Chương 5: Decision Beneath the Moon

The figures of Shuji and Itachi receded into the distance along the trade road. One by one, the surveillance eyes watching from the shadows withdrew. One figure rushed back into the village, while several others quietly followed behind them. Leaning into the shadow of a beech tree, a youth in dark green shinobi attire stood waiting, with Itachi silently crouching by his side. The two watched as those pursuers followed Shuji's shadow clone, gradually disappearing in the direction leading toward Koizumi Town.

Inside the village chief's residence, the oil lamp burned considerably brighter than usual. Several influential elders of the village were gathered here, the air heavy with suppressed anxiety.

"I said from the very beginning that we should report it immediately! The moment those bastards snuck back, I knew they would draw fire to us sooner or later!" A coarse voice broke the silence first, tinged with unsuppressable anger. At first, the villagers genuinely had no idea what those young men who left home were up to. It wasn't until news of the Land of Rivers hunting down bandits arrived, and the village just so happened to be missing over a dozen young, able-bodied men, that the pieces began to fit.

When those youths reappeared and the raids started again, the coincidence was more than enough for the core figures of Shirakawa Village to piece together the disturbing truth. Across from him, a middle-aged man wearing round-framed glasses pushed up his sliding bridge, the lenses reflecting the flickering lamplight.

"When the pursuit team came to ask back then, we insisted we knew nothing. Now we turn around and say we do? What will the Daimyo's estate think?" His voice wasn't loud, yet every word hit clearly.

"Besides, life is a bit tough right now, but we're still managing. If the outside world finds out our village bred bandits..."

"All the goods in your warehouse are cleared out, so of course you can stand there and talk!" A burly man with a ferocious face slammed his fist onto the low table, making the teacups rattle loudly.

"I still have half a year's harvest stacked up in mine! If this continues, the whole village will be starving!" His eyes were bloodshot with rage.

"Those two shinobi... have already guessed it." Sitting in the main seat, Shirakawa Takasuke's voice sounded dry and raspy, as if it took every ounce of his strength just to squeeze the words out. The room instantly fell into a dead silence. BANG! An elder with snow-white hair and beard, Shirakawa Sosuke, slammed his hand hard onto the tabletop, splashing tea out of the cups. His hawk-like eyes swept over everyone, his voice carrying a heavy, crushing gravity.

"We can hesitate no longer, Takasuke! Those are shinobi who accepted an official request!" His fingers gripped the edge of the table tightly.

"Where are they now?" Shirakawa Takasuke's lips trembled.

"I... I sent someone to notify Koichiro... to tell them..." The old man's hands gripped his robes tightly.

"That child... that child was merely blinded by outsiders... he was originally a good boy..."

"Enough!" The burly man interrupted.

"Koichiro's hands were stained with blood long ago! He stopped being a child long time ago! Village Chief, if you keep shielding him, are you going to drag the entire village down into the grave with him?!" Shirakawa Sosuke slowly stood up, his huge body casting a huge, swaying shadow under the oil lamp that blanketed his younger brother.

"Takasuke, this is no longer a simple matter of a few dead outsiders." With his deep voice.

"Once shinobi step in, there must be a clean resolution!"

"... We cannot hand them over," the middle-aged man with glasses spoke up after a long silence, his voice strained.

"And even less can we let outsiders know that it was people from our Shirakawa Village who did it."

"Then what are you suggesting?!" The burly man turned his head sharply, a fierce, ruthless glint flashing in his eyes. Shirakawa Sosuke slowly closed his eyes, the deep wrinkles on his face carved sharply by the lamplight like knife slashes.

"After the Warring States period ended, this trade road finally prospered, allowing us to live a few decent days." He opened his eyes once more, his gaze turned cold.

"The village's reputation is our lifeblood; every single household relies on the merchant caravans to eat." If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Takasuke, you will cooperate."

"Brother, but..."

"There are no buts!" The weak voice of defense was completely swallowed by the sharp CRACKLE of the lamp wick, ultimately turning into a few heavy, suffocating sighs. When the villager tasked with watching the shinobi ran back to confirm that the two ninja had indeed left the village boundaries, the air in the room seemed to freeze for a second before the tension erupted again. Without another word, everyone dispersed quickly and silently, melting into the night of the village.

A short while later, at the threshing floor, over forty young and middle-aged men gathered under the chilly moonlight. What they held in their hands were no longer farming tools, but weapons glinting with a cold edge, sharpened scythes, terrifyingly jagged pitchforks, and heavy bows held tightly by hunters, their strings already pulled tight. Faces that were familiar on ordinary days were now tightly set. Shirakawa Sosuke stood at the very front of the line, with Shirakawa Takasuke beside him.

Behind the two elders were several shoulder poles carrying wine and meat. The moonlight poured down like water, casting long, twisted shadows of this silent squad and those cold blades, heading toward the depths of the mountain forest. The only sounds left in the air were heavy breathing and the occasional quiet clink of weapons clashing. This was not a truly peaceful era.

The Warring States period had ended a mere fifty-four years ago; back then, those drafted onto the battlefield were by no means limited to shinobi. The silver-haired Shirakawa Sosuke was precisely a survivor who had crawled out from that mountain of corpses and sea of blood, he knew exactly how to command a slaughter. Like a silent, long serpent, the line slithered quietly into the massive mountain behind the village under the old man's lead.

"Did Senpai anticipate this scene?" Itachi's voice broke the silence amidst the tree shadows, his pupils reflecting the moving line at the foot of the mountain. Leaning against the tree trunk, Shuji slowly shook his head, shadows casting deep contours over his face.

"I thought of several possibilities: that they would reach an internal agreement and confess to us, asking for confidentiality."

"That someone among them would leak information out of personal feelings."

"That they would fall into internal chaos first... but this was the one option I never foresaw." He gazed down at those cold glints flickering beneath the moonlight at the base of the mountain, those were neighbors and uncles who were usually warm and simple-minded.

"To protect the village's reputation, to save their livelihoods... they chose to handle it with their own hands." An indescribable, complex emotion rose in his chest. Were these villagers too reckless? Or was his own understanding of this world's true nature simply too shallow?

"However, it is also the right choice," Itachi said, his voice so calm and indifferent that it seemed strange for an eight-year-old. He watched the line disappearing into the dark mountain forest.

"Ending the evil born from their own village with their own hands is both atonement and the maximum preservation of the village's foundation." Shuji turned his head, looking at Itachi, which still retained its youthful innocence yet was completely calm and emotionless. Under the moonlight, those dark eyes were bottomlessly deep. It seemed that, in the end, it was his own perception of this world that had been far too naive.

He looked away, turning his gaze back toward the mountain forest whose menacing silhouette was outlined by the moonlight. Halfway up the mountain, in a hidden camp had been built inside a natural cave with simple wooden fences around it, only two men were lazily guarding the campfire at the entrance. Seeing Village Chief Shirakawa Takasuke appear from the mountain path accompanied by six men carrying shoulder poles, instead of becoming vigilant, they stepped forward to greet them with familiar smiles.

"Chief! Why did you come up in person?" One of them was none other than Koichiro. He wore the characteristic vitality of a youth on his face, even stepping up affectionately to take the shoulder pole off the chief's shoulder, as if merely welcoming an elder he hadn't seen in a long time. Shirakawa Takasuke stopped heavily, a deeply forced smile squeezing onto his heavily wrinkled face, looking exceptionally aged and exhausted under the jumping firelight: "Koichiro...

people came to investigate again, and it's quite a commotion down there. Do you... really not plan to leave and lay low for a bit?"

"Ah, Chief! Didn't we promise you long ago?!" Koichiro waved his hand dismissively, his face full of indifference, even carrying a touch of the arrogance unique to youths.

"We have restraint when we move! We only rob those passing, out-of-town crooked merchants, and never touch the regulars who have dealings with our village! Those black-hearted merchants deserve to be robbed! So don't worry!" Koichiro looked into the shoulder baskets, catching sight of the wine jars and chunks of meat. His eyes lit up, his smile becoming even brighter.

"You even brought so much good stuff to visit us! Hold on, I'll go call Big Brother Nobuya right now! He was just complaining that the wine wasn't strong enough!" The muscles on Shirakawa Takasuke's face twitched uncontrollably. That outsider who was called "Big Brother"! It was this fellow named Nobuya, using sweet words and promises of a "living the life," had completely influenced Koichiro, the most sensible and hardworking boy he had watched grow up since childhood!

A surge of rage, sorrow, and despair broke through the last of his remaining strength. He knew that right at this moment, right within this mountain forest illuminated by the moonlight, there was no turning back. To be continued...