I formed the strongest swordsman group.

Chapter 1194: Both the strongest opponent and the best friend
When I was little, I really disliked my older brother.

Because he was born deaf, he was unmoved no matter what I said to him, and would just stare at me blankly.

We're siblings close in age, yet we can't communicate properly... Over time, I've grown to hate my brother more and more.

Why can't you hear my voice?
Having never experienced kinship or friendship due to family misfortune, I crave love more than anyone else, but the person closest to me cannot hear my desperate cries.

Besides being deaf and mute, his strange behavior also infuriated me.

As far back as I can remember, my brother would always carry a straight wooden stick and run to the open space next to our house, swinging it around wildly and striking various poses in a very professional manner.

Is he teaching himself swordsmanship?
Seriously, who does he think he is? A swordsmanship prodigy? Swordsmanship isn't something he can just learn whenever he wants.

Perhaps because he couldn't hear, which greatly reduced his contact with the world, my brother was always immersed in his own world.

Only when he is practicing swordsmanship will he show a rich variety of facial expressions.

At other times, he always presents himself with a blank expression and no emotional fluctuations.

His indifferent, detached demeanor only irritated me more and more. I just wanted to get as far away from him as possible and make him disappear from my sight.

However... however... although I'm very reluctant to admit it, I actually envy my brother a lot...

More than once I've thought: This guy is so lucky to have such an addictive hobby, which allows him to temporarily escape from his awful reality...

My dislike for my brother stems from the frustration of not being able to communicate with him and not being able to understand him.

The dislike for parents is a complete and utter loathing.

I have never met my father.

When I asked about my father's identity and whereabouts, my mother would only give vague and impatient answers... I guess she didn't even know who my father was.

After all, she was a well-known prostitute who slept with different men every day. The birth of my brother and me was purely a side effect of failed contraception.

With so many clients, it's probably impossible for her to figure out who my brother's and my fathers were, even if she wanted to.

If I had to find a woman in the world who is closest to the word "wandering," I think it would be my mother.

He was addicted to alcohol and gambling, and made a living by selling his body. As soon as he earned some money, he couldn't wait to squander it all at the gambling table, and this cycle repeated itself.

To her, my brother and I were useless burdens.

"You two useless things!" "It's all your fault! You've made me have less money to buy wine!" "You'll drag me down to my death sooner or later!"... In my memory, my mother never showed a gentle side to my brother and me.

All I can recall are his furrowed brows, his eyes blazing with anger, and those extremely sarcastic and biting words.

She would only give my brother and me a few coins when she was in a good mood.

A full stomach is a rare sight, hunger is the norm... In order to survive and to fill my stomach, I learned very early on which wild vegetables and miscellaneous vegetables were edible.

Even when he was so hungry he was dizzy, my brother wouldn't show the slightest sign of pain. He would still keep a straight face and practice his swordsmanship every day without fail... And this became another reason why I envied him: even though his stomach was empty, he still had plenty of energy.

As time went by, instead of correcting her lifestyle, her habits became increasingly absurd.

His alcoholism and gambling addiction grew stronger.

It's easy to imagine that her unrestrained lifestyle would inevitably ruin her health.

Her once somewhat attractive appearance gradually faded.

Her once plump body gradually withered.

As a result, her former patrons abandoned her one after another.

With her income plummeting, she turned to alcohol and gambling to cope with her pain... The mother became increasingly trapped in a vicious cycle, ultimately leading her down a path of no return: debt.

Because she was a prostitute without a stable income, legitimate money lenders would never lend her money.

The only ones willing to lend her money were the underground banks run by the Yakuza.

Borrowing money from the Yakuza is easy, but repaying it is not so easy.

The debt, piling up like a snowball, was simply beyond the means of a mother who was destitute.

Therefore, only half a month after borrowing money from the Yakuza, the thugs responsible for collecting the debt began to frequently visit my home.

The thugs' shouts and insults as they demanded payment, along with my mother's pitiful pleas for mercy, cast a new shadow over my already utterly chaotic life.

That period was so dark that I don't even want to think about it.

However, to my utter surprise, during this dark period, my relationship with my brother unexpectedly changed.

On my sixth birthday, the Yakuza came to collect debts as usual, smashing the few remaining pieces of broken furniture in the house; my mother, as always, knelt on the ground, pressing her forehead to the floor, begging them to give her a few more days.

The reason I remember my birthday is because every year on my birthday, my mother would pretend to say how much she suffered on the day she gave birth to me, and that I should remember her kindness and repay her well in the future.

Having grown accustomed to suffering, I no longer expect to have a happy birthday.

But... on his annual birthday, he still had to endure the shouts of the Yakuza and his mother's wailing...

So annoying...

Quiet……

Stop arguing...

Please... just consider it my birthday present... shut up... let me have some peace and quiet...

At that moment, I desperately wished I could be deaf like my brother.

In this way, you won't hear those annoying noises.

I hugged my legs tightly, hugged myself tightly, and huddled in a corner of the room, waiting and enduring...

Suddenly, a pair of small hands reached out from behind and tightly covered my ears.

I turned around in surprise and saw my brother sitting behind me, covering my ears tightly with his hands, one on each side.

He remained unchanged, his face expressionless, his features as cold as a doll, yet his palms burning hot.

A gentle warmth reached my ears, then traveled down my neck to my heart.

That day, my brother didn't go to practice his sword. Instead, he stayed with me, covered my ears, and helped me stay away from the noise of the world.

That day, I nestled in my brother's arms and didn't want to leave for a long time.

That day, I realized for the first time how warm a person's palm could be.

That day, I felt curious about my brother for the first time.

I want to know what he's thinking.

I want to communicate with him like a real brother and sister.

So I began to study his eyes and gestures, trying to understand his thoughts by focusing on his facial expressions and body language.

Although it's a tough job, it's perfect for passing the time.

Gradually, "studying my brother" became my daily interest.

My monotonous and painful life finally gained a few bright spots... Just as this thought crossed my mind, the moment that would drastically change my life arrived...

Shortly after my sixth birthday... It was a cloudy day. I picked some withered wild vegetables outside and then went home as usual.

As soon as I stepped into the bare hall, I saw six Yakuza men rushing towards me.

Before I could react, they hurriedly pulled out rope, tied my hands and feet tightly, and then hoisted me onto their shoulders like a dog, ready to take me away.

The sudden turn of events left my mind blank.

What happened?
Why are they tying my hands and feet?

Where are they taking me?

In an instant, my heart pounded with a frightened rhythm.

Without a doubt—if I were taken away by this group of Yakuza, I would fall into an abyss of no return!
In despair, all I could do was call out "Mom" over and over again, hoping my mother would save me.

My mother was lying on her side on the floor not far from me, with her back to me.

No matter how I called her, no matter how much I cried and shouted, she wouldn't turn her head to look at me...

At that moment, I understood everything...

Although I was still a very young child, I already showed a handsome appearance that was quite different from other children my age.

For the Yakuza, a child like me must be an excellent commodity.

For my mother, I must be the perfect tool to pay off her debts.

Overwhelmed by despair, I forgot to scream, forgot to struggle...

A solid, powerful footstep pulled my consciousness out of the mire of despair.

It's brother.

The older brother, carrying the wooden stick worn smooth from countless hours of handling and swinging, stepped half a step across the entrance, blocking the Yakuza's path.

"What? Kid, you want to have a go at us?"

"Hey, if you don't want to suffer, get out of my way!"

"Huh? This guy is pretty handsome. Let's take him with us. Some perverts like this kind of handsome little boy."

My brother glanced at me, my face streaked with tears... but he still maintained that indifferent, expressionless look.

However, in that instant, I vaguely sensed anger emanating from him.

Without a second thought, he strode forward, heading straight towards the Yakuza...

...That day, the six Yakuza who came to arrest me were beaten by my brother until their brains splattered, and their blood and internal organs flowed all over the ground. They died in a gruesome manner.

The mother, having witnessed such a horrific scene, suffered a mental breakdown and became a madwoman who lost her mind.

The government, which is usually slow and inefficient, unusually displayed high administrative efficiency, swiftly issuing an arrest warrant and offering a hefty reward for my brother's and my head.

Countless officials poured out, setting up an inescapable net.

Left with no other choice, my brother and I fled into the mountains and forests, moving through the woods like wild men, carefully avoiding the pursuit of the officials.

During the battle against the Yakuza, my brother was seriously injured and could barely walk.

This is to be expected; after all, he is just a child under ten years old. It is simply too much to ask him to kill six adults head-on while remaining unharmed.

I could only support my brother as the two of us limped away to some unknown distance.

How can we evade the pursuit of the officials?

Where are we going?

How are we going to live from now on?

I have no idea about any of the above... I can only hope to go to a very far place, a place where no one knows my brother and me.

As it turned out, I underestimated the dangers of the mountains and forests... Just two days after escaping into the mountains, my brother and I were on the verge of death because we couldn't find food or water...

Perhaps it was a blessing from heaven, because after my brother and I collapsed from exhaustion, an unremarkable-looking, travel-worn young man suddenly appeared before us.

"...Children, are you all alright?"

The young man glanced at my brother and me, then said softly:

“It seems you have suffered a lot… I have also suffered a lot; I have just lost my beloved children… If you don’t mind, come with me.”

That concludes our encounter with Lord Orochi.

With the help of Lord Orochi, my brother and I survived.

Many things happened after that... Lord Orochi revived the nearly disbanded Hojuku Group and renamed it the "Hojuku Party".

Meanwhile, the older brother, with his innate swordsmanship, became the recognized top fighter of the Law Extermination Party and also Orochi's personal bodyguard.

As I spent more and more time with my brother, I discovered that he was far more sentimental than I had imagined.

To repay Lord Orochi for raising him, he took his duty as a "bodyguard" to the extreme.

Those who dare to harm Lord Orochi will be mercilessly purged by him.

After the night we escaped our hometown together, the estrangement between my brother and me completely disappeared, and our relationship grew stronger and stronger, to the point that we were almost inseparable.

However... even though I can read my brother's eyes and sign language, I still don't understand what he's thinking.

What are his thoughts on the future?

He chose to stay with the Hoju Party to repay the kindness of Lord Orochi.

Will he continue to serve the law and punish the party after Lord Orochi's death?
If he were to leave the Party and the Law Enforcement Party, where would he want to go? What would he want to do?
My brother and I seem to be separated by a veil of mystery.

Whenever I try to get close to him, I always get lost and wander around in this fog.

Only now, as my brother and Niou engage in a life-or-death duel, have I finally gotten a little closer to his heart.

Although I couldn't see clearly because of the distance, I could clearly sense that when my brother was slashing at Niou, he was showing a happy expression that I had never seen before.

As if struck by a sudden inspiration, I suddenly understood my brother.

Because he was born deaf and unable to communicate normally with others, he was always very lonely.

To alleviate his loneliness and soothe his solitude, he could only devote himself to swordsmanship, spending his days with his sword.

His exceptional talent enabled him to reach unimaginable heights of ability.

Even Shuten-dōji, who could freely enter the "state of no-self," was far from being his match.

Therefore, the older brother always longed for an opponent who could make him give it his all.

To him, anyone powerful enough to kill him is his closest friend!
My brother's heart may never have grown up; it has always been like that of a child.

He clumsily protected his younger sister, like a child.

Like a child, single-mindedly repaying one's benefactor.

Craving friends like a child.

Having broken free from the shackles of "repaying the debt to Lord Orochi," he finally got his wish and could pursue his own ambition—to befriend Aoto, who was capable of killing him.

……

……

"elder brother……"

I knelt beside my brother, stroking his face as I whispered:

"That's great...you've finally made a friend..."

"..."

My brother turned his head and gave me a deep look.

He must have heard me.

He closed his eyes contentedly, a faint smile playing on his lips.

……

……

Qingdeng stood quietly to the side, his face showing no excitement at killing a powerful enemy.

Looking at the now lifeless Ootakemaru, he felt the complex emotions in his heart intensify.

He belatedly realized the true nature of this complex emotion—an indescribable sense of desolation.

He would never forget his duel with Ōtakemaru.

They fought each other, but also learned from each other... It's likely that a duel like this will never happen again in the rest of his life.

Upon witnessing Ōtakemaru's death in battle, Aoto felt no joy of victory, only a sense of desolation, as if he had lost a close and like-minded friend...

Considering that he and Ōtakemaru are the only two people in the world with the talent of "the one who connects the worlds," this sense of loneliness becomes even stronger.

Ah Ling reacted quite calmly to her brother's passing.

After tidying up Ootakemaru's hair a little, she looked up at Aoto:

"...Your Majesty, may I take my brother's body with me?"

Qing Deng answered without hesitation:

"Please."

"Grateful."

After offering a brief expression of gratitude, Aling carried Ōtakemaru's body on her back and headed north without looking back.

Qingdeng stood still, silently watching the brother and sister leave.

Only after the latter's figure had almost disappeared from his sight did he turn around, bandaging his wounds with strips of torn cloth as he hurried back to the center of the battlefield, where the sounds of battle had ceased.

……

……

"Tachibana-kun, are you... are you alright?"

Kondo Isami rushed over and was shocked to see Aoto's forehead, arms, thighs, and other parts of his body wrapped in thick strips of cloth.

"I'm fine, not seriously injured. How did it go? Did you find Orochi?"

Kondo Isami nodded vigorously:
"Yes! Found him! He's in this tent!"

Upon hearing this, Qingdeng turned to look at the camp in front of him.

Dozens of soldiers had surrounded the tent, making it impossible for anyone inside to escape.

Outside the tent, Itsumade, who had suffered numerous wounds, lay in a pool of blood, his life extinguished.

Kondo Isami explained in a timely manner:

"This man was a hero; he would rather die than retreat. He took more than ten blows before collapsing from exhaustion."

Qingdeng nodded and said slowly:
"You all wait outside the tent. Do not come in without my order."

Having said that, he strode forward and rushed into the tent.

As soon as he entered, he saw the Yamata no Orochi sitting upright.

Seeing Qingdeng suddenly appear, Orochi curled the corners of his mouth and chuckled a few times:

"Niou, we meet again."

*******
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If all goes well, the final chapter and epilogue will be released tomorrow...

Sigh... Even though I was mentally prepared, when the day of its conclusion actually arrived, I still felt a mix of emotions! (Crying leopard.jpg) The story of Nioh is finally coming to a temporary end. (Tearful leopard head.jpg)

My new book is out!
The book is titled "America: The Great Chase of 1924".
Please be sure to bookmark this and read it regularly!