Chapter 112
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: To Mikawa (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Hah."
The merchant, gripping a crude dagger in one hand and staring blankly ahead with dazed eyes, could only gape in a stunned expression as he muttered to himself.
"...What the hell is this."
He had approached Il-yeong for reasons other than what he'd blurted out loud.
The other merchants might not have noticed, but he was different—he was the sort who often heard how sharp-eyed he was.
These ronin felt different from the ones he'd met before.
It wasn't just about wearing shabby clothes.
He couldn't see the faces of the ones called Shiroi and Momomaru, but even from their lower halves alone, there was an undeniable air of nobility they couldn't hide.
...And his suspicions turned almost to certainty right after their conversation.
Despite the money he offered being far less than the usual fee, Il-yeong had accepted it without complaint.
In other words, this wasn't someone who'd made a living as a ronin before.
'The one who looks like he'd fight the best. Of course that was a lie.'
It had just been flattery to butter him up.
A merchant like him, who'd never fought in his life and only carried a cheap dagger to protect himself, how could he judge a ronin's strength?
All he'd hoped for was one thing.
'He looked like he had something special, so I thought I'd build some rapport...!'
And wouldn't it be even better to get protection from those who seemed like his bodyguards too?
But when the man—who looked like he'd been raised in luxury except for his sturdy build—suddenly drew his sword and stepped forward, the merchant could only agonize over whether to stop him.
Before he could even speak up, though, he spotted a burly brute charging at the man in blood-soaked armor, and the merchant instinctively sensed death was coming and squeezed his eyes shut.
...It was only natural.
Samurai and those high-ranking daimyo were oblivious, but anyone who'd lived as a bandit for long knew they became experts at killing and tormenting humans.
—Grrrrk!
But his thoughts were shattered the moment Il-yeong slew the hulking bandit in a single stroke.
No, that wasn't all.
"Hup!"
Il-yeong deflected the follow-up attacks, harvesting lives from the bandits before they could react—not just him, but the other ronin as well.
Of course, their true identities were samurai of the Hirate Family.
There was a difference in skill level.
The bandits had mostly cut down clumsy ronin who'd barely learned the sword or peasants armed just to protect themselves.
To them, bandits were objects of terror.
But to samurai who'd survived countless battlefields in recent years, drenched in enemies' blood, the bandits' movements were nothing more than flailing—worse than even average ashigaru foot soldiers.
"Gahk!"
"W-What is this?!"
As if to prove it, the bandits' numbers dropped from over thirty to just over twenty in an instant.
In contrast, not a single ronin guarding the merchants had fallen—not even the merchants themselves.
"Wh-What the hell?"
"Are those really ronin?"
The overwhelming difference in prowess left both bandits and merchants unable to hide their bewilderment.
But that shock didn't last long.
"K-Kill that big guy first!"
Soon, one bandit pointed at Il-yeong—who was effortlessly carving through them—and gritted his teeth as he shouted. Several better-armed bandits than the rest immediately targeted him, swinging their weapons.
"Die!"
A thug wielding something vague between a spear and a glaive swung a long arc at Il-yeong's shoulder.
But in that instant, Il-yeong sidestepped with just two steps and called out.
"Momomaru!"
"Hah!"
At Il-yeong's shout, Momomaru—Akechi Mitsuhide—leaped forward, gliding across the ground like silk to slash the man's waist.
"Gahk!"
The abdomen housed countless organs, so even a small wound could be fatal.
The bandit panicked and tried to block, but a mere thug could never parry a strike from Akechi Mitsuhide, trained by the warriors of the Saito Family.
"M-My waist!"
Blood poured from the gap in his crude armor, and he gnashed his teeth in pain and shock as his lifeblood drained away.
But just as he tried to thrust his spear at Il-yeong again without retreating—
"Hah!"
Il-yeong closed in before the man could recover his stance, smashing the sword hilt into his jaw.
—Thwack!
"Guh!"
With a dull thud, the bandit's vision shook, and in that moment, Il-yeong twisted his grip on the sword and whispered to him.
"Farewell."
"W-Wait—!"
No matter how desperately the bandit cried out in fear of death, it didn't reach him.
—Stab!
Il-yeong plunged the blade precisely into the gap in the armor, then twisted it diagonally through the heart before yanking it free.
"Grrrk..."
Blood from the pierced heart bubbled back up through his mouth, and Il-yeong shook off his sword lightly as he withdrew it.
In the meantime, Il-yeong's guards hadn't been idle either, so the bandits' numbers dwindled further—now fewer than twenty.
On their side, the only casualties were a few merchants with minor scratches from failed dodges and the genuine ronin.
"...Wh-What."
"..."
Silence fell, as was only natural.
How many here could have predicted this turn of events?
Thoughts raced through minds.
"Hah."
The merchants marveled at the caliber of ronin Ikoma had assigned them while wondering if they were really worth such treatment.
"Wh-What the hell kind of ronin bastards..."
The bandits, crushed so utterly by masterless wanderers who hadn't even pledged to a daimyo, could only reel in helpless shock.
And at that moment.
—Swish.
Il-yeong pulled his hood deeper over his head and spoke to the bandits.
"Well."
Blood speckled his jawline, trickling down his slender chin, as he flashed a chillingly deep smile.
"Decide."
At the same time, Akechi Mitsuhide signaled the five guards who'd followed her, and they slowly advanced to stand by Il-yeong's side, having slain their share of bandits.
"Surrender, or die."
Roughly twenty bandits against just seven ronin.
Anyone watching might decry the ronin's disadvantage, but the bandits standing before them could only tremble under the forced choice.
And finally.
"W-We surrender."
The bandit leader-looking thug was the first to drop his katana to the ground, ending the ordeal in just ten minutes.
*
The bandits were bound with ropes from the merchants' supplies and handed over to a nearby village, wrapping things up neatly.
Someone suggested killing them all, but Il-yeong smiled faintly in opposition, and the idea sank instantly.
It was only natural.
Though hired help, everyone—merchants and ronin alike—had witnessed Il-yeong's prowess firsthand.
The other merchants weren't fools either.
They couldn't fail to notice that Il-yeong and his accompanying ronin were anything but ordinary.
Of course, Il-yeong paid no mind to the shifted atmosphere. He excused himself to the merchants, saying he had questions for the apparent bandit leader, and dragged the man into the woods.
—Crunch.
Il-yeong led the scruffy-bearded man deep into the forest.
The man, glancing around nervously, asked Il-yeong as cautiously as he could.
"Wh-Where are we going?"
"Shut up."
But in that instant.
Il-yeong's words were a cold, chilling warning—far from the gentle plea for mercy moments before.
"...Yes."
Was this how prey felt before a predator?
Even a bandit chief who'd killed and plundered countless times could only tremble and nod.
How much farther did they go?
Il-yeong stopped at a spot sufficiently far from the merchants and drew his sword from his waist with a shing.
Blue steel gleamed.
"...Spare me!"
The bandit chief dropped to his knees like he'd never dreamed of banditry, slamming his forehead into the mud.
The thawed, muddy ground dirtied his face, but he didn't care.
Saving his neck right now—that was all he wanted.
"Hah."
Il-yeong couldn't help but scoff at the sight. A man who'd robbed and murdered others was now begging shamelessly for his life—it was utterly repulsive.
—Swish.
Il-yeong's blade touched the neck of the prone bandit.
"I'm going to ask you some questions now."
Suppressing the urge to behead him on the spot, Il-yeong continued. And sure enough—
The man nodded frantically in response.
"Understood! I'll answer everything I know!"
It was a pathetically servile cry, unfit for his burly frame. Il-yeong stared at him with contempt but posed his question anyway.
"Tell me everything you've heard about the Mikawa situation, even the smallest rumors. If your info's valuable, I'll let you live."