The court lackeys of the eight-hour workday

Chapter 602: Yata Mirror

Tick, tick, tick.

A thick, slightly warm liquid dripped onto Nanako's forehead, waking her from her unconsciousness. She didn't immediately open her eyes, but continued to pretend to be unconscious, carefully listening to the sounds around her.

The smell of rust instantly filled my nostrils.

"Blood... a lot of blood..."

Having traveled with Li Miao for several months, Nanako had become quite worldly-wise. She immediately recognized the source of the rusty smell and also knew what the liquid dripping on her forehead was.

That was blood that was still warm from body heat.

Aside from the dripping sound of blood and Nanako's own breathing, there was the crackling of burning wood and the acrid smell of burning grease.

The firelight flickered on my eyelids.

"An abandoned fire site littered with corpses...?"

Nanako forcefully suppressed her inner fear and remained motionless.

But her disguise was too naive and clumsy, and her rapid heartbeat and breathing were difficult to suppress. It was clearly visible to someone who had practiced auditory skills.

Then someone said...

"Your Highness, there's no need to pretend."

"We don't mean any harm."

Nanako was puzzled.

us?

She slightly opened her eyelids and looked around.

Just as she had imagined, the surroundings were indeed a burning site filled with corpses. The surrounding wooden buildings were burning fiercely, and the place where she was standing had been burned, full of black ash, with a considerable portion of it still showing clear human outlines.

She was in a space formed by overlapping collapsed buildings, and she was lying on the ground in one of the corners.

Tick.

Another drop of warm liquid fell onto her forehead.

Nanako was taken aback at first, then looked in the direction where the blood was dripping.

She first saw a hand hovering above her forehead, and blood was dripping from the index finger of that hand.

Following the finger upwards, one can see the scarred arms, the broken collarbone, the katana that pierced the skull and pinned it to the ruins, and finally the entire corpse comes into view.

The corpse appeared to be just an ordinary corpse.

Remove the clothes he was wearing.

It was a dark robe, with a white silk undershirt stained red with blood underneath, and white outer and lower hakama. A black tasseled crown was worn on the head that had been pierced by a katana.

"The...Emperor?"

Nanako slowly opened her eyes wide.

Although the robes of the Japanese emperor were not as elaborate and gorgeous as those of the emperors of the Central Plains, and could even be described as somewhat simple, how could Nanako, who grew up in Kyoto, not recognize these clothes?

But... why the Emperor?
Wasn't I kidnapped by Shinto priests? Why am I in a fire full of corpses? Where am I? Who are the charred corpses around me? Why is the Emperor nailed to my head?

Before she could even sort out her thoughts, she suddenly heard the voice that had told her to open her eyes scoff disdainfully.

"Your Highness, he is not the Emperor."

"He doesn't deserve it."

Nanako looked in the direction of the sound and saw a middle-aged priest leaning against a collapsed roof beam. He was dressed in the same plain white priest's robes as the priests who had kidnapped her before, and he also had a scarlet tsuba (sword) without a guard at his waist.

Unlike them, this middle-aged swordsman was not wearing a mask. He casually hung a plain white mask around his waist and was using a strip of cloth to wrap the bleeding wound on his waist.

"Well!"

He yanked the bandage off abruptly, letting out a muffled groan, and finally finished bandaging his wound. Only then did he turn to look at Nanako, who was slowly getting up.

"Your Highness."

Nanako remained silent for a while.

"You're not a Shintoist?"

"No."

"Did you kill the Emperor?"

"Yes."

"...Why do you call me Your Highness?"

The middle-aged swordsman didn't answer immediately, but seemed pleasantly surprised by Nanako's composure, and couldn't help but laugh. "As expected of Your Highness."

Nanako slowly shook her head.

"Don't call me Your Highness... Who are you, what do you want, and where is this place?"

The middle-aged swordsman still didn't answer, but turned to look outside the ruins and said in a low voice.

"Your Highness, please wait a moment."

Although Nanako didn't know what the middle-aged swordsman wanted to do, she knew she had no way to resist, so she groped her way away from the emperor's corpse and found a place to sit down.

Seeing Nanako's calm demeanor and actions, the middle-aged swordsman's smile grew even brighter.

Nanako pursed her lips imperceptibly.

She didn't like the middle-aged swordsman's gaze.

That gaze didn't seem like it was looking at a person at all... it was more like it was looking at a satisfactory idol, with a look that, besides piety, also carried an uncomfortable scrutiny and fanaticism.

After a while, the middle-aged swordsman suddenly gripped the hilt of his knife.

At the same time, a series of footsteps suddenly came from outside the ruins, and dozens of figures dressed in plain white priest robes came from all directions.

These people resembled middle-aged swordsmen, dressed and carrying swords like Shinto priests, but they all removed their plain white masks and hung them on their waists. They were all wounded, and some of their injuries were clearly fatal, causing them to stagger.

But these people paid no attention to their own injuries. Instead, they all focused their gazes on Nanako, their eyes filled with the same fanaticism and scrutiny.

They met up with the middle-aged swordsman.

"Has it been dealt with?"

"Ah."

"Are you sure? There can't be any mistakes."

"They've all been finished off... The bloodline of the false emperor and the priests of the Shinto Church have all been confirmed dead."

The middle-aged swordsman breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's good... Where's the stuff?"

One of the swordsmen reached into his robes, pulled out a cloth bag, and handed it to him.

The middle-aged swordsman took the cloth bag with both hands, and reverently and slowly opened it, revealing its contents.

Nanako subtly cast her gaze in that direction.

The cloth bag was opened, revealing a bronze mirror.

It appears to be made of bronze, covered in verdigris due to its age, with a mottled, mirror-like surface that reflects images in a blurry and distorted manner. The four sides are adorned with simple, ancient carvings.

The middle-aged swordsman stroked the mirror with a fascination, his movements as gentle as if he were caressing a woman's skin. After gently wiping away the dust, he suddenly turned to look at Nanako.

"Your Highness..."

His voice was drawn out with excitement and piety, and the end of his voice trembled, sounding like the low murmur of a madman.

"Your Highness, Your Highness..."

The countless swordsmen dressed in priestly robes around her also looked at Nanako with excitement and began to murmur.

The middle-aged swordsman slowly walked towards Nanako.

Nanako pursed her lips, forcibly suppressing the fear welling up inside her.

"Your Highness..."

The middle-aged swordsman walked up to her, staring at her with fervor, and suddenly knelt down on one knee, trembling as he grabbed her hand.

Nanako couldn't help but struggle.

"Let go! Let go!"

But the middle-aged swordsman ignored him, and suddenly stretched out a finger, cut Nanako's fingertip, and frantically and violently pulled it to the top of the bronze mirror.

Nanako finally saw the mirror clearly.

Three indistinct inscriptions are faintly visible among the carvings above the mirror.

She seemed to have heard her father say those three words before.

Yata no Kagami (Eight-Span Mirror).

Tick.

Blood dripped onto the mirror, making a crisp sound.

(End of this chapter)