บท 186: A glimpse of Arthur's abilities
(3rd Person POV)
The bamboo fountain clicked rhythmically against stone as another half hour passed. Autumn leaves drifted across the dueling ground where Arthur and Takeshi continued their dance.
The observers believed Takeshi was merely prolonging the fight for sport. They couldn't see his growing frustration as Arthur blocked each increasingly powerful strike while maintaining his facade of struggle.
"Stop playing around, Takeshi!" Haruto's voice carried across the garden. "End this!"
Takeshi's teeth clenched as he launched another barrage, each blocked by Arthur's seemingly clumsy yet effective defense.
Yasushi leaned forward, his expression shifting from boredom to interest.
Then Arthur moved. After thirty minutes of pure defense, his stance shifted to attack. Takeshi raised his guard, confident - until Arthur's wooden blade slipped past his defense like water through stones, striking a vital point with precision.
As Takeshi grunted from the impact, Arthur followed with another strike. The wooden katana flew from Takeshi's grip, and the mighty samurai found himself sitting in the garden dirt, stunned disbelief on his face.
The wooden blade rested against Takeshi's throat. He looked up to find Arthur smiling down at him, relaxed as if they'd just finished a casual game.
"Well, that was entertaining, wasn't it? For both you and our audience. And look - I even managed to win." Arthur's casual tone carried none of his earlier strain.
Takeshi stared, his mind struggling to process his defeat.
Around the garden, everyone had risen to their feet, faces frozen in shock.
"This... this isn't possible..." Kaede's whisper barely carried on the breeze.
"Could Takeshi have thrown the match?" Haruto suggested weakly, but even as he said it, he knew better. Takeshi would sooner die than dishonor himself with a false defeat.
Yasushi and Satsuki exchanged stunned glances. Even the ninja had fallen silent, their earlier playfulness replaced by awe. None had imagined witnessing the third prince's strongest samurai fall to an entertainer.
"You..." Takeshi stared up at Arthur, recognition dawning in his eyes as he recalled Arthur's seemingly desperate blocks transforming into this casual mastery. Understanding hit him - he'd been the one being played all along.
A wry smile crossed his face. "I severely underestimated you."
Arthur remained silent as Takeshi continued, "You feigned weakness, defended cautiously to lower my guard, then struck at the perfect moment. Brilliant strategy."
Arthur's face showed confusion - he'd merely pretended weakness out of habit, and struck simply because the fight had grown tedious. But Takeshi's interpretation saved him the trouble of explanation, so he let it stand.
Arthur extended his hand to Takeshi, who ignored it and rose on his own. Then, unexpectedly, Takeshi bowed deeply, his earlier contempt replaced with genuine respect.
"Please forgive my previous disrespect," Takeshi's voice carried new humility. "Your victory has earned my regard. I hope you'll overlook my earlier insults."
"Don't worry about it," Arthur smiled easily. "I understand why samurai would question my honor."
Kaede and Haruto stood frozen, still processing this turn of events.
Before anyone could stop him, Haruto stepped forward. "I challenge you-"
"Silence!" Takeshi's bark cut him off. "You call yourself a samurai? Trying to fight him while he's weary from our duel?"
Haruto's mouth snapped shut. Beside him, Kaede swallowed her own challenge, shame coloring her cheeks.
Yet Arthur accepted Haruto's challenge anyway. Ten minutes later, Haruto joined Takeshi in defeat. Yasushi and Satsuki exchanged knowing looks - they'd caught Arthur's deliberate show of struggle.
The message was clear to everyone: Arthur was far stronger than he let on. He'd revealed just enough of his power to earn respect while clearly holding back, ensuring the third prince wouldn't underestimate him again. Arthur knew well that Yasushi had orchestrated this test.
"You've surprised me greatly," Yasushi admitted. "I saw only a director before me, but now I see much more."
Arthur's response was just a smile, interrupted by the excited ninja.
"That was amazing!" Kurotani bounced with enthusiasm.
"See? This proves ninja techniques are superior to samurai ways!" Yokuma declared.
The age-old argument erupted again between the warriors.
"Such children," Yasushi sighed, guiding Arthur away from the bickering to discuss their film project and Arthur's broader plans for Japon.
***
Sunlight filtered through paper screens in the rented production office, where hopeful actors filled the hall's wooden benches.
The scent of fresh tea and nervous energy mingled in the air as the line stretched down the corridor of the minor film studio Arthur had commandeered for auditions.
News of Arthur's samurai film project had spread like wildfire through Japon's entertainment circles after major TV channels and newspapers broke the story. Film critics and industry insiders buzzed with anticipation about how this foreign director would handle their cultural heritage.
Nervous whispers rippled through the waiting actors.
"Just imagine - being in a hundred-million-dollar film!" an actor nudged his friend excitedly. "This could be our big break!"
"Keep dreaming," his companion sighed. "Look who we're competing against."
All eyes drifted to Seiji Kurotaba, the famous Japonese star whose mere presence seemed to crush their hopes. His polished appearance and confident bearing made the other actors shrink into themselves.
Amid the growing murmurs of doubt, a loud voice cut through the tension. "Would you all shut your traps? You're giving me a migraine!"
Heads turned to see Enji sprawled sideways across his chair, one leg draped over the armrest. Without warning, he picked his nose and flicked the result in Seiji's direction. "Who cares if someone's famous? Good acting is good acting."
He let out a dry chuckle. "One thing about Hellfire Studio - Arthur Pendragon judges talent, not reputation. Unlike these other fancy studios with their politics."
His crude confidence sparked hope in the previously dejected faces around him. Even Seiji remained silent, unable to dispute the truth in Enji's words.
Among the crowd stood 90-year-old Rendō Arakiba, his presence commanding quiet respect.
The veteran actor had devoured the "Seven Samurai" script, seeing himself in Kambei's role. The youthful energy buzzing through the hall didn't faze him - he simply waited his turn with practiced patience.
As the line dwindled, Rendō finally entered the production office to face the famous director. But Arthur's reputation meant little to him. His sole focus was bringing Kambei to life - the director could've been anyone.
Still, he showed Arthur proper respect, acknowledging both his young age and remarkable achievements. While "Harry Potter" hadn't impressed Rendō, "Seven Samurai's" script had captured his imagination.
He poured everything into his audition, silently praying for the role that seemed written for him.
***
A week later, Arthur reviewed his mental shortlist: Rendō Arakiba for Kambei, Enji Akagiri for Kikuchiyo, Seiji Kurotaba for Kyūzo, and Tetsuya Hōjō for Shichirōji.
The talent was undeniable, though each brought their quirks. Enji's rebellious nature stood out sharply against Japon's conservative culture. Seiji maintained a calculating silence that hinted at hidden motives. And Rendō carried himself with an intensity that could either be age or natural ferocity.
Yet despite their eccentric personalities, their acting abilities were exactly what the film needed.
A few days later, Arthur wrapped up the final auditions, setting the stage for production. The samurai's technical guidance combined with government permits and the third prince's backing smoothed the path forward.
All that remained was waiting for his crew to arrive in Japon, their entry guaranteed by Arthur's connections. His status, similar to Empirica's "green card," allowed him free reign in the kingdom.
***
Two days later, Arthur welcomed his arriving crew, the ghostly members materializing alongside their living counterparts.
Production began in earnest. Curious onlookers gathered at a distance, watching the unusual spectacle of foreign filmmakers working alongside Japonese talent.
Though occasional demon interference interrupted shoots, the filming progressed steadily under Arthur's direction, each day bringing the story closer to life.
While Arthur immersed himself in "Seven Samurai," a different story unfolded in USE's shadows. Through the poorest districts, where rain-stained walls carried desperate hopes, whispers of Dionysus spread like wildfire. In dim alleyways and crowded tenements, the prayer sheets passed from hand to hand, each new believer adding to the growing faith.
John, architect of this spiritual movement, kept to the shadows as instructed. Though he yearned to openly spread the word, Arthur's warning echoed in his mind: "Stay hidden. Complete your work there, then come to Horn Kingdom. You have the makings of a great actor."
Arthur's promise of an acting career fueled John's caution. In shadowy meeting places, he and his followers wore masks, hiding their identities from even each other.
"Pope John," the masked followers bowed deeply.
John suppressed a sigh. Despite his protests, they insisted on the title.
"What news? Have the false gods' followers noticed our movement?" Tension threaded through his voice.
"We're careful, Pope," a young voice spoke from behind a mask. "No one suspects."
Another follower shifted nervously. "Some suspicious figures in our neighborhood, but nothing immediate to fear."
As more reports filtered in, John nodded gravely. "Stay vigilant. We can't afford attention from the false gods' servants. Not yet."
***
Afternoon light filtered through stained glass windows in the small Solarus church, casting rainbow patterns across the sun god's golden statue. In her sparse chamber, Sister Elena frowned at the prayer sheet in her hands.
"Dionysus? Lord of Entertainment?" The words felt strange on her tongue.
She remembered the bright-eyed child who'd brought it. "Please pray to Dionysus," the girl had begged. "He gives hope to those who ask."
"Dionysus?" Elene asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
The girl nodded and replied, "Yes, he's the god who answered my prayer. He provides me with food after I recite the prayers written on that paper."
"A god who answers prayers?" Elena had exclaimed, disbelieving.
"Yes! He sent food when I prayed," the girl's voice had rung with conviction. "Thank goodness I can read, or my family might still be hungry!"
Now Elena stared at the prayer sheet, torn between doubt and worry.
She doubted the girl's story, but if a god truly did respond, it meant that Dionysus was incredibly dangerous.
บท 187: Offerings
(Elena POV)
I needed to learn more about this Dionysus - especially about these followers of a false god. I decided to revisit the spot where I'd met the girl.
She had told me Dionysus actually answered her prayers. Now that I thought about it more deeply, her life could be in danger if such an entity was demanding something in exchange for answered prayers.
I made my way through the poor district where we'd first met. To my luck, I spotted her right away. She stood out in the dreary surroundings, her eyes bright with life, a large sack resting at her feet.
"Hi, lady! We meet again!" The girl noticed me and gave me a warm smile.
I nodded back with a smile of my own, glancing at the sack. "Hi. What do you have in there?"
"Ah, this?" The girl looked down and opened the sack, revealing fresh produce inside. "Just some fruits and vegetables."
"Oh, healthy foods," I said with curiosity. "Are you planning to sell them?"
I thought she must be selling them, but to my surprise, she shook her head. "This? Hehe, no. I'm going to give them to my neighbors."
That caught me off guard. As she spoke, people from the neighborhood began gathering around her. The girl happily distributed the fruits and vegetables to everyone who came.
I watched in amazement. This girl clearly lived in the same poverty as everyone else here, yet she was giving away all this food without hesitation.
After she'd given away the last of it, I had to ask, "Why did you give everything away? What about yourself?"
"Didn't I tell you before?" she replied simply. "Lord Dionysus will give me more food whenever I pray for it."
Her words left me more and more troubled. "This Lord Dionysus... it would be better if you stayed away from such an entity, young girl..."
The girl's face scrunched in confusion. "Why? He has always been kind to me."
I sighed. "I'm part of the Solarus Faith, and I must tell you - except for the Three Known Gods, you shouldn't pray to any others. They're false gods who only want to deceive you."
The girl's expression turned wary at my words. "So you're one of them - a follower of the false gods?"
"What?" I exclaimed, taken aback. As we continued talking, the girl insisted that the "Three Known Gods" were actually the false ones, and that only Lord Dionysus was true.
I sighed, feeling the weight of concern as I asked, "What's your name, child?"
"Me? I'm Crystal," she replied, her voice clear and bright.
I knelt down to meet her eyes, making sure she could see the seriousness in my expression. "Listen carefully, Crystal. Even if Dionysus answers your prayers now, have you considered what he might want in return?"
"In return?" Crystal's innocent eyes widened with confusion.
I nodded slowly. "Yes. These gifts - they seem too good to be true. What if Dionysus is asking for something precious in exchange... like your soul?"
Fear flickered across Crystal's face, but she shook her head firmly. "No, that's not true. I've spoken with Him myself. He's kind and really cares about me!"
Her words sent a chill down my spine. This entity was actually communicating with the child? That could only mean Dionysus had already marked Crystal as a target.
This revelation meant the entity was watching from the Spiritual World. The thought made my blood run cold.
My mind flashed back to my days at Solarus School.
I could still see the towering marble columns of the lecture hall, smell the burning incense that always accompanied our lessons. Our teacher's stern voice echoed in my memory as she explained the Spiritual World - that shadowy realm where false gods dwelled. While most entities there couldn't touch our physical world, some dangerous exceptions existed, capable of reaching across the barrier to harm mortals.
The fact that Crystal received both answers and physical food from Dionysus proved this entity could affect our world. The realization terrified me.
I tried warning Crystal further, but her faith remained unshakeable. I couldn't force her to abandon her beliefs in Dionysus. In a way, I understood - when someone answers your prayers and feeds your family, faith comes naturally.
For now, I could only watch over Crystal. The thought of reporting this to the church gnawed at me, but I hesitated. Who knew what they might do to her?
Though I was a sister of Solarus, even I didn't know all the church's methods. The whispered rumors of how they dealt with cult members sent shivers down my spine - tales of harsh interrogations and worse.
No, I needed to observe first. I would only bring her to the church if something happened to her.
***
Day after day, I visited Crystal. To my growing surprise, she seemed to glow brighter with each passing day, her smile more radiant than ever. Yet this only heightened my concern. At any moment, Dionysus could snatch everything away from her.
Everything I'd learned about false gods told me they always demanded payment from their followers - usually within days or at most a week after answering prayers.
But days passed, and Dionysus asked nothing of Crystal. It defied everything I knew.
Then, a week later, Crystal ran up to me, practically bouncing. "Sister Elena, you were right! Lord Dionysus is asking for something in return!"
My heart plummeted. "What does he want?" I asked, dreading the answer.
Crystal's reaction stunned me - she beamed. "Lord Dionysus wants wine and grapes!"
I nearly choked on air. "W-what? Wine and grapes?"
"Mhm!" Crystal nodded eagerly. "He says they're his favorites. And he's not even forcing me to give them - I want to!" She paused, looking up at me with pleading eyes. "Sister Elena, could you help me get some wine and grapes?"
My astonishment grew as she added sweetly, "Please?"
"Alright," I sighed, unable to resist her hopeful expression.
Crystal beamed with joy. Looking at her innocent face, I felt relieved that Dionysus wasn't demanding her soul, yet my confusion only grew.
Who exactly was this Dionysus?
I'd noticed others in this poor district praying to him too. But these followers were different from any cult I'd encountered before. They carried themselves with dignity, kept their surroundings clean, and showed none of the wild fervor I'd come to expect from false god worshippers.
My opinion of Dionysus began to waver, but I quickly caught myself. Whether he asked for wine and grapes or souls, he was still a false god.
The marketplace buzzed with afternoon activity - vendors shouting prices, wooden carts creaking over cobblestones, the mingled scents of fresh bread and overripe fruit hanging in the air. Crystal bounced along beside me as we searched for wine and grapes. I could have taken wine from the church stores, but stealing felt wrong, and I couldn't explain why I needed it.
Looking at my wallet, now lighter by two dollars after purchasing the offerings, I could only sigh as we headed to Crystal's home.
The single room she shared with her family barely fit two thin mattresses. Faded curtains hung limply from rusted rods, and a cracked window let in the afternoon light. Despite the poverty, the space was surprisingly clean.
"Where are your parents?" I asked, looking around the sparse room.
Crystal's smile never dimmed. "The followers of Lord Dionysus made them get jobs."
"Made them get jobs?" I echoed in surprise.
She nodded. "They used to fight all day, but Lord Dionysus saw our situation. He told his followers, and now Mom works as a waitress and Dad's a laborer."
My astonishment grew. A false god concerned about a mortal family's welfare? This was unheard of.
Crystal's siblings lay peacefully sleeping on one mattress. She carefully arranged the wine and grapes on a clean cloth spread over the floor. As she began to pray, the room's atmosphere shifted subtly. The light seemed to dim, creating mysterious shadows in the corners.
Then a voice spoke, warm and gentle: "Little girl, thank you for this."
Dionysus!?
I should have felt terror at hearing a false god's voice, but instead, a comforting warmth filled the room. Before my eyes, the wine and grapes vanished in a shower of golden sparks.
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