Chapter 4: The Samurai Encounters Goblins

“Grghaa! Grghaaghaa!”

Lost in this seemingly cursed forest, the samurai, Kurosu, stumbled upon the first signs of human life, but something was terribly amiss.

Peering from the shadows, Kurosu intently observed the creatures in his path, attempting to deduce their true nature.

A group of five child-sized figures huddled around a deer-like carcass, tearing into it with bare hands and consuming raw entrails. With blood-stained hands and faces, they gleefully slurped the dripping meat, resembling the hungry demons depicted in hellish paintings. Their pointed ears, hooked noses, crooked teeth, and muddy, earth-toned skin were accompanied by ragged loin cloths, and they appeared to be conversing in an indecipherable language.

Could these be the impoverished forest dwellers – the so-called “mountain people” known as the San’ka tribe, referred to as Tenba or Minaoshi? Kurosu had never encountered them before, but he had heard rumors of these nomadic people who farmed no land, established no settlements, and wandered the mountains speaking their own unique, secret language. Their culture was said to be vastly different from that of ordinary folk, as they seldom descended from the mountains and had little contact with the outside world.

Judging by their gaunt frames, it seemed they didn’t often have the opportunity for a proper meal. Perhaps a recent successful hunt, coupled with the reluctance to waste time building a fire, had led them to devour their prey with such fervor.

Kurosu recalled a time when he himself had been famished in the rain-soaked wilderness, unable to start a fire due to a damp tinder pouch, and had resorted to consuming a raw snake. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have considered it, but at the time, the taste had seemed as delectable as a gourmet feast.

Feeling a slightly misplaced sense of kinship, Kurosu decided to step out from the shadows and address the peculiar group.

“Pardon me, you there. I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, but I was wondering if you could help me find my way.”

“Grghaa!?!” they cried in unison, seemingly startled from their feast.

The men seemed to have noticed Kurosu’s presence only after he had spoken.

…Perhaps he had startled them.

To commoners such as farmers, a samurai was both an object of reverence and a source of fear.

Rumors of hotheaded warriors assaulting people in the streets and executing them on the spot for the slightest perceived insult were frequently whispered among the townsfolk. Consequently, those unaccustomed to the sight of a warrior, particularly in rural areas, often reacted with excessive fear. Kurosu had experienced this before, as some had even collapsed in terror before him.

In reality, even a samurai was not permitted to behave so recklessly without significant justification.

As Kurosu pondered his next move, the group of five rose to their feet and approached him at a brisk pace. They clutched wooden clubs in their hands, perhaps intended as weapons.

“Hold on, I mean no harm. I’m merely a wandering warrior, seeking guidance on my journey. Forgive my disheveled appearance, but I have no intention of stealing your food. I simply need directions.”

Kurosu had tried his best to speak gently, so as not to frighten them further. But despite his efforts, the men raised their clubs and attacked.

Their movements were uncoordinated and chaotic, with no semblance of teamwork. In their frenzy to rush Kurosu, they even collided with one another.

“Grghaa!!”

Their wild swings were devoid of any skill or technique, and Kurosu easily evaded their attacks with nimble footwork. To any onlooker, it might have seemed like children playfully tussling.

“I have nothing of value, so there’s no need for this.”

Kurosu attempted to calmly dissuade them, but their assault showed no sign of relenting. Whether they understood his words or not was unclear, but one thing was certain: they were not listening.

“Enough!” he insisted.

“Brghaa!”

“Grghaa!? Grghaaghaaa!!”

Seeing that words had no effect, Kurosu lightly kicked one of the attackers to the ground, hoping to demonstrate his point. Instead, it seemed to enrage the group further, and their assault grew more ferocious. Their eyes blazed like those of famished, rabid dogs, their shrill cries grating on his ears.

He could easily continue to fend off their attacks, but their relentless hostility was beginning to provoke Kurosu’s ire.

“Listen, you lot. Have you not noticed my twin swords? My patience isn’t limitless. If you continue this folly, I’ll have no choice but to cut you down.”

Kurosu spoke in a low, threatening tone, but the men showed no sign of changing their course. With inexplicable glee, they let out bizarre cries as they repeatedly swung their clubs.

Did they not understand the stark disparity in their combat abilities, as Kurosu effortlessly dodged their five-pronged assault?

He was reluctant to slay those unversed in the art of war, but given their refusal to heed his warnings, he saw no other choice.

Kurosu steeled himself and drew his sword in one swift motion, decapitating the man in the lead. Immediately, he swung back around and performed a diagonal slash on the man beside him.

“Gyaaah!?”

The sudden loss of their comrades must have stunned them.

With expressions of shock and disbelief, the remaining three men froze in place, each in turn falling to a single stroke of Kurosu’s blade.

While meticulously wiping the blood off his sword with a hand towel, Kurosu considered the situation before him as he looked at the bodies of the men he had killed.

Although it was unavoidable, he had slain five people. Villagers in such isolated locations often had a strong sense of camaraderie. Moreover, the men were likely part of a mysterious tribe. If he simply left now and the villagers retaliated out of a misunderstanding, it would leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

As the one responsible for their deaths, Kurosu knew he was inviting trouble, but he decided that at the very least, he would explain the situation and inform them of the location of the bodies.

With that in mind, Kurosu approached the disemboweled deer carcass.

For the villagers, it must have been a valuable source of food after a long time. He couldn’t carry the bodies, but once he reached the village, he would ask for help to retrieve them.

Using the tasuki wrapped around his waist, he tightly bound the deer to his back. It would be easier to carry it, but as a samurai, he needed to keep both hands free and ready to draw his sword at all times.

After making sure the deer wouldn’t slide off as he moved, Kurosu found it to be not as heavy as it appeared, thanks to the removed organs. It seemed he would have no problem moving with it.

“Now, which way to the village?”

Kurosu had learned various tracking techniques as part of his training in apprehending criminals, and he had plenty of experience chasing animals in the mountains since his childhood.

Since the men had been moving in a large group, they had left plenty of traces behind, such as footprints and scattered leaves. It was difficult in a town, but in the forest, it was relatively easy to follow their trail.

He quickly spotted a branch that had been unnaturally broken and headed in that direction.

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