"Understood. We'll descend the mountain and make ready in the Flower Capital," one elder declared.
"I thought my sword would never leave this shrine again," another added with a weary sigh. "Yet it seems even in old age, we must rise once more to clear away the filth of this era."
All of them shared the same feeling. They had watched Wano's affairs from afar, but never imagined a single lapse could allow such poison to seep into the country's veins. If not dealt with quickly, the Kurozumi clan would cause irreparable harm to Wano's strength.
Teach bowed deeply. "My task is done. I'll take my leave." His message had been delivered; in the presence of such overwhelming power, he still felt the unease of being an outsider.
"There's no need to hurry," an elder said with a smile. "Since you've climbed this mountain, you've earned the right to pay respects to Lord Ryuma."
"Indeed. All who reach this height are granted the chance," another elder from the Shimotsuki clan agreed.
Teach's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't expected such an opportunity. Within this sword domain, the very air was infused with the Sword Aura.
The closer one stood to its heart, the shrine, the greater the benefit.
Led by a single elder, Teach entered. The others remained outside; even they dared not disturb the Sword God's rest too often.
The shrine itself was small, solemn, steeped in centuries of silence. At its center rested the national treasure of Wano, the black blade Shusui, enshrined above Ryuma Shimotsuki's coffin.
The instant Teach stepped inside, his sword intent stirred restlessly, sharpened, strengthened, as if answering an unseen call. The effect was faint, yet undeniable. For weaker swordsmen, the change would be profound. For Great Swordsmen, only prolonged meditation could yield results but even so, this place was akin to the legendary blessed lands of myth.
Paying respect required no ritual. Teach simply bowed once, deeply, before turning and leaving in silence.
His descent from the mountain was swift, his next destination already fixed, Kuri.
The matter of Kurozumi Kanjuro had to be settled before Oden returned. Kanjuro, one of Oden's earliest retainers, was in truth Orochi's spy planted before Kuri had even been established. His loyalty to the Kurozumi clan ran deeper than anyone suspected.
On the surface, Kanjuro seemed pitiful. His swordsmanship appeared second-rate, his Devil Fruit ability ridiculous. Yet Teach knew the truth; he was far stronger than he let on, strong enough to defeat several of Oden's samurai in a fair fight. And for years he had quietly siphoned Kuri's wealth to Orochi, helping the usurper grow his power while leaving Oden's domain impoverished.
If Kanjuro discovered Teach's movements too soon, the entire plan would unravel. Whether by Den Den Mushi, secret channels, or his Devil Fruit artistry, he surely had ways to send word. Only his death could close that risk.
Compared to the Flower Capital, Kuri was rougher, younger but more vibrant.
Once a lawless den of killers and thieves, it had been transformed singlehandedly by Oden. With his own fists, he subdued Ashura Doji, the strongest of them all, and bent the rogues of Kuri into something resembling order. Within a few short years, he had turned chaos into prosperity, earning his father's recognition and the title of Daimyo.
Now, even years after Oden's departure, Kuri still thrived—its beauty born not of history like the Flower Capital, but of rebirth.
Night had fallen when Teach arrived. From the hilltop daimyo mansion, he extended his Observation Haki across the district, sensing the gathered auras. Ashura Doji's was unmistakable, burning, fierce, a beast barely chained.
Stronger than any of Oden's other retainers, his strength rivaled a future Admiral's. Kanjuro's aura, by contrast, was carefully muted, but Teach knew better than to be deceived.
To strike Kanjuro, he needed an ally. And Ashura Doji was the perfect choice. Unlike Kin'emon, his bond with Kanjuro was shallow. A former bandit himself, Ashura knew well the darkness in men's hearts.
That night, Ashura Doji returned from patrol, his broad frame weary but content. Life as Oden's retainer was steady, meaningful—so different from his old days of slaughter. Yet as he entered his chamber, his eyes narrowed.
A slip of paper jutted deliberately from beneath his pillow. Impossible. The mansion's security was ironclad. Who could have left it?
He snatched it up, reading the words in silence. His brows furrowed, his grip tightened on his sword. At last, he made his choice. Without a word to anyone, he left the mansion, his steps heavy with intent.
South of Kuri, in a forest clearing, he halted. His aura flared like fire. "I'm here," he growled into the night. "Show yourself. Is what you wrote true?"
Teach stepped from the shadows, calm, smiling faintly. In his hand was a second letter—Oden's own handwriting, carried across the seas.
Ashura snatched it, scanning the familiar words. His suspicion warred with the certainty in his gut. This was Oden's hand, his tone, his heart. Still, he demanded, "Who are you?"
"Marshall D. Teach," the man replied. "Crewmate of Whitebeard, companion to Oden on his voyage. I've returned with Oden's letter and with a warning. Kanjuro, full name Kurozumi Kanjuro, is a traitor. A spy of the Kurozumi clan, serving Orochi in secret. I've come to eliminate him before Oden's return."
Ashura's grip tightened. He wanted to deny it but Teach's words rang with truth. Oden's absence, Orochi's sudden rise, Kuri's wealth vanishing… it all fit.
"How can I trust you?" Ashura demanded at last.
Teach's smile sharpened. "Check the ledgers. Kanjuro manages the mansion's finances. Every time Orochi borrows, Kanjuro lends him double. That's why your coffers are empty, why Kuri grows poor while Orochi thrives."
Ashura's face darkened with fury. The shortages he had noticed… so that was the reason.
Teach leaned closer. "He hides his true strength. Help me draw him out. I'll confront him openly, force him to reveal himself. When he does, we strike together."
Ashura was silent a long moment, then nodded once. "Very well. If Kanjuro shows his fangs, I'll cut him down myself."
Teach outlined the plan. A letter, like the one left for Ashura, would be sent to Kanjuro, claiming to be from Orochi, summoning him. Only a few knew his secret. He would have no choice but to investigate alone.
And when he did, Ashura Doji would be waiting in the shadows.