Getting Ready to Strike, Getting Ready to Strike!

"Born of blood and fire, martial arts to end all war!"

"No land, no grain, only the blade and our lives!"

"The New Martial flag stands high, blood debts must be paid in blood!"

"If Heaven will not sustain us, we shall carve out our own heavens!"

Beneath the snapping, blood-red New Martial military banner, the soldiers in their grim iron armor roared in unison, their voices shaking the very firmament.

Thanks to the tireless instruction Luzhen had provided over this period, the soldiers fully grasped the meaning behind the slogans they shouted.

Fierce, terrifying glints erupted from their bloodshot eyes, and their fists moved in perfect, uniform rhythm, each strike unleashing a sharp and formidable momentum.

A biting, murderous aura surged from the military formation, tangible and heavy, scattering all birds and beasts within a radius of several miles.

If anyone from Konoha were here at this moment, they would surely be struck dumb with astonishment.

For the techniques these soldiers were currently wielding were none other than the basic taijutsu of Konoha: the Konoha Whirlwind!

Taijutsu differs from ordinary ninjutsu; it does not rely heavily on chakra, placing greater value on indomitable will and arduous training.

These two qualities are precious, yet also cheap.

They were perfectly suited for this group of refugees who had been hovering on the brink of life and death not long ago; in order to survive, they would never slacken.

Dongfang Mao had noticed this early on, so he had directly adapted the Konoha Whirlwind into the "New Martial Military Fist" and passed it down.

Now, it was already showing initial results; while it was clearly unrealistic to expect them to handle ninjas, a single man could easily take down three or five men of equal build from the outside.

Their combat prowess was exceptionally fierce.

Returning to the training grounds of the Desolate Village, Dongfang Mao witnessed this very scene, his lips curling upward involuntarily as a surge of heroic spirit rose in his heart.

He then walked into the training grounds, interrupting those who were drilling.

"That is enough for today. Go back and rest quickly, and keep your spirits sharp."

Dongfang Mao then looked toward the four commanders standing in the rear.

"Yasuke, Kyuzo, Mataichi, Zenpachi, come with me."

"Yes, Big Brother!"

Yasuke spoke first, only to be met with a fierce glare from Dongfang Mao.

"How many times must I say it? When we are out in public, use our official titles!"

"Yes, Grand Commander!"

Yasuke gave a sheepish laugh.

Only then did Dongfang Mao nod in satisfaction.

Soon, Dongfang Mao led the four of them to Inumaru's Night Patrol Bureau.

In the dim, secret chamber, only a few bronze lamps flickered with faint light.

At Dongfang Mao's signal, Inumaru took out a parchment map, and with a soft "swish," the map was spread flat across the table before them.

This map was the defensive layout of the city of Tsukimiura, detailing the locations of the city wall watchtowers, the grain storage areas, and the military encampments.

This was the fruit of the Night Patrol Bureau's efforts over the past two and a half months.

Dongfang Mao then took four merchant permits he had obtained from Yoshikawa—permits for merchant caravans to enter the city—from his robes and tossed them to Yasuke and the others, saying:

"In a while, each of you will select 100 men from the camp to remain behind and guard the village, just in case. Tomorrow, the rest of your troops will disguise themselves as merchant caravans and enter the city one by one using these permits."

Taking the permits, the four men first exchanged glances, then looked at Dongfang Mao in unison, asking with excitement:

"Grand Commander, is it time to begin?"

"Indeed. The timing is just about right. Furthermore, the number of refugees has dropped too noticeably of late, and I fear others have taken notice. We cannot delay any longer, or it will be troublesome once we draw the attention of those within Tsukimiura."

"Understood!"

The four shouted in unison, their voices unable to hide their agitation.

Dongfang Mao nodded, his fingertip pressing heavily onto a spot on the map as he said in a low voice:

"After entering the city, everyone is to rendezvous with me in the slums. Once the sky turns completely black..."

His gaze shifted sharply toward Mataichi.

"Mataichi, you are responsible for setting fire to the military tents to create chaos, and simultaneously intercepting and killing any city guards who come to extinguish the flames."

"Understood!"

Mataichi cupped his fists in response.

"I will personally lead one hundred elites to take the Magistrate Office directly and eliminate the City Deputy."

As Dongfang Mao spoke, his finger traced three sharp trajectories across the map.

"As for the three of you..."

He pointed to three residences circled in vermilion ink.

"These are the estates of the Watanabe, Tanaka, and Sato families, the greatest clans in Tsukimiura. Take them by force as quickly as possible while the chaos persists. Anyone who resists with a weapon is to be executed on the spot!"

A cold glint flashed in his eyes, and the temperature in the room seemed to plummet in its wake.

"Understood!" the three replied in unison, their momentum surging like a rainbow.

Dongfang Mao suddenly slammed his hand against the desk, the wood emitting a dull thud.

"Do not underestimate the enemy! The private soldiers kept by these three families are well-equipped and well-trained; they are not to be compared to the old, weak, sick, or disabled found elsewhere in the city."

His gaze swept over the three of them like a blade.

"Your mission is far more arduous than that of Mataichi."

Upon hearing this, the three did not shrink back; instead, a raging battle intent ignited in their eyes.

They knelt on one knee in perfect unison, the clatter of armor striking the floor ringing out in a crisp, synchronized rhythm.

"We three stake our lives on it—we shall breach the gates of those three families!"

Dongfang Mao nodded with satisfaction, a flicker of approval crossing his eyes.

"Very good."

He stood with his hands behind his back, the candlelight stretching his shadow into a long, thin silhouette.

"Once the deed is done, you three must come to the Magistrate Office to find me immediately. Mataichi, you must control all major traffic arteries in the city at top speed and seal the north and south gates. Without my orders, no one is to be allowed passage. If anyone attempts to force their way through, kill them!"

Feeling the killing intent in Dongfang Mao's words, which seemed almost solid enough to condense, the four felt a chill in their hearts. Their expressions turned grave as they shouted in low, resonant voices.

"By your command, Grand Governor!"

The next day.

The night was as dark as ink, yet the Tsukimiura Magistrate Office was brightly lit, as if it were broad daylight.

Candlelight flickered upon the stands.

The Acting Magistrate reclined lazily on an exquisite soft couch, reeking of alcohol. His right hand wantonly embraced a dancer clad in translucent gauze, his fingertips occasionally tracing the woman's delicate skin, while his left hand gripped a wine cup encrusted with pearls.

On the table before him, delicacies were piled high like a mountain, each dish intricately crafted and vibrant in color, clearly of immense value.

The surrounding dancers were barely covered, their bodies visible beneath the light veils as they danced to the music. The silver bells in their hair chimed, weaving together with the Acting Magistrate's boisterous laughter and the clinking of wine cups to form a symphony of decadence.

However, just as the Acting Magistrate was sinking into this life of debauchery, a middle-aged man dressed as a retainer burst in, looking deeply troubled. He walked up to the Acting Magistrate and said, "Acting Magistrate, the number of merchant caravans today is quite strange. There are far more than usual for this time of year!"

The Acting Magistrate's expression stiffened upon hearing this. He pulled his grease-stained palm from the fair, ample bosom of the dancer in his arms and looked at the retainer.

"Have you thoroughly inspected the goods of those caravans?"

Although Tsukimiura was rotten to the core, it was not hopelessly stupid.

Aside from those who had filed reports, such as merchants like Yoshikawa, Tsukimiura maintained very strict control over ironware. For any unfamiliar caravan, the inspections were rigorous to prevent any potential threats.

"I have checked, but there was only grain and cloth..." the retainer replied, stunned.

"Then that's that. You're making a fuss over nothing. Get out, don't bother me!"

The Acting Magistrate waved his hand impatiently, then eagerly lifted the dancer in his arms, a lecherous grin on his face.

The retainer wanted to say more. The sharp increase in the number of caravans, combined with the rumors about refugees from a few days ago, made him feel that something was wrong.

But seeing the state of the Acting Magistrate, he shook his head helplessly and turned to leave.

"Wait!"

The Acting Magistrate's head suddenly popped out from the sea of white flesh.

"Since they are new caravans, remember to keep a close eye on them. Don't let them find any loopholes to evade taxes."

Having said that, the Acting Magistrate ignored everything else and buried his head back down. Immediately after, sounds of debauchery that would make one blush began to emanate from the room.