Half a month later, on the southeastern border of the Land of Iron, in Sekikōjō City.
Sekikōjō City was a well-known major city in the southeast of the Land of Iron. It controlled a key transport route leading inland, its commerce was thriving, and its forging industry was especially developed.
What drew even more attention was that the city was jointly garrisoned by a "swordmaster" and a "general."
A swordmaster was a kind of professional title, but it belonged to the civilian sphere. It was usually bestowed upon those top-tier swordsmen whose swordsmanship had reached a consummate realm—those who had founded or mastered a certain school or style, and who had earned widespread respect in purely martial pursuits.
A general was also a professional title, but it placed more emphasis on military strategy, command ability, and meritorious service to the nation. Anyone who could receive such an honor had to be someone who had led large armies on the battlefield and achieved outstanding feats, or who had made exceptional contributions at the levels of national defense and strategy.
The two had different emphases, but there was no absolute superiority or inferiority between them. A general might also possess the martial skill of a "swordmaster," and a swordmaster in the wild might, in the future, enter official service and become a "general."
This touched on the Land of Iron's unique culture and power structure.
This country had no shinobi, and it did not even have a daimyō in the traditional sense. They revered the most classical spirit of bushidō, and the populace trained in all kinds of martial skills centered on swordsmanship.
Those who trained in martial arts but did not hold public office were called "swordsmen"; those who entered service to the state and joined the power structure were called "samurai."
The entire national bureaucracy was built by these samurai.
At the apex of the samurai stood the nation's leader—the "Commander," the supreme head of the samurai.
The Commander was not hereditary, but was held by a samurai whose strength was outstanding, and whose virtue and prestige were sufficient to command the masses.
The current Commander of the Land of Iron was precisely the legendary figure who, in the Second Shinobi World War, bravely led the samurai to resist the invasion of Hanzō of the Salamander—Mifune.
Not long after the Second Shinobi World War ended, he was elected Commander due to his extraordinary merits and lofty reputation.
Barring any accident, over the next twenty years, the Land of Iron would move forward under his guidance.
And on this day, inside the lord's manor of Sekikōjō City, the city lord Takeda Nobutsuna—who held the post of general—delivered a briefing to Yagyū Sōichirō, the chairman of the Sekikōjō City Swordsmanship Association and the swordmaster of the Seishin Meichi-ryū.
"Where did this rule-ignorant blockhead come from?" Sōichirō set down the briefing, and his brow immediately furrowed.
The contents of the briefing were very simple. In summary: a young swordsman who called himself "Isshin" had, for some time now, been challenging others everywhere as if he did not know fatigue. Starting from Tetsu Town, he had gone north all the way—Iwanari, Aotani, Kurobane, Shirataki… More than twenty dōjō across eight towns had already been visited by him for matches.
Now, his trail was pointing toward Sekikōjō City.
"This blockhead called Isshin—what's his background? Which school does he come from? Who taught such a reckless junior?" Sōichirō asked in a low voice, his tone carrying obvious displeasure.
Such high-profile and continuous kicking of dōjō was rare and discourteous in the swordsmanship circles of the Land of Iron, which valued etiquette and lineage.
The city lord, Nobutsuna, shook his head. "His background is unclear. We only know that he claims to use the Ashina style."
"Ashina style?" Sōichirō searched his memory and confirmed that he had never heard of such a lineage in the Land of Iron. His brows furrowed even more deeply. "Unknown origins?"
"Indeed, no roots can be traced," Nobutsuna continued calmly. "However, the swordsmanship he uses is indeed the orthodox samurai kenjutsu of our kind. His foundation is solid—certainly not some wild path. Perhaps he is the disciple taken in by a samurai while traveling abroad, or the inheritance of some old fellow who has lived in seclusion for many years. Such things have not been without precedent."
Upon hearing this, Sōichirō's expression eased slightly, but the doubt in his eyes did not completely dissipate.
Even if his lineage might have some connection, such conduct was far too ostentatious.
He looked at the name Isshin on the briefing, as well as the list of defeated dōjō that followed, and lightly tapped his fingers on the table.
"It seems he intends to carve out a name by stepping on the reputations of others," Sōichirō's voice grew colder. "Since this blockhead is about to reach Sekikōjō City, then according to the rules, someone should teach him what kenjutsu is—and what reverence is."
Hearing this, Nobutsuna instead smiled. "He should indeed be properly taught the rules. However, Sōichirō…"
He changed his tone. "According to reports from the various halls along the way, though this boy acts rashly, he is indeed young, and both his talent and strength are of the highest tier. For such fine material, if after teaching him a lesson we simply let him drift away—or form enmity—it would be a pity."
He lightly tapped the briefing with his finger and continued, "What I mean is, after he has been taught a lesson and understands his place, perhaps we could try to recruit him. If he is willing to abide by the rules, with his skill, he could represent Sekikōjō in the next National Swordsmanship Tournament."
"Hmph. Then he must first pass my hurdle before anything else," Sōichirō said in a tone that allowed no doubt, carrying the unique pride of a swordmaster. "Rules are rules. Since he chose the most arrogant path, he must be prepared to bear the heaviest lesson. As for whether he can be used afterward, and how, that is a matter for later."
He slightly raised his hand, as if grasping something in the air, and the aura around him abruptly grew heavy and condensed. "My iron staff will naturally make this blockhead properly understand what it means to calm the mind, and what it means to be enlightened."
Although Sōichirō enjoyed the reputation of a swordmaster, his primary weapon was not a blade, but an exceptionally heavy custom-made iron staff.
The so-called "Seishin Meichi-ryū" referred to the fact that with a single strike of his staff, he would give the opponent a "sudden awakening."
Whether one could truly comprehend the Way was another matter, but the effect of making one see stars and instantly "calm the mind and gain clarity" was widely acknowledged to be immediate. That was how the Seishin Meichi-ryū came by its name.
"So be it." Nobutsuna smiled and shook his head. "Then let us first see whether this young swordsman of the Ashina style can withstand your strike of enlightenment."
...
Several days later, Sekikōjō.
The midday sun shone upon the towering city gates and the streets paved with bluestone, casting a warm hue over this stronghold famed for its forging.
A figure moved against the flow of the crowd and stopped at the city gate.
It was a youth of unusually great height and imposing build, his back straight as a pine—none other than Isshin, who had come north all the way from the southern border.
As usual, he planned first to find a tavern or marketplace to inquire who here was the strongest.
However, just as his foot stepped into the shadow of the gate passage and before he could take in the sight of the city, a group of people surged forward along the main street.
They were all dressed in uniform dark dōjō robes, moving swiftly with hostile eyes—clearly having waited for some time.
They quickly spread into a semicircle, blocking Isshin's path. A sharp-featured disciple at the front stepped forward, chin slightly raised, his tone carrying undisguised arrogance: "You're that Isshin, aren't you? My sensei wants to see you!"
Isshin's gaze swept over the group of dōjō members who were clearly ill-intentioned. His expression did not change; he merely asked calmly, "Who is your sensei?"
The disciple straightened his chest, his voice booming like a bell: "The foremost master of the staff in the southeastern Land of Iron! Chairman of the Sekikōjō Swordsmanship Association! Founder of the Seishin Meichi-ryū! The one who once drove back a mountain flood with a single strike and single-handedly guarded Danryūkyō! Granted the title of Iron Gall by the General himself! The swordmaster whose fame resounds throughout the southeast—"
"Stop, stop!"
Isshin made a gesture to cut him off. He pointed to the not particularly wide street just inside the city gate at his feet.
"There isn't room for this many people here."
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