Chapter 5: A Battle Between Men!

The four of them walked back toward town, leaving the tattered training field behind.

As they approached the gates, their eyes briefly met the guards. The same guards who, not long ago, had been ready to kill them.

No words were exchanged, but the tension hadn’t disappeared.They walked past.The town felt different at night. Quieter. Cooler.

Lantern light flickered softly along the road, casting long shadows across the dirt paths. A few villagers made their way home, their clothes worn and stained with dirt from a long day in the fields. Some glanced at them, then quickly looked away.

There were even children among them, carrying bundles too heavy for their size. Jaylia’s expression tightened slightly, but she didn’t say anything.

They reached the ryokan, a small traditional inn with wooden sliding doors and a faint glow spilling from inside.

As they stepped up to the entrance, the door slid open. A small woman stood there. She paused for just a moment when she saw them, then bowed.

“Welcome. Thank you for coming.”

Her eyes lingered just a second longer than necessary.

“Please remove your shoes. You all look quite tired.”

Rowlo and the others exchanged a glance before quietly slipping off their sandals.

Dreko stepped forward and returned the bow.

“We’re travelers from overseas. We’d like a room for four, if possible.”

The woman nodded.

“That will be 3000 mon.”

A brief pause. Rowlo, Jaylia, and Peter all looked at each other. Peter leaned slightly toward Dreko.

“…Is that a lot?”

Dreko’s expression immediately soured.

“3000 copper coins? That’s absurd.”

The innkeeper’s polite smile didn’t fade, but it tightened slightly.

“Well,” she said carefully, “you caused quite a disturbance earlier.”

“...Our friend spoke on your behalf. That is the only reason I am allowing you to stay.”

Her tone remained calm, but there was something firm underneath it.

“If anything… unusual happens again…”

She bowed slightly.

“I will have to ask you to leave.”

Silence hung between them.

“…Tch. Fine,” Dreko muttered.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a small pouch of mon, the coins clinking together softly as he handed them over.

The woman accepted it with both hands.

“Thank you very much,” she said with a bow.

As they walked toward their room, the faint scent of wood lingered in the air.

The floors were covered in straw mats, each step producing a soft, muted sound beneath their feet. The walls were framed with wood and lined with sliding paper doors that shifted quietly as other guests passed by, carrying lanterns of their own.

Eventually, they reached their room.

The innkeeper stopped in front of the door, lantern in hand, and gently slid it open.

Warm light spilled inside. The space was simple. A low table sat at the center of the room, surrounded by floor cushions. Nothing more.

“Here you are,” the innkeeper said with a slight bow. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

She stepped away, her lantern light growing dimmer as she disappeared down the hall.

The room remained softly lit by a few hanging lanterns.

The walls were thin. They could hear it. Quiet murmurs. Low conversations. The subtle life of the inn continuing all around them.

“Well… at least it’s cozy,” Peter said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Dreko glanced around.

“…Not exactly the 21st century,” he said. “But it’ll do.”

“I call the futon.”

Peter rushed forward and collapsed onto it. Within seconds, he was out. Snoring.

Jaylia blinked.

“…It’s crazy he can sleep after everything.”

Rowlo looked around the room, then let out a small yawn.

“Yeah… I’m gonna get some air.”

“I’ll see you all in the morning,” Dreko said, already turning toward his own section of the room. “Get some rest.”

He slid the door shut behind him.

Rowlo stepped outside.

A small wooden porch extended from the room, overlooking a quiet patch of land. Nearby, a still lake reflected the night sky, its surface barely disturbed.

Rowlo leaned slightly on the railing, and looked up. The sky was clear. Completely clear. Stars stretched endlessly above him, the Milky Way visible in full, something he hadn’t seen in years back in Solara Ridge.

For a moment, he just stood there.

“…Wow,” he murmured under his breath.

The door slid open behind him.

Jaylia stepped out and walked beside him, resting her arms on the railing.

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. “You can actually see everything.”

Rowlo nodded slightly.

“Yeah… I used to see this all the time with my dad. Back when we’d go out to the countryside.”

“…It’s kinda nice.”

Jaylia smiled faintly.

“…Except now we’re stuck 400 years in the past.”

She let out a quiet laugh, but it didn’t last long.

“…Do you think we’ll ever get home?”

Rowlo didn’t answer right away. He looked up again. Then down at the water.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m still trying to figure out if this is even real.”

He let out a quiet breath.

“…And Pete’s just asleep like nothing happened.”

Jaylia shook her head slightly.

“…Yeah.”

A small pause settled between them.

“…There’s not much we can do right now,” she added.

“…Yeah.”

Another pause.

“Well,” she said, pushing off the railing, “I’m gonna try to get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow we’ll figure something out.”

Rowlo nodded.

“Mmm… yeah.”

Jaylia stretched slightly before heading back inside, the door sliding shut behind her.

Rowlo stayed there a little longer. Just standing. Taking it in. The stillness. The stars. The quiet of a world far removed from everything he knew.

Then finally…

He turned and went back inside.

The next morning came early. They woke feeling… different. Refreshed.

Rowlo stretched slightly as they got dressed, the events of yesterday still lingering in the back of his mind.

“Let’s go,” Dreko said.

They stepped out and made their way through the inn. As they walked, voices followed them. Low. Whispered.

“…that’s them…”

“…the ones from yesterday…”

“…they’re fighting a samurai…”

Peter’s shoulders tensed slightly. He didn’t say anything. They entered the shared dining space. Several people were already seated at low tables, quietly eating.

But as soon as the four of them stepped in…

the room shifted. Eyes turned. Conversations didn’t stop, but they changed.

“Seems like you’re the talk of the town, Pete,” Rowlo said as they sat down.

“Probably the craziest thing this place has seen in a while,” Dreko added casually.

“Talk about keeping a low profile…” Jaylia muttered under her breath.

Peter forced a laugh.

“…Yeah… whatever.”

He sat down awkwardly, shifting his legs under the table.

“…Where’s the food… man, how do people even eat like this…”

The innkeeper approached, calm as ever. She set down their breakfast. Rice. Miso soup. Green tea. Chopsticks placed neatly beside each tray.

“Please enjoy your meal,” she said with a bow.

Rowlo picked up the chopsticks, turning them slightly in his hand.

“Well… no better time to learn, I guess.”

Jaylia nodded, copying him.

Peter stared at his.

“…You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He tried. And failed. The sticks slipped.

He adjusted again.

Still nothing.

“…These things are so stupid. Damn it!”

A few people nearby paused mid-bite. Watching. Whispers spread quietly across the room.

“…those are the demons…”

“…they don’t even know how to eat…”

“…and they’re fighting a samurai…”

Peter groaned and dropped the chopsticks entirely.

“Forget this.”

He grabbed the rice with his hands.

That did it. The room reacted immediately. Subtle, but clear. Disgust. Shock. A few people turned away. Others stared harder.

Jaylia froze for a second.

“…Pete…”

“Hey, I’m eating, aren’t I?” he muttered, clearly frustrated.

Rowlo managed to get the hang of it after a few tries.

Jaylia followed not long after.

Dreko, on the other hand, ate without hesitation. Like he’d done it his whole life.

Peter finished first. Mostly out of spite. He wiped his hands awkwardly and leaned back.

“…Whatever.”

Dreko set his chopsticks down.

“We should get moving,” he said, standing.

He glanced toward the light outside.

“…It’s almost noon.”

As they approached Takeda Dojo, a crowd had already gathered.

When they arrived, the atmosphere shifted. Some looked excited. Others looked terrified.

Inside, the dojo had been cleared out into a wide, open space. The scent of wood filled the air. Training dummies and wooden practice swords rested along the edges of the room.

Musashi was already there.

Sitting calmly in the center and drinking from a gourd.

The sensei of the dojo stepped forward and bowed slightly.

“Hello. I am Sensei Takeda Yamamoto. It is a pleasure to meet you. I will be overseeing this duel.”

The crowd moved to the edges, forming a circle around the open floor.

“This match…” the sensei continued, “will be a match to the death.”

Peter’s eyes widened.

Rowlo and Jaylia froze.

The crowd erupted.

“Kill the demons!”

“Execute them!”

“Wow… okay… this is—wow,” Rowlo muttered under the noise.

Dreko frowned slightly and stepped back toward the crowd. Rowlo and Jaylia followed. Jaylia glanced at Peter.

“…Don’t die, Pete.”

“I’ll… try,” Peter said, swallowing hard.

Musashi stood calm and confident. He tossed the gourd aside and began walking forward.

Then he laughed.

“Ah… little grasshopper. Let’s give them a show.”

The sensei stepped between them and bowed. He gestured. Both fighters bowed.

A brief pause filled the room.

Then

“Begin!”

Musashi moved instantly. Both blades drawn in a single motion.

Too fast.

Peter couldn't even react.

A slash.

Then another.

“Ahh—damn!” Peter coughed out as blood sprayed across the floor.

Musashi didn’t stop.

His blades flowed like water, each strike clean, precise, brutal. Peter stumbled back. Cut after cut tore into him. Until he fell.

The crowd roared. Musashi lowered one blade, pointing it toward him.

“Is that all?”

Peter’s body twitched.

Then

His wounds began to close. The crowd gasped.

“Demon…”

“It’s a demon!”

Peter slowly pushed himself up, breathing heavily.

“…Okay,” he muttered. “That was something.”

The ground cracked beneath his feet.

Then

He vanished.

A blur shot across the dojo as Peter lunged forward at blinding speed, aiming a strike at Musashi.

Musashi shifted slightly. He dodged the strike with ease.

Peter came again. This time faster stronger, again and again. Even so every strike missed.

“Fast,” Musashi said calmly, deflecting another attack. “Strong.”

He stepped in and countered landing a clean strike across Peter's side.

“But without skill…”

Another strike.

“You are nothing.”

Peter staggered back, breathing hard. Sweat poured down his face. Musashi pressed forward, controlling the pace completely. Each movement precise. Each attack measured. Peter’s body struggled to keep up. In the crowd, Jaylia turned away slightly.

“…How much longer can this go on… it’s making me sick.”

“Yeah… this is insane,” Rowlo said.

Dreko’s eyes stayed locked on the fight.

“The more he regenerates… the more it drains him,” he said. “If he doesn’t figure something out soon…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Peter stood in the center of the arena. Dripping sweat. Clothes torn. Breathing ragged.

“I’m… not done yet.”

His eyes focused. The training. The failures. The control.

“Skill… right.”

He moved again this time faster than before. He began circling the arena faster and faster. Until suddenly...

It looked like there were multiple of him. Afterimages flickering across the dojo. Musashi narrowed his eyes, striking through them.

One after another.