Spirit Game

"Agenda?" Izumi echoed, a knowing smirk curling his lips. He was no fool; he'd been around long enough to understand the ways of the world, so he had expected this outcome.

Rain hesitated, thrown off by Izumi's calm demeanor. But he quickly reminded himself that he held the upper hand, and there was nothing to fear.

"As you can see, the vial works. But one vial can only cure thousands of your clansmen. To heal everyone, you'll need hundreds of thousands of these. I can provide enough to cure your entire clan and put an end to the curse so your future generations will be safe. However, in return, you must do something for me."

Izumi paused, considering Rain's words. Then, unexpectedly, he burst into laughter. It echoed through the room, a sound that seemed foreign to the somber halls of his castle.

"I like you, kid! Come, state your demands! If you want me to serve you, just say it!"

"E-egh? S-serve me?!" Rain was taken aback, but he quickly fought the urge to be swayed by Izumi's offer. As tempting as it sounded, there were more pressing matters at hand.

Besides, servitude didn't guarantee loyalty. Troops stronger than their lord tended to be aggressive and disobedient.

Rain didn't want a volatile, powerful force that he couldn't control. It would only bring unnecessary trouble.

Rain slapped his cheeks lightly to refocus himself. "The thing is . . . Druger and the others are planning a rebellion."

"Rebellion?" Izumi furrowed his brow in thought. "But I haven't caused anything to warrant such a thing from the citizens here."

". . . Come again?"

"We merely established this castle as a temporary stronghold. I instructed my soldiers to leave the townsfolk alone and not interfere in their daily activities, as we have more pressing matters to attend to.

"I don't intend to rule over this place; we'll return to our home in the ocean once we find what we seek."

"W-what? Then what about the high taxes? The oppression of the citizens?"

"High taxes? We have no need for taxes; we are very rich. Our clan alone controls around 1/3 of the ocean. So we don't need silly things such as taxes.

"As for the oppression . . ." Izumi's tentacles rippled, releasing bubbles. "Some of the Ebizos, led by my foolish son, may have been involved. I've disciplined them severely. Please forgive me; my son is still young."

"Young?" Rain didn't believe that one bit. "You mean like less than a hundred years old young?"

"No, young as in exactly nine Spirit Realm years young."

". . ."

". . ."

T-that thing is still nine?! Rain shouted in his head, imagining Izu's appearance.

Rain was so surprised that he was startled out of his skin. "But he's huge! And he has many mistresses!"

Izumi massaged his temples and released a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry about that. Izu was still in his egg when I brought him to the surface. He's the only son I have left who hasn't turned to stone. Out of a misguided sense of motherly love, he sought it through the women here. Don't worry; those women were more like his mothers than lovers."

N-no, that's not the point here . . . Rain thought.

"W-wait a minute . . ." He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. Upon reflection, he realized he had never witnessed an Ebizo soldier oppressing a citizen, except for Izumi's son.

"Then the taxes? The ones plunging the citizens into despair and poverty?"

Lord Izumi thought for a moment. "I suppose some of the merchants and the citizens here took advantage of the situation and lined their pockets."

"I . . . I see . . ." Rain could only reply, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

"But you're still responsible. If you hadn't come here and claimed the town, the townsfolk wouldn't have had to relive their past traumas. And because of your indifference, greedy citizens and merchants took advantage, raising taxes in your name."

Instead of becoming defensive, Izumi nodded solemnly, accepting his fault. "You're right. We came here and imposed our dominion over the poor citizens without considering their feelings or the consequences of our actions."

"But fear not," he continued, his voice steady and resolute, "now that we have what we sought, we will depart from this place immediately."

"NO!" Rain's outburst surprised Izumi.

Gritting his teeth, Rain stood up firmly. "You can't just leave, not after you've inflicted so much suffering on these people. You can't leave them, shattered and broken, living in constant fear of another attack."

Lord Izumi's surprise turned to seriousness. "Then . . . what do you want me to do?"

". . . I want you to restore their confidence and pride. At the very least, you owe them that much."

Izumi stood there, initially taken aback by Rain's boldness. The young man before him, though seemingly inexperienced, exuded a sense of moral clarity and empathy that struck a chord within his hardened heart.

As Rain spoke passionately about the plight of the townspeople and their need for restoration, Izumi found himself reassessing his initial impression of this outsider.

The room was quiet, save for the echoes of Rain's words hanging in the air.

Izumi looked into Rain's eyes and saw not just a concerned individual, but a leader emerging from the shadows of doubt and fear. He could sense the genuineness in Rain's voice and the strength of his heart.

"You can't just abandon them like this," Rain insisted, his voice steady yet brimming with sincerity. "You owe them more than that."

Izumi's gaze softened as he listened, a newfound respect blossoming within him. Here stood someone who had been trembling on his knees in fear, yet cared so deeply for others that he dared to confront him.

The boy's courage, rooted not in defiance but in a genuine desire to save the townsfolk, stirred something deep within Izumi. This young man, with his unwavering determination and compassion, was unlike any he had encountered before.

For a moment, Izumi saw beyond the immediate demands of his clan's survival. He saw the potential for reconciliation and redemption, not just for the townspeople but also for himself and his clan.

Rain's plea resonated with him, reminding him of the honor and dignity that should accompany power and authority.

"Very well . . . state your demands."