After arranging internal security and defenses, Hane Genma immediately set out, ready to leverage his strengths to exploit the enemy's weaknesses.
Truth be told, he was immensely relieved that he hadn't followed the orders of Kikyo Castle's daimyo, Date Toyosaka, to attack Reito Castle back then. At the time, he didn't know that Reito Castle's shinobi were from the Akimichi Clan. If he had accidentally assassinated one of their kin, how could they ever be friends?
Now, he planned to return the courtesy to Reito Castle.
Sending a declaration of war was a bit foolish, in Genma's opinion. He wasn't sure if it was the idea of Reito Castle's daimyo or the Akimichi Clan, but either way, their thought process was bizarrely unique.
Since the other side was preaching "martial virtue," Genma decided he'd outdo them in that regard. Honestly, he had planned to be the one to preach martial virtue first, but they'd beaten him to it.
Under the cover of night, he dashed toward Reito Castle once more.
Meanwhile, at Reito Castle.
Three Akimichi Clan shinobi were meeting with the daimyo of Reito Castle.
As it turned out, the oddball thinking didn't come from the Akimichi Clan. While the Akimichi weren't known for scheming or subterfuge, that didn't mean they were clueless. They understood that shinobi thrived in the shadows, where a single strike could be lethal.
"My lord daimyo, since we're planning a military operation against Kikyo Castle, why would you so blatantly reveal our intentions? A declaration of war only puts the enemy on high alert," the lead Akimichi shinobi said, his tone tinged with exasperation.
He was an exceptionally burly man. If the Akimichi Clan were likened to, say, bears, this guy would be the equivalent of a mother bear capable of birthing a dozen cubs in one go.
His voice carried a hint of frustration because he genuinely couldn't fathom what the daimyo was thinking.
Was this some kind of tactical micro-management? Did the daimyo, who wasn't even bald, somehow possess battlefield finesse?
"Haha, I just thought it's been a while since we've engaged in any external military action, so I wanted to add a bit of ceremony," the young daimyo said with a laugh.
This daimyo had a carefree, almost whimsical personality. How to describe him? He seemed like the type who acted on a whim.
But contrary to his outward demeanor, he wasn't a fool, nor was he truly reckless. In fact, he was incredibly shrewd, and his actions were always purposeful.
His declaration of war had a serious underlying reason.
Moreover, he knew his shinobi well and had little faith in the Akimichi Clan's ability to infiltrate covertly. In the process of gathering intelligence on Kikyo Castle, the Akimichi were far more likely to get caught than to succeed unnoticed.
The daimyo had reviewed the Akimichi Clan's report on Kikyo Castle's military strength, and to put it mildly, the intelligence was rough around the edges.
"For the upcoming battle, please, my lord, don't interfere. You don't understand warfare, and your involvement will only backfire and cause chaos," the lead shinobi said.
"Alright, alright, I get it, I get it. I won't meddle again. I'll leave the rest to you," the daimyo replied.
The young daimyo lounged in his chair, unfazed even by his subordinate's direct criticism, responding with a casual chuckle.
Honestly, if this man dropped dead right now, you could carve the word "gleeful" on his forehead. He was either extraordinarily clever or utterly absurd.
The three shinobi exchanged a few more words, securing full control over the battle plans and extracting a firm promise from the daimyo not to interfere. Only then did they leave the keep.
These three were brothers from the Akimichi Clan: Akimichi Jinsei, Akimichi Kigetsu, and Akimichi Shingu. Jinsei, the eldest, was also the current clan leader.
After their battle intentions were unfortunately leaked by the daimyo's blunder, Akimichi Jinsei could only focus on arranging defenses to prevent a preemptive strike from Kikyo Castle catching them off guard.
His intentions were sound, but they were ultimately futile.
Even if the Akimichi Clan fortified the keep's defenses to be impregnable, in Genma's eyes, it was still riddled with holes. Aside from certain special barriers, no amount of physical fortifications or human patrols could stop him.
After all, they couldn't possibly stuff the walls with balls of yarn…
By midnight, Genma had infiltrated Reito Castle's keep.
He did a quick count and found ten shinobi stationed in the keep, all from the Akimichi Clan. With war looming, security was unusually tight.
In fact, the keep's defenses were far stronger than usual. The Akimichi Clan's total number of combat-ready shinobi barely exceeded twenty, and half of them were stationed here.
The Akimichi were indeed an elite minority. Their numbers were even smaller than the former Hanemiya Clan, which, at its smallest, could still form a village.
But numbers weren't everything. The Hanemiya Clan's combat strength was on an entirely different level compared to the Akimichi.
Following the principle of diplomatic reciprocity, Genma first slipped a reply letter into the daimyo's chambers. This was his second visit, so he knew his way around.
Then, he quietly approached the Akimichi shinobi on night duty, making subtle contact with each without raising suspicion.
After completing these tasks, he refrained from further action and withdrew from Reito Castle.
Next, he would return to Kikyo Castle to rest and prepare for the next phase of his plan.
After a peaceful night, the daimyo of Reito Castle, Shimizu Kisuke, woke up on schedule. Despite the impending war, he felt no tension, maintaining his usual routine.
That is, until he noticed the letter placed by his pillow.
A letter by his bedside? Who in their right mind would slip an envelope into the daimyo's bed?
After a brief moment of shock, he tore open the letter and skimmed its contents. His expression turned peculiar. For some reason, he felt an odd connection with this person who called themselves "Genma"—like they were on the same wavelength.
You sent a declaration of war, so I sent a reply, huh?
"Where are the shinobi on night duty? Call them all here. And summon Jinsei-san immediately," Kisuke ordered.
At his command, the ten Akimichi shinobi who hadn't yet gone off duty gathered before him.
Unaware of what had happened, the shinobi stood in confusion. Kisuke circled one of them and noticed a small red paper tag stuck to their waist.
"What's this?" he asked, peeling it off. It looked ordinary, harmless.
Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Check each other. Does anyone else have one?"
Sure enough, every shinobi had an identical tag. The discovery left them exchanging uneasy glances, a sense of dread creeping in.
The tags themselves were harmless, but their implications were deeply insulting.
Kisuke returned to his seat, placing the letter beside him. After letting the shinobi murmur among themselves for a moment, he spoke again.
"Last night, someone infiltrated the keep without a sound. They're incredibly skilled at concealing their presence. If they hadn't shown mercy, you'd all be dead."
Genma's sense of "martial virtue" had led him to place tags instead of blades. If he'd chosen to strike, none of these shinobi would have escaped his assassination.
"I'd be dead too…" Kisuke declared, then paused as a realization hit him. "No, I'd have been dead more than once by now. So that's what the rumors from Kikyo Castle were about. They weren't just baseless gossip."
The rumor that "a rogue shinobi from Kikyo Castle assassinated Reito Castle's daimyo" wasn't entirely false—it nearly became reality.
Because it didn't happen, Kikyo Castle's daimyo, Date Toyosaka, was the one who ended up dead.
Though Kisuke couldn't yet piece together the full logic, his instincts told him he was right.
He instinctively touched his neck, feeling as though Kikyo Castle's daimyo had kindly taken his place in the "head-removal" activity.
When Akimichi Jinsei arrived and heard a shinobi recount the events in the keep, he was horrified.
"So, the enemy infiltrated, didn't harm anyone, and then left? What are they playing at?" he asked, regaining his composure.
Could the daimyo's formal declaration of war have actually worked? Was the enemy being honorable because they were?
No, that wasn't funny.
Kisuke's expression grew even stranger. He pressed a hand on the letter and said, "Ahem… well… they want to challenge you to a one-on-one duel."
Jinsei blinked, grappling with the futuristic-sounding term. He understood it, but not entirely.
"A… duel?"
It sounded absurd. Was this still the shinobi world? A duel?
One-on-one fights weren't unheard of in the shinobi world, but they usually happened by chance when both sides only had one fighter. A one-on-one wasn't about fairness—it was just a failed group brawl because neither side had reinforcements.
The moment one side had numbers, they'd swarm without hesitation. A "duel" was an entirely different concept.
Wasn't war about using every ounce of strength available? Why a duel?
Kisuke picked up the letter again, not showing it to Jinsei but summarizing key points.
"Last night, the enemy infiltrated my chambers and left this letter."
"In it, they claim to be the leader of Kikyo Castle's shinobi organization, named Genma."
"Genma-san believes that both our side and the Akimichi Clan are small shinobi groups that can't afford the high casualties of war. Yet, since we must fight, he proposed a solution: a duel between the leaders to decide the outcome, sparing the clans from heavy losses."
"In short, this Genma-san seems very confident in his abilities… What do you think, Jinsei-san?"
"He… this… I…"
The proposal left Jinsei dumbfounded. In all his years, he'd never encountered something so bizarre.
Did Genma's words make sense? Sure, in an ideal world. But in reality, a single duel couldn't determine the outcome of a larger conflict.
How could the victor ensure the loser would honor the terms? The loser wouldn't accept defeat—they'd think their clan was still undefeated, and the duel would just spiral back into full-scale war.
Jinsei wanted to protest, but reality silenced him.
The enemy had shown mercy last night. If they hadn't, he didn't know how many of his clan would be lost. Refusing this seemingly childish duel would likely mean the enemy wouldn't hold back next time.
No matter how you sliced it, Genma's restraint last night was bafflingly unreasonable.
But agreeing to the duel…
As Jinsei hesitated, Kisuke cleared his throat and said, "I think we should accept their terms. Jinsei-san, you can fight with confidence."
Kisuke saw through Genma's game. The answer was right there in the open: Genma called himself the leader of a shinobi organization, not a clan.
Genma's strength might be formidable, but Kisuke was certain that even if Jinsei lost, he wouldn't be in mortal danger.
The Akimichi Clan was an elite minority with straightforward relationships and exaggerated combat prowess. For certain groups, they were an ideal target—almost like a first love, perfect and unattainable.
If you're fishing, you've gone overboard, casting your net right into my pond… Kisuke thought to himself.
Still, he had no intention of stopping Genma. For one, he was curious to see how this odd event would unfold. For another, even if he saw through Genma's plan, how could he stop him?
He was just a frail, helpless daimyo, powerless against an enemy shinobi.
"But…" Jinsei hesitated. Even if he didn't care about personal victory or survival, his loss would mean defeat for the daimyo and all of Reito Castle—an outcome too bitter to accept.
Kisuke waved off his concerns. "It's fine. Genma-san only proposed a duel to decide the outcome, not what happens after. He didn't specify what the victor gains or the loser forfeits."
"…"
Jinsei was speechless. After a moment, he said, "Is this guy a bit dim?"
Kisuke stared at Jinsei, then glanced at the Akimichi shinobi behind him.
Who's the dim one here?
He cleared his throat. "Ahem, for now, just fight!"
What had started as a serious situation at Reito Castle had been turned upside down by Genma's antics. No matter how much the Akimichi tried to stay vigilant, they couldn't shake the feeling that the war had lost its gravity.
Jinsei began to wonder if the so-called duel was a stalling tactic or some kind of psychological warfare to undermine their morale and resolve.
But he wouldn't have to wonder for long. The truth would soon reveal itself.
A day later, the agreed-upon time arrived.
Genma set out from Kikyo Castle toward the designated battlefield. Since it was a duel, he initially planned to go alone, but then he thought, as a leader, wouldn't it look too unrefined to show up without even an attendant? Wouldn't that make him seem easy to underestimate?
So, he brought Fuma Goro along as his "lackey."
Genma wasn't entirely sure if Reito Castle would accept his terms. Logically, they had little room to refuse.
If the Akimichi Clan rejected the duel, it'd be a bit like refusing a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit.
His act of silently placing tags on the enemy shinobi might seem like a joke, but he'd love to ask the Akimichi if they found it funny.
With Fuma Goro in tow, Genma arrived at the battlefield first, quietly waiting for the enemy.
After about half an hour, a group finally appeared in his field of vision. Compared to his team of two, Reito Castle's group was rather large—ten people in total.
So many? Are they planning to throw martial virtue out the window? That shouldn't be right.
Genma began to wonder if his intimidation two nights ago hadn't been forceful enough. I even gave up my best assassination tactics. Are you telling me the Akimichi, known for excelling in direct combat, are scared of a duel?
But as the group drew closer, his doubts eased, only to be replaced by new ones.
Judging by their gait, only six of the ten were shinobi. The other four were ordinary people. So, they're agreeing to the duel but keeping the option for a group fight? Then why bring civilians?
On the other side, Akimichi Jinsei, the leader, assessed Genma's side and paused to make arrangements. He left eight people on a nearby elevated position and approached with just one other.
Now it was two against two—perfectly fair.
Genma didn't wait for pleasantries. "What's going on over there?" he asked directly.
Jinsei opened his mouth, then sighed, bound by orders to tell the truth. "That's our daimyo, Lord Shimizu Kisuke. He's here to observe the fight."
"…"
Genma nearly choked. This daimyo was completely off-script. Wasn't he a bit too relaxed?
Weren't daimyo supposed to be paranoid, hiding in the safety of their keeps? Who just strolls onto a battlefield? The world was full of wonders.
With this fearless, thrill-seeking attitude, Genma couldn't help but feel a spark of admiration for the daimyo.
What he didn't know was that Kisuke had already guessed his intentions.
The daimyo was confident that Jinsei wouldn't face any real danger, and by extension, neither would he.
If there was no danger, why cower? Why miss the chance to watch the show up close?
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon:
pat reon .com/yuuwand