Yuma County.
County Magistrate Shirakawa sat slouched on the tatami.
He was in his forties, tall and fat, with a rather kindly face. At the moment, though, he looked deeply troubled.
His wife brought him a watermelon she had just chilled in the well.
Shirakawa wasn't like other county magistrates. He didn't aspire to climb the ranks or chase wealth. He had stayed by the side of his childhood sweetheart, his wife, to this day, and had never shown any intention of taking a concubine.
His only hobby was eating.
But today, he had no appetite. The reason was simple—
County Magistrate Shirakawa looked toward the wounded samurai lying across the Magistrate's Mansion.
Every one of them was injured, groaning in pain.
The town's only doctors had all come, but with wounds this severe... they'd be lucky if half survived.
Besides the samurai, two ninjas from Kirigakure were lying nearby.
One was dead, his body cold.
The other had been slashed. His intestines had spilled out all over the ground, and the doctors had just stuffed them back in haphazardly. They were now desperately trying to stop the bleeding.
County Magistrate Shirakawa gazed at the mist hanging over the town.
It was all because of that.
He snatched up the watermelon his wife had brought him and took a furious bite. Juice splattered everywhere, as if he were venting his anger that way.
"What the hell is this supposed to be?!"
"Can't Heaven send a gust of wind to blow this damned fog away?"
As soon as the words left his mouth,
a gale swept in from afar, rattling the roof tiles and swaying the trees. Leaves whirled into the sky like emerald blades, shredding the hazy fog to pieces.
The long-missed blue sky appeared overhead. The cloying dampness vanished,