The remaining samurai froze for a heartbeat after witnessing their captain lose both eyes and another comrade have his spine shattered in an instant.
That single heartbeat…
Was all Unkawa needed.
BAM!!
The force of his punch scattered the falling rain into a spray of droplets with an explosive crack.
His body plunged from the air like a hunting hawk, moving in a way that defied common sense.
The samurai were not slow to react.
Years spent honing their minds and practicing the sword had sharpened their instincts, and after seeing the bizarre deaths of their comrades, none of them dared underestimate this young opponent.
Almost instinctively, two of them twisted aside to evade Unkawa’s incoming fist.
Unfortunately…
“I’m not some brute who only knows how to throw punches.” Unkawa’s smiling voice reached their ears.
The fist that had missed suddenly flashed with cold steel.
Slash!!
The two samurai avoided the punch…
But not the broken blade hidden in his grip.
Their armor—strong enough to withstand ninja tools and even some ninjutsu—proved vulnerable where it mattered most.
The jagged fragment sliced cleanly across the gaps protecting their throats.
Two sprays of blood blossomed simultaneously.
The fourth and fifth samurai attacked from opposite directions.
Before either strike could land…
Unkawa had already landed atop another samurai’s shoulder.
“You’re hardly what I’d call a proper samurai.” Facing the frantic, fear-driven slash before him, Unkawa merely narrowed his eyes with a faint smile.
He saw the opening instantly.
BOOM!!
His fist tightened.
Only the protruding middle knuckle remained exposed.
It shot forward like a dagger.
The strike landed squarely against the man’s throat.
This technique— Finger Thrust, also known as the Carving Strike.
Among the martial arts granted by the Bullseye Template, it was a technique that perfectly combined speed and penetrating power.
Against a sufficiently vulnerable target…
It was more than enough to kill in a single blow.
The violent crack of displaced air spoke for the force behind Unkawa’s strike.
The moment the blow landed— He twisted his body.
Crack!
Crack!!
Two bones snapped almost simultaneously.
The samurai before him…
And the one beneath him…
Both froze in place.
One man’s head had been twisted completely around.
It now faced the samurai behind him.
Even a veteran warrior’s resolve couldn’t suppress the fear that sight inspired.
Besides the Five Great Nations and smaller countries like the Land of Rain, which served as battlefields and buffer states…
There also existed a handful of neutral nations that maintained special diplomatic status.
One such nation was the homeland of these warriors.
The Land of Iron.
The country had remained neutral for generations.
Partly because of its harsh coastal climate and remote geography.
More importantly…
Because of politics.
The Land of Iron had no shinobi.
It was protected entirely by samurai, preserving a unique culture, authority, and military tradition.
Although the age of the samurai had gradually faded with the rise of shinobi…
Many nobles still trusted them more than ninja.
Raised from childhood to value loyalty and honor above all else, samurai willingly sacrificed their lives for those they served.
Because of that reputation…
Samurai could be found throughout the shinobi world.
And the Land of Iron remained neutral.
The men before Unkawa were elite guards serving the Daimyo of the Land of Rain.
Among samurai…
They were considered the bravest.
Yet now…
One of them finally understood fear.
“Die!!” The last standing samurai roared, trying to reclaim his courage.
His hands gripped his katana so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Unkawa, meanwhile…
Never slowed.
The broken blade left his fingers with a thunderous crack.
Unlike before, when he’d had no footing in midair…
This throw carried the full force of solid ground beneath him.
The fragment pierced straight through the visor slit of the samurai’s helmet.
The impact launched both body and head backward.
He was pinned to the earth like an insect.
Dead before he stopped moving.
“Damn it!
Damn it!
Where are you?!” The blinded captain turned frantically toward the sounds of his men dying.
Blood streamed endlessly from the empty sockets where his eyes had been.
For the first time in his life…
He felt utterly helpless.
He couldn’t sense Unkawa at all.
Only that…
The rain had grown heavier.
The wind colder.
No.
That wasn’t the weather.
It was Unkawa weaving effortlessly among the samurai.
His broken blade stirred crimson wind and blood-soaked rain.
Limbs flew.
Blood splashed.
Screams echoed.
The heavily armored warriors looked clumsy before him.
Like oversized dolls being taken apart piece by piece.
Except…
Instead of stuffing…
Crimson blood poured from every opening.
“Urgh!!” “A monster!” “He’s a monster!” “Run!” “Get out of the way!” The scene resembled a slaughterhouse.
Even civilians watching from afar doubled over, vomiting before scrambling away in terror.
No one could mistake Unkawa for a gentle child anymore.
Not after witnessing such merciless killing.
“AAAAAH!!” The blinded captain swung wildly.
A kick shattered both his knees backward.
He collapsed with a howl.
Moments later…
Darkness claimed him forever.
Unkawa casually shook the blood from his hand.
Droplets scattered from his adamantium knuckles.
Looking toward the girl who still held her younger brother tightly, he smiled gently.
“Actually…” “I’m not a bloodthirsty person.” “Do you believe me?” Behind him— A thin line of blood slowly appeared across the captain’s neck.
It widened.
Thud.
His head rolled across the ground.
His body collapsed heavily into the mud.
The dull impact seemed to strike everyone’s heart.
It was…
The weight of a life ending.
“…” The girl, covered in mud from head to toe, looked quietly at Unkawa.
Then she nodded.
“You’re a good person.” Even though…
She had clearly felt a chill brush across her own neck moments earlier.
She knew he had considered killing her as well.
After all…
She had been standing in his way.
Yet if he had truly intended to kill her…
She would already be dead.
She wouldn’t even have had the chance to beg.
Instead…
He had saved both her and her little brother.
Then spared her life.
Her conclusion was simple.
He was a good person.
“…A good person?” Not far away, everyone stood speechless.
Yahiko’s pale face was completely drained of color.
Listening to their conversation…
He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
It sounded like a joke.
A terrible joke.
Yet…
Unkawa could tell she meant every word.
Anyone who saved her and her brother was a good person.
Everyone else’s lives were irrelevant.
Compared to that naïve, idealistic child…
“You really are much more realistic.” “And…” “I like children like you.” Unkawa chuckled softly.
Then he spoke.
“My point is…” “Instead of selling yourself to that useless Daimyo…” “Wouldn’t you rather sell your soul…” “…to someone offering a better price?” Selling your soul to the devil wasn’t the tragedy.
The real tragedy…
Was selling it for less than it was worth.
Looking at the boy before her— Who resembled a devil far more than any savior— The girl found herself believing…
That perhaps…
He really could offer a better price.