The samurai stood frozen, the two swords at his waist already clattering to the ground, his whole body trembling with rage.
"Bastard! You shameless ninja!"
"We agreed to cross swords—so why aren't you fighting fair?!"
The other five samurai halted as well, their gazes toward Kazuyama Gekkō growing darker by the second.
"What are you waiting for?! Take him down!"
"This is infuriating!"
But just as they moved to attack, all five realized something—
They couldn't move.
At some point, the pristine snow underfoot had been replaced with a flowing sheet of water, and their legs were now firmly bound in place.
"My samurai friends, I'm a ninja. A Water Release specialist, at that."
"And here, the terrain works entirely in my favor."
"You have my thanks—hahaha!"
Kazuyama Gekkō paid no mind to the murderous glares shooting at him through six gas masks, laughing to himself as if he'd already won.
[Ding! Detected: Host, utterly without morals, toyed with six samurai as if they were pawns, making them fully appreciate the shamelessness and roguish nature of ninja. Special reward: Strength +1.]
It wasn't much, but meat was meat—even a fly was worth eating.
Just as he finished subduing the six gate guards, footsteps echoed from the castle, followed by a calm but authoritative voice.
"Impressive Water Release, shinobi of Takigakure. May I ask your purpose in the Land of Iron?"
"Also, please release them."
The man approaching wore a long robe instead of armor, his head shaved clean, a deep cross-shaped scar etched over his right eye.
Kazuyama Gekkō grinned the moment he saw him—he knew exactly who this was.
Chōsuke, the famed iaijutsu master of the Land of Iron, and one of its top officials.
"Release them? Sure—once I meet your general."
"Unfortunately, the general is not in the castle right now. If you wish to see him, you'll have to wait a few days."
Mifune's not here?
Kazuyama's smile thinned. The Land of Iron wasn't that big, and samurai rarely traveled outside its borders. So where could Mifune have gone?
"So… will you release them now?"
"No. But you look like a man worth talking to—why don't I first test the edge of your blade?"
Chōsuke's face grew more severe, then—suddenly—he smiled.
From beneath his robe, a sword flashed into his hand, and in that instant his entire aura sharpened like a drawn blade.
Even Kazuyama Gekkō, with his current strength, felt a jolt of surprise at the sheer killing intent radiating from him.
He'd met many great swordsmen before—Sakumo Hatake, the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist—but the pressure in front of him now was fiercer than any of them. This was the refined edge of a man who had devoted his entire life to the sword.
"Since you insist on this attitude… I'll just have to cut you down."
"Land of Iron—Chōsuke! Prepare yourself!"
He bent his knees slightly, one hand gripping the hilt, his stance coiled like a predator ready to pounce.
Iaijutsu—also known as battojutsu—was all about the one-kill strike, seizing the perfect instant to draw and cut.
In Kazuyama's eyes, Chōsuke had become a sword about to leave its sheath, chakra already surging. Both his hand on the hilt and the blade at his waist were wrapped in that energy.
Kazuyama's eyes glinted with admiration. For pure swordsmanship, this was… formidable.
"Cut!"
Before he could even think of moving, Chōsuke's blade was already free.
With chakra-empowered legs, he closed the distance in a blink, sword flashing upward—
Clang!
Sparks flew as steel met steel.
"…Huh?"
Chōsuke stared in disbelief. He knew exactly how fast and how strong that strike was—he had put everything into it.
The polite approach hadn't worked, so he had held nothing back.
Yet the ninja before him had blocked it—cleanly.
And with what? A plain-looking sword… one he hadn't even seen appear in the man's hand.
"A heavy strike indeed. As expected from a samurai of the Land of Iron."
"Looks like this trip was worth it after all."
"I may not know sword arts, but fighting with a sword? That I'm good at."
Kazuyama still wore his easy smile—but he alone knew just how close that had been. His weapon was none other than the Kusanagi Sword.
And still… the opponent's blade hadn't broken. Even with chakra reinforcement, it was an ordinary sword. That alone was shocking.
"Good sword," Chōsuke admitted.
"Now tell me—what exactly brings you to the Land of Iron?"
Both men sheathed their blades. Sometimes, a single clash was enough to understand the other.
Chōsuke now knew the caliber of the man before him—but when had Takigakure produced someone like this?
"Haha, some things are better said when the general is here."
"So, Chōsuke, how about letting me stay as a guest in your castle?"
The fight was over—now it was time to talk.
Kazuyama casually released the bindings on the six samurai.
Chōsuke frowned slightly at the request, but seeing no further aggression from Kazuyama, he nodded.
"In that case, please come in… Suien of Takigakure."
Kazuyama laughed and strode forward, throwing an arm around Chōsuke's shoulder as if they were old friends.
"Brother Chōsuke, your sword skills are incredible."
"Think I could learn them?"
"Look—I've got a sword too."
"Don't worry, I never ask for lessons for free. Drink? I've got the best from every land!"
Chōsuke: …You get familiar fast.
Guarding samurai: …So we got beaten up for nothing?
Then Kazuyama pulled a scroll from his robe, unrolled it, and with a puff of chakra produced seven or eight bottles of fine sake.
They were speechless. He actually carried booze everywhere?
He handed each man a bottle, uncorked one for himself, and drank straight from it—the unspoken message clear: see? Not poisoned.
With Chōsuke leading the way, the patrols inside the castle were curious but said nothing.
After all, Chōsuke was second-in-command of the Land of Iron's samurai, just below the general. His word carried weight.
When they entered a certain large meeting room, Kazuyama narrowed his eyes.
This place looked familiar… The very same room used for the Five Kage Summit.
"Now then, Your Excellency—tell me your purpose here in the Land of Iron."
Chōsuke eased into a seat and fixed him with another steady look.
"Heh… just as I thought. The general of the Land of Iron never left at all."
"Am I right?"