Chapter 154
Translator: penny
Chapter: 154
Chapter Title: Hachisuka Band (2)
...
Let's think this through.
What exactly are bandits?
As I mentioned before, no matter how you dress it up, at their core, they're all about plunder and murder.
Nothing strange about that.
Historically, most bandit groups or thieves were formed from the oppressed lower classes who'd been exploited by the elite. Their focus was on banding together to strike back with force and reclaim what they saw as their plundered wealth.
In that sense, well...
The actions of this group that ambushed the Ikoma caravan and me right in front of my eyes deviated wildly from that basic premise.
If they were furious at being exploited by nobles, it would make more sense to just kill everyone outright.
'If it's about money, like Ikoma said?'
Hmm.
Even assuming they were after ransom as she claimed, it still didn't add up. From the start, capturing people who might resist fiercely and would be a hassle to handle wasn't appealing merchandise.
Typically, kidnapping targets were either nobles who could pay high ransoms for specific reasons or easy-to-manage children. The worst sorts might snatch decent-looking men or women to sell as sex slaves.
But this band calling themselves the Hachisuka Gang outright defied all conventional wisdom.
'Capturing all these people as hostages?'
Anyone with half a brain could see how utterly inefficient that was with even a moment's thought.
Even allowing for a mixed-gender bandit group made up mostly of men—no, even then—the decision to capture everyone alive without killing anyone made no sense.
In a situation like this, it would at least be understandable to go after someone who looked like noble spawn, like me, or Ikoma Kitsuno, the head of the Ikoma caravan.
No, it was practically a given.
She and I, being nobility or loaded with cash, made prime trading goods. Even as slaves, our good looks would ensure a solid buyer base.
But what about the rest?
Obviously, they weren't worth a dime.
No need to even mention my escort samurai.
The ronin helping guard the caravan.
Each had their reasons, but most were in dire straits—barely able to feed their families without the caravan's pay.
They sure as hell didn't have the means for ransom, and even if they did, it'd be more trouble than it was worth compared to just killing them and looting their gear.
"Urk!?"
"Hngh!"
Yet the female bandits of the Hachisuka Gang held back from lethal strikes against them, targeting thighs or arms mostly. Only in unavoidable cases did they aim for the chest, where death was less likely.
'If they really meant to kill, the gut would be far easier.'
The chest around the heart wasn't entirely safe, of course, but a gut stab could kill instantly if it hit wrong.
And these women seemed acutely aware of that.
'Weird. Unless they have some other goal.'
This was anything but normal.
That's why Il-yeong whispered lowly to the Hirate Family samurai gathered around him—Itsuki and Akechi Mitsuhide.
"Break through and target their leader."
"A sound plan, my lord."
Normally, young master.
In battle, my lord.
Il-yeong smirked at Itsuki's tone, which strictly separated public and private.
"I'll follow."
Akechi Mitsuhide, standing beside him, nodded with her signature silver-pink eyes glinting. Without a word on who went first, Il-yeong surged forward.
Tat-tat-tat!
Stones kicked up under their sprinting feet as the moonlight shining down on the chaotic clearing swayed eerily.
"Hup!"
His target was none other than the woman with dark purple hair, almost certainly the Hachisuka Band's leader.
"How dare you!"
The bandits naturally realized their intent and moved to block Il-yeong and the samurai, but they soon faced harsh reality.
"Kyaaak!"
"Gurgle..."
...The vast gap between these frontline samurai and themselves.
He dodged an extended blade and hammered her gut. At some point, Il-yeong's sword had gone back into its scabbard.
Thus, the blade that had greedily drunk the blood of countless warriors didn't so much as nick a drop now.
"M-monster—!"
And though he hadn't even drawn his sword or donned flashy armor, Il-yeong's unstoppable charge through their ranks inspired not just fear, but awe.
"Don't fall behind!"
"Follow my lord!"
Meanwhile, the Hirate samurai trailing him had sheathed their blades, subduing foes that way.
"D-does this make sense?"
"...A-ah."
Even the bandits facing the merchants finally grasped the situation and hesitated.
It was only natural.
There were barely ten samurai including Il-yeong, while the caravan ronin numbered over thirty—a threefold numerical edge.
Yet those ronin had been helplessly captured over halfway, while the samurai weren't even breaking a sweat defending, let alone getting taken.
'No, "pressed to defend" doesn't even cover it—.'
Was it even defending?
One nameless female bandit from the Hachisuka Gang retreated step by step without realizing it, lost in such thoughts.
And small wonder...
"Kyaha!"
"C-crazy bastard! Gahk!"
Itsuki, eyes wild, had ditched his sword somewhere and was precisely jabbing the solar plexus with a bandit club meant for captures.
"Hah!"
"Gack—!"
Akechi Mitsuhide kept more dignity than Itsuki but showed no mercy, striking throats to drop them.
Yet despite the impressive prowess of these Hirate samurai, most bandit eyes were fixed on Il-yeong.
...No surprise there.
Leading the charge, Il-yeong's presence was simply too overwhelming.
"A-ah."
Itsuki and Akechi Mitsuhide's group at least wore armor—they were escorting Il-yeong, after all.
Not Il-yeong.
Heading to the capital to deal with nobles, he wore fine silk with only light armor underneath, barely qualifying as such.
"D-die!"
Lethal intent wasn't absent.
Whatever values or rules they held crumbled easily under pain, proof in the not-infrequent attacks aimed at Il-yeong.
Yes, they came.
But Il-yeong's expression remained utterly calm.
'Amateurish. Laughably so.'
With lowered eyes, he parried their strikes, countering occasionally, swallowing such thoughts. Though outnumbered, having clashed with them repeatedly, he'd long gauged their average level.
'Like Owari ashigaru before the wars. Rarely killed anyone. Some systematic training, but meaningless. An insult to compare to current Owari ashigaru.'
Comparable to—or a tad better than—pre-war Owari ashigaru mocked as mere spear-wielding farmers.
Of course, against overwhelming numbers, it wouldn't matter. But his instincts, honed through countless battles since arriving in this world, told him otherwise.
No bandit hesitating near him now could land so much as a scratch.
That realization drew a wry smile from Il-yeong.
'Not surprising.'
How many samurai had died by his hand? Three figures at least. And many weren't bandits but rigorously trained ones.
Il-yeong earning the moniker "Owari's Night Fork" was no fluke.
Thwack!
He slammed Onimaru Kunitsuna's scabbard into another bandit's gut and shifted his gaze.
'Hachisuka, Hachisuka...'
Repeating the somehow familiar name in his head, trying to recall.
'Wait. Come to think of it—.'
And just as a thread of memory connected...
"Eek! Fall back!"
The woman with the massive spear beside the presumed Hachisuka leader bellowed.
"I'll handle this one, Itohime!"
"Ah."
Only then did Il-yeong pinpoint the familiarity, letting out a quiet sigh.