Tsubasa took five days to gather the materials for Inoiki's chakra weapon.
During that ti, Inoiki remained in the guest house of the mansion, waiting patiently. He spent his days in silent ditation, refining his control over his abilities, but he also took the ti to visit the makeshift infirmary where the wounded ninjas and samurai were being treated.
Many of them had lost limbs—hands, legs, even entire arms—severed by the very blades he had controlled. The resentnt in their eyes was unmistakable, though none dared to voice their hatred aloud.
But Inoiki didn't need to hear their words to know what they felt.
With his sharpened ntal abilities, he could sense their emotions as clearly as if they had scread their hatred at him. The bitterness, the grief, the silent fury—it all pulsed in the air around him.
Yet he remained indifferent.
They had chosen to fight. They had followed Tsubasa's orders without question. And in this line of work, they had always known that death or permanent injury was a possibility. Their fate had been sealed the mont they stood against him.
In truth, they should direct their resentnt elsewhere—toward the man who had sent them to their doom.
Tsubasa had used them as nothing more than expendable pawns, hoping to drain Inoiki's chakra reserves in a desperate bid to gain the upper hand. But that plan had failed.
Now, all that was left were the wounded, nursing injuries that would stay with them forever.
Inoiki cast one last glance at the infirmary before turning away.
What they felt didn't matter. He had never cared for unnecessary bloodshed, but he also wouldn't lose sleep over the casualties of war.
----
On the fifth day of Inoiki's stay in Tetsuyuki Town, Tsubasa finally sent his butler to summon him.
The butler stopped outside Inoiki's room and knocked gently before speaking. "Lord Inoiki, Lord Tsubasa has called for you. The materials are ready."
A mont of silence followed. Then, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from within. The door creaked open, and Inoiki stepped out, his expression unreadable. "Let's go," he said simply.
The butler led him through the mansion's halls to Tsubasa's office. As Inoiki entered, his sharp gaze imdiately locked onto a large scroll resting on the ground.
Tsubasa, standing nearby, straightened and gestured toward it. "Lord Inoiki, all the materials have been prepared and sealed inside this scroll using the Enclosing Technique."
Inoiki gave a small nod. "How much were you able to acquire?"
Tsubasa swallowed, knowing how much was at stake. "One hundred and twenty kilograms—the exact amount you requested." Fearing Inoiki's displeasure, he quickly added, "I did everything I could to secure it."
For a mont, Inoiki remained silent, studying Tsubasa with a piercing gaze. Then, he nodded again. "You've done well. You've earned yourself a life by delivering what I asked for. Good for you." His tone was calm, but the underlying ssage was clear—had Tsubasa failed, the outco would have been much different.
Without another word, Inoiki raised a hand, and the large scroll lifted from the ground, floating toward him as if weightless. With a flick of his fingers, he secured it in place using his Psychokinesis.
Then, in a blur of motion, he turned toward the window. In an instant, he was gone, shooting into the sky like a streak of light.
By the ti anyone rushed to the window to catch a glimpse of him, he was already outside Tetsuyuki Town, vanishing into the distance.
----
Tsubasa let out a long, weary sigh of relief. "Thankfully, that disaster is gone," he muttered.
The butler stood silently beside him, offering no response. He knew better than to speak when his master was deep in thought.
After a mont, Tsubasa straightened and turned toward him. "Gather all the samurai and ninja who are still capable of fighting—those who haven't lost a limb in that battle against Inoiki. We're leaving Tetsuyuki Town."
The butler's eyes flickered with understanding, but he remained composed. "Understood."
Tsubasa's expression darkened. "According to the information I received from my father, the Daimyo has already learned of what happened here. Troops are being prepared as we speak. We have no choice but to retreat before they arrive. I once commanded an army of a thousand, but now? They're broken, unfit to fight. Keeping them here would be nothing short of a death sentence."
The butler gave a respectful nod before swiftly departing to carry out the orders.
Despite his losses, Tsubasa still had one undeniable advantage—his father, a trusted adviser to the Daimyo. That connection had allowed him to secure the materials for Inoiki, even in the aftermath of his devastating defeat. And now, it would ensure his survival.
This wasn't the end. He would regroup, rebuild, and reclaim control over Tetsuyuki Town.
It was only a matter of ti.
----
Inoiki took three to four hours to return to the capital of the Iron Country, soaring through the sky with relentless speed. The mont he reached General Mifune's mansion, he descended at the gate, but as expected, no guards attempted to stop him. His presence was already known, and entry was granted without question.
Word of Inoiki's return had already reached Mifune, who wasted no ti making his way to et him. The general had been well-inford of the events in Tetsuyuki Town—the Daimyo's plan had unfolded exactly as intended.
With a controlled motion, Inoiki set the large scroll containing the chakra weapon materials onto the ground before him. His piercing gaze t Mifune's as he said, "I've collected everything as promised. I trust your Daimyo will keep his end of the deal."
Mifune nodded, his tone firm yet reassuring. "The Daimyo is already aware of your success. He has instructed to personally take you to the finest blacksmith in the Iron Country."
Inoiki gave a small nod of approval before asking, "What about Kenta? He was supposed to send additional materials. Are they here?"
Mifune gestured toward a nearby servant, who promptly brought forward another smaller scroll. "Yes. Kenta managed to secure fifteen kilograms of the material and had it delivered."
Inoiki's expression remained unreadable as he processed the information. With all the necessary materials in hand, the next step was clear—his weapon would finally take shape.
...
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