The salt-laced wind whipped across the bustling docks of Silverport, the last major imperial harbor before the treacherous mists surrounding Magitopia. Seiji stood apart from the crowd, a figure of quiet intensity amidst the chaos of sailors, merchants, and travelers. He wore a dark, hooded traveler's cloak, but his posture—ramrod straight and perfectly balanced—betrayed a martial discipline that set him apart. To any observer, he was just another mercenary or minor noble seeking passage to the fabled land of mages. They couldn't see the five members of the Shadow Beast, his personal elite guard, who existed as living patches of darkness clinging to his own shadow, their presence known only to him.
His attention was drawn to a heated commotion near a gaudy merchant stall laden with trinkets and "artifacts." A group of merchants, their corpulent bodies straining against silks embroidered with gold thread, were loudly arguing with a young man and his small, nervous-looking entourage. Seiji's sharp eyes, however, instantly pierced the disguise. The "young man" was a girl. Her chest was bound flat, her hair tucked under a cap, and her voice was pitched low, but the delicate bone structure of her jaw, the long lashes, and the way her hands moved gave her away.
"...an outright fraud!" the girl was saying, her controlled voice trembling with anger. She held up a silver pendant set with a milky blue stone. "You claimed this was a Starfall Sapphire, a genuine focus for water magic! It's nothing but polished sodalite! It couldn't focus a puddle!"
The lead merchant, a man with a beard oiled into two ridiculous points, spread his hands in a gesture of mock innocence. "My dear boy! Such accusations! You inspected it yourself! A transaction is a transaction. Perhaps your own magical acumen is… lacking?" His companions chuckled, a nasty, knowing sound.
From the depths of Seiji's shadow, a voice, cold and devoid of emotion, whispered directly into his mind. It was Zero, the leader of the Shadow Beast. "Sir. This noise is a distraction. Do you require us to… silence it?"
Seiji's response was a silent, mental pulse. "No need. Observe. This girl is not as helpless as her appear."
He watched the girl's eyes. Behind the anger, there was a flicker of calculation. One of her attendants, a man who looked more like a scholar than a bodyguard, subtly adjusted his stance, his fingers twitching in a pattern that spoke of spell preparation. The girl was creating a scene not out of helpless frustration, but to draw attention, to put the merchants on the back foot. She was playing a game, and Seiji was curious to see how it would end.
After a few more minutes of heated exchange, the merchant, growing wary of the crowd that was gathering, finally spat, "Fine! Take your fake stone and get lost! I am a charitable man. Don't let me see your face again!" He snatched the pendant back and shooed them away, his face red with a mixture of anger and unease.
The girl—call her disguise "Alex"—gave a curt, triumphant nod to her companions and melted back into the crowd, the confrontation resolved without bloodshed, but on her terms.
Later, as Seiji boarded the large, three-masted caravel Sea Serpent bound for Magitopia, he found himself sharing the deck with the same "young man." Alex was leaning against the railing, watching the dockworkers with a keen, intelligent gaze. Their eyes met, and Alex offered a small, wary smile, approaching him.
"The crowd earlier," Alex said, her voice still carefully modulated. "You were there. You saw that… unpleasantness."
Seiji gave a slight, noncommittal nod.
"My name is Alex," she continued. "I'm a scholar, on my way to Magitopia for research." Her eyes scanned Seiji, and he could see the curiosity in them. "You… stand out. Your eyes. They see everything, don't they? And your face… it's like you're carrying the weight of something much larger than this ship."
Seiji remained silent, but a faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. Perceptive. He had done nothing to draw attention to himself, yet this disguised noblewoman had picked him out of the crowd. The journey to Magitopia, he thought, had just become significantly more interesting.
"I am a traveler," Seiji finally replied, his voice a low, calm baritone. "Seeking knowledge, same as you."
It was a vague answer, but it seemed to satisfy Alex for the moment. She nodded, and they stood in a comfortable silence as the ship's crew prepared to cast off, the great sails unfurling to catch the wind that would carry them toward the mysterious magical kingdom.
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Hundreds of miles to the north, a different kind of journey was underway. The air was thin and cold, the road a ribbon of dirt and rock winding through the jagged, unforgiving peaks of the Dragon's Tooth mountains—the only land route into Valhalla. A single, sturdy merchant's carriage, pulled by four shaggy, mountain-bred horses, trundled along the path. Inside, Tsurugi sat, his form disguised in the rich, if travel-stained, robes of a spice merchant from the southern empires. The persona was a perfect cover; Valhalla had little interest in goods but a high demand for exotic seasonings to make their gamey meats and hard bread more palatable.
If Seiji's chosen guards were creatures of shadow, Tsurugi's were beings of pure, disciplined energy. Using the ninjutsu principles of Ninja Red, Hurricane Red, and Akaninger to project his will, and the martial foundation of Red Mask, Ryuuranger, and Geki Red to give it solid form, he had created the Aura Soldiers. Unlike the Shadow Beast, they didn't hide. At this moment, the driver and the two outriders accompanying the carriage were Aura Soldiers, their forms perfectly mimicking humans, their auras suppressed to feel like competent, if unremarkable, mercenary guards.
Tsurugi lay back against the sacks of saffron and cardamom, his mind not on his cover story, but on the challenge ahead. Valhalla. A kingdom that revered strength above all. How does one negotiate with such a culture? You didn't. You proved your worth. You demonstrated power. He was running through scenarios—a formal challenge? A display of power in their warrior's arena?—when the carriage lurched to a sudden halt.
The silence that followed was more alarming than the stop itself. The normal sounds of the mountain—the wind, the distant cry of an eagle—were gone. Then, a brief, sharp cry was cut off, followed by two more in quick succession. The sound of steel being drawn, then the wet, final sounds of it finding its mark.
The carriage door opened, and Z, the Aura Soldier posing as the lead guard, stepped inside. His human disguise was flawless—a grizzled veteran with a scar across his cheek. His voice, however, was the same flat, resonant tone of all his kind.
"Apologies for the delay, Master," Z reported, his expression neutral. "There were individuals blocking the path. The way is clear now."
Z did not elaborate, but Tsurugi didn't need him to. A convoy of three or four merchant caravans on this road was a fat prize for the bandits and desperate mountain tribes that haunted these passes. They had seen a lone, seemingly vulnerable carriage and had pounced. It was a simple, brutal calculation of risk and reward.
Unfortunately for them, they had chosen to rob a traveling hurricane disguised as a breeze.
"Dispose of the evidence. We continue," Tsurugi ordered, his voice devoid of emotion. He hadn't even needed to lift a finger. The Aura Soldiers, their power a fraction of his own but still far beyond any mortal bandit, had handled the threat with the silent, efficient finality of a natural disaster.
Z bowed his head and exited, closing the door. The carriage soon began to move again, the steady clop of the horses' hooves the only sound. Tsurugi closed his eyes, the brief interruption already forgotten. His focus returned to Valhalla. The path to an alliance was paved with strength, and he was prepared to lay down a road of crimson and steel to secure it. The bandits had merely been the first, insignificant test. The real trial awaited him in the hall of the Warrior King.