My Gang of Swordsmen

Chapter 91: Chapter 72: On the Eve of the Storm, the Great Battle Approaches! (Part 1)

On the first day the convoy left Fujisawa Inn, the weather was still good.

But by the second day, the weather suddenly worsened.

Before dawn, the sky and earth were filled with thick, dense clouds.

By around 10 AM, large snowflakes began to flutter down.

Sharp, cold winds cut like knives, lifting the falling snow and swirling it everywhere.

More and more snowflakes fell, swirling into a chaotic mess, turning the view into a gray mist.

The carriages could barely push forward against the heavy snow and cold wind, but the guards led by Oomura were incapable of enduring such a snowstorm with their mortal bodies.

Anthony couldn’t treat the guards borrowed from the Osaka Castle Governor as if they were slaves.

Thus, with no other choice, Anthony had to instruct the convoy to halt and wait for the storm to subside before continuing.

While Aoto and his group had to stop due to the snowstorm—

Swish... Swish... Swish...

On a high slope some distance from Aoto’s convoy, sounds of snow being rubbed and trodden resounded intermittently.

Two samurai, wearing straw hats and raincoats, lay prone on this high ground.

Their attire and swords were all ”dyed” white by the falling snow.

They stared intently at Aoto’s convoy in the distance, only moving when they were about to be ”buried” by the accumulating snow to shake off the snow covering them.

Noticing that Aoto’s convoy appeared to have stopped, the two widened their eyes and stared intently at the convoy’s movements.

After confirming the convoy had indeed stopped, they exchanged looks.

After a silent exchange of gestures and glances, one of them stayed on the hill to continue monitoring the convoy, while the other tightened his hat and raincoat and left.

The samurai who got up and left sprinted with open legs, heading towards the distant forest in a mad rush...

...

...

Within the forest, Mogami sat kneeling with eyes closed, a string of Buddha Beads hanging from his clasped hands, his lips moving softly as he recited Buddhist scriptures.

His beloved spear, Wind Cut, rested at his side.

In front of him, upon a half-human-high boulder, stood a nearly 30cm tall statue of Niō, standing tall with an angry glare at the mortal world below.

This statue of Niō was forcibly given to Mogami by his mother five years ago when he left home to passionately dedicate himself to the ”Anti-foreigner Cause.”

Don’t forget to worship every day! This statue of Niō was obtained from the temple! It’s very effective! As long as you worship daily, it will definitely protect you—these were his mother’s exact words back then.

Mogami wasn’t particularly interested in deities and spirits.

But alas—he had always been the type who couldn’t defy any of his mother’s wishes since childhood.

Even if uninterested in spiritual matters, he could only pinch his nose and respectfully worship the statue of Niō daily, as his mother instructed.

Little did he know, Mogami later discovered in surprise—his mother might not have been speaking nonsense.

This statue of Niō seemed quite effective! During his involvement in the ”Anti-foreigner Cause,” Mogami experienced multiple life-threatening crises, but each time he managed to avert disaster and survive.

Escaping death repeatedly made Mogami start to waver: could this statue of Niō truly be magical?

Ever since he began having such suspicions, Mogami put away any disrespect towards the statue his mother had given him, devoutly worshipping it twice a day, once in the daytime and once at night.

Up to this day, worshipping this statue of Niō had become part of Mogami’s daily routine.

After concluding today’s ”daytime worship” and opening his eyes, Mogami suddenly heard Yamada’s voice from afar:

”Mr. Mogami! Mr. Mogami!”

Yamada hurried to Mogami’s side, breathlessly speaking hastily without catching his breath:

”Due to the snowstorm, Anthony’s convoy has stopped!”

A sharp glint burst from Mogami’s eyes.

”They’ve stopped...! Keep monitoring the convoy’s movements!”

”If the convoy moves, notify me immediately!”

”Yes!” Yamada responded loudly, exhaling deeply and patting his chest, ”Mr. Mogami... an excellent opportunity has arisen...”

”Hmm... indeed.” Mogami nodded with a slight grin, ”If they don’t move before noon... then they absolutely won’t reach the post station before nightfall.”

”So, they’ll have to camp outdoors tonight.”

”Yamada, please inform everyone: eat well today! Prepare for battle!”

”If they don’t move before noon, then... tonight’s the night!”

Mogami’s hands, naturally by his sides, were now tightly clenched.

Standing before him, Yamada also felt his breath quicken with tension and excitement...

...

...

The swirling snowfall finally began to taper off by 1 PM.

To make up for the time lost waiting for the storm to pass, Anthony immediately urged the convoy to speed up as soon as they could move again, hoping to reach the post station before nightfall.

Anthony’s attempt was destined to be in vain.

It was easy enough for the carriages to speed up, but for the guards who had to walk on their two legs, speeding up wasn’t so simple, regardless of their determination.

Ultimately—Anthony had to give up the impractical goal of reaching the post station before dark.

As the sky began to darken, he directed the convoy to settle on a relatively flat clearing by the Tokaido roadside, setting up camp to spend the night outdoors.

”Looks like it might snow again...”

Aoto, standing in a corner of the camp with Saito, tilted his head to gaze at the night sky overhead.

Tonight was a moonless night.

Though the snowstorm had completely abated, the thick cloud cover hadn’t dispersed.

Layer upon layer of clouds obscured the moon and stars.

With such thick clouds, snow could fall again at any moment.

The current time... was probably just past 7 PM.

Camping outdoors naturally didn’t offer lavish meals.

Even Anthony and Elodie could only nibble on dry rations to hastily finish their supper.

After dinner, the guards led by Oomura began to get busy.

Some stood guard, some managed the camp, others rested.

As someone considered Anthony’s guest, Aoto was naturally spared from heavy, tiring tasks.

Thus, after a simple, boring dinner, Aoto, with nothing to do, found himself lounging in a corner of the camp with Saito, practicing his Swordsmanship.

Chat with Saito?

No way!

Chatting with him was no different from chatting with the big stone next to them; there was no difference.

After gazing up at the night sky and musing over the evening weather, Aoto refocused his mind, gripping his sword tightly to practice the Suburi—a routine practice he couldn’t go a day without.

Swoosh...! Swoosh...! Swoosh...!

The sound of his blade slicing the air, along with his breath, were the only sounds around Aoto.

But suddenly, a young voice broke the silence around Aoto:

”Mr. Tachibana! Are you practicing swordsmanship?”

A bright streak of pale gold appeared at the corner of Aoto’s right eye.

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