The name of the great swordsman begins in Okehazama.

The next morning, the frost was as heavy as snow.

Led by Hosokawa Fujitaka, Nagayoshi walked through the winding corridors of Nijo Castle and arrived at the shooting range on the west side.

The area was open, and three targets stood a hundred paces away, their straw bullseyes appearing and disappearing in the morning mist.

Are we going to play archery again today?

One person was already waiting on the sidelines.

He was about fifty years old, with a stocky build and eyes full of murderous intent; he was clearly a warrior who had fought on the battlefield for many years.

"This is Ogasawara Nagatoki, the Shogun's archery instructor," Hosokawa Fujitaka introduced. "The Shogun heard that the Ashina school also values ​​archery and horsemanship, so he specially invited the two of you to exchange skills."

Ogasawara Nagatoki. Nagayoshi silently repeated this name in his heart.

This man was from a prominent family in Shinano. He was known as one of the "Four Great Generals of Shinano" along with Murakami Yoshikiyo, Kiso Yoshiyasu, and Suwa Yorishige. However, he suffered repeated defeats in his struggle against Takeda Shingen. He once served under Uesugi Kenshin, but later switched allegiance to Ashikaga Yoshiteru.

Historically, this man was exceptionally brave and skilled in archery and horsemanship, yet he never managed to recover his homeland and died far from home.

After the Tokugawa family established the shogunate, they took pity on him because "although he had suffered hardships, his will remained unchanged," and enfeoffed his descendants as daimyo with 150,000 koku of rice.

"I have long admired Takeshi Ogasawara." Nagayoshi bowed respectfully.

Ogasawara Nagatoki returned the greeting, "I am but a fugitive. As for you, sir, your swordsmanship was highly praised by the shogun yesterday. I have heard that you once taught the Asai clan archery, so your archery skills must also be quite remarkable."

"I know a little bit. I would appreciate your guidance, Master Changshi."

Ogasawara Nagatoki said no more and walked to the bow rack. He took down a seven-foot square bamboo and rattan bow.

"The Ogasawara-ryu archery method has eight sections: footwork, torso construction, bow setup, firing, drawing back, meeting, separation, and final strike. Each section has a fixed pattern; a slight error can lead to a huge mistake."

He stood still, feet shoulder-width apart, facing the target sideways. He nocked the arrow, drew the string, and his movements were fluid.

Hold your breath and loosen the string.

With a muffled "thud," the arrowhead embedded itself deeply into the bullseye, its fletching trembling incessantly.

"Great!" Hosokawa Fujitaka exclaimed loudly, deliberately.

Ogasawara Nagatoki nodded slightly, his face showing no smugness, but rather a hint of bitterness. He handed the bow to Nagayoshi: "Please."

"This is the essence of the Ashina school's 'Kanaka Hisa' technique..."

The sound of the wind. The early winter morning breeze swept through the shooting range, brushed against the withered grass, and brought the scent of the distant mountains.

The bow rang out. The heavy rattan bow in his hand swayed like giant wings in the breeze.

Sensing the direction of the wind, the breath of the bow.

Changqing opened his eyes.

"Do!"

The second arrow struck the fletching of the long-shot arrow precisely, splitting the wooden shaft in two and embedding the arrowhead deep into the bullseye, almost perfectly overlapping the hole of the first arrow!

Hosokawa Fujitaka's mouth was agape, and he forgot to close it. The standing samurai stared wide-eyed, some rubbing their eyes, thinking they were seeing things.

Ogasawara Nagatoki took one step forward, then another, and another, almost staggering as he ran.

He walked to the target, his fingers trembling as he traced the broken surface of his arrow.

"Unbelievable? Hitting a willow leaf from a hundred paces is already a feat, but I never expected to see two arrows in succession today."

He strode back to Nagayoshi, and then, to the astonishment of Hosokawa Fujitaka and all the samurai, bowed deeply, his forehead almost touching the ground.

"Please accept me as your disciple."

Changqing was stunned. The former guardian of Shinano had actually become his disciple just like that? That was too absurd. He wasn't some Sengoku succubus.

"Ogasawara-sama, this..."

Please agree!

He stepped forward, lowered his voice, and said, "I can see that you are no ordinary person. With your assistance, Lord Nobunaga conquered Mino in three years, and his future is limitless. In the future... if there is an opportunity, could you help me recover my homeland of Shinano?"

So that's why... My Iwamura Castle is right next to Shinano, no wonder.

But having this person around would be a good thing if he could instigate the powerful clans of Shinano in the future.

"I will inform Lord Nobunaga, and when the time is right, I will certainly lend you a hand."

Ogasawara Nagatomo closed his eyes, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Changqing helped him up and looked at Hosokawa Fujitaka.

The man's submissive gaze suggested he was not surprised that his lord's retainer had sought help from a distant daimyo.

All of this was clearly orchestrated by Ashikaga Yoshiteru, who was furious that Takeda Shingen had failed to keep his promise to seize the entire Shinano region, and now he wanted to use the Oda clan to promote the power of the shogunate.

……

On the morning of the third day, Changqing was sitting in the guest courtyard wiping his beloved knife.

These past two days, he'd felt something was off about the atmosphere, though he wasn't sure if it was just his swordsman's intuition.

He packed his things and prepared to bid farewell to the general.

Hosokawa Fujitaka led him to the west wing, saying only that "the general is entertaining distinguished guests today and will meet with Nagayoshi in the afternoon."

Historical memories churned in my mind.

In May of the ninth year of Eiroku (1566), the Miyoshi Triumvirate and Matsunaga Hisahide led an army to launch a surprise attack on Nijo Castle, where Ashikaga Yoshiteru fought bravely and died.

History has changed. Mino fell three years earlier, and the Takeda army invaded Imagawa sooner, so why couldn't the Eiroku Incident have happened earlier?

Changqing suddenly stood up, walked into the courtyard, and listened intently.

Not right.

He pushed open the courtyard gate, but the corridor was empty. The two warriors who should have been guarding this place were nowhere to be seen.

As we turned the last corner, the stench of blood filled the air.

Five corpses lay across the corridor, all of them the general's personal guards. Their armor was ripped open, and blood stained the tatami mats. They had been dead for no more than fifteen minutes; the blood had not yet completely congealed.

Changqing crouched down to examine the wound; the cut was deep and narrow, the work of a master. He looked up towards the main hall, where he could faintly hear shouts of battle.

The Yonglu Coup broke out ahead of schedule.

Damn it, let's run!

Changqing and the general were not related, so of course, saving his own life was the priority. Just as he was about to slip away, three warriors surrounded him and, without asking any questions, raised their swords and slashed at him.

"I was just passing by!" Changqing argued.

"Even those who pass by will die. No one will leave the General's Palace alive today!" the samurai sneered.

Changqing steadily drew his sword.

"It's a deal!"

The first strike pierced a samurai's throat.

The second strike severed a samurai's arm.

The third blow came as the third man raised his sword to strike, but the sword had already pierced through his head.

In the blink of an eye, three lives were lost.

The red-armored general outside the courtyard gate narrowed his pupils slightly.

He raised his hand, and more than twenty warriors surged into the courtyard like a tide.

Their formation was loose but orderly, clearly composed of seasoned veterans, with five of them already drawing their bows and nocking arrows.

"Release the arrows!" the general shouted.

The bowstring twanged as several arrows pierced the air.

Instead of retreating, Changqing advanced, charging forward three steps, his blade flashing like a silver barrier.

Three arrows were deflected by the blade, and two grazed past my shoulder.

In that instant, he had already charged into the ranks of the sword-wielding warriors.

The knife rises, the head falls.

As a samurai's head flew off, his eyes were filled with disbelief and astonishment.

Changqing moved like a ghost, weaving through the flashing blades and clashing spears.

But there are too many enemies.

A cold arrow grazed his cheek, leaving a bloody mark. Another spear pierced his sleeve, tearing off half of it.

You can't fight head-on in open areas.

He forced back his enemy with a single strike, then retreated swiftly, grabbing a pillar and crashing into the paper door.

"Chase!" the red-armored general said coldly.