Chapter 11
Third person perspective.
After dinner, as usual, Fuyuki arranged the list of students for tomorrow's internal duties and returned to his room.
She had already showered, and the tips of her hair were still a little damp. It was a bit chilly at night, and she was wearing a blue long-sleeved and long-legged pajama set with light blue butterfly patterns.
Dongshu sat on the edge of the bed, which was high enough that she could pull back so that her feet didn't touch the ground.
After thinking for a moment, Fuyuki took out the sword book. He still hadn't added any more companions. Most of the pages of the sword book were still dark. He turned the pages gently, his legs swinging unconsciously. The sound of the pages turning echoed in the room.
"Splash..." She stopped.
The white-clad tsukumogami stood there, making a gesture as if holding a sword in one hand and preparing to draw it in the other, looking ahead with a smile on his face.
It is Tsurumaru Kuninaga.
—
That day.
Fuyuki saw Tsurumaru Kuninaga, whose spiritual power was scattered and whose entire body was about to dissipate. It was an astonishing white and a chilling red. The sight of red and white made her panic.
She rushed over, her small body stumbling slightly. Her spiritual energy permeated the area, turning her clenched fingers red. Her whole being exuded urgency and worry, and she felt a lump in her throat, as if tears were about to fall at any moment.
The enemies that Tsurumaru Kuninaga faced were far more than those Time Travelers who initially seemed weak.
Short swords, katana, tachi, Ōdachi, spears... they appeared one after another.
He faced a mountain of enemies with only one blade, charging into battle alone.
How incredible.
Every time Dongshu sensed a new presence, her heart would tighten, and she would tremble all over. Death was approaching every moment, and she was afraid, terrified.
Tsurumaru Kuninaga's blade, though slender, is sharp enough to kill enemies. He possesses sufficient strength, unpredictable speed, and extreme insight. When exhausted, he can deliver a fatal blow.
It is a powerful crane that flies freely among countless blades, but is restricted by the spiritual power necessary to maintain its human form.
Fuyuki used the wisp of spiritual energy used for investigation that was wrapped around Tsurumaru Kuninaga as a medium to continuously transfer his own spiritual energy. However, this autonomous transfer of spiritual energy could not ultimately compare to the power of a contract.
Although she had no shortage of spiritual energy, her clumsy teleportation couldn't keep up with the speed.
The supply of spiritual energy was insufficient, which made Tsurumaru Kuninaga feel powerless in the later stages. However, he was not just a brute who only knew how to use force. He used his brain and was able to deal with the small number of powerful enemies later on.
"This is a real headache... This crimson outfit... it doesn't look like a crane at all anymore..."
Looking at the blade in front of him, who was complaining about his clothes, Fuyuki couldn't help but chuckle, and Tsurumaru Kuninaga's body solidified again.
"Tsurumaru, you really are..."
For a moment, they were speechless. The man and his blade stared at each other, and then they laughed in unison, dispelling the somber atmosphere.
—
Dongshu continued to turn over, and the overall dark gray curtain made her sigh. Dongshu closed the curtain with both hands and collapsed onto the bed.
She stared blankly at the ceiling, then raised her hand to shield her eyes from the overhead light, but the light still shone through the edge of her hand.
The silence of the night and the tranquility in her heart intertwined, and the month since she became a Saniwa flew by in her mind, causing inexplicable emotions to ferment at this moment.
Before me is a small hand.
Her hands were delicate and slender, fair and clean, without a single scar, clearly the hands of someone who had been carefully cared for.
It's a child's hand.
This is also her hand.
The arm fell, covering the eyes, and Dongshu became completely still.
But she is not a child.
Night had fallen, and Dongshu crawled into bed. Sleepiness washed over her, her jumbled thoughts dissipated, and her consciousness grew hazy as she gradually sank into darkness.
—
The next day, after breakfast, Fuyuki received a notification.
It comes from current affairs.
[Saniwa:]
1. Upon delivery of the message, Fuyuki, the Saniwa of Honmaru No. 197, and his Touken Danshi were transferred from the Main Branch to the Derivative Branch.
Second, please ensure that the Saniwa (master) makes reasonable preparations for strategic resources.
Third, regarding the partial division, please read the relevant notices for details, and be sure not to blindly send out troops.
Please visit the center building for any questions.
Have a pleasant day at work. —Current Affairs
Just as I was preparing to arrange today's internal affairs, the sound from the terminal interrupted me.
"Ding—ding—ding—"
It was a special ringtone used when the government sent a personal notification to the Saniwa. All the Blades watched quietly as the Saniwa, sitting at the head of the table, checked the message.
After reading the personal notification, Fuyuki went to inquire about the branch matters.
The distinction between the original branch and the derivative distribution is a new one. Previously, the Saniwa did not have a clear division and were simply engaged in daily battles or completed tasks assigned by the government.
The Origin Branch refers to the branch responsible for maintaining the history of this world. It is the same as before, just with the addition of the title of branch. There is nothing unfamiliar about it.
As for derivative divisions, the political and social contexts of other worlds besides this one are called derivative worlds.
The current regime is establishing connections with multiple derivative worlds, accepting their commissions to help stabilize them and prevent this world from being affected.
As for the commissions, including but not limited to the confrontation with the Time Retrograde Army, the specifics will only be known after the mission is received. When faced with a mission that is difficult to complete, the Saniwa has the right to refuse, but must provide reasons when refusing.
This is also to prevent the Saniwa from deliberately skipping work under the guise of this.
After understanding the situation, Fuyuki copied the two notices onto the notepad in the terminal, put them together, and then handed the terminal to today's attendant, indicating that he should read them aloud to everyone.
"...I understand." Soza Samonji took it. He exuded a melancholy aura, his pink hair was loose, his heterochromatic eyes were half-closed, and his voice carried a unique sigh.
As he read, Fuyuki sat in her seat, her thoughts somewhat scattered. The gentle voice of Sozo Samonji entered her ears, possessing a unique rhythm. The official political announcements were long, and the fragmented sound poured in, making her feel somewhat drowsy.
Time seemed to stretch out indefinitely, things in front of him became blurry, his eyelids grew heavy, and Fuyuki reflexively struggled to open his eyelids, but could not control them.
Her head bobbed up and down. The late night yesterday had sown the seeds for this moment, and in this situation, the trigger was fully brought out, luring the young Saniwa into sleep.
I'm so sleepy...
The Saniwa suddenly collapsed to the side, and Soza Samonji, who was always watching her, caught her with lightning speed. The Saniwa pinched his loose hair and buried her face in his chest. Feeling his shallow and steady breathing, her heart, which had been racing with tension, slowly returned to its original pace.
Soza Samonji sighed, then looked up and glanced at the worried-looking tsukumogami around him, deliberately lowering his voice: "Master is alright."
He carefully picked up Dongshu and held her in his arms as he stood up, saying, "I'll take the master back to her room first, and we'll talk about this later."
After saying that, he turned and left, his melancholy figure enveloping his little master.
Sozo walked steadily, watching the Saniwa's hand gripping her hair tightly, as if she had held on to it in her sleep and wouldn't let go.
The spirit sighed silently.
Master, are you so devoted to him...?
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