Chapter 54 The Blacksmith Stands Firm
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Calmys-san and I stepped through the teleportation gate, returning home. The City Mayor, Old Guy, and Dalma-san were waiting, each passing the time in their own way. The City Mayor was flipping through a modern translation of my Alchemist’s Research Book.
Why does she have that? I thought. Isn’t it restricted at the Central Library? And doesn’t she own a personal copy too?
In the yard, Old Guy and Dalma-san were sparring, training in pure martial skills without techniques or magic. Dalma-san seemed to have the edge.
I heard Old Guy excels in overall strength and command, I noted, but in close combat, Dalma-san’s the strongest in their party. Dalma-san read all of Old Guy’s feints, while Old Guy caught only about seventy percent of Dalma-san’s. With magic, Old Guy might win, but the Alchemist’s Egg gives Dalma-san an unfair equipment advantage.
”We’re back, my lord,” Calmys-san announced.
”Welcome back, Calmys. And you, Tatara,” the City Mayor said, glancing from her to me.
”You accomplished your goal, I take it?” she asked.
”Yes,” Calmys-san replied, then sighed. “I have something to report later.”
What happened at the headquarters? I wondered, but I had my own matters to address. “City Mayor, did you see Yohira and her guards before we got here?”
”Yes, about their Dungeon exploration permit? It’s approved, so no worries,” she said.
One issue down.
Now for reports and new business. “About my Appraisal technique,” I started.
”Oh? Did your students pick it up?” she asked, intrigued.
”Yeah, one of them mastered Demonsteel crafting,” I said. “Claims a perfect success rate—ten out of ten.” I pulled a Demonsteel ingot from my Inventory, handed it to her, and watched as she inspected it, likely using her own Appraisal.
”This is remarkable,” she said. “It’s as good as yours, Tatara.”
”Today, I used my academy privileges to teach them Shape Memory Alloy,” I explained. “The Demonsteel crafter struggles with it, but the one who learned Appraisal first excels at it.”
”You did that at the academy?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
”I felt bad just showing off my Crafting. Only two students bother to visit, so I gave them a special lesson.”
”Crafting’s banned at the academy except by workshop heads,” she pointed out.
”I exploit the loophole that it’s not classified as Crafting due to how few can do it,” I said.
She sighed.
”If that gets out, you’ll take the fall alone, and your students will suffer. Be careful.”
”I only teach the theory, not actual crafting,” I assured her. “They’ll do that themselves in advanced courses.”
She met my gaze, and I held it, showing my resolve.
After a moment, she smiled softly. “You’re a proper teacher, but as Chief Crafter, try not to let your emotions run wild like yesterday.”
”Yeah, uh… landmines get me,” I mumbled.
”It was a mess afterward,” she said. “I managed to gift one Mana Reactor and sell the other at a discount.”
”I’m really sorry,” I said, wincing.
”Your patents, your call,” she said. “No major loss since annual fees weren’t mentioned, and we secured royalties for new production.”
Really, really sorry, I thought.
”New Mana Reactors will likely cost fifty billion,” she added. “They’ll hesitate to pay.”
”Actually, I had an idea about that, but maybe I should hold off,” I said, recalling the Torakuma family’s plans.
Her eyes narrowed. “Spill it.”
”Okay,” I said. “First, my patent license is exclusive to the Torakuma family, right?”
”Yes, the Acting Head of the Torakuma family confirmed that,” she said. (T/N: Torakuma: Female-led family known for combat dance techniques.)
”Here’s the plan,” I continued. “Involve the central government—Hizuru’s emperor. Only the Torakuma family is authorized to produce Mana Reactors in Hizuru, but the government wants them nationwide.”
”So, let the Torakuma family produce and distribute them?” she guessed.
She caught on fast. Sharp as ever, I thought. “Exactly.
Get the government to subsidize the Torakuma family. Ideally, they split patent fees, but offer the Torakuma family a discount and charge the government full price. The difference pads their pockets.”
”That’s borderline international fraud,” she said. “Instead, we’ll charge standard rates and split costs with the government to ease the Torakuma family’s burden.”
She was on board, despite my earlier screw-up. She doesn’t hold grudges—nice, I thought.
”I have two conditions for the Torakuma family,” I added.
”Nothing unreasonable, I hope,” she said warily.
”No. First, they limit distribution to Hizuru. Second, they hold exclusive sales rights.”
”No overseas sales?” she clarified.
”Right. If Mana Reactors go abroad, Whirlwind—our homeland—won’t be happy. Could spark a war.”
”Fair point,” she agreed.
”Plus, Hizuru’s an island nation, not fully unified,” I said. “Mana Reactors could be a step toward unification. Solving energy issues gives them leverage, maybe enough to settle things through negotiation.”
She chuckled. “Let’s raise that at the next meeting.”
Guess she finds my ideas amusing, I thought. Might as well drop another bomb.
”By the way, someone else learned my Appraisal,” I said.
”Oh? Who?” she asked.
”Yohira, from the Torakuma family.”
”Yohira… Torakuma Yohira!?” she shrieked, startling Calmys-san, Old Guy, and Dalma-san, who rushed over.
”Why are you teaching your bizarre concepts to a foreign princess!?” she demanded.
”She got curious during our explorations,” I explained. “She had an open Skill Slot, so I taught her.”
”‘Taught her’ isn’t an excuse!” she snapped.
Whoa, that’s a reaction, I thought, bracing for the fallout.
”Why would a princess who’s not even a Crafter take an interest in Appraisal?” the City Mayor demanded, still reeling.
”She saw me using it in combat and thought it’d be useful,” I explained. “Said she wanted to learn it to help out.”
”Hold on, Julon,” Calmys-san cut in, her voice sharp with curiosity. “What do you mean, using your Conceptual Appraisal in combat?”
Old Guy and Dalma-san tilted their heads, clearly out of the loop on my Appraisal‘s specifics.
”Didn’t I mention?” I said. “My Conceptual Appraisal lets me see weaknesses in materials. For example, I can spot flaws in iron and reinforce them with Mana to make Demonsteel. Or, I can exploit those flaws to destroy something. Applied to combat, it’s like predicting a Golem’s moves or striking its weak points for a critical hit.”
Calmys-san’s eyes narrowed. “So, when you looked at Kerav earlier…”
”I saw its breakable points,” I admitted. “Not that I’d ever try.”
She clutched her head, groaning.
Guess it’s a headache to hear a Crafter could shatter any equipment, knight or warrior, I thought. But Kerav felt alive, like it could regenerate even if broken.
”Kid,” Old Guy said, “can we use that too?”
”If I teach you right after you learn Appraisal, probably,” I said. “But there’s a catch.”
”What’s that?” Dalma-san asked.
”First, I’ve only taught a few people, so data’s limited. Second, I’m not sure you’d get my exact Conceptual Appraisal.”
”Why not?” Old Guy pressed. “If you teach it, shouldn’t it be the same?”
”You’d have the ability, but what you see might differ,” I said.
Old Guy’s confusion was fair—I’d assumed the same at first. Here’s where it gets tricky, City Mayor, I thought.
”Yohira says she sees something different,” I continued. “My Appraisal focuses on inorganic stuff—hers is tuned to living things. She can spot distortions in life itself and target them in combat.”
”What’s that supposed to mean?” the City Mayor said, her voice heavy with disbelief.
I’m not mentioning how she screamed, seeing a friend’s ‘death,’ and clung to me, I decided. Not relevant.
”Julon,” Calmys-san said, her tone serious. “If Yohira-jousama used her Appraisal against me, who’d win?”
”Hard to say,” I admitted. “But with her Appraisal active, she’d likely read Kerav‘s trajectory and your dodges, landing hits. She’d probably have the edge.”
”Even against me?” Calmys-san murmured. She was undeniably Whirlwind’s strongest fighter, but Yohira’s Appraisal made her a specialist against living targets. If they clashed, I don’t see Calmys-san winning.
”By the way,” I said, “I plan to bring this up with the Acting Head of the Torakuma family at the next meeting.”
”Are you trying to start a war between Whirlwind and the Torakuma family?” the City Mayor snapped.
”They’d find out eventually,” I said. “Either we tell them, or Yohira does when she goes home.”
”I mean, I taught her at her request,” I added. “If the Torakuma family has an issue, I’ll take the heat. I’ll bring it up myself.”
The City Mayor sighed. “Just don’t trigger another landmine, okay?”
”I… can’t promise that,” I said sheepishly. I’m terrible at controlling my emotions, especially when someone hits a landmine. Yesterday, my wife deliberately provoked me to get the reaction she wanted. We’re a terrible match.
”You’re attending the next meeting with Yohira-jousama,” the City Mayor said. “Her parents probably won’t push your buttons with her there.”
”I hope so,” I said, unconvinced. The Acting Head might behave, but my wife? She’d probably treat Yohira like a tool in front of us, daring me to claim her. I can almost see her playing the villain to push Yohira and me together, I thought. Like some radical matchmaker. An image of Foolish Fox shouting, “Embrace her-degozaru!” from a window flashed through my mind. He’d totally do that.
”The teleportation gate’s ready for the next meeting?” I asked.
”No, I’ll report it in my regular update tonight,” the City Mayor said. “The Torakuma head probably didn’t expect it this fast. Or maybe they’re skeptical after hearing from Calmys-san.”
Calmys-san chuckled, a hint of sympathy in her tone. “They’ll either clutch their head or gape when they hear.”
Short acquaintance, so no surprise there, I thought.
”City Mayor, it’s getting late,” Old Guy said.
”Yeah, dark’s no good for us, even with escorts,” Dalma-san added.
The sky was indeed darkening. “Oh, it’s that late?” the City Mayor said.
”Even the three of us would struggle if ambushed at night,” Calmys-san noted. “My lord, we should go.”
”Fine,” the City Mayor agreed.
”Maybe I’ll plan a Mana Reactor-powered magic streetlamp for nighttime,” I mused.
”Tatara, submit that in a proper report later,” the City Mayor said. “Don’t drop exciting ideas at the last second.”
With that, they left. What a tiring day, I thought, gazing at the sky—a magical blend of crimson and ultramarine.
On nights like this, a blue full moon rises. Maybe I’d craft another statue, like the War God’s, to honor the gods. I’ve been neglecting my gratitude lately, I reflected, heading to the kitchen to prepare dinner for Ethelena and the others.
* * *
”We were shocked to see a torii in the yard when we got back,” Ethelena said as they sat at the dinner table.
”Well, Yohira’s family sent it,” I said. “They’re the ones who put a piece of your homeland in our yard.”
”True,” Yohira said. “No matter how much Tatara knows about our country, he wouldn’t just plop a torii here.”
”Fair point,” I agreed, slicing into my hamburger patty as we chatted.
”It lacks… meatiness-degozaru,” Foolish Fox grumbled.
”It’s a soy-and-vegetable mix for veggie-haters like you,” I said. “Made special so you don’t skip the salad. Eat up.”
”This special treatment sucks-degozaru,” he muttered, poking at his patty glumly. The others ate the same dish without complaint. Tengu-san, though, savored each bite with a look of awe, nodding as he chewed. Does he enjoy food too much?
”The vegetables’ sweetness blends with the ground meat’s juices, enhanced by… seaweed?” Tengu-san said. “It locks in the flavors, amplifying the umami. Fine work, Tatara-dono.”
”Getting called by name for my cooking feels… weird,” I said. Weren’t you calling me ‘Blacksmith-dono’ before? Why’s food changing that?
”Still, it makes me crave rice,” Yohira said.
”Yeah, rice goes with meat or fish,” I agreed. Hizuru’s taste leaned toward rice, but they lacked the sweet, sticky variety I craved. I’ll ask Yohira to tell the Acting Head we’re homesick for rice, I thought. With a magic rice cooker, I could recreate my past life’s appliance. If I can’t get good rice, what kind of Chief Crafter am I?
”Master, I finished-degozaru,” Foolish Fox said proudly.
”Good job,” I said. “Keep eating your veggies next time too.”
I gave a teary-eyed Foolish Fox a pat on the back for finishing his meal. Maybe a richer beef stew would get him to eat his veggies? I thought.
”Tatara, you look like Ichige-san’s owner,” Yohira teased. (T/N: Ichige: Foolish Fox’s real name.)
”You’re like a trainer taming her with food and baths,” Ethelena added with a grin.
”Do you have such skills, Tatara-dono?” Tengu-san asked, eyes sparkling.
”As if!” I shot back. If anything, Ethelena’s the one taming me—pushing kinks and breaking my limits. I shuddered at the memory.
”Still, no Dungeon exploration tomorrow, huh?” Yohira said.
”We haven’t maintained our equipment lately,” I replied. “Tatia agreed to dedicate tomorrow to maintenance and sparring.”
Since Ethelena and the others returned late, Tatia had left early but entrusted me with her gear for maintenance. I’d suggested sparring at home tomorrow, and she’d approved.
My goal was to learn from Hinagiku-san’s superior aerial combat skills. If I can absorb her techniques, they’ll be a trump card against similar foes, I thought.
”I’m looking forward to teaching that warrior, Tatia-dono, some aerial combat,” Tengu-san said, a glint in his eye.
”Total battle maniac, huh, Tengu-san?” I said.
”Kyuu… harsh words-degozaru,” Foolish Fox muttered. “But true-degozaru.”
Fox or monkey, you’re definitely a beast, I thought. Since he’s a ninja, maybe he could teach Ethelena some stealth moves. Scouting skills wouldn’t go to waste. For tomorrow, I’d craft urethane bamboo katanas in the morning to keep everyone safe during sparring. Equipment maintenance should wrap up by midday, and since Ethelena’s group has been exploring daily, a lighter day would help them recharge.
Alone in the workshop, I sketched a blueprint. It wasn’t easy, but I needed at least a concept for the Tatara Julon-Style Mana Reactor.
Using the Alchemist’s Egg as its core, it leveraged the Law of Universal Mana Gravitation for near-perpetual energy. The design was simple: the Egg, placed on a pedestal, collected Mana, which was then distributed via a Spell Formula. The challenge was crafting a Mithril pedestal to efficiently capture the Egg’s Mana and a Spell Formula to distribute it evenly.
A lossless system could power 1,250 households, but even Mithril’s Mana transmission efficiency was only about 80%. Using enhanced copper wiring could get close, but exporting it would stir trouble.
I want Shamir and Est to mass-produce this, I thought. Even after my patent fees, the profit per meter is huge. At the academy workshop, 50 meters of wire sold to the merchant guild could cover their scholarships. The real hurdle was sourcing enough copper—1 kilogram could yield over 100 meters, so they’d need to hustle.
Combining Mithril and enhanced copper, the reactor could likely power 800 households at best.
I finalized the blueprint and handed it to a bird-shaped Golem for delivery to the City Mayor by morning. She’ll suggest tweaks for better efficiency, I thought.
After crafting four urethane bamboo katanas, I wrapped up and opened the living room window—the one Ethelena and I had… pressed against during a moment. Sitting on the veranda, I gazed at the stunning blue full moon, sacred to the Moon Goddess, ruler of serenity and peace.
Closing my eyes, I pictured her, projecting the image onto a Mithril Ingot as I had at the War God’s temple. The ingot reshaped into a statue: a woman in a nightcap and pajamas, clutching a quirky, ugly-cute plushie, her cheek pressed against it, smiling sleepily like a child.
What the heck!? I thought, staring at the statue. This has zero divine vibe. Is this blasphemy? Maybe I needed to see the Moon Goddess’s temple statue to avoid the unease I’d felt with the War God’s. Sighing, I set the statue beside me and prayed to the moon, apologizing for the irreverent image and wishing for my companions’ peaceful future. As I finished, I reached to store the “hazardous material” in my Inventory, but it was gone. Am I… doomed? I thought, heart sinking.
Ethelena had gone to bed, so I retired to my room alone. As I drifted off, I felt a gentle hand clasp mine, like a parent soothing a child. Did Ethelena sneak in for some mama roleplay? I wondered, then panicked.
Or is this death coming for me? But sleep took me quickly, deep and dream-filled. Was that the Blue Moon Goddess intervening? Did my pajama statue offend her? I woke with a heavy head, shaking off the fog. Long dream, I thought, stumbling to the kitchen.
My sluggish brain couldn’t muster a fancy recipe, so I settled on hot sandwiches: ham and cheese, bacon and egg, tuna and onion, and bacon-lettuce-tomato. I sliced them up, keeping Foolish Fox’s veggie aversion in mind.
Got to make sure he eats balanced, I thought. Malnutrition leads to health issues. Was I thinking like a pet owner? Am I… corrupted?
”Morning, Tatara,” Ethelena’s familiar voice called from behind.
”Morning, Ethelena,” I replied, turning to see her in a tracksuit and bloomers, ready for action.
”Looking pumped,” I said.
”Of course,” she grinned. “I’m here to learn.”
She joined me, starting a tomato soup with onions and broccoli—likely a nod to Foolish Fox’s veggie struggles.
Like a mom fretting over a kid’s diet, I thought, amused. Our teamwork felt seamless, like we were in sync.
”Morning, you two,” Yohira said, stepping in.
”Morning, Yohira,” I replied.
”Hey, Torakuma,” Ethelena added.
I carried the hot sandwiches to the table—enough for five, requiring a couple of trips. Yohira pitched in, helping me set up. Once Tengu-san and Foolish Fox arrived, we’d start breakfast.
I brewed tea for the three of us, enjoying a calm moment. Yohira, experimenting with tea flavors, raved about milk tea—a Hizuru green tea twist she loved. She’s got a childish taste for milk, despite her beauty, I thought, smiling.
”Good morning, everyone,” Tengu-san said, entering.
”Morning-degozaru!” Foolish Fox chimed in.
Breakfast began. Foolish Fox eyed the ham and cheese sandwich, clearly plotting to hog it.
”Sha! Veggie-free-degozaru!”
”Nope,” I said. “Eat what’s on your plate.”
”Total trash move. I’m gonna cry-degozaru,” he muttered, slumping as he bit into a BLT sandwich. It’s light on veggies, relax, I thought.
Hinagiku-san, who’d been staying with us, devoured her BLT with sparkling eyes, savoring every bite.
”Tatara-dono, this sandwich with red eggplant and lettuce is delightful!” Hinagiku-san exclaimed. “The smoky saltiness of the bacon blends with the tomato’s tang, softened by the lettuce’s crisp moisture. The crunchy bread and the lettuce’s snap are a masterful combo!”
”Okay, okay, thanks for the enthusiasm,” I said, chuckling.
Chisha’s probably lettuce, right? I thought, recalling the old Japanese term. Not common, but it fits the texture. Hinagiku-san would probably love a club sandwich too. Her genuine enjoyment warmed me as a cook. Nothing motivates a chef like someone savoring their food.
”And this soup,” she continued, “with red eggplant, onion, and cow’s milk to mellow the flavor—it’s smooth and warming. Your work, Ethelena-dono?”
”Yup,” Ethelena said, beaming. “Tasty?”
”Very!” Hinagiku-san replied.
Ethelena’s totally charmed, I thought, amused. Getting her mom’s recipe praised clearly delighted her. Living with Hinagiku-san’s a win for her.
”Why can Hinagiku eat this bitter, grassy stuff-degozaru?” Foolish Fox whined.
”They’ve toned down the bitterness as much as possible,” Hinagiku-san countered. “You’ve always hated vegetables, so you can’t taste their charm.”
”It’s just impossible-degozaru…” Foolish Fox mumbled weakly.
Maybe his sharp senses make veggie bitterness overwhelming, I thought. Still, no mercy—he can eat them fine. I noticed Foolish Fox tackled his least favorite foods first. After finishing the BLT sandwich, he moved to the tuna and onion, devouring it quickly since the onion was just a hint. His expression visibly brightened.
”Whoa! The melted cheese stretches!?” Hinagiku-san gasped, tackling the ham and cheese sandwich next, her eyes wide with delight as she ate.
She finished the sandwiches and soup, clasping her hands with a cheerful “Thank you for the meal!” Foolish Fox managed the soup too, likely thanks to the milk softening the tomato’s edge, and echoed her gratitude. Ethelena jotted down notes, tweaking recipes for Foolish Fox’s picky palate.
”I’ll handle cleanup,” I said. “Rest your stomachs. Ethelena, can you let Tatia in when she arrives?”
”Sure thing,” Ethelena replied.
Can’t let them exercise right after eating—they might hurl, I thought. Got to protect their dignity, especially the ladies.
Tatia arrived, and the group started sparring in the yard while I began equipment maintenance. Tatia’s Estoc showed the most wear, reflecting her high attack frequency. Repairing the blade required one iron ingot—it’s probably gotten stronger, I noted. Next was Ethelena’s Lonisera, strained from rapid-fire use.
I cleared Mana dust and repaired a near-burnt circuit, using one Mithril ingot alongside a Mana Stone. Another upgrade, huh? Sure enough, its enhancement level had risen. Tatia’s Aura armor needed attention too—its Artificial Muscle risked crushing the Shape Memory Alloy’s pathways. I carefully cleared the blockages, more numerous than Calmys-san’s Fiero but manageable. The pseudo-wings and flight Spell Formula were fine, so maintenance wrapped up there.
Two hours had passed. I headed to the yard to check on the group.
Tatia and Hinagiku-san were clashing urethane bamboo katanas midair, Tatia absorbing Hinagiku-san’s fluid counters and intricate maneuvers with astonishing speed. Her initially clumsy movements became flawless after a few tries, growing more complex. Hinagiku-san’s wry smile says it all—that’s some talent, I thought.
Ethelena trained with Foolish Fox, who’d spotted her knack for Concealment. He taught her body control optimization without skills.
With her Flight sealed, her movements were already wild, but after learning Stealth Step, her footsteps and rustling grass fell silent. He even taught her cloaking techniques, and I lost sight of her at times. Foolish Fox stood with arms crossed, looking every bit the proud mentor.
”Hey, Yohira,” I called.
”Oh, Tatara,” she said. “Maintenance done?”
”Yup, perfect,” I replied, handing her the repaired Hydrangea armor set. Katanas were off-limits for maintenance.
”Hm… flawless,” she said, inspecting it.
”My specialty,” I said with a grin.
She gave a wry smile. “Don’t be so modest—it’s not your style.”
Guess humility’s not my thing, but I’m not aiming for arrogance either, I thought.
”Joining the training, Tatara?” Yohira asked.
”Nah, I’m hopeless at sparring,” I said.
”Something happen?” she pressed.
”Yeah, Calmys-san thrashed me once,” I admitted. “Told me to run if it’s ever person-to-person combat.”
”That’s… rough,” she said, her voice tinged with sympathy.
I chuckled at her pity, but a chill ran down my spine—an eerie, prickling sensation warning of danger.
”Tatara, what’s wrong?” Yohira asked, sensing my unease.
”Don’t know,” I said. “Bad feeling.”
Her eyes sharpened, scanning the surroundings.
What’s coming? Where?
By chance, I caught it—the torii-shaped teleportation gate pulsing with Mana. Ethelena and Foolish Fox were training nearby. Instinct kicked in. I sprinted over, shoving them aside.
Their shocked faces flashed by as something shot out of the gate—no, launched like a projectile. I caught it, the heavy, dark mass sending me tumbling backward. Clutching it tightly, I rolled across the ground until the momentum stopped. The gate’s Mana reaction faded.
”What the hell was that?” I gasped.
”Tatara! You okay!?” Ethelena shouted, running over, worry etched on her face.
My eyes, idiotically, followed her bouncing figure through her tracksuit. Focus, moron, I scolded myself.
”Body’s sore, but no major injuries,” I said. Probably just bruises from the impact and scrapes from the roll.
”What’s that you’re holding?” Yohira asked, her voice cold, almost sulky, with a hint of disdain.
I looked down. It was a doll—or rather, a girl resembling one.
Her black hair, neatly trimmed to her shoulders, had an artificial sheen, and her pale skin reflected light like hard plastic. A fist-sized hole gaped in her chest, yet she breathed faintly. Her delicate frame was clad in tight, rubber-like clothing.
Machine Maiden, I thought. A being born from the Mechanical God, a divine race crafted by the primal machines of the gods. Only females existed in this race, capable of bonding with humans. They could merge with any machine or magic tool, explosively boosting its performance—a half-machine, half-organic lifeform.
Notes:
• Calmys – War God’s knight, Mayor’s guard chief, whip-master hiding as a swordswoman; sharp tongue, big-sister vibe to Tatara, grants him and Ethelena church protection.
• Dalma – A massive, rugged Explorer with a burly frame and a presence that overshadows others, long considered a battle comrade of Rogas, Calmys, and the mayor. Straightforward and loyal, his trademark is entrusting everything to his allies—“makaseru otoko,” the kind who leaves even the forging of his great axe entirely to Tatara’s hands.
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
• Ichige – Fox youkai ninja who sneaks into the city illegally. Captured after Hinagiku and Julon subdue her during an immigration clash caused by her infiltration. Serves Torakuma clan but disobeys orders. Calls Julon “Master.” Clumsy and childish.
• Hinagiku – Karasu Tengu warrior appearing during Julon’s test battle. Fights him under Acting Head’s orders to gauge his skill. Later assists in arresting Ichige. Serves Torakuma clan. Allies with Julon. Fastest Tengu, proud but fair.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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