The rain fell harder and harder.
The icy rain lashed the muddy ground like countless whips, and lashed at Senju Tokuma's nerves, already on the verge of collapse.
"Run—run, damn it!!"
He screamed madly in his heart, but his legs felt filled with lead, nailed firmly to the spot.
At the edge of his vision, several black figures had appeared atop the tree branches that had been empty just moments ago.
Those figures wore ghastly white masks, looking especially sinister beneath the flashes of lightning.
They were Anbu.
Sawada Hiroki's fangs.
"Dispose of them."
The lead Anbu's voice carried through the curtain of rain.
Damn it! They just won't go away!!
"No! I'm from the Senju clan—I'm a noble! You can't—"
Before Senju Tokuma's howl could fully leave his throat, it was brutally cut off by a shrill whistling sound through the air.
Splat!
Warm blood instantly sprayed across the carriage shaft, already covered in mud.
Why was the world starting to spin!??
No, that wasn't right!
That was his own head!!!
Senju Tokuma's eyes widened—
As he watched his headless body slowly topple forward—
"I curse—" He tried to speak with his last ounce of strength, but without vocal cords, how could he possibly make a sound?
Thud—
His head hit the ground.
Blood burst outward like a fountain.
Then came a series of muffled impacts.
Those attendants, and that daimyo's child clutching a doll and trembling in terror—like weeds cut down by a sickle in a wheat field, they fell into the mud one after another.
There was no earth-shattering clash of ninjutsu.
Only a one-sided massacre, efficient to a horrifying degree.
In less than half a minute.
The entire road returned to dead silence, leaving only the rushing sound of rain washing away the blood.
The Anbu