The howling wind raged outside, when suddenly the jingling of camel bells echoed. A caravan entered the cave, with over a dozen camels and dozens of people in tow, nearly blocking the entire entrance.
"Ah, apologies—we just need to take shelter from the sandstorm!" the caravan leader explained to those already inside.
Shigeo and Wumang were squeezed into a corner. They could only sigh helplessly. After all, everyone here was a victim of the storm; it wasn't right to drive them out.
Thus, the whole group huddled together in the cave. The caravan people began cooking, and even offered Shigeo and Wumang two skins of water and some flatbread.
"Thank you!" Shigeo was genuinely grateful. He knew that in the desert, water and food were priceless treasures.
Finally, after a long night, the storm outside subsided. The crowd stepped out of the cave. The sky was an endless blue, encircled by rolling clouds—stunningly beautiful.
Shigeo and Wumang were preparing to leave when the caravan leader blocked their path.
"You two, you can't leave today. The weather will turn again—within half an hour, a massive sandstorm will hit. You must not go!"
"Why say that, big brother? Look, the sky is perfectly clear!" Wumang said, staring up at the blue.
"No, no. Please trust my ten years of traveling these deserts. This is the mouth of a sandstorm. Once it shifts, the full storm will descend. You absolutely cannot leave…"
He signaled his men, who ushered Shigeo and Wumang back into the cave.
Sure enough, less than half an hour later, the winds howled again, darkening the sky with flying sand and stone.
Before long, several people rushed into the cave, cursing as they entered.
"Damn this weather! Good thing there's a cave here. Ugh, why are there so many people? Just our luck…"
The leader scowled, followed by his companions. Spotting the crowd, they shouted:
"Out! Get out! From now on, this place belongs to us. Everyone else—leave!"
They moved to drive people out. The caravan folk, unwilling to provoke trouble yet unwilling to leave, simply sat still. They knew that venturing outside meant certain death.
"Forget it. No need to force them out into the storm."
The words came from the cave entrance.
At that moment, the four thugs instantly quieted, lining up respectfully on either side of the entrance. Bowing deeply, they said in unison:
"Yes, Daimyō, please come in!"
"Daimyō?" Shigeo's brow furrowed.
The others all stood immediately. To them, regardless of which nation he belonged to, no commoner dared remain seated before a Daimyō.
Through the sandstorm's light, a boy of eleven or twelve appeared at the entrance. He flicked off his cloak and strode inside.
He wore a snow-white robe under a black cloak. His hair was short and black, and a pair of sunglasses hid his eyes. His slim frame and floating gait gave him an air of self-importance, as though he fancied himself a worldly sage.
"Seat for the Daimyō!"
One of the four drew a chair from a scroll, covering it with a beast-hide cushion.
The boy sat down elegantly.
In the corner, Shigeo leaned his head on his hand, watching.
The caravan leader hunched forward cautiously and asked the four attendants in a hushed tone:
"Sirs, may I ask—this Daimyō, of which country?"
One attendant raised his chin proudly, replying aloud:
"This, our master, is none other than the Daimyō of the hidden Land of Sky—Hyūga Shigeo! Why don't you hurry and pay your respects?"
At that, Shigeo nearly toppled over, while Wumang's face froze in utter shock. He glanced from the boy to the real Shigeo in disbelief.
A gasp came from the caravan. A woman even screamed, rushing forward to cling to the boy's legs.
"It's Shigeo! It's really Shigeo! Oh heavens, I'm meeting the living Daimyō of the Land of Sky! You're tall, rich, and handsome—my idol!"
She clung to him in blissful ecstasy.
Shigeo could only sweat nervously.
Others, too, were stunned. Someone pulled out a flyer and, comparing the likeness, exclaimed:
"Unbelievable! We desert traders actually encountered the legendary Shigeo. This is too miraculous!"
The caravan quickly made room, pushing themselves into corners to give more space to the so-called Daimyō and his entourage.
Half the cave was now packed with Shigeo, Wumang, the caravan, and camels. The other half was occupied by the impostor and his four attendants, who put on airs—spreading carpets, setting up tables, burning incense, and brewing tea.
"Tsk, tsk."
Wumang shook his head, muttering to Shigeo:
"Daren—no, A-Mo—I suddenly realize our Nanmo no Kuni has been treating you poorly. You've been with us for over a year, and we've never pampered you like this."
Shigeo smirked, replying softly:
"I don't mind if you raise the standard next time. But if you'd take that tormenting demon Naoqianling away from Namo Village, I'd consider everything even."
"That's too much trouble. Forget it." Wumang waved it off.
Across the cave, the show went on.
A couple of women, rare in the caravan, appeared carrying platters of fruit, offering them atop the impostor's carpet.
"Shigeo-oppa, these are the sweetest fruits of the Land of Wind. Please taste them…"
The fake nodded, accepting them.
Soon, the caravan leader himself offered a fine white fox pelt.
"Lord Daimyō, this is the famed white fox fur of the Land of Wind. Please accept it!"
"Good." The boy nodded gravely, then sat in silence, as if profound beyond words.
Wumang clenched his fists, teeth grinding.
"The real Shigeo is squeezed into a corner with reeking camels, while some fraud flaunts his name and cheats people. A-Mo, should I beat him up?"
"Calm down, Wumang. Ever since I let you smack that dog that bit me, you've been itching to fight everyone. What's the rush? Let's just watch." Shigeo leaned on his hand again, observing with interest.
(End of Chapter)
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