I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Chapter 769: Sakura’s pain

Once Nathan made up his mind to go to Death God Valley, there was no room left for hesitation. Mitsuhide had to be dealt with, and Genzo had to be brought back. Everything else could wait.

For now, there was a brief truce with Norihiro. Uneasy, fragile, and built on mutual necessity more than trust, but a truce all the same. As proof of that, Norihiro had sent Shiina to accompany him.

Nathan had accepted her help in the end. He did not trust the arrangement, but he understood its value.

He stopped just before the road bent toward the outer district and looked at her. “Wait for me at the entrance gates. I will join you there.”

Shiina slowed and turned back, one brow lifting. “Fine. But do not you dare leave without me, all right?”

A faint smile touched Nathan’s face. “It would be a mistake to head there without a weapon like you.”

That earned him a wide grin. “Exactly.”

She walked off with an easy confidence, her steps light, almost playful, though Nathan knew better than to mistake that for carelessness. Shiina was dangerous, and she knew it.

Once she disappeared down the street, Nathan turned sharply and rose into the air. In the next moment he was moving fast above the rooftops, cutting through the evening wind on his way back to the inn.

The village below felt too quiet. Doors were shut. Lanterns glowed behind paper windows. Smoke rose in thin pale streams into the darkening sky. For a moment the whole place seemed to hold its breath, caught between fear and exhaustion after everything that had happened.

Nathan landed outside the inn and headed inside without wasting a second. He climbed the stairs, reached the room, and knocked twice against the wood.

“It is me.”

There was a short pause. Then the lock shifted.

Hanzo opened the door just enough to see him, then stepped aside. Nathan entered, and she closed it behind him at once.

The room was dim, lit only by a single lamp placed near the wall. The air carried the faint scent of oil, old wood, and the remains of untouched food. Sakura and Akiko sat on the floor near the far side of the room. Their restraints had been removed, but there was nowhere for them to run, and they knew it.

Akiko looked up first. Her eyes were red with strain, but she still gathered the courage to speak. “Please release us. At least… at least let the Hime go.”

Sakura turned to her immediately. “I am not leaving without you, Akiko.”

There was no hesitation in her voice. Fear, yes. Exhaustion, certainly. But not hesitation.

Nathan looked at both of them before answering. “You will remain here for now. But as I said before, no harm will come to either of you as long as you do not force our hand.”

Akiko lowered her eyes, tense and unhappy, but she said nothing more.

Sakura slowly lifted her gaze to him. Even now she carried herself with a quiet dignity, though it was fraying under the weight of everything around her. “What is it that you want, Ryo sama?”

Nathan met her eyes. “I want your father to stop this war. I met him not long ago, and he did not seem very interested in doing that.”

The words struck her at once.

Her face paled. “You… you met father?”

There was shock in her voice, but also something deeper. Worry. Not for herself, but for him.

Nathan noticed it and found himself studying her more carefully. “He is alive,” he said. “Though I admit I am surprised you still care for him this much when he does not seem to care nearly enough for you.”

That was not entirely true. Norihiro did want his daughter back. Nathan had seen that much. But it was not the kind of desperation that cast everything else aside. His ambition still stood above all else. Even now, with Sakura taken, his eyes remained fixed on power, on war, on the throne he meant to claim. Becoming Shogun and taking Kastoria mattered more to him than anything.

Sakura lowered her head, her fingers tightening in the fabric of her sleeve. “He is still my father.”

Nathan’s voice turned colder. “Even after everything he has done, you still speak for him?”

Her head jerked up at once. “No. I am not defending him. I would never defend what he has done.”

The answer came too quickly to be rehearsed. It was honest. Desperate, perhaps, but honest.

Nathan let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking again. “It changes nothing. Your father has gone too far. Once I finish another matter, I will deal with Norihiro.”

At that, Sakura rose so suddenly that Hanzo moved at once, her body tensing, ready to intercept her if she tried anything.

Nathan lifted a hand slightly, stopping Hanzo without looking away from Sakura.

Sakura stood still where she was. Her face was pale, but her voice, when it came, held more steadiness than before. “Killing my father will not solve this.”

Nathan said nothing.

She took a breath and forced herself to continue. “He is loved in the south. If you kill him, it will not end the hatred. It will deepen it. It will give people another reason to cling to their anger. The divide between north and south will only grow worse.”

Her hands trembled, but she did not sit back down.

“I think you know that already,” she said more quietly. “If you did not, Ryo sama, then you would have killed him already, just as you did Yorimasa sama.”

The room fell still.

Nathan looked at her in silence.

She was more perceptive than many gave her credit for. Beneath her fear, beneath the sheltered image others likely placed on her, there was intelligence. She understood the danger of her father, but she also understood the danger of removing him carelessly.

And she was right.

If Nathan wanted only blind murdering, Norihiro would already be dead.

But this was larger than one man. However dangerous Norihiro was, he still held the south together. Not well, not justly, but firmly enough that his sudden death would shatter what little order remained. The result would be chaos, power struggles, and more bloodshed. Everything Nathan had fought for until now could collapse into ruin if he left the south leaderless and broken.

He had thought of that long before this conversation. In truth, the beginnings of a plan had already started to take shape in his mind. A dangerous one, and incomplete.

For that, he needed Genzo back.

Genzo knew the south far better than Nathan ever could. He understood its loyalties, its factions, its fault lines. Nathan was still an outsider in many ways, no matter how much blood he had shed on this land. If there was a path forward that did not leave Kastoria in flames, Genzo would see it more clearly than anyone.

At last Nathan spoke.

“I am not going to kill him blindly.”

Sakura’s tense shoulders eased, though only a little.

“But do not mistake that for mercy,” Nathan continued. “Your father will be dealt with. The only question is how.”

Her lips parted, but no answer came.

Akiko was the one who broke the silence first.

“If Norihiro sama truly does not care about the Hime, then you should release her…”

Nathan turned his eyes toward her, his expression unreadable.

“No,” he said. “She stays here.”

The answer was immediate, leaving no room for argument.

There were reasons for it, though none he intended to share with them. Sakura could still become important in what was to come, especially if matters with Norihiro grew worse. But that was only part of it. More than that, Nathan did not want her cast back into the chaos waiting outside these walls.

If Norihiro fell, Sakura’s life would be in danger.

Ayame had been right about that.

As Norihiro’s daughter, as his blood, she would remain a symbol no matter what happened to him. To some, she would be a possible heir. To others, a threat that needed to be erased before she could ever become one. And in the north especially, where hatred had been fed for too long, there would be those who would gladly see her dead simply for the name she carried.

For now, this room was safer than the world beyond it.

But Nathan was not about to explain any of that.

“You will remain here,” he said, his voice firm.

Sakura looked up at him, gathering what little hope she had left. “Maybe… maybe I can speak to my father. I could convince him…”

Nathan’s patience broke at once.

“You will not,” he snapped. “He does not care about you. Do you not understand that?”

The words hit harder than he intended, but once spoken, he did not take them back.

What angered him was not simply her stubbornness. It was the blind faith beneath it. The desperate need to believe that somewhere behind all the cruelty and ambition, there was still a father who would choose her over his own power.

Nathan knew that kind of hope too well.

Once, he had looked at his own father the same way. He had believed the pain had a purpose. Believed the control, the pressure, the breaking of his spirit had somehow been for his own good. He had clung to that lie because the truth had been worse. The truth was that love twisted into cruelty was still cruelty.

Only after being torn from that life, thrown into this world, and forced through hardship after hardship had he begun to rebuild himself. Only after finding people who truly cared for him, people who chose him without trying to crush him, had he learned what real love and real family were meant to be.

Sakura lowered her head.

Her shoulders trembled. She fought to keep herself composed, but tears had already begun to gather in her eyes.

For a moment, Nathan said nothing. When he spoke again, his tone was quieter, though no less firm.

“Your father may not care about you,” he said, “but you have a brother who does.”

Sakura’s head lifted at once.

Her tear filled eyes widened in shock. She had not expected him to know about Shigeru.

Nathan held her gaze. “So stop wasting your heart on someone who has already chosen ambition over blood.”

Her lips parted, but he did not give her the chance to answer.

“Value the ones who truly matter,” he said. “Forget your father. Stay here, stay quiet, and do not make this harder than it already is.”

With that, he turned away from her.

Behind him, the room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the faint sound of Sakura trying and failing to steady her breathing.