I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

The moment Nathan and Shiina crossed into Death God Valley, the air changed.

It was not merely colder. It felt heavier, as if the mist itself carried weight. It clung to the ground in pale strips and coiled around the stones underfoot, moving too slowly to be wind and too steadily to be natural. The road descending from the eastern entrance was narrow and uneven, lined with old lantern posts whose flames looked weak and sickly behind clouded glass.

Below them, the valley spread in layers.

Houses had been built into the slopes in cramped rows, their roofs stacked one beneath another like scales on the body of some dead beast. Wooden bridges connected sections of the settlement where the rock split too sharply to walk across. Farther in, darker and higher than the rest, rose the central stronghold of the valley. Mitsuhide’s castle stood on black stone carved straight into the cliff, half fortress and half wound in the mountain. Even from this distance, it looked oppressive.

Shiina kept close beside Nathan as they walked.

”Cheerful place,” she murmured.

Nathan said nothing. His eyes moved over everything at once. The road, the buildings, the guards, the people. Most who passed them kept their heads low and their pace steady. No one lingered. No one laughed. Even conversation seemed subdued here, as if sound itself were discouraged.

Every now and then, Nathan caught sight of soldiers dressed in dark armor marked with Mitsuhide’s crest. They stood at intersections, near stairways, at the mouths of alleys, and at the foot of the roads leading higher into the valley. Too many for comfort. Too organized for a reckless assault.

”We need information before we go any deeper,” Nathan said quietly.

Shiina nodded. ”Then somewhere people still talk.”

They found it a little farther down the slope.

It was not a tavern, but a cramped little tea house wedged between a butcher’s stall and a shop selling candles and incense. Thin steam drifted from the doorway, carrying the scent of bitter tea and boiled vegetables. A few men sat inside with tired faces and lowered voices, while an old woman worked behind the counter with the blank look of someone too used to misery to react to it anymore.

Nathan and Shiina stepped in without drawing much attention. Their cloaks helped, but more than that, the valley itself had taught people not to stare too long at strangers.

They took a table near the back.

The old woman approached with little enthusiasm. ”Tea?”

”Yes,” Nathan said.

”For both of us,” Shiina added, then smiled faintly once the woman had walked off. ”I feel like if we ask for anything more, she might stab us.”

”She looks tired, not murderous.”

”You say that as if those cannot coexist.”

Nathan almost smiled.

The tea arrived in rough clay cups. It was hot, dark, and bitter enough to wake the dead. Nathan let the cup warm his fingers while he listened to the room.

At first, it was nothing useful.

Complaints about prices. A sick child. A cart axle breaking on the western road. A missing dog. Then, after several minutes, the conversation at the next table shifted.

”More prisoners were brought in this morning,” one man muttered.

His companion grunted. ”From where?”

”North side, I think. Maybe from outside the valley. Hard to tell. They came in before dawn.”

”Then it is for the mines or the lower cells.”

The first man lowered his voice even more. ”Not this time. I heard one of the guards say the lord Daimyo wants certain ones kept alive. Something about questioning.”

Nathan’s gaze did not move, but his attention sharpened.

Shiina, seated across from him, had heard it too. He could tell by the slight stillness that came over her.

The second man took a slow drink. ”Questioning? Then someone important must be among them.”

”Important or stubborn.”

”Same thing, usually.”

Nathan waited until the men moved on to another subject before speaking.

”Lower cells,” Shiina said softly. ”That sounds promising.”

”It does.”

She leaned forward slightly. ”And dangerous.”

”That was already true.”

Before they could say more, the tea house door opened again and two soldiers entered. Conversation dimmed at once. They were not high ranking men, but they carried themselves with the ugly confidence of those allowed to mistreat others without consequence. One of them laughed as he approached the counter.

”The usual,” he said.

The old woman bowed her head and moved to obey.

Nathan kept his posture relaxed. Beside him, Shiina lowered her face just enough for her hood to hide more of it.

The soldiers took a nearby table. They were loud, careless, and already half bored, which made them talkative. Within moments they were grumbling about duty assignments.

”I am telling you, I would rather stand at the outer gate all night than go down there again,” one of them said.

His companion snorted. ”Afraid of the prisoners?”

”Afraid of the smell.”

That earned a laugh.

”Then pray you are not sent to the old shrine tomorrow.”

At that, the first soldier frowned. ”Tomorrow?”

”You did not hear? The lord is going himself.”

That caught Nathan’s full attention.

”For what?”

The second soldier leaned back and smirked. ”Some special business. A ritual, maybe. Or an interrogation. The captain did not say much, only that the path to the old shrine has to be cleared and watched from morning onward.”

”Wonderful,” the other muttered. ”As if this valley was not cursed enough already.”

Nathan and Shiina exchanged a brief glance.

An old shrine. Mitsuhide himself. Tomorrow.

That mattered.

They stayed only a few minutes longer before leaving the tea house and returning to the street. Once outside, Shiina exhaled slowly.

”Well,” she said, ”that was useful.”

Nathan nodded. ”More than expected.”

”The lower cells might be where your old man is. And tomorrow Mitsuhide goes to an old shrine.” She glanced up toward the higher parts of the valley. ”I do not like the sound of either.”

”Neither do I.”

They moved deeper in, this time with a clearer purpose. Nathan wanted the layout. Roads, patrol routes, strongpoints, ways in and out. If they were going to strike, they needed more than rumors.

The valley narrowed as they advanced toward the center. The houses became poorer, the streets tighter, the people thinner. Twice they saw prisoners being marched under guard, wrists bound, faces bruised. Once, Nathan spotted a boy no older than fifteen carrying a bucket of water with both hands while a soldier shouted at him to move faster. No one interfered. No one even looked.

Mitsuhide ruled through fear. That much was obvious now.

When they reached a higher crossing road near the middle of the valley, they finally got a better view of the stronghold.

The castle was protected by more than walls. A sheer drop guarded one side, while the others were approached by only two broad roads and a series of stone steps that could easily be defended. Watchtowers overlooked the settlement below, and at the base of the cliff, partly hidden behind a storehouse and a line of prayer poles, Nathan noticed a barred structure built into the rock.

Shiina followed his gaze. ”That looks promising.”

”Or troublesome.”

”Usually the same thing.”

Nathan studied it carefully. The entrance was narrow, guarded by four men, with a larger patrol passing every few minutes. Not impossible. But not something to rush without a plan.

Then he noticed something else.

Near the barred entrance, carved into the cliff wall beside it, was an old symbol almost worn away by time. A circle split by three downward lines.

Shiina saw his expression change. ”What?”

”That mark,” Nathan said quietly. ”It is older than the prison.”

She narrowed her eyes. ”You know it?”

”I have seen something similar before.”

Was that in the temple of Yorimasa? He couldn’t recall yet but it was clearly an ancient symbol.

Shiina went still for a moment, then let out a small breath. ”You really know how to improve a situation.”

Before Nathan could answer, voices rose from below.

A group of soldiers was coming up the road.

He and Shiina stepped back at once, turning into the shadow of a narrow alley between two houses just as the patrol passed. They stood close there, half hidden by darkness and hanging laundry that smelled faintly of smoke and damp cloth.

The patrol moved on.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

Shiina’s shoulder brushed Nathan’s beneath the cloak. ”You know,” she said softly, ”for two people trying not to attract attention, we do spend a lot of time hiding dramatically in dark corners.”

”It is only dramatic because you are here.”

”Then I improve the mood.”

”Debatable.”

She smiled in the dark.

The moment was brief, but it passed just as quickly when a bell rang out from higher in the valley.

One strike.

Then another.

Then a third.

People on the street changed at once. Doors shut. Footsteps quickened. Lanterns were covered. Whatever the bell meant, the locals understood it immediately.

Nathan stepped out from the alley and caught the sleeve of a passing old man before he could hurry by.

”What is that bell?”

The man looked at him with alarm. ”Curfew. If you are still outside after the fourth bell, the night patrol takes you.”

He pulled free and hurried off without another word.

The fourth bell rang.

Shiina looked up toward the darkening roads. ”I take it we are done sightseeing.”

”For now.”

They withdrew before the patrols thickened, taking a lower path back toward the edge of the settlement. By the time they reached the eastern side again, the valley had become even quieter than before. It was the silence of people retreating behind closed doors, hoping not to be noticed by whatever ruled the night here.

Once they were far enough from the entrance and out of sight, Shiina pulled back her hood and let out a breath.

”So,” she said, ”we learned several comforting things.”

Nathan glanced at her.

”Mitsuhide has prisoners in lower cells,” she counted on her fingers. ”He is going to some old shrine tomorrow. The castle is a fortress. The prison may be built over a place tied to some weird rituals. And this entire valley is even more miserable than it looked from outside.”

”That is about right.”

”And your expression tells me you are thinking too much already.”

”I am planning.”

”That sounds less unhealthy when you say it like that.”

Nathan looked back toward the valley, toward the black shape of the castle rising over the mist. Somewhere in there, Genzo was likely still alive. Somewhere in there, Mitsuhide was preparing for tomorrow.

And if the old shrine mattered enough for the daimyo to leave his fortress in person, then tomorrow might be the only chance they would get.

”We go back,” Nathan said. ”We tell the others everything.”

Shiina studied him for a moment, then smiled, though there was no lightness in it this time.

”And tomorrow,” she said, ”someone dies.”

Together they turned from Death God Valley and made their way back through the dark toward the camp.