NOVEL NEXT Chapter 863
Chapter 15: The True Martial Home
“The battle of Sekigahara.”
It was a fight that split Dongyoung in half for the final supremacy of the Warring States era. When Toyotomi Hideyoshi seized control of the world, Tokugawa Ieyasu turned his eyes westward, focusing on expanding his influence even as his territory was mercilessly taken apart by Hideyoshi’s subordinates.
Then, the unexpected happened—Toyotomi Hideyoshi suddenly died. He had been diligently working for domestic stability, not even planning a campaign against the powerful Goryeo, yet he passed away out of nowhere. It was said that a strange light flickered above Fushimi Castle all day long, and ominous clouds rolled in, feeding rumors that turned the world into chaos.
After his death, it was reported that Hideyoshi summoned the Five Elders to oversee the care of his son Toyotomi Hideyori. However, the sudden nature of Hideyoshi’s death seemed to throw the Elders into disarray, and they didn’t take any decisive political actions for a while.
Years later, Tokugawa Ieyasu suddenly brought Toyotomi Hideyori and his mother Yododono to his residence in Sunpu, asserting the establishment of the new shogunate. Some of the Five Elders opposed Ieyasu’s plans, joining together with the daimyos nationwide to confront his power head-on. Thus erupted the great war known as the Battle of Sekigahara, dividing the forces into East and West.
But something felt off. Though Tokugawa Ieyasu had surrendered to Toyotomi Hideyoshi, he was an ambitious strategist who could never politically align himself with Hideyori, who was Hideyoshi’s child. They both harbored mutual hatred—a situation where nobody expected an alliance to ever be formed between them.
As a result, the people thought Ieyasu, with his true motives revealed, would engage with the well-grown Hideyori. However, unexpected events unfolded, leaving the daimyos of the Warring States period confused about which side to choose for a while.
“…So, I, Fuma Kotaro, leader of the Fuma Clan, received a request from Mori Terumoto, a great lord with a territory of 1.2 million koku and one of the Five Elders, to spy on Tokugawa Ieyasu’s movements on this battlefield. I must find out how Ieyasu and Hideyori were able to join forces!”
Miyamoto Musashi rubbed his ears.
“……”
“So, let me go, kid.”
A young man in his early twenties, dressed in a dark cloak, was desperately hanging from a tree branch. His name was Fuma Kotaro, the leader of the Fuma Clan, renowned for elite ninja abilities.
Caw – Caw –
The sun was setting.
Surrounding them was a battlefield soaked in blood. After intense clashes, hundreds of corpses lay scattered from both East and West forces. Crows perched on the bodies, pecking at their eyes, while the stench of decay and excrement permeated the air. Amid the gruesome traces of battle, only Fuma Kotaro and Miyamoto Musashi breathed alive.
Zing!
Upon locking eyes with Musashi, Fuma Kotaro felt his heart sink.
‘Such… a terrifying gaze.’
He couldn’t believe it. Despite appearing frivolous, he was a high-ranking ninja and successor who had endured intense training in the Fuma Clan. Yet the boy before him seemed to grow stronger with each enemy he defeated, effortlessly overpowering Fuma Kotaro in just 50 seconds.
At least he achieved a hundred kills!
What was with that gaze?
Fuma Kotaro had seen countless warriors in his life, but Musashi’s eyes felt inhuman. The pure killing intent was as if it could shatter anyone’s heart, devoid of any emotion. Even seasoned veterans had never encountered such a look.
Holding his iron sword, Musashi finally spoke.
“That’s not my concern.”
As Musashi’s sword tip edged forward, Fuma Kotaro panicked.
“Wait, wait! I’m a high-ranking ninja. Aren’t you interested in extracting information from me?”
Instinctively, he sensed that his opponent didn’t belong to any faction. Despite wearing the Eastern army’s headband, it meant nothing. Musashi had cut down friends and foes alike, and Fuma Kotaro had witnessed it all. He realized Musashi didn’t join the fight for status.
Musashi was insane.
To slaughter without discrimination was madness!
And an enemy without desires was the worst kind for a ninja. An enemy devoid of greed would mercilessly take lives, while ninjas must cling to their missions till the end.
‘Damn! This mission is a high-stakes one for my clan. I can’t die until it’s over…’
Hence, instead of throwing clichés like “go ahead and kill me,” Fuma Kotaro found himself outright begging for his life. He was a ninja, not just any warrior.
“Information….”
Musashi hesitated.
“Yeah, information! I may not be as knowledgeable as Hattori Hanzo, but I know quite a bit.”
“…… ”
After a moment, Musashi spoke again.
“Do you know about the Lunar Kill Technique?”
“……”
Fuma Kotaro looked utterly perplexed. Seeing that expression, Musashi lifted his sword, and Fuma Kotaro yelled desperately.
“Wait! I might know something…
Why the rush, kid? It’s possible to not think of everything at once!”
“You mentioned Hattori Hanzo. Does he know more than you?”
“I just meant it as a metaphor… If I put my mind to it, I could find out anything.”
“Do you know about the Lunar Kill Technique?”
“Err, truthfully, it’s my first time hearing of it!”
Flustered, Fuma Kotaro finally said something resonant.
“Right! If I haven’t heard of it, then it must be a legendary school of swordsmanship! I know a specialist about that—it’ll help you. So let me go!”
“……”
So they were talking about Honganji.
Miyamoto Musashi contemplated, his gaze fixed on Fuma Kotaro. After a moment, he swung his sword, slicing through the rope binding Kotaro. Fuma Kotaro quickly rolled into a protective posture, showcasing the skills of a genius ninja as he evaded the rope. In fact, he could have escaped while hanging, but he had been cautious of Musashi’s proximity.
Miyamoto Musashi coldly said, “Take me to that priest.”
“Huh? Right now?”
“Immediately.”
“Ugh…”
Fuma Kotaro grimaced. It wasn’t hard to lead him, but during the Sekigahara campaign, those moments felt critical. He needed to gather information quickly, not waste time going to Honganji and back!
At that, Miyamoto Musashi remarked, “Are you bothering me? What’s your mission?”
“Ugh… I already told you.”
“Right. I need to find out Tokugawa Ieyasu’s true intentions?”
“Precisely. That’s why I’m spying on the battlefield.”
“Let’s go.”
“……?”
Thud.
Miyamoto Musashi began to walk away. Fuma Kotaro stared at him in bewilderment, then shouted, “Wait! You can’t mean…”
“Shut up and follow me.”
A wicked glint shone in Musashi’s eyes.
“We’re going to Tokugawa Ieyasu.”
“……!!”
“You’ll hear what he has to say directly.”
Is he insane?!
Is he really going to face the one closest to unifying the world right now? Even amidst this colossal battlefield of Sekigahara?! With at least 100,000 soldiers providing guard?
Fuma Kotaro smacked his lips and shouted, “Got it!”
If that arrogant little brat stirs things up, it’ll work in my favor!
He didn’t take Musashi’s crazy words too seriously. What mattered most was that he was free, and now that he was out, he could escape whenever he wanted.
However, soon, as he watched Musashi swing his sword in the thick of battle, he was overcome with awe.
Swish!
“Graaarrk!”
“Gaaak!”
A bloodstorm erupted. Musashi wielded his sword without any formal style, yet every swing was infused with refined sword energy, toppling elite soldiers honed in countless battles within a second.
He was truly a dominator of the battlefield!
Typically, in the Warring States, about ten lower-level soldiers would form a unit, and those Ashigaru were quite battle-hardened. Thus, even seasoned warriors would retreat when facing three squads of Ashigaru. Those trained soldiers were nearly like exceptional mercenaries, adept in warfare, and many high-ranking warriors had fallen victim to their underestimated numbers.
However, Musashi charged into any Ashigaru unit without hesitation, and with every attack, heads would fly with their iron helmets. None could withstand even a single second against Musashi’s swordplay.
Thud thud!!
Ashigaru attempted to shoot him with firearms from all corners, but bizarrely, Musashi dodged their shots as if he saw their trajectories beforehand. Even when bullets zipped right past him from behind, Fuma Kotaro, watching from afar, muttered in awe.
“Mind’s Eye….”
An extraordinary state that only a few of the greatest swordsmen had mastered! In that moment, Fuma Kotaro suddenly realized why none of his shuriken, daggers, or secret arts had even scratched Musashi during their previous 50-second face-off.
‘That kid… has grown even stronger than before. He is thriving amid the slaughter of war!’
Indeed, when Musashi first entered the battlefield, he hadn’t been this powerful. Yet fighting, surrendering himself to an imperceptible flow, he continued to refine his skills. Though it had only been six days since he joined the conflict, Musashi had entrenched himself in an endless cycle of bloodshed, day and night without proper rest. This extreme environment was guiding him to a new realm.
The Demon Mask revealed itself.
As Musashi broke through the chaotic battlefield, both East and West forces stared dumbfounded at the blood path he carved through. Just moments before, they had been slaughtered, yet now, they couldn’t comprehend the entity they had faced.
And when Fuma Kotaro, who was lagging behind, finally caught up to Musashi—
Yikes!
Fuma Kotaro felt an overwhelming aura and quickly hid. He then noticed a senior warrior standing tall on the battlefield, emitting intense killing intent as he tracked Musashi’s movements. Fuma Kotaro recognized that face.
‘Ono Tadaaki of the Seven Spears!!’
This monster is here?!
This was also critical intel because Ono Tadaaki was known as one of the strongest swordsmen of the Warring States; unlike others, his unmatched skill had never been replicated. This madman, reputed as the “Mad Sword,” was so fearsome that a ninja clan that once spied on him had been wiped out.
One man against a thousand soldiers!
Thud!
Ono Tadaaki moved with a grace reminiscent of clouds. His movements were a product of structured martial techniques—precise and elegant—as he seamlessly vanished from sight, heading in the same direction as Musashi.
‘Hehehe…’
Fuma Kotaro felt a thrill and slowly trailed behind them.
The Mad Sword and the Minor Evil Ghost.
It was sure to become an intriguing encounter that would make him forget about the Fuma Clan’s mission for a moment.