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At Kaido's command, the maid hastened in with an assortment of dishes. The room was soon filled with the enticing aromas from the delicacies presented on jade plates, which made saliva pool in the mouths of those present without their realizing. The long tables were quickly laden with food and wine, shining under the golden ceiling light, creating a festive ambiance for the banquet.
Outside, even the soldiers indulged in meat and wine, boasting freely and adding to the liveliness.
Kaido lifted his glass, followed by the other nine, as the vibrant yellow liquid sloshed within. Together, they toasted:
"Cheers!"
"Cheers~!"
The group drained their glasses with satisfaction, feeling the warmth from the alcohol spread through their bellies. Normally, Brother Kaido doesn't drink much with others, so they all wished for more moments like this one.
Black Maria picked up her glass once more, her black kimono slipping off her shoulders to reveal a glimpse of her white breasts. Her smooth, delicate skin shone as strands of her long golden hair fell forward. She gave Kaido a suggestive look and said:
"Alla~ Congratulations to Lord Kaido for becoming the general of Wanokuni and for ridding us of so many lurking foes. I toast to you once more~"
His gaze met her insinuating eyes, and without hesitation, he clinked glasses with her, taking a drink. Kaido knew that Black Maria, his exclusive paramour, wanted more than just a toast. Such an invitation was her way of inquiring if he desired her company that night. On this night of celebration, he certainly had no intention of refusing.
With a body that matched his preference, Black Maria's allure was known to all, though they pretended not to see it.
Setting his glass down yet again, a question rose in Who's Who's mind. Having once served as an operative for CP9, specializing in intelligence, he was aware of the challenges of unearthing spies buried in Wanokuni for numerous years. That Kaido had managed to catch them with such accuracy was astonishing.
"Where does Brother Kaido get his information?"
Kaido retorted, "What would a dead man tell me?"
"The precision of this intelligence would be invaluable during wartime, giving us a significant advantage. It would let us decimate and overwhelm our enemies. It's just unfortunate if it's merely personal intelligence," Who's-Who commented, almost believing Kaido had established an intelligence network rivaling CP9.
Yet the notion was hard to believe when compared to the capabilities the World Government had accumulated over 800 years. Even the Charlotte family, known for its top underground intelligence, couldn't match up to the government's reach.
Kaido spoke confidently, "As far as intelligence goes, I've got it under control. There's no reason to let the Marine have all the fun."
Who's-Who, trying to comprehend if Kaido was implying retaliation against the Marine for sending Drake, was momentarily lost for words. He mentioned the difficulty of infiltrating the tightly secured ranks of the Marine.
Kaido dismissed the concerns, "This matter remains between us for now. What you need to focus on is strengthening yourselves. As it stands, you're too weak."
The room fell silent, except for the clinking of glasses. The soldiers who hadn't spoken felt as though they'd been slapped - Kaido was clearly dissatisfied with their strength. A fire was ignited in each of their hearts. They had to get stronger!
"King," Kaido called out.
"Big brother!" came the swift reply.
"There are two more tasks for you to focus on," Kaido assigned.
"Just give the command," King said readily, as speed was his strength.
...
The following day dawned bright and clear.
Heavy rain poured down in the early morning, refreshing the air throughout Wanokuni, diminishing even the strong scent of decay in Jiuli. Still, a persistent sadness weighed on the hearts of the people in Wanokuni, a gloom not easily lifted. By the bridge linking the flower capital to Suzugo, a sizable crowd had formed, standing in silent anticipation for others to join.
Their attire included hairpins and samurai hairstyles, the fabric of their thin kimonos clinging to their forms, and distinct "moon" tattoos marking their ankles. They had been waiting for nearly an hour, which stretched past the agreed time from the previous night.
"How many people have arrived?" the man leading the group asked, no longer able to contain his impatience. The appointed counter responded with evident disappointment, "About 800 people." "So, does that mean 200 people have fled?" The leader's fists tightened, his knuckles whitening, a visible sign of anger. He cursed through gritted teeth, "Cowards! They're cowards! They don't deserve to stand with us!"
"It's a disgrace to the samurai! They should beg for the Kozuki family's forgiveness from the heavens!" "When we return, we will ensure they regret their decisions!" The leader's fiery words hung in the air, met with a heavy silence from the crowd. They understood the decision of the 200 absentees, having faced their internal battles before coming here.
A friend of the leader, a man considered a sage by many, stood up. With a calm demeanor, he attempted to soothe the majority's sentiments while keeping the group united. "Don't blame them. The situation is simply not in our favor, and some had no choice," he reasoned. "If there is blame to be placed, it should be on Kaido's strength; after all, even Lord Oden couldn't defeat him. Let's proceed to the first snow country."
These 800 loyalists had remained faithful to the Kozuki family even after Kaido's massacre. They clung to the Kozuki prophecy, hopeful that the six missing Red Scabbard Nine Heroes and the yet-to-return Momosuke would one day vanquish Kaido and reclaim their kingdom. They had gathered here seeking weapons to arm themselves for the impending war.
Just as the Kappa did thirteen years prior, they cast their eyes toward the tombs. "If we encounter the thief on the bridge who's been seizing weapons, we'll overcome him and take his. We cannot turn back now." With that, the leader guided the 800-strong toward their goal.
The group proceeded without speech, the only sound the crunch of their synchronized steps as they moved through the silence. Doubt lingered about the righteousness of their course. Shortly, they crossed the bridge without incident, stepping onto the snowy expanse. Gyūki Maru, the monk who had famously protected the bridge for thirteen years by robbing passersby of their weapons, was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the absence of weapons among them was the reason for his nonappearance, some thought.
Eventually, this stroke of fortune allowed them to press on toward the tombs unchallenged. A silent rush ensued, and the overwhelming expanse of snow dazzled their eyes with its blinding whiteness. They arrived at the frozen tombs where warriors of Wanokuni had been laid to rest amidst the northern ice and cold, only to find an unsettling absence.
"Where are the weapons?!" There should have been a sword before each grave, a testament to the fallen samurai's honor and glory. Yet now, there were none.