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yatagarasuhonyaku · 1 month ago

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The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Chapter 1 "Shigemaru" Part 2

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.

Blog version

For the Index, you can find it HERE

Previously: Shigemaru (Part 1)

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Chapter 1: Shigemaru (Part 2)

“Hey, wake up you idiot! The bell rang a long time ago!”

The next morning, Ichiryuu’s angry yelling shook Shigemaru back to the waking world. Ichiryuu had even taken his futon away. Shigemaru blinked, dazzled by the sudden brightness.

“Good morning……”

“You have some guts to loaf around when your seniors are already up and about, you hopeless baby! Get yourself ready, we have to go to breakfast.”

Ichiryuu had the distinctive look of someone who was enjoying himself a lot. His speech now over, he promptly left the room. Shigemaru rubbed his eyes, taking in his surroundings. The futon beside his own was already folded and Yukiya, who had ditched the nightwear for his feather robe, was sitting all proper at his bedside.

“Good morning, Shige.”

“Ah, good morning. You sure are an early bird.”

“No, just a very light sleeper, that's all. The morning bell woke me up instantly,” Yukiya laughed and offered him a wet towel to clean his face. “Apparently, breakfast today will be earlier than normal because of the entrance ceremony. We better hurry.”

“Oh, yes! Let's go.”

They all went and had their breakfast. Afterwards, the seniors, including Ichiryuu, left the Seeds behind in the dining hall. They had been instructed to remain there, standing in a line according to their height.

It took a while, but finally an administrative officer walked into the hall at a brisk pace. “The preparations are done. Stay in line and follow me, no dillydallying and no talking!”

The man first stood in front of them, and then started to walk out of the room. Following the instruction, Yukiya, who was first, immediately followed him with the rest of the trainees right behind. The administrative officer guided them towards the massive hall Ichiryuu had shown them the day before.

At last, it was time for their entrance ceremony.

The Saplings and Evergreens were already there, standing in rows at both sides of the room—leaving enough space for the Seeds in the middle. A group of older men, most likely their instructors, also waited in a line close to the seat of honor by the altar. Every single person in the room was dressed in strikingly similar feather robes. A true sea of black, the monotony only broken by the many colors of the instructors’ sashes.

The ceremony started with a salute to Yamagami's altar. The seniors quickly bowed on command, followed by the newcomers’ panicked attempt at imitating them. In comparison to the former’s perfect synchronization, clearly borne of habit, the latter were in complete disarray.

Once that was done, one of the instructors finally welcomed them to the Unbending Reed Monastery, the purported main purpose of the event. It didn’t last long, however, as his speech soon moved on to a variety of general advice, rules and warnings on the lifestyle of the Monastery instead.

Shigemaru, who was the tallest among the Seeds and hence the last in line, had a privileged view of the room during the whole affair. He caught sight of some of his fellow newcomers fidgeting in place as the speech went on, completely distracted. He also noticed that none of the seniors even budged. They stood firm, their backs straightened, resolute and unwavering.

The difference between the seniors and the Seeds was clear as day. Would he too be the same a year later? As Shigemaru was entertaining that thought, however, the instructor’s speech finally came to an end.

Next in the schedule was the symbolic conferral of their ornamented blades. For this particular occasion, a different man came to the front. He looked to be in his late sixties, his black hair covered in white strands—Shoukaku, the director and leader of the Monastery's instructors. The man had woven his feather robe in the shape of priest vestments, and resting on top of it was a deep purple sash, covered in golden embroidery. One could hardly define him as physically fit, but the wisdom in his stern-looking eyes was clearly visible.

The chosen representative for the first years was Akeru, the Western House boy who had gone after Yukiya during introductions last night. He personally received his ornamented blade from the director, brimming with confidence and self-assurance. With that attitude, it was hard for Shigemaru to believe the boy was actually younger than him.

Once Akeru had finally returned to his original spot, the director started to speak. “To our newcomers, I first want to express my gratitude for choosing the Unbending Reed Monastery. Congratulations and thank you.” Unlike Shigemaru expected, the director's speech had quite the conservative start.

“We all welcome you.” He had a beautiful voice, firm and deep, especially so for his age. As he spoke, the unfocused eyes of the distracted Seeds started to gather back at him.

“There were many candidates this year. You succeeded in the trials and managed to be selected among them all—your talent is beyond question. You are this institution’s hope, the ones that will shape its future. Keep in mind that the Monastery operates on two fundamental principles—that of complete autonomy, and that might makes right,” the director proclaimed to them.

“We shall not be bound by external powers and, as long as you have the talent and skill required, nothing shall limit you. We have sworn our loyalty only towards the Imperial Family and the Golden Raven, and nobody else,” he continued quietly.

“Yamauchi is about to face unprecedented peril,” the director stopped talking for a moment, his gaze going over the entire hall. “You'll most likely face battle to defend the Imperial Family, and Yamauchi with it, more than any of your predecessors. Be ready, as you'll be risking your lives to protect everything. As this Monastery’s trainees, I expect you to work hard so as to not embarrass our institution.” That sentence marked the end of the speech, a surprisingly short affair. Afterwards, the director returned to his original spot and, inwardly, Shigemaru sighed in relief.

The rest of the ceremony went on in a similar solemn manner. When only the closing speech remained, however, a ruckus started right outside of the hall.

“Director, Your Excellency, we have a problem—” An administrative officer frantically came running in. Shigemaru couldn’t tell what he told the instructors, but they were clearly panicking as they started to move.

“Open the way!”

Following the instructors’ orders, the confused newcomers abandoned the center of the room. Who were they opening the space for, nobody told them. Fortunately, the mystery didn’t last long. A colorful group of people walked through the doors a short while later.

The entire hall was shaken at the sight.

“Lord Natsuka……!” Among a multitude of whispers, one stunned voice stood out. Natsuka—in other words, the man who gave up his position as Crown Prince to his younger brother. His Lordship, the eldest son of the Imperial Family!

Shigemaru turned around. The first person who stuck out to him was a man of truly abnormal appearance. He was massive—Shigemaru was already a large man, yet even he was dwarfed by the man’s stature. His huge bulging muscles were visible even with his feather robe on, which was fashioned after high-class traveling robes, even if he wore no crown(1) to go with it.

He had haphazardly tied his hair back, which made it look like a tanuki's tail in the middle of winter, and sharp canines which peeked through his smiling lips. His nose was hooked and his eyes had a spark to them. It was truly a striking gaze.

——He didn't look like royalty.

As he realized that, Shigemaru noticed another young man walking right behind, as if protected by the one in front. Anyone could feel the characteristic aura of the Center's aristocracy from him. He was attractive and quite tall, although not as much as the man walking in front of him.

His long hair was cut evenly, untied as it fell down his back. For dress, he wore a monk's stole in lavish gold over his purple priestly robes. His features were elegant, yet stern and chiseled in the way you would expect of a warrior. From their respective clothes, one could surmise that the one in the back was none other than Lord Natsuka, and the man in front was simply a bodyguard.

Immediately, the director came up to the middle of the hall to greet them, accompanied by the rest of the instructors. “Lord Natsuka, we heard it would be impossible for you to visit this year.”

“We took care of things as quickly as possible to come here,” the bodyguard in front spoke with a grin. “Rejoice, director. He comes to represent His Highness Wakamiya.”

“That's enough. Stand back, Rokon.” Natsuka moved to stand in front of the director, as if pushing his bodyguard—the man named Rokon—aside. “To tell the truth, His Highness Wakamiya planned to come personally at first. His Highness had to take care of some matters at the Imperial Court, however, so I was entrusted with this task in exchange. Do please forgive me for the sudden intrusion.”

Natsuka spoke with a composure unusual for his age. Faced with the imperial prince's apology, the director gently shook his head. “Do not worry yourself. We members of the Monastery, including the Yamauchi Guard, belong to everyone in the Imperial Family. It is our utmost honor to welcome you, thank you for coming all the way here. Now, if you may follow me.”

The director guided Natsuka to the seat right in front of the altar, which was reserved for the exclusive use of the imperial family. Yet, Natsuka made no attempt to sit in it and instead turned to look at the trainees. Rokon naturally walked after him, followed by his subordinates, taking his place right behind Natsuka.

Natsuka’s eyes passed over the entire room, as if studying the trainees, and he started to speak. The instructors didn’t even get the chance to formally introduce him.

“First of all, I wish to congratulate the new Seeds on their admission. It’s a joy and honor to meet you all here today,” Natsuka declared in a clear voice. “The bond between the Monastery and the Imperial Family has grown weaker in recent years. Which, I feel, is a terribly unfortunate situation for both sides. Although it was impossible on this particular occasion, it’s His Highness' wish as well to come visit the Monastery whenever the opportunity presents itself in the future.”

Natsuka continued to speak, his expression unflinching. “Times are changing, and the harm the Monkeys bring cannot be ignored. All of us, the Imperial Family, the Monastery and the Guard, cannot stay the same as we have been until now. You all must adapt and act according to the times. This applies not only for the new arrivals, but all trainees gathered here today.”

He frowned as he kept a watchful eye on them. “Both you and I are in the same position. It’s our duty to become the Golden Raven's swords and shields. We shall protect our Master and keep peace in Yamauchi by doing so. No swords shall be entrusted to those who feel no pride in this duty. As part of the Monastery, I expect you to stand as the Golden Raven’s most loyal followers.”

“Salute!” a thundering voice shook the room.

“Yes!” The trainees moved in an instant, saluting in answer. Their hands overlapped under their chest, their palms raised upwards. The pose was supposed to represent the act of lifting up their bird form's third leg in offering.

Natsuka watched as all the trainees in the hall dedicated their invisible third legs to him and finally nodded, satisfied. After the closing speech that followed his own, his group left the hall with the director at their side.

“Lord Natsuka truly seems to get along with His Highness,” Shigemaru commented.

With the entrance ceremony over, the Seeds all went back to the dining hall to wait for instructions on their following classes. There, Shigemaru finally got his chance to approach Yukiya, who had been at the very front of the line, again.

“Yes! He can be a tad overprotective, but there’s no doubt that Lord Natsuka is His Highness’ biggest supporter.”

“You know, that was my first time meeting someone from the Imperial Family, and… How should I put it? He was so… dignified, I guess? His self-importance was on another level.”

They were talking and enjoying themselves when Shigemaru caught sight of someone’s figure by the door. Before he even got a chance to determine who it was, he heard the man deeply inhale.

“I see. You dipshits don't realize you're already Monastery trainees, huh!?” The man's shout was so loud the hall’s pillars trembled.

Silence filled the room. The startled Seeds stopped chatting immediately, yet it was too late—their instructor, followed by a group of assistants, had already entered the dining hall.

The man’s yelling didn’t stop at that, blue veins bulging in his forehead. “Look at you, twittering your lives away! Don't get cocky, you brats! You're no more than nestlings, incapable of anything but chirping, waiting and pleading for someone to put some food in those open mouths of yours!”

For a warrior, the man yelling at them was fairly short, yet the muscles in his arrogantly crossed arms were huge enough to make one doubt their eyes. Shigemaru felt himself shudder, thinking of what would happen to him if the instructor were to punch him.

The instructor looked only a little younger than the director, but they couldn’t be any less alike. The director looked stern, but had an air of thoughtfulness that only came with age. The man in front of them, on the other hand—with his sunken, round eyes and his upturned nose—was the very picture of a frightening outlaw. His skin was like well-worn leather, and not a single strand of hair was left on his shining head.

“What are you doing, sitting in front of an instructor!? Stand up!”

Following his orders, the so-called nestlings stood up all flustered. Reprimands kept on coming from all directions as they did it. ‘Too slow’, ‘stop dillydallying’. It seemed to never end. At some point during this entire process, more than four assistant instructors had moved to surround them. The men frowned at the trainees, scrutinizing their every move.

“I'll be in charge of all your practical courses. I'm Instructor Kashin,” the man introduced himself as he walked in front of them, a consistent downwards glare on his face. “You truly are like a bunch of nestlings, eggshells still stuck on your asses. I get headaches just from looking at you, but this is, alas, my duty. I’ll answer to your ceaseless tweeting, and stuff enough food into those constantly open beaks of yours till your bellies explode.”

“So,” Kashin kept explaining as he turned around, “you better pay attention before it comes to that. Take the knowledge of how to hunt and fly on your own from those who feed you. If you bother to close your beaks and savor the food we give you, you'll eventually get the strength to actually fly before you burst open.”

Kashin stopped all of a sudden, face-to-face with the closest trainee. “Hey, you.”

“Y-Yes!”

“Tell me, what are the basic skills required of the Yamauchi Guard?”

“Huh?”

“The Monastery's entrance exams are categorized according to them. Go on, tell me.”

The trainee in question could only tremble uncontrollably, incapable of answering.

“Too slow! If you don't know, just say so!”

“I-I don't know!”

“Then better learn from this. Next!”

The next trainee, standing right beside the other, floundered as he attempted to answer. “Swordsmanship, archery and… horsemanship……?”

“That's all?”

“That's… all I know.”

“What are you, a chicken!? Incapable of remembering even what you have done?”

“I'm sorry!”

“Don't apologize so easily! Hold your head high, even if it's just for show. Don't ever give others such a blatant opening to attack you, make them work for it. Next!”

“The skills required of a member of the Yamauchi Guard are what we call the Six Arts, Four Techniques and Two Studies(2),” the trainee answered calmly.

For once, Kashin didn't scream as he looked back at the boy. “And that means?”

“The Six Arts refer to the following: Etiquette, Poetry and Music, Archery, Riding, Writing, and Accounting. The Four Techniques are composed of Strategy, Swordsmanship, Martial Arts, and General Combat. Lastly, the Two Studies are Medicine and Law.”

It was such a smooth answer that the others gasped in admiration. The third trainee Kashin had singled out was none other than a beautiful-looking redhead—Akeru of the Western House. Kashin gave him a good, hard look, yet the boy’s gaze remained fixed in front of him.

Finally, the instructor nodded. “Correct. Just as he said, we refer to a Guard's skillset as the Six Arts, Four Techniques and Two Studies.”

The Yamauchi Guard had the authority to act as legitimate Court Officials in cases of emergency. The Six Arts were considered to be essential in order to properly exercise such a right. They were divided into five different courses: ‘Etiquette and Poetry’, ‘Archery’, ‘Horsemanship’, ‘Writing’, and ‘Accounting’.

Then, there were the Four Techniques. ‘Strategy’, to learn to lead troops; ‘Swordsmanship’, to perfect their skill with a blade; ‘Martial Arts’, to master the ways of fighting unarmed; and lastly ‘General Combat’, which covered any other weapons such as spears and throwing knives.

Finally, the Two Studies. ‘Medicine’, to be capable of mending one’s wounds if necessary; and ‘Law’, to understand the Court's regulations and the extent of the Guard's area of action and any associated limits. In total, the Monastery had eleven subjects, and the further their studies progressed, the more their lessons focused on practice and less on theory.

“Five of them are labeled as practical courses: Archery, Horsemanship, Swordsmanship, Martial Arts, and General Combat. Once you become Saplings and Evergreens, Strategy will also be included in this category as you start with mock battles.”

In other words, out of the existing eleven subjects, Kashin was responsible for a total of five—almost half of them. “I won't be nice to you. Don’t expect me to hold back. If you want to leave, please do so. If you want to run, feel free. The Unbending Reed Monastery isn't so lenient a place as to stop those who have no will to keep going,” Kashin suddenly said in a low voice. The boy in front of Shigemaru gulped.

“Now, to continue, I'll give you all your ornamented blades. When I call your name, speak up and come to the front.”

Immediately, the Seeds saluted and, one by one, went on to receive their own blades. Shigemaru couldn’t help but to wonder just how many people had owned them before. The cord of the ornamented blade they gave him was new, of that there was no doubt, but he could see small scratches all over the rest of it.

Once all trainees had received their blade, Kashin called one of his assistants to the front. “From here on, coming to lessons in whatever feather robe you prefer is forbidden. Look at what he's wearing and weave an identical one. Right now.”

The assistant instructor stood in front of the trainees, following Kashin's orders, and he extended his arms to make the robe easier for them to see. Then, he slowly spun around just once to show them the details. The look was completely different from what the instructors had worn at the ceremony, or the feather robes Natsuka's bodyguards wove for themselves.

Instead of the usual kimono sleeves, these were shaped like a tube, getting narrower from the elbow downwards. Below the knees, the hakama was melded with the gaiters and tabi with no opening whatsoever. A band of wrapped fabric with a pouch(3) covered the body from chest to thighs and was held up by an obi belt. At first glance, it made the outfit have some undeniable resemblance to the garments worn by court officials and high nobility.

Shigemaru wove his own to match the example as closely as possible, yet one of the assistant instructors, who was walking among the trainees watching for any mistakes, still gave him a warning.

“Don’t just imitate the shape. Make the fabric on the shoulders and elbows thicker and fit it as closely to your own body as possible. At the very least, it must be more or less as thick as the soles under your feet.”

“Thicker…?”

“It’s to protect the joints. It will help absorb the impact when you get hit, so make sure to make it again and overlap several layers.”

Oh, so that was why. Shigemaru was weaving his feather robe anew when Kashin, who was also walking among the trainees, started to explain. “The uniform’s shape is designed to be as minimalistic as possible so it won’t impede your movement on the battlefield. It will help protect your vital organs, I can guarantee its functionality. On top of that, as long as you weave it properly, it will ensure that any hick of a raven looks decent, proper even. It's a garment fit even for attending official ceremonies and rituals.”

Once most of the trainees had finished fixing their feather robes, Kashin insisted once more that, as trainees, they had to wear these at all times. “Now, we'll see how to strap on your ornamented blades.”

A warrior had to be capable of transforming and taking on the role of a horse in case of an emergency. In order to not drop their weapons and to not impede their own shapeshifting in the process, they had to tie their swords in a very specific way.

“You'll learn more about this during your ‘Horsemanship’ lessons but, if you know how to tie the straps properly, your katana or tachi can even become replacement stirrups and bit. However, if any of you just tie it down haphazardly and end up incapable of using it in times of need, I'll come find you personally and use my sword to turn you into dirt.”

How one could turn the ornamented blade into stirrups and bit was a mystery to Shigemaru, but he made an effort to tie it on his hip exactly as instructed all the same. By the time the assistants had given them all their approval once again, they had finally morphed into proper-looking Monastery trainees.

By the time it was all over, the sun was still high in the sky and so the instructors brought the Seeds out to the plaza in front of the great hall. Finally, the training was about to actually start—or so Shigemaru thought. Reality proved to be a whole different story.

The rest of their day was spent on two orders only, delivered by Kashin time and time again: ‘group up’ and ‘line up’.

The newcomers, wholly uncoordinated with each other, kept on moving as instructed. They lined up and then dispersed, changed places and grouped once more; then lined up just to disperse again—the same actions on repeat, over and over again, until the sun finally set.

“That's all for today!” Kashin said by the time dinner preparations were about to start.

By that point, the Seeds were completely exhausted not physically, but mentally. “What was that…?”

“Why do that? What's even the point?”

Everyone was complaining after spending their entire day repeating the same two things. It was beyond boring and, to their displeasure, it proved to not be limited to their first day either. It was all they did past afternoon the following day and the day after that as their instructors hammered in the technique behind moving efficiently as a group. They saw no other form of training until one single command was enough to make their bodies move on reflex.

The simplistic and apparently unending training drills were still ongoing by the time theory lessons started and, as far as Shigemaru was concerned, those were a much bigger problem.

The morning courses consisted of six subjects: Etiquette and Poetry, Writing, Accounting, Strategy, Medicine, and Law. Shigemaru didn’t have many chances to even read back at home, so every single one of them was nothing more than gibberish to him and, to make matters worse, the amount of homework was beyond staggering.

He returned to his room as soon as he was done with dinner and his bath, even skipping sleep to dedicate himself to it, and he was still incapable of finishing it all. Shigemaru wasn't the only one struggling either—most of his fellow commoners seemed to be having the exact same problem as him.

From the second day onwards, Yukiya started helping him out and, as soon as the rest of the commoner trainees got wind of that, they too put their shame aside and came to ask for help. Yukiya gladly welcomed them and actually did his best to teach them all. However, they found a massive hurdle in their way.

——Yukiya was, in fact, utterly hopeless as a teacher.

“To think I would have to face my own inadequacy like this!” ‘Don't worry, it'll be easy’, he had once said, yet all that initial self-confidence was now long gone. Confronted by his own inability to translate thoughts into words, Yukiya held his head in despair.

“It's fine, Yukiya, it's really fine. We know you're trying your best to teach us…” The trainees gathered in the tenth room cried, well aware of the scolding that awaited them the following day. Meanwhile, a pained Yukiya could only watch over the scene powerlessly.

“It is not fine!” he insisted.

In the end, Yukiya let them copy his own homework.

Theory lessons were Shigemaru's natural enemy, yet there was one specific subject that stood out among them all—‘Etiquette and Poetry’. Their first class was the day immediately after the entrance ceremony and doubled as their first theory session. Once they were finished cleaning up their breakfast trays as they usually did, the trainees went on to distribute the long desks resting in a corner of the room throughout the dining hall and sat there, waiting with frayed nerves, for the instructor to arrive.

“Good morning, everyone. I hope you had a good rest last night,” their new instructor greeted them with a smile as he arrived.

His appearance was unlike anything one would expect from a Monastery instructor. He seemed to be past his forties and his silky-looking hair was loosely gathered and tied down. His gentle face was decorated with laugh lines and his feather robe was woven for comfort, its fit good but loose. All in all, he gave off the impression of a young retiree who had since lived a good, sequestered life. Unlike your average retiree, however, his right arm was nowhere to be seen.

——Their Etiquette instructor was an amputee, one noticeably younger than he looked.

“My name is Seiken. I'll be in charge of your ‘Etiquette and Poetry’ classes for this year. Don’t hesitate to ask me if you have any questions or requests about anything concerning your studies. We'll be spending a lot of time together, so it’s in our best interest to make it as productive as possible.”

After Kashin, with his intimidating appearance and the entire evening he had spent screaming at them, the Seeds found Seiken’s smile anticlimactic and, while most of them were simply perplexed, others had obviously started to look down on their apparently humble instructor.

“Instructor,” a boy quickly raised his hand. He had been among those complaining about the amount of theory they had to study before the class had even started.

“Yes?” Seiken turned towards him, a smile on his face.

The trainee promptly asked. “I don’t understand. Why do we have to learn something like ‘Etiquette and Poetry’ in a place like the Monastery?”

“Oh, now that's a problem,” Seiken muttered with a frown. However, he didn't seem angry in the slightest.

Emboldened by the instructor’s reaction, the trainee started to get carried away. “I mean, isn't swordsmanship the most important skill for a Yamauchi Guard? But we weren’t even allowed to touch a bamboo sword yesterday. If we are going to waste our time on such things, shouldn't we frequent the dojo more?”

It was undeniable that, even out of the theory subjects, ‘Etiquette and Poetry’ seemed like the most meaningless of them all. Shigemaru himself could still understand why they would study Writing or Accounting. A Guard had to be able to read orders or handle their unit's finances, after all. That made sense. Etiquette, however? Proper manners and dress? Court ethics? Hearing that, he didn’t have the slightest idea of what they were supposed to even do.

The rest of the trainees, also unhappy with their current workload consisting exclusively of group movement drills and theory, started to whisper in unanimous agreement.

“Besides, what happened to your arm?” the boy asked out of curiosity.

At that, Seiken forced a smile. “I had quite the eventful youth.”

“But you're a Monastery instructor, aren't you?”

He didn’t have to voice it out loud for everyone to know what he truly meant. How could someone like him, who was missing an arm, guide them, warriors-to-be?

Now, Shigemaru was the first one annoyed by the sheer amount of theory, but that and this were different matters altogether—that last question was just insensitive. The boy's attitude was out of place and unbefitting of a Monastery trainee.

Shigemaru waited, wondering how Seiken would react to the provocation. The man, however, didn't lash out or even try to blame his student.

“Thank you for your concern, but I'm already retired from active service. As you have already well noticed, I’m not fit for anything resembling proper work in my state anymore,” Seiken didn't seem to be troubled at all by the question. His expression was more concerned than anything, and a few trainees scoffed at that.

“And yet, society is truly a marvelous thing,” as Seiken kept speaking, the laughs suddenly stopped. “The right man for the right job, you know? As long as you have actual talent, there will be somewhere for you to make the most of it. I lost the qualifications to be a Yamauchi Guard myself, but I turned out to be a good fit to train future ones. Which is why I'm now standing here as your tutor.”

His expression was just as gentle as before, yet the tension filling the hall could be cut with a knife. “The Yamauchi Guard holds the power to act as actual Court Officials if the situation calls for it. You aren't aiming to become plain old soldiers here. What you'll be learning in these ‘Etiquette’ lessons isn't how to acquire power, but how to best use said power—or, in other words, to not misuse it.” Seiken then murmured with clear emotion. “But, well, that can be said of all the other subjects as well.”

Just like that, his young students found their attempts at ridicule entirely shut down by him.

“You must not become power yourselves. There is no meaning in that,” he finally said resolutely. Seiken faced the now silent trainees and gave them a sweet smile. “Don't misunderstand me. If it all boiled down to physical raw strength, you would become no different from the roughnecks of the Ravine. You aren't outlaws, and this Monastery definitely doesn't exist to raise people like that either. This class's purpose is precisely to turn a bunch of irrational beasts prone to violence into splendid Yatagarasu,” Seiken's tone of voice was totally calm, yet firm.

“If you still have any issue with this class after having heard that, I won't stop you from leaving. I'll respect your decision. However, if that’s the case, you better leave this place. You'll only get in the way of the other trainees.”

Etiquette and Poetry was both a hard requisite and the first course to be taught out of all of the theory ones. The moment someone left the room, he would have no option but to return to his dormitory room in order to pack his belongings. It would mean saying his farewells to the Monastery altogether.

“......Any other questions?” Seiken looked over the frozen trainees as he held an oppressive silence. Finally, he gave them a faint smile. “Very well. Let's begin then.”

That day, the lesson only went as far as the trainees’ self-introductions and going over the class schedule. Seiken didn't raise his voice even once in the entire process, always gentle to a fault. However, most of the trainees seemed to share the same opinion of him by the time the bell rang and they got to leave the dining hall—Seiken was, actually, way more terrifying than Kashin.

Then, the next day in Accounting, they learned that Seiken was, in fact, their main instructor for anything concerning theory subjects.

Group drills and theory were their constant for a while. By the time the trainees were able to follow Kashin’s commands to perfection, the cherry trees, in full bloom when they had arrived, were already covered in green leaves. At last, practical courses could truly start in earnest.

First was Horsemanship. In short, the subject was all about riding horses and driving flying carriages. However, in the specific case of the Yamauchi Guard, they had to be able to perform both the role of the rider and of the horse. The ultimate goal was to be able to cover very long distances in pairs by switching between rider and horse midair.

The early Horsemanship lessons consisted, however, of marching drills. The instructor and his assistants led the way or stood side by side with them as they ran around the Monastery's grounds, shifting to fly when the situation called for it.

Yatagarasu lost their power to change forms once the sun set, so they would be stuck in bird form if that ever happened, unable to turn human again until the dawn of the following day. The opposite was also true, of course. It was for this reason that lessons finished as soon as the sun started to sink, yet that didn’t make them feel any shorter. Even with breaks along the way, it was still endless training from lunch to nightfall, shifting over and over again.

At first, Shigemaru was worried for Yukiya, wondering if he would be able to keep up with this kind of training. As a commoner, Shigemaru was very much used to shifting forms, but he had heard that plenty of Court Ravens spent their entire lives without ever consciously transforming. In fact, Akeru seemed to struggle quite a bit with these marching drills despite his otherwise excellent performance.

The closer to the Center Yatagarasu lived—or the higher their rank—, the more ‘shame’ they felt regarding their bird form. Part of it was because of the horses, people who were incapable of surviving in human form and who were forced to spend their lives working in bird form. The other main reason was the punishment referred to as ‘Disarticulation’(4)—the heaviest penalty possible right after death and exile from Yamauchi itself. The punished were forced to take bird form with no going back, toiling as a horse for the rest of their lives.

Their third leg, which was only visible as ravens, was widely considered to be the ‘proof of their Yamagami-given divinity’ and the single most important organ of a Yatagarasu. This was also the reason behind the salute performed by the warriors of Yamauchi, designed to mimic the act of holding the third leg out in offering. If said leg were to be cut, they would be incapable of taking human form ever again.

The reigning theory was that this played a huge part of why Court Ravens, who could easily afford to live without transforming, disliked the idea of doing so in public so vehemently. However, as far as the commoners were concerned, their bird forms made travel much easier and helped them work more efficiently, so avoiding it over shame of all things was plainly idiotic.

According to what they had talked about, Yukiya was a rural noble, so where did he land in this particular dichotomy? When the drills first started, Shigemaru had been quite worried about that, yet it all turned out to be wholly unnecessary.

In their entire training routine, the hardest hurdle to overcome was the bamboo grove. The Monastery actively maintained and thinned it out so that the gap between the trees was just wide enough for a bird Yatagarasu to barely fit through when flying. On top of that, the instructors kept watch from up in the sky and would immediately correct anyone who tried to bypass the exercise by flying over the grove instead.

Those skilled with their wings could pass it by flying, while the rest were left with no option but to return to human form midway and keep running—or end up crashing against the bamboo stalks. If you got stuck there in your bird form, you could end up blocking everyone else's way, so even Shigemaru, who was used to flight, struggled with this part.

Left with no other option, Shigemaru switched to his human form and started to run, ornamented blade in hand, just as he felt a disturbance in the air over his head. A bird’s shadow passed right over him.

And what an adept flier he was. He didn’t go particularly fast, true, but he flew as lightly as a swallow even with the other lamenting trainees, the many feathers swirling around, and the flapping wings that overtook his sight.

The raven moved ahead, nimbly dodging every single obstacle. He had come all the way from the rear, yet he somehow managed to reach the vanguard group by the end.

As he took human form, Shigemaru noticed the dandelion-like fluffy hair.

There was no mistaking it, that was Yukiya.

“Good job, Shige.” Once the lagging Shigemaru finally arrived at the finish line, Yukiya approached him. He looked as fresh as ever, not even the slightest hint of fatigue in his face.

“You're amazing! You were among the first to arrive before I even noticed, I didn't expect that.”

“Well, I may be a rural noble in theory, but mine is a warrior family—I was taught the fundamentals ever since I was a little kid. A warrior who isn't accustomed to using his own bird form would be useless in an emergency.”

It would take Shigemaru a while to realize, but for someone like him, who had so far trained entirely on his own, befriending someone like Yukiya from a proper warrior family had been quite the stroke of good luck.

Next: Shigemaru (Part 3)

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1: The traveling robes here refer to Kachie (褐衣), a variant of the Hou (袍), the outer layer typically worn by high-ranking men in the Heian era. The Kachie was typically worn, between others, by warriors lacking any kind of official rank. The crown refers to a Kanmuri (冠), the hat typically used along with a Hou by adults back then.

2: The Rikugei Shijutsu Nigaku (六芸四術二学) are modelled after the historical Rikugei (六芸), the arts considered essential for noblemen and high ranking people in Ancient China, said to originate during the Zhou Dynasty. Shijutsu (四術) had a similar usage, as the four paths an intellectual had to master in ancient times. Unlike the Rikugei, which are a copy virtually word-for-word, Yamauchi's Shijutsu has nothing in common with the historical Shijutsu beyond the name.

3: The original description is a doumaki (胴巻き), which were essentially money pouches, attached to a ran (襴), which was the wrapped fabric forming the lower section of the aforementioned Hou (袍). This is why, in the eyes of Yamauchi’s society, it helps make the outfit look more suitable for formal events.

4: As a note, this is the first time Disarticulation or Leg Cutting (斬足) was mentioned in the novels. The finer details of Hamayuu’s past were significantly revamped for the anime.

#Translation: The Raven of the Empty Coffin #yatagarasu #yatagarasu series #the raven does not choose its master #karasu wa aruji wo erabanai

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