Oden's eyes brimmed with tears. "Kanjuro…"
Whether it was grief or fury, he could not say. Kanjuro had been among his first retainers, one of the earliest to pledge himself to Oden. Together they had shared battles and triumphs.
For Oden, that bond ran deep.
And yet, Ashura Doji's decision could not be faulted. Ending Kanjuro's life before his treachery reached its peak had preserved his reputation and spared Kuri further disgrace.
As bitter as it was, this was the best ending left to Kanjuro.
Izou, Inuarashi, and Nekomamushi said nothing, their silence heavy as steel.
The procession pressed on. Their combined auras blanketed the forest, driving even the fiercest beasts into hushed retreat. Neither Whitebeard nor Oden needed to bare their fangs; monsters knew monsters when they sensed them.
"Let's pick up the pace," Teach said lightly. "Once we're out of the forest, we'll reach Ringo."
The sheer movement of nearly a thousand strong shook the land. When they emerged from the trees, the sight drew immediate attention. Wano's samurai, stationed in nearby villages to await Oden's return, rushed forward with drawn blades, mistaking the group for invaders.
"Lord Oden! It's Lord Oden!"
Relief flooded some faces as they recognized him. Two samurai of the Shimotsuki clan stepped forward, bowing low.
"Lord Oden, Lord Yasuie instructed us to await you here. But… who are these outsiders?" Their eyes flicked nervously to the pirates, lingering on the towering Whitebeard—a giant whose presence radiated suffocating pressure.
"Hahaha! They're my companions from the sea!" Oden's laughter was booming, his sorrow set aside. Brooding would not bring Kanjuro back, nor would it help Wano. The battle ahead mattered more than grief. "Come, take me to Yasuie, it's been too long!"
The samurai straightened. "Yes, Lord Oden. We'll ride Flame Deer to the Flower Capital. Lord Yasuie and the others are already gathered." He hesitated, his eyes drifting nervously toward the mass of Whitebeard Pirates.
"What's wrong?" Oden asked, frowning.
"Forgive me, Lord Oden," the samurai said miserably. "There are too many… guests. We don't have enough mounts. Only a handful."
"Gurararara!" Whitebeard's laughter rolled across the plain. "It's fine, Oden. You go ahead—we'll catch up."
"Very well." Oden knew time was precious. If the Kurozumi had caught wind of their approach, every hour's delay risked disaster. He mounted a Flame Deer, its fiery coat blazing like embers, its towering frame four meters high.
Whitebeard leaned down, grinning at his men. "Children! Follow Oden!"
His colossal stride shook the earth, Marco soared ahead in a flash of blue phoenix fire, and Jozu's diamond body glittered as he thundered forward. Vista ran with elegant precision, blade at his hip, while the others shouted in joy. The chase across the open field was half-battle, half-festival—a magnificent show of strength.
Behind them, Teach stood still, arms folded, Mobius and the others beside him.
"Boss Teach, aren't we going too?" Mobius asked, watching the spectacle.
Teach laughed. "Why waste stamina? It's still a long way to the Capital. Let's be smart."
The answer came in the form of a ten-meter wild boar with swollen bruises on its forehead and tears in its eyes. It had been asleep moments ago before Teach had woken it—with fists.
"Boss Teach… are you sure about this?" Mobius asked weakly, staring at the beast.
Teach grinned, patting the makeshift saddle lashed to its back. "No problem. Hold on tight."
The boar trembled as his cold voice sank into its ears. "Run, little piggy. Take us where I want to go, and I'll set you free. Fail me… and I'll roast you for dinner. I hear wild boar meat is delicious."
The beast's eyes went wide, imagining its sizzling carcass. 'This devil… he's serious!'
With a terrified squeal, it bolted forward, moving so fast the wind roared in its wake. The ground quaked beneath its hooves.
"What the hell is that?!" Pirates ahead turned, eyes bulging. "A wild boar? Charging straight at us?!"
"Idiot, that's not just any boar!"
And then they saw him—Teach, perched on its back, laughing loudly, his companions clinging on.
"Little piggy! Swing wide—go around them!" Teach ordered.
The boar obeyed instantly, hot steam blasting from its nostrils. 'Little piggy? I am the mighty Wild Boar King! But… I'll keep quiet. I can't take another beating.'
With a shriek, it veered and thundered past the running pirates, overtaking them with ease.
"Where the hell did he find that?!" Jozu shouted.
"Cheating! He's cheating!" Marco cawed from above.
Teach waved as he blew past. "Hahaha! I'll see you at the Capital!"
The spectacle left Whitebeard's crew half-laughing, half-crestfallen. Running suddenly felt less glorious when Teach sailed past atop a stolen mount.
Meanwhile, in the Flower Capital, the storm gathered.
Samurai from every corner of Wano were pouring into the city, answering the Kozuki's call. For the first time in a century, the strength of all the great families converged here. To avoid civilian casualties, Sukiyaki had used his old authority to evacuate the populace. The Flower Capital was now a hollow city, a stage cleared for war.
Atop the shogun's palace, Kurozumi Orochi drained the last drop of sake from his bottle. Empty jars littered the floor. He swayed, eyes red—but when he lifted his head, his gaze was cold, sober, and sharp.
"General Orochi," a confidant said urgently, entering the chamber. "People are fleeing. Should we cut them down?"
Orochi sneered. "Let them run. The Capital is sealed tight, where could they possibly go? Save your strength for the real fight."
"Understood," the man bowed.
Orochi studied him for a moment. "Shinobi. Leave now, and you might yet live."
The man shook his head firmly. "Never. Even to the end, I will remain by your side."
Orochi's lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Is that so? Hahahaha!"
He rose to his feet, donning a yellow kimono patterned with black crescent stars, a black cloak flowing behind him. Stepping onto the balcony, he spread his arms wide, overlooking the Flower Capital bathed in cherry blossoms.
"The Flower Capital… beautiful as ever," he murmured. "Today it is empty, yet it belongs wholly to me. At last, I am its sole master."
Behind him stood Shinobi and Kurozumi Semimaru, silent as statues. Orochi's hypocrisy and cowardice were gone; in their place stood a serpent uncoiled, a cunning tyrant baring his fangs.
Semimaru's eyes narrowed. He had always served Orochi—not the family, but the man. He alone had seen the patience, the masks, the years of swallowed pride. Orochi had played the fool, but beneath that act lay ruthless ambition.
The Kurozumi would rise with him or fall in a final blaze of defiance.