Iron bars rattled as the prisoner carriage lurched to a halt, the sound echoing far louder in Yoji Itami's head than it should have. He sat bound at the wrists, rope biting into his skin, his mind racing through contingencies that felt useless without his gear, without backup, without a clear enemy. Across from him, Lelei La Lalena sat unnaturally still, violet eyes sharp despite the faint shimmer of a suppression collar etched with runes around her neck. Magic dampened, theory useless without practice—yet her gaze followed every sound, every footstep outside the carriage. Tuka Luna Marceau knelt beside them, ears flattened, hands clenched so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Fear clung to her like a second skin, but beneath it burned anger, hot and trembling.
Outside, rough voices barked orders as the carriage doors were flung open. Torchlight spilled in, revealing armored figures bearing a sigil none of them recognized: a broken chain wrapped around a curved blade. One man stepped forward, tall and broad, his armor mismatched but well-maintained, eyes sharp with experience rather than cruelty. "Welcome to the end of the road." He said calmly. "You're guests of the Shogun's Hand now. Behave, and you live."
Yoji forced a dry chuckle. "You know, every bad day I've ever had started with someone saying something like that."
The man ignored him. "Move them. Separate cages. The elf's worth more awake."
Tuka flinched as hands grabbed her arms, dragging her away despite her struggles. Yoji strained against his bonds, shouting her name, but a hard blow to his ribs stole the air from his lungs. Lelei was the last removed, her eyes locking briefly with Yoji's—calm, resolute, promising survival even as the cage doors slammed shut behind them.
They were led into the heart of the camp: a fortified clearing carved into the forest, watchtowers rising like skeletal fingers, iron cages stacked beneath canvas awnings, and mercenaries moving with disciplined efficiency. This wasn't a band of desperate raiders. This was an operation.
And somewhere beyond the trees, dawn crept higher.
Hours—or perhaps only minutes—later, Yoji sat alone in a narrow cage, testing the give of the bars, the knots, the ground beneath him. Nothing. Whoever these people were, they knew how to handle prisoners. Across the camp, Tuka huddled in her own enclosure, eyes darting at every shadow, while Lelei was dragged toward a tent bristling with arcane devices, her protests muffled by the hum of suppressive magic.
The leader returned near midday, flanked by two lieutenants. "Names." He demanded flatly.
"Yoji Itami." Yoji answered. "And you're making a mistake."
The man smiled faintly. "Everyone says that. I am Katsuro Shin—called The Shogun by those who value their lives. We trade in rare assets. Elves. Mages. Outsiders. You three will fetch a high price across borders that don't ask questions."
"And if we refuse?" Tuka asked shakily.
Shin regarded her coolly. "Refusal implies choice."
He turned away, leaving the sound of chains and fear in his wake.
~~~
Far from the camp, four figures moved with purpose.
Scarlet knelt low, fingers pressed into the earth, crimson eyes glowing faintly as scent and instinct guided her. "They passed through here." She spoke softly.
Yang cracked her knuckles, golden eyes burning. "Good. I hate surprises, and I'm itching for a fight."
Above them, Rimuru glided silently, wings catching the sunlight as their senses spread outward—magic, life force, the faint hum of wards laid carelessly but frequently. "There's discipline." Rimuru muttered. "Mercenary-level coordination. Not the Empire."
Rory followed behind, halberd resting on her shoulder, expression grim. "Slavers..." She whispered quietly. "The Shogun's Hand, if I'm not mistaken. They operate in the cracks between nations. I should have said something sooner."
Scarlet didn't look back, but her voice took a small angry tone. "You're telling us this now? You're a useless Goddess..."
They pressed on, tension thickening with every mile. Tracks appeared where the syndicate had grown careless: wagon ruts, boot prints, discarded rope fibers. Smoke soon followed, faint but unmistakable.
Rimuru descended beside them. "The camp is ahead..they got defenses around the perimeter."
Yang grinned, she chuckled under her breath. "Good, we're right on time then...."
As night fell over the slaver camp, Yoji listened to the distant sounds of laughter and clinking bottles. Guards rotated with clockwork precision, but even discipline bred complacency. He shifted closer to the bars, lowering his voice. "Lelei. Tuka. You still alive?"
A faint reply came from the darkness. "Yes." Lelei whispered. "I have been… studying. Looking for any gap they may have left unchecked..."
Yoji smiled, despite the pain. "That's my girl."
Tuka stiffened up a bit as she tried to get comfy, but couldn't. "I don't want to admit it....but I'm scared..."
Yoji nodded lightly at what she said. "We all are, don't worry...someone will come for us."
He didn't know it yet, but beyond the crackling firelight. Something monstrous moved in the darkness, drawing closer to the camp.
~~~
Scarlet watched from the treeline, a small smirk played at her lips. She could smell fear, fear from the three in the cages and whoever else was being held prisoner. "I can smell their fear." She purred quietly.
Rimuru's aura pulsed, controlled but immense. "We extract the prisoners first. Then we dismantle the operation."
Yang rolled her shoulders. "I call dibs on the cages." She shot Scarlet a quick glance. "Don't think about taking what I already called dibs on."
Scarlet rolled her eyes as she shook her head. "I'll take the guards....I'm feeling a bit...hungry."
Rory tightened her grip on her halberd. "May Emroy bless what remains.."
They moved as one—shadow, flame, steel, and divinity—closing in on the Shogun's Hand.
And in the center of the camp, Katsuro Shin felt it: a pressure in the air, a warning too late to heed. But he had a plan. A plan to lure out whatever was lurking in the darkness beyond the camp.