Chapter 16: Silver Soul (Era of the Expulsionists)-This Is True Love(Madman)

Kakakura Take has recently been troubled by a small confusion. Many people have told her that her complexion finally possesses a hint of vitality, that her face now carries a touch of human liveliness.

“It doesn’t seem to have changed much—still the same face…” She squatted by the water bucket, gazing at her reflection on the surface, scrutinizing from left and right, yet she saw no obvious difference. Eventually, she gave up her inspection and began to wash her face.

Perhaps the Celestials had entered a period of dormancy, for they had not launched sudden attacks recently. This granted the anti-foreign army a brief respite. Though they were not yet at the brink of total depletion, resources were scarce, and the war crept forward with arduous steps.

“Kakakura, hurry up! If we’re late, Kumamoto will be angry,” Ando called as he ran to her side. He had now been reassigned from logistics to the frontline unit.

“I’ll be ready soon, you go ahead.”

“Alright, I’ll go first. Don’t be late,” Ando said, dashing away.

Kakakura Take swiftly wiped her face, emptied the bucket, and raced toward the training ground. She was relieved not to be the last one to arrive. Once everyone had assembled, training began—another tedious, grueling day.

In this relentless routine, Kakakura Take honed herself day by day. Her swordsmanship had improved considerably, and for this she owed much to Kumamoto. Kumamoto had taken her under his wing, offering private lessons after daily training, even teaching her some sword techniques from the Direct Shadow Heart Style. Kakakura Take was deeply grateful; in the past, such dojo techniques were reserved only for their own disciples, and entry to these dojos was limited to the wealthy and privileged. Yet Kumamoto was imparting these secrets to her now.

“Vice Captain Kumamoto, I’m not a disciple of your Direct Shadow Heart Style. Is it alright for you to teach me these techniques?” Kakakura Take asked, wooden sword in hand, facing Kumamoto under the setting sun.

Their wooden swords met with crisp, sharp sounds. Kumamoto repeatedly aimed at her hands and chest, and Kakakura Take dodged swiftly.

“It’s fine. The current situation is precisely because we sword-bearers once clung to our own ways—complacent, arrogant, selfish. Kakakura, in the future, help me teach these techniques to more people. Let every citizen in our country grow strong! Let us no longer be oppressed by the Celestials!”

Her wooden sword was knocked away. She looked at the man holding the sword and was reminded of her father—she saw that same gaze again, the samurai gaze: resolute, upright, full of conviction. Since coming here, she had witnessed that gaze countless times—from the White Demon, Governor Takasugi, Mr. Katsura, Vice Captain Kumamoto, Uncle Ueda, and others. They were all inheritors of belief.

She hoped that one day she would possess such a gaze herself. Kakakura Take picked up her sword, pointed it at Kumamoto, and said, “Vice Captain Kumamoto, let’s continue!”

“I’ve told you, just call me Kumamoto, Kakakura!” Kumamoto smiled, raising his wooden sword for another strike. “Kakakura, your sword is too straight. Whenever you pick up a weapon, you disregard your own safety. Remember, rigidity is easily broken. You have to learn to protect yourself.” Kumamoto drove his sword toward her chest, and Kakakura quickly blocked it. “Thank you for your guidance, Kumamoto.”

A month passed. The weather was warming, though nights remained chilly. Kakakura Take still slept embraced with Sakata Gintoki. She could now face the morning stirrings of a man with composure, but peaceful days are always fleeting—they were soldiers, after all, on the battlefield.

The Celestials’ period of rest was over. They returned, armed with new swords, guns, and cannons. Kakakura Take was summoned to the front—assigned to the vanguard. Before departure, Katsura delivered a pre-battle speech: “Vanguard troops, you are the tip of the spear, piercing the enemy’s heart! Thank you for paving the way—let us follow you and slaughter the Celestials so none escape alive!”

“Kill!”

Everyone raised their weapons and shouted with fervor. In such an atmosphere, Kakakura Take’s own blood boiled. She raised her sword and cried out with the others: “Kill! Kill! Kill!” Each shout made her chest burn with both anxiety and excitement—a readiness to lay down her life for the nation. She was prepared for the worst.

At most, it would mean death.

“Advance!” At Takasugi’s command, the anti-foreign army marched forth in grand formation, Kakakura Take’s unit led by Sakata Gintoki at the very front.

Kakakura Take looked up at the figure leading them—the silver curls dancing in the cold wind, the usual lazy visage now solemn, crimson eyes fixed straight ahead, appearing reliable and steadfast, Kakakura thought.

In the next moment, Sakata Gintoki leisurely lifted his right pinky and dug into his nostril, extracting a black lump which he wiped onto Katsura’s glossy black hair. Katsura was blissfully unaware, still wearing a face of righteousness (or was it vacant innocence?).

This man is hopeless! Kakakura Take thought. Sakata Gintoki is someone who shatters your expectations.

Yet, seeing his usual antics, Kakakura Take felt a strange reassurance.

“Kakakura, are you afraid?” A large palm landed on her shoulder. She turned to see Kumamoto.

“A little, and also excited,” Kakakura admitted shyly.

“I understand. My first time on the battlefield felt the same. Once you’re out there, surrounded by enemies, wave after wave, everyone’s eyes go red with killing intent.” Kumamoto laughed, ruffling her hair. “Here’s a tip: follow that guy. Our captain may be unreliable in daily life, but on the battlefield he’s dependable. He rescued me on my first battle. I’d like you to rely on me, too, but you’ve already bested me.”

“Thank you. I’ll do my best not to drag everyone down, Vice Captain Kumamoto. I want to fight alongside you all, not hide behind you,” Kakakura Take said, looking at him.

“You always take things so seriously,” Kumamoto said with a chuckle.

They crossed the valley and climbed the dirt slope, arriving at the enemy’s position. Across the vast barren ground, Kakakura Take saw the Celestial army on the opposite hillside. Their ranks were orderly, clad in gleaming armor, each wielding advanced weaponry. In contrast, the anti-foreign army wore battered wooden, iron, and copper armor, wielding weapons that were missing parts and heavily worn—an utterly impoverished and ragged sight.

Yet none of this shook their confidence in victory. They possessed the courage to use their own bodies as weapons.

With the blast of a horn, the anti-foreign army’s banners began to flutter. At Takasugi’s command, the vanguard charged. Kakakura Take gripped her sword and rushed forward with the other soldiers toward the Celestials.

The soldiers shouted, their momentum surging as they attacked. The Celestials’ bizarre faces bore smug, contemptuous smiles—they regarded the anti-foreign army with disdain, inside and out. The anti-foreign attack was, to them, like mice teasing a tiger. The Celestials raised their guns and fired several volleys.

Amid flashing blades and flying bullets, Kakakura Take saw people ahead of her fall one after another. This did not frighten her; it only steeled her resolve to fight even harder. In such an environment, individual actions are swept along by the group—no one around her retreated, and she did not wish to retreat either.

“Kill!”

“Kill the Celestials, clear the way for our brothers!”

“Take revenge for our comrades!”

Countless impassioned cries surged like furious waves, driving each soldier forward. They advanced over the bodies of those who had fallen, rushing at the Celestials.

Kakakura Take dodged countless bullets, watching as they struck those beside her—some familiar, some strangers—all now fallen. Yet she could not stop. On the battlefield, it was kill or be killed. To win, one must face death with courage.

The Celestials charged at them, wielding various weapons, and soon both sides were mixed together in fierce combat. Blood and flesh splattered everywhere, severed limbs scattered about, lifeless bodies, mud-caked heads staring blankly. Both Celestials and anti-foreign soldiers fell.

No quarter, no surrender!

One, two, three, four, five… Kakakura Take lost count of the Celestials she had slain. Her sword eventually broke, so she picked up another from the ground and continued hacking. The path she carved was strewn with gore—her face, if she saw it now, would frighten even herself, more terrifying than a demon.

After breaking yet another sword, she grew impatient. She spotted her favorite weapon—a spiked club—in the hands of a dead fox-headed Celestial. She rushed over and seized it, smashing it into enemy after enemy. It felt much more comfortable in her grip.

The purpose of this battle was also to seize Celestial resources. The vanguard, including Kakakura Take, had to break through and open the way for the main force to raid the Celestial headquarters, steal their supplies and weapons, and then capture their general for transfer to the western front. The anti-foreign army planned to harass the Celestials with guerrilla tactics, to wear them down.

Once the vanguard had shattered the Celestial formation, the main force encircled from three sides, splitting into smaller groups to hunt down scattered Celestial soldiers. The largest force charged straight for the Celestial rear. The Celestials were caught completely off guard—they had placed their best soldiers and weapons at the front, leaving their rear defenses thin. Now, with their front lines broken, they had no time to reinforce their rear.

The Celestials had intended a swift, decisive victory to wipe out the anti-foreign army, but had not anticipated Takasugi’s contingency plan. Now, with their front shattered and their rear encircled, they were beset on all sides. The Celestial general, seeing the dire situation, quickly ordered a ceasefire and retreat—they were planning to flee. They had ample supplies and weapons, so abandoning this base was no great loss, far better than dying here. They fled decisively.

But the Celestial general had not anticipated being caught by Takasugi after only a short distance. Takasugi was exceptionally patient in his schemes, flexible and cunning. When he set his sights on prey, he would use every method to achieve his goal. Long ago, he had targeted this base, discovering that its commander was General Gornwana of Guardstar.

Gornwana, the youngest son of the Guardstar Marshal, was a spoiled scion sent to Earth to gain prestige. To the Guardstar people, Earthlings were primitive and backward, fit to be bullied, posing no danger whatsoever. Thus, Gornwana was sent here. The Marshal doted on his youngest, outfitting his troops with the best supplies, making little Gornwana a fat lamb in the eyes of Takasugi the wolf—an irresistible prize for the governor.

Takasugi stood with his sword, sneering at the trembling dog-headed Celestial before him. This half-man, half-dog was Gornwana, who resembled a breed of Earth dog—Husky. He wore black military attire, his sword long since knocked away by Takasugi, since the young lord didn’t know how to use it, wearing it only for show.

It was a tremendous victory—a sweeping triumph. The anti-foreign army seized all Celestial resources, and what pleased Kakakura Take most was that she finally got to eat meat! The joy of victory was made all the sweeter by such spoils.