The Greatest Samurai in History (Part 2)
The Kasukabe Clan Manor was not as extravagant as the estates typically associated with high nobility. After all, the family held no grand prestige at court.
Yet if one were to ask whether these provincial rulers—masters of a sprawling expanse of countryside—were poor, the answer was an emphatic no. Furthermore, when it came to lining their own pockets, they had never once hesitated to squeeze the peasantry dry, heedless of the Buddha's teachings. Their storehouses were always bursting at the seams. In fact, bursting was an understatement; they practically overflowed, so much so that the storage within the estate walls had proven woefully inadequate, forcing them to construct auxiliary warehouses outside the grounds just to hold the surplus.
A clan of such immense wealth. Surely the lord of such an estate would have nothing to fret over, wearing an unbroken smile day in and day out.
"Grrrgh...!"
Contrary to all reasonable expectation, however, Lord Kasukabe Yuichiro was doing anything but smiling.
"You failed to deal with every last one of them?!"
His private soldiers had just delivered their report: they had allowed the bandit scum, brazen enough to covet his fortunes, to slip right through their fingers. Fine. That much he could have swallowed. As a generous and prosperous nobleman, losing his composure over a trifling theft would do no favors for his dignity. What truly made his blood boil, however, was the pathetic state of the surviving men.
"Our armor... sheared clean through by a blunt, chipped blade," a hollow-eyed soldier sat slumped before comrades who had missed the fray, muttering dazedly. "It was a piece of junk. Nicked and notched, the kind of scrap you could buy in the market for a couple of copper coins. You could tell even from a distance that it was rusted and battered."
The soldier hung his head. "And yet, it cut through heavy iron armor as effortlessly as tearing through a sheet of paper."
His hands trembled violently. Fear consumed him down to the marrow.
"That wasn't all... A dozen of us could charge at once, and a single swing would sweep everyone away...! It didn't matter if you held a spear or a massive iron mace...! Khh-urgh...!"
He clutched at his chest as if suffocating. The eyes of the men watching him seemed to reflect the nightmare of that day.
"There wasn't a single speck of blood on his blade...! That wasn't the martial skill of a mortal man... Yes. A God of War. He was a God of War incarnate!"
The listening soldiers gulped in unison. Terror was infectious.
Watching this display from across the courtyard, Lord Kasukabe felt his innards scorching with rage. "Useless wretches, the lot of you! Do you have any idea how much coin I poured into raising you dogs?! If those bandits attack again, you'll probably all turn tail and flee!"
Even so, he had no intention of falling for their absurd tall tales or trembling in fright.
"Hoh-hoh. My lord. Why all the ruckus?"
For a truly formidable warrior was currently residing under his roof.
"Ah, Sir Gensinsai."
As an old man with a worn katana slung at his waist strolled into view, the lord wiped the scowl from his face in a flash, replacing it with an ingratiating smile.
"There was a minor disturbance yesterday."
"A minor disturbance?"
"Bandit riffraff launched an assault targeting my storehouses. One among them wielded somewhat unusual martial prowess, and my men have grown cowardly."
"Oho." The old man stroked the hilt at his hip and inquired mildly, "Just how strong could he be to send so many soldiers scurrying?"
"According to my men's accounts, three collapsed with his first stroke, ten tumbled with the second, and his prowess was like that of a God of War."
At the lord's explanation, the old man's placid demeanor hardened.
"To bestow the title of God of War upon a mere mortal. Truly laughable."
"...I did not coin the term. Ahem. At any rate."
Spooked by the sharp edge in the elder's aura, the lord instinctively shrank back. Normally, Kasukabe Yuichiro was not the sort to tolerate anyone intimidating him, but the man before him was in an entirely different league. He had no choice but to walk on eggshells. To grow old in this trade meant one had survived; the elder standing before him was a legendary sword master who had once set the entire land ablaze with his renown. With such a legend dwelling as a guest in his manor, what cause was there to fear?
"Haha. By the way, Sir Gensinsai. I recently procured a rather exceptional male prostitute. If you would care to partake—"
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I must decline. I have never developed a taste for sodomy."
"Tsk. Well, if you insist."
The lord stepped back. Yet refusal on the first offer was a graceful virtue, and courtesy dictated asking a second time.
"Might your disciples be interested?"
"...Though a master may be as a father, the lads are grown men in their own right."
Gensinsai had no objection to him tempting the disciples, and the lord nodded in satisfaction. They were not quite their master's equal, but they were formidable swordsmen nonetheless. Sharing bedmates to cement their camaraderie was an excellent investment.
Gensinsai has one disciple who is renowned above the rest.
The fellow was somewhat loud-mouthed and pompous, but who cared? As long as a butcher knew how to carve human flesh, nothing else mattered.
Marrying off my daughter to him wouldn't be a bad idea either.
It would be a fine opportunity to dispose of that defective good who still hadn't married despite turning twenty.
Our fighting force numbered around twenty men. The enemy's garrison was undoubtedly several times that. Even an ounce of contemplation made the sheer disparity obvious. On top of that, we weren't on the defensive; we were the attacking force. Even Min-jun, an elementary school kid from the next neighborhood, could see how royally screwed we were.
But as an intellectual of the modern era, I knew that the outcome of war was never decided by mere numbers.
Admiral Yi Sun-sin repelled one hundred and thirty-three enemy warships with a mere twelve vessels. Zhuge Liang held back an army of one hundred and fifty thousand with only a handful of civilian officials.
The single most critical element in warfare was the commander. Did not Alexander the Great leave behind this famous maxim?
'An army of sheep led by a lion is far more formidable than an army of lions led by a sheep.'
A great man blessed with a moniker as ridiculously badass as "the King of Conquest" said so, which meant it was gospel truth. In any case, I had to win this battle and claim my quest rewards. And to emerge victorious from such unfavorable odds, an exceptional strategist was essential.
Today, I become a master tactician. A war hero who guides his forces to glorious victory.
"Hey, Sex. Listen up, I'm going to explain the battle plan."
"...My name is Tokiyasu, not Sex, Boss."
The strategy was simple: charge in, slice down everyone in our way, and call it a day. It was so laughably crude it was embarrassing to even label it a plan, but I stood tall. A man who doubts himself could never become a master general.
"How in the world is that a strategy? That's just throwing ourselves into a meat grinder."
Tokiyasu wasn't buying it for a second. Yet a true commander must always prove himself. Humbly accepting that reality, I resolved to demonstrate my peerless intellect and strategic genius.
"You're going to show me your strategy?"
"Indeed."
"By what possible means? The men haven't even recovered from yesterday's wounds, and they barely have the strength to fight as it is."
He wasn't wrong. Most of them were wrapped like mummies in tatty bandages. But a true commander simply transcended such petty hardships.
"Just watch."
I drew my sword. It wasn't the battered, rusted junk from before, but the fine blade I had looted after beheading the enemy commander. Katana in hand, I squared up before a massive ancient tree. It was so colossal that even the brawniest woodsman would click his tongue and abandon all hope of felling it.
"What are you planning to do?"
"Tactics."
With that declaration, I whipped the blade toward the towering trunk. Normally, the sword would bounce right off the dense timber or bite in only a shallow inch. What followed, however, defied all ordinary expectations.
Shiiing—
The giant tree began to tilt with uncanny smoothness.
THUUUUUM!
Having weathered centuries of harsh storms, the colossal oak crashed to the earth, leaving behind a cut as clean and mirror-smooth as polished glass. A behemoth that had stood for hundreds of years, toppled by a single effortless stroke.
"Behold: the Zhuge Liang of Japan. This is my strategy."
Overwhelming martial might can itself be a strategy. As a vague understanding dawned on him, Tokiyasu muttered in a daze, "...By the gods. Can this truly be the Sword Qi of a mortal man?!"
"It's not mere swordsmanship. It's the sheer power of my wisdom and intellect. Well? Impressed?"
"...I see. Indeed. Even if the enemy bars their gates and holes up inside, you can simply slice them open. If ten men block your path, you strike them down. Even if twenty appear, their courage will shatter at the sight of your might... It vexes me to admit it, but you are right, Boss. With martial prowess of this caliber, one truly has no need for tactics."
"What do you mean, no tactics? This is the tactic!"
"Let's just charge right in. I'm putting all my faith in you, Boss."
"Heh-heh. The decisive battle takes place tonight."
Tonight, I would become the great general who made the aristocracy tremble in their boots and whom samurai across the realm revered with all their souls.
"The ladies are going to swarm me."
A wild thought crossed my mind. If I somehow etched my name into history, would the protagonists of the future world recognize who I was?
Who knows?
Word had it that while climbing the Tower in the real world, methods to evolve one's awakened traits occasionally surfaced.
If I evolve my ability, maybe I can shift my perspective again.
Of course, that was a matter for the distant future. For now, my only priority was completing this quest and growing stronger.
Lord Kasukabe had a daughter. Blessed with peerless beauty, countless men flocked to sue for her hand in marriage. Yet even now, at the age of twenty, she remained unwed, having flatly rejected every single courtship that had come her way. The lord regarded this as an utter disgrace, primarily because he despised the reasoning behind her refusals.
"Even if you marry me, you will not inherit this clan. You must enter as an adopted son-in-law, and there will be none of the glory you imagine. Knowing that, do you still wish to take my hand?"
Those were the words she had posed before the dozens of prospective suitors who had gathered one day to see her. The prospective grooms had laughed, shouting in chorus:
"Of course! We gathered knowing full well! All to possess a maiden fairer than a heavenly fairy!"
"Become my woman! I'll pluck the very stars from the sky for you!"
"Just say the word! Whatever you desire, I shall buy it all!"
"I see." Shaking her head faintly, she looked down upon the men with frigid disdain. "I understand perfectly now. You are men who treat women as mere possessions."
In her eyes, they were nothing more than monkeys in heat. To be sure, she had not shunned marriage out of some petty distaste for men. She was neither ungrateful for the clan that had raised her, nor so ignorant as to be blind to how the world turned. Her sharp intellect was precisely the problem.
Women and men are both human beings of equal worth.
A woman could not hold government office. A woman could not possess personal wealth. A woman had to dedicate her entire life to serving her husband. Such were the values of the world she inhabited. Yet she harbored quiet discontent toward the so-called "natural order" that no one else ever questioned.
To put it plainly, she was a champion of women's rights—a feminist. Not the distorted sham tainted by bizarre modern ideologies, but the genuine article. Lately, however, a deep shadow of anxiety had fallen over her.
"It is such glorious weather. Would you care to take an excursion together?"
A man rumored to be the foremost disciple of an illustrious sword master had been persistently hovering around her.
"I am fine. I already went on a stroll this morning."
"Ah, is that so?"
The man beamed with an easygoing, friendly grin, but her gaze remained as cold as ice.
Just how long does he intend to cling to me?
He played the part of a gentleman, but having pondered women's dignity more deeply than anyone, she saw straight through him. She knew exactly how he viewed the opposite sex.
I only fear that Father will force me into marriage.
She had been able to delay marriage thus far because the previous suitors were mediocre at best. But her prime marrying age was all but exhausted, and by all accounts, this man was the crowning pupil of a legendary sword master. If her father commanded the union, she would have no choice but to submit.
Perhaps it is time I surrendered.
Abandoning hope might well be the easier path. An indefinite wait was a torment in its own right. Yet even so, she continued to hold out.
I do not ask for much... I only wish for someone who treats me as an equal human being.
A man who would truly understand her.