Amatsuki Tempura's sneer scraped like a blade across stone. "Do you mean Kurozumi Orochi in the Flower Capital, who schemed his way onto the throne, or Kozuki Oden in Kuri, who can only beg for sympathy with his ridiculous dancing?"
The courtyard suddenly fell silent.
The sound of the stream grew especially clear.
The willow branches stopped swaying, and the gathering dusk pressed heavily down, freezing the four figures beside the stone table into silent silhouettes.
The previous ruler Kozuki Sukiyaki's decision remained baffling-why had he handed power over to Kurozumi Orochi?
In the people's eyes, Kozuki Oden had already committed a grave dereliction of duty by abandoning his homeland for the sea.
Yet what Kurozumi Orochi had done after seizing power was even more suffocating.
Crushing taxes poured down like torrential rain, fertile fields became workshops belching black smoke, and an acrid stench hung over the streets day and night.
Wails spread into every corner, and so-called "benevolent rule"
had long since become a joke.
But they were ultimately only vassals.
Remonstrating was the most they could do against the tyrant seated in his lofty tower.
Keeping the people of their own domains safe from slaughter already exhausted all their strength.
The lands surrounding the Flower Capital continued to disappear.
With Kaido's fleet behind him, Kurozumi Orochi held both legitimate authority and a sharp blade; the vassals were not even qualified to oppose him.
Then, five years ago, the news arrived-Kozuki Oden had returned.
The entire country had trembled at the news.
People held their breath, waiting for the rightful heir to break their shackles, but what they finally received was...
"Has the Kozuki Clan truly produced such a cowardly bloodline?"
Amatsuki Tempura's voice was like a tempered blade.
The other three remained silent. None answered.
When they had