“Ahhhhh—!”

“What’s happening? What’s happening?”

“Run, run! It’s the ‘Expel the Barbarians faction’ people!”

…

Many surrounding citizens screamed and scattered in panic upon hearing the increasingly loud cries of “Divine Punishment” and seeing samurai drawing their katanas charging toward Aoto’s direction.

Some nearby stall owners abandoned their stands and fled to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

—Damn it, again?!

After being momentarily stunned by the sudden cries of “Divine Punishment,” Aoto immediately regained his composure and gritted his teeth.

Samurai suddenly appearing while shouting “Divine Punishment” and charging toward them—Aoto instinctively assumed these were more “radical Expel the Barbarians faction” members coming to assassinate him.

Aoto wasn’t someone who enjoyed cursing.

But at this moment, he couldn’t help but mentally unleash a torrent of profanity.

The frequency of attacks from the “radical Expel the Barbarians faction”—just days after the last incident—and their terrifying efficiency in tracking him all the way to Fujisawa-shuku filled Aoto with both fury and exhaustion.

—Have they been following me all along… or did they set up this ambush at Fujisawa-shuku in advance…

“Eek—!”

Aoto, who had been glaring at the approaching enemies, slightly turned his head to glance at the three women standing beside him: Kinoshita Mai and her companions.

The startled scream had come from the masked girl.

Kinoshita Mai’s face paled as she quickly pulled the masked girl behind her.

The “Pale Yellow Woman” in the light yellow kimono, who had remained silent until now, also moved to protect the masked girl. Like a mother bird shielding her chicks, she spread her arms and stood with Kinoshita Mai to form a protective barrier.

Aoto couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt toward these three women.

From their perspective, standing right beside him, these “radical Expel the Barbarians faction” members seemed to be charging directly at them. Their fear was completely justified.

That his problems were now involving innocent people—this guilt quickly transformed into anger.

With a face like dark water, Aoto drew his worn sword with a sharp “shing” sound.

“Saitō!”

Shing… Saitō, standing slightly behind and to the side, also drew his blade.

Whether they had been tracking him all along or had learned through some channel that Aoto would come to Fujisawa-shuku and set up an ambush—it made no difference to Aoto. The response was the same: draw swords and cut them down!

Without needing excessive verbal communication, Aoto and Saitō moved with perfect synchronization, launching forward like two arrows released from their bows, charging side-by-side toward this group of “radical Expel the Barbarians faction” members!

This attacking group consisted of four people—half the number from the previous assault.

Among these four “radical Expel the Barbarians faction” members, the one charging at the front was a short man who couldn’t be more than 145 cm tall.

In just an instant, Aoto closed the distance to where his blade could reach this short man—

Thud.

Aoto didn’t hesitate to raise his sword and slash downward, cleaving the short man’s skull open.

If possible, Aoto would have preferred not to target the head.

The skull was one of the hardest parts of the human body. Although Aoto’s worn sword was an exceptional blade with top-tier sharpness and durability, repeatedly hacking at hard skulls would significantly shorten its lifespan.

But there was no choice—the height difference between Aoto and this short man was nearly 30 cm. Being so much taller, a straightforward overhead “Split Mount Hua” strike was the most natural movement.

Aoto’s current swordsmanship also wasn’t refined enough to employ more technical methods to take the short man’s life.

In life-or-death combat, there was no room to worry about sword maintenance. Victory came first—a damaged sword could be repaired or replaced later, but a lost life was gone forever.

The sensation of cracking skull traveled continuously through the blade into Aoto’s palms.

Successfully killing one enemy—this should have been something to feel good about.

But at this moment, a trace of confusion appeared between Aoto’s brows.

He felt… an indescribable sense of incongruity…

The first point of incongruity was their attire.

Previous “radical Expel the Barbarians faction” members who attacked Aoto always wore straw hats with deep brims to conceal their faces.

Aoto had been focused on quickly dealing with these madmen who kept coming after him, so he only now noticed—none of these four attackers wore straw hats to hide their features.

Each one openly revealed their face without any attempt at concealment.

Aoto also noticed—all of them looked like impoverished rōnin.

So-called rōnin were samurai who had lost their masters to serve.

Losing their master meant losing their stipend and position, preventing them from holding office like Aoto, forcing them to find alternative means of survival.

These four perfectly fit the rōnin image—their bodies were filthy with grime so thick you could probably roll fist-sized dirt balls from it, their clothes so dirty the original colors were unrecognizable, their cheeks deeply sunken, eyes cloudy, appearing as if they hadn’t had a proper meal in ages and were severely malnourished.

If not for the swords at their waists, it would be difficult to distinguish them from beggars.

The second point of incongruity was the expression the short man had shown.

Though he only saw it for an instant, when Aoto’s blade split the short man’s skull, he faintly glimpsed an expression… of complete shock, as if the man never expected Aoto and Saitō to charge at them…

Saitō didn’t share Aoto’s attention to detail and didn’t notice these points of incongruity.

After drawing his sword and charging at these four men alongside Aoto, left and right, Saitō became completely focused.

Completely focused on cutting down enemies.

He truly lived up to being the bodyguard that Arima and others had spent heavily to procure for Aoto.

The refinement of his swordsmanship far surpassed what Aoto could currently achieve with his straightforward, “broad and open” style.

And the group they encountered this time was even weaker than the “radical Expel the Barbarians faction” members they faced three days ago.

Their steps were unsteady, their arms lacked strength.

This wasn’t surprising given their appearance of not having eaten properly in a long time—it was hard to imagine them having much physical power.

Charging into the enemy group simultaneously with Aoto, Saitō executed a kesagiri strike, slashing diagonally across one man’s body from right shoulder to left abdomen.

Then he slightly raised his blade tip to pierce another man’s heart beside him, and as he withdrew his sword, he swept it across a third man’s body. In just moments, he had eliminated the other three enemies for Aoto.

“Ahhhhh—!”

At that moment, a scream filled with terror pierced Aoto’s eardrums from behind him.

It was the masked girl’s voice.

Aoto quickly looked back—Kinoshita Mai, the masked girl, and the Pale Yellow Woman remained standing in place.

Before these three women, two additional samurai who had appeared from somewhere—also looking like slovenly rōnin—raised their gleaming swords and charged toward them…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep