, and they have access to the Underworld...

"Alright. Let's discus and maybe we can think of something." I say and lean forward.

 

We stay a while drinking tea and sake. I noticed another side of the Madman. A side filled with disted humour and hope.

By the time the night became deep I am lousily drunk and having a good time. Speaking loudly and giggling.

The man can drink.

 

Eventually, I agreed to have a weapon forged and a spiritual 'normal' o-katana, if you can ever call spiritual weapons normal. Along with having Mira and Saya similarly outfitted if they so chose, I'm smartly thinking ahead securing a promise that Saya, Mira and I can make a permanent home here someday if we so choose.

For my people access to the underworld and help getting a settlement prepared there. I had seen what the fae were doing for the tribes as I left, and it was good. Maybe these people could give do for us something similar though I'm not sure if anyone in the Tribes would appreciate it.

It doesn't take much iron to make a katana, it takes very little in fact which is helping them manage the perishable resource better but I bet they could always use more. The vampires will be more than eager to help make soul-weapons Kazimoto assured.

Soul weapons apparently don't always have to be swords and I am imagining an Awakened Barbarian with a soul-axe, what a terrifying prospect. If soul-weapons are as rare and powerful as Asriel's excitement seemed to imply then they are the greatest treasure I could get from these people.

Unfortunately I could only secure one for myself Mira and little Says with the ore I had in the ring.

It was a long night but we preserved.

Come morning the training had ended and we had a soul-forging to prepare for.

*

Preparations take a month at the end of which Asriel returns with a shiny new staff as a zanpakuto. Decorated by beautiful delicate glyphs, quiet with an innate aura of danger.

The staff is long at 6"7' or 2m, but he seemed to handle it without issue. It looks to be made of iron with the end sections at the top and bottom made of glistering hardened steel, very beautifully made. I liked that not all soul-weapons forged here are swords, though I was told so I didn't really expect to witness it and Asriel does seem happy with his new acquisition.

He looks haggard though and doesn't even try to communicate. He looks a mess; thin, frail, traumatized. I join the cloistered in fasting and meditation in preparation for my own forging. Developing my chakras and mind.

There is some type of cleansing ceremony involving bathing. But besides that and being seen by one of the vampires for an inspection of some kind everything is fine.

The ore is taken to another village where it is treated and made into some kind of fine iron sand made so finely it’s difficult to identify individual granules with the naked eye. This is a secret process kept only between two clans as its holders apparently.

I am brought forward and it's explained how things will work.

''You have the option of amputating a part of your body for the bones to be added to the fire when smelting the iron-sand. a finger, a hand, an arm or anything you're willing to sacrifice to increase affinity.''

These people are crazy, no wonder Asriel was so haggard. Fuck it, ''you can take my hand.'' I've already lost a hand before and can live with it.

My arm is brought to the chopping block.

[QHA], my forearm is shortened in half.

The bleeding is stopped, the stump is quickly numbed and treated.

Most things are a daze after that.

There is compartmentalization I identify by the colours the people wear at different stages of the process, another two clans in black robes are in control of the smelting iron into steel for the making of a katana. The secrets here are jealously divided and guarded, I am all eyes, I am all ears.

From smelting to forging it takes an entire team of professionals days to complete the process, the master of each discipline going without sleep during their respective stages. Along with the sword's intended wielder of course, who only sleeps when the process is complete.

I can feel the gravitas of this process on my shoulders like a boulder. I listen and do as I'm told going where I'm pointed. I spend my of my time in a loincloth sweating like a hog from the heat down here. The longer I'm down here the more nervous I get, what have I gotten myself into?

It's the ambience, the ambience and screams echoing as if from a great distance that brings home for me how crazy I am to gamble with my soul.

Furnace masters keep vigil for three days as iron sand and charcoals are poured at the top and the fires are stoked through the air inlets at the bottom. The mixture is carefully monitored by watching the colours of the flames in a process that's more alchemy than smelting, I am part of every process.

No food, barely any sleep, no explanations most of the time. I just do as I'm told stoking fires, shoving iron sand, watching the material melt in hues of red and orange. All one handedly, all inefficiently in my dazed, tired state.

''These are your bones.''

I watch them add my bones to the fiery liquid in the crucible.

''Using the bones of honoured foes or mighty animals usually resulted in bloodthirsty blades that usually ended up driving the wielder insane. Thus, the practice was abolished in the Shimane clans. But some clans still practice such to make the zanpakuto more dangerous,'' one of the smiths is a talker which I appreciate.

''You should have added more bones, the greater your sacrifice to the fire the greater your affinity with the finished weapon.''.

Fuck, maybe I really should have added more bones, I hope I don't miss out on any benefits after everything I've been through.

*

Mira

When Hiro told me he was getting a zanpakutō I at first didn't believe him. When he said I could have one too I knew he was full of shit. When he said Saya would have one when old enough as well I started to believe him.

He might be an idiot sometimes but he never jokes about our little girl and I love that about him. Knowing that he would kill even me to protect this precious little girl is comforting. A feeling I never knew as a child.

We discussed how he managed it and he told me about the ore. It explained a few things, like the presence of the fae in the Barbarian lands.

Master Zhen and Crysta had spoken of an expedition to the fae lands before everything. But having the fae come to them must have cured them of that interest, scary people the fae, hard to believe I'm part fae myself but the red hair is a dead giveaway.

A zanpakuto, this might help cure my mana channels or at the least give me an alternative form of power right? I'm not stupid, I recognise power when I feel it so I'm gratefully jumping at the opportunity. I never want to be weak again, I will never again be a slave.

I go through the preparation process. We watched those that are ready go through the smelting and then forging house with trepedition. Sometimes the screams start at the smelting house as samurai lost their limbs, most don't make a sound when amputated. Either way there is always screaming at the forging house as they lost parts of their souls. Terrible screaming worse than anything I've ever heard in the slave pens.

Terrible screaming that reaches the meditation hall from the underground passes despite the thick walls separating us.

Fear grips me but I distract myself, I keet thinking of the type of weapon I'd like made. I am almost as good with the katana as I am with the kusarigama. But the kusarigama is a specialised weapon that could give me many advantages just for its uniqueness alone.

When Hiro also mentioned that I would get a normal samurai sword as well it was decided. A soul forged kusari-gama and a spiritual katana. Easy decision.

The kusarigama is very difficult to block efficiently and erratic in its movement. There are only a few people even amongst the Hito that practise it full time. The only family that has a style for it is the Xui family of the Han clan and somehow Hiro has organised for them to give me lessons after this. If I survive that is.

My turn to loose some bones comes, I'm not an self-mutilating idiot so I choose to lose my middle fingers in both hands to the flames. The master smelter is Kihara Akira, a man honoured amongst the clans for his skill and know-how. Dedicated to his craft and teaching any who want to apprentice with him. Most of whom are also smith apprentices.

The old smith masters are different though. It takes a team of metalsmiths to make a samurai sword. One of whom has to be the intended recipient, another a samurai and at least one more, the master swordsmith.

[Ahhhh]!

The screaming drives a shiver down my spine, was that Sachi? Fuck, Sachi never screams. Fuck!