Chapter 19: The First Breath and the Duke’s Shadow

The night was thick and humid, the air outside the inn filled with the distant, rhythmic chirping of forest insects. Inside their shared room, the Kazuha brothers sat around a small, flickering candle. The silence was heavy with the weight of their recent successes.

Inori leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. “We’ve done it. The factories are running. Balthazar is gone. We’ve turned a dying village into a manufacturing hub in less than ten days.” He paused, his voice dropping an octave. “Takuya… do you think there’s a way back? To Earth?”

Takuya didn’t look up from the blueprints he was folding. “The probability is effectively zero, Inori. To reverse whatever localized spacetime anomaly brought us here would require energy levels and theoretical physics far beyond our current capabilities. We didn’t arrive here via a door; we arrived via a collapse. We don’t have the tools to rebuild that bridge.”

Kaguya nodded, his face illuminated by the amber candle flame. “Survival is our only logical directive now. We improve this village not just for them, but for our own quality of life. I refuse to live in a world without basic sanitation and medicine.”

“Then we need to know where we are,” Takuya said, his eyes sharpening. “We are operating in a vacuum. We need to know the noble system of Cynthia. How is the kingdom managed? What is the current military technology? We need a map, Kaguya. If we are to expand, we need to know the trade routes, the neighboring threats, and the internal politics of the capital. We need to know who truly holds the leash on this territory.”

“The merchant must have one,” Kaguya suggested. “Governments and guilds cannot function without cartography. A record must exist somewhere.”

Takuya nodded. “I’ll discuss it with Silas tomorrow. We need to—”

A loud, rhythmic snore cut through the tension. Both older brothers turned to see Inori fast asleep, his head lolling to the side.

Takuya sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s late. We’ve all pushed too hard. Let’s sleep.”

“I have a task at dawn,” Kaguya noted, standing up. “There is a pregnant woman in the north district. She’s close to her term. I need to perform a prenatal check to ensure the fetal position is correct.”

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The next morning, the air was cool and mist-laden as Kaguya walked toward a small, thatched house at the northern edge of the village. He carried a small leather kit containing sterilized linen and a wooden fetoscope he had fashioned to listen to the fetal heartbeat.

As he neared the house, a man—the husband—came sprinting out, his face pale with terror. “Master Healer! Please! My wife… she says it’s too soon, but the pain… she’s screaming!”

Kaguya’s pace quickened instantly. Preterm labor. Risk of respiratory distress and malpresentation, he analyzed.

He entered the cramped, dimly lit room. Two local midwives were already there, looking panicked. “Master Kaguya, it’s too early! The waters broke, but she isn’t ready!” one cried.

“Step aside,” Kaguya commanded. He turned to the husband. “I need your permission to perform a physical assessment. I must determine the baby’s position immediately.”

The husband nodded frantically. Kaguya moved to the bedside. He began the Leopold Maneuvers, his long, steady fingers moving with practiced precision over the mother’s distended abdomen.

First maneuver: Palpating the fundus. It’s soft and irregular—the breech. Second maneuver: Locating the back. Firm and smooth on the left side. Third maneuver: The presenting part. Hard and round—the head is engaged in the pelvis. Fourth maneuver: Determining the degree of flexion.

“The fetus is in a vertex presentation. The position is ideal,” Kaguya announced, though his brow remained furrowed. “But the contractions are too rapid. We are committed now. Leo! Hand me the Clear-Water!”

He turned to the midwives. “Boil more water. Clean the linen. When I tell her to push, you will support her legs.”

For the next three hours, the room became a battlefield of clinical precision. Kaguya coached the mother through the crowning process, his voice a calm, unwavering anchor amidst her agony. When the head finally emerged, he checked for the nuchal cord—the umbilical cord around the neck. Finding it clear, he guided the shoulders out.

A sharp, wet cry broke the morning silence.

Kaguya immediately held the infant slightly head-down, clearing the mucus from the nose and mouth. He wrapped the baby in warmed, clean linen. While the midwives managed the delivery of the placenta, Kaguya performed a rapid APGAR assessment.

“The lungs are clear. Heart rate is stable,” Kaguya told the weeping parents. He handed the baby to the mother. “Keep the infant warm. Skin-to-skin contact is vital for a premature birth. I will have Leo bring a nutrient-rich broth for the mother to aid in her recovery and milk production.”

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By afternoon, the atmosphere at the new Headquarters was focused and professional. Takuya was reviewing the final logistics for the Rammed Earth project. Carts of Inori’s plaster were being staged, and the labor rosters were pinned to the wall.

Silas entered, looking impressed. “The village is buzzing, Takuya. Kaguya saved a child this morning. The people… they don’t just respect you now. They believe in you.”

Takuya acknowledged the news with a nod, but his mind was already on the next phase. “Silas, sit. I need information about the Kingdom. Is there a map of the Cynthia region? Something that shows the borders and the cities?”

Silas shook his head. “Maps are the business of the Crown and the high lords, Takuya. A common farmer seeing a map is like a dog looking at the stars. Only the nobility keep those records to manage their taxes and their wars.”

Takuya tapped his chin. “Then tell me about the nobility here. Who manages this specific territory?”

“That would be Duke Balmarrat Matthew,” Silas replied. “He lives in the regional capital, three days’ journey from Suebic Town. He is… a rare man. Just, kind, and he hates seeing his people suffer.”

Silas leaned in, lowering his voice. “But the Duke is a soldier, not a bookkeeper. He knows how to lead a charge, but he knows nothing of coin or trade. He relies entirely on his court officials and government staff to run the province. There are whispers, Takuya… whispers that his staff is bleeding the province dry, embezzling taxes while the Duke wonders why his villages are failing.”

Takuya went deathly silent. His eyes fixed on a spot on the wall as his corporate mind began to simulate a thousand possibilities.

A “kind” ruler who was being robbed by his own subordinates? A man who had power but no oversight of his own economy?

Takuya’s lips curled into a slow, wide, and terrifyingly ambitious smile.

“An honest leader with a corrupt staff,” Takuya whispered, his voice laced with pure predatory delight. “He doesn’t need soldiers. He needs an Auditor. He needs a CFO.”

Takuya looked at Silas, his eyes gleaming. “I need to meet this Duke.”