What Does a Super Weak Minor Lord in the Sengoku Era Aim For? - Chapter 8

Eiroku 3rd Year, January 4th – Yagyū Road, Yamanaka Yūzaburō

The sound of “goro goro goro…” echoes as the packhorse pulling supplies lazily follows behind me.
Just like yesterday, I’m traveling on horseback again today. However, where I rode at a fast pace yesterday, today I’m moving at a slow pace. 

To be honest, my backside is killing me. There hasn’t been a moment for the pain from yesterday to subside.
Still, this is something I’ll have to get used to—I just have to endure it.

The ones leading the horse are Sakukichi and Manzō, whom Jūzō and Shinsuke assigned to accompany me. 

Starting today, I’ll be staying at the Yagyū dojo for intensive training. This kind of live-in training is mostly self-sufficient, so the supplies loaded on the packhorse are meant for that purpose—mainly rice, miso, and sake.
It’s quite a large amount for just the three of us, but there’s a reason for that.

While I’m away, Jūzō will be staying at my estate, overseeing strategy, logistics, and personnel. I’ve instructed everyone to refer to him as “Chief Retainer.”

Shinsuke is in charge of leading the military. For now, his focus is on recruiting and training foot soldiers. I’ve instructed him to recruit men who are available even during the busy farming seasons.
If we were to try to gather hundreds of soldiers all at once, that would be difficult, but for now, we’re only taking a few from each village, so it should be manageable.

The reality is that war is imminent. Depending on the situation, we may have to launch a campaign to secure the surrounding villages by the end of the month.

I’m counting on the village elders and chiefs, as well as the two previous generations of leaders, to handle the negotiations with the neighboring villages. The elders have extensive connections, life experience, and knowledge, making them ideal for persuasion.
Sometimes, an unexpected story from the past can open up new possibilities and help us understand our potential allies.

Additionally, I’ve instructed the merchants and traveling traders who frequent various regions to form an intelligence network—the Suwaha group—to gather information on enemy territories.

Even if someone isn’t suited for farm work or soldiering, I’m also gathering those who are skilled with their hands or proficient in calculations. There will be plenty of work for them as well.

The problem is, we’re running out of time, don’t have enough people, and on top of that, we have no money.
It’s a triple hardship, but we have no choice but to push forward with whatever we can do.

Leaving Hōyō, we pass through Hirashimizu and then take the Yagyū Road. Yagyū is not far.
After traveling about three ri (roughly 12 km) through the mountain roads, where patches of snow still linger in the shadows, we arrived in the morning.

The first thing I do is visit Yagyū Munenori’s residence.

“Lord Munenori, I have come as promised. I humbly ask for permission to train at your dojo. Additionally, I would like your approval to stay by the riverbank while I am here.”

“Lord Yamanaka, welcome. You are free to use the dojo at any time—day or night—to your heart’s content. I have already informed my disciples of this. Furthermore, I have prepared a room for you. You are no longer the same Yamanaka as before. You are now the only allied provincial retainer of the Yagyū clan. There is no need for you to sleep on the riverbank anymore.”

Yagyū is famous as a village of martial artists, attracting vassals and sons of powerful families, wandering warriors on training journeys, and all sorts of other visitors. Among them are also suspicious, dubious figures.

However, Masakizaka Dojo, located midway up a small mountain, isn’t very large and cannot accommodate everyone. Moreover, mixing important political figures’ sons with questionable wanderers would be unwise.

Because of this, an open-air dojo was built on vacant land by a small stream below. Those whose backgrounds are unclear must train there first.
Only those who prove their character and skill in that setting are later permitted to train at the main dojo.

Scattered around the open-air dojo are crude huts where these trainees live while devoting themselves to their training.
These individuals are collectively referred to as “Kawaramono” (riverbank people) for convenience.

Yamanaka Yūjirō had also once been a “Kawaramono”, living and training on the riverbank. That’s why I had expected to do the same. However, since a room had been prepared for me, I could now devote myself to training even more intensely.

“I deeply appreciate your consideration. I will begin training immediately.”

After placing my belongings in the prepared room, I entered the dojo. It was just before noon, and those training at this hour were the sons of vassals, guests from influential families across the land, and a select few “Kawaramono” who had earned the privilege.
The vassals of the Yagyū family, who had their daily duties, could only train early in the morning or in the evening.

I sat by the wall, aligning the memories in my mind with the movements of the disciples before me.
The result? No major discrepancies.

Alright, I should be able to manage this…

Just then, a man with a smile approached me. There was a nostalgic feeling about him.

(Tōnai Munemasa…)

Tōnai Munemasa was one of the senior Kawaramono and acted as their leader.
Back when the other me—Yamanaka Yūjirō—was here, we were both part of the Kawaramono, close in age, evenly matched in skill, and quickly became friends.

In other words, Munemasa was one of the few friends I had in this era.

“Yamanaka-dono, shall we have a match after so long?”

“Tōnai-dono, let’s do it.”

I picked up a wooden sword and faced Munemasa.
Slowly, just as I remembered, I took a Seigan stance and locked eyes with him.

He tilted his head slightly at my stance before suddenly striking from the lower guard with a diagonal Keisa slash.

A dry “kan” sound rang out, and my hands tingled slightly. I took a step back and compared the moment to my memories.
The tingling was from taking the strike too directly. I needed to deflect it at an angle, dispersing the force.

Stepping forward again, I took my stance and spoke to the puzzled Munemasa.

“Once more, the same strike, please.”

He complied, and this time, as his wooden sword came toward me, I adjusted my grip, tilting my fist slightly upward to receive the blow.

A dull “kashii” sound echoed as I successfully blocked the strike.

Now for the other side… Alright.

Next, a strike to the torso… I should step back to evade this one.

Then, a thrust toward my throat!

“Whoa—!”

I barely managed to raise my wooden sword in time to deflect it. Damn it, this guy doesn’t hold back, even against a beginner.

Irritated, I instinctively swung my wooden sword in a reverse kesa slash.

Oh crap…!

That was close—I almost shattered his shoulder. I barely managed to stop in time.

“Munemasa, why the hell didn’t you block or dodge?!”

But Munemasa just stared at me in shock.

“What’s going on, Yamanaka-dono? You’re like a completely different person!”

“…Sorry. That’s because I am a different person. I’m Yamanaka Yūjirō’s younger brother, Yamanaka Yūsaburō. I’m a beginner when it comes to wooden sword sparring. Please take it slow with me.”

“A younger brother? Seriously…? But what was that attack just now…?”

“Apologies. You came at a beginner with such a merciless thrust, and I just reacted on instinct…”

“Haha! I see. Alright then, let’s go through it slowly, step by step.”

“I appreciate it.”

That attack earlier… It was an adaptation of sōjutsu (spear techniques).
Hōzōin-ryū spearmanship—it’s probably just on the verge of being fully established in this era…

If I remember correctly, its founder, In’ei, was slightly older than Yagyū Munenori. That means he’d be around my age. I might run into him one day.

But as he belongs to a completely opposing faction… I might end up fighting him.

Hmm… That’s a bit troubling…

That day, Fujinai drilled me hard in training.

As a token of gratitude, I brought some sake with me after dinner and visited the huts by the riverbank.
Familiar faces greeted me—comrades I had trained with here before.

That said, my whole body was aching. Muscle pain everywhere.

“Ughhh…” I groaned as I turned over in bed.

A little pathetic, but it couldn’t be helped.

It just hurt too damn much not to make a sound…