The wind of late summer, Year 1501, drifted softly through the courtyard of Oden Castle, carrying the scent of pine and warm soil. Two months had passed since the day Mamoru first began training under Oden, and though he had grown stronger—his stance sharper, his spirit steadier—he still had much to learn.
Most days, he remained at the castle under Oden's supervision, refining his Observation Haki. Twice, he had returned to Ringo, visiting his father and helping with the shrine repairs, sharing stories about Oden and the samurai of Kuri. But he always returned, driven by a quiet fire.
Observation Haki still slipped from his grasp more often than not. At times, he'd sense Oden's intent before a strike, and other times, he'd be completely blindsided. Yet, Oden never seemed disappointed—only amused, like watching a cub learn to bare its fangs.
When he wasn't training with Oden himself, Mamoru sparred with whoever among the retainers was free—Kin'emon with his fiery swordsmanship, Denjiro's precise cuts, or Kawamatsu's flowing movements. From each, Mamoru absorbed what he could, shaping himself bit by bit into something new.
This morning, Mamoru sat beneath a sprawling maple tree at the edge of the yard. Yoriichi, his carefully tended wooden practice sword, rested across his lap as he polished it with a soft cloth. The wood glowed faintly under the sun, worn smooth by his endless hours of training.
Footsteps approached lightly from behind.
"Mamoru," came a cheerful, familiar voice.
He looked up to see Hiyori walking toward him, her long green hair swaying. She carried something folded in her hands. Without saying a word, she sat beside him, her small feet swinging above the grass.
"I made something for you," she said, smiling .
Mamoru blinked, caught off guard. "You did?"
She nodded, holding up a scarf, woven from soft yarn the same shade as her hair. "Mother helped me. It took a long time, but… I wanted to make you something."
Before he could reply, she leaned closer and carefully wrapped it around his neck. Her fingers brushed against his collarbone, and the faint scent of flowers followed her movement.
Mamoru blinked, tugging at the scarf awkwardly. "It's… not even that cold," he muttered under his breath.
"I know," Hiyori giggled, "but you'll need it when you go outside the castle or train late at night. If it gets damaged in a fight, I'll make you another one, so don't lose it, alright?"
Mamoru gave a small, embarrassed smile. "Alright. Thanks."
Hiyori grinned and nodded proudly.
From the engawa, Lady Toki watched the entire exchange with a quiet, knowing smile as she sipped her tea. Her eyes glimmered mischievously. She was the one who had given Hiyori the idea, even knitting most of the scarf herself. To her, it wasn't merely a gesture ,it was a carefully placed piece on her invisible board.
4D chess, she thought with quiet satisfaction.
A sharp voice broke through the peace.
"Haaa!!!"
Toki turned her head toward the sound.
In the training yard, Momonosuke swung a wooden sword under the blazing sun, sweat glistening on his brow. Kikunojo stood behind him, gently correcting his stance, guiding each movement.
"Haa!!" the young heir shouted again, his determination shining through each swing.
Ever since he'd seen Mamoru's relentless training, he had taken it upon himself to begin his own practice. Every strike, every swing, was fueled by admiration—and the faint, flickering pride of wanting to be just as strong.
At that same moment, inside the courtroom of Oden Castle, Oden stood before his retainers, his chest bare, his aura burning like a bonfire.
"Listen up!" he announced, holding both Enma and Ame no Habakiri proudly. "I will now teach you my techniques Oden Two-Sword Style! I have deemed you all worthy to inherit my secret arts!"
His words hung in the air, and every retainer stood at attention.
Kin'emon's eyes widened, awe shimmering in them.
'A fool like me… learning Lord Oden's two-sword style?' he thought, tears threatening to spill. 'When we first met, he had every right to turn me away. But instead… he made me a samurai. And now, he is imparting his secret arts to me! There is no greater honor!'
He clenched his fists and, unable to hold back, shouted, "I shall inherit your will, Lord Oden! Thank you for choosing me!!"
The field went silent.
"...Hey!!"x4
Kin'emon blinked, looking up to find every single retainer glaring at him.
"Uh… yes?" he asked, confused.
"Why," said Denjiro, his face dark, "did you just assume Lord Oden was talking to you?"
Kin'emon blinked. "Because he was? I'm his most adept disciple, after all!"
"According to who, exactly?!" Denjiro shot back. "If anything, you're just his first disciple ,which means we're tied!"
Kikunojo stepped forward, folding her arms. "Neither of you show proper reverence! I am the only one who treats his techniques with the respect they deserve! I should be the one to inherit them ,so back off!"
"Respect?" Raizo scoffed, flicking his sleeves dramatically. "No one respects Lord Oden more than I do!"
"But you use shuriken, not swords!" argued Kawamatsu said "It should go to a swordsman like me!"
Dogstorm barked, "But you already have your own style! Lord Oden's techniques should be passed to me, to represent the bond he shares with the minks!"
"Oh please!" Cat Viper retorted instantly. "You're a terrible representative of our people. He should teach me!"
Dogstorm's ears twitched. "What did you say, you flea-bitten—!"
"Silence!!" Kin'emon bellowed, stepping between them. "It should go to whoever loves him the most! And that's me!"
The erupted erupted.
In an instant, the retainers were at each other's throats, a wild brawl breaking out as dust filled the air.
Outside, Momonosuke continued practicing, paying them no mind as their muffled voices echoed in the distance.
"I wholeheartedly disagree! I love him the most!"
"My love is pure! Don't question me!"
"Mine is purer!!"
"I love him most!!"
Momonosuke finally stopped, sweat dripping from his forehead. He turned to see the retainers standing stiffly again, weapons sheathed, faces composed ,though their hair was disheveled and their clothes were covered in dust.
He stared for a long moment.
Then turned back around.
The brawl resumed immediately.
"It's me!"
"No, me!!"
"Me!!!"
"ME!!!"
Momonosuke spun around again, exasperated. "It should be me!"
Instantly, the retainers froze and saluted in perfect unison. "Right you are, my lord! Sorry!"
Oden, watching the chaos unfold, clapped his hands together. "Hey! Are you ready? Your Oden Two-Sword Style training begins today!" he declared excitedly.
Kin'emon groaned, brushing dust off his haori. "We'll pass, my lord," he muttered, turning away with the others. "We each have our own styles ,we'll keep it that way."
Oden blinked, watching them leave. "You don't mean that!"
They didn't answer.
"But ...but it's my secret technique! It's powerful! You really don't want to learn?"
Silence.
Finally, Oden threw his head back and roared, "Get back here!!"
From beneath the tree, Mamoru sighed, sweatdropping. Couldn't they just all learn it?
Few days later
The world shifted. The sky was dark and heavy with mist. Two men faced each other on a barren plateau surrounded by cracked stone.
One man had white hair, tied back and flowing in the wind. His posture was calm, composed, yet resolute.
The other had black hair, eyes sharp and burning with anger.
Steel clashed in the dim light.
"You chose to desert?" the black-haired man spat, their blades locked together. "You disappoint me, Tengen."
Their swords screeched as they slid apart, both moving with deadly precision.
The sound of steel on steel echoed across the silent field .
It was Father against son
Authors note :
And so we kick of to the next arc