I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

“Help us free the South of the Daimyos.”

Nathan let the request settle into silence. He stood there in the cool forest air, Genzo’s words hanging between them like a challenge laid out plain on the table, and felt the familiar shape of expectation pressing against him from all sides.

Maybe he should have seen this coming. Maybe not. The shinobis had buried their previous chief under the weight of whatever the capital’s games had done to them — a history Ayame had hinted at without spelling out — and yet here was Genzo, their current leader, reaching for the kind of involvement that should have stayed in the ground with him. Asking a stranger to help carve the rot out of the South, to break the Daimyos’ hold before it metastasized into something that swallowed everything else.

“No.”

The word came out flat.

Genzo didn’t flinch. “Why? You accepted Ayame-sama’s request without hesitation. Killed Yorimasa at her word. But mine you refuse?”

Nathan’s gaze went cold. “Who do you take me for? Some sellsword you can point at a problem and watch it bleed out?”

He was done with it. Done being shuttled from one fire to the next, handed names and reasons that weren’t his own, told to end lives for people he’d met yesterday. Yorimasa had been different — a direct threat to Ayame’s women in Minato, a necessity tied to the larger task Kaguya had asked him. This felt like something else. A mercenary’s bargain, dressed up in grander language.

Genzo shook his head once, measured, unoffended. “Not a mercenary. Someone who might actually shift things here in Kastoria. Someone who could matter. At the very least — hear me out.”

Nathan held his stare a long moment. The nausea still simmered low in his gut, a constant undercurrent, and the bandaged wound at his neck throbbed with every heartbeat. He had no time for detours. But Genzo wasn’t begging. He was offering a door cracked open just enough to look through. Reluctantly, Nathan nodded.

He followed Genzo down a side path to a low-roofed house tucked deeper into the trees, its wooden walls blending into the trunks around it. Inside, a simple table waited, polished smooth by years of hands resting on it during conversations like this one. Genzo gestured to a cushion. Nathan lowered himself onto it, movements careful against the protest of his body. Yukihime positioned herself directly behind him — close enough that he felt the faint chill radiating off her, her black eyes fixed on Genzo with a wariness that bordered on open threat.

Genzo took the seat across from them. “Tea for us, Tanaka,” he said without looking away, his voice carrying just far enough.

A woman appeared from a side room — quiet, efficient, gone again before anyone could acknowledge her fully.

“What do you want to discuss,” Nathan said, skipping the formalities.

Genzo leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table. “First — what is it you want, exactly?”

Nathan almost laughed. “Didn’t Ayame make that clear? I want her on the throne of Kastoria. Ruling until Haruka’s son comes of age.”

“She did mention that.” Genzo’s expression stayed even. “And that she’d asked you to convince us to provide her security again. Like before.”

“Then what else is there?”

“Why.” Genzo’s gaze sharpened. “Why are you doing this.”

Nathan paused. Turned the question over. There were layers to it he could peel back — Kaguya’s request, the poison gnawing at him that might need resources beyond what he could scrape together alone, the simple calculus of an alliance that benefited the path he’d been thrown onto. No, it was a lot of more complicated than that. He was doing it for himself but also for his women such as Kaguya and Amaterasu. But he kept it simple.

“I want the Kastorian Kingdom allied properly. That only happens with Haruka’s line holding the throne. Takehiko can’t be trusted — won’t be allowed on it, not by me. Not after what he’s done.”

Genzo tilted his head slightly. “So you’re not from here. As expected.”

“Does it matter?” Nathan shot back. “Any sane person would pick Ayame over him. The things I’ve heard about Takehiko — the rumors don’t do him justice.”

“You’re right.” Genzo’s mouth quirked faintly, not quite a smile. “I’d sleep better with Ayame-sama wearing the crown. I’d protect her myself if it came to that.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes. “Then?”

Genzo’s expression hardened. “I can’t leave the South to the Daimyos. They’re not just holding it — they’re hollowing it out. Turning it to ruin. And they’re hungry for more. War’s coming if they’re not stopped.”

Nathan leaned back slightly, the wood of the chair creaking under him. “Norihiro wants the throne. Wants to resurrect the Shogunate under his boot.”

Genzo’s eyes narrowed, surprise flickering there before he masked it. “You’re well-informed.”

Nathan didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. Sadamasa’s words had been clear enough. Trustworthy, in its own bitter way and Nathan doubted Sadamasa lied to him. He really seemed sincere when he showed his reluctance to support Norihiro.

The tea arrived then, steaming faintly in simple clay cups. Tanaka set them down with a bow and vanished again, leaving the three of them in silence again.

Genzo let the silence sit for a moment after laying out Norihiro’s ambitions, watching Nathan with the patience of a man who had learned long ago that the right pressure applied at the right time often did more than any argument.

“Norihiro doesn’t merely threaten the South,” he said, his voice even but carrying an undercurrent that made it land heavier than it otherwise might have. “He threatens everything north of it. The capital. Kaguya-sama herself. Anyone tied to the old court. If Ayame takes the throne as you intend — and I have no doubt she would do it well — Norihiro will come for her too. An army at his back. Resources you’ve only begun to imagine.” He paused, letting Nathan fill in the shape of it. “Can you defend them all? Alone?”

Nathan didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The quiet was confirmation enough.

“I want the threat ended,” Genzo continued, leaning forward slightly, his hands still folded on the table. “Not delayed. Not negotiated with. Ended, here in the South, before it has the chance to march north and turn your plans to ash. Help us do that, and you secure everything you’re after. Kaguya lives. Ayame rules. Kastoria stabilizes under someone who won’t burn it down for personal gain. You have more to gain from this than I do.”

Nathan’s gaze dropped to the tea, untouched and cooling between them. Steam no longer rose from it.

He had known the Daimyos were a problem. Of course he had. Yorimasa alone had proven that — a man carrying a diluted fragment of a god-killing venom in his veins, strong enough to drop Nathan after a fight that should have been survivable. But knowing it in the abstract and seeing it laid out like this were different animals. His original plan had been straightforward: retrieve Ayame, deliver her to the capital, neutralize Takehiko, let Kaguya handle the southern mess from a position of strength once the throne was secured. Clean lines. Manageable steps.

Except the Daimyos weren’t a mess to be handled later. They were a fire already spreading, and Norihiro — whatever he was, whoever backed him — clearly had the resources and the will to make good on his threats. An army. Poison. Ambition that didn’t stop at borders. If he marched on the capital with half the power Genzo was implying, Takehiko’s schemes would be irrelevant because there’d be no throne left to fight over. Kaguya wouldn’t survive it. Amaterasu’s influence in Kastoria — the real reason Nathan had waded into this at all, the quiet machinery he’d been turning by hand — would crumble before it could take root.

He had come here to protect that. To build something lasting out of alliances and thrones and careful positioning. Ignoring the South to chase the capital first suddenly felt less like efficiency and more like a gamble he couldn’t afford to lose. If Norihiro succeeded — if the Daimyos consolidated and struck while Nathan was entangled elsewhere — every step he’d taken so far would unravel. Regret was a luxury he didn’t have room for. Not with poison still gnawing at his veins, not with time slipping faster than he could reclaim it.

If he wanted really Kastoria on his side, the throne then must be untouchable when he leaves Kastoria and Kaguya’s position must be unbreakable not only in the capital but in the whole Kingdom of Kastoria.

He drew a slow breath. Let it settle.

Then he lifted his eyes to Genzo’s.

“I’ll help you get rid of the remaining Daimyos.”

Genzo didn’t smile. He didn’t nod with visible relief. He simply held Nathan’s gaze for a beat longer, as though confirming the words weren’t said in haste or anger, then inclined his head once — the barest acknowledgment of an agreement sealed.