Chapter 207: Surrounded!
Panic instantly drowned out the bloody courage that had just ignited within the samurai.
It was a violent, uncontrollable tremor born entirely of raw biological instinct.
A primal alarm began violently ringing from the very depths of their genetic code, screaming at them to flee.
They were no longer proud warriors of Wano; they were merely a helpless flock of sheep facing a starving pack of monstrous wolves.
The heavy, suffocating pressure radiating from the transformed Mink Tribe was absolute.
Under the cold, pale light of the full moon, the static electricity crackling through the air made the hairs on the samurai's arms stand completely on end.
The pungent smell of raw ozone mixed with the salty sea breeze, choking their dry throats.
Weapons trembled in sweaty palms, and the unified formation began to fracture as men subconsciously took steps backward.
However, just a single second before they completely scattered and broke rank, a thunderous, commanding voice forcibly pulled them back from the absolute brink of collapse.
"What are you all panicking for!"
It was Denjiro!
His face was flushed a deep, furious red, and his eyes were wide with a blazing, righteous rage.
The prominent veins on his forehead throbbed violently, making him look as if he were far more furious and unyielding than anyone else on the battlefield.
He stomped his foot hard against the earth, creating a loud, echoing crack that commanded everyone's immediate attention.
"Look at your pathetic, miserable state! Cowards! Spineless poltroons!" Denjiro roared, his voice tearing through the crackling static of the enemy.
He swept his intense, burning gaze across the faltering ranks of the swordsmen.
"Have you forgotten who you are?! We are the glorious, unbending samurai of Wano Country!"
He suddenly drew his long, gleaming katana from its scabbard with a sharp, ringing hiss of steel.
He pointed the razor-sharp tip directly at the terrifying, ice-blue figures of the Sulong warriors ahead.
His voice turned hoarse, laced with a contagious, overwhelming fanatical devotion.
"Behind us stands the sole surviving Princess of the Kozuki Family! The rightful heir to this very land!"
He raised his sword high above his head, catching the moonlight on the polished metal.
"Show your true Bushido! For the tragically unfulfilled legacy of the great Lord Oden!"
Denjiro's voice reached a fever pitch, echoing through the desolate rocky terrain.
"For the dawn of Wano Country... and for the future of our children!"
He took a deep breath, his chest expanding as he delivered the final, fatal command.
"Charge for me!"
These deeply manipulative words acted like the strongest, most intoxicating wine imaginable.
They poured heavily and directly into the samurai's trembling chests, violently reigniting the fire of rebellion that had nearly gone completely out.
The fear in their eyes was instantly replaced by a blinding, suicidal fanaticism.
That's right! They were proud samurai!
How could they possibly retreat without swinging their swords even once?
How could they show their backs in front of a noble woman, the daughter of their beloved Shogun?
How could they cower in front of a bunch of furry, lightning-wielding monsters?!
"Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh!"
The battle cry erupted from hundreds of throats in perfect, deafening unison.
"For the absolute glory of the Kozuki!"
"Kill them all...!"
The samurai, now completely brainwashed by the hollow concepts of "glory" and "the greater cause," let out a final, most tragic roar of defiance.
They raised their katanas high, their faces twisted into masks of desperate rage.
Like a massive, surging reverse tide of steel and flesh, they charged fearlessly forward.
They threw themselves directly toward the deadly, immovable reef composed of pure lightning and impending slaughter!
However... the man who had flawlessly ignited this suicidal frenzy made a swift, calculated move that absolutely no one expected.
The very moment Denjiro shouted the word "Charge," he did not take a single step forward to lead the vanguard.
Instead, he perfectly utilized the massive forward momentum of the roaring crowd surrounding him.
As the samurai rushed past him, he took a smooth, practiced sliding step backward.
He drastically bent his body, lowering his center of gravity to completely hide himself behind the backs of the taller warriors.
He silently retreated one step, and then retreated even further into the shadows.
The fiery, righteous rage on his face vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold, emotionless mask of pure self-preservation.
Like a slippery, cunning loach, he effortlessly wove through the chaotic, surging crowd.
While the samurai blindly charged to their inevitable deaths, Denjiro precisely and stealthily slid to the very back of the formation.
He materialized right beside the slender, trembling figure wearing a simple bamboo hat.
"Princess Hiyori!"
His voice was kept extremely low, barely a harsh whisper over the din of the charging army.
There was absolutely no trace of the fanatical, heroic excitement from just a moment before on his face.
Instead, his expression was twisted with deep anxiety and a bitter, venomous resentment.
"Damn it all! Our highly classified actions were completely leaked by some lowly, treacherous mole!"
Kozuki Hiyori, tightly gripping the fabric of her kimono, was watching the tragic, heroic charge of her people ahead.
Her heart had been deeply stirred by their unwavering loyalty and their willingness to die for her family's name.
When she was suddenly startled by Denjiro's voice right beside her ear, she visibly jumped.
She turned her head, looking at this trusted retainer who should have been leading the bloody charge at the very front lines.
For a long, confusing moment, her mind simply couldn't process what she was seeing.
"Denjiro? You... why are you back here?"
"We absolutely cannot stay here!" Denjiro hissed, completely ignoring her confusion.
He aggressively reached out and grabbed her delicate wrist with a vice-like grip.
His tone was incredibly urgent, devoid of any samurai honor.
"The entire plan has been completely exposed! The enemy was heavily prepared for this exact moment!"
He pulled her slightly, forcing her to turn away from the battlefield.
"We must retreat into the shadows immediately!"
Hiyori's mind violently buzzed, going completely blank as the sheer absurdity of his words struck her.
Retreat?
Fleeing while her loyal subjects threw their lives away?
She suddenly ripped her arm back, violently shaking off Denjiro's tight grip.
She pointed a trembling, pale finger toward the front lines, her wide eyes filled with absolute disbelief and growing horror.
"Then... what about all of them?"
Her voice broke, tears of frustration and despair pricking the corners of her eyes.
"What about the brave samurai who deeply believed in your words and are fighting for you right now? Are we really just going to abandon them to die?!"
She didn't wait for his answer. She turned her gaze back to the front, and her breath hitched painfully in her chest.
As far as her tear-filled eyes could see, the rocky coastline had already been transformed into a literal, waking hell.
It wasn't a fierce, honorable battle between warriors at all.
It was a completely one-sided, merciless massacre.
The proud samurai swordsmanship that had once effortlessly terrified ordinary civilians and weak pirates seemed utterly ridiculous now.
In front of the overwhelmingly powerful Sulong-form Mink Tribe, their techniques were nothing more than slow-motion jokes.
In the vanguard, one veteran samurai bravely took an aggressive "Ittoryu: Iai" stance.
He focused his entire spirit, his drawn blade flashing forward as fast as a striking snake.
But before his steel sword could even fully leave its wooden scabbard, the world around him blurred.
A massive, glowing white claw heavily wreathed in crackling blue electricity had already violently torn straight through his exposed throat.
A fountain of crimson arterial blood sprayed high into the cold night air, painting the pale moonlight red.
The samurai collapsed like a broken puppet, his sword clattering uselessly against the stones.
A few yards away, another fiercely loyal samurai leaped high into the sky, gripping his katana with both hands.
He let out a deafening battle cry, attempting to deliver a devastating downward slash from the air to break the enemy line.
But he never even reached the peak of his jump.
A terrifying, leopard-form Mink warrior, moving entirely like a phantom bolt of lightning, charged out horizontally from the side.
The Mink intercepted the samurai completely mid-air.
With a sickening, incredibly loud crunch of shattering bone, the massive beast violently snapped the samurai's spine completely in two with a single, brutal strike.
The two halves of the broken warrior crashed heavily to the ground, instantly lost beneath the trampling feet of the chaos.
Under the haunting glow of the full Moonlight, the elite fighters of the Mink Tribe's Musketeers Squad had fully unleashed their primal instincts.
They had turned into true, unstoppable beasts of lightning and death.
Their sheer movement speed, raw physical strength, and predatory reactions had reached a completely inconceivable, monstrous level.
The passionate charge of the Wano samurai was exactly like a group of blindfolded children holding fragile wooden sticks.
They were foolishly crashing headfirst into a high-speed, heavily armored steel wall.
The previous, roaring passion and their collective readiness to die an honorable death were violently erased in mere seconds.
Those heroic shouts were instantly replaced at this moment by pathetic, agonizing screams and the horrifying sight of flying flesh and blood.
The grand, beautiful facade that Denjiro had just called "Samurai Glory" was effortlessly torn to bloody shreds by the sharp claws of harsh reality.
"Hmph!" Denjiro snorted coldly, his expression unreadable.
He looked at the deeply tragic, blood-soaked scene without a single shred of pity or remorse in his eyes.
Instead, the immediate, devastating loss of his men only served to further confirm his dark, paranoid suspicion.
"Princess, do you really still not understand the gravity of our situation?" Denjiro asked, his voice completely devoid of warmth.
He stepped closer to her, blocking her view of the slaughter with his broad shoulders.
"Since the enemy could perfectly set such a massive, precise ambush, it absolutely means there must be a traitor among us!"
He pointed a finger back at the dying men, his tone dripping with cold dismissal.
"Not a single one of these foolhardy samurai, who were hastily gathered on such short notice, can be trusted with our lives!"
This deeply twisted reason was so incredibly cold, so devoid of human empathy, yet it sounded horrifyingly "logical" slipping from his tongue.
"But... but..." Hiyori stammered weakly, her entire body shaking uncontrollably.
She looked up at this tall man standing before her.
He was someone she had known, someone who had protected her, but right now, he felt like an entirely strange, terrifying monster.
A deep, freezing chill rapidly ran from the soles of her sandaled feet straight up to the very top of her head.
"Denjiro! You... you were never like this before!" Hiyori cried out, her voice filled with profound betrayal and heartbreak.
"A true leader must be willing to sacrifice mere pawns for the ultimate victory!" Denjiro snapped back harshly.
His usually composed face looked heavily distorted and sinister under the violently flickering flashes of blue lightning from the battlefield.
He knew perfectly well that these weak, disorganized cannon fodder wouldn't last even a few more minutes against the Sulong forces.
Without the overwhelming numerical advantage of the thousands of prisoners they had planned to break out from the quarry, they were nothing.
Relying on just these few hundred loyalists was simply delivering a light, meaningless snack to the opponent's gaping jaws!
He completely stopped talking and aggressively grabbed Hiyori's slender wrist tightly once again.
Ignoring her weak struggles and pained gasps, he began forcibly dragging her deep into the shadows of the dense, overgrown forest.
He moved rapidly in the exact opposite direction of the bloody battlefield, fleeing into the darkness.
"As long as you draw breath, the Kozuki bloodline survives!" Denjiro hissed, pulling her roughly over exposed tree roots and sharp rocks.
"Princess, we absolutely must live, no matter the bloody cost, for the sake of the true restoration of this country!"
He slashed at some thick vines blocking their path with his sword, not breaking his rapid stride.
"As long as you are alive and safe, I will surely help you find the right, perfect opportunity to strike back at them in the future."
He yanked her forward as she stumbled over a rock.
"Now is absolutely not the time for foolish hesitation or weak sentimentality. Follow me quickly, or it will be far too late for both of us!"
Behind them, the agonizing, gurgling screams of the dying samurai rose and fell in the night air.
The horrific sounds became the absolute most ironic, depressing background music for the retainer's cowardly retreat.
Hiyori was dragged along, constantly stumbling and tearing the fine silk of her kimono on the harsh underbrush.
She managed to turn her head and take one final, devastating look back at that hellish battlefield.
Through the gaps in the trees, she only saw faces that were once full of bright hope and unyielding fanaticism being violently swallowed by complete despair and brutal death.
And the very man who had deliberately pushed all of them into this bottomless abyss of slaughter was currently pulling her away.
Denjiro was running without looking back even once, fleeing the horrific tragedy that he had meticulously directed himself.
Deep in the suffocating darkness of the dense forest, Denjiro continued to violently drag the stumbling, weeping Kozuki Hiyori.
They fled for their lives, entirely ignoring the sharp branches whipping against their faces and arms.
Far behind them, the once-deafening screams of the slaughtered samurai gradually and ominously thinned out.
Denjiro knew this wasn't because the tide of the battle was miraculously improving for their side.
It was simply because the terrifying speed at which human lives were withering under the Minks' claws far exceeded even his most pessimistic imagination.
The samurai were already completely wiped out.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of desperate running, he seemed to have left the intense, bloody battlefield far behind them.
The crackle of lightning and the clash of steel faded away.
Now, there was only the eerie, rustling sound of the cold night wind through the leaves and his own heavy, ragged breathing remaining in his ears.
He slowly came to a halt, letting go of Hiyori's bruised wrist.
He carefully looked back through the dense foliage, his sharp eyes scanning the shadows to confirm the furry enemies weren't actively pursuing them.
Seeing nothing but empty darkness, his chest heaved with relief.
His mouth couldn't help but slowly curl into a deeply sinister, highly satisfied smile of survival.
They had made it. They had successfully discarded the dead weight and escaped the trap.
As long as they successfully escaped this island, there was still a golden chance to slowly rebuild everything from the ground up!
However, the arrogant, victorious smile that had just appeared immediately and permanently froze on his sweaty face.
Boom!
An extremely dull, incomprehensibly massive sound suddenly erupted right in front of them.
It sounded exactly like an angry, towering god violently beating a massive war drum directly beneath the earth's crust!
The solid forest ground shook violently, the seismic wave nearly throwing them both off their feet.
Denjiro and Hiyori stumbled wildly, desperately grabbing onto the trunks of nearby trees to keep from completely falling over into the dirt.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The terrifying, rhythmic footsteps rapidly grew closer with terrifying speed.
Each individual step felt like a literal small mountain was physically moving across the island, violently shaking one's internal organs with sheer acoustic pressure.
Denjiro and Kozuki Hiyori slowly looked up, their eyes widening in absolute, paralyzing horror.
They watched helplessly as two mountain-like, incredibly massive black shadows effortlessly parted the thick, ancient forest canopy.
The giant trees snapped and splintered like fragile toothpicks as the colossal figures stepped through the treeline and fully appeared before them, completely blocking their only path of escape.
The bright, unfiltered Moonlight illuminated their rugged, impossibly huge silhouettes.
One was a massive, long-haired warrior wearing a heavy, intimidating iron horned helmet that glinted in the dark.
The other was an equally terrifying, broad-shouldered giant wearing a classic, heavily spiked Viking helmet.
They looked down at the two tiny humans with eyes the size of boulders.
"The... Giant Race?" Denjiro's eyes nearly popped completely out of his head in sheer, unadulterated shock.
"Damn it! The cursed Suzaku Pirates, how do they even have monsters like this?"
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