The seven clan leaders sat in a tense semicircle, their gazes locked on the strangers before them. These were no ordinary men. Their skin had a yellowish hue, their faces bore scars of war, and their weapons—though worn—spoke of battles fought on foreign soil.

  The people of the settlement whispered among themselves. These exiles resembled the raiders who had terrorized their lands in the past. Could they be trusted?

  Kofi, Lima, and Sawai stood at Osei’s side, their hands resting on their hilts. They did not trust these men. Not yet.

  Then, the tallest among the exiles stepped forward. His eyes were sharp as a hawk’s, his stance unwavering.

  “I am Shigen no Rihishito.”

  Kofi and Lima exchanged glances, confusion flickering across their faces.

  Osei leaned forward. “And so?”

  Shigen chuckled. “I do not expect you to fully grasp the gravity of what is happening.” His voice darkened. “But you had best be ready—to leave these lands or fight for your lives.”

  Murmurs spread through the gathered warriors. Some shifted uneasily, others tightened their grips on their spears.

  The leader of the Red Fang Clan, a broad-shouldered man named Karu, spoke up. “We understand the threat, stranger. But tell me—who were the men impaled in the forest? And where are our women?”

  A heavy silence settled over the room.

  Shigen stood, turning his back to them momentarily. Then, he spoke.

  “Three nights ago, in Shuri, a notice was delivered to the council.”

  Sawai frowned. “What is Shuri?”

  Lima elbowed him sharply. “Shut up and listen.”

  Shigen continued, unfazed. “The notice came from a scout. An unknown people had arrived on our shores. The council of Shuri debated their intentions, but there was no unity. I was on the losing side of that debate.”

  He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

  “The first round of discussions ended in favor of the Butcher of Lika Island.”

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  The room fell eerily silent. Even the torches seemed to burn lower.

  Kofi’s voice broke the stillness. “Who is the Butcher?”

  Shigen’s gaze darkened. He exhaled sharply before answering.

  “His name is Yoshiru the Black Tide. A warlord unlike any you have faced before. Ruthless. Unforgiving. He does not take prisoners, only trophies.”

  Sawai clenched his fists. “And the people who opposed him?”

  Shigen’s jaw tightened. “Those who dissented were branded traitors and pursued out of Shuri.”

  Lima’s face hardened. “Then… the men we found in the forest?”

  Shigen’s expression was grim. “They were my comrades. Those who could not escape the Butcher’s wrath.”

  Gasps rippled through the gathering. Some of the warriors cursed under their breath, others whispered prayers to their ancestors.

  Osei’s hands trembled with barely restrained fury. He turned to the other clan leaders. “We must discuss our course of action.”

  Karu of the Red Fang Clan spoke up. “Before that—Shigen. Tell us.” His voice was firm, but there was desperation behind it. “What of our women?”

  A painful silence stretched between them.

  Shigen lowered his head.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered. His voice cracked, his shoulders trembling. “They… didn’t make it.”

  A chill ran through the room. The words struck harder than any sword.

  Osei’s breath quickened, his vision turning red. His hand shot to the hilt of his blade, and for a moment, it seemed as if he would cut Shigen down where he stood.

  Kofi and Lima stepped forward, ready to hold him back if necessary.

  Shigen took a slow breath, composing himself. “I can show you.”

  The warriors followed Shigen beyond the walls of the settlement, moving through the trees with heavy steps. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves.

  Then they saw it.

  The stream.

  Bodies floated lifelessly, their hair splayed out like dark tendrils in the water. Arrows jutted from their backs, their dresses torn, their faces turned toward the sky in eternal silence.

  The warriors stood frozen. Some turned away. Others fell to their knees, grief twisting their faces into masks of agony.

  Kofi’s breath came in ragged gasps, his nails digging into his palms. Lima covered his mouth, his entire body trembling. Sawai cursed under his breath, unable to look away.

  Osei fell to his knees, his hands gripping the wet earth beneath him.

  Karu of the Red Fang Clan let out a broken cry. Others joined him, their wails echoing through the trees.

  The settlement had lost more than just their women. They had lost hope.

  Kofi clenched his fists. “Yoshiru the Black Tide… we will burn his name from history.”

  Osei turned to Shigen, his eyes filled with barely restrained rage. “If you knew this… if you saw what happened… why did you come here?”

  Shigen looked at him, his face lined with sorrow. “Because you are next.”

  The words sent a chill through them all.

  “The Butcher will not stop here,” Shigen continued. “He will come for your lands, your children, your legacy. He will carve his name into the bones of your people unless you stand and fight.”

  The evening sky bled into hues of deep purple as the clan leaders reconvened. The firelight flickered across their solemn faces.

  Shigen stood in the center of them. His fate—and theirs—hung in the balance.

  Osei exhaled deeply before speaking.

  “You have told us much, Shigen no Rihishito. But now… tell us this.”

  He leaned forward, his voice a blade cutting through the silence.

  “What do you propose?”

  The fate of their people rested on the answer.