Steel Trim
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Engineering, Magic, and Kitsune Ch. 58
🕑 Added 2025-12-10 06:40:44 +0000 UTCThe walk back to the fort was awkward this time, although John supposed that was to be expected when he Shanghai'd someone on impulse. In retrospect, maybe he could have handled that better, but he was committed now. Getting him killed by his fellows was not an option.
Their captive kept his eyes on the pair the entire way as John and Yuki led him through the underbrush. He’d given them a weird look when they suddenly veered off the path into the brush. It wasn't like they were trying to appear overly dignified or anything, and cutting through the woods just made sense to remain safe. Thankfully, they didn't have to deal with anything jumping out to try to kill them, although John's heart was pounding the entire time they were heading back to the fort.
He couldn't believe it was that easy. That was it? Those were the people he had been afraid of for half a damned decade? The banality of their pointless 'reasons', of how spineless they all were, boiled his blood. If only Iwao weren't such a greedy, irresponsible—
Well, at least his petty revenge brought a smile to his face. He wondered what their faces looked like after they discovered what he had done, and a warm feeling bloomed in his chest.
He wasn't cruel, though. He left a single hammer unglued outside one of the doors so they could break into their own houses, once they finished cutting one another free. He might have melted the rope together just a little bit before freeing the hands of the last one and handing him a knife. Lanky bastard looked like he was about to soil himself when John came near him with a knife, though.
John probably shouldn't have found that so funny, but he would do it again in a heartbeat, and play it up more the second time around, too. Maybe he should start practicing his evil laugh, in case he had an opportunity to menace the priests again.
He glanced forward at the priest, who was walking between him and Yuki. Thankfully, the man's thick, well-maintained clothing wasn't entirely soaked through by the rain, despite the continued drizzle, so John didn't have to heat him to stop hypothermia from setting in.
The priest in captivity nervously looked over his shoulder at John, their eyes meeting before the man whipped his head back around and straightened like a child caught texting by a strict teacher.
Still, the sudden movement made John's hand twitch, although not nearly as much as it might have earlier today.
Soon enough, they rounded the corner, and the comforting wall dominated their vision. At the top of the gate stood Yosuke, who offered them a lazy bow. John offered him a wave in return as his muscles uncoiled.
"Anything of note to report?" Yuki called up to him, not even breaking her stride as she approached the gate.
Thinking a moment, the quasi-zombie eventually shook his head. It was a shame John didn't know ASL; the undead would probably appreciate learning it. Then, he turned around and hopped down, heading to unlatch the door.
"The tax collector's undead, here?" Takuto muttered, although not quietly enough to escape a well-trained ear.
"Yosuke is here, yes," John clarified, perhaps a bit more harshly than needed. "They were being awful to him, so he decided to come with us instead when we offered."
"O-of course, Lord Hall," the man clarified, dipping his head. "I meant no offence."
"You do have a habit of picking up strays, now that I think about it," Yuki commented, a faint smile flickering on her face.
"What do you mean by that… Lady Yuki?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her, noticing the way her ears flicked when he called her that.
"If someone has been stepped on or used by society, they get pulled to you like a lodestone," she replied casually. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you have a technique just for that."
John opened his mouth to reply, only to stall as he went over his list of friends and allies. Yuki was used to rob a man and got off scot-free, turning her against the world's "natural" order. Aiki and Haru were chased to his doorstep by tax collectors who might as well have been overgrown mosquitoes. Rin had something going on with her being used as a fire-and-forget weapon, at least once by her family, and then again by Kiku. Yosuke's enslavement was obvious.
"It's not the worst thing," he finally conceded. "It seems to have found me pretty good company so far."
Yosuke swung the door open and bowed one last time before heading back up to the wall, using that unfair vertical leap that seemed to come with being an Unbound, and made him question the effectiveness of the walls to begin with.
The three marched in, but John noted Yosuke didn't even take a second glance at their new addition, either trusting them entirely or just not caring that they were hauling back another… quasi-prisoner? He was here for his own good despite John's intentions to squeeze him for information, granted, but they couldn't exactly trust him, given where he came from.
He'd probably have to be locked up sometimes, of course, but if they were going to keep taking random prisoners, John should probably build a place to hold them properly. He never thought he'd add a jail to his list of renovations, though. How would he even make one secure when the average person had some degree of magical capability?
Well, without rigging the place to blow if they tried to leave, at least. Maybe some sort of upjumped house arrest style tracker that would be too dangerous or difficult to remove without the key? It could even have an immobilizing function, like a telekinetic grip to lock them in place—
Wait, no! That'd be like a magical bomb collar; he wouldn't make that!
Shaking himself of his fugue, he glanced over to the picnic table where he and Yuki once shared language lessons, before discarding that possibility. No, the rain would ruin any paper in short order. Inside it was.
"Are you going to want to sit in?" he asked Yuki. "I think we'll be using the meeting room to go over some things."
She shook her head. "No. I'll be cleaning myself up in the baths," she stated, looking at the dirt and grime clinging to her fur in places that he swore weren't there before. "I will be stopping by later, though."
She had never cared that much before—
He looked at their captive and noticed how his gaze kept trailing towards Yuki before he forced himself to look away, afraid to be caught staring, even as she turned to walk away.
Ah. It was a plot to make Takuto relax. Besides, given her supernatural hearing and how close by the room was, she was certainly going to hear everything anyway.
"Alright, I'll see you later, Yuki!" he said, waving goodbye to his kitsune friend as she sauntered off, giving a little tail flick in response.
Their captive priest hurriedly bowed as she left, but said nothing until the kitsune disappeared into the building, whereupon he finally rose, although no tension left his shoulders. "I am at your service, Lord Hall," he said, respectfully dipping his head once more.
Laying it on thick, wasn't he? Still, although John was no expert at reading people, even he could see how the man's shoulders bunched up and how he held his back ramrod straight. The priest was genuinely terrified and tense, and hopefully that gave him plenty of reason not to try to sabotage John's efforts.
"Come along now," John said, gesturing to the door as he passed the man, a shiver going up his spine as he exposed his back to what his instincts screamed was a threat. Yet, there was no way for the man to hurt him. Even if he pulled a knife and charged him, his warding could take the blows for quite some time without complaint. The biggest threat would be getting pinned, but Yuki would hear the struggle and come to his rescue in short order.
"Of course, Lord Hall!" the man responded, trailing close behind John as he led him inside, to the very same room that had previously hosted his meeting with the local militia not too long ago.
Takuto's head was on a pivot the whole way through the inner workings of the fort as he tried his best to hide how much he was looking around at the rooms, glancing into John’s mudroom and his kitchen, almost like he was looking for some secret truth about the man.
Thankfully, it wasn't as if the building was large, so Takuto didn't get to look around for long as John led him into the room, settling on the far side of the table with his back to the wall.
"Please, take a seat," John said, gesturing to the empty chair.
The priest looked at it uneasily, sliding it out before resting uncomfortably on the stool, carefully trying his best to mirror John, as if he was worried about upsetting some sort of unsaid social more.
"So, you know about the Nameless hiding in the woods and what they can do, yes?" John began, waiting for the man to nod hesitantly. "Have you ever seen them work?"
The man's lips pulled tight, and he finally shook his head, looking away. "Never, Lord Hall," he said.
"I've seen it. Too many times. It… isn't pretty," John muttered, eyes glazing over as he stared through the wall into a distant horizon only he could see.
Countless twitching legs.
Terrified eyes.
Muffled begging.
The smell…
The shadowy mass compressing itself as a sibling pried his mouth open—He had to stop thinking about it, or at least had to keep going. Lingering would do him no good.
"They hollow out people from the inside, you know? While they're still alive, I mean. It's kinda hard to tell at which point they stop being alive after they crawl down their throat, given that all the spiders start taking over their muscles and organs' jobs for them. Moving their limbs. Their face. Breathing by pulling and pushing on their ribs. They don't seem to go for the brain first, you see? Maybe they never go for it. Maybe you just get… stuck in your own body, unable to feel anything other than their writhing as they puppet you. With any luck, there's not enough nerves left for you to feel pain…" John rambled, biting his lip as he caught his rambling before he went too far. Still, he couldn't resist at least adding one last little detail at the end as his intrusive thoughts bubbled forth. "But maybe that'd be worse. Pain would at least let you feel something, anchor you to the world, even if it's through agony. I don't know what I'd prefer, honestly."
Takuto looked at his lap, and his jaw set as he paled, sweat beading on his brow. A quiet gag came from him, although he cut it off short before he got sick.
"I'm sorry, Lord Hall, I don't know what came over me," the man hurriedly apologized, dipping his head in a show of deference that was honestly starting to get old, fast.
How much should he tell him? Obviously, John wasn't letting him leave until the ongoing issue with Kiku and the spiders was resolved, even if it meant placing more strain on their food supplies.
"Enough. I don't care about formality," John noted as casually as possible, hoping to put the man at ease. "We are here to solve a problem. Head Priest Iwao has placed Ofuda around the area that prevent my allies from operating at full capacity. Has he mentioned anything about learning how to make anything new recently? Maybe he has asked you or your fellows to scout out certain spots."
The man held his tongue, the silence weighing heavily in the air as he looked past John. "And people can't just take them down?" he lowly asked, blinking owlishly.
"It's not blocking particular buildings. It's blocking off the whole town," John hissed.
Takuto took a few seconds to register the words, but once he did, his jaw dropped and hung slack, eyes widening into dinner saucers.
"This isn't for me. The 'kitsune' Iwao met was a rogue nogitsune, and she has power over minds, Takuto. She has control over the Nameless. She has spoken with Iwao and had time alone with him while teaching him this charm. Even if he doesn't seem to be, he has been compromised. If she plans to use the Nameless as an army, putting up these defences would let her blunt our interference with their bloody harvest of coin and corpses as they build their numbers… But you can help us. You can save all those people. Please, do the right thing."
Takuto balled his fists tightly, taking a sharp breath, but said nothing.
John gave him all the time he needed to decide, awaiting a response in the overwhelming silence of the room. Reaching down, he drew a brush, ink, and paper from the drawer; something he had begun keeping here since nobody else seemed comfortable with a proper pen.
"I don't know where he was going," the man sullenly admitted, eyes cast down toward the table. "I'm sorry, Lord Hall, I don't know anything about the Ofuda."
John stared into the man, searching for any sign of deceit, before sighing.
"Alright, that's fine," John calmly stated, the man across from him suddenly looking up, an expression that reminded him of a startled deer on his face.
If he was lying, John couldn't tell, and if he were telling the truth, pressing him would just cause the man to shut down and be useless. "I have other ways you can help." Silently, he slid the paper and writing implements across the table. "What type of Ofuda can you produce?"
"Not many, I was only allowed to start making them earlier this year," the man admitted with a deep frown. "I know how to make basic repelling charms to deter weak spirits and vermin in case you will be away from your home, ones that provide minor good fortune, and ones that help stop ants from getting into your food. Oh! I can also make onamori for safe travels!"
Onamori, onamori… the term seemed familiar. Perhaps he had read about them before?
Right, they were the little pouches with charms in them! He had seen some of them a few times in the ruins of carts! He had always opened the little woven pouches to see what was inside, hoping for something like medicine, but was always disappointed by a little scrap of paper.
Perhaps some of them worked, and the owners were safely ferried to their destination through the spider hell-woods. The ones he had found did not, and he only hoped their ends were quick and merciful.
Quietly, John pushed the paper and writing implements over to the man, leaving a few sheets and a proper pen for himself. "I would like you to make some and explain the process as you do. It will help."
For a second, John considered getting the good ink and paper that Yuki found, but that would be a last resort. No, ideally, the man would produce a few sheets, and then John would figure out a way to create them himself. Sure, Yuki could, in theory, teach him, but what if practices changed over the millennia and there was some critical step in the creation of charms that led to a different magical signature than what she was used to?
"How? These aren't very high-quality inks and paper. The ofuda aren't going to be very strong," the man curiously asked.
John remained silent as the man began to sweat once more, dipping his head.
"I spoke out of turn; it wasn't my place," the man demurely responded.
Yeah, there was no way in hell that he was going to share anything of his technology, even a little ancillary detail like that, with one of the priests.
"Please proceed," John said, gesturing to the sheet, readying his pen.
Without further ado, the priest folded the paper neatly into eight even sections. "Normally, I'd cut it into sheets now, but I don't have a knife, and it can be done after. You have to get the brush strokes just right… You have to be in the right state of mind, too. This one needs you to praise Hachiman without words as you work, but you need to contemplate a sunset, too."
John's pen worked feverishly as he noted down each answer in turn, pulling out his magic detector and placing it on the table, pointed vaguely toward the man. He looked at it, perturbed, but John waved off his concern. "The demon eye was just a recording device," he admitted. "Proceed."
Now a bit more perturbed, the man looked back down, slowly writing out several characters in sequence, reading "Oh mighty Hachiman, this servant beseeches you to protect this home from spirits."
There was something odd about the characters, though. The line width struck John first; it wasn't quite like what he was used to with those characters. The character for "mighty," for instance, was a lot more bottom-heavy than it should be. At first, he thought to blame Takuto's penmanship, but it was clearly intentional. The man's hand was rock steady as he worked, a look of absolute concentration on his face as he hyperfixated on his task alone.
Still, it seemed so familiar…
Why?
The spacing of the text was strange: each character was at a set distance, the priest taking several moments to make absolutely sure where he wanted to place his brush before setting it down.
Soon enough, Takuto was done writing the text, and the man started dotting ink in patterns at the top. In fact, they almost looked like—
Click chimed the magic detector as the man withdrew his brush.
They almost looked like a drawing of a magic collector array from one of his first gauntlets, a simple filter of wood.
Comments
Unwillingmainer
So the locals have their own methods for using magic with items. But it sounds like they are coming at it from a very different angle but using similar methods. Maybe something that was first taught to them by the yokai or spirits? Maybe one of the old ones has a very good idea of how enchanting works? Interesting stuff.
Trevyn Lane
Interesting... so John's artificy and the priest's anti-yokai magic is related...
Venno Unthammer
Shape of All Things?
K
Ooooh. Interesting. I wonder if the wording is important like they think it is? Maybe thinking of imagery and the shape of the lines while making these breaks the magic system behind the world(I forget it's name but it's the one that teaches people language) is 'forced' to fill in the blanks?
