Takara hissed before she swept her wooden sword against her tortoise and disarmed him so fast that no one had time to process her move.

In spite of the throbbing pain, Ryuichi forced himself to return to help Kato while Toshi continued attacking him.

“What is this?” That booming voice held the rage of a god, and it brought every student to a standstill.

Toshi paled as he realized who he’d angered. His fear was so great that he dropped his sword and tripped.

Even Masaru slinked away and vanished.

Hattori Hanzō approached their group with Kasumi and the Black Tortoise sensei two steps behind him. All three eyed Toshi and the others with fury and disgust.

The Black Tortoise sensei curled his lip. “In all my years, I’ve never seen a more disgraceful display in this house.”

Ryuichi winced. While he was grateful they were here to stop it, he had a bad feeling in his gut.

Takara touched his arm, steadying him. Comforting him.

Hanzō walked forward to close the distance between them. Those in his path split to make room, and to avoid his wrath. No one wanted to be in striking distance, as they all knew of his legendary temper.

Every sharp step sounded like thunder on the ground.

With his dark gaze that missed no detail, Hanzō took in the damage that surrounded them.

One Black Tortoise student was on the ground. Another was holding his leg, crying like a newborn. One of their star pupils had been using his sword to knock another student’s brains out.

Ryuichi, the worthless foundling he’d brought to his academy, was barely standing and trying to avoid his steely gaze.

And his daughter was holding her own bloody training sword.

This cannot be good. Ryuichi wanted to find a hole to vanish into.

He’d been cast in this role too many times to not know how the play ended.

With him as a villain.

Punished.

Please, let it be different here.

Terrified, he held his breath and waited.

Hanzō clenched his fists. Toshi bowed before his lord. “I-it was that boy, Ryuichi’s, fault. He challenged us to a fight as soon as we arrived. He was jealous of us. Kato and Takara joined him.”

Hanzō narrowed that menacing gaze before he pinned it on Ryuichi, causing his gut to tighten even more. “Is this true?”

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Ryuichi swallowed hard. He wanted to deny it, but if he did . . .

It would be worse.

“Yes, sir. But not like that. I mean, I⁠—”

Hanzō held his hand up to cut him off mid-sentence.

Even though Ryuichi was desperate to explain what had happened, he knew better than to speak.

As did Takara. To publicly contradict their lord would be seen as a horrific offense. They would have to ride this out and pray for a miracle.