Loud sawing sounds resonated throughout the military camp, but the males hesitated to investigate. Instead, they wore joyous expressions, despite still mourning the recent loss of their leader. (1)
The fact that the samurai, who had whipped them in the fields at least twice a month, seemed to be struggling, brought them a twisted sense of delight.
Lucy, however, walked up front with a genuine smile on his face.
'Sora, well done, I knew I could count on you to take down my cousin.'
Lucy had suggested the plan to lure Goro into a trap, and though Sora had initially shrugged it off, she ultimately had no plan besides his suggestion.
Lucy's smile faded, and he headed toward the military camp. The others snickered behind his back, ridiculing his decision to save the Tama Artists, who had treated him harshly in the past.
Undeterred by their taunts, Lucy pressed on, making his way through the vast wheat field. However, instead of the serene landscape he expected, he found a scene of utter chaos.
A group of shark-shaped leopards chased a girl with shoulder-length pink hair. Lucy swiftly threw his otsuchi at the leopard behind her, killing it with a single strike, before it came back to him like a boomerang.
He repeated this process, effortlessly dispatching the remaining stage 2 shark leopards.
Sakura gazed at Lucy with wide, tear-filled eyes, but he remained impassive, asking coldly;
"Where is Sora?"
Sakura was taken aback by Lucy's voice and could only point toward the other end of the camp, a distance of approximately 3.3 kilometers.
Lucy's expression turned sour, but he didn't hesitate. He slowly traversed the rice fields, navigating around a large well that resembled a river. As he approached the training ground, he found himself standing in deep mud.
"Where could that girl be?"
Lucy wondered, using his exceptional height to scan the rice field. He soon located a spot with a high level of commotion.
Lucy walked toward the commotion, calling out when he was within earshot, "Sora! If you can hear me, move to the left!"
However, instead of Sora's voice, a playful tone responded, "If you're really Lucy-san, then call me Sora-chan!"
Lucy clicked his tongue in annoyance and hurled his otsuchi to the left, clearing a path through the rice stalks and striking down a shark-leopard.
As Lucy approached the fallen beast, Sora emerged from the distance, her body covered in the blood of her enemies.
With a teasing glint in her eye, she said, "I see you're still wearing your hannya mask. I assume your battle was tough, but I doubt it compared to ours."
Lucy remained silent, handing Sora a bamboo book instead. Sora's eyes widened as she took the book, her fingers tracing the characters, made from blade marks.
A small mutter escaped her lips, "The Book of Five Rings." (2)
"Miyamoto-san left it in my armor during his final moments," Lucy explained.
Sora's steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. She believed that all lives lost in battle were equal, and that dwelling on one person's demise would be an insult to the others who had fallen.
She understood Lucy's intention in giving her the book, but before she could read the first page, Lucy suddenly attacked her using the claws of the dead shark-leopard, inflicting deep flesh wounds in her abdomen.
Sora shrieked in pain as she tumbled into the mud, her eyes blazing with anger as she looked up at Lucy.
However, Lucy simply smiled and flicked her small nose.
"If you want to fool someone into thinking you're hurt, use your own blood, not someone else's. That's the only way to prove your innocence."
On the eastern end of the camp, a group of mortal men had shed their masks, reveling in the chaos that had engulfed the camp.
However, one man sat apart, his silence a stark contrast to the others' celebration. The group assumed he was grieving Miyamoto's death, just like their seniors who had survived the battle. But Shinji's demeanor stemmed from a different reason altogether.
Shinji's eyes remained fixed on the book Miyamoto had handed him during their last meal together.
"Dokkodo, The Art of Aloneness." He muttered. (3)
His expression cold and indifferent.
'For someone like me, always surrounded by people, this book is useless.'
Shinji's thoughts drifted to the practicalities of the book's creation. 'Where did he even find ink in a place like this?'
He shrugged, storing the book away without opening it, perhaps to inspire a future poem.
As Shinji prepared to join the others, his gaze fell upon a disturbing sight in the distance. Katsura and his underlings rode toward the camp on a makeshift cart, accompanied by the camp's chefs.
The closer they drew, the darker his smile became, and a gleam of it reflected in his eyes.
His face, however, twisted in disgust, glaring at the group lounging on the ground with carefree expressions.
For the first time in his life, he cursed, "You bunch of idiots!"
The group's blithe demeanor faltered, taken aback by Shinji's outburst. He continued, his words laced with venom.
"You bunch of retard roaches!"
One of the seniors, a comrade-in-arms of the late Miyamoto, approached Shinji, a hint of a smile on his face.
"Junior, I know you're enraged, we all are, but there's no need to—"
The senior's words trailed off as Shinji's swift slap connected with his face. The group, taken aback by Shinji's disrespect, tried to intervene, but they too received harsh slaps. Some of them winced, on the verge of tears.
The group eventually banded together to restrain Shinji, but he roared at them, his face twisted:
"This is what your low-lives are good at! Always trying to suppress the weaker one among you! Your vision is diluted; you only look at the ground instead of the sky! One day you'll end up in the ground; there's no point in looking at it!"
The group halted, taken aback by Shinji's words. He continued, his voice filled with passion:
"Have ambition, dreams of gold! I know you're asking how we can have dreams of gold when we're suppressed left, right, and center. But what if I tell you that all that can start with a change today, and tomorrow will be brighter?"
The man Shinji had slapped first spoke up, his face flustered. "What are you trying to prove here? Your words are just as useless as trying to keep water in a container with holes."
Shinji's response was another vicious slap:
"Stop being hopeless! We are humans; hope is our trump card! Do you know why people prefer fabricated stories to reality? It's because fabricated stories make them envision someone they could never be, yet someone they desperately want to be."
The group stood frozen, then Shinji's words poured out like a torrent:
"When you dream, dream yourself as the king sitting on a throne, ruling this world. Cause ocean waves with just your words alone, and all those old castles and prejudiced churches will crumble with each step you take. They might be kings that will stand in your way, but somewhere down the line, those kings took out someone who sat on that throne. We are not born leaders; we make ourselves into leaders. To do that, we have to fight, even when the whole world goes against you. Keep fighting! Show the world the tale of someone they used to laugh at; be the one they all look up to!"
As Shinji finished speaking, the group's eyes blazed with determination. Unconditionally, they gripped the hilts of their katanas, watching as the house cart drew closer.
They couldn't stand its slow pace and charged forward.
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(1) Sawing sounds - noises made by leopards
(2) The Book of Five Rings - on Earth, it is something the sword saint, Miyamoto Musashi wrote himself over the course of his life.
(3) Dokko, The Art of Aloneness - it was the last masterpiece written by the Miyamoto Musashi before his death.