The journey to Silverwood was a lesson in perception. For Sakura, the world was a collection of data points: distances to be traveled, threats to be neutralized, and objectives to be achieved. The mission was to escort the "principal," Himari, to the target city, and she approached it with the detached efficiency of a machine. She walked with a silent, economical gait, her eyes constantly scanning, her hand never far from the concealed plasma pistol at her side.
For Himari, the world was a tapestry of life and memory. She saw not just a forest, but the hunting grounds of her youth. She recognized the calls of different birds, knew which roots were safe to eat, and could read the stories left in the tracks of animals. She tried, repeatedly, to bridge the gap between their two worlds.
"That is a silverleaf tree," she said on the first day, pointing to a tall, shimmering tree. "My father used to say that when the goddess first smiled upon Ares, her laughter turned to silver and became the leaves."
"Affirmative," Sakura replied without looking, her internal sensors analyzing the tree's composition. "High concentration of metallic elements in the foliage. Reflectivity index is 1.7. Noted."
Himari sighed. It was like talking to a stone.
Their first real test came three days into the journey. They were following an old, overgrown royal road when they came across a makeshift roadblock of felled trees. A group of a half-dozen men, armed with rusty swords and cruel-looking axes, stepped out from the woods. They were not soldiers; their eyes held the desperate, feral gleam of bandits.
Sakura's immediate response was purely tactical. **
Before she could act, Himari held up a hand, a silent command to wait. She stepped forward, her posture calm and unafraid.
"We are simple travelers," Himari said, her voice clear and steady. "We have little food and no coin. Please, let us pass in peace."
The leader, a burly man with a scarred face, sneered. "No coin, eh? We'll be the judge of that. That cloak looks warm. And the lady looks… valuable."
The men began to circle them, their intent clear. Sakura's hand tightened on her pistol. This was it.
Just as the first bandit lunged, Himari moved. She didn't draw a weapon. She simply dropped to one knee, placed her hand on the ground, and whispered a single word. The ground beneath the bandit's feet erupted, a localized tremor that threw him off balance. In that split second of surprise, Sakura flowed into motion.
She was a ghost. She didn't draw her pistol. Instead, she used the Imperial CQC Akane was teaching the guards. One moment she was beside Himari, the next she was a blur of black cloth and precise, brutal strikes. An elbow to a throat. A palm heel to a nose. A sweep of a leg that took a man's knees out from under him. She moved through them with a terrifying grace, each movement designed to incapacitate without killing. In less than ten seconds, all six bandits were on the ground, groaning, disarmed, and utterly broken.
Sakura stood amidst the carnage, breathing evenly, not even a flush on her cheeks. She looked back at Himari, who was still kneeling, her expression serene.
"Your technique is… unconventional," Sakura stated, her analytical mind processing the tremor. It wasn't in any Imperial database.
"It is the way of my people," Himari replied simply, rising to her feet. "The earth listens to the blood of the Celestine line. It is a small magic, but useful." She then walked over to the groaning leader, not with malice, but with a look of profound sadness. "You were once farmers, weren't you? From the Sunstone valley."
The man stared up at her in shock. "How… how did you know?"
"I can see the sun in your skin, and smell the soil in your clothes," she said softly. "My uncle's war has been hard on you all." She reached into her pack, pulled out two of the dense ration bars Haruto had made, and placed them on the ground. "This is all we can spare. Go east. Avoid the roads. You will find your way again."
With that, she turned and walked away. Sakura, after a moment of hesitation, followed. She didn't understand. Compassion was not a mission parameter. But as she watched Himari, she realized the princess's actions had achieved something her own tactical strike could not have. She hadn't just defeated enemies; she had disarmed them, understood them, and perhaps even planted a seed of hope.
Two days later, they stood on a hill overlooking a sprawling city nestled in a river valley, its silver-roofed towers gleaming in the sun.
"Silverwood," Himari whispered, her voice a mixture of love and sorrow.
Sakura stood beside her, activating her optical sensors, zooming in on the city walls. They were patrolled by soldiers in the black and grey of the usurper duke. The city was beautiful, but it was an occupied territory. Their mission was about to begin.