Chapter 208: Chapter 208: I Only Have One Disciple

Chapter 208: I Only Have One Disciple

“Sayu’s not a tanuki!!”

Wrapped in a swirl of green wind, the small ninja launched through the air like a spinning top. Her body blurred, compressed into a streak of motion powered by centrifugal force—and the massive Debate Club she carried smashed down with all that momentum, striking the Kairagi’s head dead-on.

The impact cracked like thunder. It was over in an instant.

The cursed swordsman didn’t even get the chance to react. The moment the club landed, the Kairagi slumped over like a puppet with its strings cut.

If it had been anyone else, they might’ve passed out mid-spin or crashed into the ground from sheer nausea. But Sayu? She’d been through this routine too many times. Her head was still spinning, sure—but she could walk it off.

Or more accurately—she’d sleep it off.

She wobbled slightly on the landing, blinking in two directions at once.

But her work was done.

“Sensei—!” Teppei’s voice cracked as he staggered toward the familiar red silhouette standing ahead. Despite the pain still burning in his shoulder, seeing Bai Luo here now made him feel like he could take on anything.

“I never agreed to take you as my disciple. Don’t call me that,” Bai Luo replied flatly.

He didn’t even look in Teppei’s direction as he sliced down a charging Nobushi in one clean motion, the body collapsing behind him with a dull thud.

That wasn’t mockery. Just a correction.

Sure, he did have a disciple. But it definitely wasn’t Teppei.

Still, as he turned slightly, his gaze flicked toward the sword in Teppei’s left hand. His expression shifted.

“…That looks familiar.”

Too familiar.

It wasn’t just resemblance—it was recognition.

Bai Luo remembered that sword. The hilt, the slight bend in the blade, the weight behind it.

It was the same prototype that had nearly taken his head off during the trial space long ago.

The Hakuen Michimitsu Amenoma. The real one.

Time had worn it down. The scabbard and tsuba had been swapped out, and countless repairs had dulled the original shine. But the soul of the weapon—the part that mattered—was still intact.

And Bai Luo? He never forgot things that almost killed him.

He stared at it with narrowed eyes.

Teppei noticed and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Ah… yeah. Long story.”

He didn’t seem bothered, even after the usual rebuke. Somewhere deep down, he had already accepted Bai Luo as his teacher—formal or not.

. . . .

With Sayu and Bai Luo fighting together, the battlefield shifted quickly. The rest of the Nobushi fell into chaos.

Their leader was already down, and none of them had the courage to face the two newcomers head-on.

In less than a minute, the survivors had turned tail and run, leaving their wounded behind.

Sayu, still swaying slightly from her spinning assault, trotted over to Bai Luo’s side and tugged on the hem of his red cloak. Then she turned, head tilted, and wordlessly offered him the back of her neck.

Bai Luo stared for a second.

“Walk on your own,” he muttered, rapping her lightly on the head with his scabbard. “I’ve been carrying you all day. My arm’s sore.”

Sayu frowned, pouting silently as she crossed her arms.

“Stingy…” she mumbled—and within seconds, her tiny form tilted backward and started snoring right there, standing up.

Teppei finally caught up to them, breathing heavily but still standing. His right arm hung limp, and though he tried to hide it, the pain in his shoulder showed in the way he moved.

“Himura-san… were you able to finish your business?” he asked.

His voice was quiet. Embarrassed. He was ashamed of getting wounded—especially by Nobushi. They were hardly a real threat.

For a student of the Battousai, it was disgraceful.

Bai Luo gave him a flat look. “Yeah. Just finished. Good timing, too. Someone was about to be diced up and turned into a Tatarigami dumpling.”

He glanced pointedly at the medicine satchel still slung over Teppei’s back.

He didn’t need to ask why the kid had come out here. The answer was obvious.

Don’t forget—Bai Luo had spent days gathering herbs with Qiqi in Liyue. He could recognize medicinal ingredients with a glance.

Sweet Flowers. Mint. Horsetail. Even the rare Sakura Bloom tucked in one corner.

This was a field medic’s pouch.

The world is strange, though.

Collei, his actual disciple, was naturally gifted at combat—yet had gone to study medicine in Sumeru.

Teppei, who clearly had a knack for healing, insisted on learning how to fight.

“Come on. I’ll carry that for you,” Bai Luo said, gesturing to the satchel.

He didn’t mention the shoulder injury. If Teppei wanted to act tough, that was fine. No need to call him out on it.

Teppei hesitated—but then nodded, handing it over.

With Sayu slung under one arm and the satchel over his shoulder, Bai Luo started walking toward the Resistance base. Teppei followed beside him, slower now but with no intention of complaining.

After a while, Bai Luo spoke up.

“That sword at your waist… can I take a look?”

The question had been bothering him for a while now. He couldn’t let it go.

Teppei nodded and handed the blade over without a second thought.

“Is it a replica of the Hakuen Michimitsu Amenoma?” Bai Luo asked, drawing the blade with a metallic shing.

He studied it carefully. It was nearly identical to the one he remembered from the trial space.

The edge. The weight. The way the balance shifted near the guard.

It had been modified slightly. The scabbard was new. The tsuba had a different design.

But it was the real deal.

“No,” Teppei said quietly. “It’s the real one. Given to me by a senior named Iwakura Hikaru.”

His expression dimmed as he spoke, and he explained how he met the one-eyed man, how the sword had passed into his hands.

Bai Luo listened in silence.

So that was it.

That explained everything.

He’d always wondered why, in the game, the Hakuen Michimitsu Amenoma could be found rusting away beneath a waterfall in Enkanomiya.

Now it made sense.

Either Iwakura Hikaru had wandered there accidentally… or someone had made sure he’d never come back.

In any case, the fact that the blade had ended up with Teppei was a better fate than being forgotten.

Better in his hands than buried under a cascade forever.

. . . . . .

Rain still fell in a steady drizzle, soaking into the dirt paths around the Resistance camp and leaving small puddles at every uneven dip in the ground.

Visibility was poor. The gray sky blended with the mist that clung to the hills, and the sound of water tapping against tents and armor filled the air like a second heartbeat.

But even through the downpour, it was clear—security around the camp had been tightened.

Where there had once been two guards stationed at the outer perimeter, now there were six. Even more could be seen walking patrols along the inner fences or quietly watching from elevated positions with bows at the ready. Those were just the visible ones. Hidden sentries were almost certainly scattered through the forest beyond, watching for any movement on the road.

Tensions between the Resistance and the Shogunate had reached a boiling point.

War felt less like a possibility now and more like an inevitability.

To make things worse, word had spread that the Kujou Encampment had appointed a new general to lead its troops. According to the latest reports, she was far more formidable than the previous one—Kujou Masahito.

No one could say for certain whether she would use direct force, spies, or assassins.

So Gorou had tightened security on every front. More guards. More patrols. More background checks.

And conveniently—or maybe suspiciously—one of the guards posted near the front gate just so happened to be Nathan.

For someone whose job required secrecy, it was almost too perfect a cover.

Watching him stand by the gate, nodding politely at passing officers, you’d never guess anything was off. He looked relaxed, alert but casual, with a friendly smile and that same “outsider” charm that came from being a Mondstadt native in a foreign land.

But the fact that he was stationed so close to the main entrance and yet excluded from all high-level meetings spoke volumes.

Clearly, the Resistance was beginning to suspect him.

To Nathan’s credit, he didn’t let anything slip. When Bai Luo and the others passed by, he simply watched with mild curiosity, offering a respectful nod but nothing more. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t show any particular interest in Bai Luo’s title or Sayu’s arrival.

And honestly, that worked in his favor. As someone from Mondstadt, it made sense that he wouldn’t be familiar with the weight of Inazuma’s sword styles or care about the rumors surrounding the Battousai.

Still, the timing was a little too convenient.

Soon after Bai Luo’s group entered the camp, General Gorou emerged to greet them.

His uniform was soaked at the shoulders, and his fur collar drooped slightly from the rain. Compared to the last time they’d seen him, he looked visibly more exhausted. Dark circles sat beneath his eyes, and though his posture remained firm, there was tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before.

None of it was surprising. Leading a scattered resistance force against a well-supplied Shogunate was hard enough. Doing it while constantly watching for spies and traitors within your own ranks? That would drain anyone.

The only thing keeping Gorou going at this point might’ve been the Geo Vision on his belt.

He stopped in front of Bai Luo and gave a sharp bow. “Welcome back. This is…?”

His gaze shifted to the small girl standing beside him—Sayu, who had finally woken from her nap and was now looking around blearily.

She blinked once, then again.

A second later, her eyes snapped wide open as her brain caught up with her surroundings.

’Wait… I’m—this is… the Resistance’s main camp?!’

. . . . .

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