The sensation of gravel still lingered across his entire body. As dawn broke, morning light filtered into the riverbed, and Souichi stood up. The wound on his back wasn't severe enough to prevent movement. But if he pushed too hard, it would open. That much he knew. Gintsuki was already standing. She adjusted the hem of her clothes and gazed toward the river. Her white profile. Her lips formed a shape once—then closed silently, without sound. Words wouldn't come. He had no voice yet. Last night, Gintsuki had pressed her forehead against his wound, continuing to share her body heat with him. This morning, she stared straight at the river. Souichi's gaze lingered on her back for just one second. He couldn't bring himself to look any longer than that. (So, what do we do?) Walking alongside someone who couldn't speak. It was just that simple, yet it turned out to be a surprisingly complex problem to think through, Souichi realized as he stepped on the gravel. ——— Souichi knelt down and picked up a stick from the gravel. He drew a diagram on the ground. Gintsuki watched with a face that seemed to ask what he was doing—he could read most of it just from her expression. "[serious]Grip my hand once to stop. Twice to move forward," He drew a line in the gravel. Two arrows. Right and left. "[serious]Tap my right shoulder for right. Tap my left shoulder for left. How's that?" Gintsuki glanced at the diagram. Her eyebrows rose ever so slightly. It was more of a confirmation than admiration. Then she nodded slightly. Good, Souichi thought, standing up. ——— Five minutes into walking, a problem arose. Every time Souichi tried to confirm direction, he found himself leaning in close to Gintsuki's face. To check if she understood. To confirm whether she'd nodded, the distance between their faces inevitably grew closer. Gintsuki's silver hair swayed in the morning river breeze. His breath reached her at this distance. (This is... the system I suggested, isn't it?) Souichi turned to face forward. The back of his neck felt slightly warm. A forty-year-old man getting flushed over something like this—it felt like he was losing something as a middle-aged man. But he couldn't proceed without confirming, so he leaned in again. Gintsuki nodded seriously every time. With so little change in her expression, only her eyes answered. Souichi decided that his racing pulse was completely his imagination. He nearly stumbled on a stone by the roadside and looked down at his feet. Grass was growing. The path along the tributary of the Mioshio River was slightly slippery from early morning dew. The sound of the river came continuously from his left. Bird calls echoed somewhere. —Then his sleeve was tugged. Souichi stopped. A very light sensation on his left arm. Fingertips pinching the edge of his sleeve. It was Gintsuki. Since she had no voice, she probably didn't want to get separated. It was likely an instinctive action. He understood the reason. Yet his arm's pace slowed for just a moment. Cold fingertips. That sensation transmitted through a single layer of fabric. (At my age, just being tugged by the sleeve...) Souichi said nothing and continued walking. He didn't change his pace. He only fixed his arm at a height where Gintsuki could walk comfortably. He didn't fully understand what he was doing, but since Gintsuki didn't fall, he decided to call it a success. ——— They walked along the tributary of the Mioshio River, heading upstream toward Akari Town. The path should eventually merge with the main road. If they could make it back to Akari Town—to Akari Town, there was the Yonabeya. They could treat his wounds. That was all he thought about. Souichi tried to adjust his course slightly to the right and placed his hand on Gintsuki's right shoulder. But his tapping position was off. He ended up pressing near the inside of her shoulder blade—and Gintsuki's body flinched. When Souichi hurriedly tried to face forward, Gintsuki's face came into his view. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. Expressionless, she stared back at him. "[sarcastic]Was it ticklish... but you can't answer since you have no voice," Self-deprecating commentary spilled from his lips. He was being foolish. He scratched his head. Gintsuki didn't answer. Instead, the fingertips that had been pinching the edge of his sleeve moved toward his wrist. Softly, gently, they gripped it. Pulling his hand was more reliable than tapping his shoulder—that was probably it. A silent suggestion for improvement. A practical judgment. He understood. He understood, but Souichi's feet stopped. For several seconds. Only the flow of the Mioshio River made sound. Gintsuki remained still, looking up at Souichi, waiting for the next direction. "[serious]...Let's keep walking," He faced forward. Gintsuki's fingertips didn't leave his wrist. The two continued walking side by side. (The improvement made it even closer.) As Souichi listened to the river's sound, he felt as though he'd quietly left his dignity as a middle-aged man behind on the riverbed. ——— In a section of the road before Akari Town, a forest of conifers stretched along the roadside. Souichi, facing forward, felt the air change at the forest's edge. A presence. Three of them. When they emerged from the forest's shadow, they noticed Souichi and Gintsuki almost simultaneously. They were demons. Three well-built bodies with horns. Weapons at their waists, and the emblem of the Kusukan—the radical militant faction pursuing Gintsuki—sewn onto their shoulders. A patrol unit. The kind that regularly swept the roads through human territory. They sized up Souichi and Gintsuki in an instant. A voiceless witch and her human companion. They judged them as no particular threat, and with confident expressions, began deploying a magical barrier. A thin membrane of light enveloped the three. The encirclement began. Gintsuki's fingertips tensed. She was trying to gather magical power. But she had no voice. She couldn't use word-weaving. She couldn't function as a combatant. Souichi squeezed Gintsuki's wrist once. Stop. Gintsuki stopped. Souichi stepped in front of her. He drew his sword. Something connected in his mind at that moment. When he first fought a magical beast. When he encountered pursuers chasing Gintsuki. The deadly struggle in Suixia's cave. Every time, his blade had passed straight through magical barriers. He'd wondered why, but continued using it without understanding the reason. Now, he understood. The swordsmanship he'd honed for thirty years in the dojo contained not a single particle of magical power. A blade made purely of physical technique. The barriers constructed by this world's demons were made of magic—meaning they sensed and defended against magic. A sword with zero magic couldn't trigger the barrier. It passed through as if it didn't exist. For thirty years, he'd simply swung a sword. The dojo he'd been told was outdated. In this world, it had become his one and only weapon. The leading demon laughed mockingly and charged through the barrier. Souichi didn't dodge. He stepped in. From middle guard to torso strike. The blade touched the barrier and passed through. The first demon fell to its knees. The remaining two froze. They exchanged glances—the barrier shouldn't have been broken, a moment of shock. Second demon. Face strike. He struck and broke its stance. Reversing the blade. Small hand strike to the third. Its wrist stopped moving. All three fell to the ground. It was over. Souichi sheathed his sword while catching his breath. His back wound was making its presence known. His legs were trembling slightly. The limit of middle age. He dropped to his knees, touching the ground. He turned around. Gintsuki was there. Her lips were moving. There was no sound. But he could read the shape. S... o... u... i... c... h... i. His name. She was trying to call his name. Gintsuki's eyes were red. Tears traced silently down her cheeks. In her gaze toward Souichi, there was no anger, no fear, no blame. Only something that couldn't become a voice, overflowing from her lips alone. Souichi, still on his knees, turned toward Gintsuki. "[gentle]Even if I can't hear it, it reaches me," He spoke quietly, in a low voice. "[gentle]I stake my pride as an old man on protecting you. That's all," He knew it was a corny line. It wasn't the kind of thing to say while on his knees, breathing heavily, with no composure. But no other words came to him. Gintsuki took a step forward. She pressed her forehead against his chest. And didn't move. There was no crying sound. No sobbing. Only her shoulders trembling slightly. Gintsuki cried silently, her forehead pressed against Souichi's chest. Souichi gently wrapped his arms around Gintsuki's slender back. She felt fragile, like something that might break. Something was beating fast in his chest. It was Gintsuki's heartbeat. Fast. The same speed as Souichi's own pulse. The two seemed to overlap through his chest, transmitting throughout his entire body. Souichi didn't loosen his arms. The river's sound echoed distantly. ——— When they passed through the east gate of Akari Town, Tougo was there. He sat slumped against a pillar beside the gate guard, his back against the stone. The right half of his face was swollen. His clothes were a mixture of blood and mud, and one of his shoes was half-fallen off. By any measure, he'd been through a rough time. When Souichi approached, Tougo looked up. "[sarcastic]Well, you're alive, old man," He tried to smile, but the wound on his cheek twisted his face in pain. Souichi said nothing. He grabbed Tougo's chest for a moment, and the next instant, his right fist connected with Tougo's cheek. Thud. Tougo flew sideways and hit the ground. Gintsuki watched the entire exchange with an expressionless face, still not releasing Souichi's sleeve. Tougo slowly got up. He wiped blood from his nose with his sleeve. "[sad]That hurt... but I guess you're nice, old man, getting it over with in one punch," "[cold]Want another?" "[scared]No thanks," The answer was immediate. Souichi stood before Tougo with his arms crossed. "[serious]I'll listen to what you have to say," Tougo remained seated on the ground, his elbows on his knees. The playfulness vanished from his expression, and his face became something else. He spoke of being judged as expendable by the Kusukan and nearly being executed. Of barely escaping. And of—the vice commander who led the Kusukan units deployed in this region. Haikui. The man's hideout was in an abandoned fortress near Akari Town, Tougo said. The Kusukan used it as a patrol base. And Haikui's primary weapon was flame blood-weaving—a magical system unique to demons, a power "inscribed in the blood" different from word-weaving. It activated from within the body rather than through incantation. High power, but required three seconds of hardening to activate. "[serious]Three seconds, immobilized," Tougo said. "[serious]That's the only opening. If you can bait the first strike, the faster one wins," Souichi listened to the end. Arms crossed, silent. "[cold]If you betray us again, next time it's two punches," "[serious]Understood," Tougo nodded. Then he glanced at Gintsuki and murmured softly, "[sad]Your voice is gone...?" Gintsuki stared back at him expressionlessly. Not appraisal, not anger. An observation. Tougo couldn't withstand that gaze and looked away first. ——— When Souichi pushed open the door to the Yonabeya, Yoshino was at the counter turning pages in a ledger. A woman in her sixties with graying white hair. Broad-shouldered and possessing eyes that seemed to see through everything. The moment she saw the three of them, she closed the ledger. "[surprised]...Where have you been and what have you been doing?" Her voice was exasperated, but her body moved quickly. She retrieved keys fo