Kaishakunin.

In Sakura Country, only those who needed to commit seppuku would require a kaishakunin.

Especially Classer, whose Physiques were incomparably formidable under the bonuses of their attributes.

Trying to end one's life through conventional seppuku was an almost impossible task, because that bit of a wound was simply not fatal enough.

The so-called kaishakunin was more like an executioner.

The significance of their existence was precisely to completely end the other person's life.

Nakamura Shinichiro asked knowingly.

He could not believe, nor could he accept, that these words would come from the mouth of his most respected teacher.

Omiya Yoto looked at his disciple's face, which was filled with shock and bewilderment, and gave a hearty smile.

In that smile, there was not a shred of fear towards death, only relief and composure.

"As the last surviving Divine Artisan of Sakura Country, do you think the Kujo Family will let me go?"

"They might not kill me."

"But they will surely try every possible means to make me forge more equipment for them, more murderous sharp weapons."

When the old man reached this point, a trace of bone-deep disgust flashed in his eyes.

"My hammer is swung for protection."

"My iron burns for conviction."

"My equipment must never fall into the hands of those butchers who despise life."

He slowly turned around, and his heavily calloused large hands heavily patted Nakamura Shinichiro's shoulders.

"Rather than clinging to life in disgrace and enduring endless humiliation, it is better to die to prove one's ambition."

"Nakamura, this is Teacher's final wish."

"Can you fulfill it?"

The tone was incomparably sincere, even carrying a hint of a plea.

"Teacher..."

Nakamura Shinichiro could no longer suppress it, and tears burst from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks.

He knew his teacher very well.

This old man possessed an artisan's unique, almost paranoid pride and stubbornness.

Once he made up his mind, no one in this world could persuade him otherwise.

Nakamura Shinichiro's lips moved, wanting to persuade him, but he found that his throat felt as if it were blocked by a ball of cotton, unable to utter a single word.

He knew that everything was already irredeemable.

He hesitated for a long time.

He struggled for a long time.

In the end, through his blurred tearful vision, Nakamura Shinichiro saw his teacher's eyes filled with entreaty and trust.

He gritted his teeth fiercely, letting the salty tears flow into his mouth.

Finally, he slowly and heavily nodded.

"Rumble—"

Right at this moment, a dense sound of footsteps came from the distant corridor, moving from afar to near, becoming clearer and clearer.

Probably the Omiya Family disciples who received the news had rushed over hastily.

They wanted to stop this Clan's uncle from committing this most resolute and foolish act.

There was not the slightest trace of surprise on Omiya Yoto's face.

He glanced at the heavy stone door of the smithy and said to Nakamura Shinichiro.

"Go, close the door."

"Before I finish, no one is allowed to enter."

Nakamura Shinichiro wiped away his tears and nodded heavily.

This door had been personally designed by Teacher back then.

It was carved from a single piece of obsidian mined from deep within a volcano, and dozens of complex defensive Formations were engraved upon it.

Once closed from the inside, unless one possessed powerful enough strength to shake mountains, it was utterly impossible to open it from the outside.

Nakamura Shinichiro used all his strength to push the cold and heavy stone door.

"Boom—"

Accompanied by a muffled loud noise, the stone door slowly closed.

Outside the door, anxious shouts and violent pounding sounds rang out almost at the same time.

"Uncle! Uncle Yoto! Are you inside?I"

"Open the door quickly!"

"Don't do anything foolish! We still have a chance!"

"We can make a comeback!"

"You are the last hope of our Omiya Family! You cannot afford to have anything happen to you!"

One sorrowful cry after another, like the sharpest blade, stabbed into Nakamura Shinichiro's heart over and over again.

Leaning his back against the cold stone door, his body slowly slid down, and finally he collapsed weakly onto the ground, burying his face deep between his knees, letting out irrepressible, beast-like whimters.

Listening to those desperate cries outside the door, a trace of reluctance also flashed in the eyes of the old man inside the smithy.

But he quickly suppressed this emotion.

He raised his voice, and his voice penetrated the heavy stone door, clearly transmitting into everyone's ears.

"All of you go back."

"My mind is made up."

"From now on, the Omiya Family will rely on you all."

"Do not let this old man down!"

Having said this, he no longer paid attention to the clamor outside the door.

The entire world seemed to have quieted down at this moment.

In a daze, Omiya Yoto's thoughts returned to a few days ago.

That was in his small attic room located at the top of the Heart of the Divine Craftsman, a tranquil place that belonged only to himself.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the wooden lattice windows, casting mottled light and shadows.

The air was permeated with a bitter fragrance of tea and a faint scent of sandalwood.

He and Soma Kosuke sat facing each other, and on the low table in front of them, a set of ancient tea sets was bubbling and giving off heat.

Soma Kosuke picked up his teacup, took a light sip, and a satisfied look appeared on his face.

"The tea here at your place has the most authentic taste."

Omiya Yoto did not speak, merely picking up the teapot to refill it for him.

Soma Kosuke looked at the clear tea soup in the cup, remained silent for a moment, and suddenly smiled.

"Yoto, in these few days, I will make a move against Kujo Koji."

"By then, regardless of success or failure, I will surely die."

"To still be able to drink the tea here at your place before death, I am already without regrets."

Omiya Yoto's hand refilling his tea did not tremble in the slightest.

He raised his eyes, quietly looking at this old friend of his who he had known for a lifetime.

Years had carved deep traces on Soma Kosuke's face, but those eyes remained clear, carrying a trace of uninhibited detachment that saw through worldly affairs.

Omiya Yoto did not say any words of dissuasion.

He knew that when Soma Kosuke spoke these words in such a tone, everything was already a foregone conclusion.

He slowly put down the teapot and tidied his lapels.

Then, he bowed deeply and heavily toward Soma Kosuke.

"Please."

There were no superfluous words, only these three words.

Yet they bore the future of the entire Omiya Family and his heaviest entrustment in this life.

Seeing this, Soma Kosuke smiled and waved his hand, signaling him to sit down.

"You and I have been acquainted for over sixty years, so there is no need to be so courteous."

"Sit down and accompany me to finish these last few cups of tea."

Omiya Yoto sat straight as instructed and smiled along with him.

He picked up his teacup again, raising it halfway in the air.

"Replacing wine with tea, I bid you farewell on your journey."

Soma Kosuke also raised his teacup and gently tapped it against his, producing a crisp sound.

"If you succeed this time," Omiya Yoto gazed at him and said word by word, "I will erect a monument for you under the largest cherry blossom tree on Sakura Peak."

"Let the world remember forever that there was once a hero named Soma Kosuke who gave his all to protect this country."

Soma Kosuke only smiled and did not speak.

Omiya Yoto paused, his voice becoming deeper, yet also firmer.

"If you fail, then I will also go with you."

"On the road to Yellow Springs, we can still keep each other company and not be lonely."

The two looked at each other and smiled, just like the two youths who first met under that cherry blossom tree sixty years ago.

There were no grandiose words, no sorrowful weeping.

What remained was only the deepest tacit understanding and promise between men.