Otaku Witch

She thought of the recent uproar on the island caused by the displacement movement.

Heh, I wonder what those outsiders are thinking, trying to distribute all the land equally to everyone. How is that even possible?

People are born to be divided into different classes, the strong should be on top of the weak, survival of the fittest, that's the eternal and unchangeable truth of this world. The idea of forcibly allowing the weak to enjoy the same treatment as the strong is just too stupid.

Heh, the land that should belong to the Chinese Clan Patriarchs, even if it were really given to those lowly village women, would they dare to take it?

They wouldn't dare.

Even if the Patriarchs voluntarily gave up those lands, with us watching, who among the lowlifes from the nearby villages would dare to really take it?

Those foreigners are ultimately outsiders; even after they've stirred things up, this Japan is still the Japan of the Chinese Clan Patriarchs. For those outsiders to make the whole island function properly, they must first heed the instructions of the Chinese Clan Patriarchs.

Despite the uproar caused by those outsiders a while back, even demolishing the Heaven's Guard Pavilion to build a toilet, some things cannot be solved by force alone. No matter how strong and arrogant they are, they need stewards to maintain control, unless they can kill all the Chinese Clan Patriarchs and replace them with these lowlives as stewards?

So, it's very stable. This demolition action is destined to be all talk and no action, unable to overturn Japan.

There is no need to fear the strength of those outsiders. Kawada firmly believes that the Chinese Clan Patriarchs will be the ultimate victors. As long as I perfectly execute the tasks given by the Patriarchs, I will be able to climb up step by step, possibly even establishing a new clan.

Haha, Kawada Family, that sounds great.

Yes, the world should be like this: with classes and disparities, people will be motivated to climb higher. Otherwise, if everyone is the same, what's the point?

The warrior witches drank heartily, each with a bright smile.

However...

"Knock, knock, knock..."

Suddenly, a knocking sound came from the door, bringing the lively banquet to a sudden halt.

Kawada looked towards the door, her expression somewhat puzzled.

This shabby village doesn't have a tradition of visiting late at night, and all her friends are here at the banquet, so who could be knocking outside?

But in her drunken stupor, she didn't think much of it, assuming perhaps someone in the village had an emergency and needed the help of this Samurai Patriarch.

Heh, that's a good thing; she's always willing to help, as long as the other party can afford her price for assistance.

Ronin Warriors in various villages are kings, and those who wield strength also wield everything.

The warrior witch waved her hand, and an invisible hand of magic opened the courtyard door.

Kawada, bleary-eyed from drink, looked outside and saw two figures standing there.

One wore red clothes and had red hair, with a cross-shaped scar on what was once a delicate face, while the other had black wings and wore black clothes, possessing a beauty so striking it was impossible to look away.

Upon seeing these two, Kawada immediately sobered up, with her magical power surging to quickly suppress her drunkenness before she cautiously eyed these uninvited guests.

Despite not recognizing either of the two, such beauty and poise clearly indicated they weren't locals from these remote parts.

When something is unusual, it must be a cause for concern; it's always safe to be cautious.

However, while she was alert, some fools couldn't see the situation clearly.

"Oh, two beauties coming to us."

"Hehe, so beautiful, are they courtesans from the Yoshiwara Flower District?"

"A dream, such a real dream, come, beauties, drink with me."

....

The warrior witches, overcome by alcohol, began teasing the two beauties at the door, some even staggering forward, reaching out to grab them as if to enjoy the company of both at once.

However...

The bright moon in the sky was suddenly covered by dark clouds. The pitch-black night should have been an impenetrable darkness, but a bright silver light rose from the ground, like moonlight.

"Ah… my King's Power…"

The warrior who had just stepped forward had fallen to the ground, her reckless hands now lying one on each side, having fallen at her feet. The warrior, having lost both arms, sat on the ground howling in distress, and the blood gushing from her severed arms stained the entire door frame red.

The pungent smell of blood also sobered the drunken warriors, and their companion's miserable state frightened some to the point of backing away, some even stumbled in panic.

But with Kawada stepping out, blocking them, the warriors gradually gathered themselves, each drawing their weapons before gathering behind Big Sister Kawada.

"I have no grievances with you two; why are your methods so ruthless?"

Kawada furrowed her brow, looking at the red-haired swordsman who had just struck, and asked.

As a legitimate inheritor of Shintō-ryū swordsmanship, Kawada could see the extraordinariness of that strike and knew this swordsman was a master of swordsmanship as well, so she held her patience, refraining from rushing into a fight.

Perhaps there was some misunderstanding.

However, in response to her inquiry, the cold-blooded swordsman said nothing, merely gazing at them coldly, as if speaking to them was a waste of words.

The swordsman simply crouched down slowly, one hand gripping her waist sword's sheath, the other horizontally poised in front of her chest, ready to draw her sword at any moment.

Kawada's gaze sharpened.

Upon seeing this cold-blooded swordsman's combat stance, she realized that it wouldn't end peacefully tonight, and she, too, placed her hand on the hilt of her waist sword.

The next moment.

Silver moonlight appeared again, but this time the sound of crisp metal clashing echoed in the sky.

Clang…

Kawada reached out to draw her sword to block the fierce strike, then smiled.

Although this person's swordsmanship was good, she, too, was not someone to be easily trifled with. After all, she was a legitimate Shintō-ryū graduate apprentice.

"Everyone attack together."

However, she had no intention of fighting this person one-on-one; she immediately called upon her sisters behind her to join in.

And the warriors, now coming to their senses, raised their swords and charged forward, surrounding the red-haired swordsman.

Yet, even faced with such a situation, this red-haired swordsman still did not flinch. Her delicate face showed no sign of panic; she merely glanced at Kawada with mild curiosity before finally speaking.

"Awaken, Red Shadow."

Then, the already exaggeratedly long katana in the swordsman's hand turned blood-red, wisps of blood aura seeped out from the blade, and a faint illusionary dragon roar echoed around her.

Her eyes also turned crimson, and in the darkness of the night, they glowed with a flame-like red light as the swordsman once again raised her sword.

This time, the Blood Moon hung in the sky.

The warriors surrounding the swordsman launched their attacks; however, the red glow moved gracefully among them, and the crimson sword in her hand drew blood-red light, moving like a wandering dragon.

However, every twist of this blood dragon's body was accompanied by a warrior's wail.

In the blink of an eye, the blood dragon had already emerged from the crowd, the red-haired swordsman stepped forward, leaping into the air, her arms crossed over her chest gathering force, while her right hand gripped the now blood-soaked long sword, the murderous aura seeping from the blade forming the semblance of a dragon head around her.

In front of the dragon head was Kawada, readying her sword to meet the attack.

"Roar..."

The ethereal dragon roar echoed through the night sky, and the night of this small village finally returned to its rightful tranquility.

The tall body of Kawada fell, sliced diagonally in two from the chest. She held a broken sword in her hand, her eyes wide open in disbelief.

She was dead.

And the cold-blooded swordsman gracefully performed a blood shake, spinning the sword in a flourish before sheathing it.

She calmly surveyed the bodies strewn across the ground, then took out an envelope from her bosom and tossed it onto the ground.

On the envelope, two large blood-red characters stood out.

Judgment.

...Justice in execution....