Chapter 242 The Last Samurai Spirit

A light snowflake fell from the sky of the Iron Kingdom.

Mifune stood on the city wall, tightly holding the intelligence scroll that had just been delivered.

The parchment trembled slightly between his fingers, not because of the cold, but because the content written on it was too horrifying.

"The Hidden Cloud Village... is completely destroyed."

He repeated the words in a low voice, as if to confirm their reality.

In the distance on the training ground, the shouts of warriors brandishing their swords could be faintly heard.

This was in stark contrast to the tragic scene described on the scroll—sixty thousand Kumogakure ninjas were reduced to ashes by the attack of Yuxi, the god of physical techniques.

"General!" The deputy general quickly climbed up the city wall, his armor making a crisp clanging sound as he ran. "News has come from the border outpost. The Hidden Cloud Village is indeed... no longer in existence."

Mifune didn't look back, but just put the scroll into his arms.

His gaze passed over the continuous walls of the Iron Kingdom and looked towards the snow-covered mountains in the distance.

There, once stood the Hidden Cloud Village, one of the five major ninja villages.

"Call all samurai." Mifune's voice was eerily calm. "Men, women, young and old, anyone who can handle a sword, gather in the central square."

The deputy general's pupils suddenly contracted: "General, what do you mean..."

"We only have two choices." Mifune finally turned around.

There was a fire in his eyes that the deputy commander had never seen before. "Die on your knees, or die standing."

Three hours later, in the central square of the Iron Kingdom.

Forty thousand warriors lined up in neat rows, their iron armor gleaming coldly in the winter sun.

The front row was composed of elite samurai troops, the middle row was composed of civilian samurai, and the back row was composed of the elderly, women, and underage children.

They held all kinds of weapons in their hands - from famous swords made of fine steel to kitchen knives, and even spears transformed from farm tools.

The square was completely silent, with only the whimpering of the cold wind blowing through the gaps in armor.

Mifune stood on the high platform. His figure seemed a little thin, but his aura was as majestic as a mountain.

He did not use any amplification device, but his voice was like a loud bell, clearly reaching everyone's ears.

"The Hidden Cloud Village no longer exists." Mifune's words exploded among the crowd like thunder.

People's faces turned pale in an instant, and a sense of depression spread among the crowd.

But surprisingly, no one made a commotion.

The warriors still stood as straight as pine trees, their eyes fixed firmly on Mifune.

Mifune placed his right hand on the hilt of the knife at his waist. His movements were slow and powerful, as if the knife was a part of his body.

He paused, his eyes scanning every face in the audience, seemingly meeting everyone's gaze.

"The power of the God of Physical Arts, Yuxi, is far beyond our imagination." Mifune's voice continued to echo in the square.

There was an unspeakable heaviness in his words. "We once thought that our warrior ways were enough to resist all enemies, but now it seems that we were too naive."

His voice gradually rose, filled with grief, anger, and determination. "The Land of Iron is a land of warriors. We don't have the chakra of a ninja, nor do we have bloodline limits. We only have the swords in our hands and the souls in our hearts!"

"Now, the gods want us to kneel down. Tell me, can a warrior's knees bend?" Mifune's last words were like a volcanic eruption, stirring up a thousand waves in the crowd.

"No!" Forty thousand people roared in unison. The sound was like an overwhelming tidal wave, shaking the pine trees around the square so that snowflakes fell from them, as if the whole world was shaking at their shouts.

"The next target of the God of Taijutsu, Yuxi, is our Iron Nation." Mifune drew his sword.

The tip of the knife pointed to the sky. "I, Mifune, hereby swear: If the Iron Kingdom falls, I will commit seppuku!"

There was a sound of gasps from the audience.

Seppuku - the noblest way for a samurai to die, but also the most painful end.

"But!" Mifune's voice exploded like thunder. "Before I commit seppuku, my sword will drink the enemy's blood! Even if the enemy is a god!"

A deafening roar broke out in the square.

The elite warriors in the front row slammed their scabbards against the ground.

The people in the rear raised their weapons, whether they were famous swords or farm tools.

"A warrior can be killed but not humiliated!" shouted a white-haired old warrior.

"A gentleman can be killed but not humiliated!" the crowd echoed.

"Mortals are not afraid of God!" A young boy with a childish face screamed and raised his hatchet.

"Mortals are not afraid of God!" The voices grew louder and louder, echoing among the mountains.

Mifune watched this scene with tears in his eyes.

He held up his sword, and the blade shone like the Milky Way in the sunlight.

"Prepare for war!"

Following this order, the Iron Kingdom began to operate like a sophisticated machine.

The blacksmith shop was open all night, and the sound of hammering continued; women hurried to make war flags and bandages; children helped sharpen knives and serve water.

Even the most mercenary businessmen donated their entire stocks of steel.

As night fell, Mifune gathered the commanders of the various units in his dojo.

Under the candlelight, he unfolded the map of the Iron Kingdom.

"We can't contend with Yuxi's power." Mifune's finger traced the mountains and valleys on the map. "But the Iron Country is mountainous. We can use the terrain to our advantage."

"Sir, you mean..." A young commander's eyes lit up.

"Disperse the ambushes and block them layer by layer." Mifune nodded. "Every mountain peak and every valley will make her men suffer."

The commanders looked at each other, but soon, a fire of determination burned in everyone's eyes.

After the meeting, Mifune remained alone in the dojo.

He took down an antique sword from the knife rack. The scabbard was wrapped with a faded purple ribbon.

"Father..." he whispered softly, slowly pulling out the blade.

Even after many years, the blade still shines coldly without a trace of rust.

"At sunrise tomorrow, the entire army will attack," Mifune announced to the empty dojo, as if reporting to his ancestors. "The warriors of the Iron Kingdom would rather die standing than live on their knees."

Outside the dojo, the snow had stopped.

The night sky is dotted with stars and is extremely bright.

Mifune looked up and suddenly remembered what his father had said when he was a child: every star is the soul of a warrior, and the darker the moment, the brighter they shine.

At this time tomorrow, how many more stars will there be in the sky of the Iron Kingdom?

Mifune didn't know the answer.

He only knew that when the sun rose again, forty thousand swords would be unsheathed and forty thousand throats would roar at the same time.

Even when facing a god.

In the distance came the sound of a child reciting the samurai code, childish but resolute: "The sword may be severed, but the will cannot be taken away; the body may be destroyed, but the soul cannot be humiliated..."

Mifune closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth slightly raised.

enough.

This kind of awareness is enough.