[Yoma County]
County Chief Shirakawa was leaning slantwise on the tatami.
He was over forty, tall and fat, his face looked rather kind, only right now it was filled with worry.
Beside him, his wife handed him a chilled watermelon freshly taken from the well.
Unlike other county chiefs, Shirakawa had no desire to climb upward, nor to pursue wealth. Instead, he had always remained with his childhood sweetheart of a wife, never once speaking of taking a concubine.
His only hobby was eating.
But today, he had no appetite, and the reason was simple.
Shirakawa lifted his eyes, looking at the samurai lying all over the county mansion.
Each of them was wounded, groaning endlessly in pain.
Every doctor in town had been brought in, but with injuries this heavy… even if half of them survived it would be considered good fortune.
And not only the samurai, beside them were also two shinobi from Kirigakure.
One was already dead, his body cold.
The other had been cut open with his guts spilling out; earlier the doctor had just stuffed them back in roughly, now busy trying to stop the bleeding.
Shirakawa stared at the mist shrouding the town.
All of this was because of it.
He grabbed the watermelon his wife handed over, bit down fiercely, juice spraying everywhere, as if venting his emotions this way.
"What the f*ck is this supposed to be?!"
"Can't Heaven just send down a gust of wind, blow away this damned fog?"
The words had just fallen, a gale swept in from afar, roof tiles rattling, trees swaying, leaves whirling into the sky like emerald blades, slicing the thick fog apart.
For the first time in ages, the blue sky revealed itself overhead. The sticky dampness vanished, even breathing felt incomparably free.
Holding his watermelon, Shirakawa dumbly turned his head.
Not only him, the wounded stopped groaning, the doctors froze mid-action, townsfolk hiding inside their homes quietly pushed open their windows.
Pairs of eyes all looked toward where the wind had come from.
Clop~ Clop…
The sound of hooves at the town's entrance.
A man sat on horseback, holding the reins. His gaze swept across half the town, landing on the wide-open gates of the county mansion.
He carried no weapon on his back, wore no headband, his clothes were plain. Yet when people saw his face, their hearts inexplicably beat faster, a strange tension filling them.
"Ryo…"
The surviving Kirigakure shinobi, Sakamoto, widened his eyes and instinctively shouted, "Lord Ryosuke!"
Because he shouted too hard, the intestines stuffed back inside spilled out again.
But he no longer felt fear, only endless reassurance.
Hearing the words "Lord Ryosuke", Shirakawa's halted thoughts began moving again.
He slowly chewed the watermelon in his mouth, his gaze fixed on Ryosuke, and the caravan following behind him.
In his tiny eyes squeezed by fat, light shifted constantly. At last, as if realizing something, he suddenly stood up.
Without even shoes, barefoot, he stomped quickly down from the county mansion, rushing into the middle of the road, dropping to his knees, his forehead striking the ground with a thud.
"Yoma County is beset by bandits, we are at the brink of disaster, I boldly beg Lord Ryosuke to act, and save thousands of townsfolk from fire and water!"
The hooves stopped right before Shirakawa's bleeding forehead.
Ryosuke glanced at the blood dripping from it, then swept his eyes around, meeting the gazes of the wounded samurai, the shinobi, and the townsfolk peeking nervously through window cracks.
He dismounted, walked past Shirakawa.
"Tell me in detail."
———
About a month ago, a band of brigands had appeared near Yoma County. They occupied a mountain some seven or eight li outside of town, setting up camp there.
A group like that on a mountain would never obediently farm or herd cattle.
On one hand they kept robbing traveling merchants.
On the other, they extorted money from Shirakawa.
"…So, the samurai went up to suppress them. That poor bastard and I accepted the village's request..."
Sakamoto glanced at his dead comrade, "...and were hired to go with the samurai."
"They said something about 'fog,' and we thought it was Mist-nin techniques. But when we really entered… it wasn't like that at all."
Sakamoto's eyes still held lingering fear.
"That bandit chief can create a confusing illusory fog. We couldn't even see where the enemy was, or who our comrades were."
Calling it a battle wasn't even right, in truth, they never even touched the enemy's body, and ended up beaten into this state.
Ryosuke nodded, then suddenly felt this surviving Mist-nin looked familiar.
"We've met before?"
"Ahaha..."
Sakamoto gave a dry laugh, shifting his eyes away, "I used to be a member of the 'Loyalist Faction.' That night you toppled Yagura, I even threw a kunai at you… Of course I've already repented since then!"
Back then, nearly half of Kirigakure's shinobi were Loyalists. After Yagura's fall, some ringleaders were executed, but the rest returned to their posts, taking on the harshest missions to offset their former crimes.
Ryosuke gave him a glance. Sakamoto's mouth went dry, then he saw Ryosuke lift his hand, and squeezed his eyes shut in fright.
The next second, a hand simply fell on his shoulder, patting lightly.
"Work hard, strive..."
Sakamoto opened his eyes, seeing Ryosuke's departing back.
"...to one day live with a clear conscience."
Ryosuke swung up onto his horse, heading toward the bandit stronghold.
Whether to flatten it, or if there was more hidden, he would only know after seeing it himself.
Mei Terumī caught up, "I'll go with you."
Even Zabuza, skilled in mist techniques, wanted to follow, but Hayato Kamihara stopped him with a look, secretly pointing toward Shirakawa.
That seemingly kind-faced county chief was no simple man, someone had to keep an eye on him. Leaving only little Chōjūrō wouldn't be enough to protect the caravan.
As Ryosuke and Mei rode off, Shirakawa's smile slowly faded. A samurai with a sword at his waist trotted up, glanced back at Zabuza and the others, then whispered into Shirakawa's ear, "County Chief, is this really okay?"
A sharp glint flashed in Shirakawa's narrowed eyes, "What do you mean?"
"The bandits… they…"
The samurai swallowed, lowering his voice even more, "They claim to be Lord Ryosuke's believers. They call themselves the 'Awakened'… Shouldn't we at least warn him of this?"
Shirakawa still smiled, but his tone was chilling, "Don't ask what you shouldn't ask."
"Y-yes!"
He gazed at Ryosuke's departing back, his eyes complicated. Finally he gave a cold snort, sat back down heavily, and dug back into his watermelon.
Meanwhile, not far away, Ryosuke and Mei each mounted a horse, galloping toward the depths of the fog.
After only twenty minutes, the ground beneath grew soft and sunken, turning into low wetlands and swamps.
"No wonder samurai with armor plus two shinobi still couldn't handle this. This terrain counters them perfectly."
Ryosuke thought, releasing a thread of Ripple energy. The soggy land hardened under its flow. With a flick of the reins, the road cleared smoothly ahead.
After going a bit farther, a fog-shrouded mountain came into view. Just as Ryosuke urged his horse forward, a group of over ten men came driving three carriages.
Before they even drew near, angry voices echoed from inside, "Damn it! Your merchant husband's a man, I'm a man too. You can serve him but not me?!"
Then a loud slap.
"You know what fairness means? You know what the f*ck equality is?!"
With a bang, the woman's head smashed against the carriage door, knocking it open. A hand seized her hair, a man leaned to her ear and said, "I'll show you what fairness is..."
"Your husband can sleep with you, so can I!"
"This is what equality means! You get it? Stupid woman stuck in the old era!"
Suddenly, the horses stopped moving. No matter how the drivers whipped, they refused to go forward. Following their terrified eyes, they saw Ryosuke blocking the road ahead.
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