I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Nathan left Death God Valley in the middle of the night with Yukihime and Genzo.

There had been no reason to linger. Shigeru and his group had already been paid, and after everything that had happened, there was little left to say. The job was done. Mitsuhide was dead. The valley had been freed, at least for now, and each of them had their own road to follow.

As for Shiina, Nathan had chosen to leave while she was still asleep.

It was better that way.

After sleeping with her, staying any longer would only have made things more complicated. Whatever had passed between them in that ruined shrine had not erased the truth. Their truce was over. The brief understanding they had shared had ended the moment their paths began to divide again. Once more, they stood on opposite sides.

Shiina had made herself clear. If he went after Norihiro, she would stop him.

Nathan had no intention of making promises he did not mean to keep. He could not swear to spare Norihiro, not when the man had proven himself too dangerous to ignore. Mitsuhide’s final words had only made that clearer. Learning that Norihiro possessed a shrine of his own had cast a deeper shadow over everything. It meant Mitsuhide had not been the end of this rot. At best, he had only been one part of it.

If there was a chance to kill Norihiro, Nathan would take it.

But he also knew it was not that simple.

A direct assassination would send consequences far beyond one man’s death. Norihiro was not merely a target hidden in some forgotten corner. He was the South’s Daimyo, loved by many, protected by power, and woven deeply into the region’s pride. If word spread that Kaguya had sent someone from the North to murder him, the damage would be immense. Whatever hope remained of uniting Kastoria would likely die with him. The South would not see justice. It would see betrayal. And hatred between North and South would only deepen.

So no matter what he wanted personally, Nathan understood they would need another way.

The journey back to Minami Kyoto took the entire next day. By the time the city finally came into view again, night had already fallen.

The road had worn on all three of them. Genzo was quieter than usual, the weight of everything settling over him now that the battle was behind them. Yukihime said almost nothing during the ride, but Nathan could feel her presence close by, calm and steady as ever. Even in silence, she carried a strange stillness with her, one that kept the darkness of the road from swallowing the night whole.

Nathan himself felt drained.

His body had endured too much in too little time. The poison still lingered in his system, dulled but not gone. Every ache from the battle in Death God Valley had settled deeper during the long ride back. Yet his mind refused rest. It stayed fixed on Norihiro, on Shiina, on Mitsuhide’s warning, and on the uneasy certainty that the next move would be the most dangerous one yet.

When they reached Minami Kyoto, Nathan finally reined in his horse and turned to the others.

”Stay outside the city,” he said.

Genzo looked at him at once. ”You are going in alone?”

”Yes.”

Nathan’s gaze shifted briefly to Yukihime. ”It is better this way. If something is wrong, too many people moving with me will only draw attention.”

Neither of them argued. Genzo looked unhappy about it, but he understood. Yukihime only met Nathan’s eyes in silence, then gave the faintest nod.

Nathan left them there and entered Minami Kyoto alone.

The city at night wore a different face. Even where lantern light warmed the streets, there was something guarded in the air, as if the city had learned to hide its true thoughts behind quiet walls and shuttered windows. Nathan moved quickly through the familiar paths, keeping to the darker edges where he could. He wasted no time. The inn where he had been staying was not far, and once he reached it, he went straight inside and headed toward the room he had left Hanzo in.

When he arrived at the door, he knocked twice.

”It is me, Hanzo.”

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then he heard movement inside. A pause followed, tense and uncertain, before the door finally opened.

Hanzo stood there.

The moment she saw him, relief flashed across her face, but it vanished just as quickly. Her eyes moved past him at once, searching the hallway behind him, then the darkness beyond. She looked for the one person she had expected to see with him.

Her uncle was not there.

Nathan saw the fear rise in her before she even spoke. It came suddenly and all at once, tightening her face, dimming her eyes.

Did that mean he had failed?

Did that mean Nathan had returned too late?

Had Mitsuhide killed him before anything could be done?

Nathan stepped inside without another word and shut the door behind him.

”He is fine,” he said. ”Do not worry.”

Hanzo stared at him. ”R...really?”

The stutter slipped out before she could stop it. Her voice was small with tension, as if she feared believing him too quickly.

Nathan nodded, his expression serious. ”He is alive.”

The relief that crossed her face this time was real, though it did not erase the unease completely. She looked as if her body wanted to relax, but her mind had not yet allowed it.

Nathan turned his attention toward the room. ”Where are they?”

Hanzo followed his gaze. ”Sleeping on the bed.”

Nathan glanced over and saw the two hostages resting, still unaware of how much had changed beyond those walls.

”Good,” he said. ”Then we leave immediately.”

Hanzo frowned. ”Immediately?”

”Yes.”

She studied his face more carefully now, perhaps noticing the exhaustion there, the strain in his voice, the dirt and blood that still clung faintly to him even after the long ride.

Then his words caught up with her.

”Mitsuhide is dead,” Nathan said.

Her eyes widened. ”You really killed him?”

Nathan gave a short nod. ”I did.”

For a moment, she only stared at him.

Shock, disbelief, and something close to awe passed through her expression in silence. Mitsuhide had not been the kind of man people imagined falling easily. Men like him seemed too deeply rooted in power, too wrapped in fear and loyalty and blood, to be removed from the world by ordinary hands.

But Nathan was not ordinary, and now Mitsuhide was dead.

Nathan exhaled slowly, then continued, ”I ended up doing Norihiro an unwilling service by killing him. No matter how things stand between them, Mitsuhide’s death helps him. And while I was gone, he has had time to prepare.”

Hanzo’s expression darkened.

”Staying here any longer is dangerous,” Nathan said. ”He knows by now that enemies are moving in his territory. He will be watching for the next step.”

Hanzo crossed her arms tightly over herself. ”So what are you saying? That we cannot kill him?”

Nathan was quiet for a moment.

”I am saying I do not know,” he replied at last. ”If it were only a matter of slipping into his residence and cutting his throat, then yes, we could try. But it smells too much like a trap. He has some kind of guarantee. Even when I stood near him before, he did not seem truly uneasy.”

He frowned slightly as he said it, thinking back to every detail he could recall.

That calm had bothered him even then.

A man in Norihiro’s position should have shown more caution. More tension. Some sign that he understood danger when it stood close enough to kill him. But he had not. He had been too composed, too certain of himself.

Nathan could not tell whether that confidence had come from Shiina standing at his side or from something else entirely.

Either way, he did not trust it.

And that was exactly why they had to move now.

Before Norihiro made his own move first.

Hanzo did not argue. She only turned her eyes toward Sakura and Akiko, both still asleep and unaware of the danger closing in around them.

”Are we taking them too?” she asked quietly.

Nathan gave a short nod. ”For now, yes.”

For a brief moment, he considered leaving them behind and cutting away unnecessary weight before things grew even more dangerous. In the end, he dismissed the thought. Releasing them now would solve nothing. Sakura was far better off at their side than anywhere near Norihiro’s reach, and even if Nathan had no clear use for her yet, that did not mean she would not matter later. At the very least, keeping her close denied Norihiro one more piece on the board.

Decision made, they moved at once.

Nathan crossed the room, bent down, and lifted the two sleeping girls with practiced care, one in each arm. Neither fully woke, though one stirred faintly against his chest before settling again. Hanzo opened the window, and within moments they were gone, slipping out into the night before the inn could notice their departure.

They did not leave through the streets.

Nathan took to the air, rising swiftly into the darkness with the girls in his arms and Hanzo close beside him. Below them, Minami Kyoto stretched beneath the night like a sleeping beast, its lantern lit roads and shadowed rooftops fading behind them little by little. The city looked almost peaceful from above, but Nathan knew better. Somewhere within those walls, Norihiro was watching, preparing, waiting for the next move.

They landed outside the capital where Genzo and Yukihime were waiting with the horses.

The instant Hanzo’s feet touched the ground, her eyes found Genzo.

”Uncle!”

Whatever cold restraint she usually carried vanished at once. Relief broke across her face so openly that for a second she looked much younger, no longer the composed shinobi who hid everything behind control. She rushed toward him and threw her arms around him tightly.

Genzo let out a warm, tired chuckle and embraced her in return.

”What did I tell you about the shinobi way?” he said. ”There was no need to come for me.”

Hanzo drew back only enough to look at him, though she did not fully let go. ”I did not come for you. He did.”

Her glance shifted toward Nathan.

Genzo followed it, then laughed again, softer this time. ”That is true,” he admitted. ”I cannot argue with that.”

Nathan had already lowered Sakura carefully onto his horse, placing her in front of the saddle where he could keep her steady during the ride. Then he turned and handed Akiko over to Hanzo.

”Keep an eye on her,” he said.

Hanzo nodded and took the girl into her arms before moving toward her own horse.

A moment later, Nathan mounted, settling himself behind Sakura so she would not slip. Yukihime then joined him, climbing up with quiet grace and taking her place behind him. Her presence was as calm as ever, but when she settled close, Nathan could feel the lingering exhaustion in his own body even more clearly. The long ride, the battle, the poison, the strain of constant caution, all of it had begun to weigh on him like iron.

Still, there was no time to rest.

”Let us return to the shinobi village,” Nathan said.

He looked toward Genzo as the older man climbed onto his horse.

”You need proper rest,” Nathan continued. ”And we need to decide how to bring Norihiro down the right way.”

Genzo adjusted his grip on the reins and narrowed his eyes slightly. ”Do you already have something in mind?”

Nathan nodded.

He did.

It was not a perfect plan, and it was far from simple. In truth, it depended on too many things falling into place, and more than one wrong step could destroy it before it even began. But if he managed to carry it through, then Norihiro could be removed without turning the entire South against them.

Not only that.

If everything went exactly as it should, Nathan might do more than eliminate an enemy. He might have the South’s side with him.

The thought alone was enough to keep him focused.

Without another word, they started forward into the night, horses cutting across the dark road as the capital disappeared behind them. Ahead lay the shinobi village, a brief chance to recover, and beyond that the far more dangerous task of bringing down a man who ruled not only through power, but through loyalty.

And Nathan knew that killing such a man was never the hardest part.

The hardest part was making sure the South accepted his fall.