I Formed the Strongest Swordsman Group-Chapter 54: Two Against Eight! The First Death Match! (1)

Aoto chatted with Butagaya a little longer before saying his goodbyes.
After leaving the Magistrate’s Office, Aoto immediately swept his gaze around, searching for his bodyguard.
He found Saitō quickly—under three pigeons…
Saitō was still standing beneath the stretch of stone wall directly opposite the Magistrate’s Office gate.
He stood perfectly upright, hands crossed over the worn sword hanging at his right waist, unmoving like a statue. The only part of him that moved at all was his eyes, which blinked with a steady, rhythmic cadence.
Perched on his head and each shoulder were three fat pigeons.
The pigeons seemed to have really taken Saitō for a statue; they half-closed their eyes and constantly adjusted their plump bodies to sit more comfortably on his head and shoulders.
Saitō made no effort to shoo the three pigeons off; he simply continued to stand motionless.
A stoic samurai who did not move a muscle, with three fat pigeons perched on his head and shoulders—this odd sight naturally drew plenty of attention from passersby.
People walking past Saitō glanced back repeatedly, looking him over with eyes full of puzzlement and curiosity as they studied this unsmiling youth…
When Aoto located Saitō, Saitō also saw Aoto exiting the Magistrate’s Office at the same moment.
Like a dog shaking off water, he gave his body a few sharp shakes.
“Coo-coo-coo—!”
The three pigeons on Saitō finally realized the place they’d been sitting was not a statue and flapped off with a few startled wingbeats.
Watching the three fat pigeons fly away into the sky with a slightly open-mouthed, dazed expression, Aoto turned his gaze back to Saitō, who was now striding briskly toward him.
“...You stood by that wall and didn’t move the whole time I was in the Magistrate’s Office?”
Saitō nodded.
“Standing like that the whole time—don’t your legs or waist get sore?”
Saitō shook his head. “I like sitting quietly, standing quietly, and zoning out.”
Are you a sloth?!
Aoto took a deep breath and forced down the urge to comment.
“...Fine. If that’s your personal preference, I won’t say anything more.”
Saying that, Aoto motioned toward home with his chin.
“Let’s go, sloth—Saitō, come back home with me.”
“Why return home?”
“There was a band of thieves at Fujisawa-shuku on the Tōkaidō. The Magistrate personally named me to take charge of the case. I need you to accompany me to Fujisawa-shuku.”
...
Back home in Hatchobori, Aoto returned at top speed and immediately ordered Kyūbei to prepare luggage for the trip.
They did not need much—Fujisawa-shuku was close to Edo, a round trip would take only about six days—so they packed a few changes of clothes, a couple of spare straw sandals, and some rations.
“My young master, Saitō-sama, here you are.” Kyūbei handed two pointed, snowproof straw hats and two black cloaks that reached to the calves—designed to block wind—to Aoto and Saitō.
Aoto had specifically asked Kyūbei to prepare a set of straw hat and cloak for Saitō as well.
Their household happened to have an extra set of cold-weather gear that could be lent to Saitō.
Saitō studied the straw hat and cloak Kyūbei handed him with an inscrutable look that gave nothing away.
“...Thank you,” he said to Aoto.
“You don’t need to be polite.” Aoto smiled faintly at Saitō. “If you catch a cold, I’ll be in trouble too.”
Aoto briskly draped the cloak over his shoulders, adjusted his straw hat, and slung the cloth pack full of luggage over his back.
“Kyūbei, while I’m away, please keep the house well. If luck’s with me, I’ll return in six or seven days.”
“Yes!” Kyūbei, kneeling on the floor, bent his back and gave Aoto a solemn bow. “My young master, Saitō-sama, may your martial fortunes be auspicious.”
All five highways start at a place in Edo called Nihonbashi.
As the name suggests, Nihonbashi is a huge wooden bridge.
Serving as the starting point for the five major highways that connect the country’s key points, Nihonbashi naturally became the busiest, most bustling spot in Edo.
Centered on this giant wooden bridge were countless shops and stalls; every kind of tradesperson clustered here.
Specialty stores catered to travelers visiting Edo.
Teahouses, taverns, and inns offered lodging to merchants and travelers journeying the five highways.
Street vendors, knowing the crowds here, hawked all manner of goods.
Travelers, peddlers, wandering monks, anxious officials, courtesans recruiting customers, beggars sprawled on the roadside—every facet of life seemed concentrated on Nihonbashi.
After saying farewell to Kyūbei, Aoto and Saitō moved through the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd of Nihonbashi, one after the other. Seeing the scene that rivaled a train station at peak travel season, Aoto shouted back to Saitō:
“Saitō! Stick close! Don’t get left behind!”
Saitō nodded emphatically.
Aoto led the way, cutting a path through the dense crowd toward the Tōkaidō.
But at that moment—
Just after Aoto passed in front of a teahouse, several figures stepped out of the teahouse and quietly melted into the mass of people.
Using the crowd for cover, they followed behind Aoto and Saitō from a distance…
Leaving Nihonbashi, pushing past the jostling crowd, and turning onto the spacious Tōkaidō, Aoto suddenly felt the world open up.
In the strictly hierarchical society of the Edo Period, everyone’s roles were clearly defined.
For example: officers of Aoto’s rank, Dōshin, were not allowed to ride horses. Even when assigned to travel for official business, they had to go on foot.
Thus, Aoto, ordered to go to Fujisawa-shuku, had to rely entirely on his own two legs.
Higher-ranking officers like Yoriki, such as Arima or Tōjō, were allowed to ride horses.
People of the era commonly counted Yoriki by horses—like “one mounted Yoriki,” “two mounted Yoriki.”
Once they entered the Tōkaidō, the road offered nothing but the well-trodden path, a pale winter sky, the occasional lonely tree by the roadside, and travelers or caravans passing by…
Saitō truly made Aoto feel what it meant to travel with someone who might as well be alone.
To pass the time and to get to know the bodyguard who would likely accompany him for a long stretch, Aoto kept trying to find things to talk about.
But Saitō was the embodiment of a conversation killer; he responded to Aoto’s attempts either with “hm,” “oh,” or “fine,” or simply shut topics down, making it impossible to build any conversational rhythm…
“Saitō, where’s your hometown?”
“Akashi Domain.”
“Akashi Domain… I remember that domain is west of Kyoto. I don’t know much about it. Does Akashi have any specialties or sights?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t looked into it.”
“...Yesterday, Arima-sama said you were an old acquaintance. How did you and Arima-sama meet?”
“I don’t remember clearly. When I came to, I already knew him.”
“...Do you have any favorite foods? If we’re at the post station, you could eat free and have them prepare something you like.”
“No favorite foods.”
“...Any foods you dislike?”
“None.”
“...”
This was hopeless! Completely impossible to talk to!
Talking to Saitō was even more torturous than traveling in silence.
Giving up on forcing conversation, Aoto fell silent and trudged on.
After some time, the people and vegetation around them thinned.
The clear sky dimmed a bit and small flakes of snow began to fall.
The snowflakes drifted like tiny spirits falling from the heavens.
In moments, the world before them was sealed in snow; everything blurred into a hazy white mist.
Luckily, since both wore snowproof straw hats and windproof cloaks, Aoto did not feel too cold.
To reach Fujisawa-shuku they had to pass five post stations: Shinagawa-shuku, Kawasaki-shuku, Kanagawa-shuku, Hodogaya-shuku, and Totsuka-shuku.
Aoto tilted the brim of his straw hat up slightly and checked the sky above.
“Saitō, we need to pick up the pace a little. We have to reach the first post station, Shinagawa-shuku, before dark.”
Saitō nodded.
The moment Saitō nodded—
Scr—!
Saitō came to an abrupt stop; his straw-sandaled feet scraped the snow with a dull grinding sound.
As he stopped, he slowly raised his head from its slight downward angle.
Two arrow-like gazes shot out from under the hat brim and pierced the road ahead.
“Hm? Saitō, wha—”
Aoto didn’t finish his sentence; his voice cut off.
His expression slowly tightened as he, like Saitō, fixed his gaze forward.
By the roadside ahead stood a huge, dead tree that would have taken three adults to encircle with their arms.
As Aoto and Saitō both halted, like a magic trick, figure after figure—tall and short, stout and thin—stepped out from behind that dead tree, filed into a straight line in front of them, and formed a human wall that completely blocked their path.
“Tachibana Aoto! Finally caught you alone again!”