A Time Traveller's Guide to Feudal Japan
Author: <unknown>
Date: 2021-11-08T23:01:12.273000+00:00

Chapter 1: The Rice Fields

"Technological genius – Kasai Gengyo."

That seemed to be the only title people could use to describe him.

In his field of robotics, he was amongst the best. But that was all he had in his life – his work. The man never once desired the fame, or the money that came with his success. A simple life. Enough money to feed his family and live comfortably – providing that he had a family in the first place.

His only friend was his own creation. The world's first A.I. more intelligent than any human – SAPPHIRE. SAPPHIRE then produced an A.I. more intelligent than itself, and the process repeated. Till in the end, the peak of artificial intelligence was reached – the SAPPHIRE-1000.

Gengyo did not release this technology to the world.

No. He kept this technology to himself and at the age of 40 years old, he had one final question for it.

"Would it be possible for me to travel through time? To a simpler place… without computers. Somewhere where I can start a family in peace."

The response from the system was instantaneous.

[Request confirmed. Beginning transition…]

Gengyo was startled. He had not expected it to begin right away – he merely wanted to confirm the possibility.

"SAPPHIRE-1000! Wait! There are too many neg-"

But his voice was cut off as the room around him started to dissolve, replaced by an infinite blackness.

…

…

It was May in the province of Mikawa, and the rice fields were being ploughed and levelled ready for this year's seedlings. All the peasants above a certain age were helping out in the fields.

"Oi… Yoritomo, don't you think it's unfair that people get away with doing less work than us?"

"Mmm, yeah the old women and stuff… and Miura over there…"

"Look at him, Yoritomo. He's even got the nerve to take a break when he barely does any work."

"Huh? You're right… fuck. That's annoying. We could probably mess with him a bit, what d'ya reckon, Aritada?"

Aritada took a quick glance around the field to see if anyone was looking. No one would stick up for Miura, but still, it would better to do it without anyone noticing.

Everyone else was still hoeing away, eyes on their task. The sun was high and the day was scolding. The bamboo hats helped to take the worst of the heat away from the head.

Chuckling, Aritada's eyes narrowed as he picked up a stone and took aim.

Gengyo received a sudden blow to the temple, startling him out of his thoughts.

He felt the wound on his head with his fingers, as they returned sticky with blood.

'This pain... This blood. The sensations are too real for it to be a dream. But this body is certainly not my own - my hands were never this small, or this young.'

He glanced toward the two teens who were jeering at him, celebrating a successful strike.

Yoritomo was hunched over howling with laughter.

"Hahahaha, what a throw. The look on his stupid face!"

Whilst Aritada had a pleased expression on his face.

"Mmm, that'll teach him to slack off!"

Gengyo could hear every word of their conversation, and it did not take him long to piece the events together in his head.

'So… This is a different body? Interesting. I had wondered how my body might be able to deal with the stresses of time travel, but it seemed that was the wrong line of thought Still, this is quite the odd happening.'

The problem of time travel had been broached by many scientists, and the most reputable concluded it impossible. Einstein supposed that one would have travel faster than the speed of light – which is impossible for anybody with mass. Indeed, he was right. But who needs the body in order to time travel? Sentience is weightless.

But of course, such a conclusion was not the hard-earned result of a human mind. It was borne of the quick calculation ability of the SAPPHIRE-1000 A.I. system.

'Judging by the dress – those worn, ragged kimonos that are much too short, and those simple sandals on their feet. And the tools they're using… It seems I'm somewhere in the Edo period. Perhaps even earlier.'

"What a freak... That way he's looking at us, man. Does he want another stone his way?"

'Mmm. I appear to be the source of quite a bit of animosity. Was the previous host of this body a weakling? Perhaps. For now though, it would be best to keep my head down, and perform as is expected of me, so that I can gather some information.'

Wisely choosing to ignore the antagonism of the teens for now, Gengyo wielded his hoe with an enthusiastic vigour.

"Wow… look at him go. Perhaps we should throw more stones at him in future? At this rate he's going to be doing double the work."

Yoritomo nodded in agreement, whilst leaning on his hoe and with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Well, guess we can rest a bit. We deserve it right?"

"Too right. We shouldn't even be here man. We're soldiers! Look at these arms."

"Yeah. You're right. Totally right. We should be in old Yoshimoto's army getting ready to conquer Owari.

Gengyo heard every word they uttered, and froze slightly at the mention of 'old Yoshimoto' and Owari.

"Haha, listen to you calling our lord Imagawa 'old Yoshimoto'. You're a bold man Aritada. We'll definitely get our chance as soldiers – and then the whole of Japan will be calling our names. Yoritomo of the thousand cuts! People will travel from all over Japan just to bear witness to my swordsmanship."

'Shit… You're kidding. Imagawa Yoshimoto? To think, people refer to me as a genius, yet my own creation seems to have gone against me. Not only did SAPPHIRE send me back without asking for confirmation, it also sent me to a time as rotten as this. Peace - that was the plan.'

"Stupid… you don't even know how to swing a sword yet. Anyway we're definitely going to be yari…"

Yoritomo flinched a little at that, and scratched his head. He knew the truth of Aritada's words. The peasants would be merely be yari ashigaru – simple spear units – or if they had some skill with the bow, they might be might be yumi ashigaru.

"Hmph. Maybe I'll get some good loot in Owari and be rich enough to marry into a samurai family. Then I won't have to do this stupid ploughing anymore."

"Dream on. You know what the samurai families are like. There's no way they'll marry their oh-so-pure daughters off to peasant scum like us. You've seen the way the landowner looks down on us. He treats his fucking oxen better than us!"

At that Yoritomo grinned lecherously.

"Yeah, those women aren't as pure as you reckon. I've seen a few of them drunk – they're even dirtier than the village girls. Some even gave me some action – they may as well have married me."

"What bullshit. You can't even get the village girls to look your way with a mug like that. No chance those pompous little samurai daughters would even spare you a word – never mind their bodies."

"Whatever. Your loss."

The lamentations of the two peasant teens were heard by Gengyo, and he shared some of the sentiments as he continued to hoe at the ground.

'Mmm. The life of a peasant in this time period is tough, with the food taxes and compulsory military service when the landholder calls. In order to live as long as possible, and have any chance at starting a family, I'd have to…'

Gengyo froze his digging on that line of thought, and quickly admonished the plan he was about to propose.

'No. I can't spend this life dedicating myself to work just for the sake of money. It'll be better if I just enjoy what I can with my lot. That will surely be the most fulfilling way to live. Establish myself amongst the lower rungs - they'll be less drama that way.'

Unfortunately Gengyo's small pause was noticed, and another stone came his way.

This one missed – but only by a fraction.

Gengyo looked toward the two teens, only to have Yoritomo shout at him a second later.

"Back to work, shrimp!"

"Yeah you little bastard, it's time you start doing the same amount as the rest of us."

Gengyo studied them with his 40-year-old gaze. They were rather ordinary looking. Not that big, or that muscular, but still the previous host seemed to be completely at their mercy.

'You'd have to be rather weak to be pushed around by these two.'

Even though their actions were violent, he felt more pity for them than he did aminosity. Their behaviour would be correct, in time, but it was disappointing how ignorant they were. For them to behave so confidently despite their lack of any kind of assets was truly a wonder indeed.

But still, he resumed his hoeing without a hint of resentment. It was better not to cause a scene – at least not here.

Gengyo was not unattractive in his previous life, nor was he entirely socially incompetent. It was mere lack of experience caused by over devotion to his craft that was ended up being his weakness.

At the very least, he could confidently look in the eyes of these two pathetic children without fear and without flinching. It was not because of some false arrogance, or a lifetime spent receiving the approval of others. It was simply because he knew their experience to be inferior. No forty year old was going to be pushed around by some snot-nosed brats.

"Man. He's pretty obedient eh? Makes me want to be a samurai even more – having people like that under me."

Aritada looked toward him irritated.

"Can you stop with that shit? It's depressing, man. We can only hope to do well as soldiers. Being a samurai is impossible for us."

Gengyo continued to diligently hoe away. He was unused to the mental strain that physical labour brought, and he was beginning to tire.

'There's got to be a better way of doing this.'

Of course, ploughing could be done using oxen or horses, but Gengyo did not have any of those luxuries available to him. What he was looking for was a difference in technique.

'Like this?'

He adjusted his arms slightly, allowing the weight of the tool to do the work for him.

'Mm. Much easier.'

After reducing the strain on his muscles, he continued to think about his current circumstance.

'I don't know anything about the previous guy's life, or family or anything… It should be my priority to gather as much information as possible.'

Unfortunately, as the time travel was done as a transfer of sentience, only the accumulated experiences and memories of that belonged to him were kept.

His current situation was rather complicated for someone who sought a simple life, given the circumstances of the province in which he was inhabiting, and the social class he now belonged.

And so, he pondered upon the task ahead.

'Given that the land is being prepared the month, should be May. The battle of Okehazama will at most be in a month. Imagawa is going to start calling his men before then… so I need to immediately begin training the bow and get into a yumi unit to avoid being on the front line. That way my survival rate will be much higher.'

'And, since that battle was a complete slaughter for the Imagawa, I'm going to have to find a way of changing history a little…!"

…

…

A few hours passed, and an elderly peasant overseeing production on behalf of the landowner announced the end of the day.

"Oyyyyy. Day's over folks. Go home and get some dinner.'

At this Gengyo panicked slightly. He had no idea where his home was, nor who his family members were. He looked around the rice fields wildly for any sign of a family member.

'Sleeping outside on my first night here is going to suck. I wonder if this kid even had any family? Maybe I'm an orphan now…'

With the panic still running riot through his mind, he began to follow the crowd of people already leaving the field.

That was, until, a hand found its way to his shoulder, and the voice of a young woman filled his ear.

'"*Sniff* Tadakata-chan, you were really going to go home without me?"

Chapter 2: A Broken Home

Gengyo turned around as the scent of a woman filled his nostrils. His gaze was curious and calculating.

A pretty young woman stood before him. She was blessed with big eyes that hid a certain mischievousness and innocence. Her long black hair was held in a bun under her straw hat, and her full lips and small nose were well proportioned.

'A family member perhaps?'

"Ehhh… how could you look at your sweet little sister with those mistrustful eyes? What have I ever done but look out for my Nii-chan?"

There was an innocent smile on her lips. The type of smile that Gengyo had learned to mistrust long ago. She'd definitely done something, perhaps a prank of some sort.

Moments later he began to feel an itchy sensation on his lower back, as though something was crawling down there. The sensation travelled upwards until it reached near his right shoulder. He resisted the almost unbearable urge to scratch, after coming to a conclusion as to the source of such discomfort.

"A bug, eh? This sensation… Mmm a house centipede?"

He reached back into his kimono, grabbing the critter with his finger and a thumb before holding it towards her with a hint of triumph, he asserted his victory.

"Wha? Aren't you scared of bugs?"

She seemed a little impressed, but there was a stronger sense of dissatisfaction there. It seemed she had very much wanted to see her brother roll around in discomfort.

Much to her dismay, Gengyo did not fear that which he had knowledge of. And insects were a hobby of his as a child.

When Gengyo was 12 years old, he wrote a paper on jumping spiders and submitted it to the curator of a museum. The curator had sent a letter back, stating how impressed he was by the paper, and expressing his desire to meet with Gengyo. His parents had intervened upon receiving that letter, explaining that Gengyo was but 12 years old.

As you can imagine, with all this knowledge, his expression was extremely nonchalant. The house centipede wiggled madly in his grip, its legs flailing creepily.

"Why would I be? Even if they're poisonous, it's easy to isolate the poison and get rid of it. It is they who should fear humans."

His new sister leaned in close, and carefully checking his face for any abnormalities, before putting a hand to his forehead.

"I'm not sick."

"Mmm… but Nii-chan you're so strange today. You're even talking differently."

Her hand cupped the side of his head half-jokingly as she felt around for any bumps.

"Wah… what's this?"

She'd found the bloody gash caused by the stone from earlier.

"Those two again..? They're hurting you more and more lately... You need to stand up for yourself Tadakata!"

Gengyo could not help but smile at her concern. Despite her playfulness, she seemed like a rather caring little sister. It must have been tough for her having an older brother like Tadakata.

'Don't worry, they'll get their due.'

He chose that moment to change the conversation and marched ahead.

"Come on. Let's head home."

"Uhmm Nii-chan you're going the wrong way…"

Gengyo flinched and turned back, slightly embarrassed.

"Uhh, I think my memory is a little messed up from that stone earlier. Please lead the way."

At this, his sister's worry only heightened. Gengyo felt a little bad but it was the only fitting excuse for his lack of Tadakata's memories, so using it was unavoidable.

His sister – whom he did not yet know the name of – walked over to him, gazing into his eyes worriedly as she ruffled his hair.

It was as though she was the older sibling.

"A stone? Those horrible dogs! Grrr… Really Tadakata, I'm not joking – they need to stop. It's too dangerous. One day they're really going to hurt you."

At this Gengyo simply nodded, and followed by her side as they walked down the muddy path, into a forest and towards their small home.

…

…

The scene as they opened the door was not pleasant. A middle-aged man – seemingly drunk – was squaring up to a taller man who was a good deal younger. It appeared to be his son.

"The fuck? You think you're a big man now that you've grown a little? Eh? Too good to pour your old man a drink."

A middle-aged woman floated around the corner of the room, desperately looking as though she wanted to intervene, but couldn't find the right opportunity.

"Uhm… dear I think—"

"No mother. He is right. I was being disrespectful. Please forgive my impudence father."

The older man squinted up at him in his drunken stupor, trying to detect the sarcasm in his words.

"Heh, whatever. I'll pour my own drink this time."

He swaggered back to the low table, sitting down with his legs crossed before reaching over to grab himself another glass of sake.

Masaatsu retreated through a sliding door that lead outside. A short time later the sound of an axe splitting wood could be heard.

'That was rather nicely done, young man.'

Gengyo praised in his head. It was rare to see a youth capable of controlling his emotions so well.

The middle-aged man brought the drink to his mouth before smacking his lips together in satisfaction.

"Mmm! Delicious."

It was only then that he noticed Gengyo and the young girl standing to his side.

"Ehh, Rin… and the one who's even more useless than Masaatsu… Why didn't you let us know that you were home?"

There was an edge to his voice, as though he was daring them to provoke him further – seemingly encouraged by his victory over Masaatsu.

Rin responded on both their behalves, as she dragged Gengyo into the room towards their mother by his hand.

"We're home…"

"Heh. Good."

"Welcome home, Rin-chan!"

Their young mother welcomed them sweetly, evidently happy to see them.

"You too Tadakata-chan! Was work difficult sweetie? Your mother is very proud that you're able to keep up with everyone else!"

Gengyo had to accept the praise with a false smile, not exactly thrilled to be treated as a toddler.

"Ha? Proud? The boy's a dunce Fuku!"

The man's voice was venomous as he voiced his complaints. He clearly detested Tadakata.

Fuku was a timid woman, and would normally seek to avoid conflict. But even she could not stand slander of her own children, and so chose to defend her youngest son.

"Morohira… Please don't say such things. He's a good boy. Aren't you dear?"

Gengyo did not reply. It wasn't a question that warranted a response.

"Ha? Good boy? He's a dullard! Boy's weaker than anyone else his age, and he walks around like frightened mouse. The other men make fun of me, you know? I'm getting shit off them because of my own bloody son! Aren't sons meant to make their fathers proud? Or even just be normal? But no, instead that little shit's got to be the worst piece of trash in the province. Do you think that's fair, eh? EH?!"

Morohira stood up, walking towards Fuku who flinched and shrunk back. Only when she noticed that Gengyo was in front of her did her protective instincts overcome her, and she stood in front of him.

"ANSWER ME WOMAN!"

"Please Morohira… He tries…"

She was all but weeping at this point, as the red face of her drunkard husband pressed closer to hers.

Even the mischievous Rin was nervous, feeling the tension in the room rising, her eyes darting here and there looking for an opportunity to escape.

"Tries? TRIES? What's that word supposed to mean? How do I use that in a sentence? 'Haha fellas, my boy is trash, but he tries'. You think they're going to suddenly stop their joking and go, 'ah, well! At least he tries.' EH!?"

Fuku frantically attempted to calm him, not realizing that he would pounce on every single word she says.

"I know… but—"

'Oh god. Woman do you not see how drunk he is? It's foolish to reason with a drunk. If anything, you're making matters worse.'

"But…? You have the nerve to contradict your husband? FOUL WOMAN!"

"No! Dad, stop it!"

Rin screamed, not wanting to see them fight any longer.

Fuku's eyes filled with tears. Morohira was not a bad man, but with the alcohol in his system, he grew into something he was not.

"Father. This son apologies profusely for his inadequacies. He will work to keep from disappointing you in future."

Gengyo spoke, attempting to defuse the argument. He nailed him with the full force of his 40-year-old-stare.

Morohira could only stare in response, his mouth wide open. Never in his wildest dreams did he think it would be Tadakata who stood up to him.

"Mother, please continue preparing the food. I'm hungry. Rin, you needed the toilet right? Better get going."

Gengyo organised escape routes for the two of them before the beet red man in front of him could regain his baring.

Even Rina and Fuku could not help but look toward Gengyo in surprise. The ordinarily timid boy had actually stood up for his mother?

'Nii-san actually saved me instead this time…'

Rin thought to herself as she shot Gengyo a happy smile and disappeared out of the sliding door.

"Ah, dear, would you like some more sake with your food?"

Fuku asked as though nothing had happened, edging toward the kitchen area where her ingredients were waiting.

Morohira was stilling staring at Gengyo and he only half heard his wife's words.

"Yes… if you would…"

'Now it's my turn to leave. There will only be more trouble should I stay.'

"Father. I'm going to help brother with the wood. See you at dinner."

"What...? Oh. Alright, yes."

Gengyo swiftly crossed the room and pulled the sliding door open and crossed the threshold before his father could change his mind.

Masaatsu greeted him with a light nod as he stepped outside, before continuing to wield his axe and split the wood.

Deciding that it was not yet appropriate to speak, Gengyo leaned against a tree idly as he watched his brother work.

'He looks pretty strong. And handsome too. I wonder why the old man was still disappointed in him?'

Masaatsu shot him another glance, as he continued his work before speaking.

"I heard. Seems like father was fighting with you guys too… Sorry you had to deal with that."

Gengyo tilted his head, questioning the need for an apology, but asked something else instead.

"This happens pretty often, huh."

A question disguised as a statement, in order to hide his lack of information.

"Sure does. Mother has it the worst… but father has it pretty tough too."

Gengyo raised an eyebrow at that.

"Father? Is he not the cause of all this?"

Masaatsu shook his head, wiping the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his kimono.

"Nah, you shouldn't think too badly of him. The old man's got it tough. We're struggling for money, as you know, and he's getting pressures and stresses from all kinds of places. If the sake helps him get through – even if it means we have to suffer a bit – we just need to put up with it, buddy."

'Hoo… He's a mature kid. Probably better than that alcoholic deserves. But still, he has a point. It'd be better if we could tame this father of mine, rather than get rid of him. A normal family should have a grandfather after all.'

Chapter 3: Yumi Crafting

"Masaatsu. I have a request."

"If it's about those bullies again, I'm going to have to decline. In order to become a man of good standing you need to be able to handle things like that yourself."

Masaatsu's face was a mess of guilt as he suggested that, but still his resolve on the matter seemed rather unwavering.

Gengyo shook his head.

"No, that's not it. I will deal with them soon but for now—"

In Masaatsu's surprise, he missed the log he was intent on splitting before cutting Gengyo off mid-sentence.

"What? You'll deal with them? Before when I mentioned it you would always—"

Gengyo cut him off in return and nodded.

"Yes, brother. I intend to find some way of dealing with them, rest assured. But for now, do you have any idea where I might find some bamboo – around two metres tall would be perfect."

Masaatsu played with his long hair in thought. His tall stature and handsome face were a poster boy image for any young samurai.

'It truly is a shame how much birth decides. This kid deserves better than this.'

"Mmm. There's a cluster of bamboo further into the forest if you walk straight for about five minutes… but what do you want bamboo for? Are you going to start spear training? That'd be a good idea seeing as though we don't have long left."

"No, not a spear. I'll show you what it is when it's finished."

Masaatsu looked curious, but didn't prod Gengyo any further.

"Hehh… Well, it's getting a bit dark. Do you want me to come with you whilst you pick your bamboo?"

'Truly a good kid...'

"Nah, it's okay. The dark is a mere absence of light – there is nothing to fear. Thank you for your help, brother."

Gengyo began walking deeper into the forest with a slight wave, leaving Masaatsu to his task of chopping the wood.

'Hmm, Tadakata's changed somehow… though I can only hope he's changed enough to survive the battles to come.'

Masaatsu thought to himself as he watched the silhouette of his younger brother disappear further into the forest.

…

…

The bamboo was exactly where Masaatsu had said they would be. It was a rather dense patch of bamboo, with no apparent route through it, leading one to believe that it had never – or at least rarely – been touched.

Gengyo walked around the perimeter of the green bamboo, searching for one that met the requirements he had for it.

'Too short.'

'Too thin.'

'Too bent.'

He critiqued each piece of bamboo ruthlessly. He did not want something mediocre – something that merely did the job. He wanted something that even a master craftsman would not frown when using.

Though Gengyo had never made a bamboo bow before, he was well aware of the procedure, and using the knowledge he had of physics, he was confident he could make one that not only looked good, but was also mathematically sound, and therefore accurate.

After a good deal of searching, he managed to find it. The perfect piece of bamboo. It was tall – a little over two metres – and straight. Its diameter was also of a thickness suitable for bow making.

'Good. This just needs heat curing, and then we can get to work on the actual bow.'

…

…

Following an uneventful meal, with a more docile father, Gengyo was back outside, sitting by a fire he had set up and with a machete-like blade laying by his side.

It was almost completely dark by now, and everyone else had retired to bed before another hard day's work tomorrow.

However - spurred on by a sense of urgency - Gengyo was adamant that a bow and a few arrows had to be completed tonight, so that he might start practising tomorrow.

'Tomorrow's work is going to be tough… but it's not like I'm unused to pulling all-nighters.'

He held the bamboo shaft over the flames, only moving it along when he was sure that the area had been hardened sufficiently.

'Good.'

He nodded to himself, happy with the tempered state of the bamboo, and then he reached for his blade.

Using the blade, he measured four chips into the end of the bamboo, making sure that they were an equal distance away from each other.

And then, he pushed the blade down the shaft, using the chips as guidance so that he might cut the shaft evenly in half.

It was rather difficult to negotiate his way through the bamboo using just that simple blade, and even more so to do it with the aim of keeping it straight. But Gengyo managed, using the precise eye he had acquired from the many years spent fiddling with circuit boards.

And then he repeated the process again, so that he was left with the four even segments that had once made up the bamboo shaft.

These segments were straightened using his blade, forming four even strips of wood. The wooden strips were then placed on top of each other, and tied together using some hemp string.

At this point, you could already see the beginnings of the bow. It was able to hold a good amount of tension when Gengyo folded the ends in, and so he proceeded, satisfied.

A series of wooden wedges were then hammered in under the string, forcing the bow to assume its curved shape, and then he began to paint the bow in a glue, so that it would retain its shape even when the wedges were removed.

Whilst the bow was busy setting, Gengyo quickly made some bamboo arrows, and sharpened them after they were fletched with geese feathers. He did not have access to arrowheads, so he used to small stones to mimic the weight.

As he finished up, stringing his bow, the first light of dawn could already be seen and a sliding door began to open.

Masaatsu stepped out, fiddling with his kimono and about to relieve himself.

He only saw Gengyo as he turned his head to admire the morning woodland, and by then it was too late. Attempting to stop himself midstream, he only succeeded in soiling his kimono as he almost fell from the raised platform of the porch in his shock.

"Tadakata… What on earth are you doing!?"

Gengyo regarded him calmly, and continued adding on the finishing touches to his bow.

"Ah, Masaatsu, good timing. Finish your business and then come over and see what I used that bamboo for."

Masaatsu blushed deeply, as he dashed behind a tree, member in hand, before relieving the last of his pent-up urine.

Heaving a sigh of relief, he calmed himself.

"Have you been out here all night?"

"Hmm. Guess you could say that. Are you done? Come on out from behind that tree and check it out. I'll let you have the first shot."

'First shot?'

Masaatsu thought to himself, intrigued, as he quickly adjusted his kimono and marched over to his younger brother.

"What..? Is that a bow?"

Gengyo nodded, and handed it to him, not resentful in the slightest of his masterpiece being used by someone else.

"My god… this is fantastic! I've never held a bow this fine."

Masaatsu examined the bow, noticing the symmetry of the build and the perfect diameter of the body, and the fine upper and lower curves.

"Did you really make this? How much does it draw?"

At this, Gengyo could not help but be a little proud, for it had a draw strength that could even rival the European longbow.

"110 pounds."

"110 POUNDS? What!?! Is that even possible? I thought the maximum was around 90… and even then I've only ever used a 30 pound bow. Can I try it? Please?"

He could not help laughing at the excitement of his brother.

"By all means. Here's an arrow – try not to hit a tree. The tip will probably break."

Masaatsu took the arrow gratefully, and carefully nocked it.

"It really is 110 pounds… I can't even draw it the full way back. But if not a tree, then what am I meant to aim for?"

"Mm. A bird perhaps?"

"A bird? But I'm going to have to find one first..."

"Try that crow that's been watching us for the past ten minutes."

"What? Where?"

"To your left."

"Oh. Right… I'm going to shoot then."

"Wait, first look along the top of the arrow, and make sure it lines up with the crow's body."

Masaatsu followed his advice, and released the arrow.

It flew at lightning speed due to the immense weight of the draw, and surprisingly, the arrow was even accurate. The crow did not stand a chance.

…

…

"Mother! We can cook this for tea tonight!"

Masaatsu said, proudly presenting the dead crow.

"What's this Masaatsu-kun? How did you manage to catch a crow?"

Fuku wrinkled her nose slightly as she took the corpse from Masaatsu by its feet.

"He shot it. He's a surprisingly good aim."

Gengyo chipped in.

"Shot it? Myyy, I didn't know we had an archer in the family. Who did you borrow the bow from?"

Masaatsu put his hand on Gengyo's shoulder before lying on his behalf.

"Old man Azai lent it to us, right Tadakata?"

"That's correct. We've decided we wish to be in the yumi ashigaru."

They had agreed beforehand that it would be wiser not to let anyone else know of the bow, even if it was their own parents. A bow of such quality was considered a treasure, and Gengyo did not want his name to become too well known should the news of his skills spread.

"Yumi? Mmm, that's a good idea, dear. It's a lot more sensible than being one of the yari ashigaru. But you'll need to pass the test first—"

Masaatsu cut her off at that.

"Don't worry mother, we know how difficult it is to get in. We'll train hard and make you proud."

'Not that you'll need to train much, though.'

Gengyo thought to himself. Masaatsu's skill with the bow was unnatural – nailing a crow first shot. It could have been dumb luck but Gengyo concluded that unlikely.

Earlier - whilst using the bow - Masaatsu had asked Gengyo why he had decided to make it, since he had never shown an interest in such things in the past. It was then that Gengyo shared his desire to be one of the yumi ashigaru, to which Masaatsu firmly approved, and expressed his own desire to do the same.

"I had thought being an archer was just an excuse to not be on the frontline… but after playing around with this, I realize it'll be a lot more exciting than wielding a spear."

He had said whilst they discussed it, and now he was a veritable walking advertisement.

"I see. I'm sure your father will be proud too – we've never had a bowman in our family before."

The now sober Morohira walked in at that.

"Mm. It would be a step up, that's for certain. When I had to battle as a youngster it was always as a yari. It's not a fun role. Bowmen are people of skill, and so are treated much better. Do your best kids."

He was a completely different man with the alcohol out of his system, and Gengyo nodded with enthusiastic approval.

"I will make you proud father."

He stated solemnly.

At that Morohira could only scratch his head awkwardly, evidently recalling some of the events of his drunken episode.

"Yeah… thanks."

Fuku was beaming happily, seeing the now reconciled state of her husband and children, as they talked about their dreams for the future.

'If only this could last forever…'

She thought to herself.

'If we had just a little bit more money, perhaps it could.'

Chapter 4: Revenge

"Here's your hoe for the day Miura-kun. You worked hard yesterday – same again today please."

Old man Baba praised, whilst handing a good solid hoe to Gengyo, and then moving onto the next person waiting in line.

The day was hot, though it was still early.

'This is going to be really rough… I can barely keep my eyes open.'

The sleep deprived Gengyo thought to himself, whilst moving to his spot in the field.

All the Miura family were working in different fields to Gengyo, so he had no one to share conversation with whilst he worked, which made the day that much longer. The Tadakata of old had it especially hard, as he worked next to his childhood tormenters.

"Another hard day's work today please!"

Hijikata Aritada shouted over toward him, his voice thick with sarcasm.

His friend Yoritomo couldn't wait to join in.

"Yeah! It's bothersome for us to have to throw stones, you know?"

At this, they shared a laugh, before losing interest in the already working Gengyo who spared them no attention.

"Mmm, the ploughing is almost done, and then we'll be able to start flooding the fields. I always enjoy that part."

Yoritomo said lightly.

"Yeah, the flooding and seeding are decent. It's just this hoeing that's a pain."

Aritada agreed, leaning on his hoe as he took in the morning air.

"How many years have we been doing this for now?"

"Hmm. Well, we're 18 now… so around 3 years?"

Yoritomo smiled at this.

"Only three years, eh? We'll be soldiers soon! And then we won't have to do this shit anymore. The women will respect us too."

Aritada was a little less optimistic, and voiced his doubt.

"Dunno. We'd have to do something pretty special in order to be fulltime soldiers, else we'll be back here working this soil for the rest of our life."

"Yeah bro. That's why I've been training. If I have to work another year here I'll kill myself."

"Haha, why wait? I'm sure your family would be proud if you sacrificed yourself to fertilise the soil."

"Fuck off. Have you been training too?"

Aritada looked away before responding.

"…A bit."

"You haven't, have you? Come on man. You won't be able to do anything if you don't train. We're not rice farmers. We're soldiers!"

"Yeah, I know. Just work tires me you know? But man its hot today."

Aritada expertly changed the topic by complaining, having to wipe his brow before he'd even begun to work.

"Yeah. Speaking of hot, guess who's in our field today?"

"Who?"

"Haru. She got moved."

Aritada's curiosity was captured, and he searched the field for her.

"Where is she?"

"Over there man. See?"

"Ah… Yeah. She's fucking hot man."

"Yeah… if I could get a wife like that I'd be a happy man."

"Get lost. I had her eyes on her first."

At that Yoritomo simply shrugged.

"Well, it's up to her in the end, isn't it? She'll probably end up falling for my charms."

Not a single word of their conversation escaped Gengyo, and he smiled at this new piece of information.

'This should be interesting.'

The day passed slowly, and there were many times where the workers needed to stop in order to relieve themselves, or fetch water. Such breaks were allowed, but taking too long to do so would result in punishment.

Gengyo continued to work, straining to keep his eyes open despite the monotony of his task.

'Those kids mentioned that we'll start flooding the field in a couple of days. That should be better. Even after doing this for only a day and a bit I'm already sick of it.'

'Mm. Since this job really isn't for me, what could I do in the future to support my family? Something that doesn't require much effort… A merchant perhaps?'

'Nah… Trading would be too demanding, even if the money is good. Something simple where I just need to work during the day, and then I can go home and forget all about it.'

"Wait! It's her man. Look. Damn she's sooo good dude."

Gengyo's thoughts were interrupted by the enthusiastic urgings of Yoritomo.

"Where? Over by the water? We're going."

Aritada could not resist, and quickly began to walk towards her.

"What? Wait for me man!"

Yoritomo ran to catch up, and then blushed slightly as Haru glanced across the field towards them.

Gengyo grinned, and then began to follow.

'This should be fun.'

"Hi… Gou-san. Is the water good?"

Gou Haru regarded Aritada mildly as he desperately sought conversation with her.

"Uhm… Water doesn't really have a taste, but I guess it's nice?"

"Haha! Right. Right…"

He downed some water, scratching the back of his head wildly in an attempt to conceal his embarrassment.

Yoritomo watched from behind, shaking his head at his friend's foolish attempts. But he did not have the confidence to take his place.

"I'm Hijikata Aritada by the way, do you remember me?"

Haru shook her head lightly, concentrating more on drinking.

"Nope. Nice to meet you Hijikata-kun."

Aritada looked slightly depressed at her curt response.

'Well… of course someone as good looking as her wouldn't remember me.'

He thought to himself bitterly.

Gengyo casually moved in between the two, approaching Haru himself.

"May I?"

He asked, pointing to the water.

She motioned towards the trough.

"Help yourself."

Aritada and Yoritomo shared a glance, jealous of Gengyo's confidence, and slightly baffled by it.

'Since when was that Tadakata so confident around women?"

Aritada asked himself.

'It seems to be that even Tadakata made a better impression than Aritada did there…'

Yoritomo thought with a hint of humour at his friend's pathetic attempt.

Gengyo filled his cupped hands full of water, and stared around the field with loose disinterest as he sipped slowly at it.

He sniffed the air a few times before turning to Aritada, pulling an expression of disgust.

"That smell… it couldn't be you, right Aritada?"

"What?"

Aritada just stared at him in surprise. Not once had Tadakata referred to him so casually, so he had trouble even processing what he had said.

Gengyo simply continued on innocently, as Yoritomo watched Aritada, wondering why his friend was allowing the likes of Tadakata to insult him.

"Jeez man. That's rough. If you're stomachs that bad you can visit my place later. My mum's good at making medicines to help with stuff like that."

Haru put a hand to her mouth, struggling to hide a giggle.

It was only then that Aritada understood, and he blushed wildly, attempting to explain it away so that he wouldn't lose face in front of Haru.

"No! Gou-san… it's not like that… I didn't!"

Haru couldn't hold it in at that, and openly giggled as she struggled to respond in what she thought would be a lady-like manner.

"It's okay, don't be embarrassed. Everyone gets gas."

She quickly hurried away, as her laughter threatened to consume her, condemning Aritada to be forever unable to explain.

When she was a certain distance away, Aritada showed his true self, as he reached to grab the front of Gengyo's kimono.

"You little punk!? Do you want to get beat that badly? The fuck was all that about?"

His face was red with anger, as he held onto Gengyo's kimono, cutting off his retreat.

Yoritomo was helping too, and was behind Gengyo, locking his arms. But Gengyo had no interest in escape in the first place. He merely smiled in response to their aggression.

"Are you sure you want to do that? Old man Baba is going to walk over that mound any second now. You sure you want to get your entire family court martialled?"

Anyone slowing down the production on this land would have to either pay a fine – which Aritada could definitely not afford – or have their family will face punishment.

Aritada glanced toward the mound that Gengyo was referring to. He couldn't see Baba but that did not mean that Gengyo was definitely lying. Baba walked around all the fields as the day went on, to make sure everyone was behaving. And he had yet visit their field.

There was too high a chance that what Gengyo was saying was true. Despite how much Aritada wanted to punch him – he couldn't risk it.

"Aritada… I think he might be telling the truth. I saw Baba heading this way earlier."

Yoritomo also didn't want to have to face punishment for the likes of Tadakata.

"Fuck. Whatever. You live for now, punk. But we'll get you back. Mark my words."

Aritada pushed him backwards, releasing him, and spat in his direction before marching angrily back across the field.

Moments later Baba ascended the mound and caught sight of Gengyo.

"Miura-kun. I know the day is hot, but you must still hurry back to work."

The old man said, not too unkindly as he sent Gengyo on his way.

Gengyo was only too happy to oblige, and began to walk leisurely across the field receiving the death stares of Aritada and Yoritomo.

Gengyo merely shrugged. Though what he had done had broken the social etiquette that men should follow when courting women – never sabotage a buddy – Aritada had been nothing if not deserving of such treatment.

'It's not going to end there, either.'

Gengyo thought to himself. He would continue making their life difficult until they stopped doing the same for him, and he was confident it was a game he could win in.

'They're just a couple of kids after all.'

'Anyway. That Haru isn't even that good looking. Imagine getting that flustered just from her? Even Rin is probably prettier.'

Being the age he was, Gengyo's standards for beauty were rather high. But that did not mean he would be unwilling to have a relationship with a woman simply because her looks were not outstanding. Quite the opposite. He was simply better at defining such beauty, so he was able to maintain his cool when dealing with them.

A stone came his way, interrupting his thoughts. He regarded it lightly, and dodged with little effort required.

Another came flying, but this one was off course, so Gengyo merely glared at its thrower innocently as it flew past his head.

Aritada was fuming.

'What is up with this kid?! Since when was he like this?'

He asked himself, as he almost entirely forgot his task, and instead continued to hurl stones at Gengyo.

Gengyo continued to work, but as the stones came his way, he struck a variety of different poses, finding evermore inventive ways to dodge.

After the last stone was dodged by Gengyo nonchalantly doing a star jump, Aritada was ready to explode.

"FUCKKKKKK!!! Yoritomo, help me out would you? This little punk's making fun of me."

Yoritomo couldn't help but grin at the enraged state of his usually arrogant friend, but still assented and began to help out in the artillery war against Gengyo.

'Where are they finding all these stones? Isn't it bad to have a field so full of stones?'

Gengyo thought to himself mildly, as he lifted he held his hoe like a baseball bat, anticipating the next stone.

"What's he doing?'

Yoritomo asked, curious about Gengyo's stance.

"Who cares? Just keep throwing."

Aritada said irritated as he continued to search for more stones.

The stone was thrown and Gengyo struck perfectly with the metal of his hoe.

A loud TING resounded throughout the field, and all attention was drawn towards them.

Only, Gengyo was seen to be busy at work, whilst the two friends had disregarded their tools and were instead playing around with stones.

Some of the older workers shook their heads, disgusted with the work ethic of these two youngsters.

Gengyo could not help but chuckle. These two were far too young and innocent.

'Lunchtime is going to be fun.'

Chapter 5: A Deal

Lunchtime rolled around soon enough and Gengyo marched confidently toward the open-walled hut in which everyone was starting to gather for lunch.

Aritada and Yoritomo trailed behind him with fury on their faces. He'd made them receive the scorn of the entire field, and to make matters worse they still had not landed a single stone on him.

"Fuck… Hurry up Yoritomo I won't be able to eat until I beat that little shit up."

"Yeah. I hear you."

Rin and Masaatsu were already feasting on some rice balls, and waved to Gengyo as he came closer.

"Oyyy, how's work little bro?"

At this Gengyo could not help but laugh, recalling the events of the morning.

"To be honest, Masaatsu, I think I'm starting to enjoy it."

Rin raised her eyebrows at this.

"For someone who got nailed on the head with a stone yesterday, you sure are optimistic. Aren't those two picking on you today?"

Gengyo smiled.

"No. In fact, someone else is picking on them instead today."

"Ehh… I don't get it but if you're having fun, I guess its fine."

Masaatsu agreed, whilst handing Gengyo a ball of rice.

"Yeah, if they don't bother you that's what matters. Here you go. I'm looking forward to having meat with dinner for a change – that should be nice."

Rin looked a little curious at this.

"Are we? How come?"

"Masaatsu caught a crow this morning."

"Really? But he's never caught anything before… anyway you'd need a bow."

"Yeah, Tadakata borrowed one from old man Azai yesterday"

Masaatsu chipped in.

"Mmm… You've never been interested in stuff like that before Tadakata."

"Yeah well I—"

Gengyo was cut off by the seething Aritada.

"You. Come with us."

He forcefully grabbed Gengyo's shoulder, and started to drag him away.

Masaatsu moved to get up, as did Rin, but Gengyo shook his head and shot them a confident smile, freezing them in their tracks.

"Come on. Let's take a walk down that mound. People can see us here."

Aritada pushed Gengyo from the back, forcing him to walk forward. But Gengyo was only too happy to oblige.

Instead, he maintained his façade of innocence.

"Do you have something secret to tell me Hijikata-kun? If you want to be friends you don't need to go through all this trouble to ask."

At that Aritada brought his palm to his face before turning to Yoritomo and laughing a little madly.

"Haha… Yoritomo… I'm just going to kill him, okay?"

It seemed he'd all be broken down, as he raised his hoe toward Gengyo preparing to swing

Yoritomo quickly went behind him and secured his arms, preventing him from attacking.

Aritada thrashed about wildly in response.

"LET ME GO! I NEED TO KILL THAT LITTLE FUCKER!"

Yoritomo's grip remained firm however, as he attempted to talk some sense into him.

"Calm down bro! If you really do kill him then we're fucked. No one's going to let us get away with murder. Just calm down and we'll beat him up a bit okay?"

Aritada took a few deep breaths and stopped struggling.

"Okay… You're right. Let's get this over with."

Yoritomo slowly nodded, and tentatively released him, ready to quickly lock him down again should he attempt to attack Gengyo.

"What's wrong Hijikata-kun? You really don't need to be that embarrassed about asking to be my friend."

This time Aritada just attacked instantly, seeing red.

Yoritomo managed to secure his arms just in time before the hoe cracked open Gengyo's head.

"FUCKKKKKK THIS LITTLE SHIT! I CAN'T. HE'S TOO ANNOYING. JUST LET ME KILL HIM!!!"

"Aritada! Calm down. He's just being stupid and messing with you."

"Ok. I'm just going to hold your arms all the way there, ok? Then we can stop and beat him up."

"Nah! I've calmed down now. Let me go."

"Sorry. I don't trust you. This is for your own good, ok? Miura, get moving, yeah? No more talking from you."

Gengyo merely smiled innocently as he walked in front with a spring in his step.

"Fuck… I'm going to mess him up so bad."

"Yeah, just wait till we're out of sight. And don't touch the face, yeah?"

…

…

"Ehh? What do you mean you want to beat me up? I thought we were all going to be friends…"

Gengyo said with a hint of sadness.

Aritada didn't respond, he merely put all his anger into a fist sent toward Gengyo's stomach.

It landed, and hit hard.

Gengyo bent over, winded from the blow. He struggled to keep his thoughts sound as he coughed, struggling for air.

'Not yet… need the right moment.'

This time it was Yoritomo's turn. A kick to the side sent Gengyo sprawling on the floor.

Aritada moved in, and sent more kicks to his stomach and chest, as Gengyo used his arms to protect his face.

Aritada grew tired of the kicking, and searching for a way to make him feel more pain. He decided on blows to the back, which Gengyo would be unable to defend from.

Gengyo struggled to get up, as his whole body wracked with pain.

Their mistake lay in allowing him to stand. He had never engaged to thoroughly in martial arts or anything of the like, so his skill was questionable, and being 2 on 1 as it was, the odds were stacked against him. Yet he had something that they did not - something that had allowed him to abstain from being pushed around as a child, despite his lack of care for training. Aggression. Pure unfiltered aggression.

As Aritada came in to punch him once more, he threw himself towards the boy's discarded hoe, and snatched it from the ground.

They looked towards him, unsure, as he wielded the weapon, a certain look in his eye.

"You wouldn't dare..."

Aritada muttered, eyeing him down, but still unwilling to find out. A few bruises would be allowed to slide, but with a hoe he was liable to kill someone.

'Silly boy. This is what I was aiming for from the start.'

He took a step forward, unwilling to show fear to the likes of Miura. There was no way the likes of him would dare to strike out.

But as his foot hit the floor, the flat end of the hoe shot through the air, and connected with his stomach.

"THE FUCK!?"

Yoritomo shouted, startled. He couldn't believe it. He'd actually used the hoe has a weapon.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HIM YOU CRAZY BASTARD!"

He was furious, but before he could close the distance, and check to see whether Aritada was okay, Gengyo shot forward, and secured his target.

"Ah. Probably best not to do that, eh?"

The winded Aritada struggled for air, as the shaft of his own hoe was held at his throat tightly, with the pressure increasing all the while. From lack of oxygen he was beginning to grow blue, and his made terrifying choking noises.

It was too much for Yoritomo, who could hardly believe what was happening. Such maddened, dangerous behaviour. It was uncharacteristic of the timid Miura. Everything that had happened today had been unexpected. They had been entirely caught up in his flow, and now that he looked at them, he truly believed that he would kill his friend. He had no reason to doubt that he wouldn't.

"...What the fuck Miura..?"

He asked, terrified.

"Let him go, alright?"

"Yoritomo."

Was his calm response. There was no need to rush things. He was entirely in control of this situation, and could work towards his desired outcome at a pure and measured pace.

"...Yes, Miura?"

"Do you not think you have been rather unkind to me in recent years?"

There was an edge to his voice. They were not speaking on level terms.

"It was just a bit of fun! We never meant to... this... Please let him go man!"

"Do you think you're a good person, Yoritomo?"

The young man stared at him, baffled. It was not the kind of thing he had ever bothered to consider.

"I don't know man... Please! I just don't know..."

He was beginning to get choked up from fear, seeing Aritada's condition gradually worsen.

"I would not say you're a bad person. Neither is your friend here."

Gengyo decided, not changing his grip on the weapon.

"But the thing is, your little assaults on me - they've grown tiresome. Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

He spoke slowly, holding back a sigh. This was the opposite of what he wished would happen. There was nothing peaceful about this situation. And it was frustrating, because in order to secure peace, he had to act in a way that he considered measured. Such was the drawbacks of being an adult - as a child, he could merely hit an aggressor, and get away with it.

"I get it! We promise to leave you alone in future! Don't we Aritada?"

He desperately called out to his friend, who had almost lost consciousness. Gengyo looked down on him with an inquisitive glance, as though expecting a response. And then, as though just realizing why he was not getting one, he released his hold on his throat, and allowed him to fall to the ground.

"How about you, Aritada? You in on that deal?"

"...Screw...You..."

He spat, suddenly gaining his confidence back now that he was free. But a moment later, he was back within Gengyo's grasp.

"Ah. That's not very good, is it? Now, Yoritomo. Let us make a deal. You will tell Baba that you wish to be transferred fields, and then we can forget all this ever happened, eh?"

"But... But... We'll have to work harder if we do that."

Gengyo squinted. It was certainly not his problem.

"And?"

He pressed down harder, forcing a choke from Aritada.

"FINE! WE'LL DO IT, OKAY?"

He'd had enough. Whatever the crazed teen said, then he was liable to agree to it. He simply wanted to get out of this situation.

He threw Aritada down to the ground once more.

"Now, Aritada. I trust that you will follow through with my request? You've exhausted me. Should you think that you are safe - now that I do not have your hoe under your chin - then let me remind you of something. This happened when there were two of you present. What would happen if I were to find you alone? Perhaps young Aritada will be found in a certain river, having thought himself to be a swimmer?"

He left that threat hanging there as they scarpered away. His intent had merely been to terrify them, and leave that thread of unpredictability hanging in the air. He sat down with a sigh after they left.

'That was truly exhausting...'

He lamented. It was not how he wished for things to go, but it was a very simple way of dealing with things. Humans were essentially animals, and once they knew that they could not defeat someone, they submitted, believing their lives to be more important. Of course, there were exceptions, and it was entirely possible that they would merely come at him with a vengeance, but he judged that they would not.

Chapter 6: Connections

Masaatsu and Rita ambushed Gengyo at the door house.

"Hmm. Did you think you'd be able to get away?"

Rin would make a good criminal. Her voice was perfect, and her eyes were contaminated by a distinct touch of sadism.

Masaatsu slivered behind him, cutting off his retreat, and locking down his arms.

"Nii-san, don't you think it's time we got some truth out of Tadakata here?"

Masaatsu nodded deeply, mirroring her playful ferocity.

"But of course. We're family after all. One should not hide things from their family."

"Eh… But I haven't even tried to hide anything yet."

Rin dismissed his protests quickly.

"Silence! Masaatsu, what's our theory?"

"Responding to the lady, our theory is this: you were beaten up by the two friends Hijikata and Makino."

"You heard the man. What's say you in your defence?"

"Uhh… is this really the right way to treat a man who's just been beaten up? You're making me seem like the criminal."

"Oh but you are the criminal, Nii-chan! Your crime is not fighting back."

"Ah, that's where-"

"Masaatsu. How badly do you think he's wounded."

"My lady, I would guess not that badly. Tadakata here is a bit of a wuss – if he was injured he'd be crying about it."

"Mhm, mhm. Your reasoning is sound, Masaatsu. I'm glad to have you in my services."

"It's my honour, my lady."

"Very well. Let's reveal the truth!"

At that Masaatsu gripped Gengyo's kimono firmly, swiftly removing it from the upper body, leaving Gengyo's back and chest bare. Gengyo could not help but flinch at his rough actions, due to the many bruises that decorated his torso.

They were black and yellow and blue, and not few in number.

Rin's sharp intake of breath perfectly and breaking of character marked their severity.

"My goodness… Even for you Tadakata this is a bit much…"

Tears started to fill her eyes as she looked at the battered torso of her older brother.

"Tadakata… They did this?"

Masaatsu was seething. Despite telling Gengyo that a real man must solve his own problems, this was too far.

He stormed outside and returned with an axe.

"Let's go little brother – it's time to get your revenge."

He spoke solemly.

Gengyo was touched by their reactions, but could not help feel a bit worn out by their dramatics.

"Masaatsu. Stop."

He spoke with authority, startling his siblings.

"But Tadakata… look at yourself. They've messed you up real bad, those sick fucks. I've got to at least pay them back somehow."

"Thanks, but there's no need. I've already paid them back. They won't be bothering me again."

"Nii-san… please don't lie. These injuries are too much – let Masaatsu handle it.

Rin gently passed over his bruises with her cold hands from her now seated position in front of Gengyo.

"You two…"

Gengyo could not help but be happy. He'd never been close with his birth family, but these two here were genuinely concerned about his safety.

He stroked Rin's head gently as he reassured them.

"This afternoon – these wounds – they were my fault. I provoked the two of them."

Masaatsu recoiled at those words, seemingly remembering something.

"When you said you would deal with them… This isn't what you meant, surely?"

"Not at all brother. This was a mere piece. But I won. Trust me brother. I won."

Gengyo quickly calmed him, as he felt there was much more Masaatsu wanted to say.

Rin looked at him with big eyes, searching for any deceit behind his words.

"You're probably just saying that so we don't worry…"

"No, I'm serious. Your brother is a different man now. You won't have to worry about me anymore. It's your brother's turn to protect you."

"You keep saying that, Tadakata, but what proof do we have? You say you won? What kind of victory did you win when your body is in such a state?"

"Did you notice that those two were ahead of you both on their way home?"

"Yes..?"

"Isn't that unusual? Our field is the furthest away from the house. Why would they be ahead of you?"

"They got off early..? I don't know."

Masaatsu and Rin shared a glance as they searched for an answer to these seemingly irrelevant questions.

"In that case, I would also be home before you. Let me tell you the real reason: they were moved to a different field. I made them ask to be moved."

Disbelief plastered the two siblings faces. It made absolutely no sense for that to happen, yet the more they thought about it, the more it seemed true.

"…? How? Nii-san?"

Now that he had their attention, Gengyo was only too happy to run them through the events of the day, and share the joys he felt at executing his many plans.

He told them of the incident with Haru, at which they burst out laughing.

"Damn that was cruel little brother. Even I might have beaten you up if you did that haha. "

Masaatsu joked in response.

And then he told of them of how angry the two friends had become, throwing stones. He mimicked some of the poses he had pulled to dodge and he told them of how he had drawn the attention of the entire field, framing the two who were doing no work.

"Bahaha! Brother is too cunning."

Rin praised delightedly.

And then he began to tell them of lunch, to which they both began to lean in further.

Captivated by Gengyo's storytelling skills, their anger rose as Gengyo told them of the beating he had received, but then their expressions instantly lifted as he revealed his plan.

And then he neared the end of the tale, describing the deal he had laid out, at which Masaatsu physically patted him on the back.

"That was bloody well done, Tadakata. Really. I'm proud of you bro."

Rin didn't want to be left out, as she praised Gengyo – whom she was still clinging onto – with vigour.

"Yup! Nii-san did really good!"

Chapter 7: The Swan

It was later that evening that Gengyo finally found some time to himself. Dinner was finished with, and he was now sitting idly against a tree in an area a few minutes from the house.

'Mmm. Even if my life has been a little complicated these past two days, it sure beats sitting alone in my lab.'

He fiddled with the string of his bow as the light in the dense forest gradually started to fade.

'Hmm, the statistic that 17 hours of being awake has the same effect on the body as two glasses of wine… would that mean I'm a good drunk? I've been awake for 36 hours, and I'm still able to function rather well.'

'Of course, if sleep were possible right now, then I would go without resistance, but atlas such a thing would be foolish.'

'My time is ticking. Even if it takes every last drop of my will power, it's important for my survival, and therefore my future, that I adhere to the thoughts and plans made by a more able minded and motivated version of myself.'

'That is to say, right now, I very much do not feel like getting up from this tree. The way it supports my back just right… and the cushioning of this soil on my rear… I could just drift away now.'

'No! Snap out of it, you silly mortal.'

At that Gengyo stood up, forcing his body into action and he began to walk deeper into the forest before his tired mind could think up any anymore reasons why it might be better to rest.

'Mmm. A clearing would be nice.'

He continued on, with this as his goal. His direction remained straight so that he would not get lost on the way back.

In his hand he held the fruits of last night's labour – his bow and set of 5 arrows – and in the other he held a bundle of torn clothes that his mother – Fuku - had been about to repair but on Gengyo voicing his interest she had willingly given them to him instead.

In the distance Gengyo began to hear the sound of running water.

'Mm, a river would serve my purpose well. Along the banks there will be a clear enough area for me to practise.'

He changed his direction a little and began to head towards it, having to deal with an army of overgrown plants that got in his way.

They were not all friendly plants either. Some bore thorns that sliced Gengyo's clothes and skin whenever they managed to surprise him. Others stung him, and left irritating sores on his flesh.

He took care to carve a path through them all, using a stick that he had acquired along the way. This would allow him to be able to find his way home easily enough, and also not have to deal with the army of angry vegetation that barred his way.

Eventually – as the going was slow – the water came into sight, and with it a good deal of shingle.

There were about 2 metres of shingle along the shore, as the water lapped gently back and forth.

It was not a river, but a small lake – perhaps 50 metres in diameter. Only one shore was accessible. The other sides of the lake were shielded by trees and grasses that yielded no entrances.

'Could be an oxbow lake, given its shape, which would mean there's a river nearby.'

The scenery was rather magnificent, with the low sun reflecting off the water's edge giving the area a warm glow. Ducks navigated the water with some diving deep in search of food. Seconds later they would return with fish in their mouth.

'The aquatic life seems to be rather bountiful. Fishing here would be a treat.'

A few swans nested by the water's edge, and Gengyo took great care not to alarm them as he moved about preparing a target for his training.

'We'll set up away from those swans. I would feel bad if they left their eggs because of me.'

He wrapped his bundle of clothes around a thin tree at one end of the shore, making sure it was thick enough as not to blunt the arrow should it strike wood.

Nodding with satisfaction, he moved back around 10 paces, before nocking his arrow and drawing his bow.

'Look down the arrow and aim for the centre of the clothes.'

He repeated the advice he had given to the dead-eyed Masaatsu that same morning, and released the string.

THWANG

Despite the close distance, the bundle of clothes was not hit. Nor was it even disturbed in the slightest.

The arrow had disappeared deep into the undergrowth causing Gengyo to feel a little disheartened.

'Yeah… It was probably a bad idea to hope I'd be as lucky as Masaatsu.'

Sighing, he retrieved his arrow, before nocking, drawing and taking aim once more.

He prepared to release his arrow once more, but stopped himself, slowly allowing the string to relax.

'Last time… It went too far to the right hand side. I'm standing straight in front. The arrow travels completely straight from the bow – we've checked this – so the only fault can be with my own aim.'

This time – after drawing – when Gengyo looked down the arrow, he aligned it as he did before, but then before release he turned a few millimetres left.

THWANG

This time, the arrow grazed the left hand size of the clothes target, almost sticking.

'That's more like it.'

Gengyo was much happier with that kind of result, and praised himself for his analysis prior to aiming this time. With that, he felt he would be able to make progress – though it was likely a bit early to be feeling that kind of optimism for he was still far too close to the target.

After retrieving his arrow for a third time, he assumed his stance and made the right adjustments to his aim holding a certain confidence that he would be able to make the bullseye this time.

He prepared to release, loosening his fingers on his string.

But a sudden flash of white halted his fire, and he lowered his bow fearing the swan might get caught by his arrow.

The swan was certainly taking it's time to move, and Gengyo started to grow a little impatient.

"Come on, move will you?"

"…"

"Please? I'm trying to practise with my bow…"

He did not expect to hear the voice of a young woman tentatively offering a response.

"Sorry..."

'What?'

Gengyo was startled, and couldn't formulate a response to this 'swan' as his mind was racing.

The undergrowth and trees surrounding the swan started to stir, as that little patch of whiteness grew, revealing features that a swan certainly would not have.

"Uhm… Hello."

A lavishly dressed woman of notable beauty stepped out. She had a delicate air about her, with dark brown hair that brushed against full lips as she used her small snow coloured hands to try and hide herself as she spoke. Her captivating dark brown eyes darted from Gengyo's face to the floor and the area surrounding as she struggled anxiously with where to focus her attention.

The more time went on, the more self-conscious she grew, and a pink blush lightened her cheeks that were supported by the architecture of her high cheekbones.

The clothes she wore were no less beautiful than she – as the white yukata merely served as a canvas for a most colourful depiction of nature. It began at the bottom, with a swirling orange sea in which flame-coloured cranes stood proudly. Bamboo shoots shot from the sea, branching off toward the sleeves as they grew all the way to the top of the back and chest. Orange and yellow leaves decorated their branches, for fear that the outer parts of the yukata would not know what colour was.

In spite of all this colour, the designer still chose to keep the sleeves a most pure white, which presumably was the part Gengyo had mistaken for a swan's wing.

Finally he spoke to this swan in human form.

"…What are you doing?"

This only served to increase her self-consciousness, as she fretted about every little action she was making wondering what this man in front of her was referring to.

"Sorry…"

Gengyo shook his head, at a loss as what to do.

"That's not what I meant. What are you doing here?"

She peeked out from behind raised hands that covered the lower half of her face like a more refined gangster's bandana.

"Uhm… I sometimes come here. It is beautiful, see?"

She attempted to create a more gentle conversation with the man in front of her – a conversation that drew the attention away from her.

However, Gengyo was not so lenient as to let this strange encounter pass unexplained.

'She's clearly of a more noble birth than mine – most likely a samurai's daughter. Why on earth would she be anywhere near a forest that houses peasants like me?'

"Why here? There are plenty of beautiful places. This is a place where peasants live. It would be dangerous for a young lady such as yourself to be caught alone."

She interpreted a threat that wasn't there in Gengyo's words and grew further more anxious, before trying her best to please the man in front of her.

"The… Daddy's mansion is near here."

"Does that mean I'm trespassing?"

The girl quickly shook her head, worried that Gengyo would get angry.

"Ah, no! Uhm… please stay…?"

She was unsure of quite what else to say, but that was certainly the last thing she wanted him to do.

"Why were you hiding in the undergrowth over there?"

"I was scared… so I hid. No one else has ever come here before."

'Make sense when you think about it. The fish in this lake certainly have never been hunted by human hands.'

"Oh. Why are you wearing that?"

Gengyo pointed, referring to the yukata.

"Even if you are a samurai's daughter – are you a samurai's daughter? – it's a little unusual to be wearing a yukata at this time of year."

Gengyo deemed her not to be a threat, so he spoke more casually, leaning his bow and arrows against a rock and sitting down.

The girl took comfort in this, having his attention slightly diverted away from her as he admired the peaceful water.

"Yes. My father is Niwa Nakatane… As for this – it's a little embarrassing, I'd rather not say."

Gengyo's interest was heightened as his own theories began to swim around in his head. But he left it there.

"That's fine. Well, I'm going to be practising a little. Since you came all the way out here it would be wasteful to leave without enjoying the scenery?"

The girl tentatively nodded in agreement at that.

"It would…"

"Then, by all means, act as though I am not here."

It was an impossible request for such a self-conscious girl, but she did her best to fulfil it.

Finding an overturned log, she began to sit down.

"Ah. That's probably going to ruin your yukata."

She halted her motioned and turned to look at the log once more. It had a green sort of algae dusted lightly upon its top layer, and given the pureness of the white that made up the yukata, there was no doubt that such a colour would stain.

"It was probably a bad idea to come down here in that, but I suppose it's a circumstantial matter is it not?"

She tilted her head slightly, caught off guard by a peasant speaking with such language, but then she blushed, understanding what he was implying.

Chapter 8: Niwa Akiko

Sighing, Gengyo put down his bow and arrow and found a rock for the lady to sit on. He cleaned it with a light amount of water before drying it with his sleeve and then with a sweep of his arm he motioned toward it.

"For the lady."

She blushed at the sudden formal way in which he addresses her, but gratefully shuffled over to the rock.

"Good?"

She nodded.

"Yes, thank you."

She was now able to comfortably watch the scene that was playing out across the water, and so Gengyo concluded his role complete, and moved back toward his position and began to practice.

Within seconds, he had regained his previous level of focus, as he drew the bow string back toward his cheek.

Remembering the previous attempts, he adjusted his aim a little over to the left, but not as much as last time. After taking a deep breath to steady his hands, he released.

THWACK.

A perfect bullseye from a range of ten metres.

It took him three attempts to find the perfect shot, despite this being his first time using a bow.

Was Gengyo satisfied? Of course not.

'Three shots is too much. The range needs increasing, and I need to be able to hit the bullseye consistently from different angles.'

He doubled the distance from the target, so that he now stood twenty paces away, and he envisioned the parabolic path in which the arrow would follow – as now gravity would start to be a factor, albeit a small one.

"You're good with the bow."

Gengyo shook his head. The girl had only seen his one good shot.

"No, that is not so. Perhaps now, I might be good at making that single shot from that distance, but that is not enough to be called good with a bow."

The girl pouted slightly at her praise being dismissed so readily. She'd begun to feel more comfortable around this man as she decided that he would not harm her.

"I am a samurai's daughter you know, usually people are happy to be praised by me."

"Is that so? Will the lady bring her household guard and arrest me for not being completely humbled by her every word?"

The girl did not expect such a harsh response, and could only respond hesitantly.

"No- uhm… The uh… Anyway! I'm not a lady. Please stop calling me that."

Gengyo prepared another shot having aimed too high on the previous one as he responded idly to the young lady.

"Oh? You're a sir then? That's a little unusual… but I suppose there are all kinds of people in this world."

The girl blushed once more after being corned as such, and fervently protested.

"No! I'm a girl – a woman!"

"Oh? Mmm that might be a lie. I thought there was something different about you… but to think you were a man. What a day, eh?"

THWACK

This arrow veered toward the left of the target, but somehow managed to stick. Gengyo tutted dissatisfied.

'It should not take another three shots. The angle is the same – well, the angle of elevation isn't, but given the distance that shouldn't matter too much.'

The girl had given him her full attention as she sought desperately for a counter argument that would prove her gender.

"But… Can't you see? I'm a woman. A man would have big hands and muscles..."

"Is that right? Then what name is this lady called by? Surely not a man's name?"

She responded quickly having been thrown a lifeline by Gengyo.

"Akiko!"

"Oh. Akiko, that's definitely a woman's name. Or maybe you've just had a lot of time to think about this? Well, it doesn't matter to me what you get up to in your spare time."

"No really, I-"

Gengyo cut her off, choosing to play with her a little more.

"Nice to meet you Akiko-chan."

Akiko blushed a most fearsome shade of red, far deeper than any of her light blushes earlier and looked as though she was about to faint. She hid her face in her hands as her heart raced.

No one had ever called her by her first name before – not outside of her family. And certainly she was rarely called Akiko-chan. Was that not how lovers would address each other?

It was too much, and she could only manage a squeak in response.

"Niwa…"

Gengyo released another arrow.

THWACK

This one hit the right hand side of the centre, but Gengyo judged it to be good enough, as he moved further toward the shore in order to change the angle but conserve the distance.

He continued to play with Akiko nonchalantly as he thought of the alternations he would have to make to his aim in order to make the target from this angle.

"Hm? What was that Akiko-chan?"

She physically recoiled upon hearing the way in which he addressed her again as she built up the resolve to refute him.

"Please… Niwa-san… not Akiko, or chan."

At this Gengyo continued to be casually merciless.

"Ah. I suppose it might be weird for a man to be addressed using a female's name. My apologies for not showing any consideration."

Annoyance over shadowed embarrassment as she allowed herself to shout in reply.

"No!! I'm not a man!"

"Ah okay. Sorry for doubting you Akiko-chan."

"NIWA-SAN!"

"Uh, my name isn't Niwa. It's Miura. Miura Tadakata. But if it's you, just call me Tadakata-chan, okay?"

Akiko grew exasperated as she took a few deep breaths to calm herself, searching for a way to get this infuriating man to address her properly.

"…Miura-kun, address me as Niwa-san."

She observed Gengyo closely as she anticipated his response.

He, in turn, released his bow string for his first attempt at this angle.

The arrow travelled all the way across the target, scratching some of the front most scraps of cloth.

'Interesting… It seems you can only get it to stick if you hit a perfect shot for this angle. When facing straight on it's a little more lenient.'

"Oh, okay. Hello Niwa-san."

His response was met with a huge sigh of relief from Akiko as she revelled in the triumph of teaching this ignorant man of how to properly address people.

THWACK

The next arrow hit the exposed tree above the target, shattering the point.

"You need to aim down a bit."

Gengyo regarded her lightly with a glance, and turned back to his task.

Nocking another arrow, he drew back, steadying his breath.

And then he released it.

THWACK

A bullseye.

'Three shots again, huh… I wonder if I go back and retry the same angles will I be able to do it in one shot?'

"See. Listen to me and you'll be an amazing archer in no time."

"Mmm, is little miss Niwa-san familiar with the bow?"

"Yes. I often watch my father's men training."

Gengyo was paying her very little attention, as he moved back to the straight shot position, preparing to test whether he'd retained his ability to strike the bullseye

"Is that so?"

"Yup. On this shot, aim higher than you think you should."

"Hmm. I'll try that next time. Let me do it my way first, if it please the little miss Niwa-san."

He released, according to the previous calculations he had made whilst in this spot.

THWACK

Bullseye.

Akiko pouted at that.

"You listened to me anyway, even if you didn't admit it."

Gengyo responded absentmindedly.

"Is that so?"

"Yup. I'm sure."

"Okay."

Akiko finally caught on that he wasn't paying her any attention – her father often did the same thing.

"Hey! I know you're not listening, Miura-kun. I'm the landowner's daughter, you know? I could make things difficult for you.

At that Gengyo finally paid her some attention. He released the tension in his bow, and turned to her with a fierce glare.

"Will you?"

"…No."

Came the meek response.

Gengyo nodded.

"Good. I will do my best not to make things difficult for you either."

Akiko cocked her head at that. How could a peasant make things difficult for her?

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're evidently not meant to be here. I'm sure if your father found out, you'd be in a good deal of trouble."

She flinched slightly.

"I'm going to be in trouble anyway…"

"Is that so? Did you run away from a festival or something?"

Akiko chose her words carefully, as her mind raced back to the reality that she had ran away from.

"No, not a festival. Not for me."

Gengyo drew his bow, aiming for the already embedded arrow.

"A wedding then?"

THWACK

She froze, staring at him with big eyes.

"Bullseye."

"How did you kno-"

"A guess. Please tell me you didn't run away from the actual ceremony…"

She blushed.

"No… The hand maids were making me try on outfits."

"And you got tired of it, and ran away here?"

She nodded.

Gengyo sighed, placing his bow and arrows against a rock, before giving Akiko his full attention.

"Your father is probably searching for you."

"Yes..."

"He's going to be worried."

"Mhmm..."

"Shouldn't you go back, then? The longer you wait, the worse the scolding you're going to get."

She shook her head urgently.

"No, not yet. A little longer."

"Is it really that bad?"

She didn't reply.

"I can sympathise with you a little. A simple life is definitely better."

She perked up at that.

"You think so?"

"Yup."

Her enthusiasm quickly died, as she voiced her doubts.

"But you're a peasant. What would you know about the complicated?"

Gengyo smiled a sly smile, brushing the hair back from his face.

"More than you can imagine, young miss. You've never had to worry about whether there will be enough food to fill your belly. Nor have you had to work all day tilling the fields. You have lived a relaxed life. And now the time has come for you to fulfil your duty as a daughter, you run?"

"No! No… it's not like that. It's just… Anyone but him. I would rather starve for weeks than share a bed with the likes of him."

Gengyo scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Ho, quite the disgust you feel toward him."

She nodded emphatically.

"He's the worst person in the whole worst. I'll kill myself if I have to marry him."

"Have you told your father? I doubt he'd want to see his precious daughter unhappy."

At this, she looked slightly mournful.

"It's not that simple… father doesn't want me to be married either but-"

Gengyo raised a hand, stopping her there.

"I understand. Best not tell me too much, eh? I'm just a peasant after all. You'd probably feel guilty later if you did."

Akiko blushed slightly, realizing that her tongue had run away with her, and she was about to reveal things that an outsider must not know.

"How long do you have?"

"Two weeks, maybe."

"Do you best to enjoy them."

She saw Gengyo begin to walk away, as he lifted his bow and arrows up with him.

"Wait! You're going already, Miura-kun?"

"Yup. It's getting dark, little miss. It would be unwise for me to stay out much longer. You should head back soon too."

"Oh. Do you mind if I come back here in future? It's a rather nice place to train my bow."

Akiko agreed unhesitantly, calling out to him before he disappeared into the trees.

"Okay! Will you be coming tomorrow?"

"Yes, likely around the same time. See you around Niwa-san."

And then, he disappeared into the foliage, leaving Akiko to whisper her farewells to herself.

"Goodbye, Miura-kun."

Chapter 9: Market Day

"Nii-san! Hurry upppp, the market has already started and you haven't even eaten breakfast yet!"

Rin pulled back the covers of a very sleepy Gengyo.

"…Five more minutes."

"No! Nii-san, you promised me last week that you'd come to the market with me today. If you don't hurry we're going to miss the best bits."

She pressed her face up close to his so that he couldn't turn away.

He closed his eyes tight for a good few seconds, but feeling her hot breath on his cheeks and her feminine scent lingering in his nostrils he felt too uncomfortable to bear it any longer.

"Fineeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

He roared with a shout, throwing his covers up as he slapped his cheeks in an attempt to motivate himself.

Rin stood there – a little baffled – as Gengyo danced around in nothing but his fundoshi.

'His bruises are still pretty bad.'

She thought to herself feeling a hint of sadness.

Noticing her gaze Gengyo looked down on himself, realizing that this was definitely not the appropriate dress to be seen in by his sister.

"Rin."

"Yes, Nii-san?"

"I need some clothes."

"Yup."

"Will you get me some?"

"Nope."

Gengyo sighed, expecting as much. The clothes that he had left by his bedside had already been moved by Fuku – presumably to be washed – and he was unsure where he might find a new pair.

Feeling that it was going to be embarrassing to walk about the house in nothing but his underwear, he sighed once more.

'This is pretty annoying.'

"Rin. Where's mother?"

"In the main room, eating breakfast."

"Mmm. I don't think I should be seen by her with these bruises. It'll make her worry. How about… You get me a pair of clothes?"

Gengyo proposed this idea as though it was a newfound conclusion.

At the mention of this new line of reasoning, Rin could not say much.

"…Fine."

She reluctantly left, before returning a few moments later with a bundle of clothes in her hands.

Gengyo nodded gratefully, holding his arms out to receive the load.

"Thank you."

Rin accepted the thanks before hurling the clothes into his face with a certain amount of glee.

"You're welcome."

"That was a bit rude."

"Yup."

Gengyo sighed again, shaking his head at his little sister's eccentrics.

'So this is what having a sister is like…'

…

…

The village market place was a rather simple affair. There were fewer people gathered than one might expect in your typical market setting – though that was to be expected, as the population of the village was at most a few hundred.

Houses were placed sporadically, with a good distance between each one. Space was not an issue, so it did not make sense to build them tightly together.

The streets – despite not being gravelled or the like – were surprisingly clean, and the peasants and merchants that were gathered in a certain clear, open area did not soil their clothes on mud or the like.

The merchants were few but their wares were varied. Tools such as hoes and axes rested upon small stalls that had been set up earlier that morning.

Some stalls had various accessory items, such as hairpins and simple earrings.

Other stalls sold hot food, with wooden stools lining the front of the store to accommodate customers.

All in all, it was a rather underwhelming affair, especially for Gengyo who had lived in Tokyo, and had navigated its busy streets for most of his life.

Rin's enthusiasm far outweighed his own as she pulled him through the crowd by his hand.

"Hurry up Nii-san! All the good things will have been sold by now!"

Gengyo sighed as he was dragged in front of a clothing stall.

'We don't have the money to buy any of this, do we?'

"Ahhh, look how pretty this is, Nii-san!"

She pointed to a pink flowery kimono with shining eyes.

"I'm sure you'd look good in it."

Gengyo said neutrally.

The store owner came over after dealing with another customer and struck up conversation.

"Ah, the lady has good taste. This kimono is surely the only fitting dress for a flower as radiant as you."

Gengyo spared no time for such rehearsed lines, seeing the intent behind them.

"Sorry, we're just looking for now."

At that the merchant pulled a face of disgust, as if to say:

'Of course they are... filthy peasants.'

But that look quickly vanished and was replaced by a more business-like dismissal.

"Ah, please take your time. Let me know should you decide to buy any of my wares."

At that he left, and Gengyo felt relieved to have been unburdened from the merchant's expectations.

Rin had not noticed the nuances of such an exchange and was still ogling the many wares with keen interest.

"Wouldn't it be nice to buy such clothes, Nii-san?"

At that Gengyo scratched his head. He had never had much of an interest in clothes, but he did not have the heart to refute her so aggressively.

"Well, maybe. But clothes are not simply clothes. They come with extra situational and social strings attached. To be able to afford such clothes, you would have to be of money, and to be of money tends to make things more complicated. People will want to rob you for your wealth, and you will have to grow strong enough to defend yourself. As we are now, if our family were to gain money we would be ruined."

Rin listened politely as she regarded Gengyo with a curious gaze.

"What is it?"

"Mmm… Nothing. Nii-san is weird is all."

Gengyo could not help but sigh. Of course, a girl as young as Rin could not understand his wariness of such a troublesome thing as money. Money had often been the cause of a good man's descent into the wickedness of hell.

Out of the corner of his eye Gengyo spied of a weapons stall laden with simple boiled leather armours and cheap swords and spears. But what attracted his gaze was not those. It was a bow.

Pulling back Rin who was had already been heading toward an accessory store, he headed towards it.

"Nii-san? Where are we going?"

Gengyo did not reply with words, he simply led her there so that she could answer her own question.

No one else had bothered to visit such a stall, for the goods were presumably much too expensive and of too little use to a peasant. In times of war the ashigaru would be fitted with a simple kit by the landowner, so there was nothing to worry about on that front.

This lack of customers resulted in a very bored store owner, who sat in a stool behind his stall resting his chin on his hands as he idly watched those who passed by.

He greeted them with a mix of surprise and enthusiasm as he rushed to stand up and look helpful.

"Good day to the sir and madam!"

Gengyo got straight to the point so as to not mislead the merchant.

"Hello. I would like to try that bow."

The merchant looked Gengyo up and down, firmly believing that such a bow was far too expensive for the likes of him.

"But sir, this bow costs 70 copper coins… are you sure the sir is able to afford it?"

At this Gengyo shrugged.

"Well, there don't appear to be any other customers waiting, so what's the harm in me trying?"

The store owner looked a little irritated at such a comment, but did his best to maintain his flagging smile.

"Very good sir…"

He relented and handed over the bow.

Rin was panicked by his actions as she urgently whispered her thoughts.

"Nii-san… 70 copper coins is way too much. That could feed us for a year!"

Gengyo merely nodded and drew the string back.

He held it for a good few seconds before shaking his head and handing it over.

"I'm sorry sir, the draw strength on this bow is much too light. Having become used to a 110 lbs bow, it would feel wrong to use anything less."

The merchant regarded him with disbelief, and shook his head mockingly.

'As if someone as poor as you could afford to use such a powerful bow.'

At that Gengyo walked away with Rin, a satisfied smile etched upon his face.

'So, that was only 70 lbs… Interesting. It appears my bow is of rather good quality.'

Rin was mystified by his contented look and could only follow by his side curious as to what on earth that had all been about.

…

…

As they walked back home after Rin was finally contented with her exploration of the market, they came across a rather familiar duo.

Behind a rather run-down house a little away from the road home, the two boys were engaged in aggressive swordplay.

YAH!

An overhead strike from Aritada was swiftly blocked by Yoritomo. Using the initiative that he had seized, Yoritomo swiped toward Aritada's right side – which was promptly blocked – and then toward his left, barraging him with strike after strike.

Yoritomo's superior technique was evident – no doubt as a result of his hard training – but Aritada was not giving in either. Each strike was blocked – though it was hard to call that commendable, as the attacks were a little mindless – but he was still forced backwards, sweating hard.

Gengyo could not exactly praise their skill. A battle would have no place for such a long-winded fight. There was only one thing that mattered, and that was killing your opponent quickly.

Instead of wasting time with useless movements, they should aim for a single strike – or series of strikes – that would claim the life of their opponent.

'A kendo practitioner would be turning in his grave watching this…'

"We're going over."

Gengyo told Rin – much to her surprise – and began walking toward them.

"Eh!? Why?"

Gengyo ignored her and carried on walking.

"Nii-san! Wait! Why are you going over to them? They gave you all those horrible bruises!"

Gengyo merely stood by the side and waited until the duellists finally noticed him. All the while Rin pulled on his sleeve seeking an explanation for his actions.

Their bout ended when one of Yoritomo's strikes caught Aritada's fingers and he dropped his sword with a yowl of pain.

Yoritomo finally noticed them, as he turned around, and flinched.

"Ah... Miura-san... How can we help you?"

He asked timidly.

Rin picked up on the '-san' as she glanced toward her brother with curiosity, before returning to glaring at those she perceived to be 'the enemy'.

"I came to the market with Rin here,"

Gengyo ruffled her hair to accent his words and undermine the ferocity she was showing.

Rin could only pout and groan, wrestling her way from his grip.

"Haha. Anyway, I saw you training and I thought I'd come down to say hi."

By now Aritada had also come over, he frowned intensely at that. He had not forgotten the humiliation they'd suffered at his hands. Now they had to work in a field closer to Baba, and so had to work harder.

"...What do you want, Miura?"

He asked, his hostility unguarded.

Gengyo merely smiled in response. He'd already done the easy part, and had stopped their bullying. But in a village as small as this, it would not do to leave ropes untied, and have crocodiles ready and waiting to eat him up as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

"I wanted to say good job on training so hard."

He said with a smile.

Aritada narrowed his eyes. It was obvious he intentions were other than that.

"You think you can beat us in a duel?"

He asked, disgusted.

"Now... I wouldn't say that."

In fact, that was precisely what he was saying. Even with his lack of training, he was confident he could beat that likes of them simply because their intentions when wielding the sword were wrong. One had to be aggressive, and strike with the intent to kill, whilst also safeguarding their own body.

"Yoritomo, hand him your sword."

He barked. He was eager to make up for his earlier loss, and this was something that he held confidence in.

"Wait... Don't you think that's a bad idea?"

"Just do it.

Chapter 10: The Philosophy of the Sword

Receiving the sword, Gengyo tested its weight.

'My kendo lessons were few, but they should be enough to get the point across.'

He then spoke to Aritada who was standing across from him, holding his sword ready.

"Okay. Just fight me as you had been with Yoritomo."

Aritada frowned. Of course he wouldn't. He didn't just want to beat him, he wanted to inflict a good amount of pain.

"Alright. Shall we start?"

Having learned from Yoritomo's technique, he rushed in with a sense of urgency, swinging wildly in an attempt to seize the initiative and limit his opponent's movements.

Gengyo gripped his bokken firmly and pointed it outwards so that it was almost horizontal.

Aritada slashed forward, sending a wild strike to Gengyo's right side and then a second to the left side before he had even finished the first.

When Aritada's wild charge reached him, Gengyo simply jabbed, extending his arms as far as he could, whilst taking a step back.

Maximising his reach, and as such defending his own body from strikes, he was able to beat Aritada in a single strike.

Aritada stared at the spot in which the sword had hit dumbfounded.

'He has not yet seen through the technique it seems.'

Seeing the confused look on the boys face, instead of gloating, and wollowing in his victory, he gave him a second chance.

"Again."

Gengyo order.

"This time, put within your strikes the intent to kill. You are wasting too much movement.."

Aritada gripped his bokken tightly, raising it upwards above his head.

They remained like that for a while – Gengyo in his kendo stance, and Aritada glaring down at him with his sword poised to split his head open

This time, Gengyo moved forward first. Two short steps to close the distance just enough so that he was still outside of Aritada's range.

His opponent did nothing but watch warily, his muscles tensed and ready to act.

Gengyo returned his gaze as he positioned his sword, ready to lunge.

Aritada did not seem to see his own state of defencelessness, as he simply stood sword overhead and waited.

Figuring it would be rude to leave him waiting too long, Gengyo lunged forward, aiming for his belly once more.

Aritada swiftly countered, bring his sword downwards in an attempt to throw the approaching weapon off course.

Gengyo moved with even greater speed, and a much greater level of precision. He parried the downwards moving blade, and a split second later his blade had found its way into Aritada's side.

"Ahh! Fuck that hurts!"

Aritada collapsed upon receiving the strike, holding his bruised side.

"Mm, have you figured out how I'm beating you yet?"

He asked, not condescendingly, but Aritada still gazed up at him fiercely.

Yoritomo spoke on his behalf.

"You were faster."

Gengyo appraised the answer fairly.

"That's part of it, but it's not that simple."

Upon receiving Gengyo's expectant gaze, Aritada could only shake his head. He did not know the answer either.

"It's not that I am any more skilled than you, it's simply that I have greater caution for my own body."

Aritada frowned at such an answer, clearly unhappy.

"Greater caution for your own body? It's not like I want to get hit!"

He responded, frustrated. Just having to talk with his likes was irritating enough, but to lose at something he had put so much time into training was extremely infuriating.

"No, that's not what I mean. If these were real blades, you would be fighting very differently. You would be more afraid of being hit by your opponent's blade than you would be concerned with hitting him."

"Well, that's true, but-"

"And the best way to do that, whilst also maintaining chances at victory? Fight at range. Only go close enough to your opponent so that the tip of your sword can hit. Nothing more is needed."

Aritada was quick to voice his complaints.

"…? Range? Pah. How would you parry the attacks if you were standing so far away?"

"Haha, but why would you need to parry when you're standing far away? If they swing towards you, it's simpler to just step back. The only time you would need to parry is if your opponent closed the gap faster than you could react."

Yoritomo was nodding, seeming to forget his fear.

"Hm… that makes a good amount of sense. So only ever move into your opponent in order to land the killing strike. And only do that when you're certain of victory.

"That's the gist of it. But when you grow more skilled, you'll be able to take advantage of more of the mistakes your opponent makes. Then, you might choose to close the gap as he attacks, parry his strike, and then land a strike of your own."

"…I see."

Aritada pondered it, and finally understood.

"Why are you telling us this, Miura..?"

The lad asked, cautiously. Being lectured by the enemy was one of the most uncomfortable things that he'd had to experience.

Gengyo shrugged in response, as though it was perfectly natural.

"We're from the same village, are we not? There is no need for us to be at each other's throats. I have proved my point. Do you not think the likes of us could do quite well for ourselves, if we did not waste our energy on each other? There are plenty of things that you know, that I do not. As there are things that you can share with me."

They look at him, baffled by such a speech. It certainly was not common to hear a teen speak as such. Honesty, is what they attributed it to. But in truth, it was nothing of the sort. He regarded them lightly, and did not expect that there was much he could learn from them. But he could find a use for them later on, and he did not feel like wasting his time worrying about petty threats from youngsters.

Aritada gripped his blade tightly as he mimicked Gengyo's earlier stance, with his sword pointed outwards. He took light steps back and forth, and practised lunging forward. It was a basic kendo stance, but it was better than what he was using before.

He then turned to Yoritomo with a certain look of ferocity in his eyes.

"I feel it. I definitely feel it. This is a powerful combat style – we can become great warriors with this, Yoritomo."

Yoritomo – not wanting to be left behind – tried a few strikes of his own.

After completing his experimentation, he could naught but stare at his sword.

It was not simply a sword technique – it was a philosophy that Gengyo had taught them.

'Prioritise your own life, so that you may live and grow stronger.' Growing up as peasants, such an idea had been foreign to them. Peasants were treated by the samurai as the lowest of the low – worse than filth.

Now, Gengyo had – albeit through his sword – taught them that their life had value, and it was through that understanding, and that feeling, that they were overcome with a sense of profundity.

They did not understand it completely, so he left them to ponder, and to take note of the agreement he had set out.

"Well, good luck with your training."

He said lightly, as he began to walk away. They could not bring themselves to call out to him. He had once more reasserted the difference between them. They appeared petty in comparison. After suffering as he had, he had returned with a gift - that was how lightly he regarded them. Aritada ground his teeth, not fond of what was happening. But one thing was certain: he would gain nothing by remaining that mans enemy.

"Nii-san… What just happened?"

Gengyo paused for a moment, stroking his chin.

"I'm not really sure either… but I guess they're good kids?"

Rin shook her head at his benign response.

"That's such an old man thing to say."

Gengyo shrugged, for there was nothing else he could have said. Rin had been present herself, and watched his interactions with the two, and from it she will have formed a far better conclusion of what his relationship with the two boys was like than if he were to explain it himself.

'I wonder if she'll tell Masaatsu what happened… I bet that will lead to some drama.'

…

…

Later that evening, Gengyo made his way to the recently discovered lake in order to get in some more practice.

A swan was already there, relaxing with its feet in the water as Gengyo strolled along the shore towards it.

"Yo."

Of course, this swan was no longer as swan-like as the day previous, for it was much too impractical to walk around in a yukata all the time.

Instead, she had her hair tidily tied behind her head, and a fresh, light grey kimono adorned her body. It was tied in the middle with a gold patterned obi.

She stiffened at Gengyo's greeting, and turned around with a slight smile on her face.

"You're later than yesterday."

"Mmm, I didn't know you'd be waiting for me."

At this, she blushed lightly and pouted.

"I wasn't waiting for you… I've been here all day."

She pointed toward a basket that contained the remnants of a meal and a pair of chopsticks.

"Hoo, is that sashimi?"

"Yes, Shibata – one my handmaids - made it for me when I mentioned I'd be spending the day outside."

"Maids eh? That must be convenient."

"It is, but sometimes it's a little suffocating having so many people around you."

"I can imagine."

Gengyo placed his bow and arrows down beside a rock before turning back to Akiko.

"Niwa-san, how much longer will you be staying?"

Her response to the question was rather indignant, as she perceived it to be his attempt at getting rid of her.

"It's my lake, you know. I can stay as long as I want."

Gengyo nodded in agreement.

"Yup. In that case, do you fancy helping me with something?"

Akiko gazed at him warily, for he had toyed with her endlessly yesterday.

"What is it…?"

"I want to make a raft."

"A raft?"

"Correct. A raft."

"Why would you want to make a raft?"

"Well, I've never made one before, so it'd be pretty cool to try something new. Also, I was thinking that practising shooting from unstable – or moving – ground will help improve my archery skills."

Akiko rested her head on her finger awhile as she thought about it.

"Hmm, I guess I could. I've always wanted to get to the middle island over there."

She pointed towards a small 3x3 metre piece of land that was nestled in the middle of the lake, with a few thin birch trees growing on it. There appeared to be quite a few birds nesting there.

"Okay, when we do the raft, I'll take you there. Do we have a deal?"

Gengyo held out his hand in anticipation of sealing the agreement.

"Deal."

She stared at Gengyo's outstretched hand curiously.

After a few seconds passed, Gengyo awkwardly withdrew it, before extending the other hand as though he had simply been stretching.

'I suppose the handshake is not well known in Japan yet…'

"Right, so, I'm going to do a few shots to make sure I've kept yesterday's progress, and then we'll get started."

Akiko was dissatisfied with the idea of waiting.

"Is there nothing I can do in the meantime? I'm sort of excited now."

Gengyo was quick to agree. He had been thinking of sending her earlier, but had not known how to get her to listen – or whether it would be appropriate to do so.

"Sure. Get 10 poles of bamboo, about as thick as your foot, and bring them back here. The length doesn't matter that much, but try to make sure they're roughly similar. It'll make things easier later on."

Akiko listened attentively, and confirmed her understanding before departing at a jog.

"Okay!"

Gengyo watched her go as a twinge of doubt began to form in his mind.

'Perhaps it was a bad idea to let her go herself… She seems a bit airheaded.'

But then he shrugged.

'Well, it can't be that bad. Even someone as pampered as her will be able to do something that simple.'

He then collected his tools, and lined up some shots at ten paces.

He shot three times, and consistently hit the bullseye having remembered the angles from the previous day.

Nodding with satisfaction, he moved further back.

THWACK

THWACK

THWACK

He secured a bullseye within the first shot at twenty paces at every different angle.

'Not bad… But I wonder how transferrable this will be? It doesn't seem like it demonstrates much skill to merely hit the same shots again and again. Any idiot can memorise the positioning of the bow and the like.'

Gengyo failed to recognise the brilliance of his progress. If anything, he was even harsher on himself than he had been before. But that was what had made him so successful in his previous life – that and his intelligence.

Even after Gengyo had run through all the motions, and spent a little time thinking in between, Akiko had still not returned.

Almost half an hour had passed, and Gengyo was actually starting to become worried.

Chapter 11: The Horse and The Prince

'I suppose I better go check on her.'

Gengyo decided that it was probably for the best to take his bow and arrows with him, in case someone else came to the lake in the meantime.

'Now, which way did she go?'

He had not been paying much attention to the departing Akiko, assuming that such a task would be well within her capabilities.

But now that such a thing had revealed to not be the case, he was in a rather poor position when attempting to find her.

'I'm guessing she went along the path she came from yesterday… so let's head there.'

Gengyo pushed his way through the foliage before looking around for any signs of Akiko's passage through here.

There were minor disturbances in the soil, and a few broken plants, but that was not evidence of particularly recent use of the route.

Still, it was likely that since this was the route she was familiar with – the route that she came to and from the lake by – then she will have seen a patch of bamboo nearby.

'Mm. That seems probable, as she seemed to know where some bamboo could be found.'

Continuing further down the route, the route became less clear. The vegetation was less dense and it was difficult to see any evidence of a recently used path through it.

It was embarrassing, but Gengyo could do nought but resort to one thing.

'Niwa-san! Niwa-san, its Miura! Shout if you can hear me!"

His voice echoed around the forest, but even after waiting a solid minute for a reply, Gengyo could hear nothing.

'Of course it isn't going to be that easy.'

Gengyo thought to himself with a sigh.

Deciding that it was likely better to continue forward and hope for the best, he trudged onwards.

He continued to call her name as he went, listening intently for a response.

After having to jump over a stream, he began to doubt that the path he had chosen was correct.

'I really can't see that girl being able to clear the stream with a jump… Though perhaps she could just walk through it?'

Past the stream, the trees grew sparser, allowing a much clearer view of what lay ahead.

A thick, fallen oak tree barred the path forwards. Its trunk must have at least been 2 metres in diameter, which meant that one would have to climb two metres in order to cross it.

'There's no way she managed this…'

Even with the aid of all the branches, it was highly unlikely that Akiko - the daughter of nobility – was capable of such physical feats. If it was Rin on the other hand, her success was all but guaranteed.

'May as well use it as a vantage point I suppose.'

With swift movements, Gengyo hauled himself atop the fallen tree.

Dusting off the crumbly bark that had stuck to his clothing, he surveyed the area.

'Mm… There's really nothing noteworthy.'

He looked all around him, trying to map a bird's eye view of the area in his head so that he might make predictions about Akiko's path.

Such a line of thought proved unfruitful however, and in the end he had to resort to a more basic form of action.

Filling his lungs with a deep breath, he prepared for his loudest shout yet.

"NIWA-SAN! NIWA-SAN, CAN YOU HEAR ME? IT'S MIURA. SHOUT IF YOU CAN HEAR ME."

His voice filled the empty surroundings, bouncing off trees as it was transmitted further into the forest.

He cupped his ears for a good two minutes, hoping with all his heart for a reply.

But in the end, nothing came.

'My god, this is troublesome.'

Gengyo could not help but curse at the difficulty of this supposed rescue mission.

'She probably went home to eat or something.'

Climbing down from the tree, he headed back down the path he had followed, intent on looking for alternate routes that she might have followed.

"He-p he-p."

A whisper on the wind caused Gengyo to stop in his tracks.

'Am I imagining it?'

"NIWA-SAN? CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

After a few moments of silence, he heard it again, louder this time, but still rather faint on the ear.

"Help!"

'That's definitely her'.

A rush of adrenaline passed through the worn-out Gengyo and he made his way toward the source of the noise with haste, calling all the while.

"NIWA-SAN!"

"Miura-kun! Over here!"

She now seemed to be about a hundred metres away, as her replies were getting stronger.

Gengyo charged through the plant life that tore at his clothes, as he rushed toward Akiko with a strong sense of urgency.

"Here! Miura-kun! Over here!"

There he could see Akiko sprawled against a tree, her face white and twisted with pain, nursing her ankle.

"Niwa-san… what happened?"

He had his own theories, but it was better to hear it from the person in question.

Akiko looked embarrassed at that, nodding toward a large root that was sticking out of the ground.

"I tripped on the root… and my ankle really hurts."

Gengyo nodded, trying to convey his understanding.

"Okay. Do you mind if I take a look at it?"

Akiko looked a little hesitant, slightly worried about giving someone who she had only met recently access to her wounded foot. But then she nodded timidly.

Gengyo moved quickly, undoing her sandal as his cold hands passed over Akiko's feet, feeling for any abnormalities.

Akiko flinched at his touch, but allowed him to do his thing with much resistance.

"Ow!"

She complained as Gengyo's fingers made their way to a more sensitive part of her injury.

"Mm. It's not broken. Just a sprain. In a week, or perhaps two, you'll be fine."

Akiko looked relieved to hear that, but a second later she was rather aghast.

"Two weeks? But that's when the ceremony is! I don't want to spend all that time inside, before spending the rest of my life with that evil toad!"

Gengyo could understand her feelings, but at the same time he was not about to encourage her to do anything rash.

"I understand Niwa-san, but you really won't be able to walk on this foot for a good few days. It would be better if you rested."

Akiko did not reply, but Gengyo could see tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes.

"We can't stay here all day, and it's getting dark. Let me take you home."

Akiko did not respond, instead she simply stared toward the sky listlessly.

Gengyo sighed.

'How did I get caught up in this…'

He paused awhile, searching for a new approach.

They sat in silence for a time before Akiko's gaze fell onto him.

"Miura-kun, how were you planning to take me home?"

Grateful that she was finally speaking, Gengyo made haste with his reply.

"I supposed that I could carry you on my back."

Akiko put a finger to her chin as she thought about it.

"…Like a horse."

Gengyo winced a little at that.

"Perhaps not a horse… maybe a noble prince?"

Akiko looked at him up and down before shaking her head.

"Nope, definitely a horse."

"Okay…"

Gengyo could only shake his head and accept her evaluations.

Akiko giggled at his response, before remembering her situation and looking more depressed again.

"Come on… I'll carry you home, and then you can get a nice hot bath or something, eh?"

"Mm… That's all I'll be able to do from now on."

She was mournful in her reply, but did not resist Gengyo's attempt at movement.

He helped her to up, as she stood on a single leg leaning against the tree.

"Okay… I'm going to pick you up now. Wrap your arms around my neck and put your legs on either side."

"I know how a piggyback works."

"Right."

Gengyo gently lifted her up, locking his fingers behind him to support her rear as she wrapped her arms around his neck and put her legs by his side.

Akiko blushed slightly – unbeknownst to Gengyo, who was more concerned about her weight.

"You better not be getting any weird ideas…"

"I wouldn't dream of it my lady."

"…Not this again."

"Haha, sorry - Niwa-san."

He walked steadily through the forest, doing his best to avoid any low hanging branches so that Akiko wouldn't be snagged.

Of course, that was easier said than done, and she made sure to voice her complaints fervently each time it happened.

"Horses are meant to look after their riders! I'm getting scratched to ribbons by all these branches."

"Yeah… But I'm not a horse."

They had to take frequent breaks, as the accumulated strain quickly wore Gengyo down.

"By stopping so much, are you saying that I'm heavy?"

"No. Not heavy. Just fat."

She pouted and chopped down on his head.

Gengyo mock stumbled, pretending that he was going to fall over.

"Stop it! Even if you're pretending it's still scary."

"Mm. I got hit in the back of the head by something, apologies Niwa-san."

…

…

"So what now?"

They stood at the outer wall surrounding the land holder's mansion, and Gengyo was rather hesitant to go inside.

"What do you mean? We go inside, of course."

"Won't it be bad for you to be seen with me?"

It was only then that Akiko realised his point.

"Ah… true. It would be bad if father found out about my foot as well."

"Why would that be bad?"

"Well, he'll stop letting me outside on my own."

"But you won't be able to go anyway with that foot."

At this, Akiko smiled slyly.

"Oh, but I will."

Gengyo had a bad feeling about this.

'She's going to say something troublesome…'

"…How?"

"You're going to carry me."

Gengyo sighed.

'I thought as much.'

"I'll be honest Niwa-san, the thought of carrying you every day isn't very appealing."

"How rude! You should be honoured to carry your landholder's daughter."

"I'd rather not."

Akiko realized he was serious. Whilst he had helped her, it was merely out of goodwill, but his charity would not extend that far. They were relative strangers after all – he had no reason to go out of his way to help her.

"…A deal then?"

"Mmm. Are you offering to reward me for my services?"

"Yup. Anything you like, I'll get it for you."

Gengyo purposely gazed toward Akiko's chest, who in turn, recoiled, covering herself with her arms.

"Anything but that!"

"Haha. Okay. Well, how about you owe me a favour? I imagine it'll be useful to have the landholder's daughter – as you keep mentioning – owing me a favour."

Akiko thought a while, trying to see through whatever trick she supposed Gengyo was playing on her.

"Okay… but it can't be anything too crazy. And no perverted stuff!"

"Deal. So how is this going to work?"

"I'll be waiting here each evening. Come and get me and carry me to the lake."

Gengyo raised an eyebrow at that.

"How are you going to get here on that foot of yours?"

"I'll get Shibata to carry me – she should be able to do this much without getting told off."

"Heh… Alright."

They both nodded, completing the arrangements and then silence reigned for a while.

"Uhh, but how are we going to get you inside now?"

Akiko's satisfied smile faded as she realized her oversight.

"Uhm… I suppose just carry to that bench over there, and I'll wait and hope that Shibata passes by."

"Good enough for me."

Gengyo was rather eager to have this whole thing done with, so he picked her up and carried her toward the bench inside the courtyard with haste.

After placing her down and making sure she was comfortable, he left without a word – not wanting to alert any of the household of his presence.

Akiko was less subtle, and called out to him.

"Don't forget our promise, Miura-kun!"

With a palm to his face and a shake of his head, Gengyo walked away, a little apprehensive as to what the future would hold.

Chapter 12: A Miserable Morning

After spending so long looking for Akiko, and carrying her home, Gengyo could not spend as much time at the lake as he would have liked to, but he still managed to complete the tasks in which he had assigned himself.

…

…

The next day, Gengyo awoke slightly later than everyone else.

Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he sat up and took his time to grow accustomed to the morning light.

He was in a rather good mood, and yawned contently.

'This kind of simple life is what I've needed.'

He dressed in his clothing that lay by his bed from yesterday, and prepared himself for a hearty breakfast before a hard day's work.

Oddly, in the dining area, everyone else was eating in silence. Even the usually bubbly Fuku had a grim look on her face.

Gengyo slowed spooned rice into his mouth with his chops sticks, as he observed the members of his family, trying to find a source of the tension.

Rin ate quickly, with her head down, so there was no way to gather any information from her.

Masaatsu sat upright, with a stoic look on his face, his jaw clenched tightly. Whilst Masaatsu was definitely a mature individual, and usually had a look of seriousness about his face, Gengyo did not remember seeing such intensity ever since he had that fight with their father.

On the topic of his father, Gengyo turned to him to see if there were any differences about him. It could have been that he was drunk once more, and had done something to unsettle the rest.

But after looking at Morohira's face, Gengyo had to do a double-take, startled by the sight of it.

'How the hell did I not notice this sooner?'

He thought to himself, as he tried to process the monstosity before him.

Morohira's face was a complete mess. His right eye was swollen so much that he barely open it, and his left was in a rather similar state. There were multiple cuts and bruises on his face and head, and there were the signs of stitching too.

Evidently this had been something that had happened last night, as the wounds had scabbed.

Gengyo recalled that last night they had eaten dinner without their father present, but even with that piece of information there were far too many possibilities.

Gulping down his rice, Gengyo tentatively opened his mouth and tried to pierce the thick fog of tension that hung around everyone, and find an answer to his questions.

"Father."

Morohira did not look up, for he already knew what his son would ask of him. He continued to look at his bowl of rice, as something akin to shame spread across his face – though it was difficult to tell exactly what emotion that was with all the bruises.

"Mother."

He went for his mother instead. Fuku was too soft-hearted to ignore someone.

"…Yes?"

'Ho… Even Fuku is barely willing to speak. This must be pretty bad.'

"Am I the only one who doesn't know?"

Fuku paused, looking guilty.

"Well… you were asleep so…"

"I was, and I woke up to see my father's face looking like he's been hired out as someone's personal punching bag."

Fuku bit her lips, struggling to answer.

"Mother. Tell me. I don't want to be in the dark about something like this."

"Ah shut up will you! There's nothing you can do about it!"

Morohira cut in with anger, speaking slurred out of his swollen mouth.

Gengyo raised an eyebrow, waiting for the outburst to die down. Oddly, despite the harshness of such words, he did not feel any of their venom directed toward him. It seemed as though they were self-deprecating.

"Mm. We don't know that until we've tried it. What's the harm?"

Rin looked up, and tentatively joined in after a thought passed through her head.

'Maybe if it's Tadakata… After all he's done recently… Maybe he could help?'

"Dad. I think you should let Tadakata know."

"Ha? What's with that tone? Tadakata is weak, we all know that. Why don't we just leave the boy out of it? It'll be better for him."

Although his speech was laced with irritation, and his words could be construed as insulting, it did not come across that way to Gengyo. After observing his father - whilst sober – he had come to see him as a rather amiable fellow. A little weak-willed. But he definitely tried. He was not saying this to be cruel, not intentionally. He was merely too irritated to hold back what he thought to be true.

'That is without a doubt false. Tadakata's dealing with those two rascals in recent days have been borderline miraculous. Especially how – as Rin described it – he has them bowing to him.'

At those words, Masaatsu hastened to intervene. He was a man that always strove to speak his truth.

"Father. I believe that to be false. Tadakata is by no means weak. We should share this burden with him – it is my belief that he will be able to help."

Gengyo nodded gratefully at the words of his siblings, and turned back to his father expectantly, waiting for a response.

Through his battered eyes, Morohira stared down Gengyo, before relenting in his mind.

'Perhaps… Perhaps they are right. There is something different about the boy lately.'

He downed his drink with a swift motion, before wiping his mouth and turning to his family.

"Well, since you are all so insistent, I suppose I better - but don't blame me if it turns out to be too much for you, Tadakata."

"Rest assured, I will do my best to handle it."

Morohira nodded.

"Well, you better listen in then. I'll tell you about it again."

"You see, your father has been very foolish."

Morohira seemed to be past shame at this point, as he held his head up, and looked his family in the eye admitting his sins.

"Very foolish indeed. Do you know where I was last night?"

It was Gengyo who responded.

"I have no idea."

"At the tavern between here and Tobishima. You know Kyougoku, do you not? I've spoke of him in the past - a right foul piece of work, he his. We've been at each other's throats for the longest of times, but he's always been honourable - well, atleast on the surface."

"You already know that much, though. He's been wanting to kick me and the lads out, saying that we're soiling their property or some such rubbish. We've fought a couple of times over it, but never really thought he was serious. Anyway, yesterday, the bastard challenged me to Chō-han."

Gengyo had a rough idea where this was heading.

"Mmm. We were playing Chō-han with them, and they were losing – a lot. We made a grand amount of money."

"I kept betting on even, and after the third time on even, this bastard accuses me of cheating!"

"And what did you say in response to that?"

"I told him where he could stick his accusations, and let him know that the real cheater was his mother."

Gengyo shook his head, exasperated by the old man's quick temper.

"…Did you really have to call his mother a whore?"

"Oy! You weren't there. You don't know what these dogs were like. They deserved every insult they got – and more besides. If I saw them again, I'd still remind them of how many men could be their fathers."

"…Right. So they didn't take too kindly to your insult, I take it?"

"Yeah, too right. The bastards. They ganged up on me – didn't stand a chance. It's cowardice really, if you ask me. No honour in those dogs at all."

"What about the friends you were with? Did they not help you out?"

Morohira shook his head.

"No… there were too many. We were three, and they were ten."

"Ten? How did you manage to insult ten people so quickly? And, if you were outnumbered, what happened to your friends? Are they in as bad a way as you?"

"Nah, they just joined in. Seems the guy I was playing with is quite a big shot in these parts – some people from our own village even ganged up me! Fucking traitorous bastards."

"And no, my buddies ran when they got the chance. Lucky them."

"Lucky them? You're not annoyed that they didn't help you?"

"No? Why should I be? No one wants to get beat up."

'This old man doesn't have much self-respect… His own friends left him to get beat him up without doing anything, and this guy doesn't even hold a grudge?"

"Father. Please cease to be friends with such people."

"Eh?! The fuck are you talking about son? You don't get to question the people I hang around with."

"No, you're right. It's entirely your own decision, but I would feel much better if my father was around people that treated him with respect, rather them abandoning him when the going gets tough."

"What are you on about? Any sane man would run in that situation. Hell, I would have run!"

Gengyo turned to Masaatsu.

"Brother, if it was your friend – even if you were outnumbered – would you leave him to get beat up alone?"

"By my blood, no. If you call a man a friend, you must be willing to feel pain on his behalf, else what is the value of such a friendship?"

Gengyo nodded in agreement.

"See, father. If your friends had stuck by you, and fought with all their strength, do you believe you couldn't have escaped with much lighter injuries?"

"I mean, sure it's likely, but why should they? Anyway, what the hell is this? You, of all people, are talking to me about friends? Tadakata, you haven't had a single friend since you were born. What would you know about friendship?"

*Cough*

Rin interrupted, clearing her throat, and raising a tentative hand as though to answer a teacher's question.

"Actually… I think he's made a couple of friends?"

Morohira raised his eyebrow at that.

"You're going to join in, Rin, even if you have to lie? You're my kids, and I don't enjoy arguing with you, but what the fuck do you all think you're doing questioning me and my friends? I'm a 40-year-old man. I know more about the world than any of you. It's sickening to be lectured by children."

She quickly refuted accusations of falsehood.

"Nope. It's not a lie."

"Oh, really? Who are these magical friends, then?"

"Hijikata and Makino…"

She had to say it in a whisper, as an embarrassed flush covered her face.

'It sounds even weirder when I say it out loud…'

Morohira's reaction did not help her embarrassment, as he gazed at her for a few seconds before opening his mouth and roaring with laughter.

"Hahahahahaha! Rin, you're a good girl, cheering your dad up like that! Those kids who have bullied our Tadakata for years are his friends? Pahaha. It's more likely that our crops will yield gold this year!"

Masaatsu was able to retain a straight face, and Gengyo could not praise him for it enough. It was such a ridiculous assertion that came out of Rin's mouth that even he could not help but smile.

'To be honest, I'm not sure if you can call them friends… but we do have a relatively positive relationship.'

He thought to himself.

"What Rin said is true, but we have no way of proving it, so we'll leave it at that for now."

Masaatsu intervened on Rin's behalf.

Gengyo then took that opportunity to redirect the conversation back on track.

"Yes. Well, regardless of all that – and the matter of the people you call friends, which I still hope you will reconsider father – let's finish clearing this up. Now, you got beat up, which is definitely not good. But are there going to be any long term effects? Since you mentioned you were beat up by people from our own village."

Chapter 13: The Scorn of The Village

Morohira's face soured further at the question.

"Mmm. My honour has been shot with them calling me a cheater so I'm not sure things will be that good."

"Yeah. Do you know how the men from our village – the ones that helped beat you – are related to this 'big shot' that you mentioned?

"Dunno. They seem like his underlings though, following his orders without even thinking – bloody animals."

'This is probably bad.'

Gengyo thought to himself.

"Do we know anything else about this 'big shot' character? Things he's done in the past and the like."

It was Fuku who answered this time, speaking softly.

"I heard there were a family in the other village that owed him money…"

"Hmm? What happened to them?"

"They were bullied by the man – his name is Kyougoku by the way – badly, for weeks on end."

"…And how did it end?"

Fuku struggled to keep her voice level as she continued.

"It's a really sad story. The husband killed himself, and then his wife was captured and sold into prostitution to pay for his debts."

Gengyo gulped.

'My god that's grim. Why did father have to piss off such a vicious guy?'

"Uhh… Surely he's not going to hold a grudge against you, right father? He's already beaten you half to death."

Morohira looked toward him bitterly.

"Wouldn't count on it kid."

Gengyo sighed and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

'But my peaceful life…'

He thought to himself mournfully.

Rin quickly snapped him out of it.

"Nii-san, is there anything we can do?"

"It would be unwise to make any plans before we know exactly what we're dealing with. For all we know, he might have already forgotten about dad – though that seems unlikely."

"For now, we should simply proceed as normal. Go to work, and do what we have to do. If things are different, and our position is unbearable, then in a couple of days I will make arrangements."

Masaatsu nodded deeply.

"My little brother has become wise. Do not try to take on all the responsibility yourself though – we're a family. We'll deal with this together."

Morohira tilted his head at this exchange.

'Since when did my weak little son become a leader?'

Rin perked up a little too.

"If it's Nii-san, and sure we'll be alright."

…

…

The three siblings walked to work with their eyes darting about warily, unsure as to whether they would be the subject of abuse.

The villagers looked at them for a little too long as they passed by, causing an uncomfortable feeling to begin to grow within their chests.

"Masaatsu, Rin. Be careful today. And no matter what happens, don't react. It will make things worse."

"Okay!"

"I will try my best, little brother."

Further down the road along the side of the fields, a group of five men were walking towards them taking up the entire path.

As they got closer, not a single one of them moved to make space, and inevitably the two groups ended up colliding.

There was a good deal of force in the shoulders that hit them, and Rin would have fallen had Masaatsu not caught her by the arm.

The men did not even spare them a word, they simply ploughed through them as if they did not exist.

Gengyo felt a spark of anger as he turned to check on Rin.

"Are you alright?"

Rin winced slightly, but nodded.

"I was kind of expecting that."

"Yeah. It seems likely that they are the underlings father was mentioning – or at least are related to them somehow."

…

…

When they went to collect their tools, the surroundings were full of whispers.

"Isn't that the kids of the cheater, Morohira?"

"Mmm you're right. Imagine cheating other village folk of their money."

"Right. Such a scumbag thing to do – we barely have enough money to eat in the first place."

Gengyo heard every word that they spoke, as did Rin and Masaatsu, but it was only Masaatsu who displayed a reaction – though it was a rather slight one.

'It seems his weakness is his family. I only hope he'll be able to contain his anger – at least for now.'

Baba showed no indication that he knew of the recent happenings, and smiled warmly as he gave them their tools.

"Good morning you three. Let's have another hard day's work."

A breath of fresh air in an otherwise toxic fog – it was relieving to be greeted by him.

Rin seemingly though the same, as she returned his smile.

"Thanks Baba-san! You have a good day too."

Baba then turned to the rest of the workers - that were gathered inside the shaded dining area where they usually spent lunch - and made an announcement.

"Right, listen up everyone! This is the last day of ploughing, and then we'll start flooding the fields."

His words were met with cheers, as the workers were relieved at the thought of the comparatively easier work.

One worker spoke to another.

"Finally, these calluses on my hands will have time to go down."

"Aye bud, but you know the way the water gets your feet? It's a bit weird – that's the part I don't like. Wrinkly feet."

"Agreed. Wrinkly feet isn't great, but it's still a hell of a lot better than ploughing."

Gengyo shared their thoughts.

'The idea of flooding a field is certainly more appealing than that of ploughing.'

Masaatsu's and Rin's spirits were also raised at this announcement, as the attention was directed away from them, and onto something more positive that incited the workers.

Of course, such a redirection of attention did not last long at all, and as they walked to the field they could hear all sorts of slander behind their backs.

"Man… I'm in a field with one of the cheater's kids. It probably runs in the family, right? I bet the kids are slacking off on their work so that the rest of us have to work even harder."

"You know what, that sounds right. We'll have to make sure that they're pulling their weight!"

…

…

Those words that they had overheard earlier had not been hollow, nor had they not been shared. They meant it.

"Oi! Can you actually do some work, kid? Or are you trying to cheat us just like your dad?"

Gengyo ignored their shouts, and continued working at a comfortable pace. There was no way they could physically hit them – at least not whilst they were in the fields – so there was no need to acknowledge them. Playing ignorant was the best route to dealing with them.

It was not as though he was unused to the harassment either – just days before Aritada and Yoritomo had been doing much the same thing, though of course it was an entirely different context.

Back then, it had been an assault on Gengyo's – or really, Tadakata's – character, so that he knew what he was addressing. But now, it was a lie propagated by father's foolishness.

Gengyo did his best not to feel resentful toward his father – as it was not entirely his fault. Though he still could not help but wish that he was not a man so fond of saké. Or perhaps let him be fond of saké, but perhaps if he wasn't such a bad drunk?

'When we get through this, I'm going to have to find some way of reasoning with this father of mine, else my peaceful life is going to be a dream.'

After ignoring their shouts, a few rocks had come his way, but similar to when Aritada and Yoritomo were messing with him, he was able to dodge them all rather easily.

'It's a little disturbing how quickly people will change.'

'Though I suppose us Japanese people, at this time in history, were a little obsessed with honour. Now that our honour has been degraded by the accusations of this rather authoritative figure from the next village, we're seen to be immoral.'

…

…

When lunchtime came around, they were not allowed to eat in peace.

As Rin bought her rice ball to her mouth, a middle-aged man came over and spat straight into her food.

"Dogs don't mind eating soiled food do they?"

His actions were met with the cheers of his friends, as this was clearly just an act to impress them.

'What a weak man.'

Gengyo could not help but look at him with a certain amount of disgust. He was clearly one of Kyougoku's underlings, but his status amongst them seemed rather low. Thus he had to resort to such low-life actions in order to gain their recognition.

Had he not had his forty years of experience under his belt, it's very likely that Gengyo would have lashed out at the man. But now, luckily, he was able to retain his calm.

Masaatsu looking Gengyo in the eye, seething. He was clearly trying to find an excuse to tear this guy to pieces.

Gengyo shook his head, attempting to convey his thoughts to Masaatsu.

'Not yet.'

He saw his brother begin to take deep breaths, calming himself.

Rin stared at her saliva coloured ball of rice with disgust, frozen by the chaos of such a new event – unsure as what to do.

Gengyo decided her action for her.

He took the rice ball, and threw it as far as he could. It sailed through the air and landed in a cluster of trees a good distance away.

He heard the men tut at his actions, finding a new reason to criticise him.

"Ha, the little bastard even soils the land that we live on."

"Yeah, and he's even wasting good food."

But his course of action was what he perceived to be optimal, for no matter how he reacted there he would not have won the approval of the surrounding people.

He hoped, through his actions, that he could demonstrate one thing: if it was a dog that would choose to eat soiled food, then let that soiled food be found far away from the Miura family.

He then sat down, and split his rice ball in two, giving the other half to Rin.

She accepted it gratefully with a smile.

"Thanks Nii-san…"

…

…

Even as the day drew to a close, they were not spared the ridicule of the other workers.

Now, a small group of people gathered around Baba, complaining about each of the Miura siblings.

"Baba-san, that girl does absolutely no work! It's unfair that she gets the same rewards as us."

"Same with the oldest. He acts like he's hoeing all day, but he's really getting nothing done!"

"That Tadakata – the weak one – is the same too. We kept telling him to get some work done but the fucker kept ignoring us!"

Baba held his hands up in an attempt to calm the crowd, as he had a tired smile on his face.

"Now now, you know that isn't the case. They're good workers, and have been for years."

Baba was able to remain neutral - possibly due to his age. He had been through and experienced many instances of families losing their honour, and the ridicule that came with it, so he was sympathetic and understanding toward the Miura family.

"Yeah, but their father's a cheater Baba-san. They're going to be cheaters too. They have absolutely no honour!"

"Ah, perhaps, and perhaps not. I only see good workers, and that is what our employer wants too."

'If that old man ever needs helping, I'm going to have to make sure to stand beside him.'

Gengyo thought to himself. Baba-san had been very supportive toward him, even in the case of Aritada and Yoritomo. And now that things had grown more serious, he still stood beside him. Or perhaps he stood not beside him, but beside the values that he held. Either way Gengyo could not commend him enough.

Chapter 14: Mount Fujiyama

Later that evening, Gengyo made his way through the forest following the route they had walked yesterday.

He was feeling mildly irritated following the events of the day, but he did his best to calm himself before he met up with Akiko.

He passed through the remaining trees and arrived at the gateway to the courtyard that Akiko had disappeared into yesterday, and fashioned himself a comfortable waiting place on a nearby log.

There was a clear path from the mansion toward the rice fields and the like, but bordering the path were trees on each side.

'If such a place were to be attacked, they would have a hard time spotting any enemies.'

Gengyo thought to himself idly, stroking his chin.

The wall surrounding the mansion and its land was not that high either. It could be jumped rather easily, and was most likely designed with style in mind rather than defence.

And style is what it certainly achieved. It perfectly captured the height of medieval Japanese architecture with its angular tile rooves and whitewashed walls that sat upon a layer of wood.

'If it looks this well-to-do from the outside, the inside has got to be pretty good.'

Gengyo had not gotten a good look at the inside yesterday as it had been dark – even darker than it was now – and he had been in a hurry to leave.

'Anyway… Where's that girl? I'm surprised that she's making me wait, considering it's her that wants to be out so badly.'

He moved closer to the gateway, intending to attempt to peer through the gap between the two solid wood doors that occupied the frame.

He leaned forward, pressing his face against the wood to secure the best view.

But inside the courtyard he could see nothing. A mere stretch of gravel filled his view, with the bottom of some trees revealing themselves at times depending on his viewing angle.

"BOO!"

A loud shout directly next to his ear caused Gengyo to flinch, heavily.

He bashed his nose against the wood, giving a snort of pain as he turned around to face his attacker.

"Hahaha! Your face! Who would have thought you'd be scared so easily?!"

A gloating Akiko held her belly in laughter as she giggled uncontrollably causing tears to form in the corners of her eyes.

Gengyo stared at her in a stupor. It was such a ridiculous set of events that he had trouble processing what had happened.

Holding his nose – so his voice came off a little more nasally than it normally might – he attempted to voice some complaints.

"Did you… seriously… wait there all this time? I've been here for like ten minutes…"

His words only caused Akiko's laughter to grow louder.

"Hahaha… My god… hahaha… it was so worth it!"

Gengyo could only shake his head in exasperation at her childish antics, waiting for her to calm down.

Well, that's all he would have liked to have done, but he could not help smiling despite himself.

'It's been a long time since I've been involved in something so silly… It feels rather refreshing.'

Though he had been the butt of the joke this time, it had lightened his mood considerably.

Akiko showed no signs of calming down, so Gengyo attempted to move things forward.

"Come on Akiko, jump up. We're going to be bringing your entire household guard down on us if you keep laughing like a madman."

"Fufu, okayyy!"

She conceded the point, covering her mouth with her hand as she moved onto Gengyo's back.

Her hair fell past Gengyo's head, tickling his neck and filling his nose with a comforting feminine scent.

Akiko dried the tears of laughter from her eyes, and she leaned forward letting loose some idle chatter.

"So how was your day, Scaredy-cat-san?"

Gengyo winced a little at her question, but dared not let such thoughts ruin his good mood.

"It's –san now? You're finally giving me the respect I deserve, Swan-kun."

"'Swan-kun?'"

"Yup. Did I not tell you? When I look at you a swan comes to mind."

Akiko tilted her head, feeling there was a compliment hidden somewhere.

"Because of the purity of my character, and my awe-inspiring beauty."

"Nah. Just when you were hiding in the undergrowth that time, I thought you were a swan. Something about the way you acted."

Akiko pouted, still searching for her compliment.

"My actions were dignified and purposeful, right? Like a swan."

"Oh no, quite the opposite I'm afraid. I thought only a bird would be behaving so foolishly."

"But-"

Gengyo cut her off as he continued his teasing.

"To be honest with you, Niwa-san, when you emerged I felt a little disappointed in the human race. For a good few minutes, I honestly thought about killing myself."

She chopped the back of his head as hard as she could – which incidentally was not very hard – pouting all the while.

"That's so cruel! I asked you how your day was, and then you tell say that meeting me made you want to kill yourself! You're a cold man, Miura-kun."

Gengyo shrugged.

"My apologies my lady. Your profound beauty makes me act unlike myself. Let me – who is most unworthy – return the question. How was your day?"

Akiko was quiet for a time, realizing that she was being made fun of, but was rather unsure how to begin to deal with it. In the end, ignoring it seemed to be the best path.

"Well… It was a little boring. There's not much I can do with my foot, so I sat in my room and read all day."

Gengyo nodded with interest. Reading had been a favourite hobby of his in the many hours he had spent alone.

"Mmm, reading eh? I did not realize that Niwa-san had such refined interests. What kind of things do you like to read?"

"You're making fun of me again…"

"No, truly, I wish to know what the kind lady reads."

"Uhm… Poetry. But my favourite are travel novels, about people who get to go on all kinds of adventures."

"Heh, travel novels eh? I would have thought romance or something of the like."

"No way. Romance doesn't exist. It's just people pretending that they're enjoying the marriage they were forced into it. But anyway, did you know that there's this big mountain called Mount Fujiyama? Warriors climb it – it's really hard – to prove their strength."

"Mm. I'd heard some rumours. It's not that far from here I don't think. Perhaps you could visit it yourself one day."

Akiko went quiet at that.

"You don't want to?"

She shook her head.

"No… it's not that. I really want to."

"But?"

"There's no way I'd be able to Miura-kun. There's no way either of us will be able to."

Gengyo felt a little sorry hearing that, and attempted to cheer her up.

"Sure we could. We could walk there right now."

Akiko tilted her head. The nuance of what he meant had escaped her.

"Don't be silly Miura-kun. There's no way we'd be able to do that."

"Why not?"

"Well… that's… There's my father, he'd never let me go – especially not with you. And we'd need food, and horses."

"We needn't tell him, we could just leave. No one would ever find us if we were careful."

Akiko started to take him a little too seriously.

"It's too sudden… I'm not sure if I'm ready to go right now."

Gengyo shook his head.

"I didn't mean that we should really head there now. I just meant that it's well within our capabilities. If we ever felt like it, travelling to Mt Fujiyama would be easy enough done. It's pretty far, but we'd get there. We could travel anywhere we want, providing we could find some food along the way."

Akiko stared across the expanse of water that now filled her vision, as Gengyo gently set her to the floor and she took a deep breath.

"Mm… When you say it like that, I start to believe it to be true."

Gengyo turned to look her in the eye, offering his honest thoughts.

"Why shouldn't you? There's no reason for you to play out the card you were dealt, little lady. There would be no meaning to life if we gave up on our dreams."

She offered him a gentle smile, taken in by his philosophy, and nodded.

"I hope you're right, Miura-kun, because I don't have much time left."

Gengyo was put off by those ominous words, and frowned slightly.

"Not much time left… Surely you're not thinking of killing yourself?"

Akiko shook her hands in front of her, indicating a negative response.

"No no, nothing like that. It's just, when I get married that man, my life will no longer be my own."

He nodded, understanding.

"Do your best to endure, and if it is ever too much, I'm sure Fujiyama would be happy to make your acquaintance."

Silence reigned for a while, as a gloomy atmosphere began to take over.

'The kid's got it rough, but she'll probably find that the man she's set to marry isn't as bad as she thinks. Our brain does a good job of distorting the things that we're reluctant to do into grotesque monsters.'

"Ah, Niwa-san. I have a little surprise for you."

Her face perked up a little as curiosity took over.

"Oh? What is it?"

Gengyo gestured for her to follow, and they walked towards a patch of reeds that occupied a spot near the shoreline.

"Have a peak."

Gengyo held back a layer of reads, offering a better view.

"My! Is that the raft you were talking about building yesterday? How did you manage to get it all done by yourself?"

Excitement now filled her eyes.

"Aye. I managed to complete it yesterday, but it was difficult, as I spent a good couple of hours helping an injured swan."

His teasing was met with a pout and a look of indignation.

"You mean me? Honestly Miura-san, there has never been a ruder peasant in existence. If you spoke like this to my father, he'd probably club you to death."

"And you seem to be fond of speaking some rather grotesque words for a lady, so I'd say we make fairly good company."

Akiko giggled, appreciating his wit.

"Yup. Father always used to scold me about it."

Gengyo began to pull the raft toward clearer water, fetching a long bamboo pole in the process.

"Good, I hope he scolds you more in future."

He then leapt onto the surface of the raft, causing it to shake violently almost throwing him off.

He then extended his hand to Akiko to help her on.

"I hope the swan knows how to swim."

She gulped, but took his hand. His words were not exactly encouraging.

Her step sent the raft backwards, causing her to lose balance with a rather feminine squeak.

Gengyo's grasp of her hand allowed him to quickly stabilise her.

"Ah, I'd appreciate it if you didn't break my bow straight away."

She blushed, recalling the noise she had just uttered.

"Hmph. It's so strange to stand on. Even if I did break your silly little bow - that you foolishly left right in the middle of the raft - it wouldn't be my fault!"

Her reaction only caused his grin to widen as he poled them away from the shore.

When they were a good distance away – almost 60 paces from the usual target – Gengyo took up his bow.

"Would it trouble the lady if I were to loose a couple of arrows?"

Akiko was kneeling down, looking into the depths of the clear water at the panicked fish swimming by.

"Mmm, sure."

She was not exactly paying all her attention to what he was saying.

Not that such a thing bothered Gengyo, who already had the string pulled back toward his cheek and was lining up the perfect shot, intending to it time his release just right with the sway of their raft.

Chapter 15: The Peaceful Lake and the Heavy Heart

The arrow unleashed with a loud twang, forcing their raft backwards a little.

"Ah!"

Akiko jumped at the sudden splash of water.

The trajectory of the arrow was true, and it flew the 60 paces remaining on course. The target from this distance was rather small, so anywhere near it could be considered good.

But this arrow did not only get near, it also managed to scrape the top.

Gengyo nodded with satisfaction.

'Good. The earlier shots have proven to be rather transferrable, and even this distance and instability don't affect me too much. Of course, I need to practice so that I can consistently get a bullseye from such a range, but this is a promising start.'

"Miura-kun, the wind is picking up a little…"

Gengyo acknowledged her words, and his attention went to the water.

With the increase in wind, waves were starting to build up across the lake, taking their little raft up and down with them.

"Hmm… Let's continue on to the island and hopefully the waters will get less choppy in a little while."

Akiko was still a little apprehensive.

"Are you sure…? It's meant to be dangerous to be caught on the water when the wind picks up."

"I'm not an expert, but it should be fine for us. If the lake was a little larger, perhaps we could worry. But here even if anything went wrong, we'd be able to swim back fine."

"Mhhh… But I can't swim…"

Gengyo tutted slightly, for he'd figured as much.

'There's a limit to how much you should shelter your daughter – even if she is the child of nobility.'

"Even so, you'll be fine. It's worth the risk – let's go and explore that island of yours."

Still unconvinced, Akiko nodded reservedly, allowing Gengyo to pole them forwards.

'I wonder how Masaatsu's getting on with his bowmanship. I should test him sometime in the future to make sure that his progress is as expected.'

Gengyo thought to himself. He had been lending Masaatsu the bow each morning – as Masaatsu tended to wake earlier than the rest of the family – so that he could train. It was a rather good arrangement, in which both of them could practise the bow at the time that suited them.

A few ducks swam by the side of the raft, curious as to what this new creature was.

They quacked away, and some even jumped on the side of the raft, before immediately jumping back down again.

Akiko giggled at their antics, attempting to pat them on the head.

They grew closer to the island, and a few nesting swans were revealed. It would make their exploration troublesome – as they would have to do so without offending such residents – but it was still doable.

Gengyo jumped off first, holding a length of twine to secure the raft.

He promptly tied it around a small tree before turning to offer Akiko a hand in disembarking.

"Well, what do you think? This is the island you've always wanted to get to."

"Mm… It feels strange. A little underwhelming I suppose. There's not much here."

"Ah, but perhaps you're looking at it in the wrong way. We already knew that there wouldn't be much to the island – it's tiny after all. Instead, look around us at the water. Look towards the shore, does it not feel a little strange?"

Her eyes widened as she followed his instructions, before a contended smile began to decorate her face.

"Ah… It's being able to look at where we came from whilst enjoying where we are."

Gengyo turned to her, surprised by the sudden eloquence.

"That was remarkably well put, Niwa-san."

She blushed, waving away his compliments.

"Well, I read a lot of poetry, you know… So it'd be embarrassing if I wasn't able to do that much."

"Ho… The sheltered young lady is not a dim as she first seemed."

She looked away with mock disdain.

"Hmph!"

Gengyo recalled something that he'd thought earlier.

"You seem like you've always wanted a pet."

Akiko turned sharply at his words, impressed by his perception.

"How did you know?"

"The way you interacted with the ducks earlier. It just surprises me that a samurai – someone who would have no problem paying for a little dog or rabbit or something of the like – did not get one for you."

She breathed in deeply, collecting her thoughts as she stared at Gengyo admiringly.

"Well… He always said it would be cruel to get me attached to a pet only to have it die later on."

"That's a rather pessimistic stance. Everything will die at some point, but that doesn't mean we should avoid getting close to people – or things."

Akiko turned away from Gengyo to observe the nesting swans.

"He has every right to be… Because of mother."

Gengyo did not need to turn around to see the emotion expressed on her face, for he could already feel it in her voice. A deep, numbing sadness.

He knew that his next question was insensitive, but he felt he had to ask it.

"How?"

She crouched down, running her hand through the long grass before softly whispering her response.

"Poison."

Gengyo tutted, feeling a good amount of distaste.

'Poison, and on a woman. I can guess why it was done: to hurt the husband. It's disgusting though. It's no wonder her father's become as he is.'

He sighed, moved by this new emotion.

"When I look at a man, I do try my best to seek out his goodness. But there are some people, that are so twisted – so vile – that the only honourable thing to do is to rid them from the earth."

Akiko's reply betrayed a voice raw with emotion.

"Is it not possible to see such evil when they are born? And to put an end to it all before it even begins?"

Gengyo put a hand on her shoulder, attempting to reason with her, for that was not a healthy line of thought.

"I'm afraid not. The path a person chooses is oft as a result of the life that they have suffered – but undoubtedly some people are more inclined to one route than others – and as such it would be wrong not to give them a chance."

"You see, no matter how twisted the tree may have ended up growing, it always had the potential to be straight. So when we see the twisted man, and are forced to end his life, we should not be gleeful but sad, for the world was robbed of great beauty."

"…Like pulling up rice infected by blight."

"Your poetic heart speaks once more."

"But by feeling sorry for the twisted, won't that mean that more good men die? It doesn't seem right to me, Miura-kun."

Her words betrayed a bitterness, and her watering eyes told of her anger.

"Oh, you are right. We should always deal with them at our full strength, and only when we have fulfilled our task should we allow emotion to weaken us."

"Do you truly think that you could kill a man, Miura-kun?"

Gengyo spared no time in his response, for it was a question he had oft considered. In his many years spent alone, there was nought he could do to quell his unrest except consult philosophy, and with those readings his moralities grew in strength, allowing him to distinguish unambiguously between what is right and wrong.

"If that man poses a threat to me, or those I love, then I would be able to kill such a man."

He said resolutely.

Akiko looks turned fearsome, as she named her own target.

"There is one that I can definitely kill."

He felt a slight shiver at those words, for they seemed authentic.

Daring not to ask more, for he already knew the answer to whom, he remained silent. There was no way he could pass judgement on a man he did not know – nor would it be his right to do so.

"The wind is picking up even more… I feel like it's going to rain."

Akiko wrinkled her brow at the prospect of getting wet.

"It's a shame, but perhaps we should go home for today?"

He nodded in agreement.

"That seems wise."

He unbound the raft and hopped on, gathering the pole in his hands to push them off after Akiko jumped on behind him.

"Niwa-san. Would you mind holding onto my bow and arrows? I'm worried they might get swept away in these waves."

"Okay… but are you sure this is safe?"

Her words were followed by a flash of lightning that bore a crack in the sky.

A rumble of thunder then followed a few seconds later.

"It's safe enough, assuming you don't want to be caught out in a thunderstorm?"

Akiko bit her lip, evidently nervous.

"Okay… but please hurry."

Gengyo poled them away from the shore, and it wasn't long before they had their first wave to negotiate with.

It was not what one might call huge, but a wave of any sort was difficult to handle when you were perched atop a flat wooden raft.

Their feet were thoroughly drenched as the raft was covered in a layer of water. Akiko found herself gripping Gengyo's sleeve, trying to retain her balance.

The waves were more numerous than one might hope, propelled on by a vicious wind.

The same wind had nearly enough strength to throw them off their feet, and still, they had the waves to contend with.

Very soon the first few drops of rain began to fall – at first a mere light dusting, sending relaxing ripples in the water.

But it did not take long for such a gentle down poor to transition into a barrage of a billion heavy water droplets.

Within seconds they were soaked, but they could do nought but grit their and grip onto their lifeguards tightly – for Gengyo it was his pole, and for Akiko, it was Gengyo.

They neared the shore without having capsized and let out a sigh of relief, for the worst had been dealt with.

Still, the rain had not let up in the slightest, and the moaning of thunder and the flashes of lightning were enough to make them feel unsettled.

Gengyo disembarked hurriedly, helping Akiko down who held his tools.

"Man, this is grim."

Akiko could not agree more.

"I'm really cold…"

She looked to be even more drenched than Gengyo, with her long dark hair sticking to the side of her face, revealing her defined features. It was a rather beautiful sight, and one that Gengyo could not help but appreciate.

"I imagine. Let's quickly get you home, and that maid of yours will draw you a nice hot bath, eh?"

"Mmm, that sounds nice."

She was lifted onto Gengyo's back, and her ice-cold hands found their way around Gengyo's neck, causing him to flinch slightly.

'Damn… she really is cold.'

Urged on by the relentless weather, he moved through the forest with haste, only slowing enough so that they would not slip on the slick mud.

Akiko began sneezing on their way back, causing him to worry slightly.

'A sheltered girl like her has no chance when it's this cold.'

They arrived, and took shelter under the gate's roof, waiting for Akiko's maid.

A woman spotted them through the slightly ajar gate doors, and quickly came towards them.

Gengyo turned to Akiko for confirmation, and received a nod in reply.

The maid looked Gengyo up and down curiously, and the thoughts in her head were clear.

'What on earth is the young lady doing with a peasant like him?'

He ignored her stares, and handed her a shivering Akiko, offering a few parting words.

"She's ice cold. Make sure she gets a hot bath, else she's liable to fall ill – well, that's if she hasn't already."

The maid did not reply, but instead turned to Akiko, and began to help her inside.

The young lady turned around to offer her farewells, before disappearing into the dark courtyard.

"See you tomorrow, Miura-kun."

Chapter 16: Flooding

"…I'm really not looking forward to today."

Rin complained, envisioning the prospect of another day's worth of harassment.

Masaatsu shared a similar opinion.

"Mhm. It's going to be rough."

Trying to lighten the mood, Gengyo offered some positives.

"But at least we no longer have to do any ploughing."

Fuku helped out, offering words of encouragement to her sorrowful children.

"Tadakata's right. You get to do the flooding, and in a couple of days this drama will all pass over, and you can enjoy the easier work."

"What if it doesn't?"

Masaatsu's question was more directed toward Gengyo than anyone else.

Gengyo's reply was confident and resolute, surprising his family members.

"If today is the same as yesterday – which I assume it will be – then we'll set a plan in motion."

"Ha? A plan? What kind of plan can get us out of this mess?"

It was Mirohara that responded with such bitterness.

'There is always one bad apple in an otherwise optimistic bunch.'

Gengyo thought to himself.

"I wonder."

In truth, he had not yet thought of a plan, for he was lacking for inspiration necessary. He planned to let his mind wander throughout the working day, and hope that the dots began to connect themselves.

"Tsch. I knew your words were empty."

Fuku looked depressed at her husband's words, but in truth, she had not expected much from Gengyo either. Tadakata had always been a mild-mannered and weak-willed boy and though his character had certainly changed lately – in her eyes – she did not know of his recent achievements.

Rin and Masaatsu were a little more hopeful, but a degree of doubt still lingered. They loved their brother, and had come to admire him, but the situation was too pitiful.

Shrugging, Gengyo pointed the topic elsewhere.

"That aside, how is your training come along, brother?"

The unexpected question caused Masaatsu to pause a moment as he sat in thought.

"Hmm… I'm not sure whether to call it good or not."

"What kind of things have you been doing?"

"Shooting at birds, squirrels, and the like."

"And?"

"Well, I find my footsteps give me away before I manage to make the shot, so I've only hit 5 animals in the last few days."

"Hoh..."

Gengyo breathed out, rather impressed.

'His training technique is poor, but his success rate isn't bad considering he's learning two skills at the same time – archery, and hunting. In fact, that kind of kill rate having only recently become familiar with the bow is a little extraordinary.'

"I know… It's shameful, but in time I will improve."

"Not at all, it's only that the method you're using to train is rather difficult, but it's likely a better skill in the long run."

Masaatsu perked up at those words.

"Really? Then what method do you use to train?"

"Uh, I just shoot a target. I can hit the bullseye from 60 paces, but of course, it's not a moving target like yours so it's less impressive."

His eyes all but bulged out his head hearing that.

"What!? 60 paces already? I'm only at about 20 paces… How big is your bullseye?"

Gengyo held his hands side by side, giving an indication of the size of his target.

"My god…"

"As I said, it's not a moving target so it's a lot easier."

"I have a lot of work to do."

"Yup. Me too. We need to be able to hit the bullseye at a range of 250 paces if we want to call ourselves experts."

"That's… I understand."

Feeling a little left out at that conversation, Rin made herself known.

"Yeah, I'm training with the naginata so I can become an Onna-bugeisha like Tomoe Gozen."

Laughing, Gengyo ruffled her hair, enjoying her joking.

"To be honest, I think you'd make a rather good Onna-bugeisha. Though you'd probably be a little too violent for the townspeople's liking…"

…

…

Another grizzly reception awaited them at work that morning, with even more people joining in with the insults.

"Look who rocked up to work again today. Here to collect another freebie, are ya kids?"

"Well. It should be harder for them to cheat now that we're doing the flooding."

"You think? Cheating's in their blood. They'll find a way. Probably only fill the bucket half full of some stupid shit."

"Aye, true, that sounds about right."

Gengyo spied Aritada and Yoritomo somewhere off in the corner, as they cast him a pitying glance.

'They made a good choice. Don't join in with the bullshit, but it's not like I want you standing up for me either.'

Baba was running through the process of flooding for the youngsters that had just joined in with the farming this year.

"Alright, so the river's a ten-minute walk from here. Take two buckets with you, and get them filled. When you get back, empty the water into the trench. Then repeat, got it?"

They voiced their understanding, and he nodded satisfied.

'Will this really be easier than ploughing? The buckets seem quite heavy.'

'Oh, but I suppose you can catch a break at the river a bit.'

"If I catch anyone walking too slow, or dallying by the riverside, the punishment won't be pretty."

Baba's words instantly demolished Gengyo's reasoning and he began to frown.

'…Surely this isn't that good? I mean, you're away from the monotony of ploughing all day, but instead you're carrying heavy buckets of water. Then again, the women – like Rin – are doing it, so they can't be too heavy.'

'In the first place, is flooding meant to be done by hand, carrying buckets of water? Though I suppose we're uphill from the river, so we don't have much choice.'

"Here are your buckets. Good work again today please, Miura-kun."

"Thanks, Baba-san!"

Gengyo received his rather heavy wooden buckets with respect, but as soon as Baba's attention was turned around to Rin, he allowed a frown to fill his face.

'These aren't small… Nor are they light… Could it be, I was lied to?'

Gengyo planned to find the truth of it from Masaatsu or Rin later on, but for now he could only feign a smile and do his best.

He began to walk away, anticipating a hard days work.

"Nii-san, where are you going?"

He spun around to see his siblings following him, and raised an eyebrow.

"Are we meant to be doing this together?"

Masaatsu and Rin shared a glance that contained a good amount of concern.

"What do you mean? That's is the best part. We did it last year and the year before..."

Gengyo frowned, scratching his head. His lack of knowledge of Tadakata's past was a little troubling at times.

"Are you sure? We'll be putting water in different fields, which are different distances from the river."

Masaatsu shook his head.

"No, you're misunderstanding brother. All the workers fill one field at a time – as we've always done."

'Heh… I thought they wanted to split the workers up, but I suppose working this way makes more sense.'

"Well, we better hurry then. Best not give them even more excuses to mess with us."

And so the day passed by with idle conversation, and was accented by brief instances of remarkably dull conflicts.

One overeager young man sprinted past them with water buckets in hand – which of course were spilling – and left them with a parting comment.

"Hurry up idiots!"

They could only offer up a silent prayer for the young man's parents, having borne such a son.

'I imagine his body finds it rather upsetting having such a poor host.'

A few seconds later the boy was stopped by a rather cross Baba.

"Katou-kun! What hell are you doing? Those buckets are barely half full. Go back and fill them up again – and walk back sensibly this time."

The boy's reaction was splendid as he walked past them, red from head to toe.

They could not help but giggle.

"Wow… He's even dumber than you used to be Nii-san."

Gengyo's eyebrow twitched, even though it wasn't technically 'him' who that comment was referring to.

"Was I really that bad?"

"Yup. Worse at times."

Masaatsu nodded deeply in agreement.

"Which is why I'm so surprised by what you've been up to lately. Have you been hiding your intelligence from us all these years?"

He awkwardly scratched the back of his head as he searched for a suitable explanation.

"Uhm… Not exactly… Kinda?"

But luckily they did not press him.

"Well, whatever happened, I'm glad it did. Nii-san is much cooler now!"

…

…

The day was nearing its close, and Gengyo very much looked forward to getting out of the scorching heat.

Though he had a relatively pleasant day – apart from the little eccentricities of other people – the constant movement and the overpowering sun had left him feeling drained.

"Day's almost over, Nii-san."

Rin said, as she crouched down longer than usual to fill the bucket - it seemed she was enjoying the feeling of the cold water

"Yup. And all three of you have done fuck all, good work!"

A gruff, balding middle-aged man came up behind them, followed by his buddies who gave a hearty laugh at his remark.

He walked towards the river as well. Rin glanced back distastefully as he walked behind her. Being so near the likes of him was degrading.

THWACK

A sudden, impulsive kick, executed without a single care for it's recipient. He had not even looked towards her as he lashed out with his left leg, and sent her stumbling into the water.

She let out a surprised shriek, before she tumbled headfirst into the first fast-flowing river, swallowing a mouthful of water.

Masaatsu froze.

'What the hell...'

He had trouble processing what he had just seen. And then, there was that smirk on the man's face. He was so very pleased with himself.

It was only when he saw Gengyo shoot forward, to grab hold of the end of the back of Rin's kimono - the only part still within reach - that he was able to force his body into action.

He dove forward to join his brother, as they pulled their sister to safety. It was lucky that she had bound her kimono tightly, as its binding was the only thing that had allowed them to hold onto to her. Though it had come away slightly, threatening to reveal her chest.

She came to shore, soaked, unable to comprehend what had just happened, as she choked up a mouthful of river water.

THWACK

For days he had dealt with the words and jibes of the village people, who seemed so eager to disregard them, under the weight of Kyougoku's accusations. And he had bared with it, for that was the sensible thing to do.

But this? This was not something he could forgive. As soon as he had confirmed the safety of Rin, his anger had exploded, and he had thrashed the attacker with a ferocious fist, sending him crashing to the ground.

The man fell, dazed. They all were. Even his followers. They had chortled upon seeing his teasing of the Miura family, but the last thing they expected was this. The weakest lad in the village, Tadakata, had stood up to their boss, and actually felled him.

"...Don't ever... Ever... touch my sister again."

He announced venomously through gritted teeth, truly enraged.

His followers took a step forward, as though to avenge their leader, but after receiving the full weight of his glare, they thought twice. There was no one there to stop him, as he took his sister's hand, and lead them through the group of men.

Kushizu Ujimasa - the felled man - held his bruised jaw, gritting his teeth against the pain.

'Now that... That was a fucking solid punch.'

That single thought went through his head. Pain was nothing unusual to him, and more than anything, he despised weakness. He was not the type to simply suppress a man for the sake of it - he craved excitement.

"Boss... Ain't we gonna go after them?"

One of his men asked. He tutted in irritation. He had been enjoying the moment.

"They say that boy's trash... Doesn't look much like trash to me."

He mused. There was only one man he remembered that could hit that hard, but that man had been forced to give up fighting years before. After his years in retirement, Kushizu - who had once respected him greatly - had begun to look down on him, same as the rest.

But now it seemed someone had inherited his skill. And that person was - rather strangely - his weakest son.

Chapter 17: A Plan

"Are you okay, Rin?"

They both fussed over her extensively, worried that she might have sustained further injuries due to the force of the kick, and the way that she landed, though she had already dried herself off and was in a fresh pair of clothes.

"I'm fine, really! You guys saved me - thanks a lot."

She said with a sweet smile.

"D'ya think that guy will cause any more trouble?"

She asked nervously. After seeing Gengyo punch him as he had, that worry had been present with her. But still, whilst it was certainly not the wisest course of action, she was grateful that he did it. And the words that he had spoken - they had been so very... reassuring.

"Don't worry about it too much. The main problem is this Kyougoku - we'll deal with that first."

"Ughh, but I still can't help wanting to punch him…"

Morohira said. He regretted not being able to exact his revenge on Rin's assailant as well. But it was all so sudden for him, and he had not reacted as he wished to. For that reason, he was grateful of Gengyo. He had performed as Masaatsu himself wished to.

It was then that Morohira walked in, still covered in his wounds – though the bruises were starting to go a more yellow colour than blue now – and looking to be in a rather foul mood.

"What's all this about wanting to punch someone? Don't you think I want to do the same?"

Masaatsu hung his head a little shamefully after being overheard by his father.

"Of course I do father… Hahh, it's probably better that I calm down. You're all right."

The old man heaved himself down by the table, pouring himself a drink.

"That's not what I'm saying. More than any of you can imagine, I want to punch that Kyougoku and put him in his place. A fair fight – that would be nice."

Gengyo - who initially had not been paying his father's bitter ramblings much thought - suddenly perked up.

"You think you could beat him, father?"

Morohira shot a glance his way as he raised the glass to his lips, searching for any sarcasm in his son's words.

He tutted, but chose to answer honestly.

"Yeah, without a doubt. I used to fight in the village festival, and I won for ten years straight. Even if there were three of him, I could still probably win."

His oldest son nodded enthusiastically. It was a tale he had heard before, and was one of the reasons he admired his father so much. But Masaatsu had not yet had the chance to prove his skill, so Morohira still deemed him to be lacking.

He was not the only one who was listening attentively – Gengyo also had his ears primed, with his mind awhirl with certain thoughts.

"Even with those injuries, could you beat him?"

"Hah, are you making fun of me kid? My injuries are all but healed – that bastard wouldn't last two seconds."

Gengyo snapped his fingers in excitement (it was an old habit of his from a time when he had spent his evenings with his mindset on solving certain problems).

"Brilliant."

His sudden outburst attracted the attention of the entire room, and irritated his father.

"I knew you were taking the piss…"

"No, father, that's not it. I now have a plan to regain your honour."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

Rin grabbed at his sleeve in excitement.

"Really, Nii-san? Please tell us!"

"Father, will you fight Kyougoku tomorrow?"

His father frowned, confused at the question.

"Eh? I mean, if the idiot is dumb enough to come at me alone, then I'll knock the shit out of him."

"Good. I can arrange that."

"..? How?"

"I'll make an announcement at work tomorrow, forcing him into a duel. He will accept, else he'll lose honour. And upon our victory, he has to admit the truth."

Masaatsu had a hand on his chin, processing the details.

"How do you know he'll accept? Father's a good fighter after all – he's certain to lose."

"Too right son. I'm going to play around with the shape of the bastard's spine – see if I can make a nice circle out of it."

"Haha, him accepting depends on father, for Kyougoku will be allowed a wooden weapon – a club or something, and father will have to fight unarmed."

The room froze at that unexpected detail, with their eyes widening.

Morohira slowly placed his glass back down on the table, allowing it to make no sound as it made contact with the wood.

And then he sat back, brushing his hair off his face, and covering his mouth with a hand.

His shoulders started to heave up and down and his face contorted. It looked as though the man was having a seizure.

That was, until, a booming laugh escaped his lips and he collapsed to the floor in a mad fit.

"Hahahahahaha! Oh, that is fucking brilliant!"

Rin turned from their father to share a questioning glance with Gengyo who only shrugged in response.

It was only Masaatsu who seemed to be able to understand his father's reaction.

Suddenly the laughter stopped, and Morohira pulled himself bolt upright, before standing up in front of his children.

"This, this is a good fucking idea. Worry not, Tadakata, I can break him even if he brought a katana. And with this, he will have to bear the humiliation that I have felt – sorry, that we have felt."

Gengyo grinned, inspired by his father's extremely positive reaction, and he clapped his hands together.

"I'm looking forward to this!"

…

…

Later that evening, Gengyo made his way to Akiko's mansion.

He spotted the sleeve of her kimono sticking out from behind one of the gate's pillars, and sighed to himself.

'How did I manage to get caught out by such an obvious hiding place?'

Strolling past the gate, he muttered to himself as though oblivious to Akiko's presence.

"That swan… She's late again…"

He could see the sleeve shake slightly, spurred on by Akiko's repressed giggles.

When he passed the pillar, she was so easy to see that it almost felt bad to drag this out anything further. But still, the girl didn't budge, seeming to believe that Gengyo wouldn't find her.

He made a ruckus as he sat down on a rock, muttering to himself all the while. And then with his sandals slipped off, he crept toward the lady who fancied herself a ninja.

A firm pair of cold hands clamping down on her shoulders caused her to jump up with a terrified shriek.

She dashed forward a few metres before turning back, only then realizing it was Gengyo.

"Ah! You…"

Gengyo smiled lightly, enjoying his stab at a little revenge.

The lady in question had a much harder time calmer down, with her hand on her chest, heaving deep breaths.

"How are you, miss Niwa?"

"I was fine…."

She murmured pitifully.

"Haha. Cheer up – it was just a little bit of payback."

She coughed lightly into her hand, attempting to lead the conversation away from her defeat which she was evidently embarrassed about – betrayed by the blush that decorated her cheeks.

"Ahem… Shall we get going?"

At that, the youth in front of her straightened up, growing serious.

"Niwa-san, before that, I have a request to make of you."

The girl stiffened, alarmed by his sudden change in disposition – she felt like she was dealing with an entirely different person.

"W-what is it?"

He retained his seriousness, and stated his want clearly, with a degree of bluntness.

"I want to meet your father."

She reeled back at those words, shocked.

"Ehhhh?! What's this all of a sudden?"

"Could you pretend that I helped you whilst you were lost in the forest, or something similar, to put him in a position where he owes me a small favour?"

Akiko blinked her eyes, with her head full of questions.

"But why…?"

"I understand it will be uncomfortable for you – given your relationship to him – but I'm in great need of his assistance. Do not worry, I will not be attempting to force him to do anything."

"Eh, that's not what I meant… I did promise you a favour, but this is a little..?"

Gengyo bowed at his waist.

"Please, Niwa-san, this is a matter of great importance to my family."

The little lady felt immensely uncomfortable at having this – rather odd – peasant bow toward her. Rightly, a peasant should be prostrating themselves simply being in her presence, but this man had a certain air about him that forced one to look past his class.

"Mhhh, please raise your head Miura-kun."

She closed her eyes tightly, clenching her fists as though she was trying to work up the willpower to make a decision.

"Alright! I'll do it. But you have to make sure to keep holding your end of the bargain up – trips to the lake every day, got it?"

The young man smiled at her straightforwardness, pleased that it was her that he had to make this request of.

"Now that, I think I can do."

Akiko returned his smile, feeling a sudden enthusiasm for the task ahead.

"Okay! How are we going to do this?"

"Uh, what I said earlier, about you getting lost. We can say that you got lost because of the dark – that way he won't stop you from going out in future, but will scold you a little about being careless. Is that fine?"

"Mhmm, not bad. I think I can pretend to walk normally long enough whilst I deal with father, and then I'll get him to talk to you."

Gengyo was surprised by her confidence, and realized that she and her father must have a better relationship than he expected.

"That's perfect. Thanks again, Niwa-san."

…

They then proceeded to spend the rest of the evening back by the lake, until it got dark.

They took to the waters on the raft once more, and Gengyo practised his archery from the same distance, this time managing to strike the target at 60 paces consistently.

When they disembarked, Akiko had expressed her interest in wanting to help him train, and so he had immediately put her to good use.

Through a little contraption – though it was possibly too simple to be called a contraption, for it was a mere log and some twine – he brought in training that anticipated the movement of his enemies.

"Push now!"

He called out to his helper, who promptly pushed the log with all her might.

It followed a parabolic path, like all pendulums might, and sped upwards.

Gengyo released his arrow a second after the push – as he needed a moment to measure the speed – intending to hit it at its highest point.

This being his fourth shot, the bullseye was almost preordained given his past record, and it sunk into the target without much fuss.

Akiko felt almost as much joy as he did at finally making the target after a good three missed attempts, and she shot him a proud thumbs up.

"Good work, Miura-kun!"

He returned the gesture, smiling.

'I'm glad she's having fun.'

He proceeded to increase the distance at varying angles on his different shots, so that by the time the evening had concluded he was able to hit a bullseye at 80 paces whilst on the shore, a bullseye at 60 paces whilst the target was in motion, and a bullseye at around 70 paces when on the raft.

It was a step up, and with the addition of the motion training – inspired by Masaatsu – Gengyo had a good feeling about his rate of progress and felt as though everything was finally starting to tie together.

Still, he could not shake the hint of anxiety he held in his heart about the meeting he intended to have with Akiko's father.

Chapter 18: The Master

"Are we really doing this?"

Came Akiko's anxious question as they stood outside the mansion's gates, preparing themselves for the task ahead.

"Aye. I'll wait in the courtyard and you meet with your father."

She nodded taking deep breaths to steel herself.

"Okay…"

"Maybe if I had a better style of dress, this might be easier. Perhaps a clean kimono and a katana at my waist."

"I don't think that matters for you."

Gengyo tilted his headed at the curious comment, but allowed it to slide.

"Good luck."

"Yup. Let's go."

They walked slowly into the courtyard, each feeling a little apprehensive.

"I think you should sit down on the bench."

The young man shook his head.

"I don't want to give off an impression of disrespect on my first meeting. I'll stand."

"Okay…"

She moved off toward the main building – the only two-story building in the dwelling – passing rows of bungalows along the way.

These lesser buildings were meant for the guards, maids and the like.

'Speaking of guards… There will be some on patrol. Hopefully they don't kick me out before Akiko finishes.'

He even heard a soft bray of horses, following his eyes toward what appeared to be a stable.

It was such a grand piece of space that Gengyo could not help but shake his head at the wealth demonstrated by the owner.

The architecture inside was as splendid as that of the outer wall, following the same style. Thatched and tiled rooves, with the rest of the buildings being made almost entirely out of wood, aside from a few instances of whitewashed material that patterned in at times.

…

...

Akiko was extremely nervous as she entered the main building, and when her maid, Shibata called out to her she jumped so high that she almost left a hole in the roof.

"Akiko-sama, what are you doing walking on that foot?"

She quickly came towards her, supporting her shoulder.

The young lady was grateful for the assistance, as simply walking over here had left her all but sweating in pain.

"Thank you. I need to see father, but I can't let him know about my foot."

The maid raised an eyebrow. The girl in front of her had refused to see her father for a good time, due to the marriage that she would have to undergo, but now all of a sudden she wanted to see him?

'I bet it has something to do with that man.'

The maid did not entirely trust the peasant she saw carry her mistress back yesterday. It was remarkable that the lady had not caught a cold. But aside from that, she could not fathom how such a man had grown to be so close with her. He was moderately good looking – not that she believed Akiko would trust him simply because of his appearance – but after all, he was a peasant. An existence even below her, a maid.

But alas, she had sworn that she would keep her lady's secret, even from her father, and after spending so many years attending to her they had grown close, so she did not wish to be the cause of her mistress's misery.

Perhaps it was that man that had been the source of her happiness these past days, despite the looming marriage?

'Even if it was… I cannot help but worry.'

"I understand my lady. I will help you to your father's room. Then, I will heat a bath ready for when you have concluded your business."

Akiko smiled.

"Thank you, Kane."

They negotiated with the stairs carefully, sparing Akiko the most amount of pain possible, but making their ascent slower than it might have been.

They paused outside the landholder's room, noticing that the light of the candle flame was passing through the rice paper sliding door.

She took a deep breath, and clenched her fists before speaking.

"Father."

Her voice was loud and clear, and the shadow of the man inside the room flinched across the screen.

"Akiko…?"

Came the surprised voice of a very tired sounding man.

"Yes, father."

She slid the door open, revealing the haggard visage of a once strong man. He was not at all too old, perhaps in his thirties, but he seemed to bear a great weight, as he had the face of a much older man.

She felt a degree of guilt seeing her father as such, for she knew part of it was her fault. She had not made things easy for him with the upcoming marriage.

Shibata bowed upon being revealed to the master by the opened door, before averting her eyes and remaining quiet, letting them know that they were free to speak.

Her father offered her a tired smile, evidently happy to see her.

"What does this pretty daughter of mine require of me?"

Akiko returned the smile, feeling much the same way. Though out of stubbornness she had refused to see him, she had missed him greatly.

"Uhm… I would like you to reward a man that helped me."

The master tapped his fingers on his desk as a degree of surprise circulated within him. This was the first time his daughter had asked such a thing.

"How might he have helped my daughter?"

Akiko put genuine feeling into her acting, drawing on how she felt days before when Gengyo truly had rescued her.

"It got dark quicker today, and I got lost in the forest. It was really scary. But he came out of nowhere and guided me home."

His finger tapping continued as he pondered on the matter. He did feel grateful toward this man for helping his daughter, for there were a good deal of people that would find another use for her, especially considering how beautiful she was.

"A good man. A gold coin would be a fitting reward."

Akiko gasped at her father naming such an expensive reward, but managed to collect herself and shook her head.

"No father. I've already offered him such things… but he has a different request."

He raised an eyebrow, stopping his finger tapping as he waited expectantly.

"And what might that be?"

"He… Wants to meet you."

The tapping resumed, and he stared off into the candle.

"Hoh… Who is this man?"

The master's interest was piqued. Most men would have been blinded by the reward of such a massive amount of coin.

"Miura, father. He's one of your workers."

"A peasant? Interesting…"

He nodded to himself, before pinching out the candle flame and standing up to meet his daughter.

"Very well. Take me to this man."

Akiko winced at the prospect, for it would no doubt reveal her wounded ankle.

"Apologies father, he's waiting in the courtyard. I'm very tired, and Kane was saying how she'd drawn me a bath, so I would like to attend to that."

A brief moment of suspicion flashed over her father's eyes, but he waved his hand and dismissed her anyway.

"As you wish. I'll deal with this on your behalf."

Akiko bowed lightly as her father began to descend the stairs, not moving until he was fully out of sight.

'Miura, eh?'

Her father thought to himself. He recalled such a name, but could not place any faces. He did not pay much interest in the affairs of his workers, believing that they should be given their due amount of privacy.

He crossed the courtyard with swift steps, intent on dealing with this quickly.

He noticed the torch of his guard shining by the face of a young man. The guard's stance was aggressive, and he held the handle of the sword on his belt firmly.

"Don't you realize how bullshit that sounds? You better leave before I start getting unfriendly."

"Leave it!"

Came the master's voice from across the courtyard as he marched closer.

The guard recognized it immediately, and bowed at his waist, his boiled leather armour groaning as he did so.

"My lord!"

He nodded at his guard, dismissing him.

The soldier was well trained, and stood up quickly, marching away with even measured steps, before stopping about twenty paces away, should his lord require his assistance.

Gengyo was calm when facing this grand landholder, and bowed similarly at the waist.

"Rise. Miura, I presume?"

Gengyo stood up slowly, and answered with as much respect as he could manage.

"Yes my lord."

"Niwa-san is fine. Thank you for looking out for my daughter."

The young man's shoulder twitched slightly at that choice of words.

'That's more true than you imagine.'

"I merely did my duty as a servant of the Niwa household."

The master waved his hand impatiently, dismissing the formalities.

"What is it that you ask of me?"

He could not help but smile at the directness of Niwa's question, as he was a person who could also appreciate bluntness that was not beautified by meaningless words.

His reaction surprised the master, as not many dared to smile in his presence.

"As you say Niwa-san, I have a request of you. The honour of my household has recently been tarnished due to accusations from a man the village over."

Niwa frowned, not liking the direction this was headed in.

"You want me to restore the honour of your household? How? Kill the man? Your request is much too bold, peasant. There is no way I would sully the honour of my house, by killing the worker of another samurai just to restore your own."

Gengyo shook his head.

"You misunderstand me, honourable Niwa-san. I do not ask for you to take on that role."

His frown deepened, annoyed by Gengyo's indirectness.

"What is it then? Spit it out."

"Tomorrow, I will arrange a fight. The loser of the fight with be branded a liar. I wish for you to stand judge for this fight, so that the conditions of it will not be breached, and winning will have meaning."

He stroked the short beard that decorated only his chin, and pondered the peasant's words.

"Hoh… That's a good way of settling this. By the way, what village might the opponent be from?"

"Tobishima."

His eyes flickered with a certain light upon hearing the name of the village, and his fist clenched, before a smile began to decorate his face.

"Good… Very good. Young Miura-kun, I will oversee this fight of yours. Schedule it for sundown, and I will be there. The venue shall be the centre of town. I will organise an arena."

Gengyo did not quite understand his suddenly positive reaction, but nor did he care. He bowed deeply.

"Thank you very much, Niwa-san."

"Good. With this my debt to you is repaid. Off you go."

His words were blunt, and most would take offence at them, but such was his right as a man of a higher social class. But to Gengyo, it made matters easier. He nodded, and began to take his leave.

Just as he pushed open the gate, he was stopped by the shout of the master.

"Young man! You'd better win."

Gengyo acknowledged his words with another nod, and disappeared from the compound.

He was rather pleased with his day's work, and felt that his family would enjoy the fruits of his labour. He felt grateful toward Akiko, for making it happen. Though she had owed him a favour, he still could not help but think that he now owed her.

It seemed as though he would not be able to fulfil his promise to take her to the lake tomorrow, but he reasoned that she would understand as her father would most likely tell her the results of their conversation.

Chapter 19: Due Preparations

"Hahah, I'm looking forward to this."

Fuku was still worried about the whole arrangement, and looked rather uneasy as she served the family their morning rice.

"I am as well."

Gengyo shared the opinion of his father. With the events of last night, he now had a good deal of confidence about the whole affair.

Masaatsu's thoughts were on the fight itself.

"How are your movements, father?"

"I'm good son. Did some stretches this morning, and now I'm feeling fluid."

He threw a few practise punches in the air to illustrate his point.

Though he still looked to be a mess, with his face covered in his old wounds, they could only place their trust in his words.

Rin did not care much for the fight itself, but was more looking forward for the drama to end. She had not been able to talk to her friends since it had begun, as their parents had told them to stay away, and she was excited at the prospect of spending time with them once more.

"Please be careful dear."

Fuku was part of the reason Morohira had stopped fighting in the first place. He had promised her that he would no longer fight, after she cried for hours each time he sustained an injury.

"Haha, don't worry about it, dear. This will be a piece of cake."

He was itching to fight once more. He had a natural aggression present in him that he needed to vent, and so looking back, it was possibly a bad idea to make him stop fighting. The drinking was likely a by-product of those unreleased stresses.

Though, of course, this was simply Gengyo's analysis based on his father's behaviour – he did not know what was truly going on in his father's mind.

But still, he spoke, and voiced his want.

"Father, if this goes well, I want you to make a promise."

His son was dead serious, but Morohira was in far too good a mood, causing him to take Gengyo lightly.

"Sure, sure, name anything."

"I want you to stop drinking."

The old man's smile faded at that, and he put his chopsticks down quietly.

Rin looked back from her brother to her father anxiously.

"Look son… I know I'm bad with the drink, but… I've got nothing else, you know?"

His boy nodded, having already thought of that.

"I know father. What do you prefer, drinking or fighting?"

He frowned at the question, but paid it due consideration, giving an honest response.

"Well, fighting. Definitely fighting."

"If you could take up fighting again, would you stop drinking?"

Morohira turned to Fuku, who was anxiously watching over the exchange.

"If… If you promise not to hurt yourself too much, I would prefer that you fight rather than drink."

Fuku had to suffer her husband's drunken behaviour for years now, and though he had never actually hit her, he did leave her painfully frightened at times.

Guilt covered Morohira's face as he realized the true meaning of those words. It meant that he had caused her life such misery over the past years with his drunken antics, that she would rather suffer the worry of his injury, than deal with his drunkenness anymore.

He put a hand round her shoulders, and stroked her hair before bringing her in close and kissing her atop the head.

His eyes were filled with affection, and Fuku had a shy smile on her face, as she sank into her lovers embrace.

Rin was beaming, pleased to see a rare display of affection between her parents, as their relationship had become strained as of late.

Masaatsu's usual stern look had indeed also softened.

Gazing down into his wife's eyes, Morohira made his decision.

"Alright son. I'll do it. I'll take up my fists once more, and throw out the depraved me that leaned on the bottle."

His eyes teared slightly as he made that declaration.

"I'm sorry Fuku. I'm so sorry – for everything. All you've had to put up with. My dear, beautiful wife, I will worry you no longer. I will hold you in my arms and support you for the rest of our days."

Gengyo smiled lightly, satisfied.

Whilst he did not entirely believe that Morohira could fulfil all the promises he had made, it was still a step in a better direction, and one that lead toward his dream of a peaceful family life.

…

…

As the three siblings arrived to work that morning, Gengyo immediately approached Baba, speaking quietly.

"Good morning, Baba-san."

Baba raised an eyebrow. It was not uncommon for him and Gengyo to exchange morning greetings, but he could sense a different intent in the boy's words today, and his behaviour and actions all confirmed it.

"Morning, lad. Is there something you need?"

The young man was pleased that his overseer with quick on the uptake, and phrased his proposal as politely as he could.

"This morning, just before we start the day's work, may I make an announcement whilst everyone is gathered?"

One raised eyebrow turned into two, as Baba's face contorted with surprise.

"Hoh… That's a rather unusual request young Miura. I'm assuming it's related to the lost honour of your family..?"

"That's right."

"Permitted."

It was Gengyo's turn to be surprised. He had not expected the old man to accept so quickly.

"What..? Oh, I mean, thank you very much Baba-san."

Gengyo bowed at the waist in thanks toward Baba-san, and as he did so he felt a certain familiarity with action. He felt as though in recent days he had been bowing rather a lot.

Baba nodded, and Gengyo judged the conversation over and started to return to his siblings.

"Ah, but if this is something silly, you'll have to face certain punishments."

Came the ominous parting comment.

He stiffened slightly, a little put off by the threat.

'Still, it depends on what you call silly, right? Surely my arrangement shouldn't fall into that category?'

When he neared, Masaatsu called out.

"Success?"

"I think so…"

"Aren't you nervous about speaking in front of so many people, Nii-san?"

He shrugged. The actual speech itself was not something he cared about. He was merely interested in the results. After spending a good portion of his life doing speeches for newly released products, he'd basically killed any fear he had of public speaking.

"Should be fine."

Rin looked doubtful as she empathised in her head with his position.

'If it was me, I'd be so embarrassed…'

A few more minutes passed, and almost all the workers had arrived.

Baba drew everyone's attention with a few short claps.

"Good morning everyone. Before we get into the shift, one of our workers has requested your attention. Miura-kun, if you would."

He gestured toward the boy, who received his signal with a nod, and stood up grace, moving swiftly toward Baba-san's side, maintaining a body language that was the very epitome of confidence.

"As you all know, my father has recently been accused of cheating."

His voice was clear, and loud, making it audible to all of the many workers present.

His eyes danced over the crowd, and he noticed a few sour looks of people dying to interrupt. But alas, him speaking had been permitted by Baba, and thus in going against him, they would, in turn, be offending Baba.

He spotted a few of his acquaintances, whose faces were filled with friendly interest. Although Aritada's face was tenser than you might expect, seemingly feeling the anxiety in Miura's place.

Rin and Masaatsu were willing him on so strongly that their emotions were transmitted through their faces. Their shining eyes told him all he needed to know.

"This, I assure you is false."

He paused once more, knowing the primary thought in people's heads would be: 'what of the proof?'

"Now, it is easy to sully someone's name without grounds, but much more difficult to stand and defend such accusations."

The crowd seemed to be following, but still, the same harshness remained in the air.

"That is why, my father, Miura Morohira, challenges the accuser, Kyougoku Suemochi, of Tobishima village, to a duel."

Whispers filled the air as the crowd grew more unsettled, dying to shout something out.

"Now, we all know that my father is a skilled fighter, so that it would be unfair on Kyougoku-san. Therefore, my father will be unarmed, and Kyougoku-san will be allowed any weapon that does not hold metal."

The crowd grew more restless, and he left them like that for a time.

He watched them whisper to one another, noticing a few flickerings of approval. Even Kyougoku's underlings seemed supportive of the duel.

After all, the odds were very much in Kyougoku's favour, were they not?

"Now, some of you here know Kyougoku-san. Please inform him of the fight. Tell him to go to the market place, where he will find a ring made and overseen by the honourable Niwa-sama himself."

At that, a few over-enthusiastic individuals could not contain themselves, despite knowing the consequences.

"How the fuck's he done that!?"

"Fuck this is gonna be good!"

"Fucking Miura is going to be beaten up in front of the master himself, what an honour!"

That last remark provoked a good deal of laughter, but Gengyo waited patiently for it to pass before resuming.

"The loser of the fight will be branded as a liar. The winner will have all charges cleared, and be known to be the one who speaks the truth. Niwa-sama will make sure this conclusion is carried out, regardless of the result."

Not much attention was paid to this, as everyone had assumed it from the start, but still, it needed to be said even if it was a simple formality.

"Then, that will be all. The fight will be held at sundown today. I hope to see you all there."

With that, his speech concluded, and he nodded toward Baba in thanks.

Baba resumed control of the situation as Gengyo headed back to his siblings, noticing Kushizu laughing loudly out of the corner of his eye.

'I hope you found that entertaining, old man.'

Masaatsu and Rin were beaming with pride, sticking their chests out as though they had already regained their honour – and more besides.

"Little brother that was brilliantly done."

His formal praise caused a smile to creep out onto Gengyo's lips, which only widened after Rin joined in.

"Yup, yup! You were so confident, Nii-san! I'm really proud. Really, really proud! You looked so cool, and everyone listened to you… all those girls in the village are going to be trying to steal my Nii-san now... got to work hard!"

Gengyo awkwardly half-smiled at the last part. Whilst he certainly wouldn't turn away the chance at meeting a woman, she would have to be of a special character if his image of a peaceful family life were to be manifest.

"I'm glad you approve."

"By the way, Tadakata, that part – about the master being present – is that true?"

'Ah, I forgot to tell them about that.'

"Yeah, I met with him last night. He'll see to it for us."

"Hah? You met with him? Just like that?"

"Yup. He's a kind man. I paid him a visit and announced my plight, and he was only too happy to lend a hand."

Gengyo felt a little bad at lying to his brother who had nothing but good intentions, but he felt that if he were to reveal too much, and his relationship with Akiko got out, there would be no end of trouble involved.

Masaatsu seemed to harbour some suspicions, but did not voice them. Instead, he put his hand on his brother's shoulder, and offered his commendations.

Chapter 20: Fight Day

The meal before the fight was filled with excitement – mainly Morohira's.

"This is going to be so fucking good. I can't wait to decorate that bastard's skull with a few hundred bruises."

"Now, now, dear, you have to make sure to eat all your food first. You can't fight on an empty stomach."

A smiling Fuku gently chastised her husband who followed her orders instructions as though he were her child.

Gengyo was enjoying his meal as well, envisioning the success of his plan. He only hoped that his father was as skilled as he had boasted, otherwise, all this planning would have been for nought.

Rin kept stealing rice from Gengyo's bowl, though her bowl was still full.

When asked what she was doing, a rather odd "it tastes better like this" came in reply. At which he could only shake his head and deal with it. Little sisters were meant to be a bit of a pain at times, were they not?

…

…

The family passed many people on their road into the village, and the reactions to their presence were varied.

"Good luck Miura-san! Make the village proud!"

Is what the majority called out, hoping to secure favour should the fight go well.

Others simply remained silent, not wanting to offend either side.

Though it was not like any kind of reaction could have dampened Morohira's spirit. He marched in front, urging his family onwards.

"Come on you lot, we're going to be late!"

Fuku was carrying a basket with a few small jars of water in, and some rice balls. She was going all out to make sure that her husband had everything he needed in order to fight to the best of his ability.

The children had been made to wash, and put on clean clothes so that they would be at their best when presented to the villagers.

Gengyo had gazed at his cleaned-up sister with a degree of curiosity, comparing her appearance to Akiko.

He realized that she was a good deal smaller than Akiko, and with her darker hair, but her beauty had a different sort of charm to it. Akiko was without a doubt a beautiful lady, whereas Rin was more a wild type. She was cute at times, but was tomboyish in her mannerisms.

'The husband that gets Rin will have an exciting life.'

Though exciting was an umbrella word, for she could quite as easily turn his life upside down as she could lead him on all sorts of adventures.

…

…

When they arrived at the market place, it was already bustling with a couple of hundred villagers, and was thusly rather packed.

Master Niwa had made good on his promise, and a wooden arena - standing about half a metre off the ground – had been erected. It was around the size of your average boxing ring, and square-shaped similarly.

There were two large wooden seats elevated alongside the arena, with one being occupied by the master.

Next to him, he spied a familiar swan, once more dressed in a white yukata, though this time it was a pure white, without an artist's drawings adorning it.

Her brown hair was tied up, with a hairpin through it, and it shone in the flickering torchlight, telling tales of the effort put in by her maids beforehand.

She was undoubtedly beautiful, and he could hear the young men in the village talking about her as he passed.

On that front, he could not help but feel a little privileged, for he knew who the swan was behind the feathers.

They were recognised immediately by the crowd.

"Oi! It's Miura!"

"Finally!"

The crowd parted to allow them through. Noticing this, the master glanced over.

"Oh, young Miura, welcome! Is this your family then?"

He called over, and Gengyo walked closer before answering.

"Yes, Niwa-san. This is my father, Morohira, my mother, Fuku, my older brother Masaatsu, and my little sister, Rin."

"Very good. Come on up, then, and we'll get this fight underway."

He gestured toward a wooden bench that had been positioned beside the two chairs. It could be considered a great honour, for the master was putting them on the same level as him.

"Thank you, Niwa-san."

Gengyo took the lead, and ascended the stairs that lead to the arena.

He bowed his head lightly in greeting to Akiko as he did so, for the sake of politeness.

"Good evening lady Niwa. I hope you are well?"

She smiled lightly, feeling a rush of energy from the secret they shared as she pretended otherwise.

"Good evening, Miura-kun. I am, thanks to you."

Her father, knowing a 'truth' behind this exchange maintained his smile, but the same could not be said for Gengyo's family.

They stared at him curiously, wondering what kind of relationship he held with the highly esteemed master's young daughter.

Rin's gaze contained a hint of aggression as she offered the young lady a smile.

'This stupid noble trying to seduce my Nii-san…'

The rest of the family offered their respects to the master, and then it came Morohira's turn.

Niwa glanced at the man calculatedly, and could not help but feel a stab of disappointment.

'The man who we've pinned our hopes of winning on is already covered in bruises?'

"Good to meet you Miura-kun. Your son has told me much about you. You're a brave man to take on your opponent under such conditions."

Morohira scratched the back of his head embarrassedly as he received praise from the master.

"I will do my best to give you an entertaining fight, lord."

The master nodded, no longer expecting much from him.

Gengyo glanced around the crowd, searching for someone.

"Niwa-san, has Kyougoku arrived yet?"

"He has. He arrived about 15 minutes ago, but he's eating it seems."

The conversation ground to a halt and an awkward silence reigned. The rest of the family felt too uncomfortable in the presence of the master to speak, whilst Gengyo sat in thought.

Niwa Nakatane felt none of that tension however, only acute boredom. His fingers tapped against the arm of the chair – as was his habit – and he willed the events to move faster. It had been a while since he had last journeyed out, due to some of the recent affairs he had to attend with, and whilst he was here he was determined to release as much of his pent up stress as he could.

He rekindled the conversation with the youth beside him, searching for some way to combat his boredom.

"Young Miura, you work in my fields, correct?"

"Indeed, Niwa-san."

"How do you find it?"

"It is good, honest work, and the overseer – Baba-san – is fair and honest."

Nakatane nodded. It was a neutral response, but what else could the boy have said? No one is openly going to complain about their job to the employer, especially when their financial situation is as dire as that of a peasant.

He led the topic of conversation elsewhere, trying to probe the character of the boy who had orchestrated this entire occasion.

"War is on the horizon."

"It does seem that way."

Another neutral response. There was neither fear nor delight upon his face. It was as though he viewed it to be trivial.

Of course, for Gengyo, it was quite the opposite. He viewed it more as a chore, and a step in the wrong direction.

"It should be a good opportunity for us. The Oda are weak. Are you not excited at the prospect of getting some of the spoils? It might be a chance for you to earn some good coin."

Gengyo turned and glanced at Nakatane in the eye. There were so many things in that statement that he disagreed with that he was having trouble where to start.

"I do not care for coin."

'Empty words. What man, especially a man who is not of coin, does not want more of it?'

"Nor do I think it is wise to look down on the Oda. Their Daiymo is young and untested, and most see that as our assurance in victory. But does that not also mean that we do not know what he is capable of? There is a good chance that the boy is a genius, and he will lead his troops to victory."

His fingers ceased their tapping, and he stared back at the youth in surprise. He did not think that he would have this much of an opinion on military matters.

"…There are many that would call you a coward for such a comment."

Gengyo scoffed.

"Let them. I will be fighting all the same. But it is a foolish man who rushes recklessly into battle, even when he holds the advantage."

"You don't think we can defeat the Oda?"

"Oh, without a doubt we are capable of it. But the thing everyone seems to be overlooking, is that the same is true for them."

Nakatane leaned back in his chair, and looked upwards.

'To think I would be discussing military philosophy with a peasant…'

Despite feeling that dull sense of absurdity, he saw the wisdom in the words that were spoken. He was not a warmongering man, though in his youth he had achieved personal commendation by the Daimyo for his exploits on the battlefield.

Gengyo spotted a figure walking through the crowd towards them.

"It appears the opposition has arrived."

"Hoo! You're right! Let's get going then."

Morohira had noticed too, and had stood up and begun stretching his arms out, before rolling his neck.

Kyougoku climbed the platform, with a wooden bokken in the belt of his stylish kimono. He was dressed rather well for a peasant.

He stood oddly tall for a Japanese man, with a height that was at least above six foot. He was around a head taller than Morohira, and had a good deal more muscle mass besides, with a shiny bald head.

From appearances alone – with Morohira covered in bruises, and Kyougoku looking like a medieval body builder – the fight was a done deal.

"Kyougoku, you bastard! Do you know what I've had to put up with because of the lies you spread about me?"

Morohira was fired up, shouting across the arena with a vein bulging on his neck.

Kyougoku drew his wooden sword, resting it upon his shoulder before twisting his face arrogantly.

"Hah? Lies? But you're Miura the cheat. Everyone knows that."

The crowd were shouting all sorts of vulgarities as well, though they all came together to form a combined mass of incomprehensiveness.

Simply from his actions and the suffocating arrogance that he portrayed, even Gengyo felt the urge to punch him.

"Your father can beat him, right?"

Nakatane was seething as though it was his honour that had been challenged. It seemed that the arrogant brute had gotten under his skin too.

"I hope so."

"You fucking bastard! I'm going to beat you so much worse than you beat me. I'll make you wish that you had killed me back then."

"Ha? But I did beat you, didn't I? What makes you think you can beat me now?"

These words were for the crowd. This man was an entertainer, and one that seemed to be confident in his victory.

Even Gengyo was unsure at this point. His father had not exactly proved to be a reliable man in the short time that he had known him.

He could only hope that his words held some amount of truth.

'I've done all I can old man… The rest is up to you.'

Chapter 21: The Slaughter Begins

Morohira's rage peaked.

"Bastard!"

He breathed, as he ran forward, commencing the fight.

He aimed low on Kyougoku, intending to use his shoulder and tackle him to the ground.

Alas, he was not given the chance. The wooden sword had a far superior reach, so the big man simply stepped back and aimed a strike toward the bent-over Morohira's head.

It was a tense moment for the onlookers, for such a strike, from their standpoint, seemed to be unavoidable. Rin had one eye closed in anticipation, whilst Gengyo's eyebrows were deeply furrowed.

THWACK

Two raised arms blocked the downward strike, followed by an expression of intense pain.

Having received such a strike, the man was forced to retreat back, rubbing his injured forearms.

"Kakaka, why don't you just give it up, Miura-kun? You know you can't beat me. Not like this."

Morohira didn't reply. His eyes were intense and focused.

Gengyo was sitting there in shock at the strength of his father's bones. Rightly such a strike would have crushed the forearms of a lesser man, but now he already had his fists thrown back up into the air, ready to attack his opponent?

'This doesn't look good though, old man. Your opponent is skilled in the sword – he's not going to let you get close.'

It seemed his father was thinking the same thing, as he walked closer to Kyougoku, but stayed out of range of his sword.

His opposition waited patiently, with caution, put off by the look of confidence in his enemies' eyes.

Morohira began to bounce from his left foot to his right, like a boxer might, intending to make his movements harder to predict.

He circled around the ring, waiting for his moment. He hounded the unsuspecting Kyougoku until he was all but trapped in the corner.

And then, using the wooden fencing as a springboard, he aimed a kick toward the taller man's head.

THWACK

A swift stroke of the sword toward his outstretched thigh, and he was cut out of the air, hitting the wooden surface below with a great force.

He barely managed to roll away before the tip of the sword hit the position he was previously at.

Watching him struggle to his feet, and step forward with a slight limp, a smile began to distort Kyougoku's loathsome face.

He took the opportunity to speak to the crowd once more.

"You see this? This is the man that challenged me to this fight, and see how it ends? The man's a liar and a cheat!"

Mainly cheers greeted his words, though there were a few bitter faces in the crowd, seemingly more disgruntled at the lack of a real, enjoyable fight, than the loss of Morohira.

Nakatane also seemed to be losing interest. He'd grown rather fond of the idea of a man from his village winning, for reasons that those around him did not have a grasp of, but now such a thing was out of his reach.

Gengyo, Rin, and Fuku were tense all over their bodies, alarmed by the extremely one-sided fight in front of them.

But in contrast, Masaatsu appeared to be very relaxed.

The reason for his calm demeanour was completely unknown to Gengyo, for all he could see in front of him was a one-sided slaughter.

The slowed Morohira was chased around the ring by a relentless Kyougoku who was utilising his range to its fullest, hitting his enemy with an endless stream of jabs and slashes.

Such strikes – though light at first – were taking its toll on the unarmed fighter, and though he tried to counter, none of his limbs were long enough to even get close to the range provided by the sword.

And thus he was hounded, his ribs being played by the point of the sword as though they were some grisly musical instrument, and his face contorted fittingly with the pain.

The two women could barely watch the fight at this point, and even Akiko, who had no connection to either of the men in front of her – except through Gengyo – was averting her eyes, displeased with the now rather horrific spectacle in front of her.

A step forward, arms stretched to their fullest, sword extended as far as it might, and Morohira was forced against the wooden fence that bordered the ring, letting out a roar of pain as his rib broke.

The same jab movement was repeated, but this time using his palm, the wounded man managed to deflect it away from his chest – though it struck his arm instead.

This was no longer a fight. It was a one-sided slaughter.

Gengyo began to have second thoughts about the whole thing.

'They… Assured me that he would be able to take on Kyougoku, even if he had a sword. This wasn't meant to be a fight at all – the sword was simply a means to bait him here. But this? This isn't how it was meant to go.'

'Is this my fault, for believing in the boasting of a man? Is it not rare to find a person that can accurately evaluate his own ability? Perhaps… Perhaps this will be my first defeat since starting this new life.'

The thought of losing filled him with a sense of disgust. And though he was not in the arena, he very much felt a part of this fight. As did the rest of his family. Their combined will, begging for Morohira to win was likely the only thing that kept him going. For he was now decorated in many bruises, and though his face had escaped most of the damage, the skin under his clothing would not boast a pretty sight.

He was stumbling around the ring as though drunk now, and Kyougoku chased him wherever he went, laughing maniacally.

Such a scene had continued for almost ten minutes, and even the crowd were growing disgusted at the muscle-heads sadistic actions.

"Finish it!"

They cried.

"Finish it! Put the dog down!"

And being the entertainer that he was, Kyougoku could not ignore such shouts, and he moved to secure his final blow.

He performed his usual jab, anticipating the palm of Morohira that moved to defend itself. Targeting his outstretched arm, he struck downwards, forcing it out of the way. He struck then twisted his hips and aimed a strike to the man's left-hand side, before bringing his sword down atop of Morohira's head as the man bent down in agony.

A hollow ringing noise echoed around the arena, like two blocks of wood colliding.

Morohira collapsed to the floor as though someone had relinquished the control of his body.

A scream rang out – Fuku's – she called her husband's name, and collapsed to her knees as tears began to decorate her face.

Rin moved forward to comfort her, though she was in a similar state.

Masaatsu's face caved in, as though someone had just destroyed every single belief that he had held.

Gengyo stared forward, shocked. He realized something, then. Despite his father getting slaughtered in the fight, and despite telling himself that he anticipated his loss, he still had held onto a belief, somewhere in his heart.

But now that man, whom their family had placed their hopes upon, was now lying in the centre of the ring, unmoving, blood pooling onto the wooden surface around his head.

Kyougoku moved forward, his face a mask of savagery. With his sword still drawn and ready, it was obvious what he intended to do.

The crowd were also a maniacal mess, but their noise was not heard by Gengyo. He was focused entirely on what was going on in front of him.

He moved up from his seat, the muscles of his legs tensing before propelling him forward toward the arena. His mouth was open, intent on releasing a shout.

The demon in front of him grew closer, already starting his swing.

It was only then that Gengyo realised that he was too late, too slow, and he hurried himself forward.

But as he made it to the top rung of the fence post, the enemy was already upon his father, sword raised, ready to deliver his final sentence.

And then, his eyes shot open.

Kyougoku realised his error, and hastened to step back.

But his actions were too late. The man on the floor had already issued a sweeping kick toward his legs.

His feet were taken out from under him, and he landed heavily.

A beast then launched itself upon him – that was not how a man was meant to move. He sent a fist toward his torturers face, allowing him to see the stars that he had felt for a good while.

He then performed another action that would dumbfound the already chilled onlookers, who had condemned him as dead.

He stood up, snapped the sword over his knee, discarded the pieces and then he waited.

He slicked his hair back with the blood that decorated his skull, and then he bared a fearsome smile whilst issuing his death sentence.

"Come on then, let's fight."

Gengyo was still paused, one leg atop the fence, frozen. Not once in his life had he witnessed such a variable, something that was so impossibly inhuman that one could never factor it in, nor even claim it existed.

He had discovered, in his father, the power of humanities hidden beast. His little shadow. That overwhelming might of strength that he could bring forth when he put everything on the line.

The man in front of him was not simply his father, it was a man possessed by such a shadow.

The area around them was encapsulated in silence, as all watched on, jaws agape.

A terrified brute of a man, made his way to his feet, raising his fists, trying to convince his broken mind that such a thing was not possible, that the man in front of him was too beaten, too broken, to put up any fight.

Morohira, for his part, displayed no such a motion. His bloodied face was intense and focused. He raised his fists upwards, forcing a new kind of momentum into his body. His shoulders shifted the left, and to the right, as he walked across the arena with all the authority of a king.

Storming up to the castle of Kyougoku, he delivered him a forceful front kick that sent the man crashing into the hard surrounding fences.

Just that one move was enough to defeat him, and he collapsed to the ground, winded and struggling to breathe, his eyes a mask of terror.

"Up."

Morohira would not allow him off that easy, and he waited patiently for the man in front of him to come to his feet. He even walked back toward the opposite side of the ring.

They met once more in the middle, and he still moved with his same indomitable aura, as though he was controlling the very air around them.

A lightning-fast right hand easily made its way past Kyougoku's guard, sending him reeling backwards. But the combination was by no means done, as a left hand made his face symmetrical once more, before Morohira used the momentum of the punch to twist his body around.

Before anyone could even tell how he had done it, he had his arms firmly planted around Kyougoku's waist. His opponent sensed danger, and struggled with all his might, but it was far too late for that. Morohira lowered his hips, before exploding upwards, forcing this beast of a man over his shoulder – sending him sailing through the air.

It was an astonishing feat, but they were not given time to marvel, as he had already pounced upon his downed opponent, straddling him.

Fist after fist reigned down.

One

Two

Three

…

Thirty

He did not stop, even when the man had ceased to move. He wished to decorate his face the same way his had been distorted. But he was not a maniacal man – he placed himself above his opponent, and with each strike he controlled the force, ensuring that he would not be killed.

He still had to live out his days as a humiliated mess – no one could save him from that fate.

Chapter 22: Aftermath

He landed one final punch, shook his bloody fist, and stood up on shaky legs.

The toll the fight had taken on him had not been light, and it was no exaggeration to say that he'd used everything he had.

The crowd were still in an awed silence at this point, glancing from the bloody body of Kyougoku, up at the mangled mess of cuts and bruises that was Morohira.

Though he was unsteady on his feet, and exhausted beyond belief, he was still forcing his body to perform an action, and slowly his arm travelled upwards.

It reached the peak, and a clenched fist was shown, signifying his victory.

It was only then that the people remembered how to utilise their voices, and cheers erupted from all sides.

Even those that did not support him at first cheered for him. They were awed by the willpower demonstrated by a man that was at an overwhelming disadvantage, and had sustained injuries that most of them could not bear, and still gone on to win the fight.

"GOOD FIGHT MIURA-SAN!"

They called.

A small smile lit up Morohira's lips, as he received the approval of his people.

He then began to grow faint, and shaky, truly having used all he had.

But as he was about to fall to the ground, he felt an arm move to support him.

He turned to steal a glance, and noticed Gengyo with a complicated look on his face.

He forced some words out of his lips, to try and still the concern that he knew his son felt.

"I won son… We won."

Seeing the state of his father, so brutalised from the fight, yet still caring about his family first and foremost, his eyes began to water, and before he knew what he was doing he had the old man embraced in a tight hug.

"I'm proud dad… Really proud. You've saved our family."

Caught off guard by his son's embrace, he still found himself smiling moments later. The familial bond that they felt, strengthened only by overcoming an adversity together, was a moving feeling, and one that would make even the coldest of men light up with a smile.

Fuku and the rest of the family were busy stumbling their way into the ring, as much of a mess – if not more – as Gengyo had ended up being.

He stepped away from his father, satisfied, a grin still firmly planted upon his face, and his place was immediately taken by an emotional Fuku.

Her face was awash with tears that continued to flow, yet a smile was still struggling to make its way through. She flung herself toward Morohira, forgetting his weakened state as she kissed him again and again, allowing his spouse to get an understanding of the great relief that she felt.

Masaatsu and Rin made their way to Gengyo's side, watching on the scene with gentle smiles.

All the complicated emotions that were passing through their hearts made them feel older than they were.

Rin leaned her head onto Gengyo's chest, using his sleeve to dry her tear-stained face, before hugging his arm tightly.

He gently stroked her head, fully understanding what she was feeling right now, for though he was much older than she, it was a set of emotions new to him, and ones that he felt immense gratitude for being able to experience.

Masaatsu hand patted Gengyo's shoulder a couple of times, and they shared a knowing look. He appeared to be in a much better state than he had been earlier, as his belief in his father had proved itself not to be ungrounded, and despite the odds, his old man had triumphed. There was no experience in the world that could bring a young man greater pride.

The cheers of the crowd, a sniffling Rin, and an energetic Fuku. Though not what Bach might have thought to include in one of his Concertos, it was certainly a symphony of sound that seemed like perfection to all present.

Nakatane watched over the scene with satisfaction. These were his people, and this was his village. They had triumphed over the unrest caused by a member of the neighbouring village, and had once more come together as they should.

Akiko felt herself becoming emotional as she observed the youthful vigour with which Fuku and Morohira held each other, and she wondered whether such a scene would ever exist for her.

Her father stood up a moment later, addressing the crowd, and feeling a sense of satisfaction in the words that he spoke.

"Hear me, people of Toyone. This man before us is Miura Morohira."

A round of cheers greeted his words, as the crowd called the name of the victor.

"In the sight of all those present, he has triumphed in his duel over Kyougoku Suemochi."

Another set of cheers sprang to life, as the crowd cursed Kyougoku, and his lack of honour during the duel.

Gengyo could not help but shake his head at the fickle nature of the masses.

"Not only that, he did it when the odds were entirely stacked against him!"

The cheers rose once more, but he continued to speak over them.

"And as per the conditions of the duel, Miura-kun is hereby cleared of all charges, and the brute Kyougoku is hereby exposed to be a liar!"

The crowd grew ever more hateful toward the downed Kyougoku, some reaching out toward him.

"Scumbag! Lying about shit like that!"

Though it may be an unseemly change of attitude to you, to the people of that time the duel was a sacred rite. If one were to fight for an idea, and be victorious, it would only be the case if the gods willed it to be so.

Four of Kyougoku's underlings had to cut into the ring, and carry their unconscious ally away through the crowd. The people were dying to litter his body with a fresh batch of bruises, but Nakatane made sure that the men were allowed a path through the crowd, for it was the honourable thing to do.

With that, he announced the conclusion of that night's event, along with something extra.

"As thanks to Miura-kun for a splendid fight, my own personal medical team will be tending to him."

A surprised noise was uttered by the crowd, before they began to nod. It was a great honour, but it was likely the most appropriate thing to do.

He then began to disperse the people, before walking toward Morohira – who was currently being looked after by Fuku – to offer his compliments.

"You fought bravely Miura-kun. Very bravely indeed. It is rare to see a man go to such lengths for the sake of victory."

Morohira listened politely, and did his best to respond despite the pain it brought.

"Thank you… very much… lord."

Nakatane nodded his understanding, as he realized how painful it must be for him to talk.

"Your style of fighting is remarkable indeed… That final display, after you disarmed him? Splendid, truly splendid."

The wounded man nodded his appreciation with a slight smile and a nod, for that was all he could manage.

Of course, the master was not going to take offence at such a gesture.

"You're likely one of the best unarmed fighters in all of Mikawa. It'll be an honour to have you serve under me when we begin our invasion on the Oda."

A weak "yes sir," was said in response.

Then, the master turned to his sons, evaluating them once more in turn, wondering if they held any of the skill that their father had.

He spoke to Masaatsu first, noticing his height and broad shoulders, and nodded to himself at the intensity and firmness of his gaze and stature.

"You seem to be a strong lad. Do you hold any of the skill that your father has?"

Masaatsu bowed lightly, receiving the lord's question.

"My father has taught me a few things, but as of yet I remain untested, so I dare not say."

He once more found himself nodding inwardly at the humbleness of the boy's response. He had a grace unbefitting of a peasant.

He glanced briefly a Rin, making a remark in his head on her beauty, before turning to Gengyo.

He paused a little, not entirely sure of what to say.

"Well, I suppose this turned out as you expected, eh?"

"As I hoped it would, perhaps. Not exactly as I expected. I realized today that it is just as foolish to attempt to predict too much as it is not to predict anything at all."

An eyebrow was raised in response to those words that contained a degree of profundity that was unbefitting of one so young.

"You have wisdom beyond your year's child. This, and how you've spoken to me earlier. I cannot help but wonder, did you perhaps have a teacher? Someone who taught you in the ways of philosophy?"

Gengyo wondered quite how to reply to that. To the people that he respected, he made a point to be as honest as possible. The true answer would be, yes, he had teachers as a child. But none had taught him in the ways of philosophy or the like.

"No, I'm afraid not. I give my thanks for your high appraisal of me – though I fear I might be undeserving."

Nakatane laughed at that. He'd handled the compliment with a good degree of grace, though it was quite different to that of his brother. He patted his shoulder good-naturedly, before suggesting that it was perhaps time that they retired for the evening.

The crowd had already begun to disperse, and soon they began to follow. Akiko, Nakatane and their guard mounted their horses and rode back toward the mansion – though of course not before leaving their farewells.

Before she left, Akiko had managed to slip a whisper into Gengyo's ear as she passed, reminding him of their promise.

Gengyo had looked her in the eye and nodded seriously. He owed her a great debt, and he would make sure to repay it.

Rin had noticed such an exchange and frowned, wondering what kind of relationship her brother held with a noble's daughter.

The two boys supported their father – all but carrying him – back to their home, and half an hour later, a team of three medical specialists came to review his injuries.

Holding a certain curiosity as to how medieval medicine worked, Gengyo opted to remain behind and oversee the medical procedure.

One woman perceived this as a slight, and mentioned as much.

"Do you really think the Lord would want us to harm your father? There's no need for you to stay and protect him."

In response, she had been met with a shaken head.

"No, I'm merely curious as to how a doctor operates."

She had raised an eyebrow at that, seemingly still not believing him, but had chosen to remain silent, merely getting on with her task.

A few stitches were required in places, and all sorts of injuries were bandaged. Care was taken not to wrap anything around Morohira's chest, to allow his broken rib to heal properly.

And before long they were done, the conclusion marked by a smiling Fuku bringing them a tray of rice balls – which they graciously accepted – to thank them for their hard work.

They headed out soon after, and the family were left alone, gathered in a small room around the bed in which Morohira lay.

Gengyo breathed a sigh of relief, which was soon reciprocated by the other members of the family. They were glad the whole thing was over, and exhausted besides.

Chapter 23: Pleasant

The next day at work was pleasant, as one might expect. The hostilities had ceased, and those that had played an active role in making their lives a misery over the past few days had rather docile – almost worried – looks on their faces.

Though there were a very small group of people that had not held anything against them, despite the allegations.

One of them was, of course, Kushizu, who greeted them warmly as they arrived and took a seat in the eating shelter ahead of the day's work.

"Haha, good show lad! That was a bloody good show!"

He patted Gengyo's shoulder good-naturedly, as though they were closer than they really were. But Gengyo did not shy away from his straightforwardness, on the contrary, he warmed to it.

"I'm glad you approve."

He said neutrally, trying to suppress the grin that was threatening to break free.

"You told me, eh? And it happened as you said."

"I think you're giving me a little too much credit. It's more like it happened how I hoped it would."

Kushizu nodded seriously, before breaking into laughter once more.

"You're having me on eh? Ya don't need to worry about all that humble stuff around me. Free as a bird around me, that's how you can act little man."

Now he really did smile. It seemed Kushizu's evaluation of him was higher than it possibly should be.

Later came a familiar pair, Aritada and Yoritomo.

They stood awkwardly, not knowing quite what to say, until Yoritomo finally spoke up.

"…Sorry for not helping you."

Gengyo instantly shook his head.

"No, you made the right choice. If I'd wanted help, I would have asked. Besides, neither of you owe me anything."

Aritada opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it again, before thinking of something new to say and finally speaking.

It was a rather amusing sight to watch – like a feeding goldfish.

"Still, it was impressive."

"Yes. Father is quite the fighter."

"I don't mean that. The planning. No doubt that was you. You pulled that thing over us, and that was in the heat of the moment. You did the speech yesterday too. It was definitely you."

He strove to prove definitively that Gengyo was the mastermind behind all that had happened, even without having him deny it in the first place.

'Well, against you it wasn't in the heat of the moment, but still, your thinking wasn't completely wrong.'

He patted his friend on the shoulder, who looked anxious to say more, and prove his idea to be right.

"Yup. I did a bit of planning. But it didn't really go as I expected, so in the end, I can't take much credit."

He looked at Gengyo in confusion at that last line, but didn't think to push it, deciding that it was merely him being humble.

Receiving such compliments from people made Gengyo start to feel awkward. It put him in a position he did not want to be in. He would rather talk freely with the people, than have them hold him in awe over something that wasn't entirely true.

And so he moved to execute that.

"How has your sword training being going?"

They turned to share a glance, before Yoritomo spoke first.

"It's been going good, but…"

"I'll come down for a while and have a look the next day off we get."

Having predicted what they were about to say, Gengyo smiled warmly.

A grin broke across their faces too.

"Thanks, Miura-san. We'll see you around then."

…

…

It was later that evening, and Akiko was carrying a small basket whilst she hung from Gengyo's back.

"Aren't you curious as to what's inside?"

He had acknowledged the basket, but not asked about it as Akiko hoped he would.

"Would you like me to?"

But when he was as straightforward as that there was no way she could say yes, least she embarrass herself.

After she remained quiet, he chose to speak once more.

"Its food for the lady, isn't it?"

She pouted slightly, annoyed that he had guessed it straight away, and then she supposed that it was rather obvious – what else would she be carrying? Some foreign musket?

They reached the shoreline of the lake, which was dry and peaceful after the hot weather of the day.

Gengyo found a less rocky part, and began to sit down when Akiko motioned for him to stop, handing him the basket.

He took it, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"What's this?"

"Just open it."

He did as he was bid, and in it he found a thick wool blanket nestled on top.

"Oh."

He folded it into a small square for her to sit on, before moving to place it on the ground, only to be stopped once more.

"Dummy. It's for both of us."

He grinned at the dummy comment that was so rarely directed his way, before opening it wider and sitting down.

"Mhm. It's comfy. Good idea bringing it."

"Right?"

Akiko sat beside him, venturing further into the basket.

"Here."

She presented him with a little wooden box, with a pair of chopsticks nestled on top.

"Ho… A bento, eh? Did you make it yourself?"

She blushed at his ridiculous comment and all that it might imply, before giving a rather huffy "as if," in response.

He had already attacked a slice of grilled salmon, and was relishing the flavour. He had not tasted something so full of life in a while.

"Mmm. It's good. Do you eat this all the time?"

Akiko was more lady like in her approach, delicately slicing small, mouth-sized pieces with her chopsticks before spooning them toward her mouth.

She frowned at his mannerisms, but then she realized her father was much the same when it came to eating.

"Mostly."

He gazed toward her after that half-hearted response, still chewing on his salmon.

"Something on your mind?"

She paused awhile, not sure how to begin, or whether she should in the first place.

"It makes sense now, why you seemed down those days."

Gengyo paused in thought at the sudden change in topic.

'Hoh, she's got a good eye. I'd thought I'd hidden my feelings well.'

"I guess it does."

"But you didn't tell me, until you needed my help."

"That's right."

She looked annoyed at his casual response.

"You could have, you know? I would have listened."

Her comment made him cease his chewing, as he stared toward her, before swallowing.

She blushed under his gaze, before writing off her earlier comment and turning away from him.

"Only if you wanted to though."

He smiled at her kindness, gently touching her elbow with his fingers and offering her his true thoughts.

"Niwa-san, you're far too kind."

She pouted, still looking away, but her blush grew a little more intense.

"I enjoyed our evenings together. That was the only reason I did not mention it. You helped me to forget and clear my head."

One eye looked toward him.

"…Really?"

"Yup. And you've helped me out a good deal by getting your father involved. I think I might owe you a favour."

Now that attracted her attention.

"A favour… That sounds good."

The way she phrased it made Gengyo grimace slightly, realizing that her favour would probably entail something unreasonable.

"After you see the present I brought you that favour should be worth even more."

She smiled warmly, finally finding the opportune time to give her gift. She reached once more into that basket of hers that seemed to be holding all manner of objects, and drew out ten military-grade arrows that had been lining the bottom.

She gently placed them into his bamboo quiver that was nestling nearby before handing it to him.

He could only stare at the outstretched handed, utterly baffled.

"Uhm… What did I do to deserve a present?"

She huffed at his apparent thick-headedness, before explaining it to him.

"A well done for overcoming your family's problem… And maybe a thank you…"

"Ho…"

He received the quiver that had a new weight to it, and inspected one of the arrows.

"These are some quality arrows. Thank you very much Niwa-san."

He reached out and ruffled her hair out of habit from becoming accustomed to doing it with Rin. Though the response was not quite the same. With every second his hand remained, Akiko blushed a deeper shade of red, before finally exploding in a fit of embarrassment.

"Please don't touch my hair!!"

She swiped his hand away, holding her head miserably.

Though her reaction was fierce, it was still incredibly cute, so Gengyo did not feel even a single drop of regret.

…

...

The time passed with idle conversation in regards to the fight, and they enjoyed a pleasant evening together.

After sending Akiko into the trusting protection of her closest maid, Gengyo made his way home in high spirits, clutching his new quiver of arrows and his bow.

He took as much pleasure in these moments of happiness as he could, for he had no idea how long it would last.

His family life was more than he could have ever wished for, and he valued each of his relatives more than he could describe. It was a beautiful feeling he found, the feeling of belonging.

Life was certainly different here. It was not what he had aimed for when he asked that initial question to SAPPHIRE. He was thrown into a time that lacked amenities, and one that would be thrown into conflict very soon. There was no doubt that blood would run, and his family would be put in danger. But as of now, he was happy. There were certain things that material possessions could never make up for.

And so he walked the trail home with practised ease, now being able to navigate without problem even when the darkness had discarded all the light as it had now.

He smelled the pleasant scent of smoke on the air, theorising that Masaatsu must have already lit the garden fire to dissuade bugs.

A yawn escaped his lips, instigated by the feeling of contentment that was tickling his heart.

He flicked one arrow into his hand, admiring it once more.

'Akiko has a good eye for gifts. Practical ones are definitely the best.'

He wondered how he might explain the acquisition of the arrows to Masaatsu – for he intended to allow his brother to use them, in order to aid his practice.

'Ah... I forgot my bow.'

He realized. He'd been so caught up in other things, that he had left the bow by the shore.

'Well, no matter. I'll get it tomorrow.'

With such idle thoughts dancing around him, he saw his house looming in front, lit up by the outdoor fire as he had predicted.

He paused a second, allowing himself to enjoy the full view of his home.

"Are you sure this is the right house…"

Disturbing his peace, he heard what he thought to be a whisper, and glanced in its direction.

Seeing a shadowy figure crouched down, he continued to observe with a piercing gaze.

Though their behaviour was odd, he still had no grounds to assume what they might be doing.

That was, until, he crept forward, just as a burning torch was thrown through the air.

Chapter 24: Madness

Within seconds the whole roof was engulfed in a vicious flame. It crackled madly, as though mocking him. He felt as though a stake had been driven through him at the sight.

A deep worry radiated out from his heart and reflected back off his ribs. He began to sweat fiercely and breathe heavily as he worked his brain to the fullest.

'Should I give up my position, and call out to my family, warning them of the fire?'

Such was his line of thought, but the problem was: what then? The only advantage he held over the attackers was the fact that he was hidden, and if he gave himself away he feared there was nothing he and his family would be able to do.

He saw Kyougoku pick out two men.

"Go round the front, and capture anyone trying to escape. No killing. I want to make this fucker suffer."

The men nodded obediently, one holding a bludgeon, and the other a spear, and they quickly ran around to the front of the house.

It was then that Gengyo made his decision. He had to act fast, before his family were captured. He had stated that he would not kill them - not straight away - but that did not mean that he could afford to behave leisurely.

Of course, he could not be certain, and the stress of such a gamble caused him to clench his fists so tightly that his fingernails drew blood. He hated the thought of playing with his family's lives, and an intense fear as to the consequences of his misjudgement burned inside him.

A few seconds passed, and Kyougoku continued to watch the flames with a maniacal smile on his face. Taking in deep breaths and emitting a pleasured sigh, as though he found a deep sense of satisfaction in the entire thing.

It made Gengyo sick to the stomach to see such madness, and so close to him. A dangerous madness that was putting the lives of his entire family at risk.

He cursed himself for not noticing such insanity sooner, and not predicting the reaction. He had contented himself in the knowledge that he had the backing of the master. He had not anticipated that there was someone mad enough to even go against the landholder, Niwa-san.

"OYYYYYYY MIURAAAAA. YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIREEEE, BETTER WAKE UP, EH?"

Those with Kyougoku continued to make noise, adding to the clamour.

Gengyo turned on his heel, and sprinted back towards the shore, so that he might retreive his weapon, and face them. As he was now - unarmed - he did not stand a chance.

By now, voices could be heard from the inside – screams more like. He could not make out distinct words or people above the roaring flames, but he could hear all too well the fear that those voices held.

They likely understood the situation, just from the shouts, and were panicked as to where they should flee. The most pitiable part was that there was nowhere. Only into the arms of their aggressors.

The backdoor was kicked through – it was such a mess from the flames, that no other method was present. A cloud of smoke swam out into the yard, and Kyougoku shielded his eyes from the attacks of such a cloud.

In the smoke, two figures could be seen. A tall man supporting another by his side.

It was obvious who the two men were. But neither of them could feel relief upon escaping the fire, for Kyougoku's men were already moving forward, and their eyes were all but closed, protecting them from the smoke.

Coughing fiercely, and stumbling in their blindness like moles, they were easily beaten down. The first man attacked with the blunt head of his axe, driving it into Masaatsu's stomach, instantly downing him.

He groaned loudly as he tried to support his father, ensuring that he would not experience such a fall.

But his efforts were in vain, as the second man had already clubbed his father over the back with his bludgeon, sending him careening to the floor.

Still engulfed in smoke, and all but immobilised, the disoriented Masaatsu and Morohira were dragged out towards Kyougoku, and then restrained. Their hands were forced behind their back, bent at the elbows – so they could not summon any force – and then a man sat on each of them, utilising his full weight, and tying their hands up with his arms. They had no way of moving.

Kyougoku took great delight in watching the younger man struggle with all his might to free himself, and laughed heartily.

"Go on then young buck, try and escape. The second you do my boy will bury his axe in your skull."

He then turned to the man of the hour, and crouched down so that he was all but eye level.

Morohira stared up at him with eyes reddened from the smoke, and spat out his evaluation of the beast in front of him.

"You're a fucking coward Kyougoku! I won that fight – fair and square. And you have to come here and try and murder us in our beds? You absolute fucking dog!"

"Hmm…"

The brute in front of him stared at him for a few seconds, as though thinking. His smile did not waver, and a second later he sent a fist toward Morohira's face, rocking his head to the side.

"Now,"

He stood up and spoke as though scolding a naughty child.

"Every time you attempt to insult me you will be punished, understood?"

Morohira and Masaatsu had sent the girls out the front, hoping to allow them to escape, whilst bearing the brunt of the enemies anger themselves.

Alas, their sacrifice had been for nothing, for screams rang out.

The brute's face turned downright demonic as he took the sickest satisfaction in those screams and the reaction of Morohira, whose face fell, and looked as though he had lost all will to live.

Masaatsu, on the other hand, grew even fiercer, struggling with all his might, his anger overwhelming him.

Yet, the club of an axe handle over the back of his head was his only reward.

Rin was dragged around the back of the house, screaming from her pain, her face awash with tears. The hair that she was dragged by tore out in places, leaving bloody marks. Her body collided with numerous obstacles along the rough forest floor, only serving to worsen her torture.

Fuku on the overhand was carried over a man's shoulder, wriggling with all her might to get free, pounding on his back. But her efforts only served to irritate him, as his grip remained firm.

She was thrown to the ground, hard, as soon they drew close to Kyougoku. She landed heavily, crawling along the floor in agony, struggling to breathe, as the wind was forced out of her.

A tear fell from Morohira's eye at the sight of his wife and daughters misery, and he amassed a well of fury. Knowing he could not escape as he was, he chose to conserve it for a better time.

Rin was thrown next to her mother, her exquisite appearance now almost ruined by patches of blood and streams of tears.

By now Gengyo had reached the shore, and scrambled over the pebbles frantically, grasping for his bow.

"You see, Miura. I truly hate you, with every fibre of my being."

The demon pressed his face up against the downed Miura once more, relishing the complete authority that he held over him.

"But killing you… That's so simple. So quick."

He moved over to Fuku, who was still crouched on the floor, and he raised her up.

He ran a hand down her cheek, slowly, gently. She shivered at his touch that was the height of perversion, of repressed feeling, of complete and utter madness. It was a touch that sought to control.

Morohira's mouth opened wide, and his eyes sank. He could not stand that man's touch upon his dear, delicate wife.

But he was not finished there. Looking Morohira in the eye, he continued to foul his wife.

His hand made its way into her the top of her kimono, moving down toward bare skin.

Though they could not see the hand underneath, all present knew what was going on. Fuku stared hard at the floor, clenching her fists, as tears silently ran down her face. She did her best to bear his groping, but could not hold back her yelp as he pinched her bare nipple.

"You have a beautiful wife, Miura…"

He said softly in a voice that was sickeningly sweet, causing Morohira to gag.

He contented himself now with a handful of the softness of her rear, before turning his eyes toward his next target.

"And a beautiful daughter too…"

Rin recoiled at his gaze that was dripping with lust, attempting to step backwards, her tears flowing even faster now. But the solid mass of a man behind her prevented her from going any further.

A pair of strong arms restrained her, and the sickness of Kyougoku loomed ever closer.

His thick fingers slowly pushed back the bloodied hair off her face, ever so gently.

Her face tightened as she attempted to bear it as her mother had.

But then his face grew closer, and his tongue sullied her cheek, tasting her tears.

Kyougoku moved back toward Morohira, talking all the while.

"You see Morohira. I want you to suffer, a good deal, before you eventually die."

"In the end, I suppose, you'll be begging for me to kill you, won't that be nice?"

"You think I'm sick, perhaps? You know nothing about sickness, or madness. Before I finally release you and your family from this world, I will have you watch as I take your daughter and your wife into my bed."

"Ho… That's quite the face you're making. I wonder how you'd feel after actually experiencing it? I'm quite the sick man, as you know. When it comes to the art of lovemaking, I like to think that there is no one as depraved as me."

"Of course, after I'm done – if they're still alive – your women will become the pleasure toys of my men for a time."

He paused his demented monologue, and looked around as if realizing something.

"Ah… There was another one, wasn't there? Where's the boy, Morohira?"

He'd finally noticed that Gengyo was not present.

"I'll be damned if I tell you!"

Morohira physically spat in his direction, but that only caused Kyougoku's smile to grow wider, as he'd found the perfect excuse to send another beating his way.

With the father now covered in fresh blood, he turned to the son.

"Anyway, we have no use for this one. May as well kill him and free up some men."

He spoke so casually when regarding Masaatsu's life, but his men knew he was serious, and dragged the boy forward, forcing him to his knees.

Kyougoku whipped his katana from his scabbard, and lined up the killing strike. He needed no preparation before taking a life.

It was only then that Gengyo made it back to the house, and was greeted with such a sight - a blade hanging ominously above his brother's head.

Chapter 25: The Gaze of a Slighted Man

The brutish man did not even see the arrow coming. It penetrated the soft skin of the back of his neck, before tearing through his throat and peeking out the other side.

He paused his sword mid-swing, and frowned deeply, looking terribly confused.

Reaching toward his neck, he made contact with the arrowhead, and his fingers came away covered in blood.

He swayed wildly as though drunk, his eyes bulging in his head as a look of fury started to possess him.

He took his sword, summoning the last of his strength, and moved toward Morohira.

But the wound was too deep, too debilitating, and he only managed to mouth the word "how", followed by a spurting mouthful of blood. He fell to his knees, and the sword fell from his grasp, before finally, he landed face down in the dirt, with a stream of blood trickling out of his neck.

It was a messy end for a man who fancied himself above the law and came as a shock to all those that followed him.

They had worn twisted grins that had risen up as a result of the depraved pleasure in which they indulged, and the powerful feeling they felt in suppressing someone else. Now such a look had been replaced by slackened faces. Faces full of uncertainly.

They were men that had fancied themselves as powerful, but it was but a guise given to them by the existence of Kyougoku. A man that they submitted themselves to.

Now that such a man – who they had deemed to be all but invincible – had been killed so suddenly, without any warning, they were at a loss.

Fear was the first emotion they felt when the shock began to subside, and they glanced at each other for reassurance.

The man with the spear seemed to be the most panicked. He moved behind Fuku, forcing her into position through the utilising of his spear shaft about her neck, and voiced his doubts to his comrades.

"What the fuck do we do!? Who the fuck was that shooting? The city guard? We're fucked… We're fucked I tell you! Why did I trust Kyougoku… He said we would be fine. Did I not warn you? I told you this was a bad idea! We should just run… Get out of here. While we can!"

The man restraining Masaatsu – having forced him to the floor once more – feigned calmness, though his face was slick with sweat, and his voice was unsteady.

"Fool! Stop panicking. It's obviously just one man. The village guard patrols in pairs. So what if Kyougoku got fucked? There's still four of us."

The two remaining men nodded at that, seeing the sense, and the man with the bludgeon spoke up.

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck the baldie. We'll deal with this archer, and then we'll have the women to ourselves, ain't that special?"

The Miura family were sharing glances, knowing full well who it was.

Even with a bludgeon at her throat, Rin's tears were still drying up as she dared to hope, and put her faith in Gengyo.

With her free hand, and the attention directed away from her, Fuku adjusted her kimono at the chest, and looked toward her husband.

Morohira's face was that of a tiger waiting to pounce. He knew his moment would come, and the second that it did he was determined to tear apart those before him.

This all happened in less than a minute, but Gengyo was already on the move. He had a strategy laid out in his head, and pushing his body to its limits, he sprinted through the forest, around the perimeter of the house, choosing his next target.

Once the line of sight was good, it took him but moments to release his next arrow, and then he was on the move once more.

They heard a whisper on the wind, much like that of earlier, and flinched in fear, using their hostages as shields.

But such tactics were of no use against a man as accurate - and as determined - as Gengyo, and with a smooth sound, like that of a knife through meat, another life was taken.

Masaatsu had known instinctively in his heart that he would be first, and as soon as he heard the rumours of an impact, he freed himself from a now weakened grasp, and dove forward seizing Kyougoku's sword, whirling around to threaten all that looked toward him.

Blood stained his kimono, with the source not far behind. A man – the wielder of an axe – lay motionless, with an arrow through his ear, and a face etched with a permanent expression of true fear.

He understood his role, and Gengyo's aim, even without prior discussion.

He swung his sword aggressively toward his enemies, only aiming to incite fear within them, as he used his words to do the true damage.

"Do you now see? The village guards have come. It's over for you – unless you run."

His words cut at a fresh wound, as the already terrified and directionless men became furthermore fearful.

It was the spear wielder who spoke up once more.

"He's right! Please, let's get the fuck out of here!"

He was ready to flee at a moment's notice, but given his weak character, he felt even more fearful at the prospect of fleeing alone.

The man with the bludgeon that spoke earlier felt the same fear as his comrades.

"Yeah… But the women! I've not come all this way, and suffered all this to go back empty-handed! So what if it's the village guard? We can handle two of them, easy. We'll just sit it out and wait for them to run out of arrows – then we'll take em!"

With Rin as close to him as she was, and her scent in his nose, he was overflowing with lust. He was far from a handsome man, and had never bed someone as pretty as she, and so was filled with a deadly reluctance.

The last man still said nothing, merely continuing to restrain Morohira with all his might, and whimpering ever so slightly.

He closed his eyes tightly and prayed to the gods for the first time in his adult life. He begged for them to forgive his many sins, and to allow him to live. He promised to live out of the rest of his days as a good man – a charitable man. And save those before him. He would even spare those here, if only they should choose to let him live.

But though the gods may have heard his words, they did not believe them, for when he opened his eyes he let out a shriek.

His final comrade with any degree of reliability was collapsing forward, an arrow protruding from his left eye.

Rin fell with him, trapped under his heavy mass, and filled with an overwhelming sense of disgust as his sweat and blood-soaked her back, and coated her skin. She wriggling fiercely, managing to free herself, before bending down and snatching the club.

She saw the corpse of Kyougoku in front of her and brought her bludgeon down toward his back with all the strength she could muster. It landed with a satisfying meaty sound, and she nodded to herself, before using the sleeve of her kimono to clean her face with a fearsome intensity.

The wickedness of Kyougoku had left a deep impression on her, and she wished to rid herself of all traces of their interaction.

She then turned around with a savagery in her eyes, threatening the two remaining criminals with her club.

"You idiots! That's not the village guard – it's someone far scarier!"

She paused for a second, overwhelmed by a concoction of relief and intense anger, and her tears filled her eyes as she used all the strength she could muster to shout out.

"MY NII-SAN!"

The men shrank back at her words, with the same timidness of a house cat. They felt nothing at what she said, but the intensity of her words accelerated their already racing hearts, and they wanted nothing more than to run for their lives, though they knew full well how exposed they would be.

Their inaction was fatal, and another arrow claimed another life, this time finding its way into the right eye.

With Gengyo constantly on the move, firing his arrows from different angles, the hostages they held as protection were effectively useless.

Morohira stood up slowly, cracking his neck as he played with the axe in his hand. His gaze was murderous as he glared menacingly at the man that held his wife.

He spoke slowly, and calmly, but his words were dripping with a blood-curdling ferocity.

"Release – my – wife."

The man didn't need to be told twice. The fearsome trio of wronged souls in front of him, all clamouring for his life was enough for him to forget the danger that fleeing presented.

He stumbled backwards, away from his captive, dropping his spear in the process, and ran raggedly into the forest.

The father lifted his axe, aiming it just right, before sending it hurtling toward the exposed back.

It landed, though not exactly where he had aimed. The man fell to the ground sporting the brand new fashion style of an axe in the head.

Though Morohira's throw had not been the one to claim this man's life. A split second before it had landed, an arrow had pierced the man's heart, sending him stumbling straight into the path of the axe.

The old man glanced in the direction that arrow was released from, tutting slightly, feeling a little dissatisfied at not being able to exact his revenge.

But when he saw the haggard figure of his son strolling toward him, bow over shoulder, quiver in hand, and face stern, his feelings were replaced with an acute sense of relief.

All watched his figure steadily grow closer – dancing in the light of the flames – in silence. The state of their spirits was unsettled, as all sorts of emotions raced through their hearts, watching their little Tadakata, who all had thought to be a weakling, march toward them, having saved all their lives.

Rin was the first to break free from the pack, and she ran toward him, tears flowing once more, plunging herself into his warm embrace.

He held her tightly, resting her head onto his chest as he gently stroked her head.

Though he had saved her life, he felt a deep guilt, having let her be exposed to the darkness of man.

"I'm sorry Rin…"

He said through a breaking voice.

"Stupid…"

She looked up from his chest, revealing the wide smile that was decorating her face.

"You saved us… From that. From all he would have done… I'm so glad… I'm so glad you're my brother Tadakata."

The rest of the family watched on their interactions with smiles as Gengyo looked up from his sister, and toward them. They nodded at Rin's words, feeling much the same way.

They did not say much, for words could not do their feelings justice.

Rin separated herself from Tadakata still holding onto his sleeve, and the family turned to look at the still blazing fire that was devouring their home.

Their emotions toward it were strange. Though there was a hint of sadness there - having watched their family home that they had spent so many years in be burned to ashes - there was no hint of despair. They all held a hope. Not in an idea, but in a person.

Morohira started to chuckle to himself, observing the flames.

Masaatsu raised an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"Well… It seems the Miura family lives on, haha."

There was no humour in it, but the thought itself still provoked an odd tickling that soon had the whole family's faces lit up with smiles as they giggled.

Chapter 26: Justice?

Though much had happened, and the house blazed with all the light of a midday sun, it was still the dead of night.

The euphoria that came with them overcoming the most extreme peril that they had ever faced began to wear off, and none knew how to proceed from here.

Though they kept quiet, in their hearts, they were hoping to hear from one man.

He understood his responsibilities, and spoke on their behalf, lending direction to his dear kin.

"We need to fetch the village guard. It's better to let the landholder know of this straight away, so we show we have nothing to hide."

Morohira played with the stubble that had begun to decorate his chin before nodding.

"Aye, that seems like a good idea."

Masaatsu was of the same opinion, and volunteered up his services.

"If that's the case, shall I go and bring them here?"

Grateful for his volunteering – as Gengyo had no idea where he might find the patrolling guards – he agreed.

"If you would brother, thank you."

His brother smiled lightly at the unnecessary thanks, before setting off on the path toward the village at a light jog.

…

…

Ten minutes later a pair of disgruntled guards stumbled over the many of obstacles of the forest, before arriving to see the charred remains and the last flickering embers of the Miura house.

One made a disinterested comment as he casually observed the pitiable sight.

"Hoh, been a while since we've seen a house burn."

"Yeah, who did you say burned it down kid?"

The young man had to hold back a sigh, as he'd already told them the story multiple times, though they had not paid much attention.

"Kyougoku, from the village over."

"Mm, is that right? And where is that Kyougoku now?"

"He's de- Ah! Watch where you're stepping!"

One of the guardsmen had neglected to check his footing, and his foot hit the corpse of the deceased spear wielder, sending him hurtling on top of it.

"Eh… What the fuc-"

He stumbled up from the ground, recognising the object that was hidden in the shadows to be humanoid, before seeing the axe sticking out of the back of his head and freezing.

"Boy… What the fuck is this?"

The other guard came around to look, and fixed Masaatsu with a similarly aggressive gaze.

"It's like I told you, they burned down our house and tried to kill us, so we fought back."

"'They'? You mean there's more like this?"

Masaatsu was frowning, unhappy with their attitudes.

"Well, yes."

"Bring us to them."

The family were watching from a distance away as the young man glanced toward them. Gengyo caught his gaze, understanding the situation before nodding for him to continue.

Irritated by his hesitation, the guards grew increasingly aggressive and one pushed his shoulder, urging him forward.

"Hurry up kid, we don't have all night."

He relented, and began to walk them toward what had once been the rear of the building, and closer to where the rest of his family stood.

He pointed toward the four corpses that were rather close in proximity.

The guards moved forward, sharing a glance.

They turned over the corpse of Kyougoku, and gasped.

"Fuck me… That's brutal."

They moved off, inspecting different corpses, noticing the accuracy of the marksmanship and single obvious blow used to kill them.

They straightened up, turning to family, hands fiddling with the hilts of their sheathed swords.

"So, who killed them?"

The family looked confused at the rather unexpected question. Did it matter who killed them? The point was that these men had tried to murder them, and they had acted in self-defence, managing to live.

But Gengyo knew as to the reason for this question. It was why he had made certain to claim all the men's lives himself, rather than letting his kin bloody their hands.

He stepped forward, revealing the bow that he held – for it had been relatively hidden behind Rin who stood by his side – and announced himself.

"It was I."

It was enough evidence for the guards who preferred to keep things simple. All the men had been slain by an arrow, and the man before them was holding a bow. In their minds it added up.

They nodded as though good-naturedly, before drawing their swords almost in unison.

"You've committed the crime of murder numerous times this evening. You will have come with us, as our prisoner, and it will be up to the master to decide what punishment you deserve."

There was a certain glee in the guard's voice as he announced the sentencing, possibly due to the excitement he felt at finally being able to make a non-trivial arrest in this rather peaceful village.

Gengyo handed his bow and quiver to a baffled Masaatsu, before walking forwards and showing the guards his empty hands.

The guard who had announced his arrest grinned, and forced his hands behind his back, tying them tightly with a length of twine.

"Wait wait wait! What the hell!? These people tried to kill us! And you're arresting Nii-san?"

Rin burst out, infuriated by the guard's lack of recourse or understanding, and the delight they felt in putting her brother – who had saved their lives – under arrest.

Morohira picked up a discarded bludgeon, toying with it threateningly.

"Are you sure you want to do that now?"

The guards were put off by his naked aggression, and when Masaatsu drew his katana and stood to join him they started to feel the first chills of fear.

They were but guards to the master. Children of servant families that stood slightly higher than that of the peasantry. Though slightly older than Gengyo and Masaatsu, they still had yet to witness their first battle.

Yet the other men present had taken part in a most grisly and threatening situation, comparable to that of any battle. Such was the difference in the aura's they now put out, and the guards realized just how precarious their position would be if they were to engage in battle with such bloodthirsty individuals.

But despite their efforts, Gengyo shook his head sternly.

"I will be back soon enough. This is merely a formality."

They looked dissatisfied at that, Rin most of all, as a frown began to crease her forehead.

To her, he offered a smile.

"You'll ruin your pretty face doing that, little sister. Don't worry – I'll be fine."

The guards fear started to subside, having been given back their authority by the very man they had captured.

"A wise choice."

One of them uttered conceitedly.

But a vicious glare from Morohira soon shut him up.

"Eh!?"

At that the guard hastened to leave, motioning to his comrade, and pushing Gengyo forward.

…

…

He was marched into town under the cloak of silence, as not even the guards spoke. An odd tension hung in the air. Though they were arrogant and felt they were very much in charge, there was something about the man that they pushed in front of them that made them wary of saying something foolish.

The few villagers that were still up shot him curious glances. Some conversed with one another, trying to guess what crime he had committed.

"That's Miura's boy innit?"

"Aye lad."

"What do you suppose he's done?"

"I wouldn't dare to suppose nothing. The Miuras have proven to be an unpredictable bunch, but I don't think they'd do something dishonourable enough to get them arrested."

"Hoh… The other day you were calling that lad's old man worse than rotten, and now you're sticking up for them?"

His friend shrugged.

"Aye, I'm not the smartest, but I do learn from my mistakes. That lad spoke up for his father at work, in front of all us farmers. I reckon that's a good lad."

"Did he? Aye? How come I'm only hearing of this now?"

"Mmm, I dunno. I thought you'd already known."

The bickering of the two buddies grew quieter as they walking deeper into the heart of town.

They soon arrived at the market square, and went off down a path that ran between two houses.

Ahead, Gengyo could see a bamboo cage that looked more fitting for a beast than a man, for at most it stood but a metre high.

He glanced toward the guards, his gaze asking whether that was truly his final destination.

"Yeah, you're going to spend the night in there. The master will decide what to do with you in the morning."

That same gleeful smile emerged on his face as though he took pleasure in the suffering that Gengyo was about to endure.

But the youth calmed himself with a breath, and as they opened the door of his new prison, he stepped in freely, stooping over, before sitting cross-legged in the centre with is hands still firmly tied behind his back.

"It's a good look for him."

The other guard commented, sharing a laugh with his partner.

And so the door was tied shut with a thick strand of twine, and Gengyo was left to deal with the discomfort alone.

...

…

The hours passed slowly. Having been around midnight when he was placed in the cage, dawn took almost 6 hours to come.

Just before the first morning light could be seen, his uncomfortable sleep was interrupted by a set of whisperings from rather nearby.

"Miura-san… Miura-san…"

He opened his eyes to see Aritada and Yoritomo standing in front of his bars.

He smiled, a little happy to see them.

"Hello."

Yoritomo looked relieved at seeing him wake up so quickly, and hastened to say what he intended.

"I don't know why you're in here, but I definitely know it wasn't your fault. The villagers feel the same."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that."

Aritada - irritated by the indirectness of Yoritomo - took over.

"Yeah, what he said. Anyway, we thought you could use something to eat."

He shoved his hand through the bars, revealing at palm that held a single rice ball.

"That does look rather delicious, but there's a bit of a problem you see."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"Well, they tied my hands up."

"Hoh…"

Aritada slowly slid his hand back out the bars, a little embarrassed, feeling as though he had overlooked something obvious.

But he was saved by the habits of Yoritomo.

"I can cut you free – I always carry a small blade just in case. It's pretty useful."

Gengyo was pleased to hear that, having had the flow of blood in his hands severely restricted he was suffering from a vicious case of pins and needles.

He moved himself around, so that his hands were closer to the bar, and allowed Yoritomo to cut through his bindings.

He flexed his freed hands with a satisfied smile, offering his thanks.

"Thanks for this you two, it seems I owe you a favour."

Aritada waved away his thanks, simply saying one thing.

"Just make sure to tell us what happened when you come and see our sword training on rest day."

His smile widened, and he nodded in agreement.

"That, I can do."

…

…

The two men hurried away before they were caught, and Gengyo stealthily feasted on the rice ball, before positioning his hands as though they were bound and closing his eyes to another round of poor quality sleep.

He was awoken once more a few hours after dawn had broken, with the clopping of hooves tickling his ears.

He caught sight of a refined kimono swinging past the end of one of the houses, and cracked his neck, readying himself for what lay ahead.

'So, part two eh?'

Chapter 27: The Price of Misinformation

The lord strode forth with two of his men in tow, his face full of thunder, with deep creases sullying his forehead.

He neared the cage and barked an order to his subordinates whilst he fixed Gengyo with a furious glare.

"Open it."

The men did as they were bid with haste, taking great care not to worsen their lord's mood.

The bamboo door was open within seconds – the twine easily sliced through - and Nakatane pointed at the prisoner.

"You. Out. Now."

He crawled his way out of the cage on his hands and knees. Upon seeing that Gengyo's hands were not tied, the master's eyes flickered with irritation, but he did not mention it.

"Can you ride?"

"No sir."

He made haste in response, and did so with clarity and respect, for the enraged individual in front of him was rather different from the man he had made contact with previously.

"You will run then. Follow my horse."

He marched swiftly away, expecting the young man and his guards to follow immediately.

Daring not to betray his expectations, they hurried along after him. Three horses were present, and the master – followed by his men – mounted one each, before setting forth along a road out of the village at an urgent pace.

The villagers looked on at the strange scene of Miura's youngest son sprinting behind the mounted master for all his life was worth. But Gengyo did not have the luxury of paying them any of his attention, having to dedicate all his energy to the task of keeping up with the well-bred horses.

He was caught off guard by the master's brusque behaviour, having him pegged as an amiable man earlier on, but he supposed – as they had not shown him any redeeming qualities – that the fault of his mood likely lay with the misinformation spewed by the guards. It was almost unfathomable how detached and irresponsible the men were in regards to their job.

They soon sped out of the village, down the gravelled track that led to the lord's mansion. The footing – having been made with horses and carts in mind – was unideal for a human runner. Every stride he took required more energy than it might, as with each stride the stones were forced backwards a bit before supporting his foot, allowing it to push off.

Needless to say in a very short amount of time he was exhausted. The stamina he had was as a result of working in the rice fields, and it did very little to support him in this fast-paced run.

But he dared not slow nor stop. The angered man that rode ahead – though perhaps in truth he was angry at misinformation – held his life, and the life of his family in his hands. Should he slip up, and insult the man by not respecting his command, who's to say he would be given a second chance to prove his innocence?

Thankfully, after another few minutes passed, the walls of the mansion loomed into sight, and seconds later they had made their way to its gates.

Gengyo had to make a mighty effort to stop himself from collapsing. His heart was pounding and his breathing was ragged. Even standing as he was – with hands on his knees – felt exhausting.

The droplets of his sweat hit the floor, and he reached up to dry his face with a sleeve, and then he had to continue forward once more as the guardsmen opened the gates, allowing the horses through.

The master was in such a fit of fury that he did not even unsaddle the horse that he usually dotted over and cared for as though it were a second child. Instead, he dismounted swiftly, motioned to one of his stable hands, before glaring at Gengyo and striding toward the mansion.

Taking that as a signal to follow – though there was still doubt in his heart – he hurried after him, making sure that he would not lose sight of him within the many halls of the grand building.

He noticed that Nakatane tore his sandals off, and left them by the door, before proceeding inside barefoot. He hastened to do the same.

The cool of the smooth wooden floorboards felt pleasant against his sweltering feet that had roasted inside his sandals during the run. He used that sensation as a stimulus, and focused on it, attempting to calm his breath and his mind and prepare himself for the task ahead.

They soon came to a set of stairs, which the master proceeded up, two at a time. Gengyo followed shortly after him, careful to maintain a slight gap.

The master entered a room via a sliding door a few moments later, leaving the entrance open. Taking this as a signal for him to follow the master inside, Gengyo stepped into the room, and quietly slid the door closed behind him, before standing still, awaiting further instruction.

Nakatane was seated at his table, fixing the young man in front of him with a cold, and curious glare.

"Sit. And speak. If I don't like what you have to say, assume that I will grow very angry."

Of course, he needed not mention what the lad should speak of. Nor did Gengyo ask. He took his seat opposite the master, bearing the full weight of his intimidating glare, and using the fewest amount of words possible he spoke.

"The man who my father duelled with, Kyougoku, attacked my home and my family at the second of hour of dark yesterday evening. In response, I killed him and all four of his men."

The expression upon the master's face shifted. This was evidently new information to him.

"Hoh…"

He fingers tapped upon the wood of the table, as for the first time he drew his gaze away from the boy in front of him, and instead directed it toward a half-empty glass of saké that grew warm on his table.

He stroked his short beard lightly, processing what had just been said. After a few seconds his temper flared up once more and his fist drove into the wood of the table.

Gengyo flinched slightly at his reaction, and bowed his head, as though in apology.

A whisper of guilt passed over the master's face, as he waved his hand and hastened to correct him.

"No, that's not for you. It's for those useless guards of mine."

Still daring not to break his tone of the highest respect, Gengyo responded lightly.

"I see…"

"Would you like to know what they told me last night, upon imprisoning you? They told me that a local village man had gone on a rampage, killing a series of travellers and that his name was Miura."

To his eternal shame, Gengyo could not hold back a tut. He was tense from dealing with the master's fluctuating rage, but upon hearing something so mindlessly incorrect, something so easily corrected, his tut came almost instinctually.

He reddened slightly, embarrassed at his inappropriate reaction.

"Ah… My apologies, lord."

Watching the youth wriggle so uncomfortably after his outburst, the lord could not stifle his chuckle.

"Hahaha. Lad, I thought I told you to call me Niwa?"

Gengyo raised his eyes up from the floor, seeing a glimmer of hope.

"Ah, yes. Niwa-san."

"Good. Now – you've put me in a bit of a situation. Whilst I did not entirely believe that you had done as my guards had said, that does not mean you escape punishment."

"I understand."

He'd come here prepared for the worst, but still wished to work towards a better result that would not cause too much hurt to his family.

"Very well. Tell me what happened, in detail, from the very beginning."

Nodding, the young man obliged.

"That evening I had spent deeper within the forest, practising my skill with the bow."

"Hoh? Are you going to try out for my bow ashigaru?"

"Yes, sir. That is the plan."

"Good, we'll see how you do. Do continue – I won't interrupt you again."

Doing as he was bid, Gengyo continued.

"On my way back, as I mentioned, the hour had grown late. I was talking my time, enjoying the evening. And then I heard whisperings. Kyougoku and his crew came out from the forest, and lit a torch, before throwing it at the roof of my house."

"Ah yes, the guards did mention something about your house burning. They supposed it was a cover, or something of the like? Oh, right, sorry. Continue."

Almost immediately breaking his promise not to interrupt again, the master motioned for him to continue his telling.

"Well, the house caught fire, and my family fled outside. They beat my father and brother to the ground, and dragged my little sister by her hair. Kyougoku said that he wished to see my father suffer. He passed his hands all over my mother, before contaminating my innocent sister with his foulness."

Nakatane was imagining the scene in his head, but in Rin's place sat his Akiko, and instead of Gengyo's mother he saw the face of his departed wife. He could see the young man's fist bunch up as he recounted the tale of the previous evening, with his face an undisguised portrait of pure disgust.

"And then, he threatened to **** them both, before deciding that it was pointless to allow my brother to live, and acted with the intent to take his life. That is when I took his instead."

Caught up by the last detail, the master posed a question.

"How?"

"With my arrow, through his neck."

Gengyo stated that fact without emotion. It was the first time he had taken a life, but if there was ever a being more deserving of death than Kyougoku, than that person would be the devil himself. He had acted solely with the intent of saving his loved ones, and that relief he felt upon seeing their still lively faces, replaced any guilt he held toward ending another's life.

"That's quite the shot… What of the rest of them?"

"The same. They were holding my blades to my family's necks. I did not wish to risk their lives."

Nakatane's brows furrowed slightly at the rather surprising facts. It was a difficult feat for any archer to shoot with that degree of accuracy – especially when a misfire could mean that hurt their own people.

His fingers continued to dance across the wood of the desk, and he sat in thought.

"I deem your actions justified…"

"Thank yo-"

"However, it is not entirely down to me."

In response to Gengyo's questioning look, he explained.

"The men you killed were not men of this village, and so I do not have full authority on handling this matter."

"Surely the other landholder will share the same opinion? Even if Kyougoku was one of his workers, he was one of the most depraved dogs to walk the earth. Surely he wouldn't sully his honour by defending such a man?"

"Hoh, you'd be surprised. But that can wait for later."

He stood up, and opened the door, shouting the name of one of his servants.

A second later a friendly-looking old man appeared.

"You called for me lord?"

"Yes. Send some of my men with a cart to the Miura household, north of the fields, and tell them to retrieve the five bodies left there. Bring them here. Also, find the Miura family – all of them, and bring them here as well."

Easily absorbing that amount of information, the old man bowed lightly.

"Yes my lord."

And turned to leave.

Just as he was about to disappear down the staircase, Nakatane stopped him once more.

"Ah, you don't need to worry about the youngest son! He's in here with me."

"Understood lord."

Chapter 28: Bowmanship

They listened in silence to the old man's retreating footsteps upon the staircase, straining their ears as it gradually faded from noticeability.

Taking the return of complete silence as a signal, the master spoke, his top-knot wobbling slightly, as though afraid of the sudden movement.

"We have time."

Not quite sure what to do with such a statement, a question was forced.

"Is there something you intend to do?"

Running a finger along the short sideburns of his beard, he thought a moment.

"There is. You've captured my curiosity, with your tales of combative feats."

"It feels a little wrong to call them tales, Niwa-san, but I'd be happy to perform for you with my bow, if that's what you're getting at."

In truth, with such unnecessarily poetic phrasing, Nakatane had expected to catch the younger man off guard a little, but the boy responded as though not noticing.

'Just where did he become so familiar with such words?'

The anger he felt earlier had been borne partly of a disappointment. He had thought, toward this younger man, he had behaved charitably, and had felt rather pleased with his actions. And then, the guard had come to him in his moment of contentment – when even his daughter sought his company – and told him what he had. He had been especially vulnerable in that moment, when he expected the bliss to continue a while longer.

And so his anger had risen, and edged on by the guard, he had almost directed it entirely at someone who's side of the story he had not heard. Now he was secretly glad that he had not done anything too rash.

"Ah, yes. That is what I was getting at."

He stood up, hands on hips, and leaned backwards stretching his spine before letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Well, follow me lad, we'll see what you can do."

Rising at his call, they tread barefoot down the halls and stairs in which they had come, this time taking an exit through a door located at the rear of the house.

Quickly finding his pair of straw sandals and fitting them, he turned to Gengyo, wondering why he had not done the same.

"One moment, Niwa-san, I'll fetch my sandals from the front."

Realizing where he had erred, Nakatane quickly found a pair that looked as though they might fit Gengyo, and offered them to him.

"Here. May as well just use these."

Though the shoes were clean, and looked as though they were relatively new, Gengyo was hesitant about wearing them.

"Niwa-san… but do these not belong to someone else? They'd feel a little wronged if I were to use them."

The master shrugged.

"It shouldn't be a problem, just tell them I said it was fine."

Still a little reluctant, as his own shoes were but a short distance away, Gengyo slid into them, realizing that the Nakatane was not exactly the patient type. Or perhaps he was more excited to see his bowmanship than he was letting on?

The grounds to the rear were far more spacious than one might have initially imagined. In it, there seemed to a dedicated space suitable to train anything.

There were not one, but two sandy sumo rings to the far right-hand side, and these were a good size too, at least four and a half metres in diameter.

There were a couple of guards training with bokken in a large square-shaped section of the courtyard, where the ground was made to be solid with smooth bricks giving the feet of the fighters a solid foundation.

And then, further to the left side of the grounds, there was an area that appeared to be dedicated almost entirely to archery. It seemed the guards tended to train with their bows in groups, as there were a series of 6 targets lined up, with a wooden wall behind them to catch any stray arrows.

Nakatane led him there.

"These are the 50 pace targets. You'd stand there, where the brick of the ground begins to meet with the gravel. See how it forms a line?"

Gengyo took in this information, glancing toward the straw targets that bore palm-sized red bullseyes.

Past this row of 6, there were three at the 75 pace range, and another one sitting at 100.

"What's the test for bow ashigaru like?"

Having already been enthusiastically explaining various things to do with the shooting range, he was only too happy to answer.

"Good afternoon, sir."

His beginning was interrupted by a guard, who bowed lightly in greeting, before moving toward the targets bow in hand.

Nakatane regarded him lightly with a nod, before commencing his explanation.

"The bow ashigaru test is simple, really. At 50 paces you need to be able to the target 6 times out of ten shots, and then at 75 paces you need to be able to hit one out of five shots."

"In battle though, would you not simply be picking an angle and firing? There's no real accuracy involved."

The master did not mind this question which may be viewed by a more uptight man as a form of impudence, as it was seemingly undermining the way in which he operated.

"Aye lad, I think so too. But that's just the way in which it's done. It's a way of separating the workers into units, and at least this way they have to earn their position. If not, everyone would want to be bow ashigaru, would they not? It's a lot safer than sitting on the front."

"Hmm…"

Gengyo understood the reasoning, which was clearly not that of Nakatane's own, but he still felt dissatisfied with it.

"Well then young Miura, shall we see how you fare against the old test?"

He clapped his hands together, betraying his eagerness.

"I think I'd like that."

He had a certain degree of confidence in regards to the test. His own training had already surpassed the ashigaru test recently, especially with his training in motion, and the results of which were evident when one looked at the lifeless corpses of Kyougoku and his crew.

"Yanagizawa! Lend this lad your bow, would you?"

The master called out to his guard who was in the middle of firing his next shot.

The man looked disgruntled, and his thick moustache twitched. He stilled the tension in his bow, and un-nocked the arrow, looking Gengyo up and down. He noted his well-kept appearance, but the blackened rags that he claimed to be clothes betrayed his true rank. He was a peasant.

Evidently looking down on the man, he came over and held out his bow.

Grabbing it firmly with one hand, and looking the arrogant man in his eye, Gengyo paid a second insult to his pride.

"I will be needing some arrows, if you would."

Feeling a certain amount of rage at such a lowlife giving him an order, he looked to his master.

Nakatane's only reply was a nod, as though he was oblivious as to the unspoken conflict in which the two had engaged.

It was a small smidgen of satisfaction that he received upon having the guard deliver him his quiver of arrows, but the disgust he felt at having someone evaluate him merely based on his birth had needed to be dealt with.

Now, he intended to teach this man a very valuable lesson. To teach him why the modern world had neglected to enforce the tradition of classism so strongly – though it was not as though it did not exist.

"Shall I begin?"

He asked, looking toward the master, who nodded, folding his arms in anticipation.

He toyed with the bowstring in his fingers, feeling the weight of its draw, and making the necessary adjustments in his head. It was 20 pounds lighter than the bow that he had made, making it a top of the range 90-pound bow.

The guard's face was full of pride as he watched the youngster feel its draw weight. Everyone knew that the cost of such a bow was equal to more gold than a peasant family would see in their entire lives.

'I bet you're loving holding such a weapon, are you not, peasant scum?'

The guard thought to himself.

Noticing his smug glare, Gengyo muttered a comment just loud enough for him to hear.

"A little lighter than I'm used to… but it'll do."

The guard's face went white. That was the last thing he thought he'd hear the boy say.

'Nah… He's just making it up. 90 pounds is the top end for any bow.'

Nakatane had heard him too, and not knowing the true weight of the bow he did not show any surprise.

"Will it be a problem?"

His main worry was that the show that he'd been looking forward to would be ruined.

Gengyo shook his head, taking up and arrow and nocking it.

"No, it should be fine."

He breathed in deeply, and released, watching the path of his arrow with a tension in his heart.

SMACK

Thrown off by the weight of the bow, and overcompensating, the arrow had just clipped the top of the target, before missing and hurtling straight into the wood.

"Hahaha-"

The guard laughed loudly, before quickly reaching a hand to his mouth to muffle any further sound.

Nakatane looked appalled. He'd expected great things from the boy, given his account of the death of Kyougoku, but now all he felt was a dull sense of disappointment.

The guard moved forward, picking up the bamboo quiver, smiling like a lion upon seeing an injured calf.

"Aha, I better take these back, before you break any more arrowheads."

A firm hand on his wrist prevented him from going any further.

"Apologies. That shot was to test the capabilities of the bow."

The guard felt an acute sense of disgust at having a peasant's hand in contact with his skin. Having to physically prevent himself from hitting the boy, he turned to his master once more for intervention.

Even he was doubtful at this point.

"Look Miura-kun… Sometimes when the moment demands it, people demonstrate skill far beyond their normal capabilities. I've seen it on the battlefield countless times myself. Shall we just leave it at that?"

Gengyo was adamant, his hand still on the guard's wrist, as he stared him down with a fierce gaze.

"No, sir. On my honour, the next arrow will find its way to the centre of that bullseye."

Nakatane sighed slightly, waving his hand at Yanagizawa to stop.

'I suppose that is one of the limitations of being so young…"

He thought to himself.

With great reluctance, the guard released the quiver, and Gengyo turned back to the target, taking in a deep breath.

Nocking the arrow once more, he took aim after evaluating the previous shot in his head.

His fingers left the bowstring as one – a swift, clean release.

The arrow travelled straight, as though unaffected by gravity, and plunged into the soft straw of the centre of the bullseye.

He nodded with satisfaction, turning back to his quiver to retrieve another arrow, and taking note of the shocked countenances of the master and the guard as he did so.

The second shot was made in a similar manner, landing so close to the first that the sharpened point sliced through the fletching, sending the goose feather falling lazily down to the ground.

Transfixed by the motion of the fluff, a small smile began to break out onto Nakatane's face.

'That was no fluke – this lad's got skill.'

Chapter 29: Toda The Honourable Samurai

"Lad, shoot one more at this range and then we'll move up a bit."

Excited to see the full extent of his abilities, Nakatane hurried him forward.

But it was not as though Gengyo minded. He'd already memorised the specifics needed to shoot a constant central bullseye at this range anyway.

He notched his bow, and this time did not even pause to aim, merely bringing his string back with haste, and releasing it sharply.

Yet it still flew toward its intended position, nestled almost on top of the other two arrows.

He'd realized the importance of the speed of your shot after the previous evening's events, and had - in his confidence – deemed it appropriate to test such speed at this range which was now rather trivial for him.

The master hurried off toward the 75 pace range, awaiting Gengyo, who was busy collecting his things. As he bent over to pick up the quiver, he noticed that there were only two arrows left, and he turned to the guard once more.

"Would you mind getting me a few more arrows? I'm going to run out pretty soon."

The guard was completely dazed, and dumbly stuck out his hand to receive the quiver, before turning around and doing as he was asked.

He felt a good deal of shock upon seeing the youth land such perfect bullseyes so easily. He had been training on these grounds, in the master's services, for years, and fancied himself to be the best archer amongst the guards. But even he – whilst he could secure consecutive bullseyes – could not do them with the extremely high degree of precision that Gengyo had demonstrated.

There was a hint of respect in his gaze when he delivered the arrows to the boy now, but a distinct feeling of jealousy came along with it. Still, he shared the master's opinion, and wished to see just how much he could do.

"Whenever you're ready, Miura-kun."

Flexing his fingers a little, Gengyo pulled the bowstring – complete with a freshly nocked arrow – back past his cheek, and released.

It was cleanly done, and the arrow flew higher into the air to compensate for the pull of gravity. The parabolic path in which it followed was aimed to perfection, and it thudded into the centre of the 75 pace bullseye.

"Hoh! You're even better than I thought lad!"

The master exclaimed excitedly, slapping his shoulder. It was a lucky man that was able to witness such finesse at the 75 pace range.

Smiling lightly, Gengyo continued the show for his audience of two, and landed a further couple of arrows into the centre of the bullseye, before lowering his bow and looking toward the master expectantly.

"100 paces now?"

"Right you are, let's see what you can do."

They wandered over to the lone 100 pace target that was rather ragged from disuse, as no one had deemed it worthwhile to change it.

When looking at it from the range they were, the distance seemed rather substantial, and you could get a true sense for the skill required to hit it.

This time Gengyo angled his bow rather high, causing a frown on the guard's face.

'There's no way that's going to hit – it's far too high.'

But the young man compensated for such an angle by using a lesser amount of force, only pulling the bowstring back to around 60 percent.

It made for a much more exciting shot. It shot high up into the air, looking as though it was set on a straight road over the target, but just before it flew over, it dipped, landing in the centre of the bullseye.

Nakatane could not help but clap at such skill.

"Now that, was a marvellous shot."

Another arrow was already on his bowstring, and this time he aimed lower, attempting to make the path shallower.

It sped forward with great speed, maintaining a height that was only slightly over that of a target, and then it dipped slightly, flying toward the previous arrow, slicing straight through its shaft, before embedding itself into the spot the previous arrowhead had begun to call home.

Gobsmacked. Even the master could not offer up a compliment, he could only gaze at the shattered remains of the previous arrow, his jaw slack. Such pinpoint accuracy was almost incomprehensible. There would always be slight changes in a shot, surely.

The guard felt as if he was going mad. As if the purpose of the boy in front of him was simply to tell him that his life had been worthless. That every second he had put into wielding the bow had been for nought, and would continue to be for nought for the rest of his life.

He sought out the hairs of his moustache in which he normally extracted a moderate amount of comfort, but today he had to hold himself back from the strong desire to tear them out.

His pride crushed, and his anger boiling, he posed a question, figuring he had nothing to lose.

"How… is it you do that?"

Gengyo answered honestly, not in the least worried about sharing his methods.

"I remember the previous shots, and adjust my shooting angle and draw strength accordingly."

Both men listened intently to what he had to say, and ran it through their heads, thinking it over.

But, they both came to the same conclusion: that was simply too ridiculous. The changes to the shooting angle, by just fractions of a degree, had huge implications upon where the arrow ended up. It was surely impossible for anyone to be able to deal in such tiny amounts.

They chalked it up to him not wishing to reveal his technique, and who could blame him?

"Well lad, you've definitely earned a place in the bow ashigaru. Your years of training have definitely paid off! If any man were half as dedicated to his craft as you, he would stand at the forefront of his profession."

Gengyo said naught to that, for in truth, his time spent training had not even reached a month yet. Though he supposed you might refer to all he had done in his previous life as preparation, and therefore a form of training. He knew that if he had not had those experiences, that taught him how to truly utilise his brain, then he would not have been able to achieve such a level of archery so quickly.

The noise caused by a stumbling servant girl drew their attention, as she called out the master's name.

"MASTER! Please come to the front urgently! Toda-sama has come to pay a visit!"

A deep frown creased Nakatane's forehead, as all traces of his earlier good mood disappeared.

"He came faster than expected. You'd better come with me."

He said, referring to Gengyo, who in turn nodded obligingly and returned the guard's weaponry with a light thank you.

Given the panicked state of the maid, and the stoic expression the master had now adopted, Gengyo felt correct in assuming that the man they were about to visit was not to be taken lightly.

When they exited by the front, they were noticed immediately.

"Niwa, you old dog! After all the trouble you've caused, you still dare to move slowly?"

A man mounted high on a horse, and dressed lavishly called down to them. There was never a person more fitting to be called snake-like. He had long, greasy black hair flowing down from a top knot, angular eyebrows and thin menacing slits that he supposed passed as eyes. A pointed goatee sitting under his chin completed the appearance.

It did not take a genius to figure that the relations between the two samurai were not good. For with him, Toda had brought 6 guards that were dressed in full battle attire, sitting atop war horses that snorted angrily.

And when dealing with a man – who presumably should be of equal status – he did not deem it necessary to even show the slightest bit of respect, refusing to even step down from his horse when speaking.

Nakatane had to offer up a false smile as he struggled to hold back his anger.

"What is it that has gotten brother Toda so upset? You should know that the Niwa household would do their utmost to fix whatever wrongs have been committed."

Toda harrumphed at that but clearly delighted in the submissive attitude that the master was forced to take.

Gengyo watched on with curiosity, wondering what about the man in front of him would be forcing the master to behave as such.

"You know full well what it is. One of your peasants killed five of my people, and you did not hand him over immediately? Are you gambling with your life, little Niwa?"

Raising an eyebrow at the blatant threat, the young man looked up at the master to gauge his response.

"Aha, you jest. I merely deemed it to be too insignificant to bother you with."

"Is that so? Where is this boy, then? My people tell me that it was but a young man? I'll be needing his family too. You have to set an example with this kind of thing, Niwa."

"Ah, please do not be so hasty, brother Toda. Your men attacked their home, and they barely escaped with their lives."

Putting his hand up, and looking to his men with a face of confusion, he spoke.

"And?"

The men laughed at their master's humour, evidently being told to do so.

'What a vain man.'

Gengyo thought to himself, disgusted by the spectacle. Men like him were scourges to the earth, and many a time he had pondered upon what caused such malevolence.

"Haha…"

Nakatane laughed drily, detesting every second of this hateful business.

"He was not the aggressor, is my point."

"Hoh, that's your point is it? Tell me Nakatane, are all lives equal?"

Knowing full well where he was going with this, the master offered up an unenthusiastic response.

"Perhaps…"

"Wrong! The life of the peasants in the field are not equal to that of an honourable samurai. The men your worker killed were valuable assets of mine, you see? They took a good deal of training to be as effective as they were. So not only has he killed my men, but he has also wasted my time. Do you understand how bad that looks?"

He could not believe such arrogant words were actually being spewed. If anyone dared to speak as such in modern times, they would have received a prompt smack.

'Perhaps that is the problem then, he did not receive the smack that he was due?'

"I see… But even the best horse can miss a jump. Was it not your men who ended their own lives, in that sense?"

Twisting his face with irritation, he uttered his displeased response.

"Niwa… you're testing my patience. Bring me the boy, so I can execute him for all to see. And bring me the family too. Actually, it doesn't have to be the same boy. Just bring me anyone, and a family to go with them. We'll get them killed quickly, as we can go back to our business, yes?"

"Hoh, that young man standing next to you is a peasant, is he not? I'll take him!"

He spurred his horse forward, taking a few steps toward Gengyo, and his guards followed.

Nakatane urged the young man back with a hand, standing to face the aggressors himself.

"That's a little unreasonable, brother Toda… Perhaps we can discuss alternative ways of solving this? Ways that would benefit us both? Claiming the lives of more people won't bring your men back."

"No. I set out today with the intention of killing, and I will not be leaving until I have done so."

Chapter 30: A Fly on the Wall

A sleepy Akiko peeked her head out of the window of her second-floor room. She glanced lazily around the courtyard, trying to find the source of the noise.

It wasn't long before she spotted the overbearing greasy figure of Toda sitting atop his stallion, surrounded by his ferocious-looking guards.

At the sight of him, her breath caught in her throat, and she immediately ducked back inside the room, her heart beating wildly, and a sickness beginning to permeate up from her stomach.

The level of disgust – but also fear – that she felt toward Toda Naoyori was incomprehensible to the average person. She had been aware of his existence since she was very young. When she was a toddler, he assumed power of the neighbouring village, due to the sudden death of his father.

And increasingly, with each year, she had grown to dislike him further. And very quickly that dislike turned into hatred.

She had only just awoken, and after a pleasant dream of being carried along gently by a flooding river, her mood had been pleasant.

But a single glance of that greasy snake was enough to ruin it all.

She peeked out again, with a hint of worry. Every time that man had visited, something unpleasant had followed.

Akiko took great care not to be seen, only allowing her eyes out over the frame, as she looked on over the situation.

She could not hear quite what words were being spoken, but she noted the repulsive way in which Toda was gesticulating, and the mild manner in which her father was being forced to respond. And then, next to her father, she thought she spied a familiar figure. But from the angle she was looking at, and because her father and the man were standing side by side, it was difficult to make out many features.

She continued to observe after her near-midday awakening. There was nothing much she was expected to do anymore. She was allowed to live as she wanted, within reason.

As a child she had been engaged in a rigorous education, how to stand, how to act, how to do basic cooking – though that was never really that important, as the servants would cook for them anyway – how to dress, and recently, how to act toward your husband.

But since she had secured a marriage, that education had stopped, seeing as it was now unnecessary. That was the only silver lining in the whole affair. She'd absolutely detested the lessons, and would much rather have learned about history, or the like.

The only two skills that she learned through her 14 years of education that she deemed to be valuable were riding, and reading.

Though they always told her she was a little too wild on the horse. Galloping off and living her guards flabbergasted.

And reading allowed her to learn what they did not deem fit to teach her. Of history, of Japan, and even of the world. In her explorations of numerous literatures she had not found a single one written by a woman, and many a time she had frowned in thought at that.

Still, in such books, she had read of the exploits of incredible women, such as Empress Jingu and her expedition in Korea, and also of the general Tomoe Gozen. It had been a dream for her, when she a little younger, that she could grow up as they, and learn martial arts and the sword just as the men did, and become one of the Onna-bugeisha.

She figured if that happened, and she had shown any amount of skill, perhaps they would not force her into a marriage so quickly, and instead see her as the other men, as a warrior.

She noted Toda start to grow more aggressive, pointing toward the figure of the man hidden behind her father. A few of his men followed up behind him.

At this, she noted with a hint of pride, that her father stood in front of the man - forcing him backwards – as though to protect him.

And then the identity of the man was revealed, and she stared forward with a good amount of shock.

'Miura!?'

Her heart began to beat faster once more, trying to figure out the implications of his presence within her courtyard. Did he somehow offend Toda? Was that why he had attempted to reach for him? And why was he with her father in the first place?

At Nakatane's interfering actions, the mounted snake began to shout, overcome by anger.

"You mean to stand in my way Niwa? You should know that it's no trouble for me to simply burn your village to the ground instead, is that the path you want?"

Her father responded, keeping his voice level so that she could not hear him.

"Innocent? What does it matter? Are peasants not all the same breed? If one peasant has sinned, then we merely need to kill a few in return."

Again, her father's response was not something she could make out.

"Hoh. It seems you've become something of a peasant sympathiser, Niwa. I had always known you were beneath me, but to think that you have fallen so low. You're even inviting one into your home, like that scruffy little dog behind you."

The conversation went back and forth, with Toda insulting Nakatane time and time over, and the older man responding with as much calmness and grace as he could muster.

Akiko hated seeing her father like this, her heart aching. She knew he was a good man, and that he would do right by his people… But some things are too difficult to find a good solution to, and sometimes there is only a choice between two bad ones.

She felt a different sense of worry for the man behind, who was watching over the situation with that calculating gaze of his. She wondered what was going on in his head at times, for she had him pegged as an interesting man. And perhaps, a caring man too. He had gone to great lengths for the honour of his family, and had even treated her kindly – whom he did not know too well.

'Are he and I friends?'

She wondered.

It was a difficult thing to establish. They were cordial with one another, and spent a good amount of time together, making each other laugh. But was that enough to make them friends? She did not know.

The control that had been placed on her life since a young age had starved her from such relationships, and now that one was beginning to form, she had nought but her knowledge gained from books to judge it by.

She did know one thing though, and that was that she enjoyed his company. Whilst she was all but confined to her room with this injury of hers, the one thing she looked forward to was her time spent at the lake in the evenings.

The conversation down below was interrupted, as a few of Nakatane's guards began to march through the entrance.

The older man's face fell, as he realized what would follow them.

A guard behind them spurred on a horse that dragged a grisly cart behind it, with a cloud of flies following along the way.

She could see nothing of the bodies except from a stray arrow sticking in the air – one that she recognised.

'Are those not the same ones I gifted him? I…'

She paused, wondering what this signified.

Had he killed livestock? Or were those even his arrows in the first place? The plumage was rather unique, being red, but it would not be impossible to find such arrows elsewhere, surely?

But a familiar set of people walked into view from behind the cart, and his involvement in something was all but confirmed.

She recognised Gengyo's little sister, Rin, and not for the first time she complimented her beauty.

'His sister's really pretty… So is his mother.'

…

…

Gengyo panicked upon seeing his family come into view, instantly realizing that everything had very much gone down the pan.

Toda glanced from him, back towards his family, then back towards him, before a huge smirk covered his face and he began to chuckle.

"Gahaha, so that's how it is, eh Niwa? That's definitely this dog's family – they look too similar. And they were brought in with the bodies of my men. So you've already gathered all the pieces for me, how kind of you."

"Wait! Do not be rash, I-"

He was completely ignored by Toda who turned to his men.

"Capture them. Feel free to kill those that struggle."

Was his cold command, and his men instantly spurred into action, sending their horses forward and pointing their shining weapons at the guards who stood in their way.

"Fuck!"

Nakatane cursed loudly, his fist clenching. He ground his teeth hard, as his brain raced with a tide of options. All that he had planned, all that he had sacrificed, was about to be for nothing.

But was it worth it, if, in the end, they were all the playthings of such a venomous tyrant?

"MEN! Heed my words! Do not allow those dogs an inch closer – all that do, should meet the end of your blade."

A great cheer resounded out from the men. They had been pushed around by Toda's people for far too long, and now they had finally been given the opportunity to fight back.

The guards at the front of the cart brandished their spears, pointing them threateningly toward the approaching horses.

Guards sprang out of the entrances of houses, bows drawn and pointed at their quarries. At such close range, a kill was all but guaranteed.

There were in total 6 bowmen, and 11 infantry. The odds were very much not in Toda's favour, and his men were looking back to their master nervously.

The snake's face was a mask of displeasure, looking as though he was ready to cover Niwa in a thick mucus laden with venom.

"So? You've made your choice then, old man? You've finally gone mad?"

"I have."

"Even after offering your own daughter up to me, like the whore she is, you make this choice? And for what? Peasants? Your village will be burned to the ground, this is not a fight you can win."

"I'm aware. But it's better than suffering under scum like you. My dear daughter is far too precious to become your toy – it has taken me too long to realize what my heart has always known."

"Pity. She will still become my plaything. I will ride into this village on the morrow, with my men, and we will rape and pillage all the way up to your mansion's gates. And when we get here, what do you think will happen? Hoh, I think I'll leave that to your imagination. But even if she has to spend her life as a drugged mess, your daughter will not be free from my reach."

"You fucking swine! I'll make sure to take your head before she can even catch sight of you!"

"Hahah. I'm actually looking forward to this now – I can finally wipe out your stain without having to suffer the Daiymo's punishments."

Gengyo saw an opportunity to speak, and though he knew his voice would not be welcome, he still felt it would not hurt to try.

"It is still dishonourable to attack us immediately upon the morrow. The Daiymo will not improve – not at this time, when we are preparing to go to war. A week, at least, would give you some smidgen of honour."

Toda glared down at him, shocked that he'd actually spoke up in his presence. His face contorted with disgust, as though he was looking at the infected corpse of a plague victim.

He then looked back at Niwa, acting as though he had not spoken at all.

"But since I am an honourable man, I will give you five days to 'prepare'. So that you can have fitful dreams in which my face will be featured."

Chapter 31: War

'War?'

Rin heard them say, looking to Masaatsu who was similarly shocked.

War was the last thing they had expected to ensue after that night.

The soldiers radiated an intense bloodlust, and the two samurai conversed aggressively. It was an intimidating sight.

Past the rows of spears and men, she could see the composed figure of Gengyo, looking toward them with worry written in his eyes.

She wondered what would happen, knowing that they had been the catalyst that started it. But more than that, she worried for her brother.

But had their master not defended them? Why had he done that? He owed them nothing. They were peasantry. Did the reptile man not say that he had given up his own daughter for the sake of peace? Why was he now unwilling to merely sacrifice them?

Not to say she wasn't grateful. But she was confused, and therefore mistrusting of such a decision. It couldn't truly be for them, could it? What sort of samurai ever showed any altruism toward the lower class?

Was this not merely him lashing out, unable to bare the others demands? That made more sense. If that was the case, could they assume themselves safe?

'But why have we been brought here… What of Nii-san?'

The rest of her family stared forth dazed, wondering just what they had ended up in the middle of, their heads filled with thoughts similar to her own.

…

…

'War?'

The same word reached another young woman's ears, though her reaction was very different.

She had heard her father's words, calling for her to be saved from that vile man's grasp. But she had also heard his, promising to make her the slave for all his fiendish desires to be carried out on.

'That will never happen.'

She affirmed to herself.

'Even if we don't win, I will take my life, so that my father does not need to worry.'

She did not feel hope in regards to victory, but still her heart was put at ease. This way she could die at peace with her family, and not have to suffer for them.

The odds were very much not in their favour, hence the need for peace in the first place, but out of nowhere – perhaps it had been something the younger man had said – her father had found the resolve to risk everything.

In the declaration that he had uttered, she felt a great deal of pride. Most would call his actions simply foolish, but truly it was the height of honour.

To fight despite the cause being lost, for the sake of your own honour. Was that not what it meant to be a samurai?

He was a noble man, one that had even been momentarily recognised by the daimyo for his military valour. And now such a man had returned.

She saw him now – not with her eyes but with her heart - as a warrior fully armoured with a fearsome men-yoroi adorning his face, and his katana poised toward the enemy.

It was a figure that she would put her faith in, even if it meant her own death, she would never again deign to complain. This was her father, and the man that she was proudest of.

By his shoulder was Gengyo, who once dressed in peasantry she saw to be surrounded in a swirling black mass of smoke and darkness. But it did not frighten her. It felt like the smoke of a fire, and in it, there was a warmth. If she had to describe what it was in one word, it would be potentiality. She did not know who or what he currently was, but she strongly felt that there was something about him could ignite this little province that they lived in, or possibly even all of Japan.

That feeling grew stronger when he opened his mouth and dared to speak in the presence of those two dragons. Yet was it truly daring? What would fire have to fear of a dragon?

…

…

"I look forward to seeing your head on a stick."

Were Toda's final words as he spat at Nakatane's feet, and charged past the guards – who had stood down on the master's orders – with his entourage in tow.

A dishonourable man might have decided to kill him there and then, and assure his own victory. But that was not a path that Niwa would ever choose to take.

He paused a few moments, allowing the sound of galloping horses to fade from earshot, and then he addressed his men, who were still looking toward him expectantly.

"Men! You've always served me loyally, and a good few of you have even gone to war with me."

Those that had, raised their spears with at shout at those words.

"But our moment this time is dire. You all know how well that bastard outnumbers us."

"That is not to say that all is lost, however! You have seen the stupidity with which that dog carries himself – even a sheep would have a chance at outwitting him."

A few genuine laughs rippled out from amongst his people.

"And that is what we will bank on. Through this victory, we will gain much. Honour. Land. And gold! All those that prove their worth in this battle will receive more than his fair share."

All as one their spears were raised at that. Through his experience he knew the hearts of men. Money, and woman were the only two things you could count on to motivate them. And what was so wrong about that? He did not care if they only served him for the coin. He would make sure to do right by them all the same.

Though he was not aware of it, this integrity that he showed had inspired more than your run of the mill loyalty.

"The preparations will be underway soon. You are hereby relieved of any night-time duties. Go home. See your family. Take care of yourselves men, and in this battle to come I will put everything on the line to assure your victory."

Not a single man was a fan of night duty, and his decision to let them sleep was a popular one.

"In the meantime, those bodies are collecting quite a stench. Burn them. Do not worry about respect for the ashes – do whatever is easiest."

"Miura family, I see you have found your way here as well. I have heard of your plight from young Miura-kun here, and am aware that you do not have a place to live. As such, my men will set aside three rooms within the servant's quarters for you to use."

"In this time of strife – and all the times in between – we should stand together as one. We are people of the same village, and will not lose from being cordial with one another, regardless of rank. I trust that you men will act in accordance with these views in future."

Few men remained unwavering at that, knowing that they had been less than civil toward the peasant folk at times.

Gengyo's family bowed deeply in their gratitude, and their youngest son followed suit.

Seeing him do that, Nakatane frowned, and smacked the back of his head.

"Don't."

"Ow…"

Rubbing the back of his head in confusion, he could not stop a smile from forming.

'Aye, he's definitely a righteous man.'

"Ishiyama, follow me up to my room. And if any of you see old man Jikouji, send him up too."

"Yes sir."

A middle aged man with a shaven head - and a short full goatee - walked over, commanding an air of authority. He bowed his head lightly, before waiting for his master to move, with his arms neatly positioned behind his back.

"Let's go then."

Gengyo watched as Nakatane took a few steps away, before turning his gaze to his family, looking forward to their company.

Another smack on the back of head caused such thoughts to evaporate, as he turned around to see the master scowling.

"What's with the hitting? I'm going to be getting brain damage at this rate."

"It's obvious that you'd be coming too lad. You deserve a hit for making me wait. Or do you not think that's fair?"

He lifted his hand threateningly with an eyebrow raised, making Gengyo fully aware of what further complaints would lead to.

He made a point to keep his lips tightly sealed, and the master nodded approvingly, before moving off in the direction of the mansion.

The leader of the guards, Ishiyama watched the exchange with curiosity, but showed no such emotion, nor did he speak.

…

…

They arrived back at Nakatane's room, and the owner of which instantly slumped behind his desk, a tiredness overcoming him.

He noted the two hovering by the doorway and urged them inside.

"Sit wherever you please. Just leave room for Jikouji who should be coming soon."

"I'm already here, lord."

The old man spoke from behind the two gentlemen who were making their way to their seats, and hastened to join them.

The positioning of their seating was a little tight, and an unfortunate Gengyo found himself seated in the middle of the two older men.

To say he felt comfortable there would be a rather grand falsehood.

He did not know quite why he had been summoned alongside the two other men, who clearly commanded positions that far outweighed his own.

Nakatane was not about to relieve the tension either. He sat with his head in his hands, as he felt the full gravity of his actions.

"What have I done…"

He muttered under his breath.

"I cannot comment on the wisdom of your decision, but sometimes it is better to listen to the heart, rather than the head. Else when our hours grow late we will find ourselves swimming in the waters of regret."

The master nodded meekly, almost submissive. He clearly held a good deal of respect for the older man, and Gengyo found himself wondering what exactly their relationship was. He guessed that it erred on the side of teacher student.

He lapsed into silence, before the old man spoke up once more.

"Who is the young fellow beside me, Nakatane? And what did you hope to gain by bringing him here, during this time?"

The lead guard nodded slightly. It was a question he also wanted to know the answer to.

The master sighed lightly in response, not having an adequate explanation.

"My gut. I went with it. He's the lad that killed Toda's men when they attacked his house. One of the best archers I've ever seen. As for why he's here… Just my gut... Ah, why bother. Young Miura, why did I ask you here?"

Gengyo flinched at being thrown such a curveball.

'How on earth am I meant to know that!?'

Was the prevalent thought rushing through his head, but he did his best to remain calm, and give a passable response.

"Perhaps because you are unsure what to do?"

Nakatane clicked his fingers.

"Yeah. That. Honestly, I'm not expecting much from you, kid. But you seem to have a rather good head on your shoulders. Just sit there, and the grownups will talk. If you think of anything clever to say, I'll listen."

"Oh, but if it's stupid, you'll get a smack."

His words were a little condensing, but Gengyo did not take offence. Quite the opposite.

Though the little threat toward the end made him frown.

'Just what about my head has made him so fond of smacking it?'

"Yes, Niwa-san. I'll do my best."

He nodded with approval, before turning to his loyal retainers to begin their discussion.

Chapter 32: The War Council

"So, we're outnumbered. Any ideas of how we might win?"

This question contained no hope at. It was spoken by a man that was seemingly resigned to his fate.

"How badly are we outnumbered?"

Gengyo posed the question, having known nothing about the two villages' military affairs.

"By 200 mounted mercenaries."

The old man responded without looking his way.

"And we have what? 100 men?"

"Correct."

"Can we not afford to hire any mercenaries either?"

The old man sighed slightly at that, clearly not seeing the point in educating this young man.

"No child, that Toda has been involved in all manners of nefarious dealings. His coin far outweighs our own. Even if we were to tax the peasants so heavily that they were all but starving, we would still not be able to afford even twenty."

"I see. So he has around three hundred men in total then, matching our 100 and then the mercenaries on top."

"That is correct."

"How much of their numbers and our numbers will be made up of bow ashigaru?"

He sent a glance toward Nakatane, wondering whether he really had to keep answering these questions, but the master merely nodded slightly, causing the old man to sigh once more.

"10 archers from the guards. 10 archers from the peasantry. There will be 40 peasant yari ashigaru, and 40 guard yari. The enemy's numbers will be similar, only they will have 40 mounted archers on top of that."

"Hoh…"

'This is rather grim.'

Gengyo thought to himself. But the odds were not impossible. They were only outnumbered 3 to 1. In two weeks' time the Oda would win a battle where they were outnumbered 10 to 1. If thought of like that, it was well within their grasp.

"Well, then, let us continue. First off the field of battle needs setting, least even if we win we'll have more damages than we can suffer."

The master nodded.

"Good. Where do you propose the field of battle, then?"

The old man brandished a detailed map of the surrounding area that included the location of all the houses in the village, the forested area, and the rice fields. It continued all the way to the border of Tobishima lands.

It was well labelled in kanji, and it was easy to distinguish one feature from another.

He pointed to an area of land just north of the rice fields. Judging from the scale of the rest of the map, it seemed to be about 1km wide, and 2km long. On its eastern side it was bordered by an area of the forest.

There were no houses in the direct vicinity of the field. It was a good location.

"Good."

The lead guard agreed.

"Yes, by positioning there we're blocking the only road into town, so we can force them to fight on that field."

"What of strategy, then?"

Jikouji continued.

"Well, it's basic, but cavalry is always burdened by trees. If we can bait them into chasing us into the forest, then we will have the advantage."

"How do you propose we do that?"

"Toda is not known for his intelligence. If we train the villagers, and get them to feign desertion upon seeing the enemies numbers, and get them to run into the forest. We'll leave like 30 or so 'loyal men' behind, who stand firm, until the cavalry start to charge, before they route too upon your orders."

Nakatane frowned.

"Will they really fall for that?"

"I cannot say, but in my mind it is the only possible road to our victory."

He looked towards Gengyo.

"Any thoughts, lad?"

"It is a good plan, but-"

"But?"

"I fear we will not be able to execute it without Toda finding out our intentions beforehand."

The old man chipped in.

"Your meaning?"

"Well, he certainly has informants positioned within the village. Else he would never have found about the death of his men so quickly. He likely learned of it even before you did, Niwa-san."

"That's easy enough dealt with then, we simply capture the spies before leading the training."

His fingers stroking his chin, Gengyo proposed something else.

"What if, we leave them to their spying. We train all the villagers as one, without care, to execute a strategy – one that Toda will spare resources in acting to counter. And then, on the night before the battle, we imprison all the spies – for we can identify them through the course of the five days – and then inform the men of our true battle plan."

The three men ran it over in their heads, before finding themselves nodding.

A smile broke out on Nakatane's face at the idea.

"Good! That plays with that arrogance of his perfectly as well. He likes to think of himself as clever. If he believes that he's already outwitted us, simply by countering that strategy he already knew of, then he will let his guard down and be more vulnerable to the real one."

"And what might this false strategy that we propagate be?"

The old man turned to look at Gengyo for the first time.

"I'm sorry, I haven't thought that far yet. Ideally, it would be something that would force a portion of his men to position themselves in a certain location, to counter an ambush or something of the like, but in reality, we're in a different location and can overwhelm their forces before reinforcements have time to arrive."

"I see…"

The rest of the room went into thought for the while, as they let their imaginations take over, and envisioned a strategy that Toda would find believable.

It was Ishiyama, the guard, who came up with an idea first.

"The river, perhaps. We can train them to run to the banks of the river. The horses will find it difficult to navigate the steep banks, and we'll fashion 80 long-shafted spears, about 6 metres long, and we'll have them hidden on the banks of the river. That way, if they deem it fit to check, they'll have all the evidence they need."

Jikouji took over from there, inspired by the groundworks laid by the lead guard.

"Good. And then we'll train our men to act on the day, pretending they can't see any chance at winning, and they abandon their weapons and run to the forest. But in the forest, we'll have another set of long-shafted spears that they can rearm themselves with. Toda will likely laugh, and send his men to hunt them down, as we'll have you, lord, chasing after them, claiming that you'll take their lives yourself because of their cowardice."

Gengyo grinned.

"I like this. We can turn the forest into a mounted man's worst nightmare. We'll have the men run off in different directions, and put a good deal of thin, strong twine, at head height to the mounted men, and that'll take out a good few. We should leave the bow ashigaru out of this though."

"Hoh, what do you mean by that?"

Nakatane asked, hoping the boy was not saying that out of cowardice.

"We'll set up in position beforehand within the forest, and after the mercenaries have taken the bait, we'll start reigning fire down upon the guards and the ashigaru of the enemy. When we have their attention, and they start to come towards us, we'll make a move and regroup with you. We should try and get as many of the enemies horses as possible, and form up an improvised yari cavalry unit. With those long yari that we fashioned earlier, we can decimate them. We can probably take their bow ashigaru out in one fell swoop."

With this icing on the cake, all the men present began to feel a certain degree of excitement. Even the old heart of Jikouji started to quicken, and his palms began to sweat.

Was there truly hope?

One man though, Ishiyama, still had his doubts, and so voiced them.

"I believe this is a good plan… however, what if he decides to send some of his men out beforehand, just ten even, then whilst we do battle, the village will be burning behind us, and the women and children will be slaughtered."

Gengyo shrugged at that, not seeing the need to worry at such small numbers.

"Arm the women."

"What?"

They were shocked at his nonchalant response. What would arming the women achieve?

"Come on, it's not that crazy an idea. Give them a few days training with basic spear movements, give them some medium-sized yari that they can handle, and the mounted enemies shouldn't be a problem. They'll probably be some decent archers amongst the women too. Of course, those too old and too young should not be expected to fight. But some of the women are just as fierce as the men, you know?"

"I have this little sister, you see. And honestly, I would not like to be the man on the horse riding toward her when her spear is poised. I think other women in the town will be just as fearsome."

Nakatane ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts with his daughter. He recalled when she had mentioned wanting to be an Onna-bugeisha when she was little. Perhaps… as a sorry, for all that he had put her through. A few days of training, would that please her?

Still, the thought of her engaging in battle filled him with worry.

Gengyo continued, attempting to convince the other men. It was rare to find a female warrior. They were like a different breed. It seemed absurd to drop weapons in the hands of the women and suddenly expect them to fight.

But was that not exactly what they did with the yari ashigaru men?

"There should be at least 40 fighting women, with good length spears. Do you really think they'll be unable to deal with just 10 men? You're looking down on them too much."

"Ah, fine. The boy's right. We simply don't have the men to spare for anything otherwise."

Nakatane finally relented, feeling a certain bitterness at it having come to this.

They wallowed in silence for a while, thoughts of the plan passing through their head.

Ishiyama turned to Gengyo.

"You mentioned setting traps in the forest. Who will do this when we are unsure of who to trust?"

"My family and I can. It shouldn't be too much work."

The master nodded.

"Good enough for me."

"And the women's training. What will we say for that?"

"So that they can be closer to the men before the battle, and experience what they might."

"…That's not great, but I suppose it will do."

Seeing that there were not more questions, Nakatane began to wrap things up.

"Well, we'll start getting the preparations underway. Gather the villagers, announce what's ahead. Any work in the fields will be suspended until after the battle. We will train the 'strategy' twice a day. And let them know that the test for the bow ashigaru will be held tomorrow."

"Will I need to take that test, Niwa-san?"

"Mmm. No…"

He lapsed back into thought again, and seeing that he wasn't about to speak any time soon, Jikouji stood up and made a move.

"I will make haste with the preparations, then."

Ishiyama followed suit.

"As will I."

Gengyo looked from the retreating duo to Nakatane – whose eyes were still glazed over in thought – and wondered whether to stay or leave.

His decision was made for him, as he noticed the old man Jikouji gesturing for him to follow.

He bowed his head lightly toward the lord, and then moved towards him.

"Walk with me a while."

The old man said, as Ishiyama disappeared down the stairs.

Chapter 33: A Harsh Lesson

"Who taught you?"

Came the blunt question, as the old man paused and turned to look Gengyo in the eye.

Given the situation, the young man had been prepared for something odd to be said.

"I've been asked this before. There is no one - in this life - that has taught me."

The old man squinted slightly, put off by the unusual phrasing of his reply. But after a short examination, he could only sigh, and continue walking.

"You are an odd individual, Miura-kun. It seems young Nakatane sensed that too."

"I see…"

"Your strategical mind is most developed for someone of your age. It was I who taught the master what he knows of strategy, and he has an aptitude for it. Alas, his problem is that he cannot formulate plans under stress."

"You've served Niwa-san for a long time, then?"

Jikouji responded without inhibition toward the casual question, seemingly relaxed in the young man's company.

"I have served the Niwa's for 50 years, after pledging my life to Nakatane's father."

Gengyo whistled through his teeth, impressed by such a number – it was even longer than he had been alive.

"Ah, this way."

The old man corrected him, as he was about to turn right down the new corridor, but instead they were to continue on.

After a short time longer, they arrived at a small set of sliding doors – deceptively so – for once they opened it, a sizeable dojo - with beautifully polished wooden floorboards – came into view.

Without a word, the old man slipped out of his tabi, and slowly put them to one side. He moved purposefully, but slowly, as though he was taking part in an age-old tradition.

The young man beside him deemed it appropriate to do the same, and attempted to copy the tranquillity with which the old man moved.

They stepped inside. Jikouji moved to the corner of the room, where a row of bokkon were held neatly in a stand.

He withdrew two, before handing one to Gengyo, who was hovering a short distance away.

As soon as the younger man's fingers wrapped themselves around the smooth wood, a strike was sent toward his head. This was no warning, and it travelled with a terrifying swiftness.

Thoroughly caught off guard by such a strike, he barely managed to stumble backwards out of its path, but as a result he landed hard upon his bottom.

"What the hell old man?! Wasn't that a bit dangerous?"

The sudden strike had flustered him, and he forgot to show Jikouji the proper amount of respect.

"The way of the warrior waits for no man."

Came the curt response, as he resumed his stance, allowing Gengyo to his feet.

"Way of the warrior? I never claimed to be a warrior…"

The young man protested.

But the grace period had already ended, and before he could resume an upright position, a perfectly straight downward strike was sent in an attempt to spill the juices of his head.

A little more prepared for such an attack this time, he blocked the strike with a single arm on his bokken. But one arm was not enough to negate the force completely, and the wood still rebounded off his head at a decent speed.

"We are not what we claim to be, rather we are the picture formed by our actions."

Gengyo rubbed his head furiously, trying to ease the pain quickly so that he could focus. He did not know the intent of the old man, but he sure as hell would not suffer a beating freely.

"I'm not certain I agree with that philosophy of yours, old man. The emperor is born the emperor, is he not? His actions held no part in his birth."

He offered a strike of his own to punctuate his point, lunging deeply, using the full extent of his reach.

Jikouji turned side-on, allowing such a strike to easily slip past him, and in the meantime, he slashed toward one of the outstretched arms that had yet to retract, solidly hitting the meat of Gengyo's forearm.

"Arghh!"

The young man grunted in pain, dropping his sword almost immediately.

His opponent showed no hint of guilt, and instead chose to refute the earlier statement.

"An emperor that does not act like an emperor will soon be a dead emperor."

Gengyo grimaced, deciding to concede the point as he reached down for his sword.

"Fine, let's say that philosophy is viable. But how does that serve as an excuse for striking me before I was ready?"

His sword was quickly struck from the loose grip in which he was holding it, and it fell to the floor with a clatter.

"A warrior must train, and be willing to suffer."

The younger man tutted, feeling as though he was holding a different conversation to the old man in front of him.

"As I said, I'm not a warrior, nor would I like to be."

This time Jikouji did not wait for him to pick up his sword, and instead struck toward him, despite him being unarmed.

Panicking upon seeing the solid wood that was being sent toward his ribs, Gengyo darted backwards, putting even further distance between him and his sword.

His opponent was not so forgiving however, as he chased after him, speaking as he did so.

"You think you can kill and remain unchanged? That is the height of ignorance – you must honour the dead."

Gengyo gritted his teeth, finally realizing the meaning behind this. Still, he had no sword in his hand to fight back with, and he was being driven even further across the room by the old man's furious onslaught.

"How is that honouring the dead?"

He tried to step around the old man – now that he had reached the wall of the room – so that he could retrieve his sword.

His attempt was cut short by the shaft of Jikouji's weapon. The wind was forced out of his lungs, and he collapsed to the floor like a trampled balloon.

"You are letting them know that they died at the hands of a warrior, and therefore with honour."

He struggled to get up, though was only able to crawl on his hands and knees as he struggled for breath.

"They… don't… deserve… respect…"

He managed to force out in a voice that was all but a whisper.

A merciless strike to his back forced him back to the floor.

"False. It is our duty to show them that honour."

This time he did not move until he had recovered fully. And then, he scrambled to his feet in haste, sprinting past Jikouji, and throwing himself toward his weapon.

The old man watched all this without a hint of a reaction, almost making Gengyo feel foolish.

"Why?"

He closed the distance and struck from overhead, aiming for the top of the old man's skull. His strike was sent sideways by a casual tap of the old man's sword, and a turned foot found its way into his gut, before a second strike spun round and clattered again his temple, sending the young man collapsed on his back to the floor.

"The gods chose to protect you and your family. You must show them that they saved an honourable man. If the wind had been but a bit stronger, your arrow might have missed."

Gengyo lay on his back, his grasp still on his sword. His head bounced with a dizziness, and a trickle of blood ran down his nose.

"You must come to terms with the fact that you have taken lives. And no matter who they are, in your heart you should grant them honour."

Still feeling dizzy, he unsteadily moved to his feet, using his free hand to wipe the blood that was trickling down from his nose and onto his upper lip.

"What… happens then?"

He did not attack this time, and merely stood in his stance stoically as he gave his reply.

"Then, you will have understood the foundation of bushido, and what it means to be a samurai."

He charged in, yet this time Gengyo was ready for him, and blocked the sideward strike. Unfortunately, he was totally unprepared for the elbow that found its way to his stomach as the old man closed the gap before knocking the sword from his grasp, and kicking him to the floor.

"I am not a servant. I am a samurai that serves under the Niwa. By birth and by heart that is my rank."

He crawled toward his bokken that was a few metres away, and carefully got to his feet, wary of any cheap strikes.

"Then, what do you mean by telling me all this?"

"The master has placed trust in you. You must carry yourself with the heart of a samurai, least you let him down."

"The master has been good to be me. But what is it you say that I must do? Walk the path of a warrior? How?"

The old samurai lunged forward, slashing toward Gengyo's neck. He countered it lightly, swinging his sword in preparation to block the next strike, leaving them at a stalemate, with their swords locked against each other.

"Investigate the matter of Bushido daily, and come to terms with your status as a warrior, and take responsibility for those whose deaths you have caused. A samurai must also dedicate part of his day in grasping the long and short sword."

"And in doing that, I will repay my debt to Niwa-san?"

He pushed hard against the old man, ending their deadlock, and slashing toward his side.

Such a strike was easily blocked by the old man however.

"No, but it is a start."

Similarly, Gengyo blocked his strike also.

"Then that is what I will do."

He began a series of attacks of his own, aiming high above the old man's head – but lightly – before hurrying into a strike toward his side that was easily blocked, and then, he mimicked Jikouji's move from earlier, and sent a spinning kick toward his stomach.

The old man twisted to the side, barely avoiding the kick, but Gengyo regained his balance faster, and quickly struck down on his sword, hard, sending it flying from his grasp.

It clattered loudly across the wooden floor, as the old samurai looked toward his empty hands with surprise, and then a flicker of a smile emerged as he looked toward the younger man.

"You learn quickly young man. If you master your mind, and heart, then it would be my honour to serve young Nakatane alongside you."

He bowed lightly toward Gengyo, indicating his respect.

The younger man reciprocated by bowing deeper, showing even greater respect.

"Will you teach me the sword, Jikouji-san? There is much that I have to learn."

He shook his head lightly.

"The sword is a spiritual pursuit, as well as a martial one. I can teach you strikes, but not the meaning behind them. It is up to you to find your own sword style. Though I will oversee your training from time to time, to make sure that you are not deviating from the path."

"That's good enough for me."

Came the response of a grinning Gengyo.

It was only then – now that the adrenaline had begun to wear off – that he started to feel the bruises, and winced slightly.

The old man noticed this and laughed.

"Haha, worry not. You'll be right as rain in a few days."

He then retrieved both their swords, and stored them away neatly on the rack, before exiting the room and gently closing the door behind them.

"You can come and train in here whenever you wish, though you might find more meaning in training elsewhere. I have matters to attend to now, I recommend that you go and see your family. They're in the third servant building from the gate."

Gengyo bowed again toward the departing Jikouji.

"Thank you very much."

Chapter 34: The Importance of Family

'A warrior, huh?'

Gengyo thought to himself as he walked toward the row of servant bungalows.

It was not a path he had ever wanted to pursue, but then he supposed he might have been a little naïve in his thinking. How would one be able to live a peaceful life if they were unable to protect themselves and their family?

How could you do everything necessary to defend your tranquillity – including the act of killing – without adopting the mindset of a warrior?

Of course, he did end up taking his first life yesterday, but he had not had time to properly consolidate such an event. He knew it had altered his psyche slightly – a few bricks were taken out of an otherwise stable structure – but he did not know how to address such problems.

It was rarely a situation a modern man would have to deal with, aside from perhaps soldiers. Though some never seemed to come to terms with that act, and developed psychological issues.

In following the path of a warrior, he hoped he might find the answers that modern people could never provide.

For that, he was grateful for Jikouji's lesson, though he supposed his motive was not simply to help him. He was more inclined toward cultivating something within him that might better serve the master.

His ruminating was interrupted by a servant girl carrying a tray of empty dishes, whose mind seemed to be elsewhere. She failed to see where the porch had ended, and stepped off without anticipating the drop.

The result was a little bit of chaos.

She dashed about, incredibly flustered and embarrassed by her clumsiness. Seeing as though it was right in front of him, Gengyo helped out, handing her two of the wooden bowls that had rolled away.

"Thank you."

She bowed lightly – her face a deep shade of red – and hurried to leave.

The young man stopped her, feeling a little guilty about doing so.

"Do you by any chance know where the Miura family is staying?"

A hint of recognition passed over her face, as she looked him up and down, only seemingly taking note of his appearance just then.

"Ah… uhm, your mother and sister are in the bathhouse, and uhm… your father and brother are behind the third bungalow, sitting in the garden."

"A bath, eh? Well, thank you."

He bowed lightly in return to her, and moved toward the building she had pointed out.

When he rounded the corner of the back of the bungalow, he noticed them instantly. They were sitting on a stone bench in the peaceful garden, observing the salmon swimming in the small pond and sharing idle conversation.

He approached them quietly, before speaking up from right behind them.

"Hello."

"Ah!" Was the all but simultaneous response.

They turned round to identify their assailant, and smiles soon formed quickly.

"Haha, it's Tadakata, eh? All in one piece, that's good to see."

His father spoke jovially, patting his shoulder roughly.

"All in one piece, but still bruised. Brother, where did you get that wound on your head?"

Gengyo laughed away his concern, simply happy to be reunited with them after the trials of last night and today.

"Haha, well you know how it is sleeping in a cage. But it's all sorted now – master Niwa is a good man."

"Aye, he's certainly got guts. Him declaring war on Toda like that. Gets my blood pumping it does – that's what a samurai has got to be like."

Masaatsu was a little more reserved in his evaluation.

"He is certainly a good man… but I cannot help but worry. It is well known that Toda has mercenaries under his command. Do we really stand a chance?"

He smiled at his brother, respecting his worry, but carefully setting him at ease.

"Do not fret, brother, Niwa-san let me sit in on his planning – we'll be fine."

He squinted, as though trying to see through the pretence behind such words, but he seemingly found none, and instead did as his father had, and patted his younger brother on the shoulder.

"If you say so brother, then I'll trust it. But do not forget that we are here too – you do not need to shoulder any burden alone."

Though he had said nothing, Masaatsu had guessed that his younger brother had some sort of role in what was about to transpire. Such was the man his little brother had become, that he could even stand beside samurai and not look out of place.

"I have no doubt brother, and I will definitely need your help. We must find time to polish our bowmanship together before the battle."

"Hah? Did you youngins forget the man that defeated the demon Kyougoku unarmed?"

"Haha, of course, you will be needed too father – the master needs every man he can get, and I do not doubt that he will be glad to have you in his service."

The old man nodded seriously, twice, before bursting out in laughter, and pulling his son into a bear hug, slapping him vigorously on the back.

"Ahahaha, I'm glad nothing happened to you kid, you're a good lad."

"You too, dad."

Through the suffocating lock of the hug, he managed to squeeze out an additional question.

"So mother and Rin are bathing, then?"

He was released at that, as his father took great delight in explaining what had transpired.

"They wouldn't let us in without bathing and changing our clothes haha – we are quite the mess. I'm sure they're enjoying the bathing arrangements of a samurai mansion, eh? I'm quite looking forward to it too."

"We'll be able to go once they return, little brother. We've each been given a clean set of clothes to change into as well."

"Hoh... It seems we have even more to thank the master for."

"My thoughts were the same. Even the servants that dealt with us – despite pointing out that we needed to wash – did not show too much disrespect, and acted as though we are equals. It seems as though they took the master's earlier speech to heart."

"Mm… I'm happy to hear that."

…

…

A short while later, after a period of idle conversation, they were interrupted by a lively Rin who spotted Gengyo upon rounding the corner, and ran up with arms spread to give him a hug.

"Nii-san! You're alright!"

The young man quickly dodged her embrace, and held her back with his palm.

"Careful Rin, you'll get your new clothes dirty."

She pouted lightly, pretending to resist.

"It's fine! C'mon Tadakata…"

"Haha, you look pretty, little sister."

Her skin was a light pink from the heat of the water, and her previously bloodied hair was cleaned vigorously, and was shining once more. She was dressed in a new, dark grey kimono, with a matching obi around her waist. Looking at her now, none could guess that she was of peasant origin.

She shamelessly did a little spin to show off.

"Do you think so?"

"I'm of the same opinion – you look like a samurai's daughter, Rin."

Masaatsu agreed.

"Hoho, if she's a samurai's daughter, then does make you a samurai's wife, my dear Fuku-chan?"

Fuku bashfully accepted her husband's compliments, whilst attempting to stay from his grasp as not to soil her freshly washed skin and clothes.

They had to all but drag him toward the bathhouse in the end.

…

...

The time passed quickly as they enjoyed the heated water of the bathhouse, sharing idle conversation.

The tall and handsome Masaatsu was the perfect image of a young samurai, and a few of the servant girls blushed as he passed, adorned into his new kimono.

That was not to say the change in Gengyo's and Morohira's appearance was any poorer, as they were able to walk with their heads held high.

The rooms that they were given were clean, and fairly new as well. Their father had rolled upon the fresh tatami, exclaiming how bouncy it was, and it did not take Rin long to drop her newfound ladylike disposition, and hasten to do the same.

Fuku felt awkward seeing the food that was brought to them, as usually she was the one to do the cooking. Too much hospitality could leave one feeling uncomfortable, but after the enthusiastic dining of her fellow family members, she soon joined in.

They spoke long until darkness began to reign, for there was much to speak about.

Their life had been the very epitome of chaos since late last night, but thanks to Niwa's generosity, they had been able to come out of it rather well.

Gengyo carefully took note of their smiling faces, and hardened his resolve. He decided, for definite, that he would do as Jikouji said, even if it was only for the express purpose of paying back the master, it was certainly worth it.

Talk began of the war, and the smiles started to fade. The youngest son did his best to assure them that every effort was being made to ensure their victory, but it still could not be helped that they held doubts.

When the meal had concluded, he excused himself, and headed toward the gate.

He saw the flickering of a guard's torch coming toward him in the distance, and hurried himself behind a building, thinking that it might be better if he was not seen.

He heard the sound of retreating footsteps, and the glare of the torchlight grew dimmer, he then headed toward the gate, which was slightly ajar as usual.

He briefly wondered whether he was wasting his time, for given all that had transpired, it would be almost impossible for Akiko not to catch wind of it.

He imagined she would be rather joyful now, since the marriage that she had so detested had been called off. And he dared not blame her, after seeing her potential spouse in person. He could quite comfortably say – even after his 40 years – that Toda Naoyori was one of the worst people he had met.

But seeing that was as it was, he wondered whether she would still seek to escape the confines of the mansion's walls, in order to feel the freedom of the forest.

Though he needed not have worried. Right beside the mansions gates, leaning against a pillar, he saw the outline of a woman.

"Even when war is on the horizon, the lady still fears nothing."

She perked up at his words, seemingly surprised.

'He came…'

She thought to himself, as she looked at him up and down. He seemed like a different man now, even the air about him had changed.

His short hair was pushed back, with a small topknot sitting on top, and his jaw was fastened tightly shut, with a playful smile sitting on his lips.

But there was something more fearsome about him now, something sharper. She almost dared not to speak.

"Miura-kun…"

Was all she could manage to get out.

"Aye, it's me. Shall we?"

He offered his back for her to climb on, but she shook her head.

"It's feeling a little better today, so I think I might try walking awhile."

He nodded, still smiling.

"That sounds like a good idea. But don't push yourself too much, as you'll only prolong your recovery."

"Okayyy."

She began walking ahead with a slight limp, proving that she was able, before turning back with a look that told him to hurry up.

"Aren't we in a good mood today? Well, I suppose it's natural after what happened. You're finally free, eh?"

Chapter 35: A Friend

"Do you ever look at the reflections across the water and see all the different things your mind can imagine?"

Came the question from Gengyo's left, after they'd been sitting in a peaceful quiet at the lakeside for a few minutes.

"Hmm? I'm not quite sure what you mean – show me if you like."

"Okay. Look over there, you see how the willow tree reflects off the water?"

"I do."

"As the water ripples, the shape changes, and your mind sees all sorts of different things."

"Hmm..."

He focused his gaze on the spot she had mentioned, staring intently at the branches of the tree that were swaying across the water.

He did so for a little while, and was about to tell her that he could not see anything, but finally some part of his brain offered a different interpretation, and the swirling mass of branches created a larger shape. The small parting within the branches looked to be a huge open mouth, and the branches around it formed the shape of a giant head.

"A whale."

"A whale..? Ohh, I see it too. I've only ever seen them in books, but they're said to be really big."

"Indeed. What did you see?"

"A man dying. Do you see how the branches stick out? It looks like someone on their back, reaching toward the sky."

"Hoh… I see it. A rather grim interpretation though."

The squawking of a pair of angry swans interrupted their conversation. It appeared there might be a fight, but neither of them wished to be the first to engage.

'Swans are one of the most beautiful creatures in the wild, but in the end, they're subject to rage just like the rest of us.'

It ended with one swan flying a little ways away, and landing gracefully on the clear surface of the pond. It held its head high, and moved regally as though nothing had happened at all.

"Hey, Miura-kun?"

"Mhm?"

"Did you really kill those men?"

He responded unhesitantly.

"I did."

"I see…"

She broke off into silence.

"There is something more you want to say, is there not?"

She nodded, but struggled to find the words.

"There is something… different about you now."

"Hoh, you're quite the perceptive one. I do feel a little changed."

"Is it not weird, to have that on your mind, that you have taken a life?"

"It is. But it would have ended the same, for the war with the Oda is all but guaranteed."

"No… It's different – I think – to kill on the battlefield, and to kill outside of your home."

"I would imagine you're right, though I've never been on a battlefield."

"But there's something… I don't know, perhaps 'sharper', about you now."

"Sharper, eh? Do you mean you're intimidated by me?"

He turned and made her bear the full weight of his gaze.

She met it unflinchingly, and shook her head.

"No, not of you. You're a good person, Miura-kun."

"Hoh… I wouldn't go as far as to say that, but I appreciate your kind evaluation."

"You know, I was watching today."

"What were you watching?"

"When that scumbag Toda came in, and was insulting father. It was strange seeing you stand next to him."

"I imagine it was. It's not every day that a peasant is allowed to stand alongside a samurai."

"No, that's the weird part. You didn't look out of place, even though you were dressed as you were."

"Did I not? Perhaps that's only in your eyes, because you know me. I imagine the other observers could not bear to see me so close to the master."

"Maybe…"

The conversation went cold once more, and Gengyo reclined further back on the woollen blanket that Akiko had laid out, complimenting the full moon for its brightness.

It felt strange to see the ducks asleep. Though he supposed that he'd seen it before. Still, he wondered about their sleeping schedule, for they seemed to never sit still throughout the day, whereas a cat would happily lie about for a long time.

A sleeping duckling drifted a little away from its family, edged on by the lake's current. It was a comical sight to see it open its eyes and swim madly to re-join its kin.

"Hey, Miura-kun."

"Hmm?"

"I think, I don't want to die."

He turned his head at the odd statement, evaluating the mouth that had uttered them, and the lips that sat slightly ajar revealing a top row of pearly white teeth.

"I imagine not. I don't particularly wish to die either."

"Mm… But, in the end, we'll most likely die in a few days' time. I wonder if I'll be able to deal with that."

"That's a bit pessimistic. We have a very good chance of winning – the odds are not stacked too highly against us. You need to stay strong, Niwa-san. I think you'll find that your father has an important role for you in the battles to come."

"My father? What? How do you know that? There's no way."

"Just a hunch. Anyway, I imagined you'd be feeling a little happier upon being freed from such a marriage. I have to say, your future husband wasn't exactly a charmer."

She giggled at his blatant understatement.

"That's for sure… And I am happy. I just feel a little sad when I think about how it might all end soon."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much. Your father will do his best for the sake of victory. He's got Jikouji and Ishiyama to help him out too, so I reckon he'll be fine."

"I hope so… I forgot that you'd met Jikouji. He's such a sweet old man – he's like having a grandpa."

"Haha…"

He laughed grimly, thinking sweet was not exactly the word he would use, especially after he ran a finger along the hefty bruise that stained his forehead.

"Will this continue, Miura-kun?"

"What do you mean by this?"

"Our time by the lakeside, together."

"Would you like it to?"

She pouted. That was not the response that she had wanted to hear.

"Are we friends?"

"Friends with the lady Niwa? I would never presume to be so lucky. But if that is an offer, my lady, then I would bid that you call me by my given name, Tadakata, and we might solidify such a friendship."

"There you go again, teasing me… but…"

She blushed lightly, causing Gengyo to feel a certain amount of nostalgia, recalling how fiercely she had blushed when they had first met.

"Tadakata-kun… you have to call me Akiko too."

"Sure, Akiko-chan."

She looked a little upset at how easily he was able to call her by her first name, and she wondered whether to even bother to correct his teasing.

'But he'll keep calling me that in future if I don't tell him to stop…'

She reasoned, dreading such a thought.

"Not –chan!"

"Fine. Akiko-kun."

She sighed, figuring it was the best she could put up with. And it was not as though it was inappropriate anymore, for even though she was the daughter of a samurai, she very much felt – especially in recent times – that they were equals.

"Well then, Akiko-kun, how about this, in response to your earlier question, why don't we postpone out next meeting until after we have won the battle? You see, I'm not too fond of that pessimistic attitude of yours, and even if I have to take on the whole army myself, I'll make sure to prove you wrong."

She giggled, but was a little saddened by his response. Though she knew it was not done out of ill will, rather done out of the hope that there would indeed be a future for them.

Still, she could not help but think that this would be their last time together, should they lose the battle in a few days' time.

"You're thinking something miserable again, aren't you?"

"No…"

She was evidently lying, and they both smiled, knowing full well that he was right.

"It is a pleasant location, though. Very pleasant indeed."

"That's true. It's a shame you had to come and spoil it when you did – now all the birds are flying away."

She joked lightly.

"And yet the swan still remains."

They both knew full well which swan he was referring to.

He got to his feet and moved toward the water, lightly dipping a finger in, feeling the cool sensation against his skin. He ventured in the whole palm, and pushed it through the liquid, feeling the way in which the water resisted.

It was extremely pleasant to focus all of one's mind on such a peaceful task, as he tried his best to remember the sensation before he lost it for the next few days.

He did not realize how attached he had become to such a place, and the significance it had started to bear for him.

"You're such a child, Tadakata-kun."

Akiko commented lightly, seeing him splashing in the water.

He afforded her a carefree smile, motioning for her to do the same.

She stood up, moving to his side, watching his motion in the water, before attempting to mimic it on her own.

Instantly she understood why he had such a satisfied smile on his face. The coolness of the water was an anchor that kept her in the moment, and allowed her to fully enjoy everything about it.

A mallard picked up his green head, and stared at them condescendingly, as he went about all his duck activities.

"We're even being looked down on by birds now."

Gengyo commented.

"At least he didn't say anything out loud."

A quack a split second lately immediately invalided her statement, and the two burst out into a fit of laughter, thoroughly frightening the old duck.

They took their time to enjoy themselves at the lake, both realizing that it could be their last, and then they began the slow walk through the forest, back toward the mansion.

After warming her foot up a little, Akiko was walking much better now, so their stroll was peaceful.

"The smell of the forest after a hot day is so pleasant. I wish I could wear it as a perfume."

"It is indeed. Though I think you might have all manner of insects chasing after to you if you were covered in the scent of the forest."

"Haha, that might be a way of defeating Toda!"

"I'll make sure to mention it to the master, haha."

"I do like the scent the forest has after rain too. It smells so fresh and peaceful."

"I would hasten to agree with you. I rarely hear people commenting on it, so for a while I thought it was only me who could smell it."

Such was the idle conversation they shared, and before long the mansions gates loomed into view.

They slowed down to a pace that was all but a crawl, as neither wanted to leave here, and face the future.

Akiko's words grew few, and she grew tenser than she had before.

Gengyo thought he knew the reason for such behaviour, and refrained from commenting.

That was, until, just as he was about to enter the gate, he felt a pulling on his arm that made him stop.

A split second later a small pair of arms found themselves around his back, and a pretty little face was pressed into his chest, her eyes closed tight.

He was caught off guard by such action, but a moment later, he smiled, and returned her embrace, understanding how she felt.

"Please… Tadakata-kun… stay safe. You promised we would go back to the lake together, so you have to okay?"

"Mhm, I understand."

A few droplets of tears squeezed themselves from her closed eyes as she freed herself from his cradle, and hurried through the gates of the mansion before he could respond.

He watched her silhouette fade, and smiled lightly, clenching his fist.

'We'll win. I'll make sure of it.'

Chapter 36: An Unexpected Responsibility

"Nii-san, wake up! Everyone is going already."

Rin came in to wake a rather sleepy Gengyo, who was catching up after spending the previous night inside a cage.

"Mmm… Where are they going?"

He rubbed his eyes sleepily, not quite sure what was going on.

She sighed at his lack of awareness, but dutifully explained.

"We have to go to the market square to train with the rest of the villagers and servants – that's what the old man servant said."

"Jikouji?"

"Mhm, that's him."

He pulled himself from beneath his covers, and shrugged on his new kimono, shaking away the last remnants of sleep.

He, Masaatsu and Rin had been sharing one room, whilst another was used by Fuku and Morohira, and the last was used as a dining area. It was a little cramped with the three of them, but his siblings were careful not to wake him as they went about their business.

By now all the food in the dining room had been cleared away, and by the looks of it there had been a couple of tasty dishes. However, all that remained were two rice balls, but the young man did not utter a single complaint as he picked them up, and followed his family out the door.

Immediately Morohira was there to poke fun at him for oversleeping.

"There he is! Sleep well did ya princess?"

"It was very pleasant. How was your sleep, grandad?"

"Granddad…"

Masaatsu was smiling at their banter, looking as refined as ever in his new outfit.

And Fuku was fussing about them being on time.

"We better get going…"

She kept reminding them. But it took Rin's assertion for any movement to finally happen.

"Hurry up you slow toads! We're going to be late."

And then she marched authoritatively on ahead, toward the wide-open mansion gates.

"Slow toads…"

Morohira and Gengyo shared a glance, running the word over in their heads. Almost simultaneously they decided that they were not terribly fond of it, and made haste to overtake Rin.

She seemed wise to their antics however, and ploughed on even more aggressively ahead.

Masaatsu and Fuku were left in the dust shaking their heads at such foolishness so early in the morning.

The courtyard had long since been empty, and the Miura's seemed to be the last family to leave.

Just as they were about to pass through the gate, a shout rang out behind them.

"Oi! Miura-kun!"

They turned around as one, for it was a name they shared, and to their surprise they saw the panting figure of Nakatane jogging toward them.

He neared them, and rested with his hands on his knees, breathing wildly.

"Where… Were you?"

They all knew who the question was directed at, though it was never specifically mentioned.

"Asleep, Niwa-san. I did not realize you had need of me."

"Asleep, is it..? And where… are you going now?"

Gengyo raised an eyebrow, as he thought that much was obvious.

"Toward the market square, like all the other people."

A prompt smack on the top of his head determined whether that was the correct reply.

"You buffoon, you're a bow ashigaru, why would you be attending yari training?"

"Oh… so that's what it was."

"Correct. Now, tell me again, where are you going?"

"I'm not sure… I've passed the test, so perhaps to training?"

He raised his hand as though to smack him again, and the young man flinched in response, but he was made to look foolish as the hand continued onwards toward his own head, which he then scratched.

"What's the matter with you lad, got a twitch?"

Gengyo could tell that he was struggling to stop himself from smiling, and that question was by no means genuine, so he – in a futile attempt to retain his dignity – chose to ignore it.

"But as a matter of fact, you are wrong, again. There are currently 30 men waiting at the archery range behind my house. You're going to go there, and evaluate your future comrades."

None of the Miura family looked surprised when they heard that Gengyo had made it into the bow ashigaru. After the demonstration of his skill that night, in their hearts, they had all but confirmed that he would enter.

Still, they did not expect him to be admitted so soon, and to have skipped the test was unheard of. But of course they did not know what he was up to yesterday morning.

"Oh, in that case, can I bring my brother along? He wants to try out for the bow ashigaru to."

The young man pointed toward his older brother, who received the gaze of Nakatane with a stoic expression etched upon his face, and with a light bow to demonstrate his respect.

Internally, Nakatane nodded vigorously with the approval. The young man was in his mannerisms and appearance far ahead of that of the majority of samurai youth.

"Very well. Young man, follow your brother to the archery grounds. I have a matter to attend to, and then I will be with you shortly."

He then turned on his heel to leave, and headed toward one of the other buildings that were scattered across the mansions vast grounds.

Gengyo bid farewell to his family.

"Well, I suppose I'll see you later then. Have fun with training!"

"But me and mum aren't going to be training…"

Rin corrected. The women were told to attend for a different reason.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure."

Furrowing her eyebrows at his cryptic words, she went quiet.

Morohira used that opportunity to hurry things forward, as they were already extremely late.

"Well, good luck with your test Masaatsu".

"Yup, good luck, Masaatsu!"

Fuku joined in.

His accepted their best wishes with a small smile, feeling rather nervous about the whole affair. But soon his family were heading down the road into the village, and he was left to follow his younger brother as he felt the pressure mounting.

Gengyo skirted around the outside of the building, heading towards the grounds that he knew would be beyond. As soon as they rounded the corner, and the first sumo ring loomed into sight, they could already see a group of nervous-looking men.

They stood hovering near the archery range, some evaluating the distance to the targets, and others merely standing still, trying to still the quickness of their racing hearts.

There were none that he recognised amongst the 30, but there were a good amount who seemed to recognise him. They looked Gengyo and Masaatsu up and down with wonder, trying to figure out exactly what good fortune had been thrown their way for them to be dressed so lavishly.

Most in the village had given him up as dead after they heard the news of the murders. And when they saw Toda galloping away with his men in tow, his death had all but been confirmed.

Yet here he was, with his brother beside him, looking better than he ever had in his life.

A series of murmurs passed round, and before long a youth who was a little older than Gengyo stepped forward and posed a question.

"Are you both here for the ashigaru test?"

It seemed like a silly question, but given how they were dressed, no one could be sure. He did not exude confidence as he asked it either, and stood stiffly, his voice on the point of quivering.

"He is, I'm just watching."

That raised even more mutterings as they wondered why someone who was not taking the test would be able to simply stand there and watch. It was a mandatory requirement for all who were not in the bow ashigaru to endure yari training.

The brothers ignored them as they shared a quiet conversation, with Gengyo pointing out features of interest within the training area, as Nakatane had done with him the day prior.

It took a further ten minutes before the master showed himself, strolling into the training area idly.

"Miura-kun."

"Yes?"

"Why haven't you started?"

"Pardon?"

"I asked you to take over the exam, did I not?"

"I don't think so-"

"Well, you were complaining about the test yesterday. So why don't you show me what a better test looks like?"

"Right now? With no preparation?"

"Exactly. Good luck. I'll be watching from over here."

Nakatane did exactly as he said, and moved to sit on the porch, arranging himself so comfortably that it looked as though he had been sat there all morning.

Gengyo rubbed his temples. The master was a hard man to keep up with. He wasn't sure whether he was simply over evaluating his ability, or whether he expected everyone around him to be able to read his mind. Either way, he had made an affirmation the previous day, and did not plan to break it so quickly.

Instead, he turned to his fellow peasants who were staring at him wide-eyed, wondering how on earth he was able to interact with the master so freely.

He opened his mouth to speak, but could not stop the sigh that came out first.

"…As you know, I am Miura Tadakata. Yesterday, I took the bow ashigaru test, and now today, it seems I will be overseeing you as you take yours."

"Now, I imagine you're all quite familiar with the procedure, as it is not exactly classified information. But today, we're going to switch it up a little."

He paused briefly as he wondered just how he was going to switch it up, and then he decided he would simply evaluate them based on his own training routine.

"Okay. You will shoot at ranges of 50 paces, 75 paces, and 100. You will get one shot at each range. The three ranges will be worth 1, 2 and 3 points respectively, providing you hit the target. No extra points will be awarded for securing the bullseye."

He glanced around the yard, and spied the gong that he had seen yesterday. It had a large log that served as a striker, and such a log was strung up by two sets of thick twine, and when allowed to, it would oscillate freely. He chose that to hold the target for the motion test.

"There will also be a motion test. You will have the same ranges, but the targets will be moving. Each hit will be worth three times the points. In order to pass this test you need eight points. Does everyone understand?"

As ever, his public speaking skills were impeccable, and he showed not the slightest hint of nervousness, and even passed his gaze along the row of men before him, inviting them into the discussion.

The young man from earlier stuck his hand up.

"Yes?"

"What if less than ten people pass?"

The pessimistic question reflected his confidence entirely, and even the coldest man might feel a little bad for him.

But Gengyo did not afford him any raft to cling on to. He wanted all the participants to do their best, without any kind of safety net.

"Then I will be very disappointed."

Nakatane was watching the proceedings intently, though he tried his best to be casual. If you looked closely, the smallest hint of a smile could be seen on his face, trying its best to breakthrough.

"I should be over here…"

Masaatsu, of his own accord, walked over to where the rest of the participants were standing, before looking toward his brother expectantly.

Gengyo acknowledged his decision with the briefest of nods, before assuming his role as the bow ashigaru examiner.

"Alright then, let's get started."

He pointed toward the man who was closest to the range, and gestured for him to step up to the mark.

There was a bow, and a quiver of arrows lying ready against a stand, and he took them up with shaking fingers.

Chapter 37: Yumi Ashigaru Exam

Gengyo did not make an attempt to still the man's nerves as he looked toward him, wondering if he should begin.

"Go whenever you're ready."

He nocked the arrow unsteadily, and took aim. His form was poor, and his focus was off, but by some miracle the arrow managed to pin itself into the very edge of the 50 pace target.

The man glanced toward him once more, this time smiling, clearly gleeful at securing the first shot.

"Good. One point secured. Next target."

He moved to the 75 pace range, a little more confident than before. He was able to calm his nerves this time, and correct his form.

The arrow flew more purposefully, and secured itself within the soft straw target.

"Two more points. Three points in total. Next target."

The rest of the men watched on, looking tense. They knew that it would be them soon, and whilst they didn't especially want to see someone be humiliated, they did not want anyone to do well either, for that would lower their own chances of passing.

The same man attempted the hundred pace range – a range that very few of them had trained at – and missed by a good distance, but still he walked away feeling rather pleased with himself.

"Need to get 5 points on the motion one… then I'm in."

His buddy congratulated him with a slap on the shoulder, before stepping up to the line next, feeling the added pressure of his friend doing well and not wanting to be the one to fail.

It was only then that Gengyo realized he'd made an oversight. Whilst he was confident in his memory, it was still a push to record the points of 31 people. That, if simplified to its fullest, was at least 31 digits, and the maximum capacity of the average human's short term memory was said to be 7.

He did not want to risk it.

He turned to his brother for assistance.

"Brother. Remember this man's points for a moment. I need to speak with Niwa-san."

Masaatsu nodded without complaint.

He then apologised to the man who was about to fire.

"Sorry, I will be away for a few moments, but you can start whenever you like. Good luck."

He patted him on the shoulder, before turning his back on the events that would unfold behind him, and walked toward the master, who sat idly, fanning himself.

He pretended to be surprised as Gengyo drew near.

"Ah! Young Miura, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm assigning the men points. Do you have some spare sheets of paper, and possibly a pot of ink and a brush so that I might keep track of their scores?"

"Hohoh, are you suggesting that you will write their names down, Miura-kun?"

"I am."

"Do you remember when I asked you, on the eve of your father's grand fight, whether you had a teacher?"

"I do."

"Could it be, that you lied?"

"It's more complicated than that. My teacher does not exist in this world."

Put off by his curious way of phrasing, Nakatane took it to mean that his teacher had died, and ended the discussion at that.

"Ah, so that is what you meant. Very well, I will fetch you those little utensils. How cruel you are, to interrupt your master's quiet time in the shade! Alas, life is but a stream of misery."

He ended up soliloquizing alone, for Gengyo had long since thanked him with a bow, and returned back to overseeing the exam.

Nakatane stood up, and briefly watched over the young man's performance, before heaving a sigh and wandering up to his room.

By the time he returned, they had already gotten through 9 participants. It must be said of the master that when he was inclined to do so, he could move frightfully slowly, even a tortoise would have to tip his shell at his mighty lack of speed.

He hovered quietly behind Gengyo who was in the midst of giving out instructions to the next participant. The man had claimed never to have held a bow like that before, and for some odd reason was having trouble nocking, though the process itself was rather self-evident. Still, the examiner – who was almost 30 years younger than he – dutifully tough him how.

The man stood out from the rest of the participants by the air of calmness he exuded, which was second to only that of Masaatsu.

Even when he could not fathom how to nock the arrow, he did not grow flustered, nor did Gengyo grow impatient.

And as it happens, that was the right choice on the part of the younger man, as the old fellow proceeded to bring the string back with skill, and land a bullseye at both the 50 pace range and the 75 pace range, before hitting the target just short of the centre at 100 paces.

It was then that Nakatane chose to interrupt – though the other participants had long since been staring at him nervously – and offer Gengyo his stationary.

"Here you are, lad. Now I will be sitting in the shade, understood? It would be best not to disturb me."

Gengyo ignored the threat at the end, and quickly thanked him, before turning to the old archer who was still waiting by his side.

"What's your name friend?"

"Niiro."

"Niiro? 6 points. You shot well."

He wrote the man's name down on the thin washi paper as he spoke, taking care to keep his characters small. As he could not ask the man what kanji his name was spelt with – since very few peasants were able to read or write – he simply wrote down the names in hiragana.

"And you?"

He asked of the person who had gone before Niiro, who then promptly stated his name. Gengyo had memorised the number of points those few people had gathered, so that was not an issue for him.

The villagers were muttering about him being able to write, but when he glanced toward them they soon silenced.

And then they proceeded on with the testing, with Masaatsu up next.

His older brother shot well, securing one bullseye at the closest range, and hitting both of the targets at the higher ranges.

Of the first test, there was only one other participant that reached the level of Masaatsu and Niiro, and that was the youth from earlier, who had been standing for the last hour – whilst the rest were doing their tests – whispering wildly to himself, as he shivered in apprehension of the exam ahead.

When he grasped the bow however, despite still being nervous, there was a different look in his eye. Or there would have been had he kept them open.

Watching him, Gengyo was a little befuddled. He secured the right aim, but before he shot, he closed his eyes tight shut, before pulling his fingers away from the string. His lips were moving rapidly all the while, as though in prayer.

His prayers were seemingly answered, as the first shot was a perfect bullseye. He looked elated for a split second, before his shoulders drooped once more and he began to scold himself in a fit of pessimism.

"You can proceed to the next shot."

Gengyo encouraged him onwards, a little intrigued by his mannerisms.

He proceeded to the next target, his mad begging to some god or other growing furthermore intense, so much so that Gengyo could almost make out words.

And then the arrow was released, firmly puncturing the centre of the bullseye.

He went to celebrate, before swiftly stopping himself and resuming his muttering, moving on to the last target.

With this, he secured the most spectacular shot of the exam. A centremost bullseye. Even Niiro had to nod his head in respect at such an achievement, whilst the rest of the peasants – especially those that had scored poorly – looked from the target, back to the pale boy in shock.

They had all pegged him as a nonentity due to his self-deprecating mannerisms and sickly appearance. That combined with his maniacal mutterings was more than enough for them to stop paying him any attention.

The one who reacted least was the archer himself. Though, this time, he did not scold himself, so Gengyo supposed that he might be happy with such a result.

And with that young man, the first test was concluded. Gengyo later learned that his name was Kitajo.

After some fiddling with the gong, and moving it out of the way of the striker – so that the striker could swing freely – and affixing a target to the beam, they were ready for the second part of the test.

He had wondered whether the master might complain about his manhandling of the ceremonial gong, but had deemed it inappropriate to ask for permission. After all, Nakatane had expressly told him that he was not be bothered, had he not?

"So, the rules are simple. I've set up the three marks for you to stand behind – 50, 75 and 100. I will swing the striker, and from there you have three seconds to shoot. If you take longer than three seconds, then that shot no longer counts. Any questions?"

A thin arm stuck itself into the air.

"Other than what happens if less than ten people make the cut?"

And back down it slowly slithered.

"Good. Well, same order as last time. Let's get going."

The first man walked up to his mark, nervous. He drew his string, and waited for Gengyo to set the log in motion.

"Go!"

Came the shout as the striker simultaneously started moving. The man – put off by the time limit – released his arrow much too early, before he had a clear grasp for the motion of the device. And as a result, his arrow missed by a good distance.

He cursed aloud, and hurried to the next mark, intent on making up for his mistake.

This time, after the starting shout he spent a second longer, attempting to predict where the swinging log would end up. But he had not looked long enough, for the target sailed away from the path of his freshly released arrow.

And on the third shot, he spent far too long.

"Times up!"

The examiner called, putting a halt to the test.

"Fuck!"

The man cursed, slamming the bow off the floor in his frustration.

'It's so fucking unfair! Why this year?'

He thought to himself, before his rage lent him a false confidence and he spoke aloud.

"This is bullshit, kid! This test is fucking impossible! No one is ever going to be able to hit three of those in a row – especially at 100 paces. Why the fuck do we need to anyway?"

There were a few murmurs of agreement from amongst the men.

"Pass me the bow."

Gengyo walked forward, undeterred by his words.

"Eh!?"

"Give me the bow."

The man spat at his feet, before handing the bow over, thinking he was about to proceed on with the testing.

But contrary to his expectations he nocked an arrow, and to the man he turned and spoke.

"Go on then, push it."

The man looked at him doubtfully, his face still twisted in a scowl. But still, he did as he said. Who would not want to see the man fail his own test?

'He's even trying from 100 paces too – what a disgrace.'

He heaved the striker backward as far as he could, before sending it forward with all the strength he could muster. Such a force rocked the frame that was holding it up, but it managed to keep itself from collapsing.

However, the striker was moving at a vicious speed, obviously done out of spite. It was at least three times faster than what the man had to aim at.

But Gengyo did not complain, even as the man counted the seconds loudly, and instead, he narrowed his gaze, and aimed for the middle.

Chapter 38: Yumi Ashigaru Exam (2)

THUNK

Before the arrow had even hit he had already turned back around to face the participants.

"This test is nothing if not doable. Do you really think that the enemy will stand still, or walk into the path of your arrow? Folly."

They looked from him, back to the arrow sitting in the centre of the bullseye, as the target still swung back and forth. A few gulped, realising the exact calibre of the man they were dealing with – it was no wonder the master had put him in charge.

Nakatane smiled widely from behind his fan as he watched the proceedings. It was unfortunate for the village man that it was Gengyo who he had chosen to underestimate.

Gengyo then turned to glance at the man who was still standing beside the swinging striker, looking stunned. In front of 30 people he had been proven to be a fool. His skill was simply not adequate. And in throwing a fit of rage he had further dishonoured himself.

"With a total of three points you have not passed the bow ashigaru test. Next participant."

And so the man's fate was decided, as he looked around the training grounds, wondering where to go. He thought he should leave, but in the end decided to stand a ways away, so that he could wait and see how his friend had done.

The motion test was cruel in a sense, for none had been prepared to face it. But that was a fault on their own part. Instead of training to pass the test, they should have trained themselves for battle, and then the test would have been an easy accessory to accomplish.

As it happened, few managed to land an arrow, and those that did could have been said to have done it out of luck. But such was the nature of the test: difficult, but the rewards were immense.

The man's friend was the second to fail, but he accepted it with far more grace than his comrade.

Seemingly expecting such an outcome from himself, he gave a self-deprecating smile before moving to join his buddy.

The first to hit a target on the test was old man Niiro, who secured the 50 pace target without any changes in his technique. He merely waited for the target to near the centre, and shot as he normally would. At the 50 pace range this was adequate, as his accuracy with static targets was phenomenal, so he was allowed a rather large margin of error, and managed to pin his arrow in the outer rims of the target.

The same strategy was not enough to carry him through the last two targets however, and he missed those by a decent margin.

He bowed lightly toward Gengyo after he shot, awaiting judgement.

"8 points. Niiro-san, you've passed."

Though his position – at least at that current moment – was higher than that of Niiro, he would not bring himself to talk down to the man, by affording him a lesser honorific. Positions of power are often temporary after all, and it would be foolish to offend people – especially those of skill – during your reign.

The other participants who were stilled unsettled upon seeing another examinee secure a target on the motion were not given a chance to breathe, as up straight after Niiro was Masaatsu.

Gengyo watched his older brother walk up to the mark expectantly. He knew what his training had entailed – with hunting animals and the like – and was keen to see how he would perform.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

He pushed the striker as he called out the starting command.

He flinched, as a split second later an arrow pinned itself firmly into the target on the striker that had just swung near his head.

"Aha…"

He uttered a dry laugh, stilling his rapidly beating heart. He knew his brother would be accurate, but he had not expected him to be so fast.

He stepped forward a few steps, to observe the position of the arrow on the target. It was just touching the red of the bullseye. An excellent shot.

Masaatsu had not been concerned with pinpoint accuracy when training, he had merely been bothered with hitting the target, for if you were an animal, say a bird or a squirrel, if an arrow hit you at all you would be finished. It was completely unnecessary to be aiming for the eyes or the like.

The crowd gulped once more.

"They're monsters…"

"Yup, I'm guessing it runs in the family?"

He had made it look so effortless that even on the first shot all got a taste of his skill.

They moved to the 75 pace range, and yet another target was secured. This arrow landed a little further from the bullseye than the other, but it was still a respectable distance from the outer rim.

And then on the final shot, contrary to the first two shots, he paused a couple of seconds, tracing the motion of the oscillating striker with his bow, before finally, he released.

It was a flight that did not look as certain as the previous two, and upon the initial milliseconds of release, observers had deemed it certain to miss. However, just before it passed the striker, it was offered the very edge of the target.

CLAP CLAP CLAP

Niiro stood there, shaking his head wordlessly as he applauded such skill. He now knew full well the difficulty of such a shot, and it felt wrong not to pay it its due respect.

Masaatsu bowed lightly in his direction, accepting his praise.

"With a total of 18 points you have passed the bow ashigaru test. Well done, brother."

He patted his older brother on the shoulder, who attempted his usual stoicism, but could not stop the slightest slither of a smile breaking out. That soon transitioned into a full-blown grin.

"Thanks Tadakata. I'm not at your level yet, but soon… Haha."

Gengyo welcomed such competition wholeheartedly. If his brother were to outperform him in the art of the bow, he would be nothing but happy.

"You're very close. I can see your hunting has paid off."

"Yes, I suppose it has. I never thought such training practices would prove to be this helpful though. But then, I never thought my brother would be the one examining me!"

Nakatane had been observing the older sibling with interest, impressed by what he saw.

"So there's another little monster amongst that Miura family? What kind of deeds did their ancestors do to have so much talent concentrated in one place?"

He muttered to himself, listing their different skills upon his fingers, as he remembered the awe-inspiring fight between Morohira and Kyougoku.

The last participant of note was the frail-looking Kitajo, who Gengyo watched approaching with interest, wondering how he might hit moving targets whilst he shot with his eyes closed.

"Hello Kitajo-kun, are you ready?"

The tense boy looked up sharply, as though surprised to be asked such a question.

"Ah… yes."

He didn't exactly radiate confidence, but the young examiner allowed him to set up as he pleased without interfering, and instead walked toward the position of the striker.

His eyes were already closed and his bow was drawn, causing Gengyo to frown a little as he sent the striker into motion, calling out to the candidate.

He did not even open his eyes then, and instead did his routine wild muttering before releasing the arrow.

It travelled confidently, at a good speed, but in the complete wrong direction. Instead of toward the target, it seemed to be an assassination attempt as it only barely missed Gengyo by the tiniest of amounts.

He opened his eyes, and looked around, wondering where the arrow had gone. He looked like a cat that had just entered a room for the first time.

And when he saw it embedded in a plank of wood only a few centimetres from the examiners head – who was staring toward him with an eyebrow raised – he grew panicked.

"Ah! Sorry, sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to do that."

Gengyo shook his head, not holding a grudge in the least. Still, he was surprised by such inaccuracy, especially from the boy who had shot so brilliantly on the standing targets.

He waved those concerns away, and asked him to proceed to the next mark, before he pushed the striker, and this time found something to hide behind.

This time his eyes were open by the smallest amount, allowing him to see the tiniest of slithers of the world around him. He was no longer muttering, and was instead speaking quietly.

"Please, please, please let me hit the target, please, I will give you all my flavoured rice balls for a month, please, please."

Now that he had heard the contents of his begging, the young examiner wished he hadn't.

The arrow was sent, as Gengyo made sure to keep himself firmly tucked away behind his shield.

THUD

'Well, he's hit something, at least.'

He thought to himself, poking a head out to try and track it down.

To his surprise, and to that of the rest of the observers, the arrow had managed to find its way into the soft straw of the target.

He grinned upon seeing that.

'That's more like it.'

Though Kitajo was a strange lad, and his shooting style was far from conventional, he'd found himself hoping he would pass after seeing his incredible performance on the static targets. If he could learn to shoot moving targets – and perhaps with his eyes open – he would be a valuable asset in the battles to come.

He watched the boy shoot his final shot with a greater amount of expectation, and was not too disappointed as he saw it miss the target by a pretty small amount.

"10 points. Congratulations Kitajo, you've passed."

"Ah? What? But I missed?"

"Correct. But you've secured the 8 points necessary to pass."

"Oh… Oh! Ok! Thank you!"

That head of his that was inclined to a larger degree of pessimism than most finally got word of his victory, and a big smile blossomed on his face as he walked over to stand beside Masaatsu and Niiro who had also passed.

Of the rest of the participants, none was particularly impressive, but a further two managed to pass by the skin of their teeth.

And so, on Gengyo's improvised test, only 5 people had passed, meaning that they failed to meet their quota of 10 by 4 – if you included Gengyo.

The solution to that was extremely simple, as there were 4 participants that had secured 6 points.

"Since no one else managed to get 8 points, you four also pass."

He pointed to four men who had been looking rather despondent at having failed the test, cheering them up instantly.

No one dared to complain about the testings any longer, or the way the final participants were chosen. As now, it had been proven, that it was done fairly and with reason and was by no means an impossible test.

Nakatane strolled over after the rest of the candidates were sent home, and only the 10 men that would serve in his bow ashigaru were left.

They stood in a line – of which Gengyo was not part of – and he walked beside them, looking into their eyes and evaluating their reactions.

'They're certainly an interesting bunch.'

Was his final conclusion. Of course, there were a couple of normal men mixed in there, but the vast majority of those who had passed could be deemed as odd in some way. And it made sense too, for only those that had not stuck to convention had the skill set necessary to pass.

'It was a good choice to let the lad do the exam – good choice Nakatane.'

He complimented himself for his idea, and patted the lad in question on the shoulder as he did so.

Chapter 39: Yari Training

Having been awoken earlier than normal by her father, Akiko struggled to stifle a yawn as she rode atop her patient mare, amongst the guards who were heading to a training session in the centre of town.

Her father had told her that he was unable to attend, and having her go in his place would raise the morale of those training.

She hadn't protested in the slightest, as there would be nothing else for her to do that day, and if anything she was glad to be able to help.

The servants had gone on ahead, and even the guards that would be part of the bow ashigaru had been told to attend, so almost everyone in the village would be present - including all the women. That was, of course, aside from those taking the bow ashigaru test.

She recalled Gengyo mentioning something about wishing to join the bow ashigaru, and briefly considered whether or not he would be taking part in that morning's exams. She would have wished him luck with all her heart, yet she knew that was the last thing he needed. After having the privilege of watching him train, she knew the basic test that her father carried out would be a breeze.

They overtook some of the families that were running late to the training session, and they all stopped to bow in her direction. It made her feel rather awkward, but she still offered them the most genuine smile she could muster.

Though she had spent most of her life in this little village of theirs, she had rarely ventured outside the protective mansion walls, and as a result the people she saw were basically strangers to her.

"We're nearing the market place, my lady."

The guard to her left informed her, though it was something she already knew herself.

The number of people were growing, as was the noise, with the vast majority of the villagers hovering in the market square.

That is not to say that the square was too full, or that there was no space to move – quite the contrary. The square was large enough to comfortably hold a number that was even five times larger than what there were.

It grew a degree quieter when they caught sight of the beautiful Akiko sitting high on her white horse, smiling gently down at them.

She hurriedly dismounted – much to the complaint of her guards – as not to offend anyone. It was natural for most samurai daughters to feel comfortable standing higher than peasants, but that was no longer the case for her.

Since meeting Gengyo her views had developed considerably, and she no longer viewed them as separate to her, rather as a part of the same collective. This was especially the case now that they were in a time of war, and each and every one of them would have to join together if they wanted to have any hope at defeating their foes.

The villagers stared at her, wide-eyed. She did not realize just how beautiful she was. Even if they overcame the fact that she was of the samurai class, there were very few that would be willing to approach her.

She bowed deeply toward them, as the crowd of people gawked, their jaws dropping, completely thrown off guard by such a development. Small children tugged on their parent's sleeves, begging to be lifted up so they might see something other than a sea of legs.

"Let's work hard today."

They were simple enough words, but her intent was genuine, and felt by everyone present.

A certain love-struck youth in the back gave a yell, with his fist pumped into the air.

"Yeah!!!"

Much to the amusement of the crowd that soon became a rumbling sea of chuckles, even Akiko could not suppress a smile at his boldness.

But when the laughter died down, she did not let it go unmentioned.

"Thank you for your support."

With her approval, the young lad – who must have been at most fourteen – grinned widely, his previous embarrassment forgotten.

Jikouji watched on from his saddle with approval, deeming the timing to be right as he rode forward.

"Thank you for heeding the master's summons, people of Toyone."

He did not shout, but his voice carried across the open square, heard by all. With the receptiveness that Akiko had created, they were all more than willing to listen.

"Today, as you know, we will be engaging in Yari training – however, this time, things will be done a little differently."

"Instead of the women making our meals today, they will join the men in training with the spear – though it will not be to train their battle technique, it will be to train their spirit, for in the fight ahead the strength of one's spirit will play just as big a role as one's sword."

It was important that he praised it in this way. Should Toda choose to send men to attack the village in advance of the battle, he would normally send few, ten at most. Yet if he was to learn that the women would be armed, he would no doubt send much more, invalidating their strategy.

It was an idea that Gengyo had proposed in the meeting, but Jikouji had the experience necessary to make it effective.

It was well-received, and there was a certain excitement present throughout all of those present. The men were increasingly motivated enjoying the chance to show off a little to their spouses, or perhaps even to a love interest. And the women were keen to try what they had always seen the men do.

Even Akiko had not known what was to come, and was looking up at Jikouji with surprise written all over her face.

He shot her a warm smile before continuing on.

"As such, the lady Niwa will be training with us, so work hard!"

There were a few genuine cheers at that, mainly from young men, but some women joined in too, voicing the excitement that they were feeling.

And so the guards proceeded to mill through the crowd, organising the people into ranks, so that by the end there was a square of about 150 people – each with a good few metres between them and the next person – all equipped with wooden staffs that would serve as a substitute for a spear.

Those too old or too injured to fight had been helped to one side of the square, slightly away from the training, and were asked to contribute to making a meal. That was not to say that they were extraordinarily busy. There was more than enough time for them to watch over the training. It was a peaceful, pleasant affair.

Jikouji stood at the very front of the ranks of people – both guards and peasants – and waited patiently for a silence to fall.

"Good. You will do as I do – watch closely."

He performed the most basic of thrusts, but with such powerful technique. He twisted his hips, and forced his shoulder forward with aggression. A fearsome strike.

The people followed, sending out their strikes. Those that had taken part in such practices before – mainly the guards – let out a "YAH!" to complement their motion.

"Louder!"

Jikouji ordered. Shouting helped to force the breath out of the lungs in a manner that was necessary for creating a powerful strike.

"Again!"

They had struck forth three times, and by now there was a simultaneous "YAH!" sounding across the entire market swear. It was a mighty sound to behold. If an observer were to be hit with such a roar, and not feel the slightest trembling of emotion, then I do declare that such a man has long since grown cold.

Akiko approached the training with seriousness, her brow furrowed in concentration. It was a practise that she had always wished to engage in, and so she would not forgive herself if she did not give it her all.

Elsewhere amongst the crowd, there was another young lady that shared such a mindset, though hers was a more recent acquisition.

The young lady Rin – or perhaps she might be mistaken to be such, but there was never a woman to be more like a tiger than she – wielded her spear with a passion. She did not care for appearance in the least. Instead, she allowed herself to be overwhelmed by an honest desire to perform the strike until perfection.

Her mother beside her already had the beginnings of sweat forming on her brow. She was a softer sort than her daughter, but with a fearsome heart, and though she could never claim to be able to take a life, she still wished to support her family as much as she could – whatever might be asked of her.

Morohira grinned at the passion of his daughter, understanding it more than anyone else.

He believed his shout to be more fearsome than anyone's present, and his strike more perfect, wielding his spear with more vigour than three men combined.

His belief was supported by the glances of the men surrounding him that contained a hint of reverence.

"Continue."

Jikouji ordered, before walking through the ranks of people, correcting form and offering hints where he deemed necessary. He paid particular attention to Akiko, for he knew just how much this meant to her.

"Aim your point a little higher, and aim to keep your shaft perfectly horizontal."

"Like this?"

She demonstrated the strike with his improvements.

"Good."

He proceeded onwards through the crowd, wandering past the Miura family. He paused for a few seconds, observing the spirit of Morohira before shaking his head.

In his shadow he noticed a young tigress struggling to show her fearsome might. He complimented her focus, before interrupting it as he offered her improvements.

As it happens, it was much the same advice that he had given Akiko earlier. She accepted his corrections with dignity, taking not the slightest offence nor feeling her confidence ebb in the least. All that her focus allowed her to care for was improvement, and she could tell with one strike that the form in which she had just been shown was superior.

They practised the basic thrust for a good amount of time. The yari is an unwieldy weapon, and heavy, but extremely effective. Even if dulled it could pierce the thickest of armours should it have enough weight behind it.

But as the master duellist Miyamoto Mushashi once said: "They are good for the field and nothing more." Jikouji was of the same opinion, in that they were only useful in a battlefield situation due to how cumbersome they were. As such, there was no need for fancy techniques, and the single most powerful thing the future soldiers in front of him could learn was how to thrust.

'Perfect that, and you will conqueror.'

He reasoned to himself.

A few hours of thrusting passed, and the spirit of many began to die. Judging it to be time, Jikouji called for a break, and sent them to have lunch.

There were sighs of relief as they dropped the heavy yari to the ground, and dragged themselves over to the eating area.

After lunch, there was a slight change in setup.

"I have noticed when watching you all thrust, that the same mistakes are being made by many people. To make my teaching to those people easier, I will split you into groups."

He began with a point toward Akiko, who stood in the front most row.

"Lady Niwa, the point of your spear is still dipping."

She accepted what most would see as shaming with grace, nodding lightly. He had chosen her first because he had hoped she would react as she did, so that he could avoid offending anyone – and thus breaking their spirit – right off the bat.

"Young lady of the Miura family, you face the same problem. Come up here and stand beside lady Akiko, if you will."

Chapter 40: Yari Training (2)

He then pointed to a few other people - most of which being women as the problem was one caused by a lack of strength.

They were then sent to another part of the square, and told to get into partners.

"Your job as partners will be to keep watch on each other's form. If their point dips, let them know."

Jikouji explained, before leaving them to sort the pairings out amongst themselves, and returning back to the rest of the waiting villagers.

Most of the people within the group knew one another, and so they were able to quickly establish partners. Even the few men in the group did not have trouble.

Akiko, on the other hand, glanced around rapidly, trying to search for someone who would be willing to pair with her. There was an awkward smile hanging from her lips as she worried about being left till last, or without a partner at all.

Rin watched her acting like a frightened rabbit for a little while, before shaking her head, and pulling on the lady's sleeve.

"I'll go with you."

Relief passed over Akiko's face, alongside recognition as she remembered Rin's face.

"Ah, thank you Miura-kun."

She said a little breathlessly, evidently extremely pleased to have finally found a partner.

Rin did not go out of her way to make the older woman comfortable, and instead walked a distance away, setting up her stance with her wooden pole in hands.

"Ready?"

The lady adopted a more serious expression, mirroring her partner's ready position before nodding.

They both struck out at the same time, eyeing each other keenly. It was not just her form that Rin was critical of, it was everything about her.

"YAH!"

There was not a single fault in their first strike, and so they wordlessly transitioned into the second.

"YAH!"

It soon became a test of endurance, as they continued to send out strike after strike, attempting to hide their fatigue. Akiko did not know when she had begun to compete with Rin, but it certainly had not taken long for her to be influenced by the younger woman's completive air.

Under the heat of the midday sun, they were very soon glistening with sweat. But even as these salty droplets stung their eyes, they remained entirely focused, intent on not being the first to lose.

The rest of the group - who had taken several breaks already - shared glances as they stared across at the unyielding maidens who had not lowered their spear once for almost an hour.

Jikouji – who had been keeping an eye on them for a while – had a light smile on his face. He did not know quite why they had reacted to each other so strongly, but he thought that he might have some sort of inclining.

"Sorry Miura-kun, the point of your spear dipped a little too much on that last strike."

Announced Akiko, breathlessly.

"Funny… I was just about to say the same to you Niwa-kun."

The older woman's brow twitched slightly at the honorific used, but she did not wish to lower herself to such pettiness in front of the fiery little lady before her.

They leant heavily on their wooden poles, breathing wildly as they attempted to assert their claim to victory in their unofficial contest.

"Really, Niwa-kun, for the last few hundred strikes your form has been less than perfect, it was only just now that I decided to say anything, as not to hurt the lady's feelings."

"You needn't have worried. If the point of my spear was dipping at all, then it was only because I was so distracted by your inability to keep yours high."

"Huh? I did not realize the samurai were such sore losers."

"Quite the contrary, Miura-kun, for I did not lose."

"Ohh, true… you did lose quite a while ago."

"True? It seems we are in agreement then, I won, correct?"

"A pretty face, but very clogged ears it seems. Perhaps you should clean those out before we talk any further."

"How rude…"

"Shall we continue then? Since you don't want to accept that you've lost."

"Hoh, the same to you. Since you are unwilling to accept your defeat, this time we will make it all the more obvious."

They resumed their stances and went back to thrusting. Much the same pattern continued on throughout the day, with neither one of them willing to accept defeat.

And then the training practice began to draw to a close, and they all gathered to feast on the dinner that had been prepared for them beforehand.

"By my counting, I've won 5 times, and you zero."

"There are a couple of flaws in your calculations there, Miura-kun, in fact it was I who won 5 times, and you zero."

Though the practice had drawn to a close, their arguments still continued.

A group of three girls came over, calling for Rin.

"Rin, let's go get some food. What are you still standing around for?"

She promptly waved them away, still busy arguing with Akiko.

"You guys go on without me, the young lady Niwa has asked me for help in counting."

They stared at the unusual pair with curiosity, noting the aggression in Rin's voice, before shrugging and turning to leave.

"Help with counting? My counting skills are more than fine, thank you very much."

"Apparently not. You still can't see that you've lost."

"Mmmm… It's impossible to argue with you. Nor do I want to. In my eyes, I have won, that is all."

"The same goes for me then."

She sighed at that, before turning toward the food with a final parting comment.

"I'm far too hungry for this – after all, I used a good deal more energy since I was keeping my point up."

"Hoho, is that so? Is that how we will decide the winner then, whoever eats the most must have used to the most energy."

"My… It seems everyone is capable of some degree of intelligence every now and then. Very well, Miura-kun, I accept your challenge."

"I am a genius, after all. To keep things simple, we'll just eat rice balls."

"What about drinking, and soy sauce?"

"Drinking is allowed, but soy sauce isn't."

"Very well, you have yourself a contest."

Rin pushed her way through the crowd – as she had far more experience at such a thing – and secured a large plate of rice balls for themselves. There were a few complaints, but she managed to protect her prize all the way back to where Akiko stood.

"That was pretty impressive…"

The lady commented genuinely. To her, that mass of bodies was a wall, and not something that could be so easily navigated.

"I am, yes."

Rin waved away her compliments, and looked around for somewhere to sit. There were rows of benches lined up for the villagers to sit on, but she wished to steer clear of those for she had no doubt that there would be more than a few comments about the number of rice balls she had taken. There looked to be about 20 in total, and that would ordinarily be enough for at least 6 people.

"Over here."

She motioned toward a group of logs that lay outside one of the villagers' houses, lightly dusting it off before promptly sitting down.

Akiko wrinkled her nose at that action, as the log had looked to contain a good deal of mud.

"Are you not worried about getting dirty?"

"Nope. I can clean when I get home, so what's there to worry about?"

"I suppose you're right…"

She relented, lowering herself onto the log.

"Here."

She was handed her first rice ball, and a split second later Rin had already taken a bite out of hers. She cared not for lady-like mannerisms, and did not pay the grains of rice that stuck to her lips the slightest bit of attention before she moved onto the next one.

Not wanting to be left behind, Akiko quickly did the same.

After the first two bites, both were filled with confidence, feeling that there was lots of room left and that the competition would be an easy one.

But after the second rice ball, that confidence was soon replaced with unease. They watched each other closely, their eyes begging for the opposition to give in.

When she picked up the fifth rice ball, Akiko did so with an expression of the utmost disgust. The nearer it came to her lips, the less determined she was to eat it. She saw that Rin was already halfway through her fifth, and ventured a bite, holding her nose against the rice smell that her body had grown to hate.

They crawled through the fifth and sixth, nearing the seventh.

It was then that Akiko admitted defeat.

"…I can't, you win… Just let me never eat rice again."

"I win..? Thank god… I think I'm going to die."

They held their bellies, feeling a mighty sickness overwhelm them.

"This was a pretty bad idea…"

Rin admitted, thoroughly regretting the whole affair.

"Oh god… I have to ride a horse after this – I honestly think I'm going to throw up."

"You're telling me… I have to walk like this… Well, maybe walking is better than riding. I don't know, I've never ridden."

"You've never ridden..? Really?"

"No, I haven't. We can't afford a horse so… there's really no chance of that."

Akiko paused a little while in thought, still thoroughly nauseated by her sickness.

"You're staying with us in the mansion so… if you'd like, I can teach you how to ride."

Rin's eyes widened at that. The thought was clearly appealing.

"Really? Would that be okay?"

"Of course, I don't have anything else going on after all."

"Alright!"

"But maybe let's not do it tonight? I feel like if I move too much that my belly might explode."

"Yeah… let's take it easy tonight, and remember never to do this again."

"Agreed."

And so the day of training was concluded, with the majority of the villagers feeling thoroughly exhausted, and a certain two young ladies feeling a certain amount of congestion within their stomach area.

Morohira's booming laughter after he caught sight of them waddling along like old grandmas did not help, and they both shared a glance, feeling the sickening sensation rise up in their throat once more.

Akiko had chosen to walk, fearing that the motion of a moving horse was all that was needed to genuinely send her into a vomiting fit. It worked out fine however, as Rin was in very much the same position, and instead the two walked side by side, right at the back of all the villagers.

A small escort of guards surrounded them, with Morohira and Fuku tucked inside the protective circle as well.

Jikouji felt like a grandfather might when he watched the two young ladies interacting. Akiko motioned for Rin to stroke her horse that was leading by the reigns – for she was clearly eager – and the woman in question tentatively reached out, making contact with the soft fur before rapidly withdrawing her arm and looking toward Akiko with a gleeful smile.

'That young lady has been far too long without friends. It would be nice if this was the beginning of something new for her.'

He thought to himself, a gentle smile resting upon his lips.

'I'm sure it will bring ease to Nakatane, for I know how much he has always worried about her.'

Chapter 41: Final Preparations

When war is afoot there is an unusual air about a place. It grows heavy from the apprehensive hearts of the people. Personalities are polarized to the extremes, and – broadly – you are left with two types of people. One type endeavours to do all they can, and all that they have ever wanted to do, so that if they were to die they would not die with regret.

The other type sits almost mopingly, overcome by a certain lethargy as they reflect on the events of their life, tainted by a nostalgia that pollutes their brain and dilutes their thought.

Such had never even come close to being the case in Toyone, as the people were blessed with a degree of confidence from the exercises that they were made to perform.

Every day the women would spend in the town square, honing their technique with the spear. After the second day, the men only spent their mornings in practice with weaponry. Their afternoons were filled with a series of manoeuvres, cultivating them into soldiers capable of carrying out the fake strategy.

Of course, none of that second part of the day – although they poured their sweat and blood into it – particularly mattered. The only important part was the deception. The men needed to believe that what they were doing was essential to their survival – they needed to believe that their success was dependant on this strategy.

The only man fitting to lead them was Ishiyama, who was most adept in not letting a hint of his emotion show. Even the guards that had served under him for many years did not sense that something was off.

He pushed them to work hard, so that their afternoons were fraught with difficulty. But any less and it would not have achieved the desired effect. And no man dared to complain, for they knew just how important the exercises were.

That is, of course, aside from those few whose loyalties lay elsewhere.

It was frighteningly easy to detect the traitors, as they were the only men who forced their aching bodies to move after dark.

They moved quietly along the roadside, not particularly caring about remaining hidden. This group of three had the utmost faith in their own intelligence, and believed themselves to be the most cunning of foxes, receiving a certain thrill from the act of disguising their intentions so adeptly.

But foxes were not the only nocturnal animal in that part of the forest. Ishiyama sat curled up in his cloak, his back against a set of trees, and his face hidden by dense foliage. But his view of the roadside was still enough for him to imprint the identities of the foxes onto his memory.

It was decided that he keep their identities to himself until the very eve before the battle, for he had the most adept mastery of his emotions, and the more people that knew, the more likely it was for the secret to be revealed.

During these days before the battle, there were a certain group of people who had a few promises that they were busy keeping.

One such man was Gengyo, who stood now, his bokken drawn and his mind focused.

To his front and sides there were nought but trees, and the ground was littered with all kinds of curiosities.

Yet his intent was to pass them by without leaving so much as a whisper – he desired for his footwork to be as light as the touch of a feather.

When he had first approached this task of his, he had done so with an open mind. He had not planned in the least. He did not even know where he should practise. But in the end, his feet showed took him themselves, and he found himself standing beside the charred remains of their home.

It was a place the held an emotional significance for him, as it was the first place he had taken a life. In that sense, it felt most fitting to practise here.

At first, he had swung his sword down swiftly, counting the strikes until he reached one hundred. His mind had been awash with all kinds of thoughts as he did so, and some of them caught his interest.

He wondered whether this was part of cultivating the warrior spirit within himself. He certainly appreciated the zen-like element, as toward the end the strikes had proved almost meditative.

He soon found himself trying to empty his mind to the degree that he could, but he found it be an impossibility. Instead, he proposed that he might instead focus absolutely on one idea within his mind. He had thought a good deal on what that idea would be before attempting anything.

In the end, he had settled on the imagery of water. Though a clichéd idea in some sense, he could not shake that it was something that perfectly matched him. He had a degree of familiarity with the gentle liquid, and no matter where he had moved in his previous life, he had always sought out a body of water in the times that he needed comfort.

And so now he moved, attempting to be as subtle as a single drop of water landing amongst a vast, raging sea.

But no matter how he tried, the weight of his body always caused a twig to snap loudly, and forecast his location to the entire forest, and his mind was still as turbulent as a summer storm.

He sighed, lamenting his lack of progress. He had been here for a good while, as his body refused to allow him to rest with the battle so near.

He recalled the events from earlier that evening, allowing himself a small smile of satisfaction. The villagers had been all called to the market place, and the traitors had been exposed and imprisoned.

Many had outright called for them to be killed, but Nakatane had argued against it.

"Allow them a few hours to reflect on their lack of honour. After we win this battle we will allow them to dine together for eternity in the darkness of hell."

That had been more than enough to win over those that had been clamouring for blood.

And then the true strategy for tomorrow had been revealed.

"Men and woman of Toyone, now that the rats have had their legs cut, I will inform you of the true path that we will take to victory."

"Women – you have not spent this week training in vain. You must remain vigilant whilst the men wage their war. We will arm those fit enough to fight, and you will stay to defend what is ours should that dog Toga try anything dishonourable."

"And as for our plan, I know many of you feel restless. You worry about how we might attain victory now that Toda knows everything that we will attempt? To you, I ask you to steady your heart, for it is us who remain that step ahead."

"When we organise our ranks tomorrow, they will expect us to flee toward the river. Instead, I ask that you flee in the opposite direction. Discard your weapons as you wish – there will be pikes awaiting you once you make your way inside. Aim to pretend that you feel fear. With this we will crush their mercenary unit beneath our heel, and reap all the rewards of victory!"

The crowd had been perfectly silent as Nakatane's deep voice had drifted over them. They lent their ears intently, and the more they heard, the more excitement they felt.

It was not long before fists were raised in a vicious cheer that shook the ground, as the anger of betrayal was converted into a fiery motivation to crush the enemy that sought to take their land away from them.

Their lord had not failed, not in the least. Instead, he had always known of such a possibility, and used it to his advantage. In such a lord, they would place their trust without qualms, for the plan in which he had proposed was their best chance at survival.

He raised his hand for quiet, and gradually the cheers began to die before he spoke once more.

"As a precaution, anyone attempting to leave the village tonight will be captured. Those that are unable to be captured will be killed. You have been warned, so do not be foolish."

It was a necessary precaution in case there were more rats that had yet to reveal themselves.

The women had received their new role with relish, and the 50 or so that lined up to receive their weaponry and armour did not do so with a look of distaste upon their face.

Rin and Akiko had stood next to each other inline, smiling as they shared a light conversation. To Gengyo it seemed as though they were excited for the opportunity to demonstrate their worth.

He did not know precisely how he felt about Akiko charging into battle, for he had not seen anything of her fearsome side. Instead of inside the town square, his hours had been spent training with the rest of the bow ashigaru, under the guidance of the senior guard Yanagizawa who he had shot alongside on that very first day.

His relationship with the guard had grown to be more that of equals, as the guard knew just how frightening Gengyo's archery skills were. And in the end, the practice had proved far too basic, and the new recruits had insisted on a series of ranges being setup that were based upon the young man's motion test.

In a way, he wished that Akiko was more interested in archery than the spear, and worried that her training would not be enough.

But though he had not seen them train, during meals in recent days he had often heard Rin speak of her as though she were some fearsome lioness, ready to take the whole province by storm.

And if his courageous little sister were to say so, he felt rather tempted to believe it.

He'd taken notice of how close the two had grown, as Akiko's evenings hours were now spent with a different Miura, teaching Rin to ride the horse.

He'd caught the occasional glimpses of them at play, and each time – no matter what he mood – he could not help but smile.

Thus, shrouded in the pristine darkness of the forest, and the smell of wet ash burning his nostrils - with the battle ahead and thoughts of his dear ones on his mind - he clenched his bokken tightly and swore an oath.

'No matter the tide of tomorrows battle, even if I have to tear this very world apart, I will achieve victory and protect those precious to me, so that they might continue to smile as they have been.'

He then tightened his jaw, and straightened his back, before marching back toward the mansion to prepare himself for battle.

Chapter 42: A Chilling Fog

A thick fog floated heavily in the early morning air, claiming the skies before the sun had yet to assert its dominance. Any sound was suffocated, and the temperatures remained chilly.

The people awoke from their restless few hours of sleep, peeling the covers away from themselves reluctantly as they dreaded the stinging of the cool air upon their bare skin.

Some moved themselves toward the kitchen, attempting to stomach a light meal. Most simply sat by the fire, unwilling to do anything further.

"The air is far too cold for June."

An old man remarked to his wife, as he rubbed his wrinkled palms together in a futile attempt to generate some heat.

"It is the presence of death. We are no strangers."

His old wife replied grimly.

Not one man was able to crack a smile. Nor were pleasant conversations able to be shared. A current of nervousness infected the land for miles around.

Beginning with the dou – the chest plate – they passed their fingers across the cold, lacquered leather, fastening it above their shoulders. Further leather pieces hung from the dou, in an attempt to protect the leg and lower body.

Soon the cold of the leather started to fade, edged on by the heat of their bodies, and so they reached forward to retrieve their arm guards. After a shin guard was secured to each leg, the peasant's armour was complete.

Dressed in the dull boiled leather, the ashigaru all looked alike as they left their homes, with weapons in hand. The only way to tell man and woman apart was the slight bulge offered by the chest. The rest was hidden by a conical leather jinagasa that sat atop their heads.

The figures walking into town emerged from the fog like phantoms. They had moved onwards, attracted by the bright torchlight. The atmosphere was oppressively heavy. Three demons sat mounted with their red armour reflecting the flickering light, and their men-yoroi frightening even their allies.

It was difficult to tell them apart, especially with the armour on. Though the unmasked woman that sat atop her horse beside them was no mystery.

With her armour a similar red to her father, and her beautiful face painted white, she was an inspiring sight, and no doubt one that the village women would put their faith in when the time came.

In this land of death, she could be called the goddess.

The rabble of armed men and women were separated with a motion from Jikouji, and the two ranks stood opposite each other.

The guards were distinguishable by their dyed black armour that was similar to that of peasants in everything but colour.

All in the square were armed. The bow ashigaru with their bows, the samurai with their katana, and the rest with their steel-tipped yari.

"Are they ready?"

The central demon asked of the man next to him.

In response, a horse was turned, as the head of the guards turned to face those who he had spent these past days instructing.

"The master asks: are you ready?"

He spoke only slightly louder than normal, yet the response was instantaneous.

Butts of spears were slammed against the floor and feet with stamped.

"AWOO!"

"Good."

Nakatane urged his station forward, separating himself from his guards before he turned to face the men also.

"Men of Toyone. Peasantry or guard. Samurai or servant. Today we fight not for riches, not for honour, and not for glory. If those are what you seek, then it would be better to end your lives here. We fight because we have encountered something unforgivable. Something that wishes to burn our homes to the ground, to **** our women, and to cut open our children."

"This is your village. These are your homes. Fight not for me. Fight to protect your families, your own people. Wet your spear with the blood of our enemies, and I guarantee, should victory be kind to us, you will be well rewarded."

A powerful wave of emotion passed over the men. It was a blunt speech, and an honest one, but it ignited a rage in them that could not be inspired in any other way.

Even young Gengyo was moved, as he clenched his hand into a fist, and gritted his teeth, his blood boiling.

'I will, with this warrior mindset, carve open their stomachs before they can even deign to touch my people! This is not the man I wanted to be – this is the man you made me. Do you feel that Toda? That trembling in your heart? I'm coming for your head.'

The demon in red then turned his steed to face the other group.

"Women of Toyone. This world disregards your importance. Most commanders would see you as too weak to fight. As would I have, had the times not been so dire. Protect our homes, and protect yourselves."

His daughter rode up alongside, her face stern and elegant. Her fingers locked tightly around the shaft of her spear, and she hoisted it up into the air.

"Do not worry, father, we will send the brave men that think to come here straight to hell!"

"AHAW!"

A feminine war-cry resounded, as the women responded to the will of their new commander. Though feminine, it was chilling, for it was dripping with bloodlust.

"Good."

The demon in red took a few steps back, and allowed the commander of the infantry, Jikouji, to assume his role.

Being old as he was, the troops made the mistake of relaxing slightly.

"ASSUME BATTLEFIELD POSITIONS!"

A terrifying roar made the whole population collectively flinch, including Nakatane.

Not a single action could be carried out under the pressure of such a command, aside from those that demonstrated absolute obedience.

The old man rode on, as the grey wisps of horsehair that clung desperately to his red helmet started to fly. It was a fitting decoration for his kabuto, for his own old hair looked much the same.

The master, after a slight paused, put his heels into his horse, urging it behind the old man. And then the ranks of yari ashigaru began to file off, following behind the two samurai at a slow, rhythmic jog.

Ishiyama stood before the 20 bow ashigaru, his black men-yoroi mask decorated with a full horsehair goatee.

"You know your role, follow me."

He galloped away at an inconsiderate pace, leaving his men to flounder behind him at a jog. It did not take them long to clear the central village houses, and soon they neared the forest.

Gengyo – who ran ahead – turned to share a glance with Masaatsu. That slight slither of concern he had proved to be unfounded, as he was greeted with a stern nod in response.

A nervous smile decorated the young man's lips as he turned back around, and they plunged their way into the vegetation of the forest. Their footsteps were loud on the twigs underneath, sounding like they were some large cumbersome beast. Though he knew that such a sound would not be heard by the enemy, it still caused him to feel unsettled, and he sort comfort in squeezing the grip of his trusty bow.

With the rising sun, the fog began to disperse, and they plunged deeper into the forest, aiming toward a position that would give them a full view of the battlefield.

Ishiyama had dismounted some time ago, and led the men on foot.

They slid down steep hills made of loose earth, and clambered over rocky inclines. The going was tough, and very soon large gaps started to form in the line that they had been running in.

Their commander ran as though unfazed by such terrain, steadily increasing the lead between him and the man behind.

Gengyo was drenched in sweat after having run for almost an hour in such a fashion, and when he turned around he could see that the rest of the men were no better off.

They'd had to run whilst holding their quivers in their hands, for fear of losing the arrows, but all the little inconveniences mounted up, and by the time Ishiyama finally stopped most of the men were a single step away from absolute exhaustion.

He pointed wordlessly. Following his finger, those that had kept up with him could see the field of battle, and if they looked further to the left, they could catch the slightest glimpse of the right flank of the yari ashigaru unit.

Gengyo – having been in the upper half of the line – paused by the side of the hill to offer a hand to his flagging comrades who were having trouble negotiating the last obstacle.

Even the guards took his hand gratefully, before falling to the damp earth barely able to breath.

Their commander did not carry a bow, and instead sat atop a rock, the tip of his sword buried between his feet, whilst the hilt was grasped with bow hands. He observed the battlefield intently, searching for any changes.

A little while later, the exhausted men were forced to rise after a low tremble started to massage the earth.

"Earthquake?"

An older guard asked.

Ishiyama shook his head, his boiled leather armour creaking as he did so.

"No, soldier. Calvary."

Upon his words a vast troop of mounted men – armed with all sorts of different weapons – entered the battlefield, roaring at the top of their lungs.

They screamed all sorts of curses, beating their weapons loudly, and riding around in circles, attempting all sorts of clownish acts.

One man stood with his two feet firmly planted to the back of his horse, as he rode with his kimono parted, and his manhood swaying proudly in the wind.

They soon settled down about a kilometre away from Nakatane's troops, though they were still very loud and unpleasant.

Their ranks parted, and three men rode to the front.

One wore a set of full armour, a dark shade of green, with a laughing black men-yoroi covering his face. There was only one man that would have such taste.

The other to his side was a great brute of a man, standing over two metres tall, and even higher whilst mounted. His bare arms were grotesquely big, and the 3-metre long naginata that he held looked like a toy in his grasp. His armour was almost none existent. He only wore a tattered Dou over his bare, unclothed chest, as though it were some type of vest. To be fair, it was impressive that he could find any armour that fit him in the first place.

And then the final man. One would not know where to begin describing him, for there seemed to be very little that was note-worthy. Perhaps the fact that he was a mounted man, dressed almost identically to the guards? It could be deemed to be impressive to be leading a samurai's household guard whilst you were not a samurai yourself.

But he looked thin, and wiry, and Gengyo wondered whether such a man would really be much use on the battlefield. But he supposed whatever weakness his enemy brought forth would make things all the better for him.

Toda turned to his retainer on the left.

"Did you check the river banks?"

"I did, my lord, they were as those men said. There are enough long poled yari there to arm the entire ashigaru unit."

"Kahaha, excellent. And what did you do with said yari, my little friend?"

"They are currently being broken up for firewood back at the village, lord."

"Tsch. You could have done something more exciting than that."

"Apologies, my lord."

Chapter 43: Playing With Ants

"Well, no matter, there is very little today that can spoil my mood."

Toda had a grin that much resembled that of his men-yoroi. He looked across the battlefield, wondering what the most fun way of dealing with the ants in front of him might be.

He was aware, through his superior intelligence, of exactly what Nakatane was about to do next. Hence he had the control entirely. He was the playwright to this grand performance.

He looked to Ochi on the left: he was continually clenching and unclenching his grip upon his polearm, admiring the bulging veins in his forearm as he did so.

Toda sighed at such stupidity. He knew that if he sent him and his raging dogs to attack, the battle would be over all but instantly. The enemy would flee toward the river after discarding their weapons, and they would find nothing there. It would be a slaughter.

He ran and finger under his kabuto, trying to deal with the bothersome itch that such a tight helmet often generated, pondering as he did so. He wanted to play with that old fool Nakatane, and drag the battle out of for as long as he could.

He'd always found himself despising the man, ever since he was a child. There was something about his moralities that truly infuriated him. He supposed it was because of their foolish nature. Back when he had to sit in on the long conversations his father and that man would share, he had truly wished to drive the chopsticks in his hand through each other their eyes.

And then, when he had finally got that father of his out of the picture, things started to look up. The world had become infinitely more enjoyable, and he could play with things as he wished. Money was not an issue, as long as you forgot to care about pointless things.

But, stupidity enough, money gave you an incredible amount of power, and it had been easy enough to suppress the little village of Toyone after recruiting a single mercenary unit for a price that he deemed to be menial.

He laughed as he recalled how that old fool had even been willing to give away his daughter in order to protect that pathetic little town of his.

'But now, she will be mine all the same. I imagine she'll be much more fun than those village girls.'

"Ochi. Send some of your bowmen to annoy them a bit. Don't kill too many, just scare them."

That great mammoth of a man looked rather unhappy with that command, for he'd been itching for blood for far too long. But still, he gave the orders, and watched as he 40 bowmen galloped away.

They urged their horses on with lashes to the side, hollering like wild animals, as they stood up in their stirrups and drew back their bowstrings, steadily closing the distance.

Toda watched on with a little smile on his lips, wondering how Nakatane might respond.

They neared the enemies' ranks, and arrows started to fly from their short, horseback bows. He heard some fine screams as a few of the arrows landed, one catching a man in the knee, and the other tearing through a man's cheek.

"STAND FIRM!"

A rallying cry rang across the battlefield, full of emotion. It was one that Toda recognised instantly. His eyes began to narrow as his grotesque smile grew even more perverse.

'Kahaha, is it getting a little tough for you, Niwa, seeing your people die right in front of you? Get used it. There is much more where that came from.'

He watched expectantly, waiting for them to run toward the river. The horsemen were recalled and 10 soldiers lay dead, with another 5 wounded. Cries were coming from their ranks, and each one was a sweet delight to his ears.

"Fuck! There's no way we can win!"

"Yeah! What the fuck are we doing? I don't want to die!"

Their shouts were heard even as far away as he was, and then, they started to throw down their weapons one by one.

The first man dropped his spear, and ran toward the forest, screaming.

Another two men followed.

And before long the entire unit was collapsing in a wave of routing as the two commanders struggled to keep everything together.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING YOU COWARDLY BASTARDS? I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF!"

Nakatane attempt to ride in front of the fleeing peasants, and bar their path with his horse. But they managed to scurry around him.

Now almost all the men had disappeared into the forest, still shouting loudly. The furious commander turned to his captain.

"JIKOUJI! AFTER THEM! COWARDS SHOULD BE CUT DOWN!"

"Kaka…"

A muffled laugh escaped the fingers that were pressed against his pale lips. His face twitched. Once, twice, and then on the third time he could not hold it in.

"Kahaha, that old fool! Even with your strategy your own men abandoned you! It seems I needn't have bothered at all!"

He was beside himself. His whole body heaving with laughter, he had to clumsily dismount his horse for fear of falling, and then the chuckle permeated throughout his body once more, and soon he was all but rolling on the floor.

Ochi watched the measly man chuckling away, and sniffed with distaste. To him, strength was everything, and if not for the coin, who would never follow such an insect of a man.

"Agh, fine! Go hunt them down, Ochi. But capture that old man alive! I want him to be there when I'm playing with that daughter of his."

The bear-like man smiled a wide smile, revealing rows of blackened teeth, and he let out a loud bellow to his men with a sword raised in the air, and then he proceeded to gallop toward the forest. Words were not needed, and each of his men understood the signal, as they followed behind him letting loose bestial battle cries.

Toda lifted off his helmet. "A savage bunch," he commented, clambering back onto his horse. "I was rather enjoying myself… But I suppose that oaf is far too stupid to understand the rather subtle humour of all this."

"That must be so, lord."

His retainer commented flatteringly.

…

…

"They're moving."

Niiro noted lightly.

"They are."

Ishiyama affirmed, remaining stock still.

"When will we move?"

"When the time is right."

As always, the lead guard was a man of few words. He did very little to set their nerves at ease, and some of the more weak-hearted amongst their men, such as Kitajo, were having trouble settling.

"This… This is really not good, Miura-san, we're definitely going to die."

Gengyo patted the lad on the shoulder.

"It'll be fine. Everything is going according to plan, just calm yourself."

"But we already lost 15 men! How are they meant to defeat 200 with just the amount that they have?"

…

…

Back in Toyone, all left behind were gathered in the market square. It was the safest strategy they could utilise, and the one that made the best use of their numbers.

A child began to cry loudly, shattering the silence, causing Akiko to flinch. Its grandparent hurried to comfort it, but by then it was already too late. The people were already far too tense. How could they not be? Their very lives depended on the result of the clash on the battlefield, and not a single one of them knew what was going on.

The 50 or so women Akiko had under her command clutched their yari nervously, wondering whether anyone would truly attack. Some even wondered if it was better if they did. At least then they would have something to take their mind off the agonising wait.

She desperately wished to offer comfort to the people, but she did not know whether it would have any effect, as she herself was greatly unsettled.

An old couple passed through the masses, handing out some treats that had been baked the night prior. Grateful hands received them, and whispers of thanks passed round.

Shivers started to fade as the rising sun warmed their backs.

Somehow, it felt wrong for the world to be so bright in such a time. The fog had been far more fitting.

Her horse snorted impatiently, as she patted her head attempting to calm it down. The horse could feel the danger of the present moment acutely, and did not like it a single bit. Had it been a less disciplined horse, it would likely have thrown its young rider a long time ago, and have galloped toward the hills.

Rin smiled up at her warmly, as though completely unfazed by all that was going on.

She took comfort in the strength of her younger friend, and reaffirmed her conviction clenching her spear tightly.

"Mummy, what's that smell?"

A child at one corner of the square asked, looking up at his anxious mother with big round eyes.

"It's the treat that the nice old lady gave you."

"No, it's not that mummy."

His older brother picked up on it.

"Ah, I smell it too."

The rest of the people in the square could hear their conversation quite clearly, and soon the majority of them were also sniffing the air.

"It's smoke, young ones. Look up to the sky."

The old lady from earlier commented lightly, as though it was something that did not involve her in the slightest.

Akiko followed the crooked old finger that was pointed skyward. Her heart sank, as dread began to fill her blood. A great, daunting cloud of smoke was billowing into the sky, reaching its fingers toward the sun in an attempt to block out its light.

In this moment of fear, she froze, as a hysteria gripped the people who knew exactly what such a dark plume signified.

…

…

Into the forest, things proceeded as planned. The fleeing men split off into groups, retrieving the stashed long yari that had been stored there since the night prior.

When they had fled earlier, most did not even need to act, for they felt a genuine sense of fear seeing their comrades fall to the mass of arrows that came toward them. They were glad to have this as their plan. With their backs against the trees, and the longest yari most had ever seen gripped in their hands, they felt a good deal safer.

Nakatane and Jikouji had dismounted, moving toward what they knew to be the centremost position of the clustered men, so that they might command, and also retrieve some spears for themselves.

A quivering peasant caught the master's eye as he pressed his back firmly against the tree, with his yari in hand. He brought a fist to his heart, and nodded deeply toward the man.

The man nodded back, a little more courageous than before.

The wait was sickening. They had expected the enemies to chase after them almost immediately, but now the adrenaline had all but worn off, and they were left in silence with their thoughts.

A few quivering men felt their bladders loosen, and tears begin to fall down their cheeks as their thoughts inevitably went toward death. It was not the actual state that they feared, but the pain that comes before it.

Not a single man could call them cowards however, for despite the extreme fear that they felt, not a single one abandoned their post, or fled further into the forest. The opportunity had always been there, but none had even thought of taking it.

Perhaps that was to Nakatane's credit, or perhaps it was to their own. Either way, it was the right choice to make that day.

Chapter 44: Chaos

The mercenaries' cries, and the sound of their horses' hooves were amplified by the men's fear, yet still they held on as such terrifying noises grew closer.

The threshold into the forest was crossed, marked by the breaking of hundreds of twigs, and the riders rode deeper, possessed by an animalistic bloodlust, and overcome by a sense of perversion as they hunted for prey.

Deeper and deeper they rode, and at speed too. The distance that took the men a good few minutes took them mere seconds.

Horses were said to have to slow down when passing through trees, but that was not the case for them, who, as mercenaries, had often spent their time lurking in the forest, and had grown accustomed to riding through it.

Galloping as fast as you could, whilst dodging obstacles that could be life-threatening, brought a certain thrill, and they were confident in their abilities.

THUCK

That was, until, the front-most man – who Ochi used as a tracker – rode straight into the first of the wire traps. And now, his body rode on without him for a few seconds, before collapsing from its mount leaving a spurt of blood to cloud the air.

His head blinked a few times in surprise, before it was crushed underfoot by the hoof of the horse of the man behind him, who did not have enough time to slow down before his neck was also slit by the tiny, barely detectable wire.

Ochi, who rode in third, roared at such cowardly tactics, urging his horse onwards as though to show he was not scared of a measly wire.

And then, with a slash of his huge naginata, the wire was cut.

Grunting towards his men, he warned them to be careful of wire traps in future, and split them into a series of groups so that they might avoid them better.

The men were undeterred. If anything, they were more excited after seeing the sight of blood – even if it was that of their own comrades. It had been months and months since they had last done battle, having to sate their desires with random acts of theft, and the few women that Toda sent their way.

Nakatane's men did not know quite what had occurred, but after hearing the rhythmic beating of hooves begin to slow, they hedged a guess.

It was chaos within the forest, as the men attempted to imitate their leader, and slice through any wire that got in their way. The problem was, it was so thin that it was all but impossible to see.

But that did not stop them from charging in wildly. It did not even make them want to slow down and ride second. Instead they fought to make their way to the vanguard, so that they might have a chance at slicing through such a wire themselves – or even better, be the first to find prey.

The result was a good many causalities, as a taller man – who was not quite at head height with the wire – had it grind through his rips before finally coming to a stop an inch away from his beating heart. He lived, but he mas as well have died, for the man could not stay mounted, and met his end under the rear hooves of his friend's horse.

Others were not so fortunate. Or perhaps were more fortunate, as they managed to live, but at the cost of an arm.

Some did not get hit at all, though they rode straight through the wire. But it was impossible to say that such people lived on, happily, without a single injury, for their dear steed had been beheaded, and now they were sailing through the air, landing heavily against the hard roots of a tree. Perhaps they would have even cried if they saw the state of their mangled legs, but they could not feel them.

The wires served their part in creating absolute chaos. Their numbers had been thinned without a single engagement, and the forest was nourished with many gallons of their blood.

But unlike an ordinary cavalry unit, this did not serve to make their morale drop. They did not fight for victory, merely the thrill of battle. As such they were uncontrollable – almost. That would be if Toda had not offered the amount of coin that he had.

Ochi grew angrier with each man he lost, lashing out aggressively at any strands of wire that he found in his way. He forced his way back to the front, making his men regroup behind him as he secured a path which they could ride through. They were reluctant but not disobedient, as they all knew of the big man's temper. It was no accident that he had ended up in charge of 200 of the most bloodthirsty men on earth.

The hooves grew closer to Nakatane's position and their beating hearts grew faster.

Perhaps they could simply remain like that, hiding behind the tree, and allow these barbarians to pass? That way could they not return home to their families? Could they not give their dear wives one final kiss, or share one final story with their enthusiastic youth?

Nakatane knew exactly what they were thinking. And as the ground rumbled, and the mounted beasts howled, he was the first man to step out from the trees and make his stand.

"OORAH!"

Possessed by a furious energy, he thrust out with all the aggression of a war god, puncturing Ochi's stallion through the chest with the sharpened wooden point of his lengthy spear.

The mammoth fell from his mount clumsily, his head colliding with a nearby tree root. He ceased to move, and a pool of blood began to form around him.

"ARM THESE SPEARS MEN! VICTORY SHALL BE OURS!"

He stood in front of the charge of over 150 horsemen, alone. But he did not give a single inch of ground. He met the charge of the next man in line, roaring vengefully, possessed by all the rage and power that had accumulated in his body over these past years.

The horsemen shrieked like a pack of hyenas, fanning out, each eager for a piece of the man who had brought down their leader.

And those men met the points of 65 spears, held in the paws of lions. They roared with the same fury their lord had shown, inspired. They cared not for the fear present within their hearts. Tears still clung to their cheeks, and still ran down from their eyes. But they gave it everything.

A man, who had spent all his years as a rice farmer, punctured the chest of a mounted beast, feeling the sticky blood run down his spear and cling to his hands.

He shouted. Not because he was scared, or because he was disgusted. But because nothing in that moment felt more right.

"ARRRRH!!"

The man next him caught the entire weight of a horse on the end of his, as he flew backwards before the butt finally caught against the ground, and the horsed reared, impaled.

His rider fell to the floor, only momentarily dazed, before he charged manically toward the man who had downed his horse, sword in hand.

The man froze. There was nothing to arm him. His spear was thoroughly stuck. His feet turned away, so that he might run, but his body was unwilling. A jagged, rusty sword, neared his neck, intent on claiming his life. But his body would not allow him to dishonour himself through cowardice. He closed his eyes, prepared to die.

THWACK

The sound of a head being served. Yet it was not his own. He dared to open his eyes, wondering whether he would now catch a glimpse of heaven. Yet instead he saw a red demon, flicking blood from his sword. From the horsehair he recognised Jikouji.

Feeling the fresh blood warming his feet, he struggled to process what was going on.

"FIGHT ON, BRAVE SOLDIERS!"

The old man roared across the battlefield, his powerful voice inspiring the men.

He found reason, and scrambled over to his spear, pulling it free as he stepped over the body of his comrade, and back into the thick of the fighting.

With the initial charge, they had dealt a heavy blow. Such was the power of an ambush. Yet it was still not enough. These were hardened warriors, wielding swords and axes, and their opponents merely had sharpened sticks. Their numbers still out-weighed Nakatane's men, and now the tide of battle started to turn in their favour.

The master fought, drenched in blood, surrounded by three men, barely hanging on to his life. He struggled to keep them at a distance, but to make a fatal strike would be to hand them his own head.

And behind him, a giant was waking from its deep slumber. It grunted as it felt the sticky blood that clung to its bald head, letting out a roar. Ochi was consumed by rage. Not because he had been injured, but because he had missed out on the best part of the fight.

He saw one of his men fighting a peasant nearby, and strode toward them.

"Ochi-sama!" His man called, as though pleased to see him alive.

The giant paid him no attention, and carried on walking, as he sent his closed fist toward the peasants head.

CRWK

A sickening crunch sounded out, as the man's skull caved in, and his measly leather hat rolled away.

His man did not react with fear, for he knew full well of his master's strength.

"Off."

He pointed to the horse.

"But Oic-"

His naginata found its way through his chest, before he was lifted up on the end of it – using only a single arm – and was sent flying against a tree.

"Insubordinence will not be tolerated."

The mammoth muttered to himself, as he pounced atop the horse that shrieked out after having been forced to bear its weight. It pottered unsteadily, struggling to remain balanced.

But the mammoth did not have time to concern himself with it.

'Mmm. It's always better on a horse.'

Was his only thought as he rode toward the man that had dealt him, and his men, such a blow.

Jikouji – who had been darting across the battlefield, helping anywhere he could – noticed the giant approaching, and called out a warning.

"Nakatane! Behind you!"

Surrounded by three men to his front, he did not have to check just what he had to watch out for, and instead chose to trust entirely in the old man, and threw himself off to the right.

SWISH

It proved to be the correct decision, as a colossal naginata slashed through the air at a speed that could be deemed nothing if not unnatural.

That was not to say that the only thing it hit was air.

A man cried out as he looked at the empty socket where his arm had once been.

"Cripples are useless."

The blade finished the job, beheading him, and ending his screams there and then.

Such was the mammoth's reputation. All that followed him knew of it, and that was why he was in charge.

Nakatane struggled to his feet, drawing his katana, looking up at the beast of a man that towered before him.

"Fuck me…"

He cursed. He knew that if such a beast was allowed to roam the battle than their already dire fight would certainly be lost.

The sharp blade of the naginata travelled down the steel of his sword, before he finally caught it on his crossguard. His knees almost buckled under the pressure of such a strike, and he grunted with exertion, throwing it off to one side.

He looked up resentfully, seeing that the strike was sent with only one arm, whilst the other was being used to steer his horse.

The speed of such a strike was uncanny too, and it likely would have been faster had he still been riding that great big bull of a horse that he was earlier.

Chapter 45: An Awakened Giant

Nakatane prowled around Ochi slowly, tracing out a circle. He attempted to force the horse to turn awkwardly, possibly breaking a leg in the process.

But his opponent was an experienced rider, and the horse was made aware of his intentions all along. There were no sudden movements, and so no risk of injury.

He stepped forward, slashing upwards. The giant oaf of a man easily caught such a strike on the metallic shaft of his naginata, before sending a strike of his own toward the other man's ribs.

With both hands on his sword, he attempted to stop the swing, only to feel his feet travel a little off the floor, before gravity pulled him back without a shred of mercy.

'He's strong… far too strong."

He lamented, spitting out the blood that had filled his mouth after the momentum of the strike shook his internals.

Behind this huge mountain he could see his men, struggling on, and Jikouji darting about, assisting where he might. The tide was very much against them, and he knew that if it were to continue like this, then the chances of them winning would be virtually zero.

He had to gamble.

He drew his wakizashi, holding it in his left hand, whilst he continued with his katana in the right.

Ochi did not care what his intentions were. He pushed forward domineeringly, sending a slash toward his shoulder, and then another lightning-fast one toward his ribs.

He held onto his katana just long enough for it to be sliced in half, before he had rolled out the way and was on his feet again, gripping his long yari.

He spared his abandoned pair of weapons a sympathetic glance. He'd had them for many years – they were given by his father on the day that he had stepped into manhood.

The mammoth held no concern about his nostalgia, and easily dodged the spear's thrusts as they came toward him and his horse.

His control of the animal was uncanny, and he moved it like an extension of his own body. Nakatane's plan to attack his mount instead of him began to crumble, as the unwieldy nature of large yari made him struggle to defend against Ochi's similarly long naginata.

Chips of wood flew everywhere, threatening to blind them. The strikes were fast and continuous. His opponent no longer cared about wounding him, it seemed, but rather about shortening that spear of his as he went to work like a lumberjack.

The smaller man did his best to make that difficult for him, by striking again and again toward the horse's rear, and toward his chest. But for every strike he shot, the mammoth sent two in return.

Eventually, as though a beaver had been at work on it, the yari started to thin in the middle, until with one final strike, Ochi aimed high, cutting toward Nakatane's head.

He was forced to raise the shaft of the spear to defend himself, but the wood splintered mightily, the whole thing snapping in half. Barely losing any of its speed, the shimmering blade of the naginata continued on toward his shoulder, cutting deeply.

"NOOO! NAKATANE!"

Jikouji's anguished cry rang out.

…

…

The cloud of smoke drifted closer, as did the enemy, who were forecasting their coming with the most maddened shouts.

Akiko clumsily took command.

"E-Escort the villagers to the other side of the square… We will form up and try to deal with them."

She looked around, wondering what else to do, her mind growing numb.

A hand on her leg, and she glanced down to see Rin's face smiling reassuringly up at her.

She nodded twice. Once for Rin, and another for herself.

'Calm down...'

Taking a deep breath, she filled her lungs, her eyes closing slightly. Her mind flashed with images of her loved ones. Of her sweet father that had come around, and gone to war for her sake. Of old man Jikouji who had taken care of her for the longest of times. Of Shibata who she had always been close with. Of Rin who had recently found a place in her heart. And, of him, whom with she had a promise to keep.

She clenched her fist, the boiled leather groaning as she did so, and she reaffirmed to herself.

'I will not die.'

"How many are there?"

She asked, her voice hardened, and stronger now, and her vision calculating.

"15 my lady."

"15? We have nothing to fear then. Villagers, we will take over from here! Rest at ease, this is a foe that we can handle."

"I need twenty women who are confident in their abilities."

She spoke to her unit as they gathered around her. A few tentative hands shot into the air, whilst there were other hurried ones, such as Rin, who was nothing if not ready.

"Good. We will set an ambush at this point. Four people behind each house. The rest of you, sit amongst the villagers. Lay your weapons at your feet so they cannot be seen. Remove your helmets. If they make it past us, or if we are experiencing difficulty, I will call on you, so be ready."

She did not have a vast knowledge of military strategy, nor did she know what tactics might be best fitting for the situation they were in. But she did know how her father intended to fight today, and she knew that the surrounding buildings would allow them enough cover to do the same.

Her people hurried into position, doing as she said. She spied Rin's mother looked mightily worried as she placed her yari by her feet, removing her helmet, and sitting in between a pair of children. She nodded, pleased with how disguised they were. Unless you were expressly looking for armoured women, you would not see them.

She dismounted her horse – knowing full well how much attention that would attract her – and tied the reigns behind a building, keeping it hidden. She assumed a position next to Rin, as they grasped their medium length yari, and the calls of the mounted warriors grew closer.

…

…

"NOOO! NAKATANE!"

An anguished cry rang across the forest. The bowmen flinched, knowing full well who that cry was referring to.

Ishiyama stood up wordlessly, and pointed to 5 guards.

"You, you… you. Come with me."

Watching him go, Gengyo panicked, grasping his arm as he tried to stop him.

"Wait, Ishiyama-san! Our mission is of the utmost importance to the outcome of this battle. If we do not accomplish it, how are we meant to grasp victory?"

The lead guard rounded on him, angrily.

"You think I don't know that!? But it's the same for them! If they lose we're fucked!"

The frustration was evident within his voice, as he bit his lip, still wondering whether this was the correct decision. The rest of the unit were startled, seeing him grow so angry.

Gengyo's hand slid off his armour, as he grasped his hair in vexation.

"Fuck..!"

The guard started to calm, seeing the boy was just as frustrated as he. He grasped onto his shoulders and shook him, bringing his face in close.

"You lead!"

"What?"

His brows twitched in confusion.

Ishiyama brought his armoured head down quickly, head-butting the boy between the brows.

"I said: you lead! You're a smart kid, yeah? I give my command over to you! Do not fuck it up, understand?"

"But…"

"There's no fucking time! I'm gone, kid. Do you best."

The young man shook his head disbelievingly. This was the embodiment of chaos. Not once in his mind had this ever factored into the plan.

He pulled back on the arm of the head guard who was attempting to leave, and returned his headbutt, injuring himself on the hard kabuto helmet as he did so.

"You better fucking save him!"

He nodded, his anger all but disappearing.

"Yeah lad, leave it to me."

He gestured toward the men who he had chosen, and began to sprint through the forest toward the scene of battle.

Gengyo wanted to roar from the frustration he felt, but now ever single pair of eyes were on him, waiting for the next command. He struggled to calm himself, letting its brain do what it was good at.

By the sound of things, they could not rely on Nakatane's reinforcements any time soon. It would be a miracle if they won in the first place.

Toda was unlikely to stay waiting forever, and he dared say that he would likely follow the mercenaries in soon – that was, if he had not already heard the battle, which from his position so far away was unlikely, but it was not an impossibility.

It would be very difficult to hit Toda's men from the position they were in, as they were almost three hundred metres away. But at the very least, they could take out a couple of men, and if the unit chose to charge at them, they could pick off as many as they wished, before running.

The enemy had bow ashigaru of their own, but they were rendered effectively useless since he had the forest on his side, and he and his men could hide behind the trees.

But these few things were by no means enough to guarantee their victory over Toda, especially when they had so few men. They needed something extra.

…

…

The men grew closer, as did the flaming torches which they carried. The harsh hooves of the galloping horses pounded the loose stone road, send small pebbles flew everywhere.

Akiko and her group were behind the first house along such a road, whilst the rest were scattered further along.

"They're coming closer…"

Rin whispered behind her. The young girl had her eyes closed, and was concentrating entirely on the sound of beating hooves.

A flaming torch flew up into the air above them, landing lightly upon the straw roof.

VWOOF

Within seconds the entire roof was engulfed. Taking that as her signal, Rin pounced out like a fearsome tiger, jumping high into the air, and striking the lead rider through her neck with her sharp steel-tipped yari.

She landed gracefully, as the man collapsed behind her, his neck spurting a fountain of blood.

The other riders barely slowed, and she stood in front of them, calmly, unmoving. The horses parted before her as though she were the Moses of a four-legged sea. The hungry mercenaries did not have time to ponder why they had chosen to ride around such a young girl, but the aura about her was intimidating – bloodthirsty – and it had been their instinctual reaction.

Inspired by such courage, the rest of the group charged out from behind the house, attacking the last few horses that had not yet passed.

Akiko aimed high, intent on piercing the man's thick chest, but the uneven footing rendered her off balance, and the blade dipped lower than it was meant to, puncturing the muscular chest of the angry black stallion.

It reared immediately, sending its rider crashing against the earth. He was soon finished by another one of the women.

The horses had passed, leaving them, and their two dead men behind. The women sped after them, watching as the second group went to work, managing to spear the flank of a horse, yet the beast kept on riding.

The third group was luckier, as a big muscular brute of a woman, Itou, tackled a horse with her shoulder after timing her charge perfectly. From such momentum there was no recovering, and the startled rider lost his helmet mid-air, only to have his brains dashed against the cobblestones a second later.

By the time the riders had arrived in the square they had slowed, and five of their men had been killed. It was not a huge number, but it was satisfactory, as the length of their shortened yari was not ideal for confronting a horseman's charge head-on.

The twenty women under Akiko's command arrived soon after, cutting off their escape route. The mercenaries glared toward them, their faces twisted in a savage irritation.

Chapter 46: Courage or Folly?

A little boy began to cry, overcome by fear, his bladder loosening onto the lap of his grandmother.

He was not the first either. Even a few grown women began to cry. Though these women were not armed, because of their softer nature, so in that sense their fear was to be expected.

That was not to say that the armed women felt no fear at all – quite the contrary. Fuku who was nestled amongst the crowd froze as she stared up at the great big bearded burly barbarians, who had their faces caked with dried dirt and blood, seeming to have never washed. And their armour was in no better state, some parts of the dou missing, revealing a hairy chest and a bare nipple.

…

…

"Do you really intend to THAT?"

Masaatsu cried in outrage.

"I do."

"But that's madness! There's no way that will work. Even for you brother, it's certain death!"

A strange calmness overtook the young man as he grasped his brother's shoulder.

"It's all we have. Are you sure that's exactly where he left it?"

It was Niiro who answered.

"I am sure. But with this, I'm of the same opinion as your brother. That can't possibly work… besides your bow is much too big."

"I'll make it happen. Do as I say, and don't take any unnecessary risks. If they get within 50 meters of you, start to run. Got it?"

The men nodded doubtfully. The risk for them was minimal, but the young man's intent was all but suicidal. Not a single one believed in his chances, but nor could they offer up a better solution.

"I will be off, then."

With his bow slung over his shoulder, and his quiver in hand, the young man slid back down the hill in which they had ascended, and plunged deeper into the forest. He ran at an all-out sprint, which raised some doubts as to whether he would even be able to cover the distance necessary. But there was no time to worry about limits. Time was of the essence.

With his parting, Niiro took command.

"The kid is insane, but we must do our part."

No one raised any complaints, and followed him down the other side of the steep hill, jumping over logs and weeding their way through bramble bushes as they neared the edge of the forest.

They counted to 60 in their heads, as they had been instructed, before stepping onto the grassy plain, and drawing their bows.

Range: almost 300 metres. They needed to pull the bowstring back as far as they were able to even make the distance. And even then, it was questionable as to whether they would hit anything.

The enemy's unit was facing forward, and had not noticed as they emerged by their left flank.

Like a swarm of stinging bees, the arrows were released, high up into the air. They disappeared for a time, slowing down greatly, before gravity began to exert its will, and they plunged down toward the heads of the idle ashigaru.

The first arrow landed by the foot of a spear wielder, who jumped in surprise and fear, causing a disturbance that was noticed instantly.

With the attention of the unit captured, the remaining arrows proceeded to take at least five lives.

The enemy called out in rage, seeing their comrades fall to such a cheap blow, and spotting the aggressors standing, bows drawn, on the edge of the forest.

Toda wheeled his horse arrowed, tutting with distaste.

"What the fuck are they doing? Stupid insects…"

He had been relaxing in thought, letting his imagination take hold, thinking about the joyful tortures to come. Only to have his ruminating interrupted by a handful of men who couldn't grasp the idea of defeat.

He waved his hand.

"Sanjo, deal with them."

"Yes, my lord."

His frail retainer nodded without hesitation, pondering what the most efficient way to deal with the bowmen would be.

'With calvary,' he reasoned, 'this would be a piece of cake… but it seems now I must make a few sacrifices.'

"Peasant ashigaru, charge."

He said softly, as though it was a passing comment. The peasants looked at him angrily, knowing full well why they had been chosen instead of the guards. But it was not an order they could refuse, even taking too long to follow it could leave them in danger.

They detached themselves from the rest of the unit, as the spear and bow peasantry began to walk toward their opponents, planning to run faster only once the aggressors had released a second volley.

Such thoughts were futile however.

"Move faster, or we will also shoot you."

He spoke softly once more, and there was not a hint of threat in his voice. But the man was not joking. He would most definitely order his guards to shoot them down – and the guards would do so gladly.

They began to pick up the pace, facing a second volley – this one was much more accurate – and their numbers quickly dwindled. Only a single shot missed, and of the 50 ashigaru that had initially charged, by now, after two volleys, only 30 remained.

The bow ashigaru began to fire back, but Gengyo's unit merely retreated behind the trees, only showing themselves once a shot was loaded.

It was a slaughter. The men did not even reach the trees. The unit that had trained in motion only grew more accurate the closer they got. It was a pointless waste of men. It was to the point that Niiro and the others could not even feel good about their victory.

"They all died."

Toda commented emotionlessly.

"They did not perform as well as I expected, my lord."

"Well, it's fine."

"Perhaps we should merely move away. I dare say they will not stray too far from the trees, and it is not worth losing our guardsmen to such scum."

"Do what you want. We'll have Ochi lend us some horsemen, and we can make a sport of killing them later."

The disciplined guardsmen marched a further hundred metres away, each in step with the other, creating rhythmic beating sounds as they moved.

"Tsch, what now?"

"It did not go quite as Miura-san expected… But I suppose we stick with the plan."

Niiro replied to the irritated guardsman's question.

"Aye… But they've moved away."

"Then we will move closer. Let us sit outside of their range, and wait until Miura-san comes."

...

…

Ishiyama ran through the forest, katana in hand, hurdling over the many bits of debris like a furious rabbit. Drops of glistening sweat spun off him toward the ground, landing lightly, contrasting against his heavy footsteps that pounded the earth.

The men with him had long since fallen behind, but he cared not. Even if his heart were to burst, it would be preferable to being late to his lord's side.

The sounds of battle did not seem to be getting nearer, and he ran ever more aggressively, pushing his legs as fast as they would go, even as they burned in protest.

His lungs had long since failed to supply the oxygen that he needed to his body, but that did not cause him to slow, instead, he sped up.

His helmet was burdensome, so he removed it. His armguards rubbed incessantly, so he cut them free. His sword weighed down his arm, so he cast it aside, drawing his wakizashi in its place.

A large patch of thorny brambles claimed to be an obstacle, but he simply powered through them, ignoring them as they tore at his clothes and armour.

His shaven head dripped with blood from the many branches that clawed at his scalp, but he felt no pain, only irritation as the droplets impaired his vision.

He caught sight of a blade flashing through the air, and his speed increased yet again as he drew nearer.

A gruesome man, wielding two katana bore down on a peasant, barring his path. He simply drove the short blade of his wakizashi through his neck, severing his life without even slowing.

He glanced around frantically, searching the red armour of his lord.

A mounted rider stood in his way, obstructing his vision, so he quickly hamstringed the horse, and plunged his blade through the fallen riders eye.

A more fearsome sight would be hard to find, as the red armoured Ishiyama glared around the field of battle, his face and teeth stained with the blood of his enemies.

He carried on, frantically looking for his master.

And then when a mountain stepped to the side, he caught sight of a familiar red armour. He saw the figure of Jikouji doing battle with a beast almost three times his side, attacking with a skilful series of strikes.

His speed was unmatched, and he left a graze on the man's arm, making him twitch in pain. Yet a single swipe from his naginata, and the old man was sent flying, revealing the man he was so desperately trying to protect.

Nakatane was sat against a tree, clutching the deep wound of his shoulder, as blood continued to pour forth. Faint speckles of red could be found leaking from the corner of his lips.

Jikouji struggled to his feet on shaking legs, spitting a mouthful of blood from the broken ribs that he had received.

The air parted, allowing the snaking blade of a heavy naginata through. The old man raised his sword to protect himself from the strike.

But it was too late. His grasp of his sword was too infirm. He did not stand a single chance of defending against such a powerful strike.

"BASTARD!"

Ishiyama roared, using the small blade of his wakizashi to just barely deflect the strike that had been aimed toward the old man's head.

His master recognised him instantly.

"Ishiyama… Why have you come?"

He asked through the weakest of breaths.

"Do not speak my lord! I will take care of this."

He did not turn around when he spoke, for that would be to hand away his own life. Instead, he stepped lightly around the mammoth warrior, his wakizashi held in a reverse grip as he focused intensely, trying to anticipate the next strike.

"But… Who is leading your men?"

He leaned back, barely dodging the lengthy naginata blade that had searched to claim his head, before swinging his legs, and regaining his balance, closing the gap with his dagger held firmly against the shaft of the polearm, as he attempted to strike toward the giant's chest.

With his free fist, such an attack was easily defended, and Ishiyama was soon sent flying next to his master.

"The… boy… my lord."

He replied through shaking breath, forcing himself to his feet, ignoring the pain. He was in no better condition than Jikouji, but he gritted his teeth, and attacked as one with the old man backing him up.

"The boy..? Ah… Miura… Hahaha… the boy."

The master rolled the word around in his mouth, growing delirious from the lack of blood. He laughed to himself, wondering why when Ishiyama mentioned his name, did relief immediately follow.

The duo sprung forward, in a blinding whirlwind of speed. With his weapon, Ishiyama controlled the naginata, preventing the giant from using it to defend himself. Jikouji issued a lightning-fast combination, beating aggressive rhythms down the length of the solid metal pole, before he stepped inwards, using the full strength of his body to deliver a slash toward the mammoth's abdomen.

SLSSHH

A tiny movement of the butt of the naginata blocked the strike, but for the first time that fight, the giant was forced back, leaving two deep trenches where his feet had once been.

Chapter 47: A Woman&#039;s Strife

Ochi grunted in irritation, setting upon his two assailants with a renewed vigour. He struck toward the old man's ribs, only to have his blade deflected by the edge of Ishiyama's wakizashi. Jikouji stepped inwards, breaking through his guard, and aiming low, at the mammoth's monster of a calve muscle.

…

…

The remaining mounted men licked their lips, admiring the huge feast of civilians that sat right next to them. Their eyes flickered from their prize, back to their aggressors, and their savage grins only grew wider.

A little boy began to cry louder, attracting the attention of a lumbering horseman, with hair so long that it looked like it had never been cut, and scars so savage that he seemed have spent his entire life fighting.

He strolled toward the boy, keeping one eye on the women behind him, enjoying the absolute power he held in that moment.

'Kukukuku, what fools.'

He thought to himself, bringing the heavy blade of his longsword high into the air, and feasting upon the boy's fearful expression.

It would be the perfect buffet, yet his grandmother did not show the slightest hint of emotion. Still, with his sword flying toward the boys head, he reasoned that with enough blood they might be able to awaken something in her yet.

"NOW!"

A cry sounded out behind him. He did not pay it the least bit of mind – of course they were going to cry. He hoped they would.

That was, until, he saw the barbed point of a spear sticking through his chest, with pieces of his right lung hanging off it. He frowned slightly, not feeling any different, touching the cold metal – wet with his blood – with shaking fingers.

He turned to look at his attacker.

A young woman. Pretty enough. But crying. He wondered: why are you crying? Have you not won this fight?

And then his body convulsed, sending a torrent of blood bursting from his lips, as his heavy body crashed to the floor, only missing the young boy's feet by the smallest of fractions.

His eyebrows were still set in a look of curiosity, as they would for the rest of eternity.

Armed women began to rise from the crowd, forming a barrier between the savage horsemen, and the civilians that lay behind them.

Akiko lead her twenty women forward, completely surrounding the group.

She shot Fuku a look of sympathy, as tears freely flowed down the soft-hearted woman's face, and blood ran down the length of her spear shaft. But yet she had still retrieved her weapon, and was standing now, ready to fight.

She pondered for a second whether to offer them the chance of surrender, but when she took even a single glance at the maddened looks that were still firmly etched upon the beast's faces, she knew that such a thing would be a mistake.

Instead, she gave a single command, for the first time in her life.

"Kill them all."

Rin responded without hesitation, kicking off from the floor, and flying lightly through the air. Her target looked shocked at such agility, and barely had time to deflect the savage thrust that was bearing down on his neck. But the kick that followed was another story, and he fell from his horse.

Under the barrage of half a dozen spears, he was dead before he could even tell that he had hit the floor.

Similar stories were played out elsewhere, with the horsemen being heavily out-numbered. But the trouble occurred when a group of the weaker women congregated together, almost 5 of them. Yet their numbers no longer meant anything to the enemy. They stabbed at the target, leaving shallow wounds, but he shrugged them off with a mere grunt, cutting toward them with his gruesome axe.

Improperly trained, and unsure as how to defend, his target was killed instantly, her young, teenage face, forever of a mask of pain as the sharp axe burst through it, crushing the skull and destroying the brain.

"Kakaka, more, MORE!"

He laughed insanely, running a tongue down the length of the sharpened axe blade, tasting the strong iron filled taste of blood.

The women froze with fear upon seeing their comrade cut down so easily, and in such a brutal fashion. They instinctively took a step back, allowing him even more room to wreak havoc.

Rin and Akiko were busy with their own trials, and had not yet managed to spare a glance in their direction. Instead, the mighty duo were slaying the rest of the horsemen at a speed that brought hope to their ranks.

With every horseman that fell, there was a cheer.

But still, in certain spots, not even 10 fighters - though of course these were some of the weaker bunch – could manage to bring down one man.

He continued to absorb the jabs toward his torso and legs, virtually ignoring them, as though they were as much bother to him as a small insect's sting.

And whoever stepped in too close, he would open their skulls, or rearrange their spines. On his third kill, he aimed for the head, swinging in low and slicing through the throat with ease. It even made its way through a good amount of the spine, but to his utmost displeasure, it still hung on by the thinnest of strands.

"FUCK!!"

He cursed loudly.

Rin looked up, following the sound, and flicking the blood from her blade after the most recent kill. She felt a chill pass over her, noting the partially served head. There was something about it that she felt a degree of familiarity with.

'It can't be… Mum?'

She panicked, dashing over. Consumed by worry she ignored the fight that was going on right next to her, and gently turned the head over.

A sigh of relief, but also of pain. It was not Fuku, but it was another woman that she had known for a long time, and one that the whole village would feel grief for upon her passing.

She looked up, fury present in her eyes as she saw the beastly horseman continue to manhandle his aggressors.

This time she really did see Fuku, who managed to land a deeper wound on his side.

'Nice one, mum.'

She praised internally.

The horseman had something to say too, spinning around vengefully, irritated by the more serve pain.

"FUCKING WHORE!"

He roared, turning on her.

The spear point that she offered up in her defence was casually brushed aside, as he stepped inwards rapidly, knocking the spear from her grasp.

Rin was running over before she even had time to think. The distance was not favourable however, and here, where she was, by the horseman's backside, she did not have enough time to deflect the blade that sought to claim her mother's life.

Instead, she leap upwards, standing on the back of his horse, before driving her spear deep through his shoulder. His weapon arm lost strength, and stability, sending the bloodied axe off course. Instead of claiming her head, it fell, burying itself into her side.

With no room left to wield her spear, she brought the shaft under the horseman's throat before he had time to react. Utilising the entire weight of her body, she pulled, serving his supply of oxygen completely.

His thick arms grasped behind him, his nails clawing at her face, and his hands pulling her hair. But she did not yield. She gritted her teeth, pulling even harder.

The horse no longer had anyone to control it reared, sending them both crashing to the ground. She landed on her back, heavily, the wind forcing its way out of her lungs. She desperately struggled to breathe, but all the while the strength in her arms did not ebb, even as the weight of the burly man threatened to crush her.

His curled fingers and crippled arm twitched furiously, climaxing, completely starved of oxygen. He let loose one last maddening fit, before his body grew still.

Though she was hurt – her back throbbed fearsomely – she did not rest for even a second. She wriggled her way out from under the burdensome corpse, ignoring the blood that clung to her face and armour, and she ran toward her mother.

Fuku, lay on the ground, her face white, with two other women tending to her.

"Mum… Mum? Are you okay? Mum!"

She tried to get her attention, so worried that her questions almost became aggressive.

The benevolent woman, even in this moment of her greatest pain, still pushed her weakened body to smile for the sake of her weeping child. Even as beads of sweat decorated her forehead from the exertion, she did not stop.

"Rin-chan? She'll be fine, but she needs to rest, okay? We'll take good care of her."

A caring hand found its way to her shoulder, and the young girl stared up at its owner with tear-filled eyes.

She recognised the face of one of Fuku's close friends, Auntie Koide, and found comfort in its familiarity. Koide had been around her ever since she could first remember, and if it was her, she was sure her mother would be okay.

A gurgling sound rang out as Akiko dispatched the last horseman, before running over to Rin's side.

"How is she, Rin?"

She smiled, even as the tears still ran.

"Auntie Koide says she'll be okay."

Akiko looked toward the woman who seemed to be Koide, who nodded upon meeting her gaze, and sighed with relief.

"Really? I'm glad… Really glad."

She looked toward the women who were less fortunate than Fuku, grief filling her heart. She wondered whether this could be still considered a victory, even when they had lost five of her own.

But when she measured it against the possibility of every single one of them dying, she could not let her heart succumb to weakness, and in that sense, felt triumphant.

She looked down toward her armoured hands that were filled with blood, clenching them. The villagers that had fled to one side of the square, away from the fighting, started to come towards them tentatively, smiles threatening to break free as the knowledge that they had lived another day started to sink in.

Of course, there were many tears too, as friends and family of the fallen discovered their mangled corpses.

'This is not the end, either.'

Thought Akiko sadly, knowing that the men will have suffered losses far worse than their own. Still, selfishly – as all them would – she could not help but hope that amongst the fallen were not her close ones.

…

…

"Where is he?"

"How should I know?"

"Didn't he say at most he would be 10 minutes? What's the hold up?"

"Just shut up, and wait."

The guards were bickering amongst themselves as Gengyo had yet to arrive. Contrary to their behaviour, the peasants said nothing. Whether it was out of respect for the young man, or simply because they were used to having things not go their way, it was hard to tell.

The enemy had all but ignored them as they marched closer, closing the gap so that they were only slightly out of their bow range.

The field was vast, and flat, affording one a good view of the entire area. But with the morning sun beating down on their backs, and the plains remaining unchanged, a dull sense of anxiety was present. The adrenaline of doing battle had worn off long ago, and now, with Toda virtually ignoring them, it did not feel like battle at all.

That was, until, a black horse burst out from the trees a distance away.

Chapter 48: A Dark Horse

"That's him! That's him!"

They fumbled around as though startled, as Masaatsu urged them on.

"Quickly now! Close the distance and begin fire on the enemy troops!"

Gengyo – who had spent the last ten minutes learning how to control the horse – pushed the animal to its limits, closing the gap between himself and the enemy.

"Do you feel there's a slight breeze today?"

Toda asked of his retainer absentmindedly.

"A little, lord."

"Ah, one moment please sir, it appears those stragglers are causing more trouble."

"Do what you must. I wonder what is keeping that big oaf Ochi, though?"

"I could not say, lord, excuse me."

"Yari guards, retreat backwards at once! Bowmen, assume frontwards position, and return fire whilst staying out of range!"

There was an urgency in his voice that was not present when he was dealing with the lives of the peasantry. But these guardsmen were different. Each required a good deal of training, and cultivating. They were not something you could simply recruit.

The soldiers marched out range rhythmically, making haste. Not a single one fell to the first barrage of arrows, as they decorated the earth instead.

The bowmen assumed position, bows already drawn, and released their arrows.

"Fuck!"

Niiro cursed, seeing the speed with which the arrows were released. Their bows were evidently of a much higher quality, and the range was even further than their own.

"Run back!"

Masaatsu ordered, remembering what his brother had said about taking risks.

They sprinted backwards as fast as they were able, barely avoiding the hail of arrows that attempted to decorate their heels.

"We can't keep this up! Their range is much higher than our own!"

A guard cried in dismay.

"I know… But we have to keep their attention."

The black horse was driven faster, as Gengyo drew his bow back, finally getting into range.

He lined his aim up with his intended target, and released. Toda noticed him drawing in first, whilst his wiry retainer was still busy overseeing the movement of his troops.

Sensing the impending danger that came from an arrow intent on taking his life, he acted immediately to remove himself from its path. With an outstretched arm, he dragged his man toward him.

FLUSCH

"AHHHHHHHH!"

The scream of an arrow piercing bone. He stared at his bloody wound with wide eyes, breathing heavily, struggling to control the pain. He glared toward the man on the horse, who was riding ever closer, but was still at least 300 metres away. And then, he turned to his lord, who was looking at him without a hint of concern.

It took a great effort for him to contain his anger, as he realized exactly what had happened. But after a deep breath, he regained his calm. He was used to be treated as such after all.

Another arrow was already pulled from the quiver, and into a bowstring that was swiftly drawn.

It was terrifyingly accurate, arcing toward Toda's head, who was pulled out of its path by the very man who had just received an arrow on his behalf.

"Damn that ant…"

His retainer cursed. It was just one man… But how could they deal with him? The ten archers that he had with him were busy trying to keep those other insects at bay. If things went on like this, it was only a matter of time before one of them got hit again.

'Fuck… It hurts.'

The throbbing pain from his arm clouded his thought. He bit down hard on his lip in frustration, feeling a vengeful hatred for that man that sat on the horse so arrogantly, drawing his bow again and again as though he had all the authority of the gods on his side.

"Go on and kill him."

"Pardon lord?"

"Kill him. Everyone else is busy. Kill him. He's only got a bow. It should be easy enough."

"But—"

He went to protest, but could not think of an alternative. Perhaps it would be possible… if he simply dodged, surely he could close the gap easy enough?

"Go on, hurry up."

Toda tapped on the tip of the arrow playfully, as the maddening smile calved into his men-yoroi started to seem even more fitting.

"Agh…"

He barely held back a fully-fledged scream, as he fumbled with the scabbard of his sword, and hastily drew it. He briefly wondered whether to be grateful that his dominant arm was not the one that was injured, and then decided against it, resuming the current of rage that he felt toward the black horseman.

"YAH!"

He spurred his horse into motion, holding his sword high in his single arm.

SWOOSH

An arrow aimed for his head immediately put him back in his place. It would have taken his eye had he not managed to dodge to the side at the very last second, instead, a deep cut manifest itself on his cheek.

He gulped, feeling the slightest chill of fear, wondering just what kind of bowman he was dealing with.

He spurred his horse forwards, encouraging the rage to grow so that it might swallow the fear. The distance between the two closed, as the mounted bowman continued to gallop forwards, not fearing a close-range battle in the least.

200 metres.

'My god… The size of that bow!"

He had been around mounted bowmen a good deal, in the form of Ochi's men, but not once had he seen anyone capable of wielding a full-sized yumi on horseback… The version they used was almost half the size. And he did it with such precision, with no signs of awkwardness.

He began to sweat, his sword still raised high in the air. The arrows grew ever closer. He began to move more sporadically, intent on confusing the bowman's aim by travelling from side to side.

It worked, for a time.

100 metres.

SPLURGH

Another arrow made its way into his left arm.

"AAGGGH!"

He roared in pain, his raised sword quivering, threatening to fall.

'Surely… This can't be…?'

He wondered whether he would meet his end at the hands of this bowman. The way the man was dressed caused the acid in his stomach to begin to rise. The man was a mere peasant.

"Haha!"

He started to laugh maniacally, wondering if this was the cruelty of the gods. They wished for him to meet his death by the hands of someone from the very class he wished to escape.

Though there was something odd. The kimono he wore was not that of a peasant, it was that of someone higher up, a guard perhaps.

He started to see meaning where there was none.

'He's like me then… Half peasant, half something else.'

His rage was dying, replaced by a numbing fear as his thoughts went toward death, and the arrows grew ever close to claiming his life.

50 metres.

An arrow buried its way into the upper part of his chest, puncturing a lung. It was so deep that he could not cry out in pain. Blood spurted up from his mouth, and the grip on his sword grew looser, still he did not allow it to drop.

The distance was closing too fast. The bowman would not have time to nock another arrow.

He smiled grimly, his lips a blood red.

'At least I can take you with me, you bastard!'

He prepared to swing downwards as their horses passed by each other.

But the man betrayed his expectations, attempting something outlandish.

He discarded his bow, lifting his feet up from the stirrups and onto the saddle. He squatted, his hands on the reigns. Slowly and tentatively, he released them, putting his arms out wide to retain his balance, and just before their horses passed each other, he launched himself with the full momentum of a speeding horse.

Gengyo caught the retainer midswing, so that instead of meeting the blade, the only thing that hit him was the hilt. He speared the man off the horse, crashing to the ground on top of him.

Both landed heavily, winded, though Gengyo's fall was cushioned slightly by the man's body.

They struggled fiercely, as both – though in serve pain, and lacking breath – fought for their lives. In this tight grapple, the retainer could not move his sword in the least, and he was virtually an arm down.

Gengyo sent a fist crashing down into his cheek, beating him savagely. The man tried with all his might to pull his katana free, and drive it into the soft flesh of his belly, but the gods were not with him that day. His rage was no match for the godlike determination with which the young man fought.

And as he barely held onto his consciousness - after having his brain resound off his skull countless times with each strike that pounded his face – he noted those eyes, and it was only then that he realized he never stood a chance. The boy held a will that he did not have, he feared, no matter the situation, he could never defeat him, unless he found such a purpose himself.

Just before his weapon was wrenched from his grasp, and the pointed blade was driven through his throat, he asked a question in a breathless voice.

"Why… Do… You… Fight?"

SPLURT

It was not a question he could answer with words. He knew of some of the components: he wished to protect those dear to him. But that was not all he felt. That could not explain the fire that burned within his blood, giving him the energy to accomplish any task. There was much more, but he knew he would not find answers by sharing conversation with a dead man.

"Holy fucking shit." Kitajo breathed. The rest of the unit shared the sentiment. They'd been under a continuous hail of arrows, but by now, a rhythm had been adopted, and their anxious hearts drifted toward the one this whole plan relied on, and soon their eyes follow.

They'd seen the swordsman ride toward their leader with a hint of worry, knowing the absolute advantage a katana held over a bow once the range was closed.

But seeing him pounce from his horse without a hint of hesitation, and beat the man to death, they could not help but feel fired up.

Even as they stood in front of 50 men, armed with only their bows, they dared to hope of victory.

"Can we actually do this?"

A guard asked, for the first time feeling hope.

"Of course we can. Keep your eyes on that man – he's my brother."

Masaatsu said confidently, with pride.

Gengyo took the scabbard from the retainer's corpse, hanging it around his waist, before sheathing the katana alongside it.

He walked casually to retrieve his bow, eyeing Toda who watched him without a hint of emotion.

The horses had not gone too far away, and he remounted Ishiyama's black stallion.

He held his bow up high in one hand, and reared his horse upwards.

"TODA! IT'S TIME TO PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES!"

Chapter 49: A Life That Matters

Yari troops! Engage that man on the horse."

He spoke with indifference, as though he could not see any possible threat. Of course, the unmounted men would never be capable of catching Gengyo, unless he made a fatal mistake. But they could make things mightily difficult, as they did now, half charging toward him, and the other half forming a wall around Toda.

If he had more arrows in his quiver, it might have been possible to simply pick the men off one by one until there were none to defend their master, but unfortunately for him, his ammunition was not bottomless.

He urged his horse forward, his bow clasped as though he was ready to fire. The soldiers roared out aggressively, seeing the chance to dismount him as he nearly entered the range of their yari.

His veered sharply right, ditching any of the soldiers that had managed to keep up, and completely passing the wall created by their charge.

Now the field was open, and the only threat to his rear. Toda sat, dismounted, hiding behind his men - whose spears pointed out - as though he were inside of some war-loving tortoise's shell.

He spared him the briefest of glances, pulling his bowstring back. Toda responded by ducking further down amongst his men, not offering even the slightest hair on his head to be aimed at.

SPLUT

"ARGHH"

The sound of his men dying, to which the snake-like man was completely indifferent. He peaked out through the gaps offered by his men's legs, wondering why the scream had been further away from him than might be expected.

Only, his vision was obscured by the bodies of his yari wielders charging past, roaring loudly, as they struggled – as per their lord's command – to keep up with the mounted man.

SPLUT

"ARGHH"

An almost identical set of sounds rang out. At this point, Toda deemed it might be worth the risk of taking a glance out over the top of the bodies.

He stood up straight, easily seeing over the heads of his men due to his height.

"Fuck!"

He cursed, for the first time feeling the first trembling of discontent.

"What are you doing, you animals!? Get over there and stop him killing our men!"

That monstrous man on his horse no longer wielded his bow in hand – that was slung over his shoulder. His armour was splattered with ruby droplets of blood, covering him all the way up his arm, and decorating his face.

He wielded his sword with precision, staying a good deal ahead of his pursuers. Those he hunted held the wood of their weapon up in a pitiful form of defence, only to have it sliced in half, and the metal of a sharp sword plunged into their throat.

They soon learned to run, but when a lion is hungry, it will not stop until it has had its fill. He chased them down ruthlessly, even as they ran in opposing directions. The yari behind him were not given the chance to catch up.

The three remaining bowmen ran toward their spear-wielding comrades, utilising every drop of energy in their body to try and outrun this demonic horseman.

They passed through the spearman's ranks, and carried on running, whimpering with each glance they took back. The black horse and his rider did not slow their pursuit in the least. It was as though he did not see the wall before him. And with his last three arrows, he drew his bow, and claimed their lives.

He barely managed to reign his galloping horse in before the wall of spears punctured his chest. He turned swiftly, speeding toward his comrades.

He arrived by their side, still looking in the direction of his pursuing enemies. They were tiring fast, but still chose to keep up the chase. They neared. 120 metres. 110. The distance growing ever shorter.

His men looked up at him in awe. He had single-handedly slaughtered their greatest obstacle. The act of killing a man who was armed with nought but a bow was not impressive in the least, but doing so when those bowmen were so close to their yari companions was beyond bold. If he had slowed in the slightest, he and his horse would have become a pincushion for 25 spears.

"Focus your fire on those 25 men. If they get too close, run, I'll hold them up."

"Yes sir!"

A guard responded instinctively, only a second later realizing how he addressed him. It was an instinctive reaction to the ease with which the boy commanded, and after the spectacle he had just shown them, it felt like a crime to not show him the highest respect.

Masaatsu struggled to hide his smile. It was a fact, he thought, that there was not a single man quite like his brother.

The unit drew back their bows, sending a volley of arrows toward the approaching men.

FLOOM

An easy target. Every single one of their arrows landed, though some decorated the same target. 12 Men fell in the initial volley.

"I'm out!"

A guard called, waving his empty quiver to illustrate his point. Gengyo acknowledged it with a nod, before turning back to face the horde of angry guardsmen who were drawing ever closer.

50 metres.

FLOOM

In the second volley, 10 men fell.

"I'm out too, brother!"

Masaatsu called.

"Me too!"

Kitajo seconded, looking rather worried.

"Same here!"

A guardsmen called.

"We're all out."

Niiro commented pointedly, ceasing the continuous stream of notifications.

30 metres.

"If you have confidence, step forward. I do not think I am capable of dealing with 3 spearmen alone."

Gengyo stood in front of his men, astride on his horse, sword drawn. The opponents were filled with rage. Their comrades had been killed all around them. And by who? Mere peasants. If they could simply close the gap, even one of them, they would hold the advantage.

The first man ran into range, thrusting his spear toward the horse's undercarriage. Gengyo leaned low, and awkwardly brushed his strike aside.

He barely had time to regain his balance before the next point was closing in, aiming for his lowered head. He moved out its path by a fraction, though a line was still drawn in blood beside his eye.

And then the third - almost immediately after the second – was virtually impossible to dodge. He was tilted to one side of his horse, having just dodged the previous blow, and now the sharpened tip of the speed neared his chest.

He raised the point of his sword in a futile attempt to block the fatal blow. But it would never make it in time. The best he could do was to dodge just enough to avoid harming any of his vital organs.

SMACK

Suddenly, the spear was wrenched backwards, before falling to the ground. On top of its wielder sat Masaatsu, who beat the aggressor savagely, until his bow snapped in half, and then he resorted to plain fists.

It did not take the rest of the men much longer to follow either, as Niiro cracked his bow over the back of one of the spear wielders heads, sending him crashing to the floor. A pair of guards – inspired by the courage of the commoners – wrest the spear of the last guard from his grasp, before one kicked him in the chest, and the other drove its point through his throat.

Gengyo watched the chaos, momentarily startled. In truth, he had expected nothing. It would have been perfectly natural for them to remain idle, for they were virtually unarmed. He would not even have found fault in them for doing so.

But despite the risks, and despite the lack of weaponry, they had saved him from a bloody, and possibly ruinous fight. He could not fathom their motivation, but he did know one thing: he was glad to lead such courageous men.

A current passed through his body, seeing them going to work, and now, even in the midst of battle, covered in blood, he found himself smiling.

But he could not remain cheery for long. Even if the enemy had suffered such serve losses, it did not count for much unless they were to take Toda's head. The state of Nakatane's battle remained uncertain, so their best chance at victory lay in their hands.

But now, the one thing that they had to their advantage had been used up, and Toda was still snuggly surrounded by his remaining 25 guards. To him, that was likely a victory, for there was nothing his enemy could do to him now. He merely had to sit and wait for Ochi to return, and then the rebels would be slaughtered like dogs.

"Men, I have something to ask of you."

Gengyo began, attracting his unit's attention.

Those that had bloodied their hands stood up, some holding one of the three spears that they had pilfered.

"You've killed many men today, as have I. But the one man whose life matters is still sitting over there, safe behind his men."

He pointed to Toda, who had remounted, but was still sitting inside his circle of guards.

"We are bow ashigaru. But before that, we are men of Toyone. And though our arrows have run out, is our fight over?"

"No!"

A peasant man pounded his spear against the ground. His face was fierce and firm.

The rest found themselves nodding in agreement with him.

"Will we take up arms, and continue? The advantage we had is long since lost. But if we manage to claim Toda's life, it is possible to win this fight even with the small numbers we have."

Masaatsu walked slowly away from the gathered men. Their eyes followed him, watching him go. He knelt beside the body of a fallen man with an arrow through his chest. Unpeeling the dead fingers, he clasped the weapon firmly, and called out.

"I am with you, brother!"

Gengyo nodded toward his sibling gratefully, before turning his gaze to the rest of the men.

"How about the rest of you? Will you stand here, alongside me, and secure absolute victory for the village? Will you put an end to Toda's terrible treatment today? Or will we suffer under his foul ruling?"

The man from earlier spoke once more, but hesitantly, feeling a certain pressure due to the weapon in his hand.

"I… I will fight!"

"Good man."

Niiro looked from the man, back to Gengyo, shaking his head.

"Look lad… This is… Unwise. You've done miracles so far… but this… this won't come cheaply. That aside, I'm with you. I don't have many years left – better me than one of you youngin's eh?"

"I agree. That's for the rest of you too. There is a very good chance that we will die. However, I will still make this promise: Toda will die alongside us."

"Fuck it…"

A guard cursed, before continuing, raising his spear upwards, and his blood boiling.

"…I'm in too!"

His buddy next to him watched him carefully, before mimicking his motion, lifting his spear skyward.

"Well, if you're in, I'm in too. Let's put this bastard to rest!"

"Me too!"

A peasant man hurried to retrieve a weapon, before announcing his participation.

Before long, the vast majority had armed themselves with a yari, yet one lad still remained.

"Kitajo. You don't have to join us. None of us would hold it against you."

He was visibly quivering. Ever the nervous boy, a scenario that spelt almost certain death was something he wanted to avoid more than anything. Yet he could not bring himself to speak the words of dismissal.

He clenched his fist tightly, not calming even as his nails tore open the soft flesh of his palm. He bit his lips, drawing blood, staring toward the ground as his tears began to fall.

"I'll… I'll do it, Miura-kun… I'll do it."

Gengyo retrieved two spears, before handing one to the lad, dismounting his horse as he did so. With a pat on his shoulder, he welcomed him.

"You're a courageous lad, Kitajo-kun. Let's get through this, yeah?"

"Mhm…"

He agreed, taking the spear in unsteady hands.

Chapter 50: A True Monster

Ochi's fight with the lion-hearted retainers continued, with his advantage only growing. The battling around them had begun to stabilize, with the weaker men dying off first on both sides. The tide of war no longer tipped in either group's favour, though the number of horsemen soon started to match the number of spearmen.

The unmounted men found themselves grouping together in twos. A certain duo – who had spent the majority of their time together ever since they were children – fought back to back.

"Aritada… you holding up?"

Yoritomo asked through ragged breath, as he and the burly horseman attacking him allowed each other a brief respite, trying to look for any gaps in the other's defence.

Redirecting a downwards swing with a heave of exertion, his buddy gave voice to the affirmative.

"Aye… Barely. Ishiyama and Jikouji aren't doing so good though… Someone needs to help them out."

He struck out with his spear finding the flesh of the horse's upper thigh. The beast snorted in protest, rearing up. His experienced rider managed to stay in the saddle, but his mount was by no means fine. It was lucky to still be standing, never mind with such a weight pressing down upon it's back.

Yoritomo found similar success. Using the briefest moment when his aggressor's eyes drifted away from their duel, he thrust out at lightning speed, not giving him any time to react. The sharpened stake at the end of his polearm burrowed its way through the muscle of the mercenaries' shoulder.

The force of the strike proved to be substantial. As well as tearing open the man's shoulder, he was able to knock him from his saddle, sending him crashing to the floor. Before he had any time to recover, the young man's bloodied yari punctured his chest, sending him to hell with the rest of his comrades.

He quickly whirled around to help his buddy, overwhelming the injured horse with a jab to its side. It was not a terribly damaging strike, but that, coupled with it's an earlier injury, was far more than the horse wished to handle. It collapsed sidewards, willing to do anything to dull the pain.

Having already anticipated that his horse – at some point in the near future – would fall, the rider had already freed himself from the stirrups, and gracefully rolled to his feet, wielding a katana in each hand and grinning with a mouth full of black teeth.

"Ya whunt to die boyeh?"

He asked, in a thick accent, his words barely recognisable.

Even if he were to ask them in Spanish, the intent would still be understood, and their reply would be the same.

"Get fucked saddle muncher."

Aritada responded, wiping the sweat from his brow as he closed in with aggression, intent on finishing the fight quickly now that he had Yoritomo to help him.

The sharpness of his spear point was guided away with ease by the two katana, but the other spear point – sent out at much the same time – was a different story, as it tore off a chunk from the side of his belly.

The man grunted, losing his grip on one of the swords so that he might mourn his injury with an attempt at stemming the relentless flow of gushing blood.

In that moment of weakness, his life was claimed as two spears pierced his torso, lifting his feet off the floor.

They freed their weapons and glanced around the battlefield, thoroughly exhausted from the time spent doing battle.

"You've improved again, Yoritomo."

Aritada commented idly, as though they were not in a battlefield at all, but inside a dojo. It was an odd sensation. They had been fighting for so long that though he was trembling with fear, his adrenaline no longer permeated throughout his bloodstream, and his thoughts drifted toward the mundane.

"As have you, bro."

There were numerous scraps going on, but from a casual glance, they could not see anyone that needed help.

Morohira had been shouting for a good while, his energy never seeming to dip. He was a fierce fighter, and many of the foes had fallen at his feet. He did not have much technique - aside from his spear thrust – but what he lacked in technicalities, he made up for in spirit, and pure animal aggression.

Many men that battle had fallen at his feet. He sprinted here and there, fighting with whatever he could get his hands on. His spear had long since been discarded after it was rendered a splintered mess, and now he fought with an axe in each hand, both from separate men that he had slain.

He fought with such barbarism, and was covered in so much blood, that at times the enemy had trouble telling him apart from their own.

A lithe mercenary pointed his spear toward him from the back of his horse, picking him as his next opponent. Both were decorated in blood, and it was sure to be a gruesome clash.

The horse galloped, and Morohira followed, sprinting in toward its side. He swung his axes as though to strike, and upon instinct, the slender rider shielded his horses flank with the metallic shaft of his spear.

But it was the greatest of miscalculations. His predictions were based on logic. But there was none that could constrain Morohira. The swinging of his axes had merely been a side effect of the swinging of his arms. And that still was a mere offshoot of a more bold intent.

He sprung upwards, using his powerful legs, and catching the rider full force, sending him crashing from his mount. It was over in an instant, with an axe buried in the startled man's skull, freeing him from all the ailments of mortality.

He gruffly wiped the blood from his face with the back of his palm, looking around the battlefield for the next man.

Overwhelmed by the powerful concoction of lifesaving hormones that were swimming around in his, he let out a bellowing roar.

"AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR!"

Smashing the fists that wielded the axes together.

The two boys watched such an aggressive fighter, turning white. Could that still be called human?

"Think he could take on the big fucker?"

Aritada asked, referring to Ochi.

"Dunno… But I don't want to try asking."

Morohira was doing a fine job thinning the enemies number's as well, so to bring him away from the carnage of a the multipersoned fight might be to their disadvantage in the long run anyway.

Still leaning heavily on his spear – though his breath was gradually returning – Aritada's gaze was captured by an object by his feet, and after a flash of inspirations, his fingers were soon working on the fist-sized rock, loosening it.

He tossed it up and down in his hand, smiling.

"Now this… This is something we can do."

After the years spent practising throwing stones at Tadakata, his aim was rather good, and with the size of the mammoth's bulbous head, there was not a single chance of him missing.

TCK

It resounded off the bare head with a distinctive hollow sound, as though he had hit a chunk of wood instead. The giant visibly flinched, but could not spare them the time to turn around, as his attention was entirely occupied by the two in front of him.

"Hoho… I like where you're going with this, Aritada."

Yoritomo found a rock of his own, and launched it toward the giant. His aim was a little off, and he only succeeded in hitting the top of his shoulder, but still it was enough to distract him.

Ishiyama, though greatly exhausted and with an almost unfathomable amount injuries, still kept his calm and analysed the intervals in which the giant's attention wavered.

He did not know who was providing such a distraction, but whoever it was, he was grateful.

After a time – at least to the two throwing stones – the effectiveness appeared to wear off.

"Damn it… Come on, we're moving in."

Aritada moved forth, spear in hand, completely disregarding all his instincts that cried out, warning him of how dangerous that man was.

After a brief paused, Yoritomo followed, discarding the rock that he had been about to throw.

The giant's back was toward them, and there wasn't the slightest hint that he could defend. But something made them hold back from striking. Even without him looking toward them, it felt like a mistake to imagine him as defenceless.

Looking down at his shaking hands clasped upon his spear, and his arms that refused to move, Aritada shook his head roughly, attempting to dispel his irrational fear.

He thrust out quickly, his strike containing his pure intent to kill, aiming toward the centre of the mammoth's torso.

SHINK

But his strike never made it to it's intended target. There was a sudden blur in his vision, and then he felt a force upon his pole, redirecting his spear toward the side.

He frowned, striking again, motioning for his friend to do so as well.

SHINK

The first strike was once more deflected, whilst the second was dodged by the tiniest of margins.

Ishiyama caught sight of their baffled faces, fully understanding the emotion that they were feeling. Such speed shouldn't exist. Nor should such power. It was not wrong to say they were dealing with a monster.

But that was not to say having the two extra boys did not work to their advantage. It allowed Ishiyama and Jikouji the briefest of respites so that they might launch a move aggressive, and therefore more effective attack.

Only, they were rapidly nearing complete exhaustion, whilst that giant had yet to even sweat. With every second they spent fighting, the pain continued to grow worse as the effects of the adrenaline wore off. The more the fight dragged on, the more of a disadvantage they were at.

As Ochi's naginata snaked behind his back - dealing with the swift spear thrust that was targeting his torso – Ishiyama went in with speed, getting in closer than he ever had before. He prevented the giant from swinging his point back around, and allowed Jikouji to deal out a series of strikes.

He went for the single unguarded piece of the mammoth's body: his free arm. It was of such size, and composed of so much dense muscle that it likely weighed the same as an average man's body.

The old man riddled it with cuts, struggling to strike a tendon and render it useless. He almost succeeded in slicing through the bicep, but the arm was moved at the last second, and he had to settle for a lump of forearm.

Still, it was not a negligible wound. It would surely render that arm difficult to use for a time.

Or not. That line of thought was instantly proved wrong as that great tree trunk assumed the speed of a serpent, and coiled it's thick fingers around Ishiyama's neck, imprisoning him.

The grip was tight, and though the leader of Nakatane's guards struggled, he could not loosen it. He was lifted off his feet, high into the air. The pressure upon his neck increased, cutting off his oxygen supply.

Though his lungs had all but gone to the grave, his fight had not yet died. He stabbed again and again on the giants arm, wielding his wakizashi with a brutal urgency.

The other men were kept at bay using his now freed naginata, and no matter how many wounds Ishiyama inflicted, the terrifying grip never seemed to loosen, and he began to walk a one-way path to hell.

Chapter 51: A Pyrrhic Victory

They watched Ishiyama being plucked from the ground in dismay, attacking with a renewed vigour. But the monstrous man that was Ochi regarded them lightly. From the start, one hand was all he had used, and now, even though the other was occupied, nothing had changed. He proceeded to slowly crush the life out of the entrapped man, whilst turning side-on, so that he could give his three attackers the attention they deserved.

The head guard's face started to turn a frightening shade of blue, and his strikes to the mammoth's arm became even less effective. His legs stopped their kicking, and eventually he became rather still.

"ISHIYAMA!"

Jikouji cried out, attacking desperately, trying to cut him free.

The cry awoke a weakened Nakatane, who was barely hanging onto his life. His eyes opened by the tiniest of fractions, just in time to see Ishiyama being pulled toward Ochi's open mouth.

This was war. And war was bloody. But there was a line that very few dared to cross. Helplessly, they watched their fallen comrade being raised up, as though he were some tender chicken leg.

Feeling a violent sickness rise within their stomachs, they could do nought but watch as the giant opened his mouth wide, aiming his sharp teeth toward the soft flesh of Ishiyama's neck.

He tore open through the skin with great delight, not because he wished to pursue a finer flavour, but merely because he relished the fear such an act inspired in those around him. And who could blame them for being frightened? Who could look into the eyes of a man that could commit cannibalism so easily without feeling even the slightest chill of fear?

Jikouji fell to his knees, horrified, watching as his dear friend met his end by the mouth of a giant who's lips were stained with his blood.

Yoritomo was no better. Unable to stomach such a sickly sight, he heaved up the entire contents of his stomach, not stopping even when all that came up was but a thin clear liquid.

Aritada stood shivering, struggling to comprehend such devilism.

And their lord, Nakatane, let out of the faintest of whispers.

"Ishiyama… fight…"

SPLURT

A deadened arm once more regained life, forcing the point of carefully sharpened wakizashi through the unguarded eye of a feasting mammoth.

It slid in with such ease, and so quietly. The only thing that made a noise was the pressured stream of blood that spurted out.

A man once thought to be a monster let out a very human cry, his muscles twitching reflexively as he cast away his prisoner with force, sending him hurtling into a tree. His fingers reached for the hilt of the blade, grasping it tentatively, before pulling it from his eye with a roar.

He whirled around widely, like a wounded bear, struggling to see. But his efforts were cut short, as the bloodied point of Aritada's spear made its way through his chest.

He turned his head to face the boy, who was still quivering in fear, white as a sheet. His body convulsed violently, before he let out a mouthful of blood, the thick droplets sliding across the smooth wood, before making their way to the ground.

His hands made their way toward the spear, grasping it firmly. Dismayed, Aritada dropped the spear, overcome by a deep fear, watching the man slowly slide himself off the thick wood.

He grunted slightly from the exertion, wiping the blood from his mouth.

SWISH

With a gentle sound, the air flashed, and a chunk was cut out of the big man's neck.

Despite his head being half severed, Ochi's eyes still flickered behind him, looking toward the old man that had struck at him – a testament to his incredible will.

But even as he attempted to struggle with the spear once more, the next strike was already on its way, and with a clean slice, his head was cut away from his body. It rolled off, hitting the ground with a resounding thunk, whilst his body remained skewered on the spear, before life left his legs, and he fell crashing to the floor.

"AH!"

Yoritomo shouted as the head rolled near his feet, looking up at him, and blinked one final time before life was completely snuffed out.

Jikouji – who could barely remain standing – ran over to the fallen Ishiyama, searching for any signs of life. There was no movement within the body, but there was a sickening depression visible in the back of his skull where it had fractured upon smashing against the tree root.

A tear ran down the old man's cheek as he came to the realization that he would never hear his friend speak again. But despite his horrific injuries, the man – who in life had shown very little emotion – had a satisfied smile etched upon his face.

"You did it Ishiyama… You really did it…"

He spoke mournfully. Even Aritada and Yoritomo who had not known the man nearly as well as him were greatly saddened by his death, for he was undoubtedly a courageous man.

Nakatane barely clung on to his consciousness, his hand still struggling to stem the flow of blood that was leaking from his side. It had slowed down considerably, but he was still in no state to move. Yet he pulled himself to his feet regardless, much to the dismay of Jikouji, who ran to his side, supporting his shoulder.

"Nakatane! You musn't walk! You should remain there, and allow us to bring your doctors to you."

"And when might that be?"

He asked in a thin voice that was all but a whisper.

There was nothing the old man could say.

"The battle is far from over, Jikouji."

In front of them the last few stragglers were still battling it out. Many corpses littered the forest, and a stench of blood hung on the air. It was difficult to walk without someone's innards clinging to the soles of your feet.

The bodies of horses lay scattered everywhere, almost as frequently seen as humans, but a good few still hung around, riderless.

With a final swing Morohira claimed the life of the last man.

It was hard to cheer at their victory, for it had been most pyrrhic. A more dismal scene it would be hard to imagine. Of the 80 men who had started the war, barely twenty remained. Perhaps a colder man might call that a good amount, considering the amount of men they had to deal with. Yet every single life lost was something that could not be brought back, and so, with their victory, it was hard to wonder whether they had truly gained anything.

This should not be said to undermine their achievements, however. Every single one of them fought like winged lions, truly earning their place amongst the living. It was a feat that very few men could replicate. Those that survived were the best of the best. Even if they still quivered in fear. Even if their garb was still that of a peasant. I put it to you that these men had the blood of gods running through their veins, and it was to Japan's eternal misfortune that their names were not better known.

…

…

The sound of approaching horses filled Gengyo's men – who were busy arming themselves – with a painstaking nervousness. Who would they find mounted? If it was Ochi, they would die. If it was Nakatane… Well, they still might die.

"No… It's not coming from the forest."

Kitajo commented fearfully, straining his ears.

What he claimed was proved to be true a moment later, as around the bend of the track that led into Tobishima, a group of galloping horsemen were revealed.

Gengyo's heart sank as he wondered whether to give the order to retreat to his men. There were revealed to be ten armoured horsemen, wearing a garb that he was familiar with. It was the same style that the guards wore when they accompanied Toda on that day, five days prior.

And behind them, there was a fat old man seated on a small pony, and looking very confused as to what was going on.

They neared the two groups that were facing off, and snippets of conversation could be overheard.

"What's all this? This isn't what you promised when you brought me here!"

The old man exclaimed huffily, like some giant middle-aged child.

"Shut up fatty. Toda, the fuck's going on sir?"

The odd mixture of respect and disrespect made their relationship seem complicated, and even more so still when his lord completely ignored his way of addressing him.

"Where's all the men gone, sir? Don't tell me you lost them to this rabble? Want us to kill them?"

Another man chimed in, shooting the guards who were surrounding Toda a condescending look.

"No. Get over here, and be quiet."

They obeyed his command, arriving by his side, but the second part of that order was a little more difficult.

"Sir. That fatty is the 'buisnessman' you asked us to bring."

Toda shot him a look of annoyance.

"Yes – I'd guessed."

The rotund man took that moment to chime in, his chin wobbling as he did so, causing beads of sweat to flick onto the ground.

"You're Toda? This is not at all what I had expected. Your men told me that you would have a business opportunity for me, but have not even won the battle yet!"

Toda watched him talk with disgust, his despise for the shape of the other's body not very well hidden.

"The battle will be won very soon."

"In that case, I will come back later – you should have brought me along when you weren't ready. The business I deal in is a ris-"

He was cut off by a drawn sword pointed toward his throat.

"If you continue talking, I will kill you."

The merchant gulped deeply, his Adam's apple being caressed by the cold steel blade. One look into the other's eyes, and he knew he was deadly serious. No matter how hard he looked, he could not find a trace of warmth.

One of the mounted guardsmen struggled to hold in a laugh, seeing the state the wobbling businessman had gotten himself into.

"Mmfhh… What are we doing about this lot boss?"

He stifled it, pretending it was merely the start of a question instead.

Toda sheathed his blade, and returned his gaze to the peasants before him, who had now armed themselves with the spears of his fallen men. He felt a degree of familiarity for the man on the black stallion, but struggle to place his face.

But he had decided on one thing: that man would suffer. This battle was not meant to be taxing in the least, and then this peasant had rolled along, seemingly on a whim – since the rest of his people had already fled – and was causing havoc amongst his troops.

"We wait. There is nothing they can do, and once that oaf Ochi comes back, they'll be crushed like the ants they are."

"Hoh… If you say so. Hey, boss, is that a bow ashigaru unit?"

Toda went red with anger, as he sensed the contempt within that question.

"You shut up as well! Don't think I won't kill you too!"

He flailed around, throwing threats. The men did not take him seriously, and most barely managed to hold back their laughter. To lose more than half your men to a single unit of bow ashigaru was a joke. Sure, he was a man that had the money to spare, but this was just plain wasteful.

Chapter 52: A Final Charge

"Miura-san, sir, what the hell do we do?"

The men were rattled, and rightly so. Their already slim chances at victory had grown even slimmer. It would be wise to retreat… yet after coming this far, it felt brutal to have to give up.

Gengyo stroked his chin, trying to come up with an alternate plan of attack. But with the numbers they had, and with no arrows left, there were very few options open to them.

He sighed, desperately wanting to cut off Toda's head, but he felt wrong forcing the men to do so.

"The odds are not in our favour. If would be better to retreat."

He turned his horse away, and began to walk toward the forest at a slow trot. It was a decision he did not want to make, but it was likely the right one.

"No…"

A small voice spoke out from behind him. The men turned, surprised.

"Kitajo..?"

Gengyo asked tentatively, struggling to believe what he was hearing.

The boy reaffirmed his motivation, grasping his spear tighter, and hardening his face. He was unable to hide the fear, but he spoke again this time, stronger.

"No! We can't leave it like this. You called me brave, Miura-san…"

He sniffed, struggling to continue.

"No one has ever called me brave. Everyone has always called me a coward… But I haven't done anything yet! I haven't fought with this feeling. You're the brave man, Miura-san!"

"I know you want to fight… I can see it. Everyone here knows you do... I'm scared. Really scared. But you're far braver than me - than any of us! If it's you, Miura-san, then we can win! We can kill that bastard!"

He spoke passionately, even as his eyes clouded with tears. Everyone knew how hard that was for him to say. And because they knew that, what he said was all the more powerful.

Gengyo could say nothing. His gaped, his mouth opened. He had never thought his actions – and his words – would have such an effect on people.

"Fuck it… If that little shrimp isn't going to run, then what would the rest of us be like if we did?"

A guard spoke, grinding his teeth. It was a hard choice to make.

His words brought murmurs of agreement through the men.

"Aye. I'll fight as well. Ain't much left in this world for me. Wife died a few years past. I'll be honest with you fellas – this is the most excitement I've had in decades. I'm in, lad. Let's cut that fucker to pieces."

Niiro spoke next, stepping up to stand beside the guard and Kitajo. There was nothing Gengyo could offer them, aside from a nod filled with the utmost respect. These were brave men.

"You're a brilliant man, little brother. Even if these men had not chosen to stand beside you, I always would. You've saved us countless times – let me help to save you."

Masaatsu then turned to face the rest of the men who had not yet spoken, his long hair whipping around as he did so.

"And what about the rest of you? I've given up on living today. I care not for it. I will throw away my life without the slightest hesitation for the chance to stand beside my brother, and achieve the glory that he speaks of."

"Do you not tire of being simple peasantry, and simple guards? Surely you feel it. There's something here. Our fingers are wrapped around the strings of fate. It's up to us. We of low birth have been chosen to decide the outcome of a samurai's battle. This is the pinnacle of my life. I've never felt such energy. I am honoured to serve at my brother's side."

He spoke with the vigour and passion of a general. Listening to him, Gengyo felt a chill crawl up his spine. To think there would be such a great man that thought so highly of him.

The men were as affected by the speech as he, and those that hesitated found the courage to move forward.

"To hell it with it… I'm here! The kid's right. This is our moment to prove our worth!"

"Aye! I used to dream of this as a boy. And now my time has come. I'm scared – fuck it, I'm terrified – but I'll be damned if I live the rest of my life in regret."

"I'm with you lad!"

The cries rang out, and morale soared. Spears were raised high, and intents were solidified. Despite the overwhelming disadvantage they sat at. Despite the complete lack of a plan. Despite their lack of experience. Despite their intense fear. In that moment – though they were putting their lives on the line – for the first time in their years of existence, they had finally begun to live.

There were no words that could do such passion justice, and so, their commander did not speak any. Instead, he grinned widely, inspired by their courage, as he hoisted his spear high into the air to reciprocate their calling.

With a heel to the side of his horse, he began to trot forward toward their foes. In that moment, their emotions were so in tune with one another, that a formation did not even need to be spoken. The men assumed a casual arrowhead as though they had been doing such a thing since the day they were born.

Their speed matched that of their leader's mount, and they ran forward, closing the distance between them and their enemies, their spears fully extended, ready to tear apart all that stood in their way.

"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

A fierce cry ran out as they charged. A cry that was fuelled with a life time's worth of emotion. They felt not a single aching in their bodies, nor the slightest niggle of pain. Their condition was perfect.

The long grass cowered away from their mighty step, and they accelerated forward, growing every closer to the baffled enemy, who could not believe that there would be any foolish enough to charge so mindlessly to their deaths.

But that was exactly what they were – fools. The most high-class fools that had ever lived. The intensity of their feeling, and the ferocity of their morale cowered the enemy, who feared facing their aggressive assault head-on.

Orders were called out by a green serpent, and a wall of 25 spears was formed in front of them. Mounted men kicked their horses into action, aiming to pincer their flank once the charge had been met.

Even as these vicious points stabbed outwards, begging to claim their lives, not a single man cowered. They did not even slow. Instead, they sped up, reaching a faster speed than they ever had in their lives. Any limiter placed upon their muscle usage was removed, as mind and body truly connected.

A black stallion charged forward, forming the point of this arrowhead. A spear was brandished, and only a single man entered the rider's eyes. He ignored the yari wall, and focused every fibre in his body on killing a single man.

He raised himself up to the saddle, with more ease than he had that time before. He crouched like a hunting tiger, his balance impeccable, and his intent merciless.

VWOOF

A heavy impact. Their momentum was substantial, and the great beastly black warhorse forced a sizeable gap in the wall of men. They pierced him with their spears, wounding him deeply, but he refused to go down. He reared, kicking out with his front legs, before brutalising them with his rear hooves.

The rest of the arrowhead met the wall a second later, widening the gap, and killing many with the initial mad charge.

A venomous man squealed in fear as he kicked his horse desperately, willing it to move.

It was far too late, however. The crouching tiger had already begun its leap. The distance between the two of them was immense, and not something that could be traversed in a single jump.

And yet, he was threatening to do just that. A barrage of spears punctured his body, slowing him by a mere fraction, but he barely felt it. There was only one man in his eyes.

His leap, even with the momentum of their charge, had proved to be too short. There was no way he could make it. But nor was this his queue to give up. Wielding the heavy yari in a single arm, he begged his muscles to let loose their fullest capacity, and lend stability to his strike.

His arm extended forwards at a speed that should not have been possible, and his strike remained true.

SPLUT

A wound appeared on the serpent's throat. A wound of the smallest proportion, inflicted by the very tip of the sharp steel yari.

He clawed at it, wondering why such a tiny stab was yielding so much blood. He began to choke, terrified. His eyes bulged as he struggled for air.

Feeling left his legs, and he started to real sideways, before his body went numb and he fell to the floor, dead.

The smallest of smiles was present on Gengyo's lips as he felt his vision blacken, and allowed his consciousness to fade. He fell to the floor, victorious.

He did not know what had transpired from this point out, but had he seen it, then it is likely that he would be unable to hold back his tears.

The men's morale had soured to a height that they had not reached even as they charged. They burst through the wall of men, and surrounded Gengyo's body, fighting like a bear that had its cubs threatened. Not a single blade, nor a single spear managed to reach their commander's body after that. They fought on, all but overwhelmed by the mass of people that pressed against them. They fought bitterly, for the longest of times, doing more than humanly possible.

Not a single one of them showed weakness. And not a single one of them regretted their decision. They fought with the courage of lions, and even when they were covered in injuries, the men refused to go down.

They would have happily died that day. But with its strange intent, fate decided that their annihilation would not come to pass. Just before they reached the point of true exhaustion, a drumming of hooves soothed their ears, and from the forest, two red demons rode, leading a horde of bloodied men.

The reinforcements acted without hesitation, crashing into the mass of men that had surrounded the remnants of the bow ashigaru unit. Within minutes the battle was over, and the men were parted, revealing the bloodied corpse of Miura Tadakata, who at the age of 18, lead a unit, and slew the enemy commander with his own hands, securing victory and peace for the people of his village.

His legend would be remembered for a long, long time.

END

VOLUME 1 COMPLETE

Chapter 53: A Dream

His dreams were violent, and his spasms left his caregivers anxious. He dreamed of this life, and the life past. It grew harder to separate the two. He found himself back at high school, sharing conversation with a girl he had once liked. But the scenery around him was distorted, as though he was looking at everything through the lens of a telescope. Her mouth opened wide, never seeming to close. The room trembled, and all the objects around them started to fly inside her gaping jaw.

The space around them collapsed, and everything went dark.

Quiet. A very long quiet.

And then. A spark.

The tiniest of sparks. But within that dark space it seemed as bright as the sun. He shielded his eyes, trying to resist its sudden rays. The spark began to grow, as though aggravated by his resistance. Soon it had become a shocking sphere of pure white light that scorched his eyes and threatened to confiscate his vision. With it came a heat. A powerful heat. As though he was standing next to the sun.

Instead of becoming charred, his skin boiled, as though a liquid. He watched on in terror as it began to flow off his body, exposing the tender muscle below. That too began to liquefy, abandoning him to the floating pool of skin below him.

Very quickly, his skeleton was revealed. Though his nerves had long since abandoned him, he still felt the deep scolding pain.

The space began to pulsate, as though growing smaller. The ball of light grew unsettled, and started to bounce around. It made contact with his sea of flesh, drawing the liquid into itself.

The liquid transformed around it, refusing to follow its spherical shape. It stretched off to form five thin tendrils. It did not stop there however, as these tendrils thickened, and grew longer, differentiating even further.

The skeletal body that Gengyo now occupied felt a distinctive chill, despite the heat that had once been. For the sphere now assumed the shape of a human body. Naked. It looked very much like his own.

But there was still a thin amount of liquid left, and it drizzled on of the figure's head, coating him in a fleshy juice.

As soon as it touched the skin, it was already assuming a new form. With moments, a kabuto as black as the abyss decorated its head. And the face was soon covered by a men-yoroi of the oddest design. He had never seen one quite like it, and before the jaw was completed, he was unable to identify quite what it was.

With a thick forehead, giant eyes, a wide nose, complete with a jutting jaw of the largest proportions, he was able to place it as a gorilla. It felt wrong to look at. It was a creature that felt unbefitting of a men-yoroi. Yet there it was, sitting upon the face in a shade of black slightly lighter than that of the kabuto.

The liquid ran down on to the shoulders, granting the humanoid figure a pair of shoulder pads, mimicking the colour of the kabuto. It drifted down the chest, forming a splendid dou, and before long the entire figure was dressed in a set of Edo-style samurai armour

The last slither of liquid on the floor ran outwards, turning itself into the smooth steel of a sword blade, and then a finely crafted hilt of a similar shade of black.

Only when the liquid was completely used up did the figure move. It reached down toward the newly created katana, grasping it firmly in its hands.

It then took two steps towards what remained of Gengyo, driving the cold blade through his ribs, aiming at a heart that was no longer there, yet still ending his life.

His eyes flashed open as he let out a cry of fear.

He sat upright, momentarily confused. He was in a small, clean room, his legs covered in a soft blanket. A stabbing pain echoed across his torso, reminding him of his many wounds. He glanced down toward his chest. His kimono was parted slightly, revealing a neat layer of fresh bandages.

A head peeked past the open door.

"Rin…"

He breathed, his throat raw from the lack of hydration.

"Nii-san!"

She shouted, tears running down her pretty face, as she dashed into the room, hugging him tightly.

Her tight embrace made the pain a slight bit worse, but he dared not say anything, and instead patted her head gently, returning the hug. Her shoulders heaved up and down and her tears soaked into his clothes.

"It's alright."

He soothed.

"I'm okay."

She looked up him, taking in his face, forcing herself to believe that it was true. Her dark brown eyes were beautiful, warming his heart. He had not expected to wake up again, but he was glad he had, even if he only got to see Rin one more time before he passed, his battle would have been worth it.

"Nii-san… I was so worried…"

She sobbed, attempting to stem the flow of tears with the back of her clenched hand, but failing miserably.

"The doctors said… they said… it would be a miracle if you made it… they couldn't believe that you were still alive!"

"Hoh… Those are some harsh doctors, writing me off like that. Look at these arms, I'm far stronger than I look!"

Despite the pain, he did a mock pose, tensing his bicep under his sleeve.

A brief giggle offered a temporary reprieve from the tears, but before long they had started again, and she wrapped him in another tight embrace.

"Are you really okay..? You've been asleep for a whole two days… you, mum, and Masaatsu… you were all hurt so bad."

Hearing that Gengyo spoke with urgency, worried for the safety of his family.

"Mum? Masaatsu? How are they now?"

"They're okay – they weren't hurt as bad as you… Masaatsu is walking, but mum is still resting in bed – though she's been awake a few times."

He sighed with relief, relaxing back into the hug, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

"And dad?"

She laughed bitterly when he mentioned father, sparking his curiosity.

"Ha. He was covered in so much blood, but once we got his clothes off, there was barely a scratch! That stinky old man had me worried for so long…"

Gengyo could not help but laugh too at that. It did sound a lot like Morohira.

"That crazy bastard… He almost gets beaten to death when he's out just drinking, and then you put him on a battlefield and he returns unharmed? There's no justice in this world!"

She giggled, thoroughly agreeing.

"Ah, Nii-san, let me go and get them. They've been really worried too."

She wriggled free, bouncing toward the door, sending him a big smile before she exited. He shook his head at her energy, finding himself smiling as well.

'What a wonderful little sister.'

He thought to himself genuinely.

He heard little snippets of conversation as she ran out into the garden area to fetch his father and brother. They arrived hurriedly, struggling to believe what they were hearing.

"My god… You're actually alive!"

Morohira said bluntly upon seeing his youngest son sitting upright in his bed.

"Wow… That's a bit of a poor reaction, dad."

He commented lightly, greatly amused by his father's straight forwardness.

Masaatsu shook his head in disbelief.

"If you had seen the state of your body, you wouldn't be knocking him for that. You're lucky to be alive, little brother."

Their shock did not conceal their happiness. Both their faces had immediately lifted upon seeing him, and they each wore a wide grin, even the normally stoic Masaatsu neglected to assert his calm demeanour.

At the risk of spoiling the mood, Gengyo turned serious.

"I honestly did not expect to be alive today. Tell me brother, what happened?"

He saw Rin tear up slightly upon his statement, but it was something he felt he had to say. With his family, and those that he deemed to be close, he made a point to be as honest as he could.

Masaatsu sighed, nodding in agreement.

"I feel the same. It was madness, brother. After they saw you kill Toda, the men became beasts. I was the same. I've never felt so strong in my life. I don't know how long we fought, but we surrounded your body. And then, out of nowhere, the master came, and saved us. I don't know what happened after that… I blacked out. It was crazy."

His younger brother looked at him with disbelief.

"You… Held off 35 armed men with just the few that we had? I… How many survived?"

Masaatsu shook his head as though exasperated.

"That's the thing brother, all of us survived the battle! It was strange… It was like we weren't allowed to die. None of us were. We just fought, wanting to protect you."

"What!? No one died?!"

Gengyo all but shouted. Such a thing was downright impossible. Well, perhaps if they were the most elite troops, who had spent their lives training… then such a thing might not be considered so surprising.

"Ah… I mean, no one died in battle. There was one man – Suganuma-san – do you remember the middle-aged man, who was one of the first to join your charge? He died this morning. I was by his side. A courageous man, brother. And do you know what his last words were they?"

"Tell me."

Gengyo spoke tentatively, picturing the man's face. He knew exactly who his brother was talking of, and after all he had learned, and all he had done, his loss hurt all the more. Those men who had followed him into battle that day would earn a place eternally within his heart.

'I cannot fathom how such fine people could have gathered in one place, but I will be certain to remember their names for eternity.'

"He asked of you. And when I told him that you were still alive, he closed his eyes and breathed his last. And do you know what? He died with a smile on his face."

Hearing such a thing, even Gengyo – after all his years of experience – could not help the tears that rushed to his eyes. He clenched his fist, shaking his head.

'Who am I to be deserving of such loyalty?'

"I… This man, when will his funeral be held?"

"Tonight, brother, with the rest of them."

"And his family? What of them?"

"A wife and a son, about 10 years old."

"I will be attending this funeral. I need to meet with his family."

He began to struggle to his feet. He did not know what time of day it was, but he knew it was not yet evening by the sunlight that shone through the paper walls. He needed to get ready. This was one event he could not afford to miss.

'And whilst I'm at it… I need to visit the rest of them. I owe them too much.'

Morohira forced him down by the shoulders, much to his protest.

"Kid. Calm down. Your wounds have barely been closed, you need to take things slowly. It's only early morning yet, you do not need to rush. Ideally, you should stay in bed for a few days longer… But I can see that's not happening."

"I agree with father."

Masaatsu seconded.

The youngest son sighed, struggling to calm himself. He reasoned it should not be too much bother to remain sitting a while longer.

"Fine…"

"Good! Nii-san shouldn't be foolish, especially after leaving us worried for so long. You have to be obedient!"

Rin chimed in, approving of his meekness.

She presented him with a plate of food that had been waiting on a tray in the corner of the room.

"For starters, eat this!"

A large plate of rice and fish. At one point it would have been a most delicious meal, but now, staring at it, he could not think of anything he wished to do less.

He looked up, opening his mouth to complain, only to have it quickly closed again when he saw the intense glares the rest of his family were sending him.

--

Hello, and welcome to a new volume of TTG. I won't go into too much detail about what is going to happen, but let's just say that Gengyo won't remain a peasant for very long.

Chapter 54: Meeting with the Master

"Tasty?"

"Mm…"

It had not taken long for his body to realize how hungry it was, and before he knew it he was wolfing down the food.

His family watched on as though he was some exciting zoo exhibit.

"Brother… I should let the master know you've woken up – he was strict about making me promise to do so."

Gengyo nodded without inhibition.

"By all means. I wish to see him too."

Masaatsu nodded his understanding before turning to leave out of the door.

His younger brother heaved a sigh as he stretched back, enjoying the feeling of being full. Aside from the dull aching pain, he felt very much alive, especially after two day's rest.

"Dad, will you help me in to see mother before the master comes?"

Morohiro nodded, slipping an arm under his shoulder and helping him to his feet. A wave of dizziness hit and he almost fell over.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just a bit dizzy."

Rin went ahead and opened the doors, making sure there wouldn't be anything in their way. With each step the skin around his abdomen and chest was forced to stretch, irritating the wounds that lay around there.

With a brief spark of curiosity, he was almost tempted to inspect them, wondering what was just so bad about his injuries that the doctors had rendered him dead. But after recalling the expression his family members had worn when talking of them, he thought he better not.

Fuku lay asleep in a pillowed bed that sat slightly off the floor. She looked comfortable, but her face was a frightening shade of white.

"What happened to her?"

He felt a new kind of stabbing sensation in the pit of his stomach seeing his beautiful mother looking so frail.

"A bastard speared her side."

Morohira informed him, clenching his fist in anger. Seeing him like that Gengyo could appreciate exactly what he was feeling. No doubt if his father had been there, then something like that would definitely not have happened.

"So Toda really did send men to attack the village? That scum. How many did we lose, Rin?"

Rin answered immediately. Each loss was still fresh on her mind, and she regretted them intensely, feeling that if she were to act faster, and more efficiently, then no one should have died at all.

"Five. But a few more are wounded… It's not very good, but Akiko, I mean, Niwa-san, did all she could."

"Not very good? Are you kidding? The whole village would have been slaughtered had you not fought. In comparison, five losses is very little."

She looked up at her older brother, searching for any trace of deceit in his eyes, but she could find none. He meant it exactly as he said it.

"I suppose so… but still…"

He reached out to pat her head.

"I know. It hurts. I feel the same. But it should hurt. The least we can do for the dead is mourn them. I hope we never reach the point where the death of our comrades does not bother us."

"Mmm, I guess you're right…"

Morohira shrugged, chiming in.

"Aye, I agree with the kid, but of course there's always a simpler solution."

Both turned to him expectantly.

"And what might that be?"

"Just don't die."

He said with a straight face as though he truly believed he'd cracked the riddle.

There was silence for a few seconds, before a slapping sound resounded throughout the room, as Gengyo face palmed dramatically.

"Rin… Remind me never to take father seriously."

She nodded firmly.

"Mhm, got it!"

Morohira looked startled, as though he was genuinely confused, looking from one sibling to another, searching for some support, and growing increasingly desperate as they continued to blank him.

"Eh?! What do you mean?!"

They left him to suffer for a while, as Gengyo allowed himself a smile now that he was satisfied his mother was okay. Putting his hands on his lower back, he stretched backwards, enjoying the pleasurable sensation of loosening his muscles.

Perhaps it was because he'd been in bed for two days, but he simply could not get enough of stretching.

He was mid-stretch as Masaatsu walked back in, staring for a couple of seconds wondering why his brother was standing so strangely.

"Stretching."

He informed him pointedly.

"Oh."

Masaatsu nodded a couple of times to himself, clearing up whatever was going on inside his head.

"Ahem. I've spoken to Jikouji-san. He's going to inform the master and they'll be here very soon."

"Alright. Let's head to the dining area so we don't disturb mother's rest."

He wandered out of the room slowly, struggling to keep his balance whilst avoiding the worst of the pain. It made for an unusual looking walk, but it helped to keep the pain to a minimum.

He heaved a sigh as he sat himself down with his legs crossed behind one side of the low table, looking out of the open door at the pleasant sunshine warming the pebbled road outside.

Rin sat herself down beside him, whilst Morohira sat at the narrower end of the table right next to them. Masaatsu preferred to stand.

Gengyo's fingers drummed on the surface of the table, filling the otherwise silent room with a steady tapping noise. The arrival of the master seemed to have sombred the rest of the family's mood.

'Perhaps they're nervous.'

He proposed to himself, as he glanced around wondering why everyone looked so stiff. It was only then that he realized what he was doing with his fingers. He immediately stopped, hoping his body had not done that in an attempt to imitate Nakatane.

A dragonfly flitted its way confidently into the room, buzzing past Gengyo's head. With a quick movement, he caught it from the air, cupping it within his hands, not harming it in the least.

He sat there admiring the creature's beautiful blue body, reaffirming his conviction that he was very happy to be alive.

Nakatane and Jikouji soon arrived, and slipped off their sandals by the door. Gengyo ushered the dragonfly out of his palm, and stood up with the rest of his family as they bowed toward the master. For his part, the master simply waved his hand, dismissing the formalities.

"No need for that."

He sat down at the table opposite Gengyo, who hastened to sit down as well. Jikouji sat by his side. Nakatane spent a good while staring, looking him up and down.

Masaatsu interpreted this silence to have another meaning, and motioned toward his family.

"Come, we should leave Tadakata to talk with the master alone."

They nodded without the slightest hesitation. The atmosphere was far too heavy for them, and they would take any opportunity to escape should it present itself.

Gengyo watched them go with a sigh. If they had known Nakatane better, then he doubted they would feel so uncomfortable around him. Granted, he was in a position far above their own, but his personality made such a social gap easily breachable.

Though it was not his intention to make the rest of the young man's family leave, Nakatane did not stop them, for it would make his conversation easier.

They listened to the footsteps gradually quieten upon the loose stones that lined the path.

"How the hell are you alive?"

Nakatane asked pointedly.

"Pardon, Niwa-san?"

"I saw the state of you. Several of your vitals were pierced. By rights you should have died days ago."

He raised his eyebrow at this new information. The master had no reason to lie.

"Hmm… Perhaps I simply recover fast?"

The master shook his head in exasperation.

"Are you showing off, kid? My wounds were not nearly as bad as yours, and I'm still walking around like someone stuck a pipe up my arse."

Gengyo chuckled lightly at his phraseology, enjoying seeing a more casual side to the master.

"Nakatane, such language is unbefitting of the master of the Niwa household."

Jikouji corrected gently, though he too was smiling.

"Eh, it's fine."

He took in a deep breath, bringing himself back to the conversation that he wanted to have.

"Regardless… I'm glad you're alive."

Jikouji seconded that.

"As am I, young man. It would appear you've taken what I said about the warrior spirit seriously."

"Ah, thank you. I'm rather glad to be alive as well."

Even with the seriousness, it was almost impossible for Gengyo to allow his good mood to spoil, and he could not help but speak lightly.

"Oh, by the way, good job on defeating the mercenaries. That was very well done. I heard it was thanks to you that I'm alive."

Nakatane's smile wavered slightly when he brought up their battle with the mercenaries.

"Aye… But still, we did not manage to do it without Ishiyama's help. Had he not have come… We'd probably all be dead."

"He had me worried when he left, but I'm glad he managed to help you. Where is he now? Normally wouldn't he be with you?"

Jikouji and the master shared a sad glance before turning back to Gengyo, who was trying to decipher just what that glance meant.

"Ishiyama… Ishiyama died bravely slaying a monster, granting us victory in the battle."

The old man spoke solemnly, struggling to keep his voice from choking.

The smile faded from the young man's face as he took in the loss of yet another comrade.

"I'm… Damn it… I didn't know him well, but he was certainly a good man."

"Aye lad, he was one of the best. When we came and found you after you'd killed Toda, we thought history was repeating itself. I'm glad the gods were not so vicious."

Nakatane spoke truthfully. In the face of such comments the young man could no longer joke. The conversation lapsed into silence for a while, before Gengyo voiced a question.

"Has much happened whilst I was out?"

"No… Everyone's just been trying to recover. We have not yet even set foot in Tobishima, so only the god's know what we'll find there."

Nakatane tapped his fingers upon the table, trying to recall anything else of note.

"Ah, tonight, we will gather in the marketplace and hold the funerals. Will you be well enough to attend?"

"Yes. There are a few people I need to pay my respects to."

Jikouji voiced his concerns at that.

"There's no way you can walk the distance into town with the state of your body. Even a horse would be burdensome for you… but still, you cannot ride, can you?"

Gengyo scratched the back of his awkwardly with a shy smile.

"Actually… I learned recently."

The two older gentlemen stared at him, gobsmacked.

"Are you telling me what those men said is true, then? That would mean… You only learned how to ride during the battle?"

Jikouji's voice was filled with disbelief as he voiced the facts.

"Something like that…"

Nakatane opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again with a shake of his head.

"Very well. I will prepare you a horse for travel this evening."

Jikouji spoke, sounding a bit more helpless than before.

'Perhaps I should have kept that a secret?'

Gengyo pondered, seeing how soul crushed the two older men were feeling.

'Is it really that impressive, though?'

Chapter 55: A Funeral Pyre

And so, just before sunset, the villagers were gathered in the market square. It was the first time everyone had gathered together since before the battle, and now their numbers had been thinned quite substantially.

A large pyre had been constructed in the centre of the square as almost 70 bodies were placed individually on burnable beds, with their arms crossed peacefully. It was an impressive architectural feat, as every single body was visible to the mourners, creating a glorious pyramid of twigs and sticks.

"He's over here."

Masaatsu directed Gengyo, leading him toward the body of their comrade.

The body was dressed in a simple black kimono – possibly of higher quality than any he had worn in life, a testament to the respect Nakatane was showing toward the dead – and sat upon a bed of twigs, raising him up to the height of the young man's waist.

Just as his older brother had said, the man had died with a smile. His face looked so peaceful – so relaxed – that it was hard to believe that he was dead at all. If not for the chilling shade of white his face had gone, then it would be easy to mistake it for a man who was enjoying the warm evening sun.

Seeing him like that, Gengyo felt a deep guilt. He had led Suganuma, and in return, the man had died. Had he been a more competent leader, would he still be alive?

It was also true, though, that he had not expected any of them to survive, so that only one man dying should fill him with joy. And it did. Just not enough to overpower the regret he felt at losing this man's life.

"Suganuma-san," he spoke, bowing deeply, "thank you… thank you very much. It was my honour to fight alongside you. Please enjoy the warm land of Takamagahara without any more worries."

He stood still for a while, only moving due to his brother's urgings.

"Come brother. We should leave."

A women marched up behind them, with her son's hand in her own.

"Are you Miura Tadakata?"

She asked aggressively.

Gengyo turned around to address her.

"You bastard you kill-"

Upon seeing the tears that stained the young man's face, her rage dwindled as quickly it had come, and her face softened. A second later she found herself struggling to hold back her own tears, sniffing wildly, and blinking furiously as her eyes started to water.

She could not stop the torrent of emotions that were so fresh in her heart, and the tears came forth quickly.

"Why… Why did he have to die for you?!"

She sobbed, hitting his chest with weakened punches.

He did not avoid a single one as his guilt intensified.

"How are we going to manage without him..? My boy is too young to work! We'll starve! And for what!?"

"Oh! Dear, how cruel you are..! And for you to die with a smile… as though… as though it had all been worth it. But what of us!? What of me, and your sweet son? Were we not deserving of such loyalty?"

Gengyo grasped her shoulders firmly, overcome by passion at hearing her lament her husband's passing.

"Please Suganuma-san! Do not blame your husband. He is the bravest of men. Please feel proud that you were his wife!"

She stiffened at his touch, sending a slap toward his cheek at his words.

"Pride!? You can only say that because you are not us… We won't be able to survive the winter!"

Ignoring the stinging pain that stabbed at his cheek, the young man hastily tried to dispel her worries.

"No! No, that won't happen. The master is an honourable man. You will receive a good amount of coin to reward Suganuma-san for his courage… And… And I'll take care of your finances too… What I have is not much, but I will make sure that Suganuma-san's family do not experience any problems."

She froze in shock hearing the young man's declaration. Even her young boy - who had watched their interacting with a resigned expression – had his eyes widened as he stared up at the man in front of him, wondering whether such words were true.

"Is that… Is that really true? Young man!? Is that true?"

She clawed at his shoulder urgently, physically searching for a trace of hope.

"It is true. I swear upon my honour, that I, Miura Tadakata will take care of your finances for as long as you need me to."

He said solemnly.

She collapsed to her knees in relief, her tears flowing even more violently before as her body convulsed aggressively with each sniff. She prostrated herself at his feet.

"Thank you… Oh thank you so much! Come, son, thank the kind young man!"

She dragged her son down towards her by the hand.

With haste Gengy brought her to her feet, helping her son up as well. It alarmed him to see her go so far in thanking him, when it is he who should be thanking her.

"No, please, Suganuma-san, this is my honour. I owe it to your husband."

He bowed deeply towards them.

"Please accept my thanks. If you ever need anything, call for me, and I will do my best to take of it in Suganuma-san's place."

Masaatsu watched on, relieved. He had worried that his brother might change, even a little, due to the glory he had gained in battle. But it appeared his worries were for nought, as his brother turned out to be an even greater man than he had thought.

Suganuma-san could say nothing in response, as tears choked her voice, so instead Gengyo turned to her son.

"Be strong, lad. Eat as much as you can, so that you can grow into a fine man, just like your father."

The boy, for his part, smiled a determined smile that contained a hint of sadness as he nodded at Gengyo's encouragements.

At that, the young man took his leave, and walked away, struggling to regulate the intense emotions that were raging through him. He felt a deal of relief that he was able to meet with Suganuma-san's wife, and say what he had intended. Granted, he did not manage to do it in the most respectable manner, but he decided not to criticise himself too heavily.

He did not even manage to walk 10 steps before a body jumped out in front of him.

"Miura-san! Sir! I did not expect to see you here, especially up and walking about! I'm glad to see you alive."

The man patted him on the shoulder aggressively whilst laughing deeply, clearly pleased to see him.

Upon seeing Gengyo's baffled expression, he slowed down.

"Could it be… You don't remember me?"

"Uhm… Rokkaku-san..?"

His smile widened upon hearing his name, and he patted his shoulder even more, evidently excited.

"You remember me? Hahaha! That was a glorious battle, sir, you're a crazy one!"

"It was a little difficult to recognise you without the guard's uniform on… But it seems you're all just as crazy as me. Masaatsu told me what happened after I passed out."

He laughed even more.

"Hahaha, maybe… When I think back on it – I can't believe I'm alive. Did you do a deal with the gods perhaps? Hahaha!"

Another man hobbled over on a crutch, his leg raised up.

"My god! It really is you, Miura-san! I thought I heard someone say your name… but to think you're actually here!"

A peasant man hobbled over, exclaiming loudly in surprise when he confirmed that it really was his commander.

Gengyo turned to greet him, looking toward his leg in worry.

"Nishina-san! It's good to see you well… What's wrong with your leg?"

"Ah, 'tis nothing. Just some scumbag jabbed me in the upper thigh, so feels a bit stiff. I'll be ready to fight under you again very soon, commander!"

The young man paused at that, before responding hesitantly.

"Ah… I don't know that I will be leading again in future. It was just because Ishiyama-san had to leave in the middle of battle."

Nishina frowned at that, confused.

"Why wouldn't you? We won the battle because of you! It would be madness on their part if they didn't let you lead again."

Rokkaku seconded that, speaking passionately.

"Yeah! I'll be damned if I fight under anyone but Miura again! I want to feel that feeling again. It was fucking intense!"

Nishina couldn't agree more as he turned to the guard.

"Right!? I haven't been able to drink any saké since then… It just wouldn't be the same. Nothing can compare to it."

Rokkaku slapped his back hard, evidently more than pleased to have found someone who shared his opinion.

"It's the same for me! It's been so boring… I just can't bring myself to touch the stuff. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm fucking excited for the next battle!"

The young man looked at them, a little baffled. He had experienced a feeling of intensity as he rode toward the yari wall – it was as though his blood was boiling from the relentless roaring of a lion. But he did not expect the men under him to feel like that… and especially to such a degree that they would forsake other means of pleasure just so that they would not sully it.

A few more bodies detached themselves from the crowd. Amongst them, Gengyo recognised Niiro and Kitajo.

They reacted with a similar amount of surprise as Rokkaku and Nishina did, but they were more than glad to see each other. Gengyo was especially glad to see that Kitajo was okay. He even felt that the boy appeared to be a degree more confident than he was previously.

'It's probably my imagination though.'

Niiro's tired face seemed to have a new energy about it, and there was certainly a vigour to his speech that had not been present previously.

More and more people came from the crowd, and each of them greeted their commander excitedly, sharing similar sentiments. The young man was surprised to see that some unusual friendships had formed between the members of the group. Rokkaku talked excitedly to a peasant, who, from the snippets of conversation that Gengyo overheard, had fought directly by Rokkaku's side in the battle.

Before long, the entire unit was back together, aside from the recently departed Suganuma. The spirit amongst the group was strong. In the morbid setting of the funerals, their cheerfulness stood out, and their words were heard all over the square.

Even then, Rokkaku appeared to be the loudest, and his words rang loud and clear, heard by every person present.

"Hahaha, I tell you what, after that battle I had the best sex of my life! My wife didn't know what hit her!"

There was a silence as the entire square went quiet – even Gengyo's unit – as they processed just what had been said. Rokkaku's wife - who had heard such a declaration as she was talking to a group of friends – blushed intensely.

The guard stared around wondering what all the fuss was about. The rest of the unit watched him, intrigued by his boldness, before his peasant friend burst out laughing, and soon the rest of the unit followed. Before long the entire market square shared a chuckle at expense of Rokkaku – who for his part merely shrugged, still wearing a wide grin.

Nakatane shook his head, a light smile playing on his lips as he watched the excitement with which the men that Gengyo had led carried themselves. Even Jikouji beside him – though he had been numbed to such things a little with age – had his curiosity captured.

The commander was not separated from their antics in the least. He shared conversation as though he were talking to a group of old friends, as his initial reserved attitude soon faded, and he learned to laugh alongside them. Masaatsu was a degree quieter, but not because he held distaste for their attitudes, simply because he did not know quite how to join in.

That was of no problem though, as young Kitajo felt much the same, and the two soon struck up conversation, and the foundations of an unlikely friendship started to be laid.

Chapter 56: A Morbid Ceremony

"People of Toyone, your attention please."

Nakatane called out. The crowd grew gradually quieter, and he only spoke again once silence reigned.

"We stand here victorious, despite the odds that were stacked against us. But that victory has come at a cost – as we knew it would."

"These," He motioned toward the funeral pyre, "are some of the bravest men and women to have walked this sacred land of the rising sun, and it is our duty to remember their names for eternity."

"Join me in prayer, as I ask the gods to welcome them into Takamagahara."

Jikouji passed him a flaming torch that he carefully received with both hands before he began the ceremonial chants.

"Gods, forgive the sins of us weak mortals as we beseech you to show benevolence toward us lesser beings."

He paused as he waited for the gathered people to repeat back his chant.

"These men and women, though lowly in life, in death they awakened their godly blood, and proved their right to stand in your presence."

"We ask that you grant them safe passage, and that they are able to experience all that they could not on this mortal plane."

With that the chants reached their conclusion, and he pointed the flickering flame toward a nearby bundle of kindling that had been purposely left exposed. It took but a moment for the fire to catch, and it spread very quickly.

With a series of crackling, the entire base was drenched in a flame that climbed up to the top of the pyramid, soaking the corpses in its warmth.

There were very few who did not shed a tear as they watched their friends and family being devoured by the hungry flame. The ash drifted skyward, and they prayed that it was enough for their loved ones to make it to a better place.

Nakatane and Jikouji watched Ishiyama's body disappear into the flames, as their grief rose up even stronger than before. The master clenched his fist, feeling rage at the loss of his head guardsman who had served by his side for many years. He attempted to hide the tears that he shed, but it did not escape the old man who knew him well, for his face was similarly drenched.

The darkness of mortality was lit up by the sacrifices of those that had fallen before them. To mourn was to show respect. But to show grief for too long would be to the great sadness of those we care for, for it renders their sacrifice irrelevant, for you stand even weaker than before.

At least, that was the sentiment they held when they struggled to smile despite the wave of grief that washed over them. For some it was easier than others, but the attempt was still made.

Heaving a deep sigh, Nakatane attempted to set aside his sadness – at least for now – and addressed his people once more.

"I…"

He paused, his voice choking. Jikouji grasped his shoulder firmly, nodding slightly, to show his support.

The master returned the nod, drawing in a deep breath, before beginning again.

"I will move onto a lighter topic now. Rewards! Haha!"

He forced a hearty laugh, despite its difficulty. A few managed to chuckle in return, as ears perked up at the mention of reward.

"All who served – including the women – will receive 10 silver coins for their service. If a member of your family that served has passed away, then that will be 50 silver coins. You may collect it on their behalf."

Whispers passed over the crowd as the people discussed the reward.

"10 silver coins!? That… That's enough to feed us for 10 years! How? How is the master able to afford this?"

The rewards were immense, and Gengyo nodded with approval. He knew that no matter what it took the master would do his best to do right by his people. But he did not know quite the extent the master had gone. His treasury had been entirely cleaned out in order to give this prize to the people.

His family would certainly struggle with coin for a while… But he hoped that they might find something in Toda's residence that would make up for their losses. Of course, he was prepared not to find anything at all as well.

Jikouji handed him a scroll that contained the name's of everyone in the village who had served in battle. It also marked whether such people had died or not. It was a rather morbid thing to read, and as his eyes passed of the name Ishiyama, he felt something tighten.

Clearing his throat he began to read them out.

"Reizei Koresuke… 10 silver coins. Please come forward to collect your reward."

A middle-aged man stepped forward, carrying himself with a bit of a limp. Nakatane plunged his hand into a small chest of coins, and counted out ten before placing them firmly into the man's hands.

"Thank you for your service."

The man bowed gratefully, almost overwhelmed by the amount of money he was holding. He grasped it tightly with both hands, walking through the crowd with them still firmly clasped, making certain that he would not drop a single coin.

When the man had once more returned to the mass that was the crowd, the master continued on with the list, calling the name of a deceased woman. Her 11-year-old daughter came forth on her behalf, encouraged by her father. Nakatane offered her a smile, handing her the coins kindly, and doing his best not to increase her nervousness.

The going was rather slow because the master made sure to give each recipient his full attention, but none grew bored, for the anticipation of such a handsome reward was enough to still any restlessness.

Men from Gengyo's unit were soon called up, much to the encouraging cheers of their comrades, who slapped them on the back as they passed through the crowd. The men marvelled at the amount of coin that they returned with, struggling to believe that it was real.

Morohira's name was called, and he passed through the crowd with confidence. As he neared the front, someone shouted out to him.

"THE BEAST!"

He turned to see the raised fist of Kushizu, who had battled alongside Morohira. The two had a certain respect for each other, especially since that bloody affair. 'The beast' received the praise with a hearty chuckle, as he raised his fist back.

"Aye! I'm the bloody beast!"

His deep shout was almost a roar, and soon other men offered a few shouts, hailing him as the beast. Aritada and Yoritomo joined in. There was not a single man more deserving of such a title. He had fought like a man possessed, inspiring a degree of fear even within his own comrades.

Nakatane watched the exchanges with amusement, handing him the coins.

Morohira glanced down toward his palms, counting the coins just to be sure.

"Hang on, master, you've put 11 here."

"A fitting reward for 'the beast', would you not agree?"

A chuckle spread amongst the crowd, and the two men shared a grin. Grasping the coins in his hand, he nodded toward the master with respect, before turning back to walk toward the crowd.

Rin was next up, encouraged on by Akiko who stood beside her. Other women amongst the crowd wanted to offer her their support as well, though they were a little more reserved than the men, and only deigned it polite to do so silently.

"I heard from my daughter that you fought like a tigress, young Miura-kun."

Nakatane praised as he handed her the reward.

She blushed slightly at the praise from someone of such high standing, but still, she attempted to accept it humbly.

"It was your daughter that fought like a lioness, sir."

She responded tentatively.

He smiled at her response as he watched her go with a certain amount of approval.

And then Masaatsu walked up, his expression firm – though it threatened to break at any moment from the shouts that came from his unit.

"Go on Miura! Get those coins!"

The shouts were so foolish, but it was intentionally so. It had quickly become a game to see if they could make the recipient laugh as he went up to collect his reward.

To his credit, he managed to remain composed, but as soon as he returned back to the men, he quickly broke into a fit of laughter. Gengyo grinned widely, seeing his brother laugh so fiercely.

But that could not distract him from the nervousness that sat upon his chest. It began in his stomach as a series of butterflies that soon flittered up toward his heart. He wondered why he felt nervous about collecting a simple reward in front of this amount of people? He had done so without a hint of emotion in front of crowds hundreds of times this amount.

'Perhaps… Perhaps it's because I care what these people think of me?'

He reasoned.

"Miura Tadakata! Come up and collect your reward."

His name was spoken, and his thoughts immediately narrowed. The nervousness intensified and he felt a rush of adrenaline.

He stepped through the crowd of people that parted upon his walk outwards. They looked towards him, watching him pass. He wondered why the crowd was so silent.

"MIURA!!"

A shout rang out, and he glanced back to see the raised fist of Rokkaku. His normally relaxed face and cheerful smile were gone. His expression had hardened into one of complete seriousness.

"MIURA!!"

A series of other men raised their fists to call his name, his brother and Kitajo amongst them.

"MIURA!!"

And then, the entire unit had their fists raised after calling his name. He stared back at them, his body overcome by a sudden chill. The look in their eyes was fearsome. He could not process the fact that these men, with those expressions, were calling his name.

Time felt slowed as he turned back around, only to hear another barrage of cheers spur him onwards.

"MIURA!!"

He met Nakatane's gaze, and his steps paused. In his eyes he saw reflected the same intensity that had been demonstrated by the men he had led.

It took a great effort to resume his walk forward, and he felt as though it took an eternity.

He arrived next to Nakatane, and stepped up onto the wooden platform, affording him a view of the entire crowd.

The master put his hand on his shoulder, and turned with him to face the crowd.

"Now… Miura here. Hmm… What should we do with him? Will ten silver coins cut it?"

"HELL NO!!"

Rokkaku called out, quickly putting a hand over his mouth, realising that he had spoken out of turn.

"Hahaha. I agree! The boy led only 15 men against Toda's 100. Well… 110. And the little rascal actually won! So, what do we give to the boy that killed Toda with his own hands?"

"90 SILVER!"

A man called out.

"1 GOLD COIN!"

Shouted another.

"A HORSE, BECAUSE HE WENT AND KILLED THE OTHER ONE!"

Rokkaku shouted, much to the amusement of the rest of the crowd.

Nakatane also smiled at that.

"That's good… It is good. But those do not utilise his particular talents… Instead, I'll offer him this: join me, and become the leader of my – not yet formed – special forces unit. I'll give you 3 days to-"

He did not manage to finish his speech, as the youth beside him forecast his eagerness.

"I ACCEPT!"

Gengyo shouted unreservedly, perhaps a little too keen.

"Are you sure? It's a position of great responsibility…"

He nodded seriously, repeating himself.

"I accept."

In battle, he had discovered a side of himself that he did not know existed. Now that the war was over, he had not known what direction to pursue. And then, Nakatane, had offered him – a peasant – the position of a lifetime. A position that would guarantee the safety of his family. And above all, a position that would allow him to fight alongside those brilliant men that he had discovered when times were the toughest.

"MIURA!! MIURA!! MIURA!!"

His men shouted their roaring approval, sharing his sentiment. They could not step back in the realms of men after they had tasted what it meant to be a god.

Chapter 57: A Conversation by the Candlelight

Gengyo heaved a sigh as he removed his sandals by the door. It had been a long evening, and now he found himself utterly exhausted. There were still celebrations going on inside the market square, but he had excused himself and rode home.

In the heat of the moment he had accepted the position of special forces commandant, though he had no idea what it actually entailed. It was not as though he regretted the decision – quite the contrary – but his brain had been itching to think more on it, and his growing tiredness had provided an adequate solution.

He still wore a smile on his from the time he had spent enjoying the company of those who had served in his unit.

'Or perhaps now they will be members of my unit indefinitely?'

There was still something that bothered him though.

'What exactly does 'Special Forces unit' mean?'

He wondered how much Nakatane might expect from him, or whether the duties might even be related to battle at all.

Suddenly, a shadow was cast out in front of him, causing him to tense up and turn with a start.

He immediately relaxed as he saw a familiar figure blocking the light of a flickering torch.

"You came back early as well?"

Nakatane shrugged.

"There did not seem to be much point in staying. May I?"

He motioned toward the entrance of the house.

"But of course."

Gengyo gestured inwards. It was the master's house in the first place, what right did have to refuse him?

The young man went on ahead, fetching a bottle and two glasses, before sitting down at one end of the table with a relieved sigh. He was joined a moment later.

"I had been wanting to talk to you, Niwa-san."

Nakatane reached forward, pulling the cork from the bottle, and giving it a brief sniff before nodding with approval. He quickly poured himself half a glass, closing his eyes pleasurably as he enjoyed the bitter flavour of the sake.

"That much was obvious, hence why I'm here."

He drained the glass before pouring himself another.

"Really though lad, you should spend some time thinking before accepting positions like that… Had I been Toda you would have been signing your life away."

"But you are not Toda."

Gengyo rebuked pointedly.

The master held his gaze for a few moments before chuckling.

"No… At least I am not Toda."

He cleared his throat, cradling his glass with the fingers of one hand, whilst he toyed with the bottle in the other.

"I'll level with you boy, you have a talent. One that is rarely seen."

He took another sip from his glass.

"You have more than proved your worth… and for me to ignore you would be a great foolishness on my part."

"Ha… A great foolishness. Well, that certainly would not be the first time."

He lamented to himself.

The young man was getting the sense that Nakatane had more going on in his mind than just the contract. No doubt it was about Ishiyama, or perhaps even about the deaths of the other villagers.

"Anyway, this village owes you a debt. It would be wiped out had your unit not achieved what it did. Thus my reasoning. I offered you something that was mutually beneficial: you offer me your services, and I help you in cultivating your talent."

Gengyo nodded his ascent.

"It is more than satisfactory for me, Niwa-san. You forget that I am merely a peasant. Whatever you were to offer me, I would gratefully accept, even if you did not explain your reasoning."

"Ha! Those who only look at birth are fools. It does not determine talent."

He brought the cup up to his lips before pausing with a frown.

"Well… Clearly. That did not even need to be said."

He took a sip, that look of distaste remaining.

"Anyway… The terms. That's the reason I came here… Mmm let's see…"

He looked toward the ceiling as his fingers unfurled from around the bottle and he spent a few moments contemplating.

Gengyo waited patiently, not showing any signs of urgency, his attention remained unwavering.

"Firstly, you'll have to move house."

The master announced raising a finger as he nodded to himself. His behaviour was a little more erratic than normal – the alcohol was clearing having an effect.

"Pardon, Niwa-san?"

"What I said. You need to move house. If you're going to be leading men, then you'll have to have your door open to visitors at all times. It would be easier to do that by moving you away from your family."

"Hoh… I see…"

Picking up on that reaction, Nakatane teased him lightly.

"What, you going to miss your family? Haha, you'll be 5 minutes away. Ishiyama-"

His smile faded as he mentioned his departed retainer's name, and he had to make a visible effort to stop himself from choking up.

"Ishiyama's house… It will be cleaned, and then it will become yours. But I warn you, do not do anything within those walls that will sully his memory, or you'll have me to answer to."

The young man could tell that he was dead serious, and he nodded firmly in reply.

"Good… Good. That house will also symbolise your status. It of a similar build to Jikouji's, with two stories rather than one. It is perhaps more space than you might need… but I'm sure you will find some use."

"Forgive me for interrupting, but did Ishiyama not have any family? Would they not be residing in his house currently?"

His finger tapping grew a deal slower, and his eyes distant. It appeared the young man's words had sparked a memory.

"No… He had a wife when he was a young man, but she died, and he never remarried… no children."

"Anyway. That's not what I wanted to be saying. That house is now yours, do what you wish with it. Meals will be brought to your room at set times – Jikouji will handle that. You will no longer have to work in the fields. You will receive a payment of 1 silver coin each week."

He listed off each thing utilising his fingers, before waggling the few that were left, wondering if he had forgotten something.

"And what will my duties be, so that I can enjoy such favourable conditions?"

Nakatane grinned, carefully placing his glass back on the table.

"Now that's the exciting part, is it not? Let's see… Let's see…"

"Ah, yes. You'll be recruiting men for your unit… About 50 I suppose... Imagawa will come knocking sometime soon expecting men to be sent to fight on my behalf, so you had best train them quickly. I'll leave everything regarding that unit to your discretion. Don't let me down."

Gengyo's fingers made their way to his chin as he already began to plan his next steps, and he almost forgot to reply.

"Ah, of course Niwa-san."

"Good. That won't be all though – such conditions are too favourable. Your talent needs cultivating. Continue working on your swordsmanship as Jikouji told you, and begin to practice with the spear. There are numerous manuals on strategy lying around – you'll be expected to read those. No one has time to teach you, so I hope you will do well by yourself. Ah, but an odd question here and there can't possibly pose too much harm."

The young man barely listened to the second half. Those later terms were easily accomplished. His mind was entirely preoccupied with the possibilities that lay open to him in regards to choosing a unit.

"Young man? Are you listening?"

"Hm? Yes, those are fine too, Niwa-san. I'll make sure not to let you down. Thank you."

"Eh? Alright I suppose…"

A little underwhelmed by Gengyo's easy acceptance of the conditions, Nakatane flow was temporarily broken, and he instead filled the silence with a sip of sake as he watched the young man sit in thought.

'I wonder what he's thinking?'

He pondered briefly, before shaking his head, realizing that was a futile question.

He eyed his empty glass before doing a brief shake of the bottle, realizing that there was but a slither of liquid remaining. He tutted lightly, before pouring it out.

With a swift motion, the glass was empty, and after a slight stretch the master struggled to his feet.

Awakened by the movement, Gengyo returned from his thoughts.

"Ah, are you leaving?"

"Aye. That's all I needed to say. The night is still young, but you should get some rest. You'll assume your post first thing tomorrow – so enjoy your last night as a simple working man."

The young man stood up alongside him, seeing him out.

"I will, thank you. You should get some rest too, Niwa-san. I imagine these past few days have been rather busy."

The master slipped into his shoes with practised movements before waving away Gengyo's concerns with a limp hand, stepping off the porch.

"Don't worry about it. I'll take more than sleep to ruin this old body of mine!"

He shook his head lightly in response to the older man's jokes, a slight smile on his lips. They both knew why it was that he could not sleep. But in time, he hoped, the grief would begin to abate for him. It was not pleasant to see such a decent person suffer.

Just before Gengyo turned to go back inside, Nakatane stopped him.

"Ah! I almost forgot. Be ready early tomorrow morning. We're heading to Tobishima to set things in order. And of course, I'll need my new retainer with me, haha!"

"Got it. I'll be up early."

"Good lad. Goodnight then!"

He said with a wave of his hand, as he stumbled half-drunk back toward his mansion. Gengyo watched him go, almost expecting him to fall. When he disappeared from sight, he turned back inside, and hovered briefly by the door of his room, wondering what to do. It only took a moment for him to make his mind up, and he quickly prepared himself to slip into bed.

What he had hoped would be a good night's sleep was ruined by his racing thoughts that endlessly rushed about, each holding a different piece of a grand puzzle. But such was the curse of the strategical mind.

Chapter 58: Into Tobishima

By early morning, the master and his two retainers were mounted, travelling toward Tobishima. They were not kitted out in full armour, but it was not as though they were completely defenceless either. Each of them had a sword at his hip, and with them they had brought the men who would form the foundation of Gengyo's Special Forces unit.

Aside from the men who had fought with him in battle, there were three extra men in the unit. Morohira was one. As soon as he had heard of the formation of the Special Forces unit, he wanted to be a part of it. The man loved to fight – and who would not want to fight alongside their own family? He figured that since his son was in charge, he would be able to do pretty much as he pleased.

But that had proved not to be the case, and now he walked alongside Masaatsu, grumbling as he carried a spade and yari just like the rest of them.

The other two recruits were Yoritomo and Aritada who Gengyo invited on a whim, and was as yet still unsure how they would perform.

The stallion the young man sat mounted on was a pure black, almost identical to Ishiyama's. The similarity was so striking, that the boy could not help but hold suspicions that such an arrangement had been done purposefully.

A flock of crows took flight as they neared, abandoning the corpses on which they were feasting.

Jikouji wrinkled his nose.

"The stench is quite… something."

"Yes, it's a smell that I hope I don't become too familiar with."

Nakatane agreed.

After the battle, only the bodies of their comrades had been taken. They were far too exhausted to care about the rest. But it was not as though they could simply leave them in the middle of the field forever. Afterall, this was now their land, and it was the main route into Tobishima. It would be most unwise to leave it to sully.

"Tell your men to leave their tools here. We will deal with the bodies on the way back."

Gengyo nodded, before repeating the order to his unit.

"You fellas will be glad to hear that we can leave the spades here. We can enjoy the hard work on the way back, but for now, let's see what Toda's been hiding, eh?"

Sighs of relief sounded out as the heavy spades slipped from their hands to the floor. It was a laborious task carrying both that and the yari. But their exhaustion did not stop their excitement. Toda was a man of immense wealth, and their imaginations ran wild in anticipation of what they might find.

"Let's go then, Commander Miura Sir!"

Morohira called out, much to Gengyo's annoyance. His father could be rather childish at times, and ever since he had heard Rokkaku utter that series of titles jokingly, he had not stopped saying it.

The rest of the unit laughed, but the young man let them have their fun. Perhaps it was an inappropriate way of behaving toward your commanding officer, but he did not care for that kind of formality. The way he saw it, the more freely his men were able to act around him, the better they would perform as a unit because there would never be any fear of approaching him.

It was not like Gengyo could spot everything, and so in his men, he placed a trust that they would become an extension of his eyes and ears.

Nakatane and Jikouji were observing the young man rather intensely, though they attempted to do it without his notice. It was always a worry that a position of power might change one for the worse, but so far – much to their relief – they did not notice anything untoward about his behaviour, though they disapproved slightly of his casual relationship with his men.

Before long, they arrived at the village. The first thing they saw were the rice fields which were rather different to their own. They had not had the time to properly flood the fields, so the crops were not growing optimally. Yet the villagers of Tobishima had seemingly completed their flooding a long time ago, and the rice looked well on its way to maturity.

The three mounted men took note of this, though each for different reasons.

They steered their horses toward a cobblestone path that lead to the heart of the village, with a few houses scattered en route.

They walked at a slow cautious pace in silence. The only sound was that of the clopping horse's hooves, and the heavy footsteps of the men that followed behind. Though nothing had been said, each of them held a degree of nervousness, for they did not know what lay ahead. It was quite possible that Toda left some men behind at his village, having underestimated their resistance.

Their pace slowed further as they reached the end of the first house, fully expecting something to jump out. The group paused, and with a nod toward Nakatane, Jikouji drew his sword, and slowly trotted forwards first.

He neared the edge of the corner, straining his neck to try and peek around, his sword raised, ready.

"AH-"

A short scream that was quickly cut short as Jikouji's blade flashed through the air and travelled toward the soft flesh of a young neck.

The blade had stopped a millimetre away from flesh, and a terribly skinny boy stood shivering in his rags as he collapsed to the floor in a pool of his own urine, prostrating himself toward Jikouji.

"Please… mister… I didn't mean to hide… please mister Toda… I didn't mean any harm."

He whimpered, not daring to look up.

The fearsome look that had decorated Jikouji's face soon faded as he looked toward Nakatane and Gengyo completely baffled.

'It seems the boy thought we were part of Toda's entourage…'

The young man dismounted from his horse, and with a quick movement, he pulled the young boy to his feet – he was all but 9 – and forced the lad to look him in the eyes.

"It's alright boy. No one is going to hurt you here. Sorry for scaring you. We'll all be fine."

He almost had to support the boy's entire body weight himself, as the lad was so afraid his legs would not hold him steady.

"Is that your house?"

Gengyo motioned toward the building behind them.

The boy nodded, shaking with fear.

"How about you go inside, eh? We'll handle things from here."

The boy looked back toward him, uncertain.

"Go on."

He encouraged.

The boy took a step away before looking back to see if he was being pursued. When he saw that Gengyo had not moved an inch, he bolted, heading straight toward the door of his house. He pulled it open with a firm movement and dashed inside. The sound of bolts being drawn and shutters being locked let them know that he was still very much uncertain.

The young man looked toward the door for a few more seconds before shrugging. It would have been nice to get some information out of him, but the little boy was far too afraid for something like that.

He glanced toward Nakatane and Jikouji. Neither of them voiced their disapproval, so he remounted, and they rode further along the road.

A skinny old couple quickly shuffled inside as they saw them coming. Similar to the young boy, the doors and windows were tightly locked.

The townspeople were unusually timid. Even if they had caught wind of the results of the battle, and had learned that their master had fallen, there was still no need for such caution. Nakatane's reputation was well known, and any sensible man would not treat the peasant folk too cruelly, else there would be no one left to farm the land.

This odd behaviour caused Gengyo's frown to deepen as such displays continued all the way up to Toda's mansion. One thing that was relatively easy to deduce was that they did not receive enough food. Each and every person they saw looked frail, and their bones were very visible.

'Could it be that…'

His thoughts were cut off as he finally took notice of the imposing structure before him.

"My god…"

He breathed, awed.

"Aye lad. That was my reaction as well when I first saw it."

It was less a mansion and more a castle. A grand four-storied building of such magnitude and style that even the Daiymo could not frown if he ever had to stay it in. It's architecture perfectly captured the height of Japanese fashion at that time. With high stone walls and beautifully curved tile rooves, it was a sight to behold.

It looked almost brand new. Evidently, a lot of time was put into its upkeep. Its size would prove almost fatal to any team tasked with cleaning it. Gengyo did not envy those who held that job one bit.

For some reason, they had all instinctively paused before opening the two grand wooden doors. They were varnished a dark brown and curved inwards toward the top.

The young man glanced around, and noticed an apprehensiveness about his comrades. It was not something he himself could feel, so he did not quite understand it. With a shrug to himself, he dismounted his horse and walked toward the two doors.

He placed a palm against the wood and pushed, almost falling over. Due to their size he had exerted a considerable force in order to get them to move, but the doors themselves had provided little to no resistance.

They swung open, revealing the interior. Evidently, whoever was dwelling inside at the moment did not deem it fit to lock the door. However, they had already planned ahead for the instance where they were met with a locked door, so there was no keeping them out either way.

A vast hall was revealed. A red carpet ran down the stone floor from the doors, bordered by a series of pillars. It continued onwards towards a set of steps. Atop these steps there sat a rather well-cushioned throne. It alone - with its wood and plump stuffing - stood out. Everything else was immaculate. Not a single spot of dust could be found.

He stepped inside, his footsteps echoing off the stone floor, resounding throughout the room.

"What a vain fucking bastard."

Nakatane said with distaste, looking at what could only be described as a throne room. It was a mighty waste of money simply to exert a little bit of prestige.

"Indeed."

Jikouji emerged from beside him, and continued walking further into the room. He inspected various points, looking for decorative effects that might be of some value.

"These pillars are pure marble… that cost of such a thing is hard to imagine."

"I agree. The value of the material itself isn't that significant, but to have it transported here and sculpted must have cost a pretty penny."

Genyo agreed, shaking his head lightly at such frivolity.

"Oi! This looks expensive!"

Rokkaku called from over by the throne chair. All eyes in the room turned to him as he pinched his fingers together and attempted to claw something out from the centremost part of the chair's arm.

He held it up a blood-red crystal, squinting as it glittered in the sun.

"Gods… Is that a ruby?!"

Jikouji exclaimed, his eyes wide.

Chapter 59: A Sealed Room

Jikouji exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"A ruby eh? There will likely be one in the other arm."

Gengyo commented, not quite as excited as the rest of them. He had never cared much for jewellery and the like. To him, this was simply a rock – albeit a rock that would sell for a pretty price.

Rokkaku nodded. He could already see the other glistening red gem, and he moved to pry it free with the point of his dagger, though when he handed the gems over to Nakatane he did so reluctantly.

"Don't look so disappointed. I'll give you each a cut of the coin we sell this for. The more we find, the bigger your rewards."

That brightened his spirit, and he renewed his search with a glint in his eye, keen to find more goods. The rest of the men overheard and moved to do the same.

"I think we've found everything this room has to offer. Let's move on."

Gengyo suggested, motioning toward the two stone archways that sat either side of the throne.

Nakatane nodded in agreement.

"Alright, let's get going then."

They headed through the archway on the left, choosing it at random. They reasoned they could explore the other one later. But as it turns out the two gateways lead to exactly the same place. It was a small area with a high roof. There was nothing of note apart from a spiral staircase that sat in the middle of a stone wall.

There were two choices, up or down. There was no spoken discussion on which they should choose first, as they simply followed the master that headed upwards.

The wooden planks of the stairs creaked under the weight of their bodies, but it held out and allowed them to reach the second floor.

This floor was more like that of a normal house, as long as you ignored the balcony view that it afforded of the throne room. The ceiling stretched out high above it, continuing on until it met a series of beams, and a view of the underside of the roof's tiles.

Given the roof above them, it seemed this was the highest floor. It was home to a great many rooms, as one looked around there were around 16 doors scattered, each with a good distance in between so the rooms would be sizeable.

These doors were of a western hinged style, and the majority hung open at least a fraction. The wooden floor was partially carpeted in red, and there did not seem to be any tatami insight. Whilst not very Japanese, it was undoubtedly stylish, and with the numerous potted plants placed here and Gengyo found it was very much like a hotel.

Not giving voice to such a thought, he instead spoke to his men.

"Search each room as you please. Of course, look for valuables, but if you encounter a person, detain them and shout. If you are unable to detain them without putting yourself at risk, then it is fine to draw blood."

"Yes, sir!"

With a few replies confirming that they had received the instruction, the men started to split up and search the rooms. Some went individually, some went together.

"Are you not going to join them?"

Nakatane asked, as Gengyo remained behind with him and Jikouji.

"No, something has caught my eye."

He spoke, moving forward as he did so. His movements conveyed a purpose, as though he knew exactly where he was going, prompting a second question.

"What has?"

"Every door on this floor is open, except for one."

He pointed to a door that sat directly opposite the staircase. Whilst the other doors were a dark brown varnished wood, this one was almost black, and was studded with metal in places. It's position and it's appearance were more than enough to arouse suspicion.

They arrived by the door, and Gengyo pushed out with a palm to test it. The thing did not budge in the least, confirming that as well as being shut, it was also locked. Judging by the large keyhole that sat in the very centre of the door, they would not be able to open it without a key.

"Rokkaku!"

The young man called out.

A head stuck out from the door of one of the rooms.

"Yes, Miura-san?"

"Do you still have your axe with you? There's something that needs breaking."

"Oh, if it's something breaking you need, then I'm more than glad to help!"

He moved toward them enthusiastically, drawing the woodcutters axe that hung at his waist, and leaning his polearm against the wall. They had been prepared to cut through the thick doors that made up the gate of the house – this door was measly in comparison, and the resistance it offered would certainly not be enough.

"This door here. Thanks for the help, Rokkaku-san."

"My pleasure!"

He heaved his axe upwards, before striking toward the door with his entire weight behind it. The blade was met with a satisfying crunch as chunks of wood splintered everywhere.

With the second swing a solid crack had formed in the door, and after a strong kick, it burst open, revealing the interior.

The men stood stunned for a moment at the unexpected sight.

"Am I… in heaven?"

Rokkaku wondered aloud as he stared forwards, taking in everything.

The room stank of a strong perfume that clung to their throat causing them to gag. It was bad enough that it warranted a hand over the mouth to act as a makeshift gas mask.

The room was dominated by a large four-poster bed. It was almost double the size of a normal king-sized bed, and could likely easily fit around 8 people. It looked mightily comfortable as cushions were strewn about everywhere, of varying colours. The wooden floor was covered by a thick fur rug that undoubtedly was extremely pleasant to walk on barefoot.

There were no windows in the room however, and it was lit entirely by candlelight. A fire dwindled miserably in the hearth, seemingly having run out of wood. But it was not as though the room was cold. In fact, it was pleasantly warm, which did make sense since the door had been closed so firmly.

It was without a doubt Toda's bedroom. No other room would warrant locking. That meant that it had been closed for a good couple of days.

But none of those things drew their attention. Not even the bedside cabinet - that was sure to contain some goodies - could tear their eyes away from the sight that they held before them.

Like a family of cats, the most beautiful women one could ever hope to see lay about. Their seating arrangements were not limited to the bed, nor was it limited to sitting at all. Most lay on their backs as though they had experienced the most pleasurable thing in the world, each looking entirely relaxed.

As they charged in, the she-cats merely regarded them with big round eyes, and a few blinks, before sighing in pleasure and resuming their relaxing.

That alone would be seductive enough in itself, but coupled with their attire – which was so scant, that they may as well have worn nothing at all – it was a killer combination. They wore thin silks that were all but transparent, each with a different colour. A green, a red, a yellow… almost as if that colour was all there was to their identity.

The women were young, for a certainty, but not so young as to be prepubescent, evident by the full pair of breasts each of them sported.

Their jaws were all but on the floor, but as soon as they had time to process exactly what they were seeing, both Nakatane and Jikouji lowered their gazes. Rokkaku did not even pretend to show any discretion and merely kept staring as though he was trying to record every detail.

Gengyo glanced around the room, his expression neutral, and his eyes cold. With their initial attention captured by the perfect figures before them, not a single one of them noticed the sixth woman that hid behind the remnants of the broken door, a fire poker raised.

Her and Gengyo locked gazes. Even when compared the angelic she-cats that lay in the rest of the room, she was a good deal more beautiful. She hair of the deepest black, large round eyes, high cheekbones, and big full lips. As though that were not enough, she had the most ravishing curves that any man could wish to lay eyes on, with large firm breasts, and a plump bottom.

But contrary to the heat that such a women would insight in most men, she was met by Gengyo's overwhelming coldness.

"I do not recommend doing that, young lady."

His voice was calm, and lacked any trace of fear. She glanced toward the fire poker in her hand. Suddenly it seemed to grow a good deal smaller, and she lowered her arm slowly, letting it slide from her grip.

"Who… are you?"

She asked meekly, her voice trembling.

"Not Toda. And you?"

"…Ishiabera."

'Is she trying to say Isabella?'

"A western name? Fine. What's wrong with these women?"

"They're… fine. Just dim-witted. Toda-sama was kind enough to take them in."

He tutted lightly, stepping past one of the women that was splayed out on the floor, regarding him sleepily. He approached a draping red cloth, and cut it free from the bedpost.

"Wear this. Cover yourself up."

He threw it towards the woman who had introduced herself as Isabella. It was only then that she looked down on herself, and offered a slight blush. It seemed that she was so used to dressing so lightly that she had forgotten it was abnormal.

He proceeded to do the same for each of the she-cats, though some threatened to roll out of it, but it only took a stern glare to render them obedient.

The other three men struggled to calm down after the bodies were covered up, but it had felt a little inhumane to cover their faces as well, and each of them was a heart-breaking beauty, so it could not be helped that their hearts still raced. Rokkaku looked disappointed and had even opened his mouth to protest, only closing it once he realized just what he was about to say.

"Now that we can look where we wish to freely, let's try and piece this together, shall we?"

He said that in an attempt to hurry Nakatane and Jikouji into collecting themselves. They both hesitated a moment, before nodding vigorously, eager to cover up their uncertainty.

"Very well. Are we you slaves, Isabella?"

His perfect pronunciation of the name that she had attempted to deliver caught her off guard slightly, but she still managed a slippery response.

"No… we're well taken care of."

"Isabella, these women are on drugs. I do not think they have much choice in the matter."

She physically took a step back as he hit the nail on the head, quivering slightly.

"No! Not drugs. Toda-sama would never – they're just slow in the head."

Gengyo tutted once more, turning to Jikouji.

"You once told me that Toda was involved in all manner of nefarious dealings. Do you know anything about any drug-related activities?"

"No, he kept his illicit activities very well under wraps"

"I thought as much…"

The young man glanced around the room. He reasoned that the substance would be fairly obviously placed, as these stupefied women were able to find it. Or perhaps it was administered by Isabella. Either way, it would be present in the room as the door had been locked the a good few days.

He noticed one of the women toying with a large jar, as though it were the most precious thing in the world. Following his gaze, Isabella grew a good deal more anxious.

'So this is it, eh?'

He picked up the bronze pot, and removed the lid swiftly, revealing a strong-smelling, fine brown powder.

"Opium."

He stated matter-of-factly.

Chapter 60: A Sealed Room (2)

"Opium?"

Jikouji repeated in disbelief.

"Exactly. These women are currently under the influence of this little brown powder. Now… Isabella, I can assume from how you've been responding to my questions that you will not be cooperating? That's fine. But your master Toda is dead. It's foolish to keep up this pretence."

Her eyes widened at the mention of Toda's death.

"Dead..? But how..? He-"

She looked back from Gengyo, and then toward Nakatane.

"It can't be…"

She whispered.

"Your thoughts are correct. That man is the honourable Niwa Nakatane. He delivered Toda a crushing defeat, and ended his life."

He toyed with the jar, replacing its lid and holding it loosely. He could see traces of anxiety present on Isabella's face as he treated it so casually, threatening to drop it at times.

"Do you not feel relief? You're quite clearly a slave. Toda is dead – you have the opportunity to regain your freedom. As do the rest of these women."

Her soft and innocent expression - that had looked so fearful before - started to fade. The mask had been removed, and anger replaced it as her lips curled up in a vicious smile.

"What? Do you think you're heroes? That you can just charge in here and save us? You're delusional. You've only made our lives worse. Perhaps being a slave is not the best life, but at least we were fed. At least we were warm."

Gengyo shrugged.

"That's up to you. We are simply here to reclaim a little bit of what Toda has taken. We're more robbers than heroes. Though, I do think if you'd been discovered by true bandits, this conversation would not be had. You would be raped, or killed. Perhaps both."

He wandered over to the bedside cabinet, allowing her to ponder on what he had said. Judging by the expression she wore, it was not something she was particularly fond of hearing, but it was certainly the truth.

Nakatane and Jikouji were surprised by his coldness toward the woman. They had watched him treat the villagers they encountered with warmth, and patience, and they could not help but wonder what about this woman was so different. If anything, should he not be treating her even more gently – after all, she was so beautiful.

A few trinkets were to be found in the drawers. A golden hand mirror, some jewel-encrusted rings, a few necklaces, and other things of that sort. The majority were pieces of female jewellery. It seemed the man had enjoyed dressing these docile she-cats with his wealth.

He pushed all the items that held any amount of value into a small wooden jewellery chest, and as he passed them, he gently removed the pieces that the women were wearing. They regarded him lazily, caring more about the jar of opium he'd left on the cabinet than what he was doing.

He handed his haul to Nakatane, waking the older man up from his thoughts. The three of them had been left completely dazed. This perfumed space was like a thick oil lake, and only Gengyo could traverse it freely. What they had seen and been awed by, he had looked upon with distaste.

He was a man that did not hold a single degree of sympathy for the ugly monster that was other people's sexual fantasies. When he looked toward the women, he could not see their beauty, instead, he saw on their skin the thick ugly slime that Toda secreted with his twisted touch.

A degree sympathy had been willing to show itself, for this was not a situation of their choosing. But toward Isabella, he was unable.

"We're done here. Shall we go and check the lower floor? I would ask our friend Isabella, but sometimes not knowing is better than misinformation."

"Ah, yes…"

Nakatane nodded slightly, and moved back out the door, towards cleaner air. Rokkaku needed a little more persuading, but he made his way out as well.

The rest of the men were emerging from their rooms too, showing off the pieces that they had found. Golden candle holders, a few jewelled quills, and other more mundane items.

They smelt the scent of perfume drifting from behind Gengyo and his group, and they each held a degree of curiosity, but none could see past them.

"Good work everyone. We've collected a few pieces of jewellery too. Let's head downstairs and see what else our buddy Toda has got stashed away from us, eh?"

There were enthusiastic nods, and with a gesture, Gengyo motioned for Morohira to lead the way. Enjoying that responsibility possible more than he should, his father strode to the front with a swagger, and trotted downstairs as though he were a king showing guests around his grand castle.

The men passed on ahead – Rokkaku included – and the young man spoke to the two older men who were left behind.

"We can deal with the women in there later, but it should be done delicately, as that's an extremely large quantity of opium, and if you ingest even the smallest amount, you're going to be out of it for a while."

"I see. So that was opium, eh? I think I'll leave the handling of this to you. That room made me rather light-headed."

Nakatane responded, back to his old self.

"Opium of all things though. Imagawa-sama placed a strict ban on its import… To think Toda was insane enough to deal in it. That is more than enough to explain his wealth."

Jikouji commented, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I have a feeling it's not only that, though. There was a merchant who joined him mid-battle. I've been curious as to who he was for a time… but now, after seeing those women, I'm thinking that he was a slaver."

"A slaver?! You mean to say that he was going to sell off my people? That scumbag!"

The master clenched his fist, and a glower of rage crossed his face.

"That's what I'm thinking. He has no qualms about keeping drugged women as slaves, so morality is certainly not an issue. Regardless... We should get moving. The sooner we clean this up the better."

"Aye. I will be glad to leave this place."

Nakatane began down the stairs, and they followed.

"Ah! Give me a moment. I left the jar of opium with those women. Go ahead without me, I'll be down in a second."

They nodded, and continued downwards, as he dashed back toward the room.

With slow movements he removed the jar from its resting place, giving a cold glance toward Isabella as he passed.

She regarded him disinterestedly, as though she held not a single care what he thought of her. The red cloth that had been draped around her was also discarded in the corner, as she now sat on the bed.

"What is it you fear, Isabella? Working in the fields? Going hungry? Or will you simply miss being able to wear such expensive trinkets? You're the only one who is not out of their mind on drugs. Were you his favourite, then? Did he treat you well?"

He studied her face intently, taking in the slightest twitches of muscles, keen to get under her mask.

"Yes, he treated me very well. And now we will all go hungry, because of you."

She spat out with venom.

He showed not the slightest trace of emotion at her words, and instead raised his hand high.

Instinctively, she flinched, and turned away, expecting to be hit.

"A lie. He beat you, just as he beat them. There is no way someone with Toda's appetites would engage in a loving sexual relationship. You can smell it as soon as you walk in - though you try to hide it with your perfumes. Each of you stink of it – but you most strongly. You carry the stench of… humiliation."

He paused for a second, as he observed her expression.

"A person like you would not last as a farmer. Your hands are too soft. Perhaps you can go into prostitution – there would be many places that are willing to have you. But who's to say that you will be treated fairly? You will likely end up a slave again. Perhaps to an even worse man. A grim prospect, would you not agree?"

She frowned bitterly. It was everything that she already knew.

"Yet, there is still another option. There is a job that even you can succeed at. A job where you won't have to be a slave. You won't have to sell your body. You won't have to be beat. I'm sure you know what I mean, don't you?"

Her bitterness disappeared as confusion took over. Her thoughts raced, assembling all the pieces of the recent conversation, and attempting to put them together. But none of it made sense. No such grand job could be found.

But even though her heart told her that this man was simply toying with her, she still spoke out. What did she care if she suffered one more humiliation?

"…What job is that?"

He offered her a small smile as he folded his arms and spoke slowly and clearly.

"Work for me. You have a particular set of talents - ones that I can put to use."

She reeled back in surprise, her eyes firmly locked with his.

And then, she began to laugh. He'd played her well. She had to give it to him – that was one grand punchline.

"Ahaha, you're a cruel man!"

But he did not join in her laughter. Quite the contrary- his smile faded, and he allowed a deathly chill to enter his voice.

"I am not joking."

Her laughter soon faded too, as she felt the room become a degree colder.

"You go too far… From the very start you looked at me with disgust, as though I were some flee ridden dog. You care not for my body in the least… you see me for what I truly am."

"I do. But though you smell fouly, you have a frightening deal of potential. I say it again: I have a use for you."

She lapsed into silence, her forehead wrinkling in concentration.

He patted the metal of the opium jar with his fingers, before leaning in close and whispering toward her ear. She froze as he came closer, her hairs sticking up.

But as he finished what he had to say, they had completely relaxed. He moved away from her, and she looked at him with disbelief.

"That is how you will find me, should you decide favourably."

"But is that not a bit much…"

"No. It is just enough."

He waved his hand as though to shoo away any of her doubts, and turned on his heel – jar in hand – and moved toward the door.

"It's a good opportunity, Isabella. You might even get the chance to save those little lambs behind you."

She glanced toward a girl, dressed in green silk, who was rolling on her back and gargling happily, like a child. Guilt filled her heart, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gengyo leave, and that guilt was soon replaced by urgency.

She reached under the bed, grabbing what she knew to be Toda's kimono. She threw it on. It was rather loose, but it would serve its purpose.

She dashed hurriedly around, cursing Gengyo under her breath.

'Why did that damnable man make it so difficult?'

Chapter 61: The Lower Floor

Gengyo caught back up with the group easily enough. As he progressed further underground via the wooden steps, they began to be replaced by stone. The air grew a good deal mustier, and he was overwhelmed by the humidity and dampness.

They had stopped before a barred iron gate, and were discussing what to do next. The iron poles gave a good indication of just how damp the area was, as they were covered in rust. It appeared – judging from the keyhole – that they would need a key if they wished to pass.

The corridor they had gathered in at the bottom of the stairs was entirely made out of stone. Had it been wood, or something similar, it would have rotted long ago from the damp. It was dimly lit by a series of torches, and they could see hinged steel doors hiding inside the walls. They could tell it was steel, because it was a degree less rusty than the iron gate they stood before.

"Miura-kun, you've caught up. We were just discussing how to proceed."

Jikouji informed him, glancing toward the bronze jar that he was holding.

"Do you want me to get it open?"

Gengyo asked, looking toward Nakatane.

"If you can, then that would make our trip down here a little bit less pointless."

He replied, as though the answer was obvious. The young man nodded. He had merely asked in order to get permission. He walked over to his men who were crowding near the bars.

"It's pretty grim down here, eh fellas? What do you reckon we'll find?"

They shared his sentiment. There was not a single man that wouldn't. Unless, perhaps, he had grown up with a family of rats.

"I'm betting on flour or grain."

Yoritomo suggested, given the coolness of the place.

"Stupid. There's no way you could store that down here – it'd go rotten in a day with all this damp."

Aritada retorted.

"Aye, it would. I dunno what you could stick down here, Miura-san. All of its gonna go bad."

Rokaku said, agreeing with Aritada.

"Well, let's check it out, shall we?"

From a distance the door looked to be mightily rusted. But close up, it was even more so. He ran a finger along the poles, inspecting the damage. He pinched one, applying a little bit of pressure. It crumbled straight into his hand.

He looked back toward Nakatane with a triumphant look on his face. The older man could only shake his head.

"Yeah, whatever kid."

He complained, motioning for him to get on with it.

He took his foot back, and kicked outwards toward the gate. His foot went straight through the few poles he made contact with, and loosen the rest. A second kick aimed toward the hinges, and it bent forward. After a third, it was completely on the floor.

He dusted the rust particles from his hand, before stretching his back out and looking upon his handiwork with satisfaction.

"Very subtle lad. Now whoever is down here got a nice warning signal."

The master commented, attempting to even the score.

Gengyo merely shrugged.

"They'll know soon enough. Draw your axes men, and let's get these door's cut open!"

His words were met with a roar of enthusiastic approval as the men charged forth with vigour, brandishing their tools, and setting to work on the doors. Those with sense aimed for the locking mechanism rather than the steel frame of the door itself, as it appeared to rather thick. They were able to move freely as Jikouji had suggested they leave their pikes behind – they would be useless in an altercation down here anyway.

They had to be careful of their footing as they swung, as the stone floor was slippery from the wet. It did not hinder them too greatly though, as a duo of guards who now served under Gengyo managed to pry the first door open.

Their commander wandered in after them, wondering what he might find. The first thing he saw were his men's backs stiffen, putting him on guard. And then he smelt the awful scent of pure sewage, and gagged, his eyes watering, blurring his vision as he looked upon the horrific mess of a person that lay on the floor, savaged.

In a pool of his own urine, and with his own faeces decorating the floor, lay the most malnourished man that Gengyo had ever laid eyes upon. His limbs lay by his side uselessly, as he stared up at them with his lifeless eyes. But he was not quite dead. His visible ribcage still heaved up and down in a resentful attempt at breathing.

He did not want to enter a step further into the room. He wanted to slam the door closed and never look back in again. But it was his duty, and his men looked to him for guidance. He stepped forward attempting to gauge the man's condition. He could not see any visible wounds, or anything of that ilk, he was merely starved. A drop of water landed on his head, and a tongue snuck out, greedily capturing the precious droplet.

"Can you stand?"

He asked the man.

There was not a single word of response. The man did not have the energy.

"Help him up. He needs food and water."

He ordered. His men moved forward, wrinkling their noses as they each slid an arm under the man's shoulder, and all but carried him from the room. Nakatane caught sight of the walking corpse, and called out, startled.

"Miura! What the fuck is that?"

"Exactly what it looks like, I'm afraid. A man half starved."

They drew the attention of the rest of the men, who took a break from their task and stopped to gawk at the skeleton-like figure.

"We don't have any food for him, I'm afraid…"

Jikouji pointed out guilty. They had not thought to bring food for this trip, as they had assumed it would be short.

"There's some bread and water upstairs!"

Kitajo called out, recalling the dining area that they had raided.

"Good. Kitajo-kun, will you lead the way to it? I dare not make this man wait a second longer."

The young boy nodded seriously, straightening his shoulders to bear the weight of the new responsibility placed on him. He moved forward at once, only looking behind him to make sure the other two men were following.

The stick-thin man did not say a word, but his eyes said it all. They were full of desperation.

"I hope… I really hope… that this is not the sign of things to come."

Gengyo muttered as he watched them go. He did not know if he could stomach much more of this. Such neglect was pointlessly cruel. To lock a man up for such a time, and to leave him until he got to such a state. It was an unfathomable cruelty.

Not a single man in the room could voice disagreement.

He glanced at the doors, trying to decide which was the closest to breaking.

"Who was working on this door?"

He pointed to one that had caved in near the lock area, and looked ready to fly open at any second.

Rokkaku raised his hand proudly – still cheerful despite the grim scene from early.

"Good. Continue."

He did not need much motivating. Rokkaku loved breaking things. Who did not? It was a rather satisfying process. Perhaps that was how he managed to always stay relaxed and upbeat.

With a few extra beatings of the axe, it was caved in enough to see part of the inside. A single kick later and the entire thing was off its hinges, falling heavily to floor, raising a few droplets of water along with it.

The young man shielded his face from their splashes, and when his hand moved down he was greeted with another horrific sight.

"…"

Everyone had crowded round to observe, but not a single one of them could find the words to describe what they were looked at.

There, against the wall, sat a single corpse. It looked to be that a woman, though it had become harder to tell due to the decay. In the corpse's arm it cradled a certain thing, as though it was the most natural image. Its own head.

The floor was black in places from dried blood, and a rat scurried past their feet, apparently done feasting. A large needle lay conspicuously in one corner, with a length of twine threaded through it.

"Don't tell me…"

He glanced toward the corpse's hand, and his suspicions were confirmed to be true. The end of a piece of threaded twine peaked out from through the corpses skin. It looked as though someone had purposelessly sewn her head to her hand.

"That sick bastard…"

Nakatane cursed – having seen it too – thoroughly outraged.

"Come. We can do nothing here, but there still might be some people in these rooms that are alive."

He reassigned his men to their tasks of beating down the doors, as he listened to Nakatane and Joukoji discuss what to do with the woman's body.

"We should just leave it here, Nakatane-kun. It serves no purpose out there. Even if we were to return it to the woman's family, it would only cause them grief. I mean, look at it!"

"But even if it's deformed, it's still the body of someone they cared about. They have a right to know what happened to her."

"Sometimes not knowing is a kindness in itself. This is not your responsibility. You don't have to dirty your hands with this kind of thing."

"If we were to cut the head free, then it could still be reattached. I imagine it would be a good deal less horrific than looking at this monstrosity."

Gengyo suggested.

"You want to go and snip each thread that tied it together? That's a grisly task, young man."

Jikouji warned.

"I think it's worth doing. We killed Toda – who was obviously starving them – granted. But I killed all their working men as well. There will be a good deal of animosity toward us. We should do whatever we can to build a stable relationship with the people, else Tobishima will only grow harder to govern later on."

Nakatane tilted his head, listening intently.

"Do you think the same should be done for the men that died on the battlefield?"

Gengyo shrugged.

"Perhaps. It would be a good deal of work, because if we wish to do it, it should be done properly, in the same style that we commemorated our own dead. But it would prove greatly beneficial in the long run. That, and if we offer them support with food. With this, it would not take them long to truly become your people."

The master sighed slightly. He knew what the young man was saying was right, but he still held his doubts.

"But is all that work really worth it? I do not want to sound cold, but what would I gain by taking care of so many people? It doesn't seem like it would be a mutually beneficial relationship, especially since they can't offer up fighting men."

"The majority of our income comes from selling the rice grain, correct? We would be effectively doubling it then. You saw the state of their fields – perfect. Even with the men gone, the women will be able to work them, and in time the children will grow, and there will be fighting men as well."

Jikouji raised his hand, as though to ask him to pause as he shook his head dramatically.

"Alright, the young man has me beat. It truly makes me feel old when I see the youth speak so enthusiastically. There is sense is what the lad says, Nakatane. We should treat these people as our own, and they will return us with favour, in time. An investment, I'd say."

Chapter 62: Tortured Souls

"An investment eh?"

The master mused.

"Very well. But if we are to do it, then I will not allow half-heartedness. We must devote all our efforts into making this work. Jikouji, I'll leave you in charge of it, as young Miura needs to concentrate on getting his men ready for the upcoming war."

"As you wish."

Jikouji bowed lightly, as they heard another door burst open.

"Fuck!"

They heard the axe wielder curse, as everyone crowded round to observe what was inside.

The small body seemed to be that of a young boy. But judging by how thin he was, and the lack of any kind of movement, he appeared to be dead. That was not the chilling part, however. What caused them to back away in horror were the numerous cuts that decorated his limbs. These were not random cuts either, they were cuts that specifically targeted the tendons, so that even if he were to ever escape, he would not be able to move his limbs.

The wounds have become crusted with clotted blood, so it seemed he had survived the ordeal of having the tendons sliced. Perhaps it would have been better had he died? The lad likely thought so. The pain he experienced was unimaginable.

Gengyo moved closed, placing two fingers on his neck, struggling to feel a pulse. The skin was cold to touch, like that of a dead man, but he felt the faint pressure of a heartbeat. And then the boy's head moved, and he stared up at him with pleading eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Sorry, I can't hear you."

The young man apologised, despite his intense focus.

The boy opened his mouth, and apparently repeated the same set of words, as the movement of his mouth was the same. Gengyo stared, and attempted to decipher his lip movements.

"Please… kill… me…"

He thought he saw, and looked down to the boy who nodded slowly. There was a sinking feeling of guilt in the young man's stomach. Whilst it wasn't his fault, he regretted that he would not be able to help the boy further. Alas, fixing so many severed tendons was out of his field of expertise, and the other doctors of that time would have had no chance as well. The boy would have to live the rest of his life, in pain, as a cripple. Perhaps he might gain a degree of movement in his arms and legs, but he would never be able to hold a hoe again.

"Niwa-san… May I borrow your wakizashi?"

The master knew what his intentions were, and he didn't like it in the least.

"Wait, lad. He's still alive. He'll be able to recover to a degree."

Gengyo shook his head.

"He would live the rest of his life in excruciating pain, unable to work for his food. It is kinder to take his life now, as he wishes it."

"Is that really what you want?"

Nakatane asked to the boy, who nodded slowly in reply.

"Very well… here."

He drew his wakizashi reluctantly and handed it to the young man, who handled it carefully, as though it were a bowl of boiling water.

He approached the lad, and knelt down in front of him, putting a hand upon his shoulder.

"We'll take you back to your family after this, okay? I'm sure they've been very worried about you."

Again, a slow nod.

"I hope the gods take pity on you in your next life, and do not force you to relive anything like his again."

He spoke as he drove the short wakizashi through the boy's chest, puncturing his heart. His eyes left Gengyo's and he glanced down at the blade, noting the pool of blood. A second later, his eyes clouded, and he was dead.

He carefully slid the blade out from the boy, and cleaned it on a scrap of the young lad's clothing, before handing it back to Nakatane.

The air around them was heavy, as they had all watched the scene with great reluctance. It seemed the more doors they opened, the heavier their hearts became.

"Continue."

He said to his men, a little despondently. They returned to their tasks, but without the same vigour as before. No one wanted to witness what was behind the next door.

But regardless of their wishes, the next door was open soon enough. They heard a very human yelp of surprise as the door swung open, and they rushed forward, hopeful.

From the ceiling hung a man who had his hands strung up by a pair of chains. He was topless, and his torso was littered with scars and fresh cuts from whiplashes, and knife slashes. Judging by the age of some of the wounds, he had been here quite a while.

But when he looked at them, his gaze was not that of a tortured man. It held an intensity that one would struggle to find even amongst the living. Gengyo met his gaze without a trace of agitation, before he turned to observe the rest of the room.

In the corner, a most disgusting sight had escaped their notice. There sat crouched a small man, with well-muscled arms, clutching onto a rusted blade as he held his head into his chest in fear.

It didn't take less than a second to connect the dots, as the young man strode over, wretching the blade from his grasp with one fluid movement, and hauling him to his feet in another.

As he was made to stand up, there was a distinct jangling sound, attracting their attention to the set of keys that hung at his waist.

"So… this is your doing."

It was not a question.

"Yes… but it was only on Toda-sama's orders! Though I don't forget to have fun now and then gehehe"

He spoke fervently, and manically, as though mad, and his nervous laughter at the end of his announcement only served to make Gengyo's rage boil over. He sent a fist toward the man's grotesque, sweaty face, hitting him hard and drawing blood, allowing the body to fall from his hands to the floor.

He then instead turned his attention to the man hanging from the roof. He was as thin as the other's that they had found, but he contained a degree more life. Loosening his sword from his scabbard, Gengyo struck out at the chains.

They were thick, and it required multiple hacks, but eventually, they snapped, sending the man plummeting to the ground, but now free. The young man caught him, and helped him stand, as he was unsteady on his feet.

"No. No! NO!"

The torturer muttered, growing increasingly agitated.

"You can't take my toy away! There's no one else that will give me such fun!"

Everyone turned to him, shooting him a look of utmost disgust. They each wanted to tear his head off right then and there, and there was a man among them who had the authority to do so.

The master stepped forward, brandishing his sword and swinging it toward the cowering man's head without mercy. He whimpered pathetically, raising his arms in the air in a futile attempt at stopping the downward moving blade.

CLANG

The blade did not meet it's intended target, as another blade blocked it.

Nakatane frowned angrily, glaring toward the wielder.

"Boy! What is the meaning of this?"

"Sorry, Niwa-san. I understand – this is a man that deserves to die, more so than anyone. But it is not for us to take his life. He will be worth a good deal more to us if we allow the villagers to extract their revenge on him."

The master looked back from Gengyo to the despicable torturer, his grip on his sword tightening, before finally he sighed and sheathed his sword.

"Very well…"

He muttered despondently.

Gengyo turned his attention back to the injured man.

"Can you speak?"

He opened his mouth wide, and with a great effort, he managed to force out one word.

"Wat…er."

The young man nodded his understanding, and turned toward Yoritomo and Aritada.

"Take this man upstairs to where Kitajo went, and fetch him some water."

"Got it."

Aritada nodded, moving his arm under the injured man's shoulder, as Yoritomo replaced Gengyo and did the same.

He watched them go, before turning back to the torturer.

"On your feet."

The man whimpered, but did not move.

He raised a fist threateningly.

"I said, on your feet."

This time he was a little more compliant, and he slid up the wall reluctantly, shivering in fear.

The young man grasped the bundle of keys that hung from his waist and tore them from his clothing with force. He moved through his people, and toward the next door, trying each key in the beaten lock until one finally turned, and he pushed it open.

They were met with the skeleton of what seemed to be a man. A few tufts of hair still clung to the chalk-white scalp, but aside from that, there was not much to tell that he had once been living.

The stench was unbearable as well, so he turned away from the corpse for now, and moved toward the rest of the doors.

The scenes were just as unpleasant, and in the remaining four doors they found nothing but corpses. They had men fetch lengths of cloth from the upstairs, and they wrapped the bodies in it so that they could carry them. The corpses were placed in the throne room, and they each heaved a sigh of relief, glad to be out of that musty, hellish basement.

They had tied the torture's hands together with a length of twine, and forced him to move forward without a hint of sympathy.

They waited downstairs upon the throne's steps for the two men to finish the first meal that they had consumed in a long time. The mood amongst them was low. But how could it be otherwise? They had seen some of the most grisly sights that humanity had to offer. Even on the battlefield you could not find some barbarism.

"So how will we return the bodies now?"

Nakatane asked Gengyo, as it had been his idea in the first place.

"We won't. They will come and collect them."

"Ha? How do you propose that would come about?"

"We head to the centre of town, and start making a bit of noise. They are sure to come. Maybe it'll take a while, but curiosity will outweigh fear in the end."

The master shook his head.

"Everything seems so straightforward after you speak it. But you hold more secrets than you should. I've been wanting to ask you for a while – but did not want to call you out in front of your men – how did recognise that the brown powder was opium?"

The young man shrugged, as though it wasn't a big deal.

"I've seen it before. There are all kinds of people in taverns."

"I suppose…"

Nakatane responded, seemingly dissatisfied but he did not push him any further, for which Gengyo was grateful. It would be rather hard to explain that in his time every piece of information could easily be accessed instantaneously. And for a time he had held a curiosity toward the psychology of drug users, and in the process, he had ended up learning about the drugs themselves.

Chapter 63: Retribution

The two weakened men were helped down the stairs a time later, looking a little brighter than they had previously.

"Can you speak?"

Gengyo asked upon seeing them.

The first man shook his head, but the second – who had his body riddled with numerous cuts – managed a reply.

"I can, now that my throat is no longer so dry."

"Good. My questions for you are very simple: who are you, and why did Toda have you imprisoned down there?"

"My name is Togashi Hiraie. The bastard arrested me because me and a few others showed dissatisfaction toward his rule. That fucker took our women as though they were his own! He sold some of them… and kept the rest for himself."

His said angrily, clenching his fist tightly.

"So he really was a slaver…"

Gengyo muttered in thought, before turning his attention back to the man.

"Well, Toda is dead now, Togashi-san. I am sorry to hear of your struggle, but your family may still be amongst the living. You're free to do as you wish."

He turned around to Kitajo, spurred on by a sudden idea.

"How much food is left upstairs?"

Kitajo looked a bit surprised by the sudden question, but he still answered dutifully.

"Uhm… a lot."

"Enough to feed the entire village?"

"Maybe… but not for long."

He raised his eyebrows toward Nakatane, as though to ask for approval.

The older man shook his head, as though exhausted by all the plans that Gengyo seemed to have.

"Do as you want."

"Good. Alright men, those of you who aren't supporting one of the injured, fetch a few bags of food from upstairs."

Morohira frowned in dissatisfaction clearly not relishing the idea of becoming a carthorse.

Noticing this, Gengyo spoke to his older brother.

"Masaatsu, do you think you could search for a cart? If we could find one then it would make our task a good deal easier."

His father opened his mouth wide as if to say: "What!? Why does he get the easy job?"

Masaatsu grinned, knowing exactly what his brother was up to. The young man returned the smile, looking toward his father, urging him to stop complaining.

Conceding the point the older man waved his hand and followed them upstairs with a sigh.

Before long the throne room had become a storage house, as multiple barrels were placed on the floor, alongside a few sacks of rice grain. The young man watched the foodstuff pile up with satisfaction, as he organized the next parts of his plan internally.

Jikouji and Nakatane were only too happy to let him take charge of this part. Like the rest of the men, after seeing the grisly sights that they had today, they were not exactly filled with optimism, and the energy required to keep up with the younger man's enthusiasm was not something they could muster.

Besides, it was a good test of his leadership qualities. He had done well in battle, granted, but that did not mean he was would make an entirely successful leader. But as they watched him more, their approval grew. He held a respect for his men, as they held a respect for him. He treated them as friends, but he also expected their cooperation. It was a very healthy relationship.

By the time they were done, the men were exhausted.

"Good work fellas. You can rest for a bit now."

They rested their bottoms upon the cold stone steps, sighing with relief as they relieved their aching muscles, and wiped the sweat from their brow.

Masaatsu came in a few moments later, looking excited.

"You found one, then?"

Gengyo guessed, seeing his expression.

"Not only that, brother, there are two cart-horses in the stables to the rear! It's a big cart – 6 wheels – it'll have no problem handing this amount. You can even put the dead and wounded on it."

Caught up by his brother's enthusiasm, he began smiling too.

"That sounds perfect. Where is the cart now?"

Masaatsu's grin widened.

"It's right outside the front."

"Perfect!"

Gengyo praised genuinely, patting his brother on the shoulder, pleased with his decision making.

"You've done well brother. Our job will be much easier now. Go and rest. Father looks pretty miserable – perhaps you could cheer him up a bit, haha?"

Morohira overheard, and responded grumpily.

"Don't bother!"

The young man turned his attention toward the 4 men who had been supporting the two wounded.

"It seems there was no need to save your legs for carrying the men back into town. Come and help me load this into the cart. We'll let the others rest for a bit, eh?"

They nodded. Whilst they had been pleased not to be doing any work, it had made them feel a little bad after seeing how exhausted the others had become.

Gengyo took the lead, heaving a bag of rice flour onto his shoulder, and setting off toward the door.

Nakatane and Jikouji watched him, a little surprised that he was taking part in the labour himself. He had a good amount of men at his disposal – there was no need to exert himself.

But when they saw how the men responded to his efforts, his reasoning became clear, and they themselves wondered whether they should join in.

In the end, they did, caught up in the young man's flow. The cart was quickly loaded with the 7 of them working together. Two people helped to carry the bodies, leaving them near the front, and another two helped the wounded men inside the cart.

"Are we going back into Tobishima?"

Togashi asked to Gengyo as he helped him toward the cart.

"That's right. I'm sure your family will be glad to see you."

The thin man shook his head despondently.

"Would that I had family… They have all died. I planned to kill Toda should I ever escape from those wretched walls, but now, I am unsure what to do."

"Can you fight?"

Togashi laughed slightly, before grimacing from the pain it caused.

"Fighting is what got me into this mess – it's one of the few things I'm good at."

"Then why not join me? I have a need for men."

The man stared at him, startled, struggling to formulate a response.

"But I-"

Gengyo cut him off.

"You don't need to respond now. Go back to your village, see your people, and then decide if you truly don't wish to re-join them."

He helped him up to the cart, before walking back to load the last few sacks of rice. Togashi watched him go, staring at his back with curiosity, his thoughts a raging torrent of confusion.

Nakatane wiped his brow, now drenched in sweat, and breathing heavily. He could not remember the last time he had engaged in such manual labour. The only thing he had ever put any real physical effort into was training his sword.

Gengyo was not in such poor shape, but the sight of his exhausted men and the exhausted master caused him to consider something new.

"I'll have to focus on conditioning the men…"

He muttered under his breath as he walked past. Nakatane overheard him, thinking that his men were not the only ones that needed conditioning. It was humiliating for him to be brought so low by such basic labour, and he vowed to put more time into the upkeep of his body.

Once the loading of the cart was done, and the horses were attached, the young man turned to the master for approval.

"Shall we set off then?"

"Aye, let's."

He replied, having now recovered his breath.

"Let's be on our way then, men."

With a light tug, Masaatsu pulled the reigns of one of the carthorses, and lead them forward. The rest of their group followed, walking slowly behind, glad to finally be out of that mansion.

A good deal of time had passed since they had first set out that morning, and now the sun sat lower in the sky, threatening to set at any moment. The men would have been mightly hungry had they not managed to snack on Toda's leftovers, so it was rather fortunate that such supplies had been discovered.

They did not see a single villager on their way back toward the centre of the village. It seemed they had taken note of their arrival beforehand, and deemed it safer to stay out of their way.

It was a little demoralising for the men, as they had expected to win the villager's favour merely with the cart that they towed. But there was no one to see their offerings.

There was a raised wooden platform, roughly where the centre of the village might be, and they stopped there, unloading the bodies, and laying them gently down beside each other.

"What now?"

Nakatane asked, after that task had been completed.

"This."

Gengyo responded, and stepped up onto the platform. He took a deep breath, and filled his lungs, before letting out a loud shout.

"PEOPLE OF TOBISHIMA – HEAR MY WORDS. TODA IS DEAD. YOUR SUFFERING IS OVER. PLEASE FIND RETRIBUTION FOR THE CRIMES COMMITTED AGAINST YOU IN THE MARKETPLACE."

His voice rang out loudly across the village. A few flinched, startled by the sudden shout. They waited for a few minutes, but not a single thing moved. Not even the air, for there was no wind that day. A frightening stillness.

They looked toward the young man, their expressions saying it all: "what now?"

But he showed no traces of disappointed, he merely opened his mouth wide to speak once more.

"PEOPLE OF TOBISHIMA – HEAR MY WORDS. TODA IS DEAD. YOUR SUFFERING IS OVER. PLEASE FIND RETRIBUTION FOR THE CRIMES COMMITTED AGAINST YOU IN THE MARKETPLACE."

Once again they listened for a few minutes, and heard nothing, aside from the slamming of a door, and the tweeting of an annoyed bird.

"PEOPLE OF TOBISHIMA – HEAR MY WORDS. TODA IS DEAD. YOUR SUFFERING IS OVER. PLEASE FIND RETRIBUTION FOR THE CRIMES COMMITTED AGAINST YOU IN THE MARKETPLACE."

They waited a few moments more, and in the house nearest to them, he spied a shutter loosen, and the head of a young woman stick out. She spied the sacks of rice that had holes in places, causing some of the precious grains to spill out over the surface of the platform.

Her belly rumbled involuntarily, and her mouth salivated. She could not remember the last time she had eaten rice.

He smiled toward her, nodding encouragingly, before turning his back to her again, and renewing his shout.

"PEOPLE OF TOBISHIMA – HEAR MY WORDS. TODA IS DEAD. YOUR SUFFERING IS OVER. PLEASE FIND RETRIBUTION FOR THE CRIMES COMMITTED AGAINST YOU IN THE MARKETPLACE."

They heard another shutter open, as another head poked out. And then they saw the door of the first woman open, as she cautiously made her way out. Gengyo stepped toward a barrel, causing the woman to flinch. He removed the lid, drawing out a piece of bread. He held it up, for her, and the other few who had been enticed, and then he threw it toward her.

It was a good throw, but an even better catch. There was no chance that she would let such good food sully. She grabbed it and ducked back inside, digging in greedily. She shared it with her younger brother who watched anxiously from behind the door.

And then he renewed his shout.

"PEOPLE OF TOBISHIMA – HEAR MY WORDS. TODA IS DEAD. YOUR SUFFERING IS OVER. PLEASE FIND RETRIBUTION FOR THE CRIMES COMMITTED AGAINST YOU IN THE MARKETPLACE."

Chapter 64: Righting The Wrongs

Slowly the people came, enticed by the food. They glanced toward the wrapped corpses warily, but the relief quickly came when firmly secure in their hands was a loaf of bread. They tended to retreat back to their homes after that, just as the first woman had. But after a time, they ventured further out, testing the waters.

The young woman neared the platform, glancing from Gengyo toward a rice sack with urgency, struggling to swallow her saliva.

"…Can I really take that bag of rice?"

She asked hesitantly.

The young man nodded reassuringly.

"Of course. That's the only reason they're here – we have no other use for them."

He hefted the bag up, and handed it to her.

"Be careful, it's rather heavy."

The weight was no issue, as she cradled it in her arms almost disbelievingly.

"Ah, before you go, do you recognise any of these bodies? We found them when we were raiding Toda's mansion."

She grew a degree warier now that she had been made to turn back around, but she still did as he said, hoping that there truly was no hidden strings attached.

She glanced at them from a distance, her eyes widening in surprise.

"I do… They were taken away a long time ago."

Her eyes grew even more sad as she looked upon the body of the young boy whom they had put out of his misery.

"Do you know him?"

Gengyo prodded.

"Yes. He was my little brother's friend."

She responded, looking toward the young man expectantly as if to ask: "is there anything else?"

He nodded at her unspoken question.

"You can leave now if you wish."

With hurried footsteps, she stepped back into her home. There was an audible cry of surprise from her younger brother as he caught sight of her cargo.

It caused them to smile lightly, and Gengyo turned toward Nakatane.

"Aye lad. I'm pleased we decided to do this."

"As am I."

Jikouji murmured with a faraway look in his eye, as though he was remembering something from his youth.

Many of the villagers were watching them, even if they could not see them all. They spied out through cracks in the wood of their houses, wondering whether this really was what they claimed it to be, as a more suspicious event would be hard to imagine.

The young woman's successful claiming of a bag of rice and bread brought them hope, as they came closer, looking upon the bodies of the dead as Gengyo had asked.

"That's… That's Kayade! My sister!"

A man screamed, looking toward the skinless corpse that had once been his sister. He was rather surprised that someone could still recognise the body, even with its condition, but the young man still nodded.

"I see. Would you like to take her with you? Or perhaps you might like to wait. In a day or two, a funeral will be held for the men of Tobishima who died fighting for Toda."

The man bit his lip, as tears started to fall down.

"Kayade… Poor Kayade."

He groaned. It took him a few moments to register Gengyo's question.

"Ah… I should take her home… So that we can mourn her properly – and then… a funeral?"

"That sounds fine. You could bring her back for the funeral, and there would be no problem."

He nodded once, twice, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his tattered kimono. He looked from the body, back to the sack of rice he held in his hand. His thoughts were obvious.

"I'll help you carry her, if you like?"

"Ah… ok. Yes… okay."

"Alright, I'll just get rid of this so it doesn't get in the way."

He purposefully removed his sword and scabbard, laying them down on the platform. He had passed it off as something else, but in truth, it was done so that he might pose less of a threat.

Being the astute minds that they were, Nakatane and Jikouji fully understood his actions, and they had to physically stop themselves from shaking their heads. His ability to handle people was frightening.

He moved toward the legs of the body, preparing to lift it as he waited for the other man to get in position. He had to struggle with the bag of rice that he was holding, but apparently, he was unwilling to let it go. They managed anyway, as he cradled her shoulders, whilst Gengyo heaved the legs.

The man directed them, leading him towards a certain house.

As they neared, the door was pushed open, apparently of its own accord. Their step did not falter, and they promptly walked inside.

Their reception consisted of a middle-aged woman, who Gengyo assumed to be that man's mother, and an older couple, who he assumed to be his grandparents. He had wondered why the man – given his age – was still around. Presumably, he should have been drafted for the war? But as he watched him walk, this answer soon became apparent, as he had a rather vicious limp.

They set the body down, and the tears began almost immediately.

"Oh… Kayade… Kayade-chan!"

The mother threw herself at the skeletal remains of her daughter, clutching them tight.

It was then that Gengyo judged it to be a good time to leave. Not saying a word, he bowed lightly, and moved toward the door.

The elderly gentleman – who was likely the man's grandfather – stopped him.

"Thank you, young man. Thank you very much."

His words were composed, but his voice was choked, and it seemed he too was in the midst of grief. The younger man nodded deeply in reply, attempting to convey his feelings, and then he truly did leave.

By the time he neared the platform, other people were already on their way to secure some food. They inspected the bodies too. Most people recognised them, as the village was a closely nit community – only driven apart by Toda's cruel reign. And so the number of corpses soon became zero, and their food stock started to dwindle, but it appeared everyone had taken their fill, and were now back in the safety of their own home.

And so, Gengyo cleared his throat for one final announcement, happy with the day's outcome.

"WE HOPE THAT EACH OF YOU HAS TAKEN THEIR FILL. WE WILL BE HERE A FEW MOMENTS LONGER IN CASE YOU HAVE NOT. A FUNERAL SERVICE WILL BE HELD IN TWO DAYS TIME ON THE FIELD THAT CONNECTS TOBISHIMA AND TOYONE FOR YOUR MEN WHO FELL UNDER TODA'S HAND…"

He paused a second, collecting his breath, and looking toward a certain individual behind him.

"AND, JUSTICE WILL BE DELIVERED, AT YOUR HANDS. THIS GROTESQUE LITTLE CREATURE BEHIND ME WAS ONE OF TODA'S DOGS. HE TORTURED YOUR FRIENDS, AND HE TORTURED YOUR FAMILY. THOSE IN TODA'S DUNGEONS SUFFERED GREATLY FROM HIS CRUELTY. ON THAT DAY, TWO DAYS HENCE, HIS FATE WILL BE DECIDED BY YOU."

He finished strongly, coughing slightly from straining his voice so heavily. He could not remember the last time had to shout, but he knew for a certainty it was not something he enjoyed.

"How's that?"

He asked of Nakatane.

"Good. We will see whether you manage to win these people round. If you do though, there will be a reward in store."

A reward? Gengyo raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had already been rewarded the day prior with this new position.

"What kind of reward, Niwa-san?"

"Coin. So that you might recruit more men."

He held back a groan. Was that truly a reward? He had hoped that would have been something that he was guaranteed, especially since Nakatane expected him to raise a full unit before Imagawa came knocking.

Still, having his own coin could prove beneficial, he supposed. It would allow him more freedom in cultivating what he wished to, as if there was ever a thing that annoyed him most it would be restriction. For creativity to be held back by material resources was a great tragedy.

"Very well. I'll do my best."

An appropriate response. The master nodded his head without complaint.

Though Jikouji had been tasked with overseeing their relations with Tobishima, it seemed to have fallen to Gengyo to kickstart the project. But that was of no consequence to the younger man, as such motions did not feel taxing in the least.

The young man turned to his men, judging their mood. Of the two live men who they had found in the dungeon, only one remained.

"So, you decided to stay after all, Togashi-kun?"

He asked of the skinny man.

"I did… I did. Seeing my people after so long – it was heartwarming. But I have changed too much to return to that simple life. I have a feeling that under you, I will be able to grow stronger, so that the likes of Toda will never best me again."

He admired the man's honesty and straightforwardness. His understanding of his own feelings was remarkable, and his expression of them even more so. Despite his trauma, he appeared to be rather level headed, and his choices were rational. It was an exciting man that he had encountered, and he judged himself lucky to have him as one of his men.

"I hope you find what you're looking for, Togashi-kun. But I have a feeling you will."

"Aye bud! Welcome to Miura's Special Forces unit under Niwa-sama the landholder of Toyone."

Rokkaku seconded cheerfully, poking at an already open wound.

"Again with this Rokkaku-san… We don't need to choose a name."

Gengyo complained wearily.

"Maybe… But what happens when we do something amazing? What will people call us? The winged dragons? The demon soldiers?"

"Ok… Please, neither of those two."

Niiro grumbled, thoroughly disliking such cheesy titles.

"We'll think of something, in time."

The young man assured them.

"What about The Immortals? Even with the odds stacked against us, we're still alive, ain't we?"

Rokkaku called out enthusiastically.

"That does sound pretty cool…"

Kitajo said in a quiet voice.

"It's fitting for someone as powerful as me."

Morohira agreed.

"I'd rather not jinx my life like that, thank you very much."

Gengyo waved the idea out of the window. The subject of titles was the last thing on his mind. He wondered whether his men would still have time to think about such trivial things after he subjected them to their new training routine?

He grinned at the thought.

Rokkaku visibly shuddered.

"Man… that look. I think our boss has thought of something evil! Better watch yourselves in future."

The young man did not rush to dispel their fears, and merely continued smiling as an ominous chill washed over his men.

A few more villagers came to collect their foodstuffs as the men continued with their idle conversation. And then, with the setting of the sun, they took the remaining food with them and left toward home.

As they passed the bodies, the topic of the funeral was discussed more thoroughly, and through the medium of Jikouji, arrangements were made to have it prepared for the date that Gengyo had promised. The work would be rather laborious, as it had been the previous time, but now that they had discussed the rewards for doing so, not a single complaint was to be had.

Chapter 65: A New Home

They walked on through the village. As they passed the houses, some of the men took their leave, returning home to their families for the evening.

Before long the only ones left were those that dwelled within the Niwa estate, and Togashi. Nakatane lead the way, and soon they found themselves outside an unfamiliar home of rather grand proportions.

"This is yours now, Miura-kun."

"Eh!?"

Masaatsu and Morohira gasped in surprise, turning to Gengyo for an explanation. He met their surprised stares with a simple shrug. There was not much that required explaining.

"I see. Thank you."

He said not impolitely.

"It has been cleaned and tidied. There is very little that remains left inside, aside from the essentials. Do with the space as you wish."

The master continued, a little sadly, clearly remembering something in regards to Ishiyama.

He turned his face away, hiding his expression as he took his leave.

"It is time we went. Enjoy your evening in your new home, Miura-kun."

And so he walked away. Jikouji nodded toward them before following him.

"Things keep changing."

Masaatsu noted a little pensively as silence began to reign.

"Don't worry about it too much. It's just a formality. It's like me being in a different room – I'm only a short walk away. You and the rest are free to come by whenever you like. Treat it like a second home."

"I wish I could… but look how grand it is!"

His brother replied, staring up at the large two-storied house in awe.

"It's 'my house' now, so it's a house of the Miura family too. Are you and father not of the Miura family?"

Morohira needed no persuading – he was not the type to restrain himself merely for the sake of politeness.

"Don't worry about it kid, I'll come by every day and use your bathing tub."

The young man grimaced.

"Maybe not that…"

"Haha, joking. Anyway, Masaatsu, we best leave your brother to it, eh? He's a retainer now. Can't be smothering him all the time."

For once he showed a hint of maturity, and lead his oldest son – who still looked rather unsure – away, after they exchanged farewells.

He heaved a sigh, watching them leave. They were his dear family, but it had been an exhausting day, and it felt good to finally be alone. He stepped up onto the porch of his new home, taking in the feel. It was only then that he noticed a figure out of the corner of his eye, and jumped slightly.

"Togashi!? Ah… You're still here."

He exclaimed, struggling to calm his racing heart. The man had remained so quiet and so still whilst he had been chatting with Nakatane and the rest, that he had forgotten he was there. It was most uncanny.

"I am, sir."

"You don't have to call me sir, Miura will do."

He responded back, a hand on his chin as he pondered their current situation. He wondered why he had made such an oversight that he had forgotten to find a place for Togashi to stay, but his brain was too tired to contemplate for long, and he made a swift and simple decision.

"May as well stay here, Togashi-kun. I'm sure there are plenty of rooms."

The skinny man grew flustered, as though he had not expected such a proposal.

"No! Heavens no! I could never stay in such a grand place. I'm a peasant! I haven't washed in god knows how long… I would soil the room."

With a hand on his shoulder, and a gentle tone, Gengyo worked to calm him down.

"Togashi-kun. Calm down. I'm a peasant too. And if it makes you feel any better, there's a bathhouse over there – you can go and take a dip. But if you're too tired it can wait till morning."

His eyes widened at Gengyo's statement of his social class, and he moved his mouth to protest, only then realizing he knew nothing of the young man's origins. He followed the finger that the young man was using to point, and his eyes fell on the bathhouse.

He imagined the warm water against his skin, and he became acutely aware of just how filthy he was. He'd been stained by months of blood, urine, sweat and faeces. It would be a blessing to be clean again.

"…Can I really? But I have no clean clothes – it would be a waste."

"Nonsense. There are clean kimonos laid out upon the shelves inside. Find one that fits, and you'll be a changed man."

He took a glance at Togashi's long rugged hair, and thick manly beard, and wondered whether he should suggest that he had those trimmed as well. But he could not bring himself to. For some reason, it suited the man, even if it did not look entirely clean.

"Are you really certain I'll be okay..?"

He asked hesitantly, looking toward the bathhouse longingly.

Gengyo pushed him lightly on the back.

"Go on. Stop being so shy. Spend as much time in there as you like, and don't worry about knocking when you come back, just head inside and pick a room. I might be asleep, I might not. We'll see what happens."

Then, he turned and began making his way inside. The skinny man bit his lip nervously, wondering whether it really would be fine. But fearing that complaining any more would anger his new boss, he decided to take him up on the offer, and walked slowly toward the bathhouse, his heart pounding.

The young man secretly turned back around to observe his newest subordinate, making sure that he made it to the bathhouse fine.

'He's an odd man.'

He thought to himself. Odd, but extremely likeable. He was glad that the man had decided to come with him, as he had a feeling that they would get on rather well.

He wandered into a large reception room that greeted the entrance of the house. There was nothing in the room, apart from a small solid wood table, atop a fresh tatami floor. The table was not empty, however, and upon it sat a bundle of different scrolls, a bokken, and a wooden pole that would serve as a training substitute for a yari.

He shook his head lightly with a chuckle. Nakatane's words were never to be taken lightly. He had delivered on his conditions exactly as he had said, and now it was Gengyo's turn to do the same.

He picked up a scroll at random, undoing its seal and allowing it to roll open a little.

"Sharp arrow formation."

He read aloud the first sentence. Underneath was a beautifully drawn diagram consisting of numerous triangles, crosses, circles and squares. He later read a key that defined each. The triangles as archers, the crosses as yari, the circles as horsemen, and the squares as katana units.

It was a rather aggression formation that sat the archers in front, roughly in the shape of an arrow, with a second row of archers behind them, followed by a line of pikemen, and then two columns of horsemen and katana units behind it.

He grinned as he reviewed the numerous formations, anticipating their uses. He found their positioning to be rather informative, though there were some that were quite obviously floored, which he quickly identified and ignored.

He read through the scrolls at speed, occasionally pausing to envision such formations, or such positions in his head, and get a feel for how they might be utilised. The time passed quickly, and soon his candle had already burned halfway.

TAP TAP

The sudden noise broke his concentration, and he raised his head, looking toward the door.

"Like I said Togashi-kun – there's no need to knock."

Silence. Absolutely no reply.

He waited for a few moments before speaking again.

"Togashi? Are you there?"

Still, there was no reply, and his curiosity began to be replaced by worry. A scene where the frail man had fainted upon making his way to his door played out in his head, and he rushed to open it with haste.

"Togash-"

He began, sliding the door open, only to swallow his words midsentence as he caught sight of a rather familiar face.

"Akiko…"

Her lips came together in a sweet smile, casting light on the entirety of her beautiful visage. He had not seen that face so close for what felt like a long time, and he stood there for a few moments, dumbstruck.

"Ah, sorry! Do come in – it's pretty nippy outside."

She stepped gracefully inside after him, a smile still blossoming on her face.

"I was afraid you wouldn't be awake, since it is rather late."

She commented lightly, not taking her eyes off him.

"Ah, is it? I've sort of lost track of time… haha."

It was odd. Ever since the battle, he had an urge to see her, but now that she was here, he didn't know quite what to say.

"So I see."

She said, looking toward the scrolls that were scattered across the table and floor.

"You've only been here a few hours, and you've already made quite the mess."

He grinned at that, and announced his condition proudly.

"I have the ability to cause a mess even without wishing to."

"I don't think that's all that uncommon… Nor do I think it's something you should be proud of."

She retorted laying low his quip.

They held each others gaze for a few seconds, each of them smiling, as a silence began to brew.

"You know, it's really good to see you again."

Gengyo said genuinely as he sat himself down by the table, before clearing a few scrolls and gesturing for her to do the same.

"It is, though I see you've changed once again."

She said cryptically, still maintaining her smile, as she sat down beside him.

"Have I? I don't feel too different."

She shook her head emphatically.

"No, Tadakata-kun. You are certainly different. You're the hero of Toyone now. You couldn't have done that without changing."

He quickly brushed that ridiculous title aside, highlighting her own achievements instead.

"You are the people's hero, I'd think, Akiko. I heard from Rin how you lead the women and managed to defeat the mercenaries. I'd like to thank you for that. If not for you, then my fight would have been for nothing."

She blushed lightly, interpreting a double meaning to his words.

"Please… Don't say such things. Your mother is in bed injured because o-"

"Stop. My mother is alive because of you. Even if she got injured, she will recover."

He cut her off midsentence, his gaze gaining a serious intensity.

"Ah…"

She opened her mouth to speak, before closing it again. Her smile faded, and she began to look at the ground.

It was more than obvious what was going through her head, and so Gengyo reached his hand out to offer her some comfort. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, turning her to look at him.

"Akiko. Women died under you, correct?"

"…Yes. My poor leadership caused their loss of lives."

"Women and children lived because of you too, correct?"

"…"

She could not answer. She knew he was right, but she could not help but dwell on the losses. She shook her head fiercely, trying to rid herself of the wave of guilt that attempted to grip her.

It was only then that she realized Gengyo's touch, as she struggled to process it. She turned her face away from his, hiding the redness that now invaded.

"…T-Tadakata. I'm… I'm really lucky to have met you."

She said, stuttering as she attempted to hide her embarrassment.

Chapter 66: Misunderstandings

"It is strange how things turn out."

He mused aloud.

She could not agree more with that statement. The twists of fate were too numerous for mortal comprehension. But it felt wrong to call what had happened fate. Fate is something that was always meant to be… But with him, it could not be called that.

"You know, I was surprised when you accepted father's proposal so quickly."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"I'm not sure… you just seemed like you were happy with what you had… I didn't realize you had ambition."

He raised an eyebrow at her words.

"Mmm, I suppose you're right. This was never my goal. It more just happened. Perhaps if I had been offered the same opportunity a few weeks ago, I might have refused."

"What changed?"

She asked softly, turning her head to look up at him.

"It's hard to describe… but in short, it was because of a feeling."

"A feeling?"

She asked, as though dissatisfied with his response.

"Aye, a feeling. A feeling I had during the battle."

"What kind of feeling?"

She pressed him, her eyes not leaving his as she locked him into answering.

He looked away as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, wondering whether he really should make an attempt at describing it. Would she not find such a thing repulsive?

"A… This is going to sound really stupid."

"What feeling, Tadakata?"

"Euphoria… I suppose. Everything seemed to align perfectly. Even though those spears were poised ready to take my life, I did not feel fear as I charged towards them… I felt invincible. A fire was in my blood – it was such a powerful feeling, Akiko. I thought, perhaps, that if I could live my life chasing that feeling, then maybe life would be worth living."

She listened intently, as she too turned her head to ponder, freeing herself from his arm.

Seeing her actions, he grew a deal nervous, wondering whether it was the right idea to share what he had felt like that. He knew the other men had felt it too… but he wondered whether his feeling was different.

"Tadakata, is that truly what you want?"

She said at last.

"I think so."

She turned back to look at him, offering a small smile that seemed to take a great effort to force.

"Then… I will support you."

"Akiko…"

What she said evidently opposed what she felt.

"What's wrong?"

"It was silly, but I had thought once the battle was over, that we might spend more time together. But soon you will be going away again… and then you will be going away again after that."

"No, no… Listen it won't be like that. We can spend time together. More than we ever might have. Through the day too – won't that be better?"

He urgently tried to reassure her, feeling a stabbing guilt as he looked into those sad eyes.

"Dummy!"

She hit his chest with her fist as tears began to fill her eyes.

"You almost died! Do you understand how worried I was? And how it felt not being able to see you? And now you want to fight even more… What if you really do die next time?"

She yelled, her tears choking her voice and staining her cheeks.

His eyes widened, startled by her outburst, before a moment later he began to smile as comprehension set in.

'So that's what it was…'

He was not smiling with joy, but from the warm feeling that filled his chest from the young woman's kindness.

"I'm sorry, Akiko… I didn't realize."

He pulled her into his chest, gently patting her back as he tried to calm her.

"You're right… I was close. But I didn't die. Nor do I intend to. Can you trust me?"

She looked at him with her tearfilled eyes.

"Y-you really intend to continue?"

"I do. But I won't die. I won't even come close."

He said resolutely, firmly believing his own words. There was not a chance he could come close to such an overwhelming disadvantage as he did on the field of battle that day. If he could survive that, then the future was limitless.

"…Promise?"

"I promise."

She put her arms around his back, returning the hug, burrowing her face in his chest as she found comfort in his scent. She drew deep breaths in an attempt to try and calm herself.

SLMMM

In that moment, the front door slid open, and Gengyo looked upwards, meeting the gaze of a rather bewildered Togashi. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, as Akiko continued to sniffle within the young man's embrace, unaware of the other man's presence.

"…Was your bath pleasant?"

He asked lightly.

"It was, Miura-san. I feel much cleaner now… Ah, forgive me, I did not realize you would be with your wife."

He hurried across the room, pointing to the stairs as though to ask for permission. Gengyo gave a firm nod, as Akiko peaked her head up, blushing firmly. She looked as though she wanted to refute his statement, but in the end, she did not, and they merely watched as he disappeared into one of the side rooms, and heaved an audible sigh of relief.

"…Do you think he misunderstood?"

Akiko asked tentatively.

"Oh, definitely."

She giggled at his bluntness, sniffing away the last of her tears. It was not an overly unpleasant title, so she did not mind too much.

"Are you feeling better now?"

He asked, as her face still wore a more genuine smile.

She stood up and stretched her back, sighing with pleasure from the relieved tension.

"Yup!"

She said firmly.

"I'll trust you, Miura Tadakata, so you better do good!"

"Good? I can do a little better than good. Perhaps great? I think I'll give being great a stab, see how that turns out."

"Aha, do try!"

She laughed once more, using the sleeve of her kimono to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

TAP TAP TAP

The sound of the first droplets of rain hitting the porch. They came lightly at first, but their intensity increased rather quickly, and quite soon there was a steady torrent of rain coming down.

He acknowledged the droplets lightly, feeling rather glad to be inside.

"There is something about the rain," he began, "that makes me so very relaxed – at least, when I am inside."

"Yup, you feel happy to be at home and amongst the warmth, and it clears the air so you can sleep well."

"Exactly."

He agreed with her assessment, wandering in to examine what he thought to be the kitchen area. There were the flickering embers of a fire that had once been, surrounded by an encasement of stone. There was a sheet of metal that slid across the top of the fire, and could be used to heat various items.

He nodded with approval.

'It's a deal better than the more primitive open fire, but it's not as though it's perfect.'

He thought to himself as he reached within a basket full of firewood, and drew two logs to try and recapture the roaring flame that had once been.

He noticed a simple iron kettle, and carefully removed the lid to see if there was any water left inside. As it happens there was, a finger inside the liquid confirmed it to be cool, and recently filled.

Beside it there were two jars both boasting a good amount of sencha – green tea – leaves.

'Jikouji really took good care of the details.'

He thought to himself.

"Would you care for some tea, Akiko?"

He called to her, as she sat fiddling with a scroll, watching him investigate the kitchen.

"I would, thank you."

He nodded, taking the order, as he filled two cups with the hot liquid.

"How are you finding the house?"

She asked as he carried the two steaming cups toward the table.

"To be honest, I haven't really explored it. But, I mean, it's nice."

"Just nice? You're so strange, Tadakata. Surely this is much grander than the house you used to live in… yet you don't even bat an eye."

He shrugged, setting the tea out in front of her, before he sat down alongside her.

"I don't know. It just doesn't excite me, you know? As long as I can eat in it, and sleep in it, and it keeps the rain off my head, then I can't really complain."

She blew lightly on her tea, shaking her head.

"So strange. Even Rin says you're weird."

He cocked his head at that.

"Tell me more."

"Haha, wouldn't you like to know!"

He grinned, already knowing it wouldn't have been that easy.

"Still, you getting on so well with my sister is rather surprising."

"Is it? Am I really that hard to get along with?"

She asked, pouting.

"I wouldn't say so. But Rin is pretty fierce, I thought she'd probably make you cry."

"What a rude way to speak of your sister!"

She said, mock scolding him.

"Mm, in my eyes, it's a good thing."

"What? Making me cry?"

"Exactly."

He didn't bother to correct her, as they both knew full well which part he was referring to. She giggled lightly at his humour as she toyed with the bokken that still sat perched upon the table.

"It's weirder for me that you and my father get along so well."

He grimaced at that, wondering whether he and Nakatane really did get on. He seemed to recall a good few times where the older man had hit his head.

"Well… we seem to have a certain understanding toward each other."

Was the best he could manage.

"Really? Just an understanding? He often speaks of you when we eat together."

"Everyone seems to be speaking of me. Well, do I get to know any of these things that he spoke of?"

"Mm… No. But they're mostly good things."

"'Mostly'?"

He remarked, a little put off by her use of the word.

"Yup. Mostly."

He sighed, shaking his head and taking a sip of his tea, watching the rain fall down aggressively.

Flash.

A sudden light permeated throughout the room, and a few seconds later the low rumblings of thunder could be heard.

"Lightning, eh?" He commented absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of the tea.

"Is it not a bit late, Akiko?"

He asked as they sat in silence for a while longer. Her contented smile faded at his question, and was replaced by a look of realization, as she stood up anxiously, heading toward the door.

"Ah! I'd-I'd forgotten. I need to be getting back… It must be really late. Oh, what will Shibata think seeing me come back so late!"

But the rain was too heavy. She knew that should she step outside she would be drenched in seconds, and that she would require a bath to warm up once again. It was a futile effort. She turned around to Gengyo, her eyes begging for a solution.

He stood up, nodding at her request, setting down his tea.

"Fair maiden, since you are in need, it is time I revealed my true identity."

She looked toward him, her eyes round.

"I AM THE GOD OF THUNDER!"

He shouted, flaring his arms out of wide. He paused, looking toward her. That had been her queue to laugh. But instead of disbelief, upon her face he saw understanding.

"Ahem…" He coughed lightly in his hand.

"RAIN, DISAPPEAR!"

He clapped his hands together, his face a mask of intensity, as he commanded the rain to cease its torrents with authority. She whirled toward the door, fully expecting the downpour to begin to slow.

But much to her disappointment, it did not, and she turned back to Gengyo for an explanation.

"I was joking…"

He said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh…"

She murmured, beginning to blush as understanding set in.

Chapter 67: The First Mission

"Why not just stay the night?"

He asked, gesturing to the doorways of one of the many rooms. Her blush only deepened at his words and her fists clenched.

"Ah, no. Not like that. I mean just borrow one of the rooms and try to sleep a little while the rain dies down."

He quickly moved to clear up her misunderstanding.

"…Where will you be sleeping?"

"I think I'll stay down here a little longer. You go ahead and choose a room – it doesn't matter which. I won't disturb you, so rest assured."

She bit her lip wondering whether this really was the right course of action. What would people think if they saw her coming out of his house early in the morning… of course, they'd think 'that'. She felt embarrassed just contemplating it. But still, it would be ridiculous to charge through the rain only to be completely soaked.

"Fine… I'll go ahead and try and sleep a little then."

She said, nodding, more to assure herself than anyone else. Gengyo returned her nod with a smile, trying to imply that it'd be fine.

She tentatively began up the stairs, reaching her hand out to open the first door, before recoiling as she remembered Togashi was in there. She took a deep breath to steel herself, and then walked stiffly along the landing onto the next room.

She wanted to say goodnight to Gengyo, but from the embarrassment, she could not bring herself to. She slid open the door, and closed it hurriedly, as if to block any prying eyes.

He watched her go, amused by her dramatics, as he turned keenly back to his scrolls, enjoying his reading all the more after his conversation with Akiko.

…

…

He was awoken by the strong stench saké sitting right under his nose. He flinched from its foul odour, his eyes shooting open to see his vision filled with a grinning Nakatane.

"Ahaha! Wakey wakey lad!"

"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?"

He commented unenthusiastically as he wiped the sleep from his eyes feeling utterly exhausted. Judging by his current surroundings, it seemed that he had fallen asleep whilst reading the scrolls, and the dull aching of his forehead confirmed that he had indeed slept against the table.

"Probably."

He agreed, setting down a large sack upon the table, marked by the audible clanging of metal.

"And this is?"

"Yesterday's haul."

Nakatane said, peeking inside and removing a golden candle holder, examining it with a squinting gaze.

"I can't really see the appeal in having it golden..?"

"Neither can I. Aesthetically, it's a bit of a disgrace."

The master gave him a funny look at that, as though dissatisfied with his answer.

"Well… Let's get down to business then…"

He brought the bottle close to his nose, savouring the scent as he continued his speech with a good deal more vigour.

"You're going to head to Toyokawa and sell these."

Gengyo leaned back onto his hands, enjoying the springiness of the tatami underneath his palms as he stifled a yawn.

"I see… Why me? This seems more of a merchant's task."

"You've only been in your position for a day, and you're already being insubordinate?"

"You know that's not what I'm doing… Please, I only just woke up. Can we keep things simpler than usual?"

"Tsch. You're what, eighteen? And here you are acting older than Jikouji… Well, fine. If you want simplicity, I'll deliver. Whilst you're in Toyokawa, you're going to be recruiting. You can take 5 gold coins from the amount you get to recruit men for yourself. And then I want you to recruit some men to serve directly under me."

He nodded slowly, processing the information.

"How many do you want?"

"I want to reform the strength of our original unit, so about 80 men."

"80… That's a decent amount…"

He mused, stroking his chin.

"How long will it take for us to ride to X?"

"Half a day, perhaps less if you ride fast."

He grinned at that, having a sudden flash of inspiration.

"What's that look for?"

The master asked, a little put off by the sadistic edge to his smile.

"You'll see."

"Right… Well, I'll leave you to it."

He turned to the door to leave, before whirling back around and slapping his forehead as though he had forgotten something obvious.

"Best not leave that in the middle of the room, eh?"

He took it up in his hands and began up the stairs, deciding that it would be much safer to leave their quarry behind closed doors. He passed the first, thinking that the second looked to be the most inconspicuous.

"Ah wait-"

Gengyo realized where he was headed, and felt a sudden chill down his spine as the master's hand stretched out and pulled open the door revealing a sleeping Akiko.

He sighed, preparing himself mentally for the tribulations ahead.

"What's up with you, kid?"

"Eh?"

Nakatane was looking down on him from atop the landing, his eyebrows raised.

In disbelief, he clambered up the stairs after Nakatane, looking inside the small room. It was completely empty, aside from a perfectly made futon in the middle of the room.

"Ah… I mean, it'll do I suppose…"

'She must have gone before I woke up.'

He thought, greatly relieved by Akiko's quick thinking. Had she been revealed, fast asleep, they certainly would have had some explaining to do.

"Of course it will."

He gently put the sack down in the corner, taking care not to break any of the pieces inside, and with that, he took his leave.

"I'll be expecting good news."

"I'll do my best."

…

…

Around an hour later, the Special Forces unit were gathered outside of Gengyo's house, having been rounded up by Masaatsu and Togashi. They exchanged conversation fervently, evidently excited for the task ahead. They assumed it would be training, but they relished the thought, for it would be their first training session as a new unit.

"The master Niwa has delivered us our first mission."

He announced.

That only served to increase their excitement.

"Already? Hell yeah! We finally get to go and kick some ass again!"

Rokkaku pumped his fists enthusiastically, getting ready for the fight ahead.

"Ah, I'm afraid it won't be that kind of mission – unless things go very wrong."

"What d'ya mean boss?"

One of the guards asked, confused.

"We're going to Toyokawa for recruitment purposes."

"Toyokawa? Really? I've always wanted to go there. Apparently there are more people than our village, and Tobishima combined."

Kitajo said, elated.

"Even more than that lad, but it's a good distance away. How are we getting there?"

Niiro spoke, asking the sensible questions.

"We're going to walk."

Gengyo said emotionlessly.

"…"

It took them a few moments for them to process just what had been said, before there were a few outraged cries.

"WALK? BOSS, WE'LL DIE. IT'S WAY TOO FAR."

A guard fell to his knees just contemplating the thought.

"Oh, don't worry too much. We'll run too."

He said, struggling to hide his smile as he watched the anguish spread amongst them.

"It'll be fine. We need to build our endurance if we're going to have any success as a unit. This is a good start."

The groans still came as he spoke those words, but they were less dramatic, as they started to see the bigger picture.

"Whoever arrives there first will get a ride on the way back. Their mount will be whoever came in last place."

Faces went white as they contemplated the cruelty of that statement. Whoever came in last place would be without a doubt the weakest runner, and with an extra burden on their back they would be lucky if they made it home at all.

"Do you a feel a bit more motivated now? Good. Go and collect a sword each from the armoury, we will begin our run as soon as you get back."

Gengyo was as good as his word. The moment everyone had arrived back – now armed with a sheathed sword in their hand – he began to jog forwards. Those with any sense followed immediately, making sure not to fall to the back straight away.

The directions Nakatane had given him for getting to Toyokawa were simple – follow the road north, and then follow the road north some more. If you think you are lost, and have gone the wrong way, just keep following that road, and you will soon end up at your destination.

The march was arduous. When they were running, they wished they were walking, and when they were walking, they wished they were running. Their calves ached, their shins did too. Their feet had gone numb hours ago, and blisters quickly began to form.

The distance – in our units – would be roughly 30 miles. Gengyo acted as the pacemaker, but he quickly became aware that he was not amongst the fittest of the men. His body began to lag, and his breathing was laboured, but he pushed himself on despite the pain. As the leader, he had to set a good example.

Kitajo seemed to find it easiest, as he stuck nearest the front, not slowing to join the rest. Whereas Togashi likely found it the hardest. He had been chained up for months, and his body had deteriorated. It was likely too harsh a first test for the man, but Gengyo could not afford to take things slow with the battle so near. He had to push their limits mentally and physically so that they could make the most progress in the shortest time possible.

To the skinny man's credit, though he was likely in the worst shape, he did not complain a single time, and instead wore a fierce look of determination as he ran beside the larger Rokkaku who was sweating furiously.

The hard stones of the road quickly began to bruise their feet, so they moved to the softer surrounding grass. But with that there was the danger of rabbit holes, so they had to keep their guard up at all times, lest they fall over and lose their position, falling behind the rest.

Morohira carried the sack of goods, but still kept up near the front. His physical condition was so good that it was almost intolerable for the rest, as they watched him run with a smug smile, heaving the heavy sack, making sure they saw him do it. He had certainly not offered to carry it out of good will. He merely liked the idea of hefting such riches, but also the prospect of gloating when their march came to an end.

With the coming of afternoon, and the vicious beatings of the boiling sun, they neared their destination, spotting the vast expanse of houses upon the horizon.

"Wow… It's huge."

Kitajo breathed. He had never seen so many houses in his life. With its port came great amounts of trade, and even greater amounts of people. It made sense for them to want to settle closer to their place of work.

"Indeed, look past it, and you will see the ocean. Welcome to Toyokawa, men."

Chapter 68: Toyokawa

The arrival of one surrounded by so many armed men was enough to draw a few curious glances.

'Looks like a bigshot has arrived.'

Was the general thought as merchants eyes drifted back toward their customers, pretending they had never looked away at all. The central road was lined with stalls, each boasting a variety of different goods.

A good deal of the wares were imported, as Gengyo managed to spy a few mirrors and other such European glassworks.

The road was absolutely packed with people, and the only way to pass through was to barge past the mass in front of them. There were a few shouts of complaint, but as soon as they turned around to see the scale of the young man's entourage, they soon held their tongues and made way.

He held no interest for these small scale stores. He needed a larger shop, one that was perhaps a permanent feature, as that would demonstrate a degree of integrity on the store-owners part, as they had managed to survive for a time without offending anyone too powerful.

The men marvelled at the taste of the sea air, and could not get enough of it. They opened their mouths wide, allowing it to fill their lungs, remarking how fresh it felt.

They passed down the main road and neared the port where many men were at work unloading supplies from a large European trading vessel. Its huge three masts towered over all the surrounding Japanese ships, evidence of its ability to handle the mighty ocean, and travel halfway around the world.

Judging by the language they were speaking, Gengyo thought them to be Portuguese, and eyed the crates they were unloading with interest. He had an idea what might be inside, only he knew he certainly lacked the coin to afford it.

A little disappointed by that – though not too put off, as Nakatane had promised him a good amount should his business with Tobishima prove successful – he made his way along the port area, careful to stay out of the way of any of the men hard at work.

His soldiers eyed the white-skinned Europeans with interest. They were a good deal taller than they were, and their shoulders broader – though Rokkaku still stood a similar size.

Their appearance lead to numerous conversations – ones that Gengyo did not weigh in on – as he allowed the experienced Niiro to explain who they were to the rest of the men.

Just as he was about to pass it, a stall out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. The table was littered with all manners of finery, and even some of the Portuguese men had gathered round to inspect the wares. There was jewellery of all kinds, and of course such items would be hot topic, so there were 5 men standing guard as their master did business.

He smiled, before calling Morohira over and reaching into the large sack, pulling out one of the rubies. He approached the stall, making certain that the sack remained out of sight – the merchant would hold the advantage in their bargaining if he realized he had much more that he needed to sell.

"Hello."

He approached the stall, and leaned lightly upon the table. The merchant regarded him lightly with a nod, before resuming a rather broken conversation with a Portuguese man who was haggling for a gold banded necklace, from which dangled a series of jewels. He held up a roll of silk, demonstrating how soft it was by rubbing it upon his face.

The merchant shook his head, holding up his fingers to symbolise the number of silken rolls required: 2.

The Portuguese man grew red in the face at such boldness, and would have caused more of a scene had he not seen the aggressive stares of the guards bearing down on him. Instead, he simply spat on the floor and walked away.

"Tsch. A barbaric people."

The merchant muttered under his breath, before regaining his face of friendliness, and turning to Gengyo.

"Yes, young man? What is it that you would like to buy?"

"Ah. I was rather hoping that you would be doing the buying."

"Hoh…"

The man's interest was captured as he looked toward Gengyo with expectation in his eyes.

Slowly and deliberately, he removed the fist plum-sized rugby from the sleeve of his arm. Greed instantly lit up the merchants eyes, as he immediately offered his price.

"5 gold coins!"

He said, a little too breathlessly. The young man shook his head with a light smile, as though amused by such jokes. In truth, he had no idea about the fair selling price of such an item, but he knew that he would not be offered it. At least not straight away.

"Come now, let us not joke. We're both men of business, yes? Let us be fair, and honest with one another. We know – yes we do – that this ruby is worth at least 10 times that amount."

Those who overheard what he said went white, discussing such a sum of money.

"50 gold coins…"

He heard a man behind him breathe.

The merchant grew nervous, and his hands started to shake as he thought about dealing his pursue such a blow. But he quickly collected himself. He was experienced after all. A deep breath was all that he needed.

"…Do not play me for a fool, child, please name a sensible price."

"Oh, but that price is sensible. Of course, you will not be selling it as a lump of ruby. You'll process it, adding it to other bits of jewellery, and you're looking at a selling price far above 50 gold. Now – return your request. Offer me a sensible price, or my business goes else well."

He turned on his heel to show that he was serious.

"Wait! Young man! Wait!"

The merchant called out urgently, his face slick with sweat. Gengyo turned around, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes?"

"40…"

"Pardon?"

"40 GOLD COINS!"

He shouted, laughing maniacally as though he had finally broken. Such an amount of money to be spent so quickly was madness… and yet the young man was right. The value of the rugby was far beyond being simply a ball of solid mineral.

Gengyo quickly stretched his hand out with a smile.

"We have a deal."

As far as he was concerned, any price that could get an experienced merchant so worked up was bound to be decent. And when he compared it to the prices of living that he had learned, and his first experience in the market with Rin, he felt it was rather fair.

The man took his hand, shaking enthusiastically, his palms immensely sweaty. He set upon the table 5 bags of coin, sliding it across the table, holding both his palms outward in anticipation.

He gently popped the ruby plum onto the man's hand, as he pocketed the coin pouches with another. He left satisfied, looking forward to seeing how much they might earn after selling all their wares. After all, a single ruby had sold for 40 gold coins, and he still had another, and many more other items.

His men stared at him in awe.

"Bloody 40 gold coins! We're rich! Rich I tell you!"

Morohira yelled, dancing happily, seeming to think that such an amount of money belonged to him.

"Mmm. We'll see."

Gengyo tossed one of the coin bags in the air, enjoying the weight of the metal as it landed into his hand. His father stared at the bag with hungry eyes, waiting for the next instance in which it was thrown so that he could snatch it from the air.

He laughed heartily at such a look, sharing the amusement with his brother, who also seemed to know exactly what Morohira was thinking.

"Remember fellas, Niwa will give you all a cut of what we sell this for, so be patient."

He reminded them, as he proceeded to look for the next buyer.

They wandered the streets for a good while, searching for suitable selling points. With time, the sack grew lighter, and their amount of coin grew heavier. He gradually worked out the market price for certain items, and made sure to get his fair price for each thing he sold.

By the time he had finished, they had amassed a terrifying amount of gold. Perhaps enough to buy a village outright. He had gradually become trusted enough to carry around the sack – now full of money – and he walked around cautiously, like some kind of coin goblin. But even if he was a little odd, Morohira's actions provided great amusement for the rest of the men, who were growing tired.

With the beginning of sunset, the amount of people in the streets began to lessen, and they set up a stall of their own.

With a pair of bokken laying at his feet, Gengyo watched on, letting Rokkaku advertise their business.

"Recruiting men! Recruiting men! 10 silver each! Then 1 silver a week after that! Recruiting men!"

They very soon drew the attention of the surrounding men. Most were simple peasants that lived in the nearby housing. Poor quality, and likely untrustworthy. What he sought were ronin. Someone to bolster their ranks. But of course, ronin were samurai, and deserved respect.

But not all samurai were as well off as Nakatane and Toda. Some only had their rank to cling to, and no finances to speak of. If he could attract such people, he hoped that he would be able to select the honourable, and the skilled, and filter them out from the rest.

Still, that did not mean he immediately dismissed the peasants. He treated everyone the same. But he had a rough idea of what he wanted, and subjected them all to a test.

"Good day young sir, is your offer true? 10 silver, and then 1 silver a week?"

"It is."

Gengyo nodded, laying down relaxed against the corner of a building, putting on an aloof air, trying to project the aura of a young samurai lord.

The men surrounding him only served to bolster his image. He hoped he would get a glimpse of the man's true character in seeing how he reacting when he was treated with such dismissal.

As it happened, the man's smile did not fade, and he continued to wait for Gengyo to speak.

He yawned loudly, before lazily pointing to Togashi.

"Togashi-kun. Duel this man, would you? Whoever lands the first strike wins."

He nodded toward the bokken that lay at his feet, and both men stepped forward to grab them. He had picked Togashi, judging him to be weakest, so that he might catch a glimpse of the other man's skill.

He stepped up, giving them space, before giving the command to start.

"Begin."

The two men stepped forward, each eager to land the first strike.

THWACK

With a sickening jab to the stomach, the peasant was left doubled over, reeling from the pain. They had not even caught a glimpse of the strike, all they could see was Togashi still lunged outwards, his face a mask of the utmost seriousness.

Gengyo coughed into his hand, surprised.

"Er… Togashi wins. If you can stand, then duel once more. We will do the best of 3."

The peasant man struggled to his feet, his face white. His sword no longer held any intent behind it, and in truth, he looked terrified at the prospect of facing Togashi once more.

But he did not flee, so the command to begin was given.

This time the peasant struck outwards first. It was dodged by the skinny man with ease, as he stepped to the outside of the stretched arms, and kicked toward the other man's feet, and sending him flipping to the floor after a push to his shoulder.

Chapter 69: Recruiting

'Jesus.'

Was Gengyo's only thought as looked at the peasant splayed out upon the floor. Even if the peasant was exceptionally unskilled, it would be hard to dominate the fight so completely.

'He might even be better than Jikouji…'

He pondered, reevaluating his plan.

"Alright, Niiro-san switch with Togashi. Togashi-kun, good work."

The man nodded seriously, handing the bokken to Niiro who stepped forth and assumed his stance.

"Right, if you can land a hit on Niiro, then you can join."

The peasant looked terrified at the prospect of fighting once more, and the tip of his sword quivered, but he did not flee, so his motivation proved to be substantial.

Old man Niiro was a more average fighter, but he an unyielding aggression that lent extra weight to his strikes.

The peasant man was quickly pushed back, holding his sword to protect his face, as he fled like a frightened rabbit. He sustained numerous injuries to his ribs and to his shoulders, but none were enough to make him drop the weapon.

He tried a few strikes of his own, but under the onslaught of Niiro's attacks, he was unable to land any. Eventually, he was cornered against the wall and had to yield.

Gengyo felt bad for the man, and admired his courage in carrying on fighting despite the fear he felt. But he did not have enough skill to join their ranks. Not for the money they were offering.

He gently informed him that he wasn't what they were looking for, and proceeded to test the next person.

A small crowd of people had begun to gather, so they needed not to wait. Another peasant man stepped forward, wearing a straw hat. He was broad in the shoulders, and his gait was that of a confident man.

He nodded briefly towards who he assumed to be the young master, before collecting the bokken that was offered to him.

"Niiro-san, take a break. Kitajo-kun, you're up."

"Eh!?"

The boy gasped in surprise, pointing to himself to make sure that he had not misheard.

"Correct, you."

He could not believe that he was the one to have been picked. He was an immensely frail boy, and go up against such a burly opponent… Well, it was unlikely he'd be able to counter a single strike.

But his leader had a degree more confidence in him than he did in himself. He was aware of the changes the boy had gone through, and wished to cultivate him further.

The two men gripped their bokken firmly, and after a word from Gengyo, the fight began.

The larger man regarded his opponent lightly, underestimating him, but not lessening his attacks. In fact, he dove in stronger, and more aggressively, keen to make a good impression.

Putting his whole weight behind the strike he swung his sword toward Kitajo's midsection. An undodgeable blow, given the speed it was moving at.

The boy's instincts forced him to raise his elbows high, holding the sword downwards, interrupting the ferocious charge of the other wooden blade.

THWACK

The crushing sound of wood on wood reverberated throughout the port, as the spectators watched on, startled.

Not only had he blocked the strike, but he had not given an inch of ground in the process. Those frail skinny arms managed to generate enough force to block such a powerful blow.

The burly peasant's eyebrows twitched in shock. He had put everything he had into that single strike, and it had been dealt with so easily. It angered him, as though the boy was calling the strength that he was so proud of useless.

He pushed forward, sending a flurry of strikes toward the young man, who dealt with them calmly, completely different from his normally nervous disposition.

The men of the Special Forces unit roared with approval watching their youngest member fight so fiercely. It brought pride just seeing him last this long.

Even though, in the end, a strike had managed to sneak past his guard, losing him the fight, not a single person could criticise his performance.

"Well fought, Kitajo-kun. Well fought indeed."

Gengyo praised genuinely, patting him on the shoulder. It felt odd, for he shared the pride that the rest of the men felt in seeing him perform so brilliantly. It was a feeling he was unused to, and one he wished to experience more of.

"Well, the rules are rules. Welcome to the Niwa Special Forces unit."

He said, speaking to the big man as he reached into his sleeve and presented him with 10 silver coins.

"Hah…hah… Thanks…"

The man said, removing his straw hat from his head as he crouched to his knees and panted loudly. His forehead was slick was sweat. It had clearly not been an easy victory. In comparison, Kitajo looked like he'd only gone on a short walk, for he was not out of breath, and was barely sweating.

With that, the Special Forces unit recruited their first member. The crowd grew even more excited when they saw that the reward for joining had not been a lie, as more and more people came, wishing to fight for such excellent pay.

It must be understood that this was far above a peasant's normal wage. At most, you would be receiving 50 coppers a year, and here they were on 1 silver a week. It was no wonder they drew a crowd.

Due to this, Gengyo was able to be more selective, and sent out better fighters, with harsher winning conditions. His test for the men that he recruited and the men that he recruited on Niwa's behalf were the same. The only difference was that he chose the men he liked most for his own unit.

The men were told on the spot which unit they would belong to, and so they were able to familiarise themselves with the people that they would be working alongside in future as they watched the rest of the fights.

There were some pretty gruesome displays, as unskilled fighters took to the ring fighting against the likes of Morohira. Needless to say, the conclusions to those fights were not pretty, and they were lucky if they could retain their consciousness.

These fights continued well on into the evening, and by the time the recruitment process had finished, the sky was completely black. Had it not been for the torches that lined the streets, then business would have been impossible to conduct.

Patrolling guards regarded the mass of men anxiously. Their group numbers of around 5 would have absolutely no chance of dealing with such an amount of people. And each of those people sat and obediently listened to the orders of one man.

"Once more I would like to welcome you all to Niwa Nakatane's army. My name is Miura Tadakata, and I am in charge of the Special Forces unit. As promised, you have all received your ten silver for passing the test, and as promised, you will receive your 1 silver per week."

He allowed his words to soak in before speaking once more.

"Niwa Nakatane is the samurai landholder of a village called Toyone. This village is located 30 miles south from here."

He saw a few people flinch at the distance, dreading walking it in the morning.

"We leave tonight."

Their expectations were instantly crushed, and looks of outright worry spread across their faces. They would have complained, had they not seen the steeled expressions of the Special Force's veterans who look as though this had been expected all along.

Now that new members had been recruited, those that had served alongside Gengyo felt their positions increase slightly, as others looked to them for guidance. It was a role they performed admirably, keeping the rest in line – at least for now.

For even if they were being paid a fair wage, the men before him were essentially contracted workers. They could not be relied upon for absolute loyalty. He planned to instil discipline within his own unit through training, and use that to influence Nakatane's unit, and dissuade insubordinate behaviours and cowardice.

"Go and tell your families. Tell your friends. But you must return within 15 minutes."

It was a gamble saying such a thing. The men held 10 silver coins within their palms. Coins that they essentially had earned by doing nothing. Allowing them to leave now gave them the option not to return.

He knew this as he said it. That's why he wore a smile. A smile that forecast that he knew. And as his eyes drifted across the men, a few shifted uncomfortably, feeling as though their thoughts had been revealed.

"Go."

With that word, those that had family to see left. The rest waited patiently, dreading the distance they had to cover.

If not for the new members, Morohira and the rest of would have been complaining too. But there was one thing that caused a sigh of relief amongst them.

"By the way, the punishment was a joke. You don't really have to carry the winner on your back, Togashi."

Even though they were not the ones doing the carrying, none of them wanted to see the man suffer. Through his polite mannerisms, he had made a good impression. Through his excellent sword skills, he had made an even better one.

15 minutes passed, and the majority of the people had returned. A few arrived a couple of minutes late.

"There are three people who have not returned. Does anyone know who they are?"

A few hands shot up in the air, as people were eager to call out those more cowardly than they.

"Aye! I do!"

"Good. Whoever finds those men, will receive their silver. Do not worry about harming them in the process."

He spoke casually, as though such a thing had been a predetermined process.

They were only too eager to fetch the swindlers, and a group of 15 men instantly dispatched, sprinting so that they might claim the silver first.

The rest studied the young man in front of them carefully, pleased that they had not made such a mistake. There was a ruthlessness in his smile earlier. Only those foolish enough to look past that had attempted to flee with the coin in hand.

His own men were surprised by his actions. He'd always been a rather lenient man, at least with them. But none could fault his decision. It would set a good example to the new recruits: cheating will not be tolerated.

The first man was dragged to the square by a pair of brothers. He kicked and screamed his apologies, his right eye swollen. He was flung down at Gengyo's feet, sobbing.

Gengyo barely looked at him, instead, he nodded toward the two young men with approval.

"Good. Split his coin amongst yourselves."

They wretched the coin back from his palm, sending a kick to his stomach to stop his resistance.

'A rather cruel pair of siblings.'

He remarked to himself. The only order he gave was for the man to be captured – the injuries they had inflicted themselves. He did not scold them for their actions, he merely recorded the occurrence in his mind, so that he might better understand and predict their character.

"Very good. You may go now."

He said, referring to the man on the floor.

He stared up at him, wide-eyed, thinking it was some kind of trap, but desperately hoping it wasn't as he climbed to his feet in haste, and ran like a frightened rabbit as fast as his legs could carry him, crying all the while.

The other cheaters were dealt with in the same way. A stern punishment, but not excessively cruel. A man who could be reasoned with, but one that must certainly not be taken advantage of. And so the new recruits began to better understand their leader.

Chapter 70: The Days Before Battle

The march back home was gruesome. He did not push them quite as hard as he had on the way there, but the accumulated exhaustions of the day meant that all the men found it to be rather difficult.

When they finally arrived in Toyone, it was only a few hours before dawn, so most of them had trouble keeping their eyes open. Gengyo jogged on ahead, and could not find evidence of any housing facilities for them to stay. But the men were so tired as to not be fussy, and the night had remained dry, so many of them were happy to sleep where they lay.

And so, with their last of their energy, they helped to construct a large bonfire, and with that roaring mightily, they gathered around and took some well deserved hours sleep. Of their own accord, the Special Forces veterans stayed and slept outside as well, which helped to keep things in order.

Their leader caught a couple of hours sleep himself, but with the breaking of dawn, he went in search of Jikouji.

The elderly man was where he always could be found at the beginning of the day – inside the dojo practising his swordsmanship. He entered quietly, and waited until he had the old man's attention.

"Grab a sword lad."

He did as he was instructed, though as he picked it up, he was a degree more cautious than he had been the last time, and so he was able to casually sidestep the downward stroke that had been aimed at the back of his head.

"Not bad – you're learning."

He said with a degree of approval as he lunged forward, his stance widening, and his sword closing the distance at a terrifying speed. Gengyo hooked under the blade with his own, redirecting it off to the side, as he attempted to imitate Togashi by stepping around the blade and dealing with the other swordsman's feet.

His plan worked, as with his widened stance, Jikouji was not as well balanced. His lead leg kicked out from under him, forcing it forward, so that he landed in the splits. With that Gengyo judged the fight to be his victory, and aimed to lightly jab the old man in his torso, so that he could claim it more officially.

SMACK

But with a powerful swing of his sword, Jikouji sent his blade clattering across the room. In compromising his opponent's stance, he had let his own guard down, seeing victory too early. As it happens, the old man was far more comfortable in the splits than he had supposed, and was easily able to counter his strike.

He smiled self deprecatingly, understanding his error.

Jikouji rose out from the splits.

"You've improved. But it's still not enough. A fight is not over until one person is dead, or in this case, until one of us has landed the blow. Do not get ahead of yourself."

"Aye."

Wiping the sweat from his bare chest on a towel, he asked the more important question.

"So, what is it that I can help you with?"

Gengyo smiled. It was obvious he had come here with a different purpose in mind than swordsmanship.

"There are currently over a hundred men asleep on the ground outside. They're fine now, but I imagine things will grow a little more complicated if they begin to get hungry."

"Hoh… so that's it."

He nodded as though he was remembering something.

"You're quite speedy, I must say. We had not expected you back for another day at least."

"Mmm… But it was wise of you to let me know. I had not included them when drawing up the meals list for today. Any later than now, and they would have gone hungry. In regards to housing and the like… there's some space left in the guards' barracks for about 40 men. For the rest we were planning on tents, and then we'll look into more permanent buildings after our war with the Oda."

"Alright, I'll leave it to you then."

He bowed slightly and made his way to the door, closing it quietly behind him.

And so the new men began to settle in. Large tents were pitched for them, and their meals were scheduled. The only duty they had to attend to during the day was training – it was an ideal life.

The funeral ceremony played out with Tobishima as planned, and relations with the village people were improved as Nakatane lead the service. The work to be done in the fields was all planned out, and very soon farming had begun once more in both Toyone and their new village ally.

The women that had been left inside Toda's castle came out a few days later of their own accord, after the drugs had worn off. Two had been captured from Tobishima a few years back, and their own family had believed them dead. The reunions were heartwarming. The others had not come from Tobishima. Their own homes were far away, as they had been slaves for many years. It was an easy choice for them to make – they would rather work in the fields and live amongst true love and companionship than attempt to do otherwise and return to the life of slavery.

But there was one woman that people did not catch sight of, no matter whom you asked. Not even the 5 young slave girls knew where she had gone. That woman was, of course, Isabella.

But such small curiosities were far from people's minds – especially Nakatane's. He had been more than happy with the amount of coin the young man brought back, and the number of troops as well. It was lucky he had acted so quickly, as two days after the funeral of Tobishima, an emissary arrived, mounted on a white horse.

"Summons from his lord Imagawa-sama, Daimyo of Mikawa."

Was all he had said, speaking to Nakatane casually as he handed him a tightly bound and sealed scroll. He did not take offence at his tone that was almost condescending – he had much bigger things on his mind, and as the mounted man rode away, he had already begun reading the letter of summons.

It had stated that three days hence, they were to gather at Washizu in preparation for their invasion of the Oda occupied land of Owari. It was nothing that they did not know, aside from the length of time that they had, which inspired a degree of urgency within him.

Jikouji had been taking care of the training of his troops for the past couple of days, and he had no doubt that their progress would be substantial. A yumi ashigaru unit had been drafted, using the testing procedure that Gengyo had defined before. But the young man was not there to lead it this time, instead, he was off elsewhere.

In fact, Nakatane did not even know where he was. He did not know what his training entailed. Nor did he ask it of the young man, nor did the young man speak about it. He could only hope – though he felt a degree of anxiety – that they were fit enough to do battle.

With the coin that he received for the successful completion of their tempering of Tobishima, Gengyo had bought a substantial amount of equipment. He'd managed to source it rather cheaply, but the quality of it was remarkable. Nakatane caught sight of a shipment of bows – each of which he was barely able to pull back, for their draw weight was so heavy.

There had been armour too – great crates full of it. He had not inspected those too thoroughly, but he assumed that it must have been something a degree better than the norm, for he had been willing to supply Gengyo's men the standard guard grade armour himself.

Steel tipped long yari and crates full of finely crafted katana were brought in too, all on the back of ox-drawn wagons, laden with the goods.

He and Jikouji had watched them unloading with wonder.

"You would think he's drafting an entire army…"

Jikouji had muttered. Nakatane was of the same opinion. Such a variety of weapons was unusual, especially in those quantities, and certainly more so because they were ordered by the leader of a mere 50 men.

…

…

"It will be our final training session tomorrow, Togashi-kun."

Gengyo remarked, as they shared their evening meal on the small table in the reception room.

"Do you think we are ready?"

The man asked. He had been filling out a good deal over the last few days, as his body remembered the size it was accustomed to. With his long hair and beard, he was gradually growing into a rather fearsome sight.

"I wonder. We're certainly not where I would like us to be… But I will do some final tests tomorrow, and we'll see what happens."

He said, spooning some rice into his mouth as he chewed in thought.

"Will we be sparring again tonight, Miura-san?"

For the last few nights, Gengyo had dedicated a few hours to training in his weaponry. He spent around an hour sparring with Togashi with both the sword and spear, whilst he spent the rest of the time contemplating and evaluating his own styles in both martial artforms.

"Yes, I would like to."

"Very good. You've been improving quickly."

There was, of course, one reason why he had chosen Togashi as a sparring partner – the man's skill with the sword was terrifying. Even with the spear it would be difficult to find his match. And above all – unlike Jikouji – he had been more than willing to help him train, as it also benefitted himself. With all the time spent in Toda's dungeon, he felt his skills had gone rusty.

With each bit of his old skill that he gained back, Gengyo improved to match it. That is why those words he had just spoken were not empty in the least. He truly thought that the young man's rate of improvement was impressive.

More than that though, he admired his dedication. As he went about his own business in the evenings, he caught sight of his new boss drenched in sweat, repeating the same strike for the thousandth time. Othertimes he caught him leaning on his spear, his eyes glazed over, deep in thought. At times he did not see him move even for 30 minutes.

He did not rest even late into the night, reading his strategical strolls by the candlelight, after he had finished conversing with the young lady who often came to visit.

He felt rather baffled at such discipline, especially in one so young. It caused him to reflect on what had been said to those days before.

"I'm a peasant too."

'Could he really be?'

He thought to himself. In the face of such dedication and aptitude for improvement, even a samurai would have to bow low. Togashi himself almost wished to bow low. The mental fortitude was uncanny, and it rubbed off on himself, so that even when he wished to be resting, he found that he could not. Instead, he would take a step outside, and hone his swordsmanship even further.

He knew he was not the only one who admired their young leader. The other men – the veteran's of the unit – looked toward him with a great amount of respect, and comradery. It was of such a degree that he himself could not understand it. He could only assume that it was due to fighting alongside him in battle – for he had heard of the young man's feats. The newer men saw it too, and were rather nervous about it. They were unable to put a foot wrong, for they knew the older members would not forgive them.

That being said, when it came to training, he was a different man altogether. A ruthless demon that sought only progress. And progress was what he got. No matter how hard he had to push them, he would always force them to progress.

…

…

And so the last training session commenced.

Chapter 71: The Final Training Session

They had set up their training camp a mile and a half outside of village. In it was virtually everything they needed. There were ten static archery targets, ten oscillating archery targets, and rows of straw dummies for practice in hand to hand combat.

Lines were drawn indicating the various shooting ranges.

"FIRE!"

He called out, and twenty men released their arrows, and twenty arrows punctured their targets on both the oscillating ones and the static ones. The range was 75 paces, and such accuracy could be judged to be good. But that was far from the case for their commander.

The rest of the men cycled through their shots, only one man missing at that range. And then they moved to the 150-pace range. Even for Gengyo, at first, this had proved to be challenging.

"FIRE!"

But now, as the arrows landed, there were very few that missed. After each man took his shot, the accuracy could be judged to be above 90%. It was far under what he hoped for them to achieve, but in the time period they had, he judged it to be passable.

"TRANSITION TO PIKE FORMATION!"

He barked, as they stood in a flat line, each holding their bows, with their long yari at their feet.

"YAH!"

They let out a collective cry as they uniformly cast aside their bows, and assumed a ready position with their long yari in hands.

He nodded with approval. A mere few days prior, such an order had caused chaos, with each man out of step with the other. Now was a great improvement, and it was far faster. With the placement of their yari at their feet during bow formation, they were able to switch between the two weapons fluidly, and with precision.

It was an idea that he had gleaned from reading one of the old scrolls that Nakatane had delivered to him, but he had developed it further. A truly adaptive unit that could tackle any opponent. With their accuracy, they would crush the enemy from a distance, and with their strength, they would tear him apart should he come closer.

"YARI WALL!"

He called to them to assume a defensive position, in which their pikes extended outwards, ready to crush any cavalry or foot units that would dare to charge toward their sharpened steel points. It was simple, but effective.

"YAH!"

They readied themselves within a fraction of a second, calling out boldly as they did so. Their faces were firm, and their stances were tense. Their feet were locked solidly into the floor. It would be difficult to move them.

'Good.'

He thought as he evaluated them. But this was the bare minimum he expected.

"BREAK THE ENEMY LINE!"

He cast his arm downwards, signalling for them to charge, and with a roar, they began forwards at a good speed. Their pace was not terrifying fast, but it could not be. What mattered was that they ran in time with one another, so they hit the enemy line as one.

They did as was expected of them, holding their heavy yari straight and with stability as they ran forward. The army of straw dummies were obliterated, each receiving a spear through their chest.

Once they broke the line with their spears, they cast them aside and drew their swords. It was as they were trained to do, and they executed it perfectly. He could not fault them in the least. Most soldiers would hold onto their yari, even when at close range. But such weapons were unwieldy, and only good until the gap had been breached. Once they were at close range, a sword unit would tear a yari unit to pieces.

The straw soldiers were left ravaged, with pieces lying everywhere as the men merciless cut apart their straw bodies.

Gengyo clapped loudly.

"Very good."

The men were of the same opinion.

"YEAH!!! WE DID IT!"

Rokkaku roared, immensely satisfied. It was a procedure that they had spent many days perfecting, and each time at the end their leader would shake his head and speak the dreaded words: "not good enough." They were words that built up a good deal of frustration, and now, on this final day, they had finally mastered the tactics that he had masterminded.

In their completed form, each man was well aware of the strength. The fluidity of their changes was terrifying, and their arsenal was at least three times larger than that of another unit. They had many more cards to play, and they were able to play them effectively.

Another commander might look upon Gengyo's ill-treatment of the weapons with distaste, saying that they should not be treated so harshly, or cast aside at all, for they were worth a good amount of coin. But it was not a sentiment the young man shared. The value was in the man himself. Once the battle began, it did not matter where his weapons were broken or ruined by the end, all that mattered was victory.

But there was a reason why there were not more units like their Special Forces unit – ones that were able to fight with three different weapons depending on what situation they were presented with. And that reason was simple: the burden of carrying such equipment was too immense.

That was why the pikes were left at their feet, and the bows were cast away once they switched to another weapon. It was too impractical to do anything else.

"Alright fellas, prepare for the final test."

A collective groan went around as they knew what was up ahead. Each man collected his yari, and they collected their bows. They also each fetched a tunic that was weighed down to simulate the approximate weight of their armour.

All in all, it was a rather heavy affair, especially when you were facing the distance that they were.

There was no need for any words or introductions, and once everyone had their equipment on – Gengyo included – he lead them at a run away from their camp.

They ran through the forest, and up over many hills along the forested path, holding their bow in one hand, and their pike in the other. It was an acquired skill holding the spear point so that it did not bounce off the ground, but one that they had learned quickly.

This training run had been done by them every day, and every day the distance was the same: 9 miles. It was the most important attribute of their unit that everything else hinged upon: endurance.

On the first day, they had run the distance with a series of breaks, 3 in total. It would have been too much to ask them to run the entire thing straight away.

It must be understood that this run was different from the 30 mile march that they had endured in coming home. In that march, it was a mixture of both running and walking, allowing the different muscles required for each to relax as they performed the other. And also, during that, they had not been carrying such a weight.

Today was the first day where they had faced the 9 mile run without the prospect of a single break, and each man began it with a deal of apprehension, unsure as to whether they truly would be able to run it.

Even Gengyo feared it a little. He knew that this kind of progress was truly pushing the limits of what was physically possible, but he had a firm belief that in completing it, that their growth would be all the better. He wanted to give his new unit the best foundation possible for the upcoming battles.

They completed the first three miles without too much of a sweat, surprising themselves. On the first day – each of them remembered – that they had almost collapsed, but it seemed their body was gradually growing conditioned.

Around the fifth mile, the pain started to set in, and they began to doubt themselves further, wondering whether they should not just stop now, and then try to catch up later?

But not a single man did, and they all pushed through until the eighth mile. They were barely standing at this point, and their breathing was laboured. It took a great deal of mental strength to simply take the next step. Their bodies screamed at them to stop. But not a single man wished to be the first to quit. They didn't want to be the ones to hold their unit back.

Neither did Gengyo. The thought of quitting did not even cross his mind. The only thing he was concerned with was finishing, and how long it might take for that to happen.

They exited the trees, and each of them knew this to be the last half a mile. Their minds felt a deal refreshed as they forced themselves to run the last small amount. Their digestive systems even started to grow angry at them at this point, claiming there was no more energy to be found. It was not a few men that felt their bowels growing loose, wondering whether they might end up covered in their own faeces.

But they managed it. Every single one of them. Gengyo could barely remain standing as he finished first, but he forced himself to, so that he could congratulate all those that came after him.

Kitajo was a fast second. He could have easily taken the lead, but he knew that it was important to allow Gengyo to remain in front.

His leader congratulated him with a solid pat on his shoulder, as he did with the rest of them.

They collapsed to the floor in disbelief, so glad that it was over. But more than that, they each felt great pride, for they had not given up. What they had deemed impossible a few days ago, had now been made possible, and it was all thanks to the harsh leadership of that young boy in front of them.

Grins went round as they truly began to feel the progress. It was phenomenal. Immense. The new recruits began to get a taste for why Gengyo was so revered by those that had fought alongside him. He pushed his men to accomplish the impossible, and that they did.

The afternoon, as always, was spent sparring. It was the part they had learned to look forward to. In the past, it was simply another part of training, but with the harshness of the morning routines, they felt as though it was a reward, and some even went home to study the sword more, so that they could best their partners.

Because of this training, not a single one of them felt apprehensive about the battle ahead. Not only did they not feel apprehensive – they felt excited. For what other men could have undergone training harsher than theirs? What army could deal with their advanced tactics?

They had joined for the coin, but now they had something more to work toward, a different meaning, and they imagined that meaning would be found upon the battlefield, just as the veteran's before them had found it

And so the Special Forces unit concluded it's final training session before the Imagawa invasion of Owari.

Chapter 72: The March

They were awoken early - a little before dawn. The march to Washizu was a long one, but travelling great distances was not something they were unused to and so none of the Special Forces unit complained.

He had spent the previous evening saying his farewells to Akiko, and to Rin, and to his mother – who had awoken a few days prior. Their parting was not as sad as it might have been, for each of them held a degree of faith in the young man.

As a retainer, Gengyo was allowed to ride. He did so just behind the carts drawn by the oxen which held their supplies. He shared idle conversation with the men as they watched the sun come up, and stifled yawns. They were in good spirits, and were eager to do battle.

It was an interesting contrast from the main unit, who were made up of the guards and peasants who had survived the battle with the mercenaries, and all the new members that had joined them. The veteran men did not look too out of sorts, but the new members beside them were quiet. Far too quiet. Inside their chests burned the first embers of a smoky fear that would threaten to suffocate them.

He took note of their behaviour, as did Nakatane, both thinking the same thought.

'They must be blooded, and quickly.'

If they did not receive any combat experience before one of the larger battles that were bound to happen, then they would simply flee, the stresses would be far too much for them.

Nakatane dropped back to trot alongside him.

"Still hold the same opinion about our war with the Oda?"

He asked, recalling the boy's less than optimistic response when they had first met.

"Mm... I have faith in my men."

He said carefully, not willing to say anything otherwise. They were about to serve under a man who – historically speaking – had lost a battle in which he held the absolute advantage. He had 25,000 men, and was beaten by a mere 2500. He did not hold much faith in the man's leadership.

But for now, he was calm, and would go along with the flow of history.

"What a boring answer. I, myself, am looking forward to it. It will be nice to go on the warpath without having to worry about defending ourselves."

"It will certainly make a change. And this time the odds are not stacked so highly against us."

He had other thoughts on his mind, however. He knew Imagawa's true ambition as he set out on this march. His target was the capital: Kyoto. With his 25,000 men, he planned to plough through all the provinces that stood in his way.

Oh, how he would have lamented if he had been told he would fail at the very first hurdle, and to a mere 2500 men.

Their forces had been divided up into two armies, roughly equal in size. The first army, would be led by Imagawa himself, and their target was the border fortress of Washizu. Whilst the second was led by one of his retainers: Matsudaira Motoyasu.

"That's right, eh. I'm keen to see how your unit will perform. How were you training them?"

"Mainly in endurance. I do not wish for them to tire in battle."

He responded evenly, not giving too much away. He wished to surprise Nakatane, so that he might enjoy the experience more fully.

On the road they met with other samurai from other villages. They brought men either equal or superior to theirs in number. The landholder samurai from the various villages were polite enough, and came to see Nakatane to pay their respects, as he did with them in turn.

But those from larger establishments, and bigger and more well-known families were less liable to even look in their direction. They had hundreds of samurai under their command – it was a rank they cared not for.

Such people were breeds apart from the likes of Nakatane, and commanded thousands of men under them, making up the bulk of Imagawa's forces.

Gengyo paid attention to their various banners, recording the faces of their leaders, and the names that went with their crest.

It was a while on the road before they finally caught sight of the Imagawa himself. Or at least, of his camp. The Daimyo seemed to be resting his feet inside the huge tent that had been pitched for him.

His tent was surrounded by hundreds of other smaller ones, looking more like a small town than an encampment. Soldier's sat enjoying food by a fire, trying to stay out of reach of nagging flies.

A bald emissary came to greet them, informing them that they too should construct their tents and relax. Imagawa would want to see them later in the evening.

They did as they would told, but came away feeling a little unimpressed. It was Imagawa who had called them to arms. Could he not come and greet them himself?

The tents were pitched quickly, and they sat around the fire enjoying the first meal of that day, greedily filling their empty stomachs. It had not taken them as long as they had expected to get to this point, but the reason for that seemed to lie in the fact that they were not actually at Washizu. Instead, they were camped a few miles away, at a point where the fortress was only barely visible on the horizon.

Gengyo glanced around their vast encampment.

'If they were to lead a single army – even just 2000 in number – then they would completely eradicate us… There are no defences in place. None whatsoever.'

He harboured a preconceived opinion of Imagawa, despite having not met the man, and everything thus far pointed to that opinion being justified.

He kept himself on his guard. He did not trust the man to lead them correctly. He did not want his men to suffer because of someone else's faults. Even though the siege of the first two fortresses – historically speaking – was meant to go their way… he dared not leave their fate in his hands.

He sat on a log by the fire as the men pitched the tents around them. Nakatane sat next to him, whilst Jikouji was busy organising the unloading of supplies.

"What's that brooding look for?"

He older man asked him, wondering why his Special Force's unit commander was so quiet.

Gengyo looked back at him, unsmiling, his eyes serious.

"Even though he is our Daimyo, we must take caution. I fear he does not care as much for our lives as he does his own."

Nakatane raised his eyebrows, responding casually as though such a notion was self-evident.

"Of course, lad. We just follow the orders we're given and try not to die in the process."

"I guess so... This meeting that you're going to later, what will it be like?"

"It'll just be the bigshots pretending to discuss plans, though everything is decided already. The only purpose in me going is to find out what our role in the siege will be."

He looked bored simply talking about it.

Gengyo nodded his understanding, as he shifted around to watch his men at work.

Morohira was scolding Rokkaku for not holding the tent tightly enough whilst he hammered the pegs into the ground.

Kitajo was sharing a lively conversation with one of the newer members – someone only a little older than him – as they handed down supplies from the cart.

Each of the Special Forces members were lively and animated, despite their underwhelming reception. They trusted that in the battles ahead, they would have their moment. They would be able to make everyone look their way, and wish that they had paid them more attention from the start.

From their high spirits, he himself drew strength. Even if their commanding general was incompetent, it was possible for them to perform well. He reaffirmed his resolve: this first battle would be theirs. And with that simple promise to himself, no longer did he feel the lethargy that came with anticipating incompetence. Instead, he felt fired up, as he planned numerous strategies within his head.

When Nakatane slipped away later that evening, he barely noticed him leaving, having been so caught up in idle conversation with his men, as they sat by the fire and shared a meal.

The meeting seemed to span a rather long time, and must have been even longer for the master, and when he returned he looked bored beyond belief, and immensely tired, but before he retired to get some sleep, he came over to make an announcement.

"We fight tomorrow."

He said simply, and quietly, but his words reached all their ears for they were listening intently. The Special Forces unit responded with energized cheers, excited to have their chance presented to them already. The main unit, on the other hand, looked more than a little apprehensive. Their faces were white, and some were downright terrified.

He held a hand up for quiet, and there was soon silence once more.

"It's said that Washizu has 300 men defending it, so Imagawa is sending 1000 men to attack it – we're part of that number. The attackers seem to be mainly composed of us smaller units that come from villages."

Gengyo stroked his chin, processing such information. Realistically, they could send all 12000 men to attack at once, and bombard the enemy with wave after wave of arrows. But it seemed he wished to keep his main forces fresh for later battles, perhaps believing those units to be superior.

Still, he would not complain too heavily as such an opportunity was perfect for his men.

"Who will be leading?"

He asked.

"Okabe Motonobu – one of Imagawa's senior retainers."

The name was familiar to him, but he did not know much about the man, aside from what Nakatane had already mentioned. He just hoped that he would not be too restrictive in his command.

Seeing that there were no more questions to be had, their master bid them a good night, and turned toward his tent, Jikouji followed toward his own a moment later.

"Alright fellas, we better go get some sleep as well. It'll be our first battle tomorrow – don't want you falling asleep on the job."

"We're back! Back to kick some asses again! I'm reckoning that it'll only take one battle, and all of Japan will know our names!"

Rokkaku said, all but shaking with excitement. He was like a child on Christmas eve, albeit a slightly murderous child.

"One battle? You're a bit optimistic…"

Niiro commented dryly, spooning the last of his rice in his mouth before stretching slightly.

"We'll aim for it."

Gengyo proposed.

"We'll aim to be the ones to take their commander's head. It's doable."

"HOH!? REALLY? HELL YEAH!"

Rokkaku shouted, even more pumped up than before.

Morohira was grinning maniacally as well, already claiming the commander's life as his own.

Their young leader smiled at their enthusiasm, feeling rather excited himself. He'd put in a good amount of work into the preparation for these battles – he would not allow it to go to waste. With a clenched fist, and his blood on fire, he retired for the evening.

It turned out to be a mistake, as he tossed and turned his mind full of thoughts as battle, and as he heard the warhorn summoning them to awake from their slumber, he had barely slept a wink.

Chapter 73: A Different Approach

Their short march toward Washizu began at dawn, and ended rather quickly. They marched behind ten white horses, each holding a mounted rider. Gengyo guessed that the middlemost man – who wore armour of a different colour to the rest – was Okabe Motonobu. The men around him each wore green armour, whilst his was almost yellow.

In the armour department, his men's armour was not far below theirs. They marched proudly in their new garb, each of them armoured like a samurai might be – aside from their lack of a men-yoroi. Nakatane had watched them appear in the morning with great surprise. Such quality armour was expensive. Highly expensive. Yet the young lad – merely with the coin he was given – had managed to find enough to arm his entire unit.

The effect it had on their morale was tremendous. Each of them wore a full set of the blackest armour imaginable. For it to gain such a deep shade of black, it must have been left to soak in the dye for days.

It gave them an almost supernatural quality as they walked, for such a mass of black felt suspect to the eyes.

Their leader was dressed identically to they, not caring about standing out.

The peasants from other villages eyed them enviously, thinking that they were an entire unit composed of samurai. It was rare too – they thought – to see so many samurai who had dedicated themselves to the art of the bow.

For that was how they were kitted today – a bow in their hand and a sword at their waists. The yari had been left behind for it would be of no use in a siege battle.

As they drew closer, Washizu grew ever larger. It was not granted the title of 'fortress' for nothing. Within its high walls was basically a small town, alongside towering structures, with wooden foundations and white-washed walls and fabulously curved tile rooves. The tallest building stood in the centre, and was at least six stories high – an immense architectural feat.

But what bothered them now was not the wonderful architecture of the innermost buildings, it was the almost unconquerably high walls before them.

They paused only just outside of arrow range. The three hundred defenders stood ready inside, each gripping a bow, and looking down on them angrily, daring them to come even a little bit closer.

There was only a single weak point within the castle's defences. The defences offered a wall for the archers to stand behind, with only a narrow slit present for their bows. This allowed them to win almost any ranged battle. And the high walls made it almost impossible for them to be scaled without the aid of a ladder, yet whilst climbing you were the most vulnerable person on the battlefield, and the chances of you making it to the top were very slim.

This single weak point was the castles gates. If they could be burned off, using arrows laden with oil sacks and then fire arrows after them, then it would be easy enough. They would be able to take advantage of their numbers, and destroy the forces inside.

But that was when their commander spoke for the first time.

"I have a single order: capture this fortress without burning the gates, or harming the structure in any way. We will have use of it later."

No one dared to talk back, but it was a rather shocking revelation. The only other paths open to them were routes that were outright suicide. A frontal assault, or exchanging fire with the archers who held such an absolute advantage that it might be impossible to hit any of them at all.

But the day was so pleasant. The light breeze tickled the grass beneath their feet, and gently swayed the foliage above their heads. So now, as they stood on the edge of the forest, it was impossible for Gengyo to feel angered.

Even if their commander did not give care for their lives, it did not mean that they had to walk a path straight into hell.

"Each household will receive two ladders – put them to good use."

He said coldly, as his men passed amongst their ranks delivering ladders. The young man looked upon the flimsy wooden object with disgust. Getting them in range of the walls would be a task in itself, yet actually daring to climb such a poorly made device was liable to get them killed not from an arrow, but by the harsh hands of gravity.

A certain samurai landowner, who had named himself Itou, glanced in their direction pompously, retrieving his ladder as though it was a gift from the Daimyo himself.

"…Don't get beaten by that."

Nakatane whispered, placing his hopes at securing victory in Gengyo.

"I won't."

Gengyo assured him. The likes of those who dared to raise their head in arrogance because of some imagined difference between them... Those kind of men would never have enough brain power to spare to make a significant contribution to anything.

This eager man gave an order to his men, intent on securing good favour by being the first to set foot on the field of battle.

"Forwards men! Bow ashigaru, bows at the ready!"

He had his men march swiftly forward firing as they went. A few arrows hit them in return, and a couple of his men fell, but it was not enough to even make him flinch.

Feeling pressured by the man's eagerness, the other leader's urged their men forward, aiming to attack the same part of the wall as Itou. With their numbers, a concentrated attack was sure to lead to victory. There would be casualties – of course there would. But victory would be theirs in the end.

Okabe glanced at their battling lazily, shaking his head.

'This is why Imagawa refuses to take you small samurai landowners seriously.'

He thought to himself, as he glanced back to see if all the men had left.

"Oh."

He muttered under his breath, slightly surprised. He thought there was one more unit still left to leave, but he appeared to have imagined it, and with a shrug he turned back to watch the displays of battle

"Where are we heading to?"

Nakatane asked, a little breathlessly as they sprinted through the forest, intent on getting out of sight as quickly as possible.

As the rest of the men were focused on the battle to the front, Gengyo had ordered them to discretely enter the forest. The other samurai lords concentrating all their resources in one place was beneficial to them, as the defenders would respond by doing the same.

"We look for the right place to get inside."

The fortress was surrounded by a dense forest that was difficult to navigate because of its bracken, but it offered the perfect cover for their movements. The adrenaline was already pumping in the veins of those that followed behind, as they knew what they were doing to be against the protocol.

They had disposed of the ladders quickly. Such things were cumbersome when running through the trees, and likely would be of little use when they actually attempted to scale the walls.

The Special Forces unit grinned fearlessly, such a run being easy on their systems which had been tempered to deal with far harsher demands. The main unit, on the other hand, were lagging, and as breathless as their leader. But it mattered not. They did not slow their pace to accommodate.

The towering cemented walls were surrounded by a few hundred metres of grassy plains where the trees had been cut back to prevent any attackers from using them to climb over the walls.

But the walls were not completely straight, they were slightly inclined, so that climbing them was still possible, but immensely difficult.

Gengyo led the way through the forest, using his sword to hack at any branches in their way, so that the path for those behind them might be a bit easier. Very few would approve of his misuse of the weapon, fearing that it would dull the blade. But it mattered not to him.

They splashed through streams, not caring as the water soaked the tabi.

Even as they ran, an eye was always kept on the structure beside them, searching for any weaknesses, and looking for the opportune place to attack.

By now, they were a good distance away from the rest of the army, and not a single man was looking their way. Not that they could see them even if they did.

The main unit was flagging ever more, completely breathless. Moments like those made Gengyo immensely grateful that he had given endurance the attention it deserved.

Eventually, they stopped, much to the relief of the main unit. Gengyo spied a position where the rear gate was located. The walls were high – a good 15 metres. But the holes where the cement had crumbled away meant there was enough space for finger holds.

Nakatane came by his side, huffing and puffing. Jikouji was nearer to the rear, as a warning to any of those new recruits that had second thoughts and wished to try running.

"Is this it?"

He asked, a little unimpressed. If anything, the walls were higher than the point where the bulk of the army was attacking. He thought the lad was aiming for a point that was easier to scale.

"It is."

His mind was still awhirl with thoughts, so he did not elaborate further upon why he had chosen here, and instead he looked toward his men.

"Which of you has the best eyesight at a distance?"

He was looking more toward Kitajo, as something told him the boy was amongst some of the more eagle-eyed.

"I'm pretty confident about that."

A man stuck his hand in the air, a grin confident grin on his face. He was one of the newer recruits, and was around his mid twenties in age.

"Asano? Alright. Come and stand beside me, tell me how many men there are watching on that wall?"

Asano walked over confidently, squinting his eyes as he searched for any signs of life.

"Three, I'd reckon."

"Three?"

Gengyo repeated, impressed. He had not been able to see any.

"Aye. Three. They don't seem to be looking much over here though – they're more focused on the battle over there."

"Hoh…"

That was the clincher. It was good to know where the men were, and how many they were, but if they were unable to take them out, then that information was useless. They were a good 500 hundred metres away from the walls, and the forest would run out in another hundred metres, meaning they would have to cross through at least 300 metres of long grass without being seen before they even had a chance of making a killing shot.

It was a conundrum and one where each solution would still be them taking an immense risk.

There were very few men stationed on the walls. About 1 for every 2 hundred metres of wall or so - the rest had been posted to deal with the bulk of attack a few kilometres away. If they could take out the three men that had a view of their approach, then the rest of the plan would function smoothly.

"Grass…"

Gengyo muttered under his breath, staring a clump of the thick green leafy plant by his feet.

"What are you thinking lad?"

Nakatane asked, observing the expression he was wearing.

"This: we harvest some grass, and become one with the plains."

He said, a little unclearly, too caught up in his idea to explain it completely.

Chapter 74: A Cunning Plan

"Men!"

He called out, grabbing the attention his unit, and that of the main. The confidence with which he called out to them made them listen, even if they were not from his unit. And still, each of them had a degree of familiarity with this man, and knew he was not to be taken lightly.

"Grass. I want you to pick bundles of grass. Grab it as low down on the stem as you can, and put it in a pile over here."

He leant down to demonstrate what he meant, picking up a thick wad of the long grass, and placing it in a pile.

The men looked at him as though he had gone mad. They were on a battlefield. What use could a simple plant serve? Was he merely killing time whilst he thought of a plan?

But Masaatsu took a knee, and started to pick the grass as he was ordered. Kitajo followed a moment later. Very soon the whole Special Forces unit were doing as they commanded, knowing their leader to be a man of competence.

With a disbelieving glance toward each other, and after staring at Nakatane, only to be greeted by a look of ferocity that asked: "why haven't you begun moving yet?", they soon joined in.

Gengyo, joined them too, and the pile of grass quickly became rather substational.

'That's likely enough…'

He mused, conveying his thoughts to the men, who stopped and waited eagerly, keen to see what he would do with it.

He glanced amongst his men, wondering who should be chosen for the task he had. It needed to be a man of patience. Someone who was able to move slowly, and carefully, despite the pressure.

"Niiro… Kitajo… Masaatsu. Come over here, I want to try something out."

He selected them quickly. Kitajo might have been an odd choice because of that anxious nature he had, but he was quickly proving himself to be reliable, and Gengyo needed a man that would not miss his shot.

Niiro wandered over, reaching Gengyo first.

"Stay still."

He said, as he lifted the old man's arm and began inserting grass into the various joints of his armour. It was a tight fit, and the grass did not fall out. Very quickly, the old man's arm was a limb made of pure grass, and the young leader's intentions became clear.

"Brilliant… This is brilliant."

Nakatane praised, a devilish grin spreading across his face. If a soldier's entire body was covered with that grass, and he kept his head down, he would be able to make it to the wall with ease.

Even Jikouji abandoned his post by the rear to admire the handy work, shaking his head at the lads cunning.

"You see what I'm going for, then? The rest of you, come over and help Masaatsu and Kitajo get their camouflage too, and then we can get this show on the road."

His inspiration was of course taken from the modern ghillie suit used by the armed forces. And if anything, this looked even more like the real thing, as the grass they used was freshly picked, and still retained it's colour.

By the time they were finished, there were three – vaguely human shaped – grass monsters standing before them. Grass hung low down from their helmet, shielding their faces, but not impairing their vision too significantly. Their bows had been included amongst the grassy mess, as had two arrows.

Even the main unit grew a little excited looking at the final product. With this, they reasoned, it would be possible to get close to the wall without anyone even seeing.

"Good."

The young man said in approval, as he inspected the front and back to make sure there weren't any patches left showing.

"I'm guessing you already know your task, right? But I'll tell you anyway, just to make sure: Get close enough to the wall to make a killing shot on the three people Asano spied earlier. Take it slow. No need to rush. Just make sure, above everything, that you do not miss."

"Masaatsu, take the man on the left. Niiro, head for the man in the middle, and Kitajo the man on the end."

They nodded their understanding, and he motioned for them to begin. They walked quietly toward the edge of the forest, where the foliage grew less thick, before they began to crawl. There was something a little terrifying about seeing them lower themselves to the ground, becoming all but invisible.

Even though they knew what was happening, it still felt odd. It was as though their eyes and brain were out of sync.

They watched with anticipation as the green masses crawled outwards. At times it was impossible to tell where they were, but the odd bending of a grass stalk - that looked completely insiginificant, as though a mouse had trampled it, or the breeze had blown – gave them the chance to follow their progress.

They kept their cool, and did not try to rush. Even Gengyo's heart was beating fast watching them go forward anxiously. It only took a single mistake for them to give themselves away. But it was as Asano said, and the attention of the guards was focused on the battle being carried out by the main forces.

Though even if the guards had been looking straight down, they still would not have seen or felt the deadly forces that were creeping ever closer, intent on claiming their lives.

He saw one of the green masses make the distance, and rise up slightly.

"My god…"

He breathed. He had not expected it to work so effectively. Even when they were stood up in a half-crouch, it did not look unnatural in the least. The power of camouflage was terrifying, and he made a mental note not to overlook it at any point in the future.

The only time at which the guards would have been able to notice something was off, was the instant before their deaths, when the bow string was pulled back, and a solitary arrow was revealed.

But by that point, it was already too late. Three arrows left their bows simultaneously, and as quietly as a leaf falling onto the surface of a pond, three lives were taken, and three bodies slipped to the floor, completely devoid of notice.

The three men had executed their roles perfectly, bringing a thrill to battle that was more akin to a chess match. It was beautiful. A beauty he had not realized existed within war, but one he was more than glad to discover.

He smiled widely.

"Time to move onto the main event."

Time was precious, and they had to move quickly before the bodies were discovered. They had a clear running for the wall. It was an opportunity that demanded they cease it.

"Anyone who believes they are capable of climbing the wall, follow me. Niwa-san – wait for the signal!"

"What signal!?"

He called out as the young boy rushed on ahead, and did not reply. Hot on his heels was every single member of the Special Forces unit. Though the task was relatively difficult – scaling the towering castle walls with merely their hands – the adrenaline that rushed through their veins begged for them to do something, and so it was an easy choice.

They did not worry about remaining hidden, as there was no one to see them, the only thing that they had to concern themselves with was speed.

Seeing them charge over, the three camouflaged snipers also rushed towards the walls, attempting to get a head start before the rest came.

It was only when you stood directly under the 15 metre high walls that you could appreciate their magnitude. The incline that they had was precious little, but it would still make the ascent a tad bit easier.

As they looked up, they could see the small gap in which the enemy archers would shoot. It was only just big enough for them to crawl through.

Gengyo began his climbing immediately, his fingers finding their way between the bricks, dragging him upward. He had planned his technique beforehand, and once he was there, it was quickly set in motion.

He worked his way up to halfway, not daring to look down. Heights had always been a weakness of his, but not to the point where he would allow it to limit him. He began to slow as the footholds on the uneven bricks grew fewer. He took his time to pick out a stable position before moving onto the next.

Those that were unsure how to tackle the obstacle copied their leader, mimicking his technique. They climbed with their bows slung over the shoulder and a quiver of arrows hanging at their belt. It made the going slightly tougher, but it was worthwhile as it gave them more options should their concealment be compromised.

Morohira quickly ascended till he was level with his son, before rushing on ahead eagerly. They slid through the wooden archers cage and landed heavily on the ground below.

They spared not a glance for each other, and instead looked around the compound. The ground beneath their feet was pure stone, and there were only two buildings within the vicinity. No civilians were present, as it appears they had already been evacuated.

Those details were not the ones they searched for however. They looked out for the blue kimono, and brown armour of the defenders, their eyes darting back and forth to make absolutely certain.

None could be seen, aside from the corpses of those that lay nearby.

He dared to look downwards, helping the others up. 23 made it up ahead of the rest, seemingly the more skilled climbers. That was the point at which Gengyo chose to move, and by how things went, it was likely not a moment too soon.

It was only as he tore his eyes from the climbers down below, and looked back toward his intended target, that he noticed a foot step out from the corner of one of the buildings.

He lazily glanced around, before he made eye contact with Gengyo, and with widened eyes he opened to mouth to scream, just before an arrow punctured his throat.

Lowering his bow, the young man motioned for his men to follow, and with a finger to his lips, he ensured that they would remain quiet.

Past the first building, and behind the second, there were another three guards looking out onto the land below. They were immediately taken care of. Some even ended up with three arrows in their bodies as men drew their bows and fired at the same time.

They moved on past that building, glancing down the length of the wall. There were no men in the area – at least for now.

Their time for true action had come. They moved onwards down the steep slope, and toward the gate. It was barred securely with three beams of strong, green wood. Even if they were to set the gate on fire, it appears it would have taken a while to get through.

It required ten of them to lift the first beam upon their shoulders, and heft it to the ground.

As they worked, a few more men made it over the top of the wall, and following the instructions of Masaatsu – who had been posted in case of such an occurrence – they soon joined up with the rest of their unit.

The second beam was then removed, and placed to the floor. Though it almost destroyed their back and hamstrings, they still had to lower it slowly for fear of making too much of a noise.

And then the third was off, and the gates were left bare. Rokkaku strode forth confidently, flexing his muscles beneath his armour. He was joined by the new recruit who had battled Kitajo – Sasaki.

And together the two burly men pulled the heavy gates open. The sunlight burst through, as did they. Gengyo shot forward, moving toward where his men were still climbing the wall. He quietly informed them of the gate's opening, before he turned toward where he knew Nakatane to be.

He waved his arms high over his head, before he turned his palms inwards, and gestured for them to come towards him. He repeated the motion three times, and waited, his heart beating rapidly.

Chapter 75: For Victory!

Moments later Nakatane stuck his head out from the trees, tentatively looking in Gengyo's direction to make sure that he had interpreted the signal correctly.

Responding to the unspoken question, the young man repeated the earlier signal, encouraging him. That was more than enough for the older man, and he burst out from the trees, his men shooting out behind him.

Despite there being no one to see their crossing, they still sprinted with the utmost urgency, quickly arriving by Gengyo's side, who promptly led them through the gates.

"By the gods… We're in!"

Nakatane whispered, struggling to hold back his excited laugh. It had been too easy. Far too easy.

Both units reformed on the inside, assuming formation so that they would be ready for battle at any time.

Adrenaline surged through their veins and their heartbeat thundered in their ears. It was frightening, but so very exciting. Even the newer members were able to appreciate the thrill. Lead by the young man, they had been lifted up into the roles of predators – the top of the food chain, and now they stalked past the buildings, quietly closing the distance between them and the defending army.

The density of the building placement allowed them to remain far away from prying eyes – though there was still a few guards en route who were swiftly taken care of.

Their footsteps grew ever quieter as the sounds of battle grew closer – they quickly neared the climax of the hunt.

With their backs against the side of the colossal administrative building – that sat in the centre of the fortress – Gengyo led them, poking his head out.

The backs of the defenders were facing toward them, ever so temptingly. They all concentrated on reigning fire down upon the insolate attackers who believed they could overpower them simply with brute force. Their commander – an old samurai wearing the blue garb as his men – stood a few metres back from his troops, out of the reach of any arrows.

He frantically gave orders for quivers to be refilled, and for oil to be poured, as they rained fire arrows down upon the enemy.

"Have your bowmen follow me, and prepare your infantry to charge."

Gengyo whispered to Nakatane who stood anxiously by his side, wondering what the young man was seeing. At his words, the grin of a hungry cat lit his face – the boy had spotted prey!

The order was passed quietly along the line, as the men awaited the signal. In truth, it could be done at any moment, but something made him pause – instinct it seemed.

His inclining turned out to be right, as a stray arrow flew high above the defender's heads, embedding itself into the roof of the grand administrative building with a resounding thud. That was the clincher for the mother bird who resided within the rafters, still holding on in an attempt to protect her young.

She flew out, cawing angrily, swooping low with her talons bared towards the unmasked face of the defending commander.

He flinched upon hearing the caw so close to his ear, as he turned his face to see the exposed claw. He shielded his eyes as he swatted it away, cursing the "damned bird".

In that moment when his attention was distracted, Gengyo moved out from behind the building, his bow drawn. His men followed, and as did the bow ashigaru unit.

He must have sensed something was wrong, for in the instance before they loosed their fingers from the bowstring, he turned around, noticing them.

VWOOSH

And then the volley was fired.

It was every archer's dream. A target all but 200 paces away. So big, and so still. Even if they had not trained at that distance, it was almost impossible to miss.

Many men fell from that single round.

An arrow embedded itself firmly into the old samurai's chest. He glanced to look down at it with distaste, before drawing his sword and shouting out to his confused men.

"INTRUDERS! ARM YOURSELVES FOR BATTLE!"

He bellowed loudly, attempting to rally his troops.

But it was a lost cause. As per the plan, the men of the yari ashigaru unit had finished getting into position, and now they charged, spears held low, ready to skewer the enemy.

It was the perfect first battle. More lenient circumstances one would be unable to find. The defenders were in chaos. In their hands, they still held bows, and some had yet to fully comprehend what was going on.

Even without the experience, they were able to feel what their commanders felt. The instinct of a wolf who sought to devour its wounded prey.

"RAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

They screamed manically, committing themselves fully to the charge.

They hit, like a second volley of arrows, slamming the men up against the very wall they had believed would defend them. Lives were taken in an instant, and multiple injuries were caused. But more than anything, the true chaos of the battlefield was manifest, with all its screaming and noisy clashing of blades.

Miraculously, the old samurai commander was still on his feet, struggling to stay the ruthless points of two of Nakatane's spearmen.

"SWORD FORMATION – WE'RE JOINING IN ON THE PARTY!"

Gengyo called out. His men responded instantaneously, it was the instruction they had been waiting for. Without even the slightest hesitation, their bows were cast aside onto the floor, and their swords were drawn, ready to charge.

The bow ashigaru that stood alongside them look startled at such a sudden transition and struggled to keep up.

"LET'S SHOW THEM HOW IT'S DONE! CHARGE!"

He roared, leading the charge, slamming across the hard stone cobbles, intent on securing the enemies smooth transition into hell.

Nakatane ran alongside him, his face wearing an eager smile. It was an absolute slaughter. And after their recent hard-fought victory against Toda, such a delicious meal of blood that was so easily delivered was most welcome.

The two men flitted past the spear-wielding troops before them, eager to get in on the chaos, not caring for who their target was.

There was a man who did not think so freely though. He had one goal from the very beginning. He had claimed he would, and by the gods he was keen not to go back on his word.

"OLDDDDDDDDDD MANNNNNNNNNNNNN!"

He called from across the battlefield, his blood on fire, eager to take down the biggest target that he had ever faced - a commander!

The old samurai heard his call, casually spitting out a mouthful of blood, as he pulled his sword from the spearman in front of him. He showed not a trace of fear on that worn face of his, accepting the challenge wholeheartedly.

They clashed, and two different fighting styles were immediately manifest. Morohira embraced his instincts, preferring a bestial style that insisted on absolute pandemonium. Whereas his opponent had been trained formally, and his movements were crisp and clean.

But his injury was nagging him. There was no way he could conserve the strength to deal with the viciously powerful strikes that were sending the most intense vibrations down those old arms of his.

After the third strike that he had blocked, his nerves ignored him, and his contracted muscles loosened, dropping the sword from his grip.

He watched it fall with a peaceful look in his eye. Holding his head high, without a trace of fear, he embraced his death, and his head was severed from his body in one magnificent sweep.

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Morohira let out a cry of pure adrenaline upon the successful hunting of his prey, as he stepped past the corpse and joined the rest in sentencing the few remaining defenders to death.

Nakatane and Gengyo cleaved their way through the sea of men, each covered in blood – even their teeth were stained with it. Though the thick liquid continued to mount, and threatened to impair their vision, they did not stop swinging, for they were men who though vastly different, still shared their love for a perfect victory.

Aritada and Yoritomo engaged in combat, wielding a weapon that only a month prior they could only dream of using. They fought back to back, as they always had, not giving a single inch of ground away to the enemy.

Under Gengyo's leadership, they had trained with the sword vigorously and had improved vastly, becoming a force to be reckoned with.

Masaatsu drove his sword through the chest of yet another enemy, only to dodge to the side as someone else's blade burst through the body. Their swords were withdrawn, and the body quickly fell to the floor, revealing a bloodied Kitajo, whose face was unusually serious, but instantly broke into a smile as he saw Masaatsu on the other side.

The yari ashigaru had their fill as well, poking holes in enemies whenever they were given the opportunity. And before long, not a single enemy soldier remained standing.

FWOOSH

Gengyo tilted his head lightly to the side as an arrow spun past. It seemed their allied forces were still firing.

"What's going on up there?"

Okabe asked lazily, turning to one of his samurai for an explanation.

The man he had asked instantly went red, for he had been thinking the same thing just a minute before.

"Er… Forgive me, Okabe-sama… I do not know… Perhaps- er… nevermind."

He responded, completely flustered.

Okabe looked down on him with narrowed eyes, a little disgusted.

'This world is full of incompetent men – yes, it is indeed.'

He thought to himself, turning his eyes back toward the fortress, whose men had ceased returning their fire.

Glancing around the bloodied battlefield, Gengyo saw only two of their own men that had fallen – both yari ashigaru. It was an impeccable victory.

He raised his sword upwards.

"VICTORY GOES TO THE NIWA ARMY!"

The men reciprocated, raising their weapons high, responding with shouts so loud and fierce that their vocal cords began to feel as though they might tear.

"AWOOOOOOO!"

Even Nakatane himself had his sword raised in the air, shouting loud, burning the last of his adrenaline. Jikouji was at it alongside him. Never in their lives did they think the Niwa family name would be the one shouted when victory was claimed.

The proud Oda flag flapped by the side of the central administrative building, letting everyone know for miles around that this magnificent fortress, that was all but impenetrable, was the property of the Oda family.

A young man strode over to it, with an amused smile on his face. He lowered it the ground swiftly, as he pointed to one of the yari ashigaru to fetch him something.

The man returned with a blue pot of paint that had been lying beside one of the archery targets in the square, evidently left in haste.

He drew up the brush, and began painting with firm swift strokes like that of a calligrapher.

Nakatane peered over his shoulder with anticipation.

Within a moment, the kanji for 'red' was painted, and a few seconds later, the kanji for 'feather' was drawn alongside it. Together it read…

"What is that…?"

Okabe asked again of his retainers. A disturbance had been heard within the fortress – something of a loud shout, and then the Oda flag had fallen.

"It reads… Red Feather..?"

His retainer whispered alongside him.

"FOOL!"

He promptly smacked the man's bare head for his incompetence.

"That's a family name… Now tell me… Who the fuck is Niwa?"

Chapter 76: The Niwa Army

"CEASE YOUR FIRE YOU FOOLS!"

Okabe shouted angrily, as he galloped towards the army that was still loosing volley after volley of arrow fire, apparently oblivious to their victory.

They turned to him for an explanation, and seeing the mystified looks on the commanders faces he could do nought but curse bitterly under his breath.

'Bloody incompetent swines.'

He massaged his temples with his forefinger and thumb, attempting to keep his cool, and process exactly what had happened. He did not care for the hundreds of looks that were sent his way. They could wait. No - they must wait.

THUMP

Across the now silent battlefield, the sound of something heavy falling rang out. He perked his head up, alert.

THUMP

Another sound rang out, almost identical to the first. With that second sound he was able to locate the direction from which it came, and he turned his calculating gaze towards it.

SCROOP

The heavy wooden gates of the north side of the fortress of Washizu swung open, slowly and deliberately. Such gates had been fortified with bars of iron. It would have been a difficult task to get through them. And yet that task had seemingly been completed for them. But by whom?

Out of the opened gates - which had by now captured the attention of all upon the battlefield - strode three men, swaggering proudly like a trio of east-end gangsters that had even the police under wraps. But they had every right to walk so confidently.

And behind them, a sea of black poured out as one great tidal wave, before the light caught them, and men could be identified. The black was not longer as deep as it seemed, for the men's armour was stained with a crimson glow, and the spear points behind them were stained with a similar shade of blood.

Such an image caused them to look back on the three men that led them. And to their surprise, those men were also drenched in the sticky liquid. They pondered on why they did not notice it at first... Perhaps it was because they wore it so naturally, that it did not warrant another look.

The central man, who wore a set of scarlet red armour, held a head in his hands, grasping it by its hair.

"Is that..."

"It can't be..."

The commanders whispered amongst themselves, praying that the head he held was not that of the defending general.

They strode right through the ranks of men, who wore baffled looks on their faces, but instinctively stood aside to allow them to pass. There was an aura about them as they walked - even the simple yari peasantry held it - that was all but untouchable, like the coldest breeze.

If they had been intent on taking Okabe's life, then their mission would have been remarkably easy, as they were allowed to walk freely until they were right in front of him.

Though the three of them bowed low, and the one who was dressed in red offered up the head, Okabe still did not feel much taller than them.

"Okabe-sama, the defending General's head. Washizu is yours."

Flawless. From start to finish. They had executed the mission delivered to them perfectly, and did not even stumble at the final hurdle: showing respect, and remembering who their superior was.

A slow clapping sound drifted out, as Okabe brought his palms together, shaking his head whilst he wore a slight smile.

"Excellent. Truly excellent. So you are Niwa, then?"

He praised, speaking to Nakatane.

"That is this one's humble name, my lord."

He responded flatteringly, knowing better than anyone how touchy the nobility were.

"You have pleased me, Niwa. I expected this siege to last at least a few days, but you handled it in a few mere hours. Your competence will, of course, be rewarded. You will receive 300 gold coins for your contribution and- ah. Was it you that cut off this man's head?"

"Respectfully lord, it was not I. It was one of the men."

"I see. That man will also receive 50 coins for his contribution."

Even Gengyo stiffened a little at the mentioned amount. He could only hope that his father would not be so bold as to waste it on alcohol. But by the gods, it was a reward long overdue. His contributions to the battlefield had been overlooked for too long.

The young man was not the only one surprised by the amount, as Itou stepped forward, all but choking after hearing how much the man he had looked down on earlier had won.

"But Okabe-sama! They left the battle and snuck in the-"

"SILENCE!"

Okabe thundered, projecting the true bearing of a general, his eyes narrowing as he looked down upon the measly existence of Itou, as though he wished to crush him.

It took mere fraction a second for the small-time commander to realise the mistake within his outburst, and he dropped to the floor, prostrating himself as he bowed towards the general.

"FORGIVE THIS ONE'S FOOLISHNESS OKABE-SAMA!"

The fear was evident within his voice that was only a single octave away from a scream.

The general sniffed with distaste, before turning his gaze toward the rest of the men who he knew to be dissatisfied.

"I gave you all the same order. A single, very simple one. Capture Washizu – don't break the gates. The rest of you demonstrated your worthlessness by charging headfirst into the wall, wasting the lives of your men. It honestly sickened me to the stomach, having to watch your stupidity."

"But, luckily for the rest of you - as your men would have been wiped out by now – there is a single man among you that has demonstrated his worth, and in the process saved my patience which was beginning to wear thin. He used his brain, and took advantage of your stupidity. He deserves the gold more than any of you. It is more likely that he will know what to do with it."

"My-"

Nakatane opened his mouth to protest the extensive praise that was directed his way, but after a single tug on his arm from Gengyo, he turned to see the young boy shaking his head.

"What is it, Niwa?"

Okabe asked, noticing the exchange.

"Ah… My lord, I just wanted to sincerely thank you for your praise."

He said, a little flustered, having to make something up on the spot.

He narrowed his eyes, not quite believing him. But eventually, he shrugged his shoulders. Whatever that exchange had been about, it was of no concern to him. He was simply here on the orders of Imagawa, and no doubt the Daimyo would be pleased with such a speedy victory.

"Very well. We shall head back to camp, and you will receive your rewards later on."

He turned his horse around without a second word, expecting full obedience, and he was right to. He was a general of the Daimyo's army. None would dare to refuse his command.

As the men moved forward, they began to stand upright, and Nakatane stared at Gengyo with a questioning look on his face.

"Why did you stop me?"

"I knew what you were about to say. I don't need the credit. It's enough for me that we secured victory."

"Yes, but still-"

"No. I am your retainer, Niwa-san. You looked past my peasant status, and gave me this opportunity. What I achieve, are your achievements also, for you're the one who gave me the power to do this."

The master let out a sigh.

"Sometimes I remember that you're still only eighteen, but you speak as though you're as old as Jikouji."

"Older still."

Jikouji seconded, smiling with approval at the young man's modesty.

Amongst the ranks of the Special Forces unit, there was a good deal of commotion.

"Bloody hell Morohira! You knew you'd get gold from the start. Damn it! I wish I'd targeted him instead."

Rokkaku lamented loudly, his mind filled with dreams of all that he could buy for the absurd price of 50 gold. It had only taken 5 gold pieces to recruit around 35 men… so perhaps 350 men… of his very own. Or even a villa in the middle of the mountains! And a few women to go with it.

Morohira had his chest puffed out proudly, accepting all the praises and curses of his fellow men at arms without a hint of modesty. His oldest son would be embarrassed had he not been used to such displays by his father. So instead, he also felt a degree of pride, for he knew that he would – despite all appearances – use the money to look after his mother.

Yoritomo and Aritada were conversing excitedly, recalling the various combinations they had pulled off on the battlefield.

"Bro! I actually managed the Swallow's Wing combo on some guy who was swinging at me with this huge ass sword."

Yoritomo said proudly.

"Aye, I saw. But the best move was definitely when I took those two guys on at once. Got one right in the knee before I kicked the other in the chest. They were goners after that."

Niiro and Kitajo smiled silently, listening to the conversations that were going on around them. They were more prone to withdrawing inside themselves than others, and often found that they enjoyed the quiet whilst they were surrounded by a storm. It was a trait the two shared, despite the difference in their age gap, which allowed them to get on rather well.

If you were to see Kitajo but a month prior, and then look at him now, you would be almost unable to recognize him. Gone was the boy who walked with his head down, and shoulders hunched over, frightened to make eye contact.

Now he walked proudly – though not quite as proudly as the rest – not looking away too quickly when he made eye contact with another soldier from another unit. His gait was measured and consistent, and in his mind, for one of the first times since he had been born, there was peace.

There was no voice, criticising him. Instead, there was a peaceful quiet. He felt like a monk standing on top of a mountain.

Even Masaatsu – who had always been a well-rounded lad – was growing as a result of his experiences. No longer was he just a man that looked like he might be a samurai. Instead he was someone who lived the life of a samurai.

In the face of chaos they had found a man capable of delivering order. And to that man, they pledged their loyalty. Whether they had fought under Gengyo before or not, they all understood that they had found the warm patch of sunlight in an otherwise dark and crowded forest. And by staying with that sunlight, they knew they could grow to reach wonderous heights and experience unbelievable things.

Chapter 77: Favourable Results

The soldiers looked at them strangely as they returned to camp.

"The siege was meant to take three days… don't tell me they lost?"

Was a common whisper that went around. They were men of the larger armies, and felt themselves to be above the likes of the common rabble a couple of small landowner samurai could drum up.

But then they saw one of Okabe's personal guard clutching a servered head in one arm, whilst Okabe wore a small smile on that pale face of his, which was a rarity in itself, and certainly not something that would happen should they be defeated.

But yet the men that railed directly after them looked just like that. As though they had suffered the most miserable defeat of their lives. It was unsettling how many contridictions were present merely within the men's behaviour, as directly after them, a small group of black armoured soldiers – with some ashigaru behind them – were conversing and laughing loudly, paying no attention to the curious glances that were shot their way.

Imagawa waddled from his tent – his fat belly jiggling as he did so – wondering what all the fuss was about. He leaned on a tent pole, with an apple clasped in his meaty grip, munching away whilst he stared at Okabe with a questioning gaze.

The guardsmen passed the head back to his lord, who in turn dropped it by Imagawa's feet. It was less than polite, but seemingly the two men were relatively close, as Imagawa did not even flinch, or take note of the lack of respect.

"And this is?"

"The commander's served head."

Came the pointed response.

"Ho… Who struck this head from its shoulders?"

Okabe turned around in his saddle to look toward the men.

"Well? Who was it? Make yourself known."

So much encouragement was not required, as Morohira pushed his way through the crowd, still stained in the crusted blood of today's battles. It was unarguable – even from just a glance – that this man had fought fiercely.

"Hmm… You're rather small."

He commented idly, still munching on his apple as he looked Morohira up and down. He had to physically restrain himself from bristling. His height was always something that had been commented on as he grew up, and as an older man. It was part of the reason he had come to love fighting so much in the first place – so that he could show those taller than him that height means nothing.

'If you stand too high for me to reach your throat, then I will sever your hamstring and make you kneel.'

Was the thought that had always passed through his head.

"How much did you promise him as a reward, Okabe-kun?"

He asked idly, licking his fingers as they grew sticky from the apple juice.

"50 gold coins."

"50 eh…"

He wandered back inside his tent, casting his apple core away. It flew across the crowd of gathered soldiers bouncing off the helmet of one of them, whose distaste was evident by his wrinkled brow.

And then he returned with a huge wooden chest. They only way he was able to carry it was with both arms, pulling it towards him, and even then he was huffing and puffing. He dropped it with a loud bang, before dramatically producing a key a holding it up for all around to see.

He inserted it and unlocked it in one fluid motion, casting back the lid to reveal that it was full to the brim of gold coins.

A gasp passed through the crowd, for such an amount of money they had never seen in their lives. At the very least there was 10,000 gold in there.

He picked up a few coins in his hand and began to count.

"37… 38… 39..."

"49…50, and 51, so that none can say the Daimyo is not generous with his troops."

He said, pettily trying to one-up his general. Okabe did not even flinch at such a notion. He could not care in the least, for it was not his gold.

"Hold out your hands."

He ordered, speaking to Morohira. He did not need to be told twice, as he had his hands cupped so tightly that they would have no problem retaining even water.

And then, he slapped 51 gold coins into them, taking pleasure in the expression of glee that Morohira wore upon receiving such an amount of money. It was wondrous to him, that one could be so enticed by coin. But of course, he held no value towards it, as it was something that had always been freely available to him.

"Go on now."

He motioned for Morohira to shoo, before he clapped his hands twice and waited.

Moments later the head-severer was back amongst his unit, and Imagawa was sat down in a comfortable chair, as his servants worked busily, transferring hot coals from the indoor fire, and loading them with dry wood, so that their Daimyo would not grow cold.

"Now, Okabe, it seems you have quite the story to tell. It is as of yet not even sundown, and you claim to have captured Washizu in that amount of time, how?"

"Hm… I wonder."

He stroked the short goatee beard that stuck to the end of his long face, more than taking his time to respond.

"Well, I suppose I had better leave this task to someone else. All I know is that the Niwa army managed to get inside and slay the defenders."

Imagawa frowned, holding an expression that said it all. By the looks of it, he shared Okabe's question from earlier that day: "who the fuck is Niwa?"

"I see… Niwa, reveal yourself."

He was not surprised by Okabe's lack of awareness in what had happened during the battle. The two shared the same opinion on the smaller armies of the retainers: they were expendable. It was pointless to spend any effort in commanding them, for it is likely that you would be unable to do so, or their incompetence would get in the way. And so, before the battle, they had reached the consensus that they should be left to do as they please.

Nakatane glanced briefly at Gengyo, wondering whether they really should reveal just how they had gotten inside. But with a nod from the young lad, he was reassured. There was nothing present within the strategy used, or the tactics employed, that would cause them any trouble in the future. It was merely a plan made up entirely for the situation they had been facing.

He took a few tentative steps forward, catching Imagawa's gaze.

"Closer man."

He was made to come closer, until he was standing by the fire, directly opposite Imagawa, sitting under his scrutinising gaze.

"So you're Niwa, eh? Mmm, perhaps your face does seem familiar. But alas, your name does not. Well, not that any of that matters. Walk me through the actions of your men from the beginning of the battle to the end. Try not to make it too boring."

"By your command, Daimyo-sama."

He bowed deeply, before recounting their tale.

"As the other commanders rushed for the wall, we abandoned our ladders and made our way through the forest."

"Why?"

It was an odd question, that caused Nakatane to pause slightly, as he was not the one who had come up with the why in the first place, but he felt he might have guessed the young man's reasoning.

"Simply because exchanging arrow fire with men sat inside an archer's cage is suicide."

He words, of course, caused a few commanders to bristle. Both from his words, and from realizing their own stupidity. They had been caught up within the flow of Itou, assuming they had to show a good impression by not showing hesitance in front of the general.

"Good. Continue."

"We continued within the forest until the northern wall began to run out, and then we attacked at the corner of the eastern wall."

"Attacked? How? No man is fool enough to leave any section of his walls unguarded."

"We took out the three guardsmen that were able to see us by use of the bow."

"…Unless you have amongst your men some of the best archer's in all of Japan, then I think it would be impossible to make such a shot from the edge of the forest. I've been to the battlefield myself. If such a flaw was present within their defences, then we would have taken advantage of it from the start. You had better stop leaving information out, otherwise, I might grow cross."

He bowed low once more.

"Forgive me, Daimyo-sama."

It was not that he had intentionally left information out, it was merely that he was wary of Imagawa's earlier remark: that boring he was something to be avoided.

"Using the nearby grass, we camouflaged our men so that they were able to sneak close enough to make the killing shots."

"Camoflague?"

He frowned as he rolled the word around on his tongue.

"I see… Continue."

He had disbelief written all over his face, but did not give voice to it, asking the man to continue.

"And then, one of our units scaled the walls, and opened the gates from the inside."

"Mmm, I see where this is going now. It must have been a bloody battle for your men, eh? A brave sort they are. At most you had what, 150 men? Against their 300, brutal. How many did you lose? I'll make sure to compensate you for your losses."

Nakatane coughed uncomfortably.

"Er… 2 men, Daimyo-sama …"

His words caused Imagawa's eyes to all but bulge out of his head, as he chocked on his words.

"T-two… men?"

Even Okabe turned around to look at him sharply. He had indeed seen the number in which they emerged with, but he had merely assumed that they had entered with more, possibly 200-250.

"That's correct, my lord…"

He shook his head madly, as if trying to toss the number around enough so that it could find a fit somewhere within his brain.

"How…?"

He asked breathlessly.

"We caught them by surprise… They were not in a fit state to meet us, Daimyo-sama."

"…Are you telling me, you moved a force of 150 soldiers within the fortress of Washizu, and brought them behind the attack force, all without being seen?"

He voice was tainted with disbelief. There were guards positioned everywhere. The chance of such a force staying hidden was virtually none – at least, he himself could not see a way in which it had been done.

Gengyo, on the other hand, was baffled by his disbelief, as were the rest of the men. In the moment, it had been simple. All they did was go slow and shoot anything that moved. It was not exactly the revolutionary strategy Imagawa seemed to be looking for.

"Yes, my lord."

He said firmly. There was something about the confidence in which he announced it that caused Imagawa to pause for a moment. They would find out whether what he said was true or not later – when they moved to occupy Washizu. But for now, it would not hurt to let him have his glory.

He massaged his temples vigorously, before reaching a conclusion.

He dug his hand within the chest of gold, holding a large amount within his palms. He handed it to Niwa rather hastily, apparently keen to let this business rest for now.

"There are around 300 coins here. No doubt Okabe offered you a similar amount. Your contributions are immense, and I'm sure your fellow commanders are grateful to you, for you saved the lives of many of your men."

He bowed gratefully, taking that as his signal to leave.

"Ah, Niwa."

Nakatane turned around.

"You have come to my attention."

Were the last words he spoke, before retiring back inside his tent, as Okabe followed behind him.

Chapter 78: Celebrations

It was a night of celebration for the Niwa army as they raised glasses in the name of their victory, and toasted for future victories to come. It was inevitable that they got drunk – perhaps too drunk. Even Gengyo took a sip of the liquor as he joined in the festivities.

"Come on lad, let's have a chat."

Nakatane steered him towards his tent by his shoulders, as Gengyo insisted that he wasn't drunk.

They pushed the flap of cloth - that made up the entrance - aside, revealing a table drenched in coin.

"This is…?"

Gengyo asked, pointing toward it.

"Correct. The coin that Imagawa gave us."

"I counted it, and it came to 323 gold pieces."

Jikouji added, sitting on a chair by the candlelight in the corner, sipping on a glass full of sake. He wore a contented smile on his face, like a cat that had eaten its fill, and was now bathing in the warm sunlight that flitted through the window.

"Hoh… a generous amount."

He commented.

"It is. It certainly is."

Nakatane nodded twice, agreeing wholeheartedly. It was an amount that had fallen into their hands so easily, compared to what they had gleaned from Toda after sacrificing up many lives.

"But it is not an amount that I can take. Not myself. We would not have had such a victory if it wasn't for you."

"Niwa-san… we've been through this, I'm your retainer."

"Exactly. You're my retainer. And you should be rewarded as such."

He slid a preallocated amount of coin across the table with his hands, bringing it towards them.

"150 gold coins."

"But Niwa-"

"Take it. If we are to serve together for a long time – as I hope we will – we should do things fairly. You may not think you require a reward now, but in time you would. Take it now, and use it however you wish."

Gengyo bit his lip. He really disliked the idea of taking money from Nakatane. It was not something he felt he deserved. He wanted to at least repay the debt he owed to the man. But in this matter, he seemingly had no choice, so he took it within his palm, and slipped it into a large leather coin pouch, before burying it firmly within his kimono. He planned on sharing it with the men later, but as of now, they were much too drunk to be trusted with money.

"Good lad. Now go and enjoy the rest of the celebrations."

Nakatane looked satisfied as he gestured toward the door, as did Jikouji. It was a relief to them being able to reward the young lad what they thought he deserved. To be right, he deserved even more, but they knew if they gave him more than they took for themselves, then he was have refused even more vehemently.

Once more the young man rejoined the lively party, that was so loud it threatened to disturb the sleep of the other, less successful units. But no one dared to come over to chastise them. They were wary of Imagawa's parting comment. No one quite knew where the Niwa army stood in the eyes of the Daimyo, so they proceeded cautiously.

"Ayyyy! Look who's back fellas!"

Rokkaku called out, threading his around Gengyo's shoulders as he called out to the rest of the men, still drinking avidly from the bottle in his hands.

"Awahhh!!! It's the boss! Hahaha, come and get more drink Miura-san!"

Some of the men called in response, their voices attempting to break through the roar of drunken singing as Kitajo played a drum with an intense look of concentration on his face. He appeared to be more of the brooding drunk type.

The new recruits were as much a part of the celebrations as the older ones, as the big Sasaki was engaged in a wrestling match with Morohira as the rest bet on the outcome with coin flying everywhere. The difference in size between the two was vast, but as Morohira had proved time and time again, his strength was not to be underestimated, and if anything, he was even better unarmed than he was armed, and Sasaki was having a rather hard time.

Togashi looked to be enjoying himself as well. Gengyo had noted as they had battled, the man had stayed close to him, like some unofficial guard. He was grateful for the loyalty the man demonstrated, but worried that he might be approaching things too seriously, as to make it difficult to fit in with the rest of the men.

But he needn't have worried, as he and Niiro were sat on a log together, swaying in time with the song as they sung with all their hearts.

"There once was a maid from by the gulllllleyyyyy…"

"Mannnyyyy a man's heart sheeee did sulllyyyyy…"

"But whennnn I caught sighhhht of herrrr beinggg bulllieeedddd…"

"I took the chance toooo proveee I wassss moreeee thannn oneeee bigggg bellieddd mannnn… As I stooodddd besideee herrrr and beatttt themmm bloodddyyy withhhh a pannnn..."

Gengyo – who was a little less drunk than the rest – watched with great amusement what havoc the liquor was causing to their behaviour.

He caught Masaatsu sitting in between Aritada and Yoritomo, as the three of them argued fiercely – albeit drunkenly – of what sword technique was superior. It was amusing that even when victory had been taken, and though they had been given the chance to relax, the thing still foremost on their minds was the sword. It was rare to find such dedication, and also a little surprising for Gengyo to see his brother so engaged in it. He had not realised he shared the two boy's fondness for the sword.

A great bonfire raged in the centre of their circle of partying. It was beautiful to see that even with the liquor running through their veins, the men retained their sense of honour, and there were no serious altercations, only good-natured scuffles. It was a very healthy form of partying, motivated by the need to celebrate, rather than to escape.

Food was ever-present, as one of the new recruits was taking his job very seriously. In one of the past conversations he had shared with his leader, he had found out that the man was once a chief to one of the samurai households in the area. But had quit, after growing tired of the monotony of the kitchen.

After quitting he had not lost any of skills, as Gengyo sampled some of the roast chicken that had been left – still hot – on a table, waiting for them to be eaten.

"Delicious!"

He shouted, a little influenced by the alcohol.

"Thanks boss!"

The man called out in return.

"Ay! Boss? Wanna wrestle?"

Rokkaku asked, as he and a group of other's gathered round their leader to share more food and more liquor. The suggestion was met with numerous roars of approval from the rest of the men, as they called for their leader to demonstrate his skill in the art of unarmed combat.

"Go on boss! Wrestle!"

He had initially thought of refusing, not wishing to embarrass himself in front of the men he would lead, but by now the attention of the rest of the unit had been attracted, and even Morohira came over, having won his bout with a now bruised up Sasaki.

"Go on son! Show them how the Miura's fight!"

"FIGHT!"

Niiro bellowed, extremely drunk, before he had Togashi shared a look and burst out laughing.

The young man raised a hand, as a circle formed around them, with other's calling for the bout. They had not seen their leader wrestle with anyone. Even duels were a rarity, so they were genuinely excited to see how he would handle the colossal Rokkaku, who only stood slightly smaller than Sasaki.

"Fine! Rokkaku! LET'S WRESTLE!"

"WOOOOO! LET'S GET IT!"

Rokkaku roared, pumped. They all knew their boss to be a brilliant man, but he thought, in this at least, he could best him.

The rules would be that of sumo, as all wrestling bouts tended to be. If any part of their body – apart from their feet – touched the floor, then it was a point to the opponent. Or if they got pushed outside of the circle, they would also concede a point.

The two faced off against each other, swaying slightly from the liquor.

They quickly assumed the grappling position, with their hands on each other's shoulder's fighting to get on the outside, so that they could control the movements.

In raw strength, Rokkaku was years ahead of his young leader, but wrestling – especially competitive wrestling – was more a chess match than it was a display of raw power, more so if your opponent would not allow you to engage in raw power.

Rokkaku lowered himself, and used his body weight to push the lighter man forward. With his hands still on the tall man's shoulders, he pulled the left shoulder more towards him, forcing the bigger man to take a larger step with his lead leg.

In that instance, he slipped from his grasp, lowering himself so that he was almost parallel to the floor, and extremely low. With that, he exploded, throwing himself at the knee, ruining his balance, and sending him crashing to the floor.

"OHHHHHHHHH! THE BOSS HAS GOT MOVES MAN!"

Yoritomo shouted above the noise of the cheering crowd. It was a very basic wrestling technique, but the execution was perfect.

"You slippery bastard!"

Rokkaku shouted, roaring with laughter as he lay sprawled out on the floor.

"But this next point is mine!"

He went in, feigning that he would resume the grappling position, but instead, he went low, and captured the young man's legs, leaning backwards and tossing him over shoulder as though he weighed as little as a bag of flour.

Gengyo landed heavily, and the wind was forced out of his lungs. But he also could not help chuckling. It had been a while since he had engaged in wrestling of any sort, and he had forgotten how adrenaline-filled it could be.

"Good!"

He shouted, dusting his clothes off.

"Rokkaku, what points are we aiming for?"

"Mmm… Best of three! It all comes down to this one boss!"

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

They prowled around each other, waiting to counter their opponent's next move.

Rokkaku tried again to get in low, but this time Gengyo was prepared for it, and countered by going even lower, as they resumed a grappling position attempting to push each other out of the ring.

Rokkaku managed to secure the outside position with his arms, but the younger man had let him do so, as he reached for his neck, attempting to control his head. The goal was achieved and he forced the head downwards.

The bigger man forced his head back up immediately, but in the instance where he had lost sight, the younger man had moved, and gotten extremely low, driving forwards at an impressive speed, and securing both knees with his hands.

There was no chance of him remaining standing after such an attack to his weak point, and he fell heavily to the floor, laughing all the while.

"WOHHH!! THE BOSS ACTUALLY WON!"

The men cheered all the more. Even Rokkaku did. They were not in it simply for the victory, but to enjoy the thrill of the contest. Gengyo raised his hand up, accepting the cheers, before he helped Rokkaku to his feet, and raised his hand up as well.

The cheering increased, as Rokkaku accepted his loss without complaint, impressed by the young man's technique.

"You're so slippery, boss! So damn slippery! But good fight!"

"Aye big man, good fight!"

He returned the praise, having genuinely enjoyed it. And so that brought an end to the night of celebration for the Niwa army, and they each began to drift towards their tents, catching some sleep in preparation for the next task that was bound to come their way.

Chapter 79: Tōkaidō Road

A couple of days passed, and their forces remained stationary. The men of the Special Forces unit stayed in good spirits, especially after having received 2 gold each from their leader.

And then two mornings hence, as they sat around the fire, sharing breakfast, and attempting to break free from the morning drowsiness, a messenger rode into camp.

He rode one stallion – that was breathing mightily – at a borderline gallop, whilst he lead the other by the reigns. Clearly, he had been riding rather hard, which warranted the two horses, so that he could give one a chance to rest whilst he rode the other.

He jumped down and headed straight for Imagawa's tent, before kneeling by the entrance, and announcing himself loudly.

"Marune has fallen! Victory goes to Matsudaira-sama, and to the Imagawa forces!"

This shout attracted the attention of the majority of the camp, as whispers broke out.

The flap of cloth - that shielded the entrance to Imagawa's tent – trembled, and the man emerged himself, his teeth sunk firmly into peach as he allowed the sticky juices to run down his many chins, before his tongue chased after them greedily.

"Mmm, he has? Good. He took longer than he ought to though – we've been waiting for days."

The messenger dared to glance up with a look of curiosity.

'Longer than he ought to? We completed the siege in a measly 3 days!'

He thought to himself, but of course, he dared not to voice such opinions to the man himself, lest he wish to have his head rolling.

"Has he already begun moving toward the Tokaido road?"

He asked of the messenger, finishing most of the flesh of the peach, before putting the large seed within his mouth so that he might clean off any debris that was still stuck to it.

"He has, my lord."

"Mmm, good. You may go now."

Gengyo watched the exchange with a degree of disapproval. The messenger had clearly ridden throughout the night so that he might deliver the news promptly, but he was immediately dismissed without even the slightest courtesy.

"Get ready to move. We'll meet up with Matsudaira along Tokaido road, as planned."

His words were spread further throughout the camp by his men, who echoed them off precisely as they had initially been spoken. It did not take long for the men to pack away their things, as they had all been expecting this for a while.

Matsudaira Motoyasu was a member of the Matsudaira clan, who were at the time forced retainers of the Imagawa. He and Imagawa did not get on that well – as the Daimyo looked down upon him and upon his clan – but he still followed the orders as they were put to him, for he had no other choice.

The Niwa army began their march toward the Tokaido road in high spirits, feeling well-rested. They were likely the most confident unit in the entire army at that point – which, in itself, was fine, Gengyo decided. He merely had to work to make sure that there was never such a scare that the confidence would start to fade.

Tokaido road – which was their target destination – was one of five important trade routes in Japan at that time, and thus it was well known and well worn.

They passed numerous villages on their way. All of which were left empty. But it was not as though they passed the villages without a second thought. By the orders of the Daiymo, each and every settlement was looted, so that they could stock up on supplies for the march ahead.

Even Washizu was looted as they passed it. The men went inside to inspect the damage, and it was found that Niwa's words were true. There was a field of dead men, and a flock of carrion birds, but no other men wearing the Niwa uniform – the two fallen had already been taken days before.

It was odd walking as part of such a large group. When the frontmost man stopped, it took a few minutes longer for the back to begin to stop. As it was the same when the frontmost man began walking again. It was more like how a fluid might behave, than a group of people. Of course, there was no one Gengyo could share this appreciation with, so he did so in silence.

They walked from dawn till just before sundown, not stopping once. They ate on the move, and drank too. But it was not especially taxing – and certainly not for the Special Forces unit – as they were moving at all but a crawl. But that was the case for large armies – they had their supply carriages to take care of.

They made their stop before sundown, and the men stood in place, wondering whether this would be their stopping place for the night.

A man - bearing the yellow Imagawa comb-like crest upon his sleeve – galloped down the line, appearing to be looking for someone.

He sped past them, before violently reigning his horse to a halt, and trotting back.

"Niwa?"

"Correct."

Nakatane responded to the question.

"Follow me; the Daimyo wants to see you."

He stepped off as to move along the line of people, before he was corrected by the servant.

"Have your men follow as well."

He raised an eyebrow at that, wondering quite what he would find at the front of their pack, but still followed the orders anyway, and called out for his men to follow.

They marched swiftly toward the front where the reason for their summoning became clear. Blocking the road forward, were a group of around 500 men, spears poised.

Imagawa turned to look at them out of the corner of his eye as they approached.

"As you can see Niwa, we have something of a problem. You're one of the few landholder-lords who's name I know, so it falls to you to deal with it. Treat it as an honour."

"These men insist on being sent to the grave, which is all very well, but how dare they hinder our progress!"

"Now, I want you to deal with them. We will set up camp here, and rest the men."

It was an exceptionally petty way of reacting to the threat. Of course, the purpose of their blockage was obvious: to slow down their advance. That was all they could hope to achieve, however, as in a frontal assault in which Imagawa utilised the entirety of his forces they would be crushed.

But the Daimyo wished not to give them the satisfaction of having slowed him. He chose to stop here, as though they had intended to set up camp all along, whilst having some of the lesser-lords deal with the measly numbers, and tidy it all up by morning.

"It would be my honour, Daimyo-sama… but I fear I do not have enough men."

Niwa bowed low, searching for more favourable conditions.

"Bah! More men? There are a mere 500 hundred – a rabble! You should pierce through them as a warm knife pierces butter… and yet you ask for more men?!"

The fat of his chin wobbled furiously as he spoke, genuinely seeming irritated.

"…I will put one more of the landholder lords under your command. That ought to be enough!"

In response Niwa simply bowed lower, unspeaking. Their battling would be more favourable than before, but it seemed they were still destined to be outnumbered.

"You!" He pointed to one of his guardsmen that sat attentively upon his horse. "Choose one of the landholder lords, and bring him to fight with Niwa."

He left without a second word, heading over to wait beside his tent that was already under construction.

Nakatane breathed a sigh at his behaviour, turning to Gengyo for his opinion.

"What do you reckon?"

"It depends on who they send to help us… but it'll probably be fine."

He mused, making mental notes of the composition of the enemy forces. There seemed to be a cavalry force of around 50 strong. The rest was made up of yari ashigaru and bow ashigaru. He could not see the yellow and black Oda flower hanging on a banner anywhere, but he could only assume that those men were his.

Truthfully, he was unsure of what Oda's motives were in sending such an amount of men to basically die. But he imagined he would find out soon enough.

The men around them started to fall back, setting up camp along the road, whilst they stared off against the army of men who were around a kilometre away.

They heard the drumming of marched feet coming from towards their rear, as a middle-aged man – dressed in full battle attire, in a dark blue suit of armour – lead his men towards them, bowing toward Nakatane as he came close.

"I saw your victory at Washizu, it is my honour to fight beside you today!"

"What is your name, friend?"

Nakatane asked.

"Gosankyo Shigekiyo, Niwa-san. Fear not, we are yours to command – we shall not get in your way.

"Well met, Gosankyo-san! I have no doubt that your support will prove invaluable. However, I hope that you will listen to my er… strategist, as well."

He said, pointing toward Gengyo.

Gosankyo turned to look toward the young man, who returned his gaze unwaveringly. He was a little surprised by his age – evidently still a teen. There was not a single wrinkle in sight. But the glint of the boy's intelligence gaze made him pause before underestimating him. If he was Niwa's strategist after all, he must have some degree of skill.

Gengyo in turn, was evaluating the man as well. He looked to be in his forties, with all the wrinkles to go with it. He wore his bushy sideburns long, and his hair was firmly secured under his kabuto. He decided that he liked the man's straightforwardness, but was unsure whether that would translate to competence on the battlefield.

"Good to meet you, I am Miura."

He introduced himself casually with a nod.

"Ah! Yes, good to meet you."

Gosankyo responded hastily, a little put off by how relaxed the man appeared.

The boy's eyes began to wander, and soon they fell upon a stick. He picked it up, and began to draw upon the dusty earth as though he was the only person for miles around. Gosankyo shot Nakatane a questioning look, who merely shrugged in response.

He began to set some stones upon the earth, in rows, before motioning with his head for the three other men to come over.

"What's this?"

Jikouji voiced the question that was foremost on their minds.

"A battle plan."

He had judged it necessary, since they were working with a new force – one that they did not have direct control over – to show them his plans beforehand.

There were 6 stones on their side of the battlefield. Yet three of them were all bundled in one place – the left-wing. Whilst the enemy stones were laid evenly in a flat line, with a stone behind them – that being the mobile horse unit.

They stared at it for a while, struggling to make sense of what he seemingly wished to imply, and he waited patiently for them to do so. It was a rather simple plan, but he still wished for them to be able to visualize it properly before they dared to put it into execution.

"…Is this my men?"

Gosankyo asked, pointing to the clump of three stones on the left-wing.

With a firm nod, Gengyo replied.

Chapter 80: A True Meaning

"You and your men will take the left-wing – we will take the centre and right-wing."

Gengyo proposed.

"What? Are you sure? We have a similar number of men to you… If you spread yourselves on both the centre of the right-wing you'll be overwhelmed!"

The young boy raised his eyebrows, sharing a look with Jikouji and Nakatane.

"This man thinks we'll be overwhelmed? Hoho! Are we not being underestimated a little?"

They shook their heads at the boy's teasing, with light smiles on their faces.

"No, no! I don't mean that… It's just…"

The young smiled up at him, letting him know it was a joke.

He looked slightly embarrassed at the realization, but conceded to silence as he allowed an explanation to be made.

"We are handing you the most vital role in this battle, Gosankyo-san. With your superior numbers, you must crush their right-wing, and then flank the men that we will keep engaged."

He paused, his eyes widening. He had merely known them for ten minutes. They did not know what strength his men had, nor how competent they were, yet they were handing him the key to victory, placing their hopes on him.

He forced his fist into his hand, his blood boiling. The pressure was immense, but the excitement was far greater.

"I will not let you down!"

He said seriously.

In truth, his role in this battle would be the easiest. But Gengyo did not let him know that. The reason he had been handed the offence role, was not because he was confident in the man's strength, but the very opposite. He did not want him to engage the mass of 300-400 men - as they would have to - only to crumble, and his men to route. That would be direct route to defeat.

Instead, he had placed his own men upon the flanks, because he believed them to be the most powerful force on that field of battle, and he did not wish for their flanks to crumble. Nakatane's men would take the centre – which, in itself, was a crucial role, but he would have twice the men packed together, and the support of the Special Forces unit when required.

"Good."

Gengyo took up his stick, and drew an arrow from the three stones on the left-wing, straight forwards into the enemy forces.

"So, to summarise, you will engage the enemy's right-wing. Set some of your men further to the left, and you can envelop them. Victory should be swift."

Then he drew a curved arrow from the point of engagement, round toward the rear of the centre.

"Then, you will bring your men around, and cut apart their centre."

He sent the reinforcements toward the centre, because he believed – though they were superior in number – that Nakatane's men were likely to fall before his own.

"Understood?"

"Understood! I will bring us success!"

He said passionately, relishing his roll in the battle to come. He had not known what to make of the boy at first, but now he understood first hand why Nakatane had placed him within the role of strategist.

Jikouji and Nakatane realized that their end of the fighting would be the most bloody, and it would be a bitter grind for victory. But the strategy was sound, and they could not fault it.

"Miura-kun, what of this cavalry unit? That's bound to cause some trouble."

Jikouji asked, picking up the stone he knew to represent the horsemen, and toying with it.

"We will deal with them reactively. I have a plan in place for that, so do not worry."

"Mm."

They knew the planning to be all but concluded, and by some unspoken agreement, their eyes drifted towards the rows of men before them. They had stood completely still, in the same formation for at least 20 minutes. It was rather creepy, and had he not known better, Gengyo might have assumed that it was a dummy army made up of strawmen in armour.

Last-minute alterations were made to their armour, and the formations of the men were assumed. Morale amongst the Niwa forces was high, as it was amongst Gosankyo's men, who had heard of their importance in the battle to come, and were as excited as their commander.

They faced off against the enemy, weapons ready. Still the enemy did not react.

"ARCHERS, FORWARD!"

Gengyo called out, motioning forwards with his arm. The bow ashigaru moved out from behind the yari ashigaru – even the Gosankyo bowmen followed his command. They walked out steadily, stepping out almost one hundred paces away from the infantry. The entire Special Forces unit had marched forward as well, spears in hands and bows over shoulder, so that if the calavry wished to try anything sneaky, they would meet a rather grisly end.

They continued walking, reaching the 150 pace mark, and only then did the enemy respond.

"HOLD!"

He called out, taking the necessary precautions incase of a surprise attack.

But from the enemy ranks did not come bow ashigaru, nor even calvary. Instead, 50 men - apparently unarmed, apart from short blades strapped to their belts – walked forward.

They continued walking, steadily, completely in step with one another. It was creepy, and Gengyo felt a chill whisper down his spine. Something was wrong – very wrong.

The men paused 30 paces out of their bowman's range, as they stopped and stared emotionlessly.

In his throat the order to retreat caught, for he could not bring himself to speak. The men had looks of curiosity on their face too, but it seemed they were nowhere near as unsettled as he was.

Every instinct in his body warned him of danger, but like a fool, he listened to his brain that attempted to command rationality.

With one fluid movement, the men withdrew the daggers at their hips, again, all in time with one another. He flinched at their sudden action, furious with himself for feeling so on edge.

More than anything, he wanted to give the order for his men to go forward and shoot them down. But if not a trap, what could this be? There was no army in the world insane enough to behave so oddly without meaning – it was far too dangerous.

They lifted their blades high, as one. Their gaze remained firmly pinned to the enemy, almost unblinking. And then, the sharp steel caught the evening sunlight, as they brought it to their throats and dragged it across the soft skin of their necks.

Blood gushed from the red gashes that convulsed like a pair of smiling lips. Through some immense force of will, they remained standing, all the while making eye contact, as the blood of their life decorated the floor.

FLOOP

Like the gentle sound of a stone falling into water, they collapsed to the ground, dead.

…

Silence. Even the most experienced veteran would not know how to react to such a thing. What kind of man could slit his own throat? A demon? An army of psychopaths?

They were not given due time to contemplate, as the enemy charged forward, roaring like death reaping banshees.

The men were frozen in fear. Who would not be? The enemy they were facing… They mustn't be human! How were they meant to win against such insane people? People who could unflinchingly slit their own throats. They didn't want to die… They didn't.

The Gosankyo bow ashigaru were the first to rout, sprinting back to their lines of spearmen, hiding behind them. It was in that moment, that they were glad to have been picked for the bow unit – they did not want to face such animals face to face.

Spurred on by the fleeing of the Gosankyo unit, Nakatane's bowmen soon followed. The Special Forces unit did not move, but they glanced around wildly, seeking direction. They knew staying would be a mistake, but fleeing would be dishonourable, and against orders. But by god, they wished to flee.

Gengyo watched the chaos of the battlefield, the dots connecting in his head.

"Oda Nobunaga… haha…"

He chuckled lightly, now truly seeing through what had been planned for them.

"Nobunaga… you're a fucking monster."

Their battlefield was meaningless, in essence. The outcome – even if they won – would be their loss. Nobunaga had known that from the start. The true meaning for this literal suicide squad became clear. It was never to slow Imagawa in the first place – though it would achieve that anyway. It was part of a much grander and much larger picture.

They were here, planning strategies to win the battle in front of them, whereas Nobunaga was already thinking of the future.

"We're fucking idiots…"

He lamented bitterly, more to himself than anyone else. He should not have stepped upon the field of battle so boldly. He should have afforded Nobunaga more credit. His evaluation of Imagawa had led him to think that the Okehazama victory had merely been from Imagawa's incompetence.

But what kind of fool would allow himself to think like that? Oda Nobunaga had gone on to unify all of Japan! How could he have himself allowed to underestimate such a man? How did he dare to see things at face value?

'Have I grown arrogant?'

He wondered. His easy victory at Washizu had perhaps started to sow those seeds. Even the most intelligent of men could not stand up to a monster if they did so with arrogance in their hearts.

'Is this it, then? The men will rout… They think we are dealing madmen.'

But he himself knew the true identity of those men that had sacrificed their lives. They were members of the Oda family guard. It should have been immediately obvious from the extraordinary discipline they displayed, simply from their initial movements. But he had been too slow, too confident.

For him to cast aside such loyal men, such highly capable soldiers, within a single movement... that was the height of callousness. But it was also the height of genius. With these seeds sown upon the battlefield today, his victory above Imagawa was a step closer. The morale of the men would fall, as word spread that the Oda forces were barely human – their minds were gone. They could slit their own throats without batting an eye.

'I wonder how many men we can save…'

'No… Fucking hell. What am I thinking? Who the fuck am I?'

'…who am I? That's right! I'm fucking Kasai Gengyo! I've dealt with adversaries far cleverer than this. I climbed the mountain of the modern world, and perched my arse right on the top! For me to fail here… that'd be… that'd be a fucking embarrassment!'

'I'm Kasai Gengyo! No – Miura Tadakata! Even if it's Oda Nobunaga, the grand unifier of Japan, he will have to do better than cheap parlour tricks to best me.'

He clenched his fist, furious. He had been bested once by Nobunaga – but he would not allow that to pass. He would crush his plan, and reclaim his honour.

"I AM MIURA TADAKATA, AND BY MY NAME, THIS BATTLE WILL BE OURS! SPECIAL FORCES UNIT, FALL BACK AND REFORM LINES. WE'RE TAKING THIS VICTORY! IT'S OURS! DO YOU HEAR ME, THIS IS FUCKING OURS!?"

He shouted out, his sword raised high into the air as he sat upon his horse, and shouted, the anger evident in his voice.

Nakatane's blank face glanced in his direction, before colour returned, and he understood.

"I AM NIWA NAKATANE, AND BY MY NAME, AND BY MY HISTORY, I SWEAR THAT WE WILL BE VICTORIOUS UPON THIS FIELD OF BATTLE!"

He roared out, his voice even louder than Gengyo's.

Chapter 81: The Fury of Battle

Their hot fury began to melt the cold fear that crept up the spines of the men, as they started to break free of their frozen stupor. The Special Forces Unit followed behind the rest, grateful for the order to retreat.

But it was far from enough. The men were terrified, and the enemy was growing ever closer. The way things were going, they would not even survive the first wave. Complete annihilation was on the horizon, and it was all orchestrated by one man who was not even present.

But by the gods, Gengyo would not allow that to happen. The shame of falling victim to such a strategy was more than he could bear.

He urged his horse forward till he stood between his men, and the enemy - who were closing that one-kilometre distance at a rapid pace.

"MEN!"

He barked, his gaze intense. The Special Forces unit stiffened – they had never seen him so furious.

"I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS DEFEAT. I REFUSE TO SHOW FEAR TO THIS RABBLE!"

"I AIN'T FUCKIN' SCARED, BOY!"

Morohira roared, banging his clenched fist hard against his chestplate.

"AYE! WHY SHOULD WE FEAR MEN WHO FEIGN TO BE DEMONS, WHEN WE ARE ALL QUITE COMFORTABLE GOING TO HELL?"

"OR ARE YOU NOT? DID YOU MARCH UP UPON THIS BATTLEFIELD MERELY FOR COIN? I SPEAK TO YOU – ALL OF YOU. GOSANKYO ARMY. NIWA ARMY. WILL WE FLEE WITH OUR TAILS BETWEEN OUR LEGS, ONLY TO BE SLAUGHTERED? OR WILL WE FIGHT, AND DIE AS LEGENDS!?"

His words seeped through the cloud of fear that had tainted them, and the lesser men began to see the real purpose of their stance here today. They did not simply fight to serve their lord, and to serve their coin, they dreamed of fighting so that the world would hear their names. So that they would not live out their lives as mere peasants, dying in the cold of some disease.

"RAH!"

Gosankyo let out a frustrated shout. Two systems in his body were in open conflict. His primordial systems that desired only self-preservation, battled within his head, aiming to defeat his dream for glory. This was not just a battle where men met upon the field. Nobunaga had changed the stage entirely. He had attacked each man individually, within their minds – where most were weakest.

But he could not dare to let his cowardice rule him. Especially when one so young, with so much potential, was willing to give his life for the sake of this victory. To him, in the grand scheme of things, this battle was worth little. But the boy seemed to have taken personal offence, and he thought he knew why.

He spurred his horse to the front, as he and Nakatane both joined to stand side by side with the young strategist.

"I REFUSE TO COWER IN THE FACE OF MAD MEN! I PLACE MY TRUST, AND MY LIFE, WITHIN THE SWORDS AND SPEARS OF MY OWN MEN! I WILL FIGHT!"

Gosankyo called out, his voice raw with emotion, so that it all but cracked. But his face was hardened. Doubts were cast aside. The only thought present was a single minded persistence that craved victory.

His men met his gaze, as they still shuddered from the horrific display of earlier. He really was ready to die. There was no deceit within those eyes. Only a true coward, and the worst of men, could have looked in those eyes and turned tail. Even though their experience was little, and the lives they had lived had been that of peasants, in that moment, under that amount of trust, they dared to assume the hearts of warriors.

"WE FIGHT FOR YOU, GOSANKYO-SAMA! FOR VICTORY!"

A bold man by the front raised his spear, and soon all the Gosankyo men seconded his shout.

"AWOO!"

A more beautiful sound I dare you to find, than the shout of men united for one purpose, unwavering in their determination.

"WILL WE COWER WHEN OUR ALLIES ARE SO READY TO FIGHT?"

Nakatane called out, bristling. He had realized there was something more significant to this battle, and would dare to let his forces crumble.

"NO!"

The men shouted as one.

"BEHOLD! MEN OF THIS UNITED ARMY! BEHOLD HOW DEMONS FALL!"

The men were almost on top of them now. Only a little over one hundred metres sat between the three mounted leaders, and the raging onslaught of over 400 bloodthirsty beasts. But none of them showed even a drop of fear. They had wrung it out from their blood.

Gengyo notched his arrow, and pulled back his bowstring.

FWOOSH

SPLURT

It soared through the air, and took one of the leading men in the eye, killing him instantly, and causing those behind him to stumble over his dead body. And like that, the army was revealed to be human.

"ALL MEN WITH A BOW! SEND THESE DEMONS BACK TO HELL!

It was only then, at the last instance, that they rode back to join their ranks. But they did not do so on a horse. They dismounted, and joined their men to fight on the front lines.

A flock of almost 100 arrows flew up into the darkening sky, and descended upon the approaching forces with malice, claiming many lives.

The enemies bow units were effectively useless. As they could not fire whilst their own men were fighting. The optimal composition for that army would have been all spear, sword, and cavalry units. But such a makeup would have been odd, and would have raised suspicion prematurely.

"ASSUME SPEAR FORMATION!"

Gengyo called out, joining his men in taking up the spear.

"YARI WALL!"

They directed their spears outwards, forming a column of spikes. The other forces joined them in this display.

Their fear had all but disappated, as they were fired up by the commander's speeches. And now, seeing so many of the enemy forces dead or wounded… They could not fear such mortals. Instead, their fear was replaced by anger. Anger that they were ever afraid of humans at all, and as the first wave of men hit, the united army stood strong.

"OORAH!"

The men roared, stabbing outwards with their spears.

"ASSUME SWORD FORMATION!"

They cast their spears aside, and rushed in. A wall of dead lay where the points of their spears ended, and they stepped over them with authority, becoming a force of slaughter amongst the ranks of the attacking spearmen.

"GOSANKYO ARMY, PUSH!"

Gosankyo called out, right in the thick of the action. Despite all that had happened, he still remembered the plan, and was sticking to it. He and his concentrated forces pushed forward, one step at a time, claiming many lives along the way. They adopted a new formation on the spot, one that allowed men - from three rows back - to get in on the action, by extending their long yari forward.

It was brutal. Against such a wall, even if their numbers had been even, the enemy would have struggled. But as it happened, they had men numbering three times as much, and they relentlessly pushed forward, slaughtering all that stood in their way, like a madly predatory snail.

"MIURA! CAVALRY INCOMING!"

Jikouji called out, the panic evident in his voice. They swept down the field, past the right-wing – where they knew the forces to be weakest – aiming to slaughter the defenceless bow ashigaru, before moving on to assault the rear of the engaged forces.

Gengyo heard his cry, and responded without the slightest bit of concern. This was something he had prepared for beforehand, and compared to everything else that had transpired, it was a simple counter, making him pay the mounted horseman almost no mind.

"COUNTER-CAVALRY! DISPATCH!"

Before the fighting had begun, he had gathered up ten of his best men, and spoken to them, away from the rest.

"Father, brother, Yoritomo, Aritada, Togashi, Rokkaku, Sasaki, Niiro, Kitajo, Munakata. I have an important task for you all in the battle to come."

"Important task, eh? You only need me for that."

Morohira had said.

"When the battle starts, and I call out sword formation, I want you to keep your spears, and listen for my command. Your task will be to block off the cavalry when they attack, so remain in a position where that will be possible."

And they had done just that. Immedietely as the order was uttered, they separated themselves from the frontline fighting, and moved to form a wall in the path of the cavalry, their spears pointed upwards, ready to skewer anyone that moved too close.

Unable to slow their speeding horses in time, the horsemen crashed onto the spears. The sound of screaming horses filled the air, as the riders were cast from the saddles, landing hard upon the floor. They did not even have time to recover, as the sharp point of the yari put an end to their lives.

Even those that had managed to pause just in time did not escape so easily. It was almost impossible for them to duel with the long yari, given the mere swords that they were holding, and they were slaughtered rather quickly.

When their numbers were reduced to ten, the riders realized the futility of their assault, and with a trace of fear on their faces - as a bloodthirsty Morohira rushed to claim their lives - they galloped away.

"BEGIN ENVELOPMENT!"

Gosankyo called out, having quickly broken through the enemy right wing. He circled his men around, and brought them down hard on the rear of the centre. Trapped by two spear walls, the innermost men were crushed. They turned to look back in confusion, seeing a horde of spears aimed their way.

It was enough for most of them, and they began to rout. Not that there were many places they could run to – very few escaped.

Gosankyo fought fiercely, leading the assault from the very middle, staining his armour and his spear in the blood of his enemies. Nakatane and Jikouji were of a similar appearance – both stained in blood, only they chose to do slaughter with their swords rather than spears.

The Special Forces Unit routed the enemy left wing before the Gosankyo army could even come to assist them. As it happens, they performed a flanking manoeuvre of their own. The men who formed up the counter-cavalry force – instead of rejoining at the front lines – swept around the side, and cut through the backs of the enemy.

They were an elite unit, and it wasn't long before the enemy soon felt a similar fear, feeling as though they were fighting demons rather than men. Especially with the bestial nature in which Morohira threw himself about, with apparently no concern for his life, and his only intent to find more prey.

One of the last men – realizing that all his comrades were either dead, or were fleeing – threw himself at Morohira, in a maddened attempt at taking the man with him. The two crashed to the ground, brawling. But unfortunately for the man, this was exactly where Morohira's strength lay.

He quickly threw the man off the top of him, and pinned him to the floor, reigning down blow after blow with his armoured fist, thoroughly disfiguring the face of the enemy under him. With a sickening crack, the skull fractured, and the man breathed his last.

When he rose to his feet, he realized that the fighting had stopped, and his allies were looking his way. There was a mutual feeling within those stares: 'I'm glad he's on our side…'

Chapter 82: Rejoice!

"Did we win?"

A man asked, as the looked at the backs of the enemy, fleeing. Their bow ashigaru had fled without even a fight – 50 men in total. A few yari ashigaru had managed to escape, but their numbers were insignificant. The men that were left could pose no trouble. It was an overwhelming victory.

"Aye! We won!"

Gengyo announced. They had defeated the enemy in more ways than one. Not only had they beaten them on the battlefield, but they had also crushed Oda's fear tactics before they could propagate. Now, when tales were told of how 50 of the men had sliced their own throats, they would not feel fear, but instead scorn! For that army had fallen to a lesser force.

"REJOICE, MEN! FOR YOU HAVE FACED THE DEMONS OF HELL, AND LIVED TO TELL THE TALE. LET YOU FEAR NOTHING FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAYS, AND LET THE WORLD, INSTEAD, FEAR YOU!"

He raised his sword high in the sky. He was lost amongst a crowd of men, so not many could see him. But all knew who it was that spoke, and as they raised their weapons skyward, they let out cheers filled with pride.

"YEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

"FUCK THOSE BASTARDS!"

"VICTORY TO THE UNITED ARMY!"

"AWOOOOOOOOO!"

A man that had gazed upon the depths of hell, and felt the chilling grip of fear around his heart, yet shook it off, and using his cold, hard steel, and fiery heart, cut his way to freedom. Now that was a man that could look upon himself with pride. There was a man who had experienced the truest sense of himself.

And all 300 of them had. Whether dead or alive. They had looked upon the monster that Nobunaga had conjured, and recognized their fear, before promptly telling it to fuck off, and crushing it to pieces.

A complete reversal. The enemy forces had banked their victory entirely upon the fear created, and had thrown themselves with all their might at the united army. But in the end, that had been their downfall. They ran headfirst into a brick wall, one that instead of moving backwards, moved forwards.

Due to the strategy employed - putting Gosankyo's forces upon the left-wing – their victory had been swift, and the losses were minimal. Only two men had fallen from the Special Forces unit, 10 from Nakatane's unit, and 11 from Gosankyo's.

If considered purely from the standpoint of numbers, the battle had not been close in the least – they had completely crushed the numerically superior force. But only those who were not present would dare to say such a thing. They had teetered right upon the edge of defeat – and their defeat would have been an absolute one. They would have been massacred, unable to defend themselves.

It was a gamble that Oda had employed, but a terrifying one. It was to the point where Gengyo could not take too much heart in their victory, for if Nobunaga had been present, and able to direct his units in the midst of battle, then he was unsure whether they could have gained the upper hand.

He did not share such doubts with the others, and instead smiled as they congratulated each other on the victory.

"It was truly an honour to fight by your side, Niwa-san!"

Gosankyo announced, placed a firm hand upon Nakatane's shoulder as he looked the man in the eye. His arm was still quivering, as his body was in shock. It seemed the adrenaline had still not worn off, nor had the fear, but the joy of victory overwhelmed the two, and he did not hold back.

"Aye, you did well, Gosankyo-san. I could not think of a better man for your role."

Nakatane returned genuinely. His fight was greatly helped by Gosankyo's swift assistance.

"You give me too much honour – I could certainly think of a better man."

He turned his gaze toward Gengyo, who was still in thought.

"Miura-san, it is to my eternal fortune that it is you who directed us today. That… That sight, of men… slitting their own throats. It shames me to admit, I lost the stomach to fight after I saw that…"

The young man smiled lightly in return.

"I think we all did. It was indeed a monstrous ploy – but we destroyed it. You and your men should take solace in that, and not allow anything to stand in your way in future."

"Aye… Aye! I will... Thank you."

He nodded rolling the words inside his head, suddenly feeling the need to thank the young man. Gengyo for his part, raised an eyebrow, surprised, but he made no comment as the Gosankyo bowed and returned to his men.

SLAP

An old hand made it's way to his shoulder, and he turned around.

"Jikouji-san."

He noted, identifying the man behind him.

"Well done today, lad. I can see that you have not slacked off in your learning of strategy. You've been reading the scrolls Nakatane sent you?"

"Yeah, they're pretty interesting."

"He still flipped out a bit today, though, eh? I think that might be the first time I've seen you, angry lad."

Nakatane commented, joining in the conversation.

"Aye… I did get a little fired up. But it seems it was no different for you, Niwa-san."

"True. I got a bit pissed off. For the same reason as you, I think?"

"Oda?"

"Right, Oda. It pissed me off to think we'd lose to a man who wasn't even on the field."

Nakatane confirmed his thoughts to be similar to that of Gengyo.

"Aye. The men were pretty terrified. But it will do them good. I doubt we'll have to worry about routing any time in the future."

"How do you know it was ordered by Oda? They could have had a commander among them."

Almost at the same time, Nakatane and Gengyo refuted Jikouji's suggestion.

"No, the Elite guard-"

"No, they were too-"

They spoke over the top of each other.

"You go first, Niwa-san."

The man nodded.

"They had to be men of extraordinary discipline to take their lives for their master. It had to be a member of the Oda's elite guard."

Gengyo nodded, agreeing. And soon Jikouji was nodding his understanding, wondering why he had not seen that beforehand.

"I suppose with age, I grow slower."

He muttered, a little unhappy.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Jikouji-san. It was just a guess."

Gengyo said, attempting to comfort him. But in the eyes of the older man, it was worse been comforted by someone so young.

"You better go and speak to your men lad, no doubt they're eager to get some rest."

Agreeing with what the old man said, he bowed, and made his way toward where his men were waiting, sharing excited conversation of the battle.

"And here he is! The man that scares those runts so much that they'd rather fight demons than deal with his anger!"

Rokkaku shouted boisterously waving his spear to get Gengyo's attention.

"I don't think they were frightened of me…"

The young man protested, though he was smiling for he knew the big man to be joking. He was almost double his age – being somewhere in his late thirities - and yet he was so child-like and playful in his mannerisms that it was impossible to dislike him.

"I was! Hahaha!"

He said, laughing loudly.

"Me too!"

Sasaki shouted, joining in.

"Alright! Well, another job well done today, fellas. I'm proud of you."

"Y'know, I'm his dad? Crazy, right?"

Morohira said loudly in Rokkaku's ear almost rendering Gengyo's praise null. He shook his head lightly at their humour, but still smiled in amusement, as he lead them back to where the Imagawa army was camped, and helped them unload and set up the tents.

It was only as he worked on setting up camp that he realized how tired he was. Dark had already fallen, but he rarely grew so tired, and had always been used to living only on the smallest amount of sleep. But today's battle had drained him to the point where it was a little unsettling, and he ended up retiring to his tent before his men.

He sat there, contemplating fiercely. This was the first taste he had of Nobunaga's might, and it left him unsettled how off guard he had been caught.

'…I will not allow this to happen again.'

It was an obvious conclusion, and a simplistic one, especially for a man of his intelligence. But it was all he could say to comfort himself. He would remain cautious as they journeyed forward, and should the unexpected ever happen once more, he would not allow himself to be rattled, and would deal with it step by step, until the problem crumbled before him.

His men did not know of their commander's thoughts – they celebrated without reserve long into the night, as their leader proved once again that he was a man they could rely on.

…

…

The two fallen were honoured the next day in a funeral with the rest of the force's fallen comrades. Gosankyo joined them in honouring the departed. He was a respectable man, and he and Nakatane seemed to be getting on rather well.

The new closeness of the two armies was something that Gengyo took comfort in, as it in his eyes, it effectively doubled the number of men in which they had.

Imagawa sent them a chest of coin for their troubles, though it was delivered through the hands of one of his men. Inside, there was revealed to be 500 coins, which was split evenly amongst the two units. Again, Gengyo was given his share, and again he shared it amongst his men.

No one else amongst the twelve thousand strong army seemed to care what had occurred on the field that day, nor did any of the men tell them of it. They had come perilously close to complete annihilation – yet the rest acted as if their victory was guaranteed. They could only laugh at their ignorance.

It was a tale that they would share amongst themselves for a very long time, and one that they would use to draw strength from in their moments of weakness. And as the army awoke in the morning and began its march deeper in Owari, those 300 did so as different men. More than anyone else, they were ready for whatever chaos Oda Nobunaga had in store for them. And chaos, he would bring.

Chapter 83: Matsudaira Motoyasu

They marched onwards for a good few days, and were entertained by some light skirmishes along the way. They took note as the landscape changed around them. From rolling hills, to thick forests, before they could once more step upon the flat plains.

They had yet to catch any sight of Oda's main force, and those amongst their large army liked to joke that Nobunaga had fled with his tail between his legs, and was on a ship somewhere, sailing to China, or Korea – anything to escape the might of their colossal force.

But as they saw scout after scout, those thoughts were revealed to be what they were: simple, childish dreams. Despite the challenged presented to him, the young Daimyo seemed to be refusing to go down without a fight.

They soon joined up with Matsudaira. The union of the two forces seemed more complicated than it might otherwise have been. Matsudaira – much to the distaste of Imagawa – held within his forces a large number of matchlock ashigaru, peasants who had been trained to wield one of the imported foreign firearms.

They were weapons of the future, but many reputable men still failed to recognise their power. Matsudaira was one of the few people with enough vision to see past their negatives. And negatives, there were plenty. The weapons were prone to misfire, and when they got wet, things became even more complicated. They took almost three times as long as a bow to reload, and sometimes, the small bullets could even bounce off armour, leaving the enemy unharmed.

But, they were effectively skilless. It only required basic training to teach peasants how to reload them, and then they simply needed to point the rifle straight, and the volley of bullets would decimate the enemy forces. The lack of skill required to operate them allowed him to recruit more of them in his forces than they could archers – the only limiting factor was coin. But of course, he still had 100 or so bowmen, in case of the special situations where bows were required.

"Ha! You still have your men carry around those little trinkets, Matsudaira."

Imagawa laughed, upon seeing so many of his men lugging the matchlock rifles on their shoulders.

"I would have more of them if I could."

Matsudaira refuted emotionlessly. He did not care for Imagawa's opinion. He was forced to serve as his retainer, due to the oppressive might of the Imagawa clan's military. But that was all he would do. He would simply serve.

"Hoh? You would waste more coin on such useless weapons? They're no good for anything, except a battle on the plains."

"It was a bullet that claimed Sakuma Morishige's life."

Matsudaira said pointedly. In the siege of Marune he had made use of concentrated musket fire throughout, battering the defending forces quite severely, even taking the commander's life with one of the rounds.

"Hoh?"

That made Imagawa pause for a second. He had not expected the matchlock units to have any use at all during the siege. The wood of the archer cage – which was designed to stop even arrows – would have protected them easily against those measly bullets. But he had failed to see the bigger picture. One thousand men were firing continuously, even if they were poorly trained, simple probability stated that some of the bullets would land. And they were able to fire further than archers, so the advantage was theirs.

"Pah! Luck. Wise men deal in reason, not in luck, Matsudaira! Remember that."

He said, attempting to counsel the man.

Gengyo almost choked hearing his words. It was perhaps a valid statement, but not applicable in the least to what they were talking about.

'How can you even… If you say, one man, firing a single bullet, has a 1 in 10 chance of hitting, fine. But, what about if ten men fire? Or one hundred men? Of course, some are going to hit! It's about "luck", perhaps, but more probability. You can't disregard it. '

He scolded himself for getting so fired up about an argument he was not even part of, and settled down. It was in that moment that he understood why Matsudaira had been so quick to join the Oda after Imagawa's defeat – the man was an imbecile, and not someone who's legacy was worth fighting for.

A few days prior, he might have been worried about Imagawa's lack of competence, but now he did not feel anxious in the least. The reason was twofold: he had confidence within his own plans, and he had seen that there were some highly capable men who were subordinated to the Daimyo, and who had much to gain from making him Shogun.

Matsudaira had simply shrugged in response to the Daimyo's attempt at wisdom, and rejoined his own clan by the rear.

They marched deep into a forested gorge called Dengaku-hazama, taking out some of Oda's scouts as they did so, and there they camped for a good few days. Because of the gorge, it was impossible to set up all the tents right next to each other, so the army ended up being split into smaller sections.

This splitting up of the forces had been part of the reason for Imagawa's defeat, historically. Oda had simply dealt with each camp separately, killing them off before they had the chance to warn the others.

But one should not discredit Imagawa's men for advising that he camp here. It provided good protection from nighttime arrow harassment, so it was rather suitable. None in their right mind would expect a frontal assault from the meagre force of 2,500. Even just a single one of their small encampments outnumbered them by almost three times!

It was on their first evening camping within the forest that the scouts returned with a report on where the Oda's main army lay. It caused quite the stir within the camp, as this was the first time in their entire campaign that they had even caught a glimpse of them.

They were informed that the army had set up camp within the temple of Zenshō-ji. It sat upon one of the steepest hills in the area. It might have been impossible to scale it without the aid of the single staircase that ran up it. But of course, they had fortified the encampment to the extreme, so any attempts at seizing their hill would be met with a great amount of bloodshed.

Oda's choice of location caught everyone off guard. They had expected him to lay low inside the fortress of Kiyosu, and try to weather the storm. That of course, would have been the sensible option – at least to them. And so, as Imagawa and his military advisors gathered within his tent to discuss the plan ahead, there were numerous disagreements.

"We crush them at dawn!"

Imagawa had announced straight away, looking forward to a straightforward battle after over a week of scurrying around, hunting down tiny forces. There was no thrill to it. And he could not enjoy the victories.

"…Begging your pardon, Daimyo-sama, but perhaps that might be a little rash."

A brave soul had attempted to be the first to refute him.

"Why? We're running out of supplies. The quicker we conquer this measily little province, the better our chances of capturing Kyoto will be!"

He spoke passionately, truly believing his words to be right. He had be schooled within the art of strategy throughout his youth, and well into his twentities. He had been tutored in it far longer than anyone else, and remember a great deal. But there was an unbridgeable gap between knowledge and application.

"Yes! Quite right Daimyo-sama, I fear we all might have overlooked that… However, I fear the cost of men required to conquer Zenshō-ji would not be worth it in the long run. Their position is too secure. We would have to offer up too many lives."

Someone else joined in, seizing the opportunity to praise his lord.

"Mmm… How many?"

Still confident, Imagawa pressed on, eager to set his plan in motion.

"Half, my lord, at least."

"…Did you say: half?"

"Yes, Daimyo-sama."

"…That's much too many."

Even he was able to reach that conclusion, and his mind went blank. He hated problems without straightforward solutions, and began to grow stressed, reaching for a tender salmon steak with his fingers, ignoring the chopsticks beside them.

He dangled it above his mouth, before lining it up perfectly, and fitting it all in at once. He clearly relished the flavour, as his face was an undeniable mask of pleasure.

He greedily licked the grease off his fingers, before gesturing for the men to continue.

"Ahem… I propose that we wait it out. They will be needing supplies. We can rob those supplies, and raid surrounding villages, and then, when their men are weak from starvation, we will pluck the weed up by its roots."

A suggestion was given by an elderly member of the group, who the rest clearly held a high opinion of, as they voiced their agreement.

"Here, here! A fine decision!"

It was not to the Daimyo's liking, however. As there was one thing he clearly understood was required for success on the campaign: speed. The thought of waiting made him anxious. It would give Kyoto time to bolster its defences, and call in its allies. It would also mean their supplies dwindled.

"Is there nothing else?"

Matsudaira knew what he would do, but offered no solution to the council. The last thing he wanted was for this man to become Shogun. Instead, he sat there, hand playing with his short, pointed goatee, as he looked to be the very epitome of a man in thought.

'I wonder if a duck could outrun a chicken…'

Was foremost on his mind.

His average face distracted you from his brilliance, and his shaved head showed his lack of regard for fashion. He was a man of his own heart, but a man whose feet were tied. It was how he had to be, in order to deal with the crushing helplessness of his servitude to such a pathetic individual as Imagawa.

"It seems the council has no other solutions to offer, my lord. But fear not! We will do our best to conclude matters quickly."

The old councilman said, having looked round to see if anyone else was willing to speak.

"Beauty in harmony, is it?"

Imagawa spoke, reciting another piece of his knowledge in an attempt to give off some glimmer of intelligence.

Matsudaira had to physically restrain himself from sighing. There was little worse than a foolish man who could not recognise his own foolishness.

"Quite right my lord, poetic as ever!"

A councilman praised.

'Oh, how you crows chirp and chirp, craving more gold and more power.'

Matsudaira lamented internally. If not for his clan, he would have taken his life long ago to escape from this mundane reality. And what was worse still, was the others refused to represent themselves honestly, and so he sat in a circle playing an endless game where the snake continually professed itself to be a wise old owl.

He might have felt sorry for Imagawa, considering how almost all his subordinates were using him. But the man was so blown up on arrogance that it was all but impossible to feel anything for him other than disgust.

Chapter 84: Dengaku-hazama

The men spent their days in celebration, raising toasts to the various skirmishes that they had won, and the inevitable victory that was to come over Oda Nobunaga. He was trapped like a rat on that high hill of his, and in the meantime, they merely helped themselves to all the supplies that were delivered his way.

But the Special Force unit did not share that sense of victory, and felt no cause to celebrate. Not that they could have anyway, for their leader knew what was to come. He put them through training daily, keeping them on their toes, making them ever sharper.

Nakatane had his main unit join them, then, around late morning, he joined them himself, practising his duelling and raising his stamina amongst the rest. The ashigaru units struggled to keep up with the Special Forces unit from their lack of endurance, but within a couple of days, they started to make progress.

Their one on one fighting skill was showing good improvement as well, as from the repeated practise they started to get a good grasp of the basic techniques.

CLCK… CLCK CLCK

The sound of musket fire rang through the forest at various points through the days, as Matsudaira continued training his men also. To him, this campaign was just another step that would improve the forces under him, and so he cared not for all the whispers of victory that passed through camp.

Gengyo felt a little envious at the sound, as for a while he'd wanted to employ some matchlock units of his own, but had lacked the coin. But now he held more than enough coin, yet he did not have the opportunity to spend it.

He redirected Togashi's stabbing strike off to the side, before stooping low, and aiming a strike of his own toward the man's leg. Dodging the strike, Togashi lifted his leg and kicked out towards him. The unexpected nature of the attack would have rendered it a success against nearly all the opponents he was ever to face.

Yet, he had spent a good amount of time training with the young commander, and by now, the man was more than wise to his tricks, so instead of panicking as the leg came towards him, he instead drove in, seizing the opportunity where his opponent was off guard, and securing a firm strike on his torso.

"Ow…"

Togashi complained lightly, conceding the point.

"You're getting better and better Miura-san."

He said approvingly. Their duels were more akin to chess matches now, as they were almost evenly matched in skill. And so, both men found their matches ever more enjoyable, knowing it could go either way.

The ashigaru unit that had gathered round to watch the tutorial clapped enthusiastically at the high-speed fight.

"Woh!"

Some gasped, impressed.

"As you see, fighting is not limited to the weapon held in your hands. Togashi-kun almost defeated me by using a kick to set me off guard. So when you fight with your spear, should the enemy grow close, instead of simply panicking and attempting to regain distance, kick out at him. Practise that now."

He instructed, as they filtered off in a line of pairs, holding their spears. One side resumed the role of someone who had slipped past the length of the spear, and was about to claim the other's life. Whilst the other side attempted to defend themselves with kicks.

The Special Forces unit were engaged in duels of the sword. By now they needed no instruction. They knew better than anyone else where their weaknesses lay, and only through practice could they seek to rectify them.

Aritada and Yoritomo sparred seriously, circling each other, looking for the perfect strike, before lunging in, using the full length of their blade, attempting to secure the point. But that almost never worked. They were too even in regards to skill, and whatever strikes they tried would be blocked at least once.

Aritada's lunge was countered brilliantly by Yoritomo, who redirected the blade away from his body, whilst continuing the downward motion, sliding his bokken down Aritada's bokken, aiming for his hands.

Panicked by the assault on his fingers, Aritada dropped his weapon. But it had been instilled in him that a fight was never over until one of them was dead. So instead of claiming defeat, and conceding the point, he went low with speed, tackling his friend to the ground.

His arms were taken control of, so Yoritomo could not bring his weapon high enough to stab his assailant. Instead, he made the decision to free up his hands, and discard his weapon, before wrestling Aritada for the topmost position.

As it happens he could not secure it, however. Aritada had his shoulders firmly pinned to the ground, and he was unable to move at all. Had this been a battlefield, he would have punched Yoritomo until the only thing that filled his vision was his own blood. Both knew that, and so, he admitted defeat.

"Your win. 2-2 now. Let's go!"

They had improved leaps and bounds since that first sparring session that Gengyo had seen all those weeks ago. And now, instead of fighting as children who practised the sword, or simply as swordsmen, they fought as warriors. They had accepted their units philosophy that a weapon was no more than a tool, and were able to do everything necessary to bring their opponent to his knees.

Jikouji and Nakatane were also gathered on this side, duelling alongside the rest of the men.

"Ha! You've grown slow, old man!"

Nakatane mocked, as lunged in, taking control of Jikouji's sword with his own, and forcing him backwards.

"Pah! This is why you were such a poor student! You mistake speed for skill!"

Jikouji called back, easily untangling his sword, before sending a powerful strike against the wood of Nakatane's weapon. It was a strike that held behind it the intention to kill – though it had been aimed at the weapon – and so it had a good deal of power. The vibration caused by such a blow was not insignificant, and it took a great deal of effort for the other man to maintain a hold upon his weapon.

As he was preoccupied with not dropping his sword, Jikouji's blade made its way toward the flesh of Nakatane's neck.

"Do you see? Skill defeats speed once more."

Jikouji said, a little too proudly.

"Hmph. Don't get so ahead of yourself, old man. It's only 3-2! I'm still in the lead!"

It was good for them to have someone to duel against. That was the case for almost everyone in the unit – they all had someone of similar skill, who they could pit their wits against, and fight to claim victory.

Yet there was one man that did not. And to duel him would basically be an act of violence against yourself. As such, very few people volunteered to be his partner, and he had to travel up the line, inflicting punishment on one man, before moving to the next.

Rokkaku bravely took a beating from Morohira before yielding.

"Good fight, Miura-san! It's your win!"

He called out rapidly, as the bokken sailed toward his shoulder.

"Heh, alright. Good fight, Rokkaku!"

He said heartily, before muttering under his breath.

"10 down… 40 to go."

It was not even something that he had made up to stroke his own pride. In that morning, he had genuinely won duels against 10 different members of the Special Forces unit, and sought wins against the rest before the day ended.

There was one man he had been begging to fight for a good time – Togashi. But it had never happened, for Togashi was busy duelling Gengyo more often than not, and the young commander did not feel like slowing his progress by letting his sparring partner get bruised up by his own father.

In the end, Morohira almost always had to resort back to Masaatsu, who was more than happy to spar with him, despite the beating that he was bound to take.

"Hah! How was that?"

Morohira asked of Masaatsu, who was struggling to breathe after being winded by one of his opponent's sudden punches.

"Surprising… lets… go… again."

He had spent more time duelling with Morohira than the rest, so Gengyo held a curiosity about what his brother's true skill level was. He was able to defend against their fathers blows for a time, but he seemed unwilling to duel anyone but Morohira. Was that because he felt that fighting anyone else would be a waste of time, because he knew his skill to be higher? It was a good question.

On the battlefield, he was covered in blood just as much as anyone else, and Gengyo had never seen him return heavily wounded. But from that alone, it was difficult to judge his skill.

It was odd, though. Morohira wielded his weapon with the chaotic style of a bloodthirsty beast, and in training with him, one would expect for Masaatsu to do the same. But after their numerous bouts, the young man stuck more and more toward convention, wasting less and less movements. And the crazy thing was, it worked. There were times when he put even their father in a bad spot.

Kitajo was a similarly fierce little puppy. He had started to put some muscles on his arms, and so was no longer as skinny or frail as he once was. But he could still definitely be described as slender. He stood smaller than most of the unit, but he approached training with more than enough dedication to make up for his lack of physical power.

Now, after their weeks of practice, he was able to duel with some of the powerhouses like Sasaki quite confidently, winning a good amount of the time. He had learned that dealing with their strength head-on was foolish, and in watching Jikouji, he had understood the power of controlling an enemies blade rather than confronting it.

And so, as Sasaki swung toward him with an over-head strike, utilising all the power he held within his body, instead of seeking to block it, or to dodge it, he chose to control it. He stepped slightly out of the way of its path, before sending a strike of his own on top of the blade, putting into the wood far more force than his opponent's arms were ready to handle, and rendering him off balance. Then he simply poked the big man's chest with his bokken, and claimed victory.

It seemed lately that Gengyo no longer needed to pay much attention to the progress of his men, for they sought progress fiercely themselves. He more than understood their motivation to get stronger, but it still had caught him off guard to see all of them become so taken by learning the various martial arts.

Nevertheless, he was happy with their current state, though he knew there was still plenty of room for improvement. He only hoped that they were ready. Ready to face Oda, and ready to perform as he expected them. For when the battlefield came, it would be unlike anything they had faced yet. There would be no straightforward orders. No simple fight and win strategies. It would be chaos.

He would be asking much of them, he knew, but he dared not leave their role to someone else. It was far too important.

Chapter 85: A Storm

Gengyo did not know exactly on which day the battle would occur, so as they sat camp within the gorge of Dengaku-hazama, he did not let his guard down for a single moment. He did not allow his men to relax either. From dusk until early evening, they were fully armoured, and training, and so they would be ready to deal with any threat at any point in time.

The June weather was vicious in its heat, making the rest of the men liable to stay inside their tents for the majority of the day, avoiding the worst of the sun. Their time was spent drinking, and celebrating. It was the kind of behaviour you'd expect to find inside a tavern – not at a place that was soon to become a battlefield.

Scouts were always stationed, keeping an eye out for any movement of the Oda army, waiting for the moment those banners began to descend that steep hill of theirs.

Of course, Oda was well aware of all the eyes on him. And when he had decided to move – according to the history books – they were not even made aware that he had gone. He covered an army of strawmen in armour, and planted their banners firmly in the ground, before seemingly disappearing into the mist.

But what you might call magic, is simply a trick. And a good magic trick involved misdirection. And as it happened, the gods were seemingly on his side.

"The sky darkens."

Gengyo commented, as he instructed the men through various drills.

Huge grey clouds clawed their way across the blue sky, sullying the beautiful colour. In a country, on the other side of the world, such a sight would have been lamented, for all they knew were grey skies and drizzly rain. Yet here, when the heat was as cruel as it was, the announcement that there would be a little rain was met with cheers, for it meant things were likely to cool down.

The rest of the men looked up, just in time to see a cloud reach out over the sun.

"Looks like rain."

Niiro muttered. He was not as much of a fan of the wetness as the rest, and did not relish the idea of walking around in sodden clothing.

The sky flashed with a bright light, before immediately growing dark again. And then, a few seconds later, the low growl of an angry dog by the name of Thunder was uttered.

The men knew themselves to be in for a storm, but did their best to ignore it as the young commander had not given the order for them to go inside. Seemingly, he wished for them to continue.

The first fat droplet hit the ground heavily, instantly being absorbed greedily by the dry, cracked earth.

To them, it was merely rain, but to him, it signified a far bolder plan that was being set in motion.

'So, your advance begins, does it Nobunaga?'

He thought, as a smile begin to decorate his face. A certain thrill was present in his heart for what he knew would be an exciting fight. It would be an odd one as well, for he commanded far fewer men than Oda Nobunaga – but he supposed, in all, he might be said to have the advantage as the army he was a part of was truly ginormous. Yet, he could not rely on them in the least.

His true advantage lay in his knowledge of when, and how the attack would be carried out. He was not aware of the day, but he was certainly aware of the conditions. A thunderstorm on one day in June, as Imagawa and his army sat camp within the gorge of Dengaku-hazama. And each of them had been met.

In waiting, and standing siege, they had allowed the smaller army to play the role of a sneaky cat. So, was that the wrong decision? Perhaps. But Gengyo did not concern himself with whether it was the wrong or right decision – he had no say in that. He simply had to act to make that plan work.

"Are we going to keep training in this, lad?"

Nakatane asked, seeing the rain begin to come down heavier.

"Aye, it will do us good."

Gengyo responded, joining among the ranks of men, showing that he was not about to cower in the face of measly water.

They accepted his decision, and put more heart into training, now that the young man had framed it as a test of their character. No man wished to be the first to fall in the face of simple drizzle.

And then the great bladder of the clouds seemed to contract, and the rainfall became heavier, more akin to rifle fire. The droplets were thick as well, and within a mere few minutes of standing there, they were soaked.

It was uncomfortable, but it was necessary. He would rather be soaked now than dead later.

The men gritted their teeth, and did not complain, even as the cold started to seep in. The cold inspired by the elements was nothing compared to the freezing chill inflicted by fear.

Not that their complaints would have been heard had they tried to speak them. The rainfall was far too loud for that. They were a sight to behold, as they stood there, all that remained of the initial 150. The Special Forces donned their black armour and helmets, which looked even more fearsome with the droplets of rain that ran off it.

As one, they thrust out with their spears – not a single one of them lagging behind – they sliced through the fat globules of water with authority, unflinching as the droplets began to run down their faces and into their eyes. Men, and commanders, stood as one, bearing the weight of the discomfort together.

It was symbolic, but not in a way they could understand. It was meaningful – extremely so – to the larger picture.

If Oda were to burst from the trees then and there, and see such men waiting to face him, it would have caused even him to pause. Even the grand unifier of Japan would have to take a deep breath, and calm himself, faced with such unwavering discipline.

They did not know it, but they were already facing off against an enemy. On the other side of the forest, by now, Oda's men would be standing in position, waiting. They thought this to be mere practise, mere drills, but they were already engaged in combat.

It was a waiting game, and two commanders – very different in origin, and very different in the number of the men they commanded – faced off, waiting for the same signal.

Civilized man had, from the beginning of time, sought to subdue nature, to make it bend toward their will. Yet here they were, waiting. The outcome of the battle dependent entirely upon the signals of nature.

"AWOO!"

They thrust out once more, splintered an imaginary army to pieces.

His heart began to beat faster as he felt the slightest change within the weight of the rainfall. So slight, that he wondered whether he had imagined it. His grip on the spear tightened, as time slowed, and his mind was filled with anticipation.

"Oda-sama, our time draws near! I shall ready the men."

A man spoke to his leader from within the darkness of the forest. A young man, in his mid-twenties nodded. This was likely the biggest battle of his career, and one would expect to see a trace of nervousness upon that youthful face of his.

But instead, as he led one of the most ambitious military charges in history, he wore a mask of stoicism that seemed like the epitome of reliability. Not all the men who fought under him today did so willingly, but even those that disliked the man would have to bow low – very low indeed – to truly give his courage its due.

He sat upon his brown mare, unmoving, as the water drizzled down his face. In one hand, he held the hilt of his sword, and in the other, he embraced the golden broach of the Oda flower, that his father had gifted him on his death bed.

He acknowledged the beating of his heart. He acknowledged it's rapid pace. He acknowledged his nervousness. And to each, he did not resist. He did not try to rid himself of the anxious quiver. He merely accepted them. He knew them to be symptoms of a healthy body.

'What would I be if I did not feel nervousness, right now, in this moment?'

He thought to himself, feeling the rainfall begin to lessen. The vibrations upon his armour grew fewer in number, and his grasp upon his sword grew tighter. Waiting under his command were 2,500 men, each ready to move forward should he give them the word. It was a responsibility that few could bear.

'Father… The Oda clan will not die today.'

He made that firm promise, and unsheathed his sword from its scabbard, raising it high into the air, directing his men forward, as he spurred his horse into motion.

Soon, he was moving. Time went so slowly that it seemed remarkable that he was so suddenly in motion. His body felt odd, apprehensive of the danger ahead, and it took a conscious effort for him to calm his mind.

His mounted men followed behind, swiftly, whilst men armed with matchlocks and katana made haste to bring up the rear.

They charged through the forest, nearing the narrow gorge, expertly swerving to avoid any trees that got in their way.

Gengyo heard the sound of approaching hooves, and his smile would have widened, but what he had been waiting for had still yet to arrive.

'…'

His mind went black. Everything should have been set in motion perfectly. Had he judged their character incorrectly? No. He hadn't, surely not. Still, the anxiety remained, as the sound of galloping hooves became audible to the rest of the men, who were silently practising with their spear.

Had they not been engaged in their drunken antics, the whole camp might have heard it too.

"…Hooves."

Nakatane breathed lightly, wondering whether they belonged to friend or foe. Seeing the expression etched upon the young retainers face, he thought it might well be the latter.

"Miura… Do my ears deceive me?"

"They do not, Niwa-san. Those are the hooves of the approaching Oda army, 2500 strong. And yet we, a mere 130, stand in their way."

The men heard his words, and gulped. But they did not show cowardice – the opposite was done. They held their spears ever more firmly, resuming the position that they had spent the entire afternoon practising. The bow ashigaru assumed their position behind the spearmen, aiming their bows at the ready.

"How are we meant to deal with this… The rest are not prepared for battle. We'll be slaughtered."

He analysed the current situation, and reached that conclusion, speaking it calmly.

His young retainer did not reply, and soon light was cast upon the approaching men, and a mass of armed warriors were revealed.

They neared the edge of the treeline, and the Niwa army held their position firmly. It would be a lie to say they did not feel fear, but none gave way to thoughts of fleeing.

Fmmmm…FWOOSSSHHHHHH

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

The sound of a line of oil giving birth to flame. The sound of caskets of gunpowder exploding one after another. The sound of the forest becoming a field of a hell.

"…With chaos, Niwa-san."

Gengyo whispered, his words drowned out by the chaotic noises, as the fire reflected off his eyes, and he caught sight of the leading man. Their gazes met, and with a wall of fire between them, Miura Tadakata became acquainted with the Daimyo of the Owari province, and leader of the Oda clan – Oda Nobunaga.

Chapter 86: The Start to Chaos

The horsemen barely managed to reign themselves in, lest they be engulfed by the flame before them. The fire had no doubt surprised him, but he did not remain stationary for long, and quickly lead his men left, searching for the point where the wall ended, ready to demolish whatever force lay in his way.

The sounds of the explosion drew the attention of the men in camp, and the wall of fire rendered them rather panicked. Many men ran about camp, stumbling, looking for their armour, as they cried out maniacally.

"The enemy is here! They've set fire to the forest!"

The attention of the commanders would be caught quickly, but Gengyo could not remain stationary as they went about organising the troops. The forest was vast, and it was highly likely that some of the other encampments had not heard the noises.

Oda was right in judging that the fire did not extend the whole length of the forest – that would have been impossible. But still, Isabella performed her role admirably. It had taken a good deal of preparation, but she had chosen to believe what the young man had promised her. After all, he carried out the first part of their deal as promised – leaving the jar of opium exactly where he had said he would.

With a horse from the stable, she had ridden. Within days she arrived inside the land Owari, and had set about her task with haste.

The first few days she simply spent observing – identifying any men of note. And then, she selected her target: an officer under Nobunaga's command, but one that was prone to drinking far more than he could tolerate reasonably.

And then, on that very same night, she had made her way into his tent, and lay there on his bed as he stumbled in drunk. He had rubbed his eyes, wondering whether he was dreaming, as she lay there, naked, her curvaceousness fully admirable. She wore an innocent look on her face, and blushed, as though she were a maiden.

Taken in by her timidness, he had let his guard down. He was a person who was prone to the seeking of pleasure, and with such a beauty before him and his mind a drunken mess, he did not ask too many questions, assuming it was a gift from one of his fellow officers.

He had undressed hurriedly, and rushed into bed, his hands reaching out to touch her. But she skillfully guided them away, and put a finger to his lips. It was then that she revealed the brown powder, as she emptied it seductively upon her tongue.

He watched her, entranced, and as she leaned in to kiss him, he returned it passionately. Before he knew what had happened, all the powder had coated the inside of his mouth.

She – as she used one arm to cover her nipples – reached down, offering him a glass of wine. The most beautiful woman offering him his favourite drink of all? He was not likely to refuse. He took the glass from her, those eyes not leaving her body for a second, and he emptied the cup greedily, swallowing the opium in the process.

It did not take long before his mind was overwhelmed by the effect of the powder – especially in such a dangerously large quantity – and from then on, he effectively became her property. She lead him on just enough so that he would not grow angry, and offered him more opium as he requested it. But not once did she have to give herself up to him.

His addiction toward the substance was fast, and his addiction for her was almost immediate. She stayed hidden in his tent throughout the day, and as he came home on a night, she welcomed him warmly, as though they had been married for years.

Not wanting to displease her, he had told her almost everything that she had asked, and was rewarded with more opium. And if he ever felt hesitance in offering her some of the more sensitive information - that he had to swear secrecy over - such as when they planned to attack the Imagawa camp, she would guide his eyes towards hers and ask.

"Do you not love me?"

With a face so sad that it could break even a statues heart. And with that, he would always relent. It was pointless upsetting her over something so trivial. She was his lover – a playful kitten, and a bundle of innocence. She merely wished to know how his day had gone, and he had insulted her with distrust.

"Ah, forgive me sweetling… I grow tired from the day… I forget myself."

And like that she had captured his heart, taking from him all that she required. Oil, whenever she had asked for it. He asked no questions, even if an entire jug full disappeared in just one evening, when she claimed it was just to help the fire start because the wood had grown wet.

Gunpowder, too. She demanded vast amounts of that. So much so that he had to struggle to get it. But she claimed it was an important ingredient in making the opium that he loved so much, and had to be burned in large quantities to make such quality powder.

But what did it matter to him? He had all that she needed within his grasp. It was his honour to reward her, as she rewarded him. It was a beautiful relationship, he felt, and they were clearly destined to be together for a long time.

Whenever the day was long, she would provide him with a feast for his eyes, and take all his stresses away with the powdery opium that he grown to love almost as much as her.

And then, one morning, as he came home, she was gone. Her, amongst a few other things. His seal, and his horse, and his carriage. They had all disappeared on the same day that the love of his life had.

He searched endlessly for her, until the early morning, only to come home, his heart torn to pieces. Upon his pillow, he saw a single bowl – one that he had completely ignored earlier – and in it, he recognized a familiar powder. With shaking hands he had consumed more of the precious powder than she had ever given to him, and been transported into a land of bliss, before he promptly breathed his last, and died.

With his horses and with his carriage, she had loaded up all the gunpowder and oil she had extorted from him. And, covered in a cloak as she was, no one called out to her. The seal was merely an extra reassurance in case things took a turn for the worse. But on the road to the temple, as they were, the sight of carriages moving in and out of the encampment was not uncommon.

She had set up all that she needed to within a day, and had waited, away from prying eyes, as the forces of Imagawa started to enter the forest. She did all this for a mere promise. A promise given to her by a man that she did not know. But it was the only hope she had, and so she had grasped the lifeline had thrown to her with both hands and did all that was asked of her.

Oddly, she did not feel any bitterness toward her task. Quite the contrary – she found herself enjoying it. It had been years since she had moved about so freely within the outside world, and because she did so with a clear purpose in mind, she was able to appreciate it to the fullest.

Even as she tormented that pathetic man who could not see past her beautiful appearance, she did not feel displeasure. Quite the contrary, she enjoyed playing with him, and wrapping his pitiful existence around her finger.

The only time she began to feel frustration was when she had to wait. She counted off the days upon her fingers, having remembered what the officer had told her. That, and one more piece of information – one given to her by Gengyo – was all she had available. Gengyo had told her that the attack would be held in the afternoon. That was all he himself knew. There was no exact date.

And when the destined day had come, as noon came around, the heavens had opened, and all the pent up rain had poured down. She had taken cover under the trees and watched anxiously. Had that man who predicted that it would be noon… was he wrong? She did not dare to light the line of oil yet. The fire would be unable to spread under the force of the rain.

Instead, she had been forced to wait, stressed to her limits. And as the rain finally died down, she had returned back to the now-watery oil path, and the now rather sodden crates of gunpowder, and to them, she had held a torch, almost half-heartedly, not believing that they would light.

But she had underestimated the combustibility of the black liquid, and even yelped in surprise as it roared quickly into a vicious flame, and that flame soon spread all down the path that she had prepared. There were loud gunpowder explosions along the way, causing her to flinch.

She watched the chaos with a degree of triumph, wondering whether it had been on time. But as she felt the drumming of hooves upon the hard earth, she knew that her timing had been just right, and she recalled his final order.

'…When that is complete, head as far away from the battlefield as possible and…'

She did not need to be told twice. The bedroom was more her domain than the battlefield.

"I have performed my duty, young man. If this was all a trick, then I will take great pleasure in making the rest of your life difficult."

She spoke to the wind, as she mounted the horse and rode away, leaving the chaos of the smoke and fire to the men.

As Oda Nobunaga galloped down the wall of flame, he only just missed the sight of her fleeing figure. He rounded it with haste, sparing a glance backwards to see whether his men had kept up. They had. But the infantry was lagging behind.

Further east he saw a camp. One that was not as busy with activity as the one that he had just left behind. With a predatory smile, he set their path toward it.

'Even if a traitor attempts to thwart my plans – it shall not be that easy.'

He said to himself. Such a perfectly timed wall of fire positioned exactly where they intended to attack? That was information only privy to some of his closest men. It was undoubtedly the act of treachery.

He stormed toward the camp, leading the charge with his sword drawn. His eyes watered from all the smoke that had stung them, but his vision remained clear.

A drunken man danced with an arm around his friend.

"Toooo theeee goddsss weeee giveee thanksssss… forrrr annn easssyyy victorryyy… let's dance…"

They sang. He felt a slight vibration beneath his feet, and turned back in time to see Oda's sharp blade creeping toward his neck.

SLURP

And like that first blood was drawn. The ill-prepared men screamed out loudly in dismay as they were cut down by the sudden force that descended upon them. Though their screams and shouts were loud, no commander emerged to their aid – assuming it was merely the noise of men heartily celebrating, as they had been all throughout the day.

The Oda forces partook in the buffet of blood, not spending too long on each group of men, they tore swiftly through the camp, cutting throat after throat, and hacking men to pieces.

Chapter 87: East

"Fuck lad, they're going to attack the eastern camp!"

Nakatane cursed, a little panicked upon seeing them head east. To the west, Matsudaira was camped, and they had heard those men training for the majority of the day. They would be ready to deal with the sudden charge.

But eastwards was a camp under Asahina Yasutomo, one of Imagawa's retainers. And if they were anything like their Daimyo, the men will have spent most of the day celebrating, and be unarmed now, in the late afternoon.

They had successfully defended their own camp, with the wall of fire. That also happened to be the camp in which Imagawa was stationed, as Nobunaga seemed to know beforehand. That meant that absolute victory was already torn from the man's grasp. Imagawa, and his 6000 men, would certainly be armed and ready to confront them by the time they returned.

But the problem lay in how to warn the western camp of the imminent threat.

"Even if we go now, we will not make it in time."

He calmy responded, though internally he was complimenting Nobunaga's quick decision making, and also his luck. Had he simply went left instead of right, he would have met his end via Masaadaira's muskets.

"I know! But what can we do?"

He was panicking, as were the men. It was a completely unexpected development for them. They had been prepared to stake their lives in defending, but now, with all the chaos that had suddenly sprung up, and the fire that grew progressively larger in its might, they did not know what they had to do. They were disoriented, and that was dangerous.

"We leave it. Instead, we will head to Okabe's camp, and warn them."

It was the closest of the four camps to Asahina's, and so it was likely that Oda would head there first, for Oda's objective was clear: kill as many enemies as possible whilst they still hold the element of surprise.

Nakatane blinked. It was an extremely cold decision to make, but he knew it to be the correct one. There was no chance that they would be able to make it in time. The horses were far faster than they were. And so, it would be far more effective – and have a far higher chance of success – if they went straight to Okabe's.

The camp lay northeast of Asahina's, so it was actually rather close to Imagawa's, but was inaccessible directly due to the blaze.

And so they ran. With that decision, they were effectively leaving 8000 men to die. It was a decision more based on reason than morality, and so was one that few people would dare to make.

The pandemonium that had been orchestrated with the help of the fire was of a scale that even Gengyo could not predict. Despite the intense rainfall, the scorching flames consumed the woodland avidly, and spread to other parts of the forest at a terrifying pace.

It was likely that by now, other camps had seen the flames – and had they not, it should be considered rather shameful – but still the commanders likely would not judge it to be enough to mobilize all their forces for deployment.

The heat of the flames was intense, and the smoke was harsh on their eyes and lungs. They were glad to be able to part from it when the stream meandered and they were able to jump over it, heading closer towards Okabe's camp, led by their young strategist.

The Special Forces members had disregarded their bows – there had not been time to retrieve them, and time was most certainly of the essence. They merely held their spears, and their swords swung at their waists.

Luckily, the distance to Okabe's camp was short, and they were able to sprint it without growing too tired. Before they even arrived, they begun shouting out, warning the celebrating men of the great danger they were in.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! INFORM THE COMMANDER OF ENEMY FORCES!"

They shouted, barely catching the attention of the drunken rabble.

Soon they burst into camp, and the men were forced to pay them mind. Even in their drunken stupor, they could tell that these men were deadly serious, and the news they carried was believed to be true. They scrambled about madly, doing all they could to prepare before the inevitable attack.

Men of higher ranks overheard, and moved towards Okabe's tent to warn him. A few minutes later, the man arrived, though still unarmed, and not in the least ready to deliver orders. When he caught sight of the fully armoured Niwa men, and his men who was in a frenzy to arm themselves, he finally began to pay more attention, realizing that this was far more serious than it first appeared.

Action was being taken, but it was far too slow for Gengyo's liking, and he bit his lips nervously, frustrated that there was nothing he could do except wait.

Elsewhere, Oda continued causing carnage. His infantry units joined the fray, and the complete annihilation of the eastern encampment drew near.

The men set fire to tents as they went, and killed anyone within range. Nobunaga's sword arm ached from the amount of strikes he had delivered, yet his heart bore no weight for the amount of lives that he had claimed. In his eyes, this was still far from enough.

A mere eight thousand. And they were being dealt with so slowly. This was not the way the plan was meant to go. They were meant to have all the time they needed to eradicate one camp, before moving onto the next.

But because of that fire, because of that traitor, and because of that man in black who had caught sight of him, he knew that Imagawa and his camp would already be near-completed in arming themselves, and would very soon engage in a hunt for his blood.

It was a race, in his mind, whoever could reach the encampment first. He betted only his himself.

SPURT

A spear drove into the side of his mare, causing the poor beast to rear, throwing him from the saddle, before collopasing to the floor herself. Oda landed hard upon his bottom, though was able to get to his feet just in time to see the man who had dared to dismount him have his head struck from his shoulders.

"Daimyo-sama! Are you alright?"

One of his closest guardsmen called down to him, before dismounting from his horse, and offering to help Nobunaga on top of it. But his Daimyo waved his concerns aside. The large tent of the encampment's commander was just ahead – he would have to dismount in a few moments time anyway.

He stepped across the bodies – that littered the path to the white tent – without a hint of distaste. His focus was single-minded. He cared not for the small inconveniences and discomforts that threatened to come his way.

The majority of the corpses wore nothing but a kimono, and very few died with a weapon in hand. They were caught well and truly off guard, which in itself, was pitiful.

He felt anger towards the commander on their behalf. Where was he, when he heard their screams and shouts? Why was he not present upon the field of battle, even if it was simply to see himself and his men to the grave? There was no excuse for such cowardice, and before his pulled back the flap to the white tent, he reaffirmed to himself that he would show no mercy.

Yet inside was not the sight he had expected to see. He had imagined a man, half-naked, kneeling down on the floor, weeping in fear as he begged for forgiveness. But in here he saw an old man engaged in rather passionate lovemaking to a girl who was less than a quarter his age.

She moaned loudly, eyes half-closed, as he went about his work like a rabbit. It was only when he shoved his sword through the exposed back of the old man that either of them noticed his presence. He gasped, and stopped in the middle of his next thrust, face contorted with pain and confusion, as he turned his head round to meet the gaze of his killer.

It was only when she felt his warm blood dripping upon the soft flesh of her belly, did she open her eyes, and realize that the man who she had spent the past three years offering her body to was dead.

She screamed, seeing Nobunaga's bloody visage, and the cold steel of his blade poking out through the dead commander's chest.

He, in turn, simply regarded her with a cold stare, as he withdrew his weapon, and turned to leave. He held not grievances toward the women of the Imagawa clan, but nor would he stoop low to offer them comfort.

He exited the tent, and found a horse waiting for him to mount it, and his men were waiting loyally beside it, eager to hear his next command. He gave them not words, for they needed none. He instead leapt up onto the back of the pure white stallion, and clasped the reigns firmly, before spurring him onward, targeting the camp he knew to be nearest to here.

Dismayed by the camp member's sluggishness, Gengyo forced them to become faster.

"ALL WHO ARE ABLE, FOLLOW ME BACK TO IMAGAWA'S CAMP."

He led his men over, waiting for the rest to join them. Initially, he had thought they might be able to hold the encampment themselves, but too few of the men were armed and ready, and he knew Nobunaga might charge through at any second. If they were caught out then he would be putting his own men's lives at risk, and that was something he judged not to be worth it.

They sprinted back through the forest, a bulk of men following behind them. Some were only half-dressed, and shoeless, calling out in pain as they impaled the soft flesh of their feet on a rather sharp stick or stone.

Others were either less drunk or more disciplined, and hurtled after them fully armed, ready to do battle.

The fear they felt at seeing so many leave spurred the others onwards, urging them to move faster and catch up to the pack. If they were caught running when Oda attacked, then they would be cut to pieces, and any man with more than half a brain in his skull was well aware of it.

Okabe galloped on ahead with his guard, having quickly mounted and abandoned the camp.

Gengyo wanted to curse at his cowardice, but he had held doubts about the man from the start, and feared something like this would be done. It simply made him grateful that he made the choice he did, and left that dreaded camp behind.

The stream that they had leapt over so easily earlier proved to be some kind of pitfall for those that followed behind them, as many fell in, caught unawares, injuring themselves.

They soon caught sight of the blazing inferno, and struggled to steer clear of it. It had almost doubled in width since they had left it, and was still intent on expanding. The heat quickly dried the bark of the trees - which were only sodden on the surface, as the days before had been dry – and the fire lapped the dry wood with a vicarious appetite.

The way things were going, the entire forest was liable to burn down. It was an environmentalists nightmare, but it was a necessary step in thwarting Oda's surprise attack, and stopping the complete defeat of the Imagawa forces before they had even properly begun their campaign.

Chapter 88: Onwards

In the Matsudaira camp, they had spent the entire morning - and early afternoon - training. But as the thunderstorm storm drew in, the commander had looked up at the dark, heavy clouds, and judged that then would be a good time for a break – he did not want the gunpowder to grow wet.

And so they had gathered within their tents, escaping the worst of the rain, as they sat exhausted, glad of the chance to be able to sit down and get something to eat.

Though, they had been made to remain armed, for training would resume once the rain had lessened – and many found themselves wishing that it never would.

Their commander was a serious man, and seemed to take personal offence whenever they gave something less than their maximum effort. He expected the best from them at all times, and drilled them ruthlessly.

But when it came time for them to unwind, he was one of the men, and took the time to eat with them by the warm fires, learning more about those that served under him. This fostered a comradery that was unusual for such a large army, and despite all that he expected of them, they still strove not to let him down.

He strolled through the camp now, since that rain had lessened, and greeted the various men that he passed.

"Ah, Arai, you're still smiling! I don't think I've ever seen you look unhappy. Got any tips for a grumpy old man?"

The men responded unguardedly to the commander's playful questioning, knowing that he would not take offence no matter how savagely they joked.

"I reckon the secret is not thinking boss, Arai is missing a good bit of kit upstairs!"

One of Arai's friends responded on his behalf, and all the men shared a laugh, Arai includeInsteading of growing upset, his smile only widened, and he agreed with his friend.

"'Tis true I reckon."

He said good naturedly.

It was the kind of reaction that was typical of the men of the Matsudaira army. Within them, Matsudaira had deliberately fostered an easy going nature, that had begun at the top with his patience and leniency toward his officers. He felt great distaste for the behaviour of the Imagawa councilmen, where they would openly snap at one another for the smallest of reasons, and do everything they could to extract even the smallest amount of pleasure from making someone elses day worse.

He actively punished anyone that stepped out of line in that regard. He had taught his officers to follow his ethos, and if a recruit struggled to keep up with the training, then they would be spoken to, but their words were not to contain malice. Things were to be kept friendly, anything else was unneeded.

The behaviour of the officers, and the relaxed attitude they let off soon rubbed off onto the soldiers, as they were able to deal with the stressful task of learning new techniques without the fear of being torn apart by the fellow men should they fall behind.

He had done this simply because he judged it to be ideal, and was the kind of environment he wished to be a part of. But, outside of his predictions, it also yielded good results on the battlefield, as was noticeable within the siege of Marine.

The comraderee that the men had soon lead to an increased morale, and a calmness in the face of danger, as they employed the mindset that they had adopted during training – that of patience, and steady work.

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

As he spoke with a group of his men, they had heard the distant sounds of explosions. It was different to that of the gunfire that they had grown so used to – not that it would be common to hear gunfire anyway, as theirs was the only army under Imagawa that employed matchlocks.

The men stiffened, knowing it to be serious. Matsudaira responded calmly, turning to one of the officers that had accompanied him.

"Gather the men. We shall investigate that noise as though it was the sound of enemy gunfire. It does not matter if it turns out not to be – it'll be good practise for getting our formations right."

He ordered, offering answers to the man's questions before he could even give voice to them. That was another one of the reasons why the unit was so tightly knit – the officers were always kept in the know, and informed officers meant informed and reassured men.

"Sir!"

He bowed stiffly at the waist before turning and running at a jog to begin the assembly.

"Do you think it's really enemy gunfire, boss?"

One of the men asked, curious. It had certainly not sounded like it.

Matsudaira shrugged, answering honestly.

"I'm not sure, but we will certainly find out. Are you ready for a fight?"

The man flexed his arm, patting his bicep, as if to demonstrate his strength.

"It's them who'll need to be ready!"

The other men was nodding. None of them felt apprehensive about the thought of a battle. Whatever forces the enemy had would likely be numerically inferior to theirs. Also, they were confident in their training, and were ready to demonstrate the power of the matchlock.

Matsudaira patted his shoulder.

"That's exactly the right attitude. We'll be sure to crush them."

With that, he turned and walked back to his tent, throwing on his battle armour, before mounting his horse and riding toward the front of his men who were all ready and waiting.

He was a cautious man, and had them march forward in a defensive formaton, with veteran yari units covering both wings incase of a flanking attempt, and experienced men covering their rear. Making up the centre were 1000 matchlock wielders, each holding a loaded rifle that was ready to unleash death with the slightest pull of the trigger.

By now Oda was nearing Okabe's camp – or atleast, what remained of it. His men galloped behind him furiously, driving their horses to the limits, as the infantry behind them were ran ragged, attempting to catch up.

Bordering each camp were streams that had to be leapt over, but they were no problem for the horses.

They burst through the ranks of tents – sometimes even through the tents themselves, sending them crashing to the floor – and fanned out across the vast area that the camp covered.

Those foolish enough to move slowly let out screams as they were cut down. Some attempted to run, but their end proved no different, only the sword cut open their backs rather than slicing through their fronts.

The cavalry did not slow in the least as they levelled the campsite to the ground, hacking down all that stood in their way. Any men that they did not manage to kill would be dealt with by the infantry that came behind them, so none of them changed their course to give chase.

One thing was obscenely obvious after just moments of being inside the camp: they had been somewhat prepared for their coming. Only around 2000 men were left behind, which was far below how many they expected to find.

Some of them were fully armoured, and others were barely dressed. But all of them were running in the same direction.

'They were warned…'

Nobunaga cursed. But by who? The fire was too far away from them to see, and the distant explosions would not have been enough to catch their attention. A rider could not have been sent, as they would have taken longer to mobilize due to the horses being unsaddled and resting.

Who then?

A face flashed inside Nobunaga's head.

'Him? That man in black? It's possible… But how would he know that I would come here?'

He questioned himself, before realizing that such an answer was obvious: it was the closest camp to Okabe's. Even an idiot would be able to guess where he might head next.

He vented his frustration by slaying yet another man, the blood splattering over his horse's flank. The moist soil beneath those four hooves splattered everywhere, reeking havoc as the clumps flew toward the eyes of the horsemen behind him.

But they had grown used to such trivialities, and did not even flinch as it splashed against their men-yoroi. They merely did as their Daimyo demonstrated, and ended the lives of yet more men.

He gently directed his horse to follow a curving path as they turned, the arrowhead of men behind him followed splendidly. That was the beauty of such a formation. It allowed the outmost men to have one eye on their commander at all times, so that movement alterations could be done swiftly.

He followed the path the masses fled by, hacking down all that came before him as they cried out in terror.

Matsudaira's decision to move was confirmed to be the right one, as they soon caught sight of the towering inferno that licked at the heels of the surrounding trees, threatening to burn them to the ground.

The smoke hung in the air like a thick mist, and it was immensely uncomfortable to walk through – disorientating as well – and they could not see Imagawa's camp until they stumbled inside it.

To the commander's surprise, the inside of the camp was chaotic, as men charged about, arming themselves. He had expected such preparations to have been completed far earlier than they were, and still, he had yet to catch sight of Imagawa.

He shook his head lightly at the incompetence of the man he was forced to serve, sparing a glance back toward the wall of flame. If not for that, he wagered, the camp would have already been razed to the ground by the attacking forces.

He wondered why the enemy had not decided to do that in the first place, instead of sowing the seeds of chaos with that massive fire of theirs, and the many explosions. Though, he supposed that in the end, the advantage would still be with the enemy, as they would not doubt be causing havoc elsewhere.

He held a degree of respect for Oda, who had - despite his numbers - not showed the slightest signs of weakness, and was now causing such fear and damage among the ranks of an enemy that far out numbered himself.

On that thought, Imagawa emerged, clad in his heavy battle armour that had been custom designed by a talented armourer, so that the chest piece would be able to make it's way around his hefty stomach.

His elite guard rode out in front of him, a huge square shield covering more than half their bodies. Their primary purpose was to protect Imagawa from harm – which included projectile damage – and so they acted basically as a mobile wall that would encircle him at all times. The conditions of their role were so absolute, that they were forbidden to carry a weapon, and only had their shields. This was to dissuade any attempts at breaking formation to slay the enemy, and so that they might stay by their Daimyo's side at all times.

In truth, it looked a little ridiculous, and he was embarrassed to be on the battlefield beside it. He doubted Oda would be surrounded by an elite guard, though he likely still stood near the rear, so that he might deliver orders more effectively.

The camp was filled with smoke, and the men struggled to breathe. Their gut instinct lead them to form up at the far end of the camp, where Matsudaira and his men were already ready and waiting.

Their unstable disposition that was so full of anxiety contrasted against that of Matsudaira's men who – despite the heat – remained as cool as ice, as though they had been faced with a similar situation thousands of times.

It was a difference in philosophies, he supposed. Most men were trained to deal with certain situations extremely well. Yet he trained his to deal with everything in a calm and disciplined manner, no matter what it might be.

Chapter 89: Betrayal

Oda rode through the masses of men, trampling them to the ground, and following their route closer and closer to the Imagawa camp.

They heard Oda coming from a long way off, forecast by the screams of the fallen and the fleeing. No one seemed to wish to move to their aid, as their formations were secure, and they were as solid as a brick wall. To move would be to render themselves vulnerable.

"HELP! AHHH FUCKKK! HELP US!"

A man screamed out, his voice rich with pure fear.

As he caught sight of the Imagawa camp ahead, Gengyo was finally able to give the order to stand firm.

They were merely 130 men, but with their spears, they would be able to break Nobunaga's charge, and stop him from killing quite as many men.

"HOLD FAST! YARI WALL!"

He called out, the men responded quickly, forming up, holding their spears firmly. They were glad of the order, as the screams of the slain had been haunting, and they had felt great guilt in running away.

Recognizing that black armour of theirs to be that of their saviours, the men sprinted past, breathlessly, tears stained their eyes, and urine soaking their clothes. That had truly been forced into the position of prey, and it was not pleasant, not pleasant in the least.

A fully armoured man, who held his spear in one hand, did not run past altogether. Instead, he joined the wall, presenting the point of his spear towards the enemy.

"IF COWARDICE IS NOT IN YOUR HEARTS, JOIN THIS MAN, AND HELP US STOP THAT ODA BASTARD FROM KILLING MORE."

He shouted out to his fellow men at arms. Most ran past, terrified, simply wishing to be as far away from the fighting as possible. But some were able to conquer their hearts, and pick up their spears once more, resuming the heart of a warrior, rather than that of a startled rabbit.

And so, from 130, the number of defending men trickled up over two hundred. It was still far from enough to comfortably withstand the charge of 1000 cavalry men, but it was certainly an improvement.

"Come on! Imagawa's camp is just up ahead! Keep running!"

Masaatsu called out in encouragement to those who had reached the end of their rope. Whose lungs and hearts were screaming from overexertion. But even then, they were not liable to stop. There was not a man who would refrain from pushing himself to his limits should certain death wait behind them. What was a little discomfort compared to the end of your life?

Thousands passed them. But thousands more were still far from safety. A light wind spread the smoke throughout the forest, and soon they could barely see whether the man charging in front of them was friend or foe.

The only way they knew the enemy had not yet arrived was because the vibrating earthquake that rattled their feet – drummed out by thousands of horse's hooves – was not yet on top of them.

"AAHHHH!"

A scream rang out nearby as a man was hacked down. But they could not see his body fall. Their hearts grew tense with fear. The smoke had leant a power to the attacking forces that they did not previously have.

And then, emerging from the fog, as though he were a demon suddenly materialising, was Oda. The colour of his armour was impossible to tell, as now it was thick with blood, and stuck with many bits of grizzle from organs, skin and muscle.

The pointed teeth of his men-yoroi seemed to want to devour them, and that sword in his armoured hand was more than happy to deliver on that wish.

Out of nowhere, two men appeared behind him. Their armour stained in a similar fashion. Even their horses looked fearsome, with their maddened eyes and furious foaming mouths that ached with pain from how hard they had been pushed.

More and more of these demonic figures slid out, each wearing a mask that looked so very excited by the scent of more bloodshed.

The arrowhead of this demonic legion drew closer, and their features became easier to make out. But that did not make their fear lessen, as they could confirm that these were mere men. Conversely, it made it grow stronger, as the blood and gore on their armour was rendered even more vivid. It was piled on so thick, as though they had bathed in a bath of severed body parts.

The men towards the ends started to break. They had not come here to fight this. They simply wanted to pretend they were not cowards, after having run from Oda for so long. Surely it was wiser to run back to Imagawa, and fight amongst them?

But it was far too late. Even if they began running now, the horsemen would easily catch them. Yet rational thinking was not the strong suit of a fear consumed man, and soon they had all fled, leaving the Niwa army by it's lonesome.

"DAMN COWARDS!"

Morohira roared, far more angry than he was afraid.

"HOLD FIRM!"

Gengyo instructed, as they gritted their teeth, prepared to catch the mass of horses on the ends of their spears.

Oda drew closer, his sword held high. He and his horse seemed to show not an inch of fear from the sharpened spear points that could claim their lives at any second.

His gaze was focused on that man in black. The one who seemed to have made his plans so much more difficult. Had it not been for his interference, then they would have been able to demolish more than half of Imagawa's army with ease. But yet he was made to give chase.

And even now, he stood in his way, with his measly amount of men, seemingly convinced that his stand here had meaning, that he would save more men this way.

He drew nearer, till he was almost on top of Gengyo's spear, and looked him dead in the eye.

Those were not the eyes of a sane man. They were red. Red from days of sleeplessness. He had clearly put every inch of energy into making this attack a success, and now that it had not reached his expectations, he was angry, so very angry, and was willing to risk his life to right the wrongs.

But at the last second, he circled his horse past the men.

'What?'

Gengyo had been fully prepared, mentally and physically, to meet that man's charge head-on. Yet at the last second, he had turned, and with him, the entire arrowhead came.

He thought within those eyes he had caught a hint of insanity. But perhaps that was his own lack of rationality? This man. This Oda Nobunaga had demonstrated - right until the very last moment - that he was a man of extreme logic.

Purging this meagre unit of 130 men would have been easy for him, and it would have settled a personal vendetta. But, it was useless in the grand scheme of things. More than that, it would actually serve to be counterproductive. Leading cavalry onto the points of spears was the height of folly, and they would likely have to sacrifice over 200 men just to kill that measly few. It was not worth it. He needed every man he could get.

And so they rode around, as the men's breath caught in their throats, not quite understanding what had happened.

Gengyo dared to allow himself to breathe, as he shook his head.

'Fuck.'

He, despite all the fighting that they had done, felt himself come to admire that young man. He put the lives of his men foremost before everything else, and that was something worthy of respect.

He stood there, unmoving, before realising the danger that they were in. Any second now, Oda's infantry would be running through, and amongst that order were certainly matchlocks, who would have their weapons loaded and ready to fire at a moments notice.

"WITHDRAW! QUICKLY!"

He called out, watching his men follow his order and run on ahead, as he dared to turn around and look back in the direction that Nobunaga had rode. But there was nothing to see anymore. The cavalry had been swallowed up by the smoke.

He ran back with them, imaging those that had fled would be feeling rather foolish by now.

They slid back through the ranks of spear wielders that held the line, noticing Imagawa was close to the front, surrounded by his shield bearers. From the way he looked at them, it seemed that he had been able to catch sight of their exchange with the Oda cavalry, despite the fog.

"HALT!"

He shouted out, as the spear wielders under his personal command lowered their spears as one – almost hitting them – and forced them back in the process.

"What the fuck!?"

Morohira cursed at such rudeness, his eyesbrows knotting together in a furious frown. The rest of the men felt the same. It did not matter who you were, treating men that had just risked their lives to save your cause with such rudeness – that was unforgivable.

Imagawa shot Morohira a stern look for his words.

"WHY DO YOU FLEE FROM BATTLE?"

He bellowed, so that the whole army might hear him.

'Flee from battle? The fuck? What battle are you looking at, old man?'

Rokkaku thought internally, thoroughly despising the way in which the obese Daimyo's chins wobbled together aggressively, like a gigantic toad.

It was left to Gengyo to try and keep his cool, as he attempted to keep his voice level, and respond to Imagawa's accusations.

"Daimyo-sama, we merely came back so that we might rejoin you in your charge."

"NONSENSE. THERE ARE INFANTRY UNITS ON THE WAY, ARE THERE NOT, OKABE?"

He turned to the man beside him, who wore a snakelike smile.

"There are indeed. In retreating, you've allowed them to walk freely past, tut tut tut."

"With respect, Daimyo-sama, those infantry number in the thousands, we would have been unable to hold them alone."

'Or at all. They would have shot us down before we could even trade blows.'

"MMM, A PITIFUL EXCUSE. YOU ARE UNWILLING TO GIVE YOUR LIVES FOR THE SUCCESS OF OUR GRAND CAMPAIGN? DESPICABLE."

"We are, and always have been willing to serve the Daimyo to the best of our abilities."

He responded back through gritted teeth.

"OH? GOOD. THEN YOU WILL LEAD THE CHARGE, AND BRING THE WORTHLESS ODA INFANTRY TO IT'S KNEES. FAIL IN THIS TASK, AND, AS PUNISHMENT FOR YOUR COWARDICE, I WILL HAVE YOUR HEADS!"

"There are a thousand matchlocks amongst them! We'll be slaughtered before we can even get close!"

"SILENCE! FROM YOUR MOUTH COMES THE WORDS OF A COWARD. IT IS POSSIBLE, IS IT NOT, OKABE?"

"Indeed it is my lord, if only they would show a bit more heart."

'FUCK!'

He roared internally, his fist clenching tightly around his spear, he took a step forward, rage overcoming him. Right there and then he wanted to spear Imagawa like the fat pig he was.

How dare he put his men in such danger! This was virtual suicide! After the lengths, he had gone to in order to ensure that their defeat was prevented… This was his reward?

If they had to die, perhaps it would be better to die ridding the earth of such incompetent scum?

He seriously considered labelling this his final charge, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Lad. Calm yourself."

Nakatane admonished him seriously. There was something about the look that his master gave him that made him listen, and make a conscious effort to still the fire in his blood.

When he was a little less fired up, Nakatane leaned in, and whispered into his ear.

"I am of the same thoughts as you. But for now, we do as he says. When this battle is over however… We will equalize the score. Do you understand?"

Chapter 90: Rage

Matsudaira watched the exchange pitifully. It was another instance of Imagawa being used by one of his subordinates.

'What did you do to offend him, young man?'

He wondered, feeling disgusted at the display. It was certainly not a contest for position, as they were a mere small-time force with 100 or so men. In fact, it was odd that any attention was given to such a unit at all.

He forced himself to look away. Getting himself too invested with the force's plight would only make his guilt stronger when they died.

"We will do as you say, Daimyo-sama, and bring you glory upon the battlefield."

Nakatane said calmly. He had spent many years hiding his emotions as he was tormented so viciously by Toda. Jikouji admired his young master for his levelheadedness when the rest of them were so quick to anger. Even their promising strategist - who had come to their aid so many times before - was unable to keep his cool given this command.

"GOOD."

Was all Imagawa said, as he gestured forward, commanding them to charge.

It took all that he had in him to agree to such a demand. Life was a cruel affair for those without power. They were destined to be at the disposal of the strong. Recently, he had allowed himself to dream. Dream that such a path would soon end for them, and that, when it came time for his daughter to assume power, he would be able to give her all that he had earned, so that she would not experience the same abuse that he did.

For all his wit, and all his intelligence, at this moment Gengyo could not find a better solution. The two choices they had were those presented to them. To think, after all the struggling, after all the fighting, after all the thinking, it would be one of their own allies, in the end, who would see to their destruction.

Okabe wore that satisfied smile. What had they done to offend him? Was it perhaps because they dared to lead his men to safety? Was it really for a reason so petty?

'Ah, but what does it matter. When you wield that much authority, very few are able to question you.'

He lamented. They were doing so well. They had conquered the hurdles presented to them with ease. The men were close with one another, like one big family. Their morale was high, for they had taken steps to conquer their own hearts. And now they were met with such betrayal.

They were forced to step forward, one foot in front of the other, as their muscles contracted and extended, remembering such a common motion. They soon gained speed, and charged forward through the smoke.

'Was I wrong? Wrong to fight for a cause that was not my own?'

He wondered, as time slowed, and his mind drifted away from the battlefield. None of this seemed important any more. Even if they were to slay the enemy in front of them, there was still the enemy behind.

'The world… They would judge me to be the fool. The fault always lies in the hands of the defeated. Honour, it seems, is a foreign term. Perhaps I should have betrayed the Daimyo of my province before he betrayed me. Perhaps I should have joined the Oda?'

The wet soil clung to their feet, making their movements heavy. The world around them was oddly quiet and cold, as they listened to the sound of their own breath.

'Ha! That was not an option. Oda would have never trusted a traitor. The only true option would have been to distance myself from everyone. To stand close by those I knew to be my true allies. To reason with Niwa-san, and to take flee from a war that was not our own. To allow the destruction of the Imagawa.'

On concluding that thought, his foot hit the ground heavier, as his blank face - that lay emotionless, so confused by the sudden sabotage – regained its animation, and he narrowed his eyes, his eyebrows coming together, resuming that frown that he had thought he was rid of.

A demon inside him rattled against the chains, crying to be let out.

'Kasai... Kasai Gengyo… You finally understand, don't you? It's time to return to your roots.'

"Indeed… Indeed it is time."

His words were uttered quietly, but they drifted toward all the men. Their attention returned from their contemplating thoughts, and their ears perked, recognizing that young voice.

"It is time to seize control. It is time to embrace that which the world fears – that darkness within ourselves. For the world is corrupt anyway. We must allow our own grime to enter our blood and make it heavier, so that we can ignite a new fire that will burn stronger, and allow us to face any adversary."

His whispered words drifted into to their ears, and resonated with their hearts. Had they not experienced such a betrayal together, they would have worried that their leader had become a mad man. But they were ready. Ready to look at a new part of themselves.

Nakatane understood those words more than anyone, for it was a path that he had thought of walking for a long time, so that he might deal with the torments of Toda. But he had resisted. He had feared to look at what he was capable of, afraid that he would not be able to control it.

But now, before their certain deaths, there was nothing to lose. Would they die with blank faces, brought low by the petty words of someone else, or would they allow that demon free, so that in their final moments they might reign true chaos upon the world, and let the world know that they were here.

"REBEL!"

He shouted suddenly, energized.

"REBEL AGAINST THAT WHICH SEEKS TO RUIN US!"

He thought not before he spoke, he merely allowed the words to come of their own accord.

"REBEL, AND FEEL YOUR RAGE! RAGE AGAINST IMAGAWA! RAGE AGAINST ODA!"

They were men. Men of the finest sought. They had walked the path of honour, and it had lead them to a dead end. How could they not feel rage?

"AARGHHHH!"

Cries full of frustration rang out, as the ceased to care what others might think, and allowed their anger to take hold.

They did not realize it, but their speed increased. A body consumed by rage did not care about damage to itself. It only cared about the destruction of that around it.

Holding their spear in their hands. Whether bow ashigaru, yari ashigaru, or Special Forces, they all clung to a spear.

Through the smoke, ranks of matchlock units were revealed, the front row kneeling, so that those behind them could draw a shot as well.

They were so focused on their charge, that they did not realize that Imagawa had sent no men to follow behind them. It seemed the cavalry had been sent instead. They were merely a distraction, intended to slow the infantry and little whilst the cavalry was allowed in place.

The first volley was unleashed, hitting each of them, as the front rank fired. Their bullets pierced their flesh, embedding themselves under their skin. But they did not falter. Only those that had been unlucky enough to receive a fatal shot straight away, only they were the ones who fell.

The rest lowered their spears forwards, their faces a mask of pure rage and hatred.

The ashigaru panicked. They had been hit – some more than once – but they still kept charging. It was right of them to feel fear. The second volley went off, though was a little more disorganized than the first.

More bullets connected with their flesh, as they barely flinched. Yet more men had to fall, for their brains had been pierced, and they no longer had any control of their bodies.

"ARGGGGGHHHHH!"

They roared, drawing closer. There was only a single volley that had yet to be fired, and the enemy was almost upon them. A thousand matchlock ashigaru, left behind to deliver one final volley to the enemy, before they were commanded to make haste and flee.

The swordsmen had gone on ahead. Any attack they committed to would be their last. They did not have the advantage of range that the matchlocks did.

Some of the bullets flew through the forest past the Niwa army, and sent men on Imagawa's front rank stumbling to the floor. It had been their intent all along, to fire deep in the smoke, where they knew Imagawa's forces to be residing. Yet they were met with this suicidal charge. A charge that should have been defeated with ease, yet it still had not lost its momentum.

FOOSH FOOSH FOOSH

The final volley went off, and the two forces collided.

The Niwa men drove their spears in deep, barely slowing. The Special Forces men killed many with their initial charge, before casting their spears aside, and drawing the sword.

They whirled around, furious, covered in their own blood as they slashed widely.

"RAHHHHHHHHH!"

Pain only made them grow angrier, and madder, and did not slow them in the least. They were men that had cast aside their humanity, and allowed something more primitive to take hold. They were men that had absolutely nothing to lose, thrown away by those who they served. They were men that fully understood what it meant to feel rage.

They carved their way through as the forces crumbled before them. Mere ashigaru were not likely to slow them with ease. Their morale was too low, their thoughts too scattered. Faced with the single-minded determination to kill all that was in their way, they were terribly lacking.

With bullets gone from their guns, and mere bayonets on the end of their rifles, they attempted to swarm the enemy and it's meagre numbers, to overwhelm them.

But their shallow strikes were not nearly enough. They were mere tickles when compared to the pain of a bullet.

Rokkaku, unfeeling, used all his strength, and cleaved a man across from his right shoulder to his left thigh, rendering him completely in half. Understandably, those ashigaru that had seen such brutality started to back away, but there was little chance of escape.

Morohira wielded his katana and that of one of his fallen comrades, a whirlwind of fury, as his own blood made its way up past his lips, yet he still fought with the ferocity of a lion.

Nakatane had multiple bullet holes scattered around his chest, and fighting on proved difficult, as his body started to rebel. But spurred on by his anger, he did not yield to the need for rest, and slashed men apart as though they were made of straw.

Jikouji fought alongside him, brutally efficient, fighting like a man half his age. The culmination of his years of training was truly manifest, and every time he moved, another man fell to the floor.

Yoritomo and Aritada had thrown themselves into this campaign, truly believing that it was their future. That it was their chance to live their dreams. They had held the various Daimyos in high regard, believing them to be the height of honour. And now, their beliefs had proved to be false, and they were left empty. Only rage could fill that hole in their hearts, as tears clung to their faces, and they wailed in despair, cutting down foes left and right. It was truly a terrifying sight.

Maniacally, some of the ashigaru attempted to reload, but there was far from enough time, and their own men were in the way – a foolish endeavour. Some let shots off in their fear, actually hitting men of their own, but they still continued, doing anything they could to stop these savage beasts from reaching them and tearing them to pieces.

Chapter 91: Monsters

He stepped inside of the ashigaru's guard, slicing open his stomach. The man fell, his face a mask of pure terror. It was fitting, perhaps, that he met his end at the hand of devils, for he would be dining with them for eternity in hell.

Gengyo threw himself into reckless combat, moving faster than he ever had before. He did not make any attempt to appear human, and only moved as his body saw fit. He adopted a crouched posture, like that of an angry silverback, with his blade in one hand, as he launched himself into the mass of people, his blade slicing through the air rapidly, causing a network of death wherever it landed.

His body had lost all feeling, and his only desire was to cause destruction. They had thrown away concern for their own lives long before. Had they not, then they would have fallen to the first volley.

It was bestial. It was terrifying. It was downright inhuman.

"M-monsters!"

A man screamed, as he held his weapon out, uselessly projecting its blade. With ease, Masaatsu slipped under his guard, and separated his leg from his knee. He barely glanced down as he drove his sword into the soft flesh of the man's chest.

Those surrounding him backed away. Similar scenes were happening all over.

"T-they… don't die…"

A man whimpered, his voice choked up with fear. No matter how many times they stabbed at them, or how many wounds they made, the men did not slow, and only continued to hunt their lives.

Masses of corpses were at their feet. It was a terrifying display.

Unable to bear the horrific slaughter that they were witnessing, the few hundred matchlock ashigaru that remained started to rout, running off in all directions, doing whatever they could to escape their certain death.

It was only at the sight of those fleeing backs, and the lack of enemy presence in front of them that the men started to regain some semblance of their normal selves, as they dared to hope that they would live. But that in itself was dangerous. Their bodies were horrific messes, and with the adrenaline wearing off, the pain set in.

Gengyo punctured the same man over and over with his broken katana. The man had died long before, but lost to his rage as he was, and with no one else for him to kill, his frustrations were let loose upon the body.

Soon, his mind started to recover, dared to operate once more. And with it, he grew exhausted, and the blade slid from his grasp. He rolled from the corpse, and lay on his back.

His eyes were only slightly open, looking at the sky above them. It seemed night had fallen before they even knew it. They soon closed, as tiredness overwhelmed him, and he began to wish for a long rest.

…

…

PAT PAT

He felt something tapping his cheek.

"Oy! Lad? You alive?"

A familiar voice caused him to stir, and he looked up to see Nakatane, looking to be in a gruesome state.

"Niwa-san..?"

He whispered painfully, his throat raw from all the shouting he had done. His whole body ached, and he dared not look at the mess of his torso, knowing it to be riddled with bullet wounds.

He tried to sit up.

"Easy now."

Nakatane said, helping him slowly upward.

He glanced around. A few men were standing. But only a few. Around them was a field of corpses, and plenty of smoke.

He dared not hope that his comrades had made it alive, for the probability of them surviving that brutual offensive was close to zero.

'Imagawa would certainly think so too.'

His anger returned as he pictured that man's greasy face, with his sunken eyes and trembling chins. He clenched his fist, only to immedietly unclench it after the pain it caused. It seemed a bullet had found its way into his upper arm.

A thought came, and he spoke, urgently.

"We need to get out of here!"

He hastily attempted to get to his feet, but he did so too quickly, and dizziness overwhelmed him. He would have fallen once more had Nakatane not been there to support him.

"Aye lad, take it easy though."

He nodded, trying to convey his understanding, but the urgency he had about him was not abated in the least. No doubt the Imagawa forces would be coming soon, and that was the last thing he wished to see. Should they be confirmed to be alive, then they would have to return to that fold, or else Toyone village would be tormented.

"The rest are over here."

He said, supporting Gengyo's shoulder as he lead him through the smoke.

"…The rest?"

He questioned, repeating what their master had said.

A pitiful amount of men filled his vision as they drew closer. Barely 30 in number. Amongst them, he caught sight of Aritada, who's eyes were red, and cheeks were stained with tears.

He looked toward him, a question present on his face.

Aritada shook his head in response.

It seemed Yoritomo had fallen. It was unsurprising, considering all that they had went through, but the loss still cut heavily into his heart.

He was pleased to catch sight of his father, who sat on a felled tree, panting heavily. He was in bad shape. Rokkaku were there too, and Togashi.

But no matter how hard he searched, he could not catch sight of his brother.

"Masaatsu… Where's Masaatsu?"

"I'm sorry, lad…"

Came Nakatane's apologetic response.

"I see…"

He looked down at the floor, feeling tears of his own begin to sting his eyes. His brother… his dear brother, who had cared for him so much. Rin would be heart broken. Fuku too.

He wished to fall to the floor then and there, and weep. His legs were weak, and it took a great effort to remain standing. But he knew, more important than anything else, was their need to leave.

If not, Masaatsu would have died in vain, and revenge could never be achieved.

"We have to go, Niwa-san… We have to."

He begged, trying to get him to spur the men into action. Any moment now they could be trapped.

"Aye, I know. Let's go, men…"

He instructed, though there was no power in his voice. Their losses had been too great for them to feel anything at their victory. Some even found themselves wishing that they had died amongst their comrades.

They stood up, and walked, though so slowly that it was like they were not moving at all. None of them had the strength, and none had the energy. Each step was a great effort.

"One foot… In front of the other…"

He heard Nakatane whisper beside him, as he struggled for breath.

As he walked, Gengyo's thoughts went toward a certain old man.

"Jikouji?"

He said, thinking aloud.

"Ain't dead yet, youngin'."

He heard a voice come from behind him.

'Ah…'

He was grateful to hear that. He did not think he would have been able to deal with the loss of another close friend.

The hooves of horses sounded out behind them, as the cavalry arrived at the site of the battle. They spoke loudly. Too loudly for their tired ears. And they cared not for what they said. They merely made an effort to stay clear of their path, and they carried on walking, going ever deeper into the forest, putting as much distance as they could between them, and their new enemy.

Their pace was slow, and they walked for many hours without yet reaching the edge of the forest, and only when dawn rolled around did they finally make it. The first morning light shone off the patch of green. It was inviting. Too inviting. Unceromonously, the exhausted group of battered men collapsed to the floor, falling asleep almost immedietly.

…

…

They slept for a long time, and some never woke up again. It was truly a miracle that any one of them were alive.

Feeling a tickling across his face, as a small spider wandered all over him, Gengyo awoke from his slumber, squinting as he shielded his eyes from the bright sun.

His body ached, even more than it had before he had slept, and any attempt at movement felt like someone had shoved their hand in his stomach, and was playing with his warm intestines.

In the end, he settled for moving only his head, as he glanced around.

Morohira was already sitting up, lying his back against one of the trees behind them. He had a distant look on his face, as though he was deep in thought. Rokkaku sat right beside him, but it was as though the two were present in two different dimensions, as they spared not even a glance in each other's direction.

Jikouji had removed his armour, and was inspecting one of his wounds with a look of great distaste on his face, and every now and then he uttered a moan of agony – though he tried to keep it down, so as not to awake the rest.

"I guess… we live another day, eh Niwa-san?"

Gengyo said to the man lying next to him, attempting to come to terms with this new reality.

No response came, and he assumed the man to be asleep.

"Jikouji-san!"

He called out in a whispered shout, trying to get the old man's attention. He glanced around like a curious bird, wondering who was calling his name. A warm smile lit up his face and he noted Gengyo's head peaking out from amongst the long grass.

"Ah, you're still alive lad?"

"Barely. Is it noon now? I guess I was only asleep for a few hours."

"Aye it's noon. But you've been asleep more than a couple of hours, lad. A day, at least."

"My god… that long?"

He questioned, surprised. It was odd that so few of them were up, as well, and he grew worried about the man next to him.

"Niwa-san?"

He tried calling out to him again, beginning to worry after the amount of time they had been asleep.

"Niwa-san? Wake up!"

He said, shaking his shoulder lightly. There was still no response, and he turned to Jikouji for an explanation. The old man's expression turned sad, and he remained silent.

"Niwa-san!"

Gengyo sat up, and turned him over, growing panicked.

His body was heavy, and difficult to move, but after a great effort, he managed to get him to roll over. His head swang lifelessly from the movement, and there was yet no response from the master.

It was only then that he caught sight of the gapping hole near Nakatane's stomach, where the armour had caved in, and the shredded guts inside were visible.

"Niwa-san…"

Tears filled his eyes, and began to drift down his cheeks.

Despite his condition, Nakatane had supported Gengyo as they walked, when it was he that had needed the support far more. Because of the darkness of the forest, he was not able to see how poor of a condition he was in.

Right to his very last breath, the man had been good to him. In the face of Imagawa's incompetence and Okabe's malice, he had remained at the height of decency, fighting on so that his men could survive.

He was there to raise Gengyo up from his lowly position as a peasant. He had always treated him fairly, despite the difference in their status. He was even there as he fell down into the depths of hell, to grab his hand and bring him back up.

And now, such a man was gone. So many good men were gone. But, with the support of this comrade of his, who he had faced many adversities with, he had felt there was a road onwards. And now… Now he was not so sure.

//////////

END OF VOLUME 2

/////////

Chapter 92: Death

He sat there, dead-eyed for the longest of times. So many had died. Even their master, Nakatane, was dead. What way forward was there from this?

The sun warmed the back of his head, rendering his mind even more num. He was grateful for it, as it allowed him to shut out his thoughts. He glanced around - unseeing, and unfeeling - at all who were left.

By the looks of them, even they would not survive. Morohira's chest was a mess of bullet holes and stab wounds – it was a wonder he was still breathing. Those wounds needed closing and cleansing immediately, else they were liable to get infected.

Rokkaku next to him was in even worse shape, and some of the wounds were still bleeding. Most of them preferred not to look at their own bodies, given how bashed up they were. Truly, them being alive was a matter of luck. A mere 11 men out of 130.

But not that it mattered. These were their final hours. Their final struggle. There was no forwards road, no path through the impassable mountains. This is where all their efforts had left them. In a quiet grassy field with the sun to warm their backs as they passed on into the next world.

He tilted his head back, and listlessly looked at the blue sky above.

"Ah…"

He breathed, surprised at the unexpected beauty. Small insects used his fingers as climbing frames as he remained so still that it was like he was already dead.

"Miura… Miura…"

He turned to see Jikouji had made his way to his side. He stared up at that old face of his, and the blood that had matted his beard, and briefly wondered how it was that the oldest amongst them had managed to survive. But he continued that thought no further, for he was glad that those eyes still retained life.

"Jikouji-san…"

He muttered painfully, as though it was a distant memory caught on a passing breeze. He noticed that his lips continued moving, but he barely processed the words that he said. He had no energy, no motivation for anything. It was over.

"…there's…to…for"

Broken fragments of speech drifted through his mind. He might have turned himself to better hear the words, but he feared the pain that such a movement would bring.

He didn't want to hear what Jikouji had to say. He was afraid to hear it. He was done. He was too tired. He didn't want to hear of the responsibilities he had. He wanted to drift away, and rest awhile.

He turned his head, and caught sight of Kitajo, nursing a terrible wound to his upper thigh. It looked painful, and he could see the young lad was gritting his teeth. But as their eyes met, he still smiled in his direction.

The smile brought a slight warmth to his heart, as his brain tried to remember something important. A spark of life flittered through, cranking his mind into motion.

'No… I've given up on society… I can't take the pain… There's nothing you can do – there's nothing you can say.'

"Miura… Miura – look up, lad. Look up."

The words filtered into his restored mind - that was still so raw from the weight of the deaths - and he barely registered them. He, more than anything, wished to ignore them completely, and just curl up into a ball and wait for death to come. There was nothing left for him to protect – there was no point in continuing.

"Look up. Go on, look up."

He dared to, but all he saw was the sight of his wounded comrades, who had trusted in him, and in the end they had been wounded so badly because he allowed himself to be put at the mercy of someone more powerful than he.

He met their gazes, from Rokkau to Sasaki, all the way down to the peasant ashigaru who he was not familiar with. They all met his gaze, and they smiled.

"Do you see, Miura Tadakata? There is still life in those eyes of theirs. Despite all that has happened. We have all lost comrades, young one, but now is not the time for us to die."

He tried to counsel him, and a warmth started to block out the cold, and attempted to reach into his heart, he recalled dreams of a blaze that inspired him, but now all that was left were feeble sparks.

He turned to Aritada, and was overwhelmed by sadness at the boy's tearstained face. He had lost his childhood friend, someone who had been there throughout every day of his life – closer than his own brother. And yet, to him, he still forced his lips up in a smile, and his head down in a nod.

"I think I know what is going through that head of yours, boy. But do not misunderstand – this not your fault. This is not your burden to bear. Yet there is still something I demand you take responsibility for."

He voice hardened toward the last part, laced with authority, causing Gengyo to look up at him stiffly, and expectantly.

"I demand that you take responsibility for our lives. It is through you that we still lived. Imagawa sentenced us to death, but with your guidance, we unleashed chaos, and spoke with the devil, only to remain alive this day."

He looked down at that. So it was his fault, that they were here, now, to suffer?

"Do not misunderstand, however. Our lives are built on the hill of many sacrifices, and for you to turn away now would be to call their efforts meaningless. It is through their might that we are able to speak like this."

"…What would you have me do?"

He spoke in a whisper, as it hurt his throat to talk, but more than anything it reminded him that he was present within the moment, and that was the last thing he wished to experience.

"Take the lead, boy. The responsibility – it's yours."

Take the lead? Should that not be an honour, rather than a such a heavy responsibility? But then he looked at the state of each of them. They were not men who were ready for action. To lead them would mean to care for them, to help them set their feet back firmly upon the mortal plains.

But why should such a task fall to him?

"It's what Nakatane would have wanted. He spent his whole life seeking freedom and safety from the forces above, so that his daughter, Akiko, would not have to experience the same oppression that he felt at the hands of Toda."

'Ah… Akiko.'

A face flashed through his head, and he curled his fingers. How he wished to see her. But it seemed like she was so far away – another dimension, even. He could not even begin to contemplate the distance.

"That was impossible for him. And it was impossible for me. That was, until you came along."

"It is through your talents that we were are able to have this conversation at all. And if there was ever a more fitting person to lead us, then that person would certainly conquer the world."

He looked at the men's faces as Jikouji spoke. They returned his gaze, and within those eyes he could not see a hint of disagreement.

'Why? Why do you think so highly of me? I'm… I'm nothing.'

Those words he spoke within his mind startled a memory into life – a memory from a life of the past.

He had sat there, in his single filthy room, looking at all that he had owned, inhaling the dampness that came from the crumbling walls.

It was then, he realized, at the age of 21, that he was nothing. His life, that all had judged to be so promising from school, from the test scores that he had received, amounted to this.

He was foolish. He had made that intelligence his identity, but it was worthless without the power and position to back it up. It was empty wind.

And in that moment, he had clenched his fist, and sworn to become something. Fuelled by anger – anger toward himself, anger toward the world around him – he had begun the gruelling climb to the top.

And when he had gotten there, he had realized how cold it was.

"Miura."

Jikouji – through a great effort, and great pain – made his way to one knee in front of him, and drew his bloodied sword from its scabbard.

He held it up, in both hands, bowing his head, offering it to Gengyo.

"Please accept my loyalty. Please accept my service. With you to lead us, I know that we will be able to enact revenge for Nakatane, and keep the Niwa family alive."

Gengyo looked down at him, his eyes widened with surprise. He glanced at the sword that was so matted with blood. The old man had not had the energy to clean it yet. Such ceremonies were usually done with the utmost cleanliness. But somehow, it was far more fitting this way. Far more honest. With them both covered in their own blood, the blood of those they had slain, and caked in dried mud - it was almost metaphoric for the road they were to walk.

'This is… This is certainly different.'

He thought, as he looked down at the man who was so intent on offering his sword to him.

'I am not alone this time… Not alone. So perhaps… perhaps the top will not be so cold.'

And then, he took the sword by the hilt, and stood up, his face transforming as he remembered that fire of his.

'This world… It's greatest mistake was disregarding me. Imagawa… Okabe. You are not ready. You do not know the man. No! The men, that stood before you. You dared – you fucking dared – to treat us lightly.'

"Before this year is out, I will tear Imagawa's head from his shoulders. I will sent Okabe to slither with the snakes that he so resembles. And, at your side, I will pursue true chaos – true pandemonium, and burn Mikawa to ashes. Do you think that is enough?"

"NO! Far from it, Miura! We must take from them all that they care about! Allow them to experience what we feel… So that… So that Yoritomo can rest peacefully."

Aritada stood up and spoke passionately, before kneeling before Gengyo, and doing as Jikouji had.

"Please! Miura, accept my blade! Allow me to get justice!"

"We will stain the rivers red with their blood, Aritada. They do not know of whom they offend."

Gengyo affirmed, accepting his allegiance.

"Bowing before my own son… Ha, who would have thought? Masaatsu was proud of you, Tadakata. Really proud. I have never seen him smile more than when he fought at your side. Allow me to join you, so that I can cut Imagawa's head from his fucking shoulders."

Morohira joined, offering up his snapped blade. It was broken and mangled, just like they were. But it was still more than capable of taking the lives of those that wronged them.

"Niiro-san would have enjoyed this…"

Kitajo said sadly, as he struggled to his knees despite the pain it caused. He had no weapon to offer up, but in those empty hands, he gave his life.

"Allow me to fight on Niiro-san's behalf, Miura."

"My sword has been yours for a while," Togashi began. "But allow me to offer it to you once more. I have no home, and no family to speak of. But I feel your wrongs as strongly as my own. Let us seize justice, Miura."

Soon, all had offered their swords to him. In him, they placed their hopes. Even the three who were not of his unit – even they recognized his achievements and believed in his the chance of his success.

Chapter 93: A Farm

Here they were, speaking so grandly about seeking revenge against the Daimyo of their province, yet they were so far from achieving that, it was almost laughable. Currently, it would not be strange should one of them to keel over and die – such was the shape they were in.

Their first priority was of course food, to give them the energy to recover, but they also needed supplies to close their wounds. Alcohol would do.

It was as he thought of all that they needed that he started to miss the great amount of coin they had back in their tents. But now that was long gone, and they had to make do with what was around them.

"There's a stream south from here, Miura. I spied a farmhouse near it too."

Jikouji seemed to be able to tell what Gengyo was thinking and offered a solution to their problems.

"Mmm, good. We'll see what we can acquire from there."

"About time."

Ii complained. He was thoroughly starved. He was one of the men Gengyo had only recently been acquainted with, as he had served in the yari ashigaru unit beforehand. He was in his mid-twenties and had a respectable amount of lean muscle on his arms. But his most defining characteristic was that mouth of his. Despite the fact that they did not know each other very well, he had no problem voicing his complaints.

He had two friends that had survived alongside him. One was Honjou – a tall man, with sunken eyes and a bald head. His appearance was most certainly odd, especially considering how thin he was. It was rather startling.

And then his other friend stood smaller than he, with broad shoulders and a messy top of hair. He went by the name of Enya.

"What if they're not willing to give us anything?"

Rokkaku asked, a little anxiously, clearly wary of getting his hopes up.

"Then we will take it, Rokkaku. From now on, we are our own people, and must care for ourselves. If someone stands in our way, then we will tear them down."

It was a cold thing to say, but they did not have the liberty of playing nice men. Their survival was more important than manners.

The men nodded with approval. It was a circulating idea between them – it was the whole reason they had got into this mess in the first place. If they focused only on their people, then they would grow strong, and not be at risk of betrayal.

They walked slowly down the hill. Sasaki ended up having to carry Kitajo because of the state of the boy's leg, but soon they arrived.

For a farmhouse, it was remarkably clean, and had a freshly changed thatched roof, whilst the walls were of a whitewashed or varnished wood.

A crowd of a dozen cattle chomped down on the long grass, regarding them lazily as they passed.

Gengyo took note of their presence. They would be able to lead one away to have a supply of meat as they walked – at least until they killed it.

He wandered around the back, where he assumed there might be a storage area. The trail of hay leading from it told tales of its presence. He hoped they might be able to take what they needed without directly confronting the farmer of the land, and potentially having to harm him in the process.

His efforts in that regard were proved to be futile, as when they rounded the corner, they saw a young women at work, piling bundles of straw into her arms.

They stopped, and glanced at each other, wondering how they might proceed. The weapons they had drawn were quickly sheathed.

It did not take her long to notice that they were there, as Gengyo prepared himself mentally and physically for her screams of terror.

"Ah!.."

She yelped, shocked at seeing so many men suddenly appear behind her. She met Gengyo's eyes, flinching at their coldness. Then she looked toward the rest, her eyes widening as she saw the nature of their injuries.

"By the gods…"

She whispered.

"Hello we would-"

The young man began, as he was about to state what they needed to be given so that they might leave the farmhouse in peace.

"You poor… Those injuries… It hurts, right? Please sit down, okay? I'll go fetch some things."

Startled by that reaction, he could not formulate a reply, and soon she had disappeared inside the house. He sighed lightly. It seemed she would be calling her father or brother for help. It would have been better if they could have avoided a fight, but it was not as though they'd back down from one either.

"Grandmaaa! Grandmaaa? Do you know where I left the sake? I also need some bandages."

"Sake and bandages? What on earth do you need that for?"

"Uhm… Uhm… Fokoro has hurt herself on the rocks again… I need to close the wound before it gets any worse."

"My goodness, again? Even for a cow, she ought to have more brains."

"She's clever in different ways!"

The young woman retorted, leaving the house with her arms full of the supplies. Through the open window they had heard the conversation, and not only did she not tell anyone that they were there, but she also lied to cover them.

She came back, her cheeks red from all the rushing.

"Sorryyy! I'm back. Okayyyy, who wants to go first?"

"How about you?"

She grabbed Kitajo's arm, and the lad blushed despite himself. She had a pretty enough face, and Gengyo wagered he had never been with a woman.

"Lay him down on the hay. It's nice and soft, see?"

She spoke to Sasaki, before jumping on top of a pile of hay to demonstrate it's comfortable qualities.

Sasaki did as he was told, feeling as though he was being spoken to by his mother.

Kitajo looked in Gengyo's direction for guidance. It was all happening rather fast, and he didn't recall any of them giving their consent. But she has a kindness about her that made her difficult to talk to.

In the first place, the majority of them could barely comprehend what was going on. They had come here expecting to fight and steal for their supplies, and here this girl was, not even knowing who they are, offering to treat their wounds.

She inspected Kitajo's wound a little further, tutting lightly at the state of it.

"You should really take better care of yourself, y'know? If boys would just slow down a little bit, then you wouldn't end up in a such a state."

There were certainly flaws within that argument, but who would dare name them? Her touch was gentle upon his skin, as she pondered how to deal with the injury.

"There's something inside… what's that?"

"A bullet."

Gengyo informed her, finally having the opportunity to speak.

She looked up at him with wide eyes. She'd never seen a gun, but she'd heard about them, and understood what a bullet was. From her understanding though, it could not possibly have caused such an injury.

"A bullet? Ow… We're going to need to get this out, okay?"

Kitajo nodded as he looked up at her, and she smiled kindly, looking for some to take it out with. She ended up disappearing inside the house once more, before returning with a small, clean knife.

The young lad looked at the blade, and already had his teeth gritted for the pain that was to come.

"This is going to hurt… But be strong, okay? We'll have you fixed up in no time."

He nodded twice, once for himself, once for her as the knife neared his wound. They all watched, feeling pity for the lad, and Rokkaku and Jikouji moved forward to hold him down, knowing that it would be necessary.

She began with the knife chasing after the bullet, and he let out a pained scream that he quickly muffled as he closed his mouth.

"AHahhh…"

She looked at him gently, understanding.

"Almost got it…"

"There!"

A compressed metallic ball fell out from his wound, and she lifted it up to show him proudly.

"See! It was okay, wasn't it?"

Kitajo looked as though he was about to faint, but still nodded as though in agreement with what she said.

"We'll just use some sake to clean it up a bit, and then you'll be all healthy again!"

Before he could even mentally prepare himself for the stinging the sake was sure to bring, she had already poured it into his wound.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

This time he certainly could not hold back his cry of pain. It was too aggressive, too stabbing, for any man to take it lightly.

"Good job!"

She praised him, as he breathed heavily, trying his best to deal with the aftershocks of the pain.

"Oh… I better start a fire… We need to seal this up quickly before it gets dirty again."

She began setting rows of kindling in place.

"Ah, allow me. There are wounded souls in need of healing."

Ii came over, asserting all of the charm that he could muster, as he gently stripped the kindlling from her hands, and smiled like a prince. The rest of the men cringed, well aware of what he was up to. But she was not swayed by his charm in the least, and merely smiled and gave a hearty "okay!" before returning to see Kitajo.

He looked a little miffed at his efforts failing, whilst the rest held condescending smiles. Not only had he not suceeded in swaying her heart, but he had also been laden with a job in the process.

"Damn it…"

He muttered quietly to himself, as he bent over and set up the fire, despite all the pain it caused.

"Take off your armour okay? I need to see your chest."

"W-what?"

Kitajo asked breathlessly, surprised by her suddenly asking him to undress.

"It hurts on your chest too, doesn't it?"

"Ah… uhm… right."

Slowly, with her help, he removed his armour, and opened his kimono baring his chest.

"Lucky bastard…"

Ii cursed, seeing her fingers dance on his skin, inspecting each of the wounds.

"So many…"

She said sadly.

"You're a brave boy."

She said with so much honesty that even some of the older men almost collapsed.

'…Is it too late for me to marry such a sweet thing?'

Rokkaku pondered, watching her go about her work.

The fire was soon roaring, and Kitajo's screams rang out. They managed to get most of the bullets out of his chest, though some had collapsed, and been reduced to patches of shrapnel, which made the farm girl's job a deal more difficult. But, within the span of a few hours, they had all his wounds cleaned and sealed, and he was covered in bandages, keeping them in place.

"No running around, okay? The wounds need to stay closed."

She instructed, like a nurse might.

As they were finishing up and getting Kitajo dressed, an old woman came out with a tray piled high with rice balls, and few slabs of cooked beef on the side.

"Ah! Grandma? How did you know…"

The old woman rolled her eyes.

"He's screaming loud enough to wake the whole valley up, how could I not hear? Silly girl. There was no need to lie to me."

Her gaze softened as she finished her sentence. Clearly, she too found comfort within the girl's kind nature.

"Alright, you dirty old men! Get your hands off my granddaughter and get yourself some grub!"

She commanded, setting the plate the food down on a bench nearby.

Gengyo barely knew how to react to all this goodwill. It was an eternal problem that faced every human being. Within the world, you would often find the worst scum, and wish to turn away from everyone. But then, you would also find people like these, people with such unfathomable goodwill, that compared to the rest they could be labelled as saints. People who were worth fighting for.

Chapter 94: The Road Home

The young farmgirl - who's name they later learned was Sanada – stayed up till late in the night, helping them to treat their injuries. But the going was tough and one had to be delicate and patient, else it was all too easy to make the wound worse. And so, by the time they turned in to sleep, only three people had their injuries cleaned and dressed. Alongside Kitajo there was Ii – who had been rather insistent – and Morohira who had been in extremely poor shape.

Sanada's grandmother provided them with enough food and drink to satisfy them, helping them out with their recovery. And now they lay upon the hay, with a fire roaring nearby, feeling a lot less hopeless than they when they had first woken up.

"Miura?"

Kitajo called out tentatively, testing to see where he was still awake.

"Yeah?"

"We said a lot of things on that hill… I… I don't know how to feel about it now. Will the road we have taken mean we'll end up hurting people like Sanada-san?"

It was a difficult question, and Gengyo felt no impatience in answering it.

"We'll do what we wish to do, Kitajo. We can protect those who deserve protecting, and crush those who do not. That's all there is to it."

"Oh… So, we just do what we want?"

"Exactly. That's what it means to be truly free."

"Hah…"

He let out a sigh of relief. Clearly, the thought of harming people like Sanada had been tough for him to bear.

But it was tough for Gengyo too. Good people – or atleast, those he saw to be good – those were the people who created meaning in his path.

Within a few days time, all of them had their injuries seen too, and they were well on their way to making a full recovery. And then, it came time to bid farewell.

"So, you're off eh?"

Granny Sanada had asked.

"That we are."

Gengyo had responded, smiling.

"The path of a soldier is a rough one. Who will you be rejoining now, Oda or Imagawa?"

The men shared a glance at her question, recalling what they had spoken the previous night.

"None. We are men of the Red Feather, and it's time for us to go home."

"The Red Feather?" she raised an eyebrow, repeating the name. "Mmm, never heard of it."

"You will, in time. And should there ever come a time when you're in need, you can send for us, and we will come to your aid. We will never forget the kindness that you've shown us."

"That's right…"

The men murmured in agreement. From the darkness of the battlefield, they had been bathed within the two's warm light.

"Yeah, yeah. You just look after yourselves now."

She waved aside their thanks with haste.

"Mhmm, make sure you stop playing with guns!"

Sanada said sweetly, as though their injuries had been a result of their own foolishness.

As they walked away, and waved. As they left, they felt rather odd, and some felt a degree of homesickness. They had been at that cozy little farm a matter of days, and had been rendered so attached. On their backs, they left with more than they had come with. Each shouldering enough food for ten days – more than enough for them to make it back home.

But before they took to the road, there was one final stop they had to make.

"It's time, Niwa-san."

They constructed a funeral pyre for their fallen comrades – the few who had made it out of the forest. And as they lit those few bodies in flames, giving them back to the gods.

They remembered all who they had fought alongside, and made a promise. A promise that they would be avenged.

'Goodbye, brother.'

He thought sadly, sending his best wishes to all of the fallen. They stared up at the towering flames, watching the smoke fly upwards, imagining the spirits of their comrades to be part of it.

"Watch over us. We will provide you with all the entertainment you could wish for! On your names, we swear that Imagawa will fall!"

Gengyo called out, as the rest seconded his cry.

"We swear it!"

Kitajo called out, tears streaming down his face.

"I promise, Yoritomo! We're going to kill that fucker!"

Aritada seconded, in a similar state.

"Masaatsu… I'll give them hell for ya."

Morohira said, a little more reserved.

"Niwa, my master. I hope you are able to reunite with your beloved."

Jikouji said sadly, recalling the tragedy that befell Nakatane's wife.

They spent the evening sitting vigil for the fallen warriors, reaffirming their resolve, letting their imagination run wild as they pictured the events of the future, and demanded justice from themselves, rather from the powers above.

And then, when morning came, and the sun peaked its head above the horizon, they set foot upon the road, and began the long march home.

They were able to cover the distance more quickly than they had on the way there, as now they did not have a massive army to slow them down. But they had to remain as inconspicuous as possible. They disposed of their battered armour, and had hidden their swords, posturing as merchants. But still, whenever they saw an Imagawa flag, they steered well clear.

As they walked, he worried about how he would speak to the people. They had left as 150 men, and had returned as 11. There would be many saddened faces left for him to see to. And there was Akiko too.

The dread of sharing the news with them almost made him not wish to return. But he did not slow his step in the least. It was something he could not avoid. Toyone and Tobishima would become their first step. They had to secure those two positions, and muster all that coin that they could manage, before they began on their path.

They did not push themselves too hard as they walked, and as a result, their condition improved with each passing day. By the time they ascended the final hill – behind which Toyone was hidden – they were almost back to their old selves.

When they arrived, it was just before dawn on a foggy morning. They had walked throughout the night, wanting to get home as quickly as possible, and knowing it to be near.

As they walked through the village streets, the only ones there to greet them were some chickens. They squawked loudly, announcing the return of the valiant.

Rokkaku, Kitajo and Aritada left quietly to pay a visit to their families. The rest continued on towards the Niwa mansion.

Two women stood guard, and stiffened at their approach. But they immediately lowered their weapons as they recognized the faces of Gengyo and Joukiji.

They briefly wondered where master Niwa was, but upon seeing the expression on the rest of the group's faces, they dared no ask, realizing something was very wrong.

Another female guard patrolled the interior, and hers was a face that many of them recognized. She paused midstride, looking their way, making out the faces of her father and brother.

A wild smile broke out on her face, as she forgot all about her position as head-guard, and cared not what the rest of the women thought of her. She rushed up, barrelling into them with her arms wide, crushing them in a tight hug.

"We're home, Rin."

Gengyo said softly, pleased to see her.

"Mmhmm! Welcome home Nii-san! Welcome home dad!"

Morohira shot a glance toward Gengyo, which Rin happened to catch sight of, wondering what was wrong. And then she glanced past them, looking amongst the men that had followed them here.

"Masaatsu…? Where's Masaatsu?"

She felt a dread within her heart as she asked that question, feeling as though she already knew the answer. When she saw the sad expression on their faces it was confirmed to true.

She held his gaze for a few seconds, searching for any signs of deceit, but when he did not reply, the dam broke, and the tears came forth.

"Masaaaatsssu!!"

She wailed in his chest.

"Masaaaatsssuuuu!!"

He attempted to comfort her as he rubbed her back. But in truth, he felt just the same as she. The loss of their brother was too painful to put into words. He was a good man. Too good a man to have fallen the way that he did – as a discarded dog. It was because of this that he dared not tell her how he died, at least not yet. He knew it would only make her pain worse, and cause her to feel as he did.

"He fought bravely, little sister. The enemy dared no approach even his corpse for fear of his wrath."

"*Sniff* I d-don't care… I don't care about *Sniff* about that… I just want my brother!"

He understood her words all too well. As did the rest of them. They looked around, uncomfortable at having to watch such an emotional scene. Yet there would only be more to come. And if they did not rid the world of Imagawa, there would be more still.

"Come on lass. Let's go see your mother."

Morohira unravelled her arms from around Gengyo, as he put his own arm around his shoulder, and nodded to his son, before leading her inside their house.

It was a wise move on his father's part, as he knew the lad had other matters to attend to. He was more than just her brother now. He was more than just his son. He was the master of two villages, and the sword that would cut down Imagawa. And on his shoulders, all that weight was placed. And so, he had to deal with his people first, before he was allowed to be a simple man once more, and before he was allowed to mourn alongside his family.

It was a cruel responsibility, but it was one that Nakatane had born for years without complaint. He would do the same, and more still.

He steeled himself, and took a step forward, nearing the main building. He had to pause before he opened the door, as he turned around to look at the men that followed behind him.

They nodded, reassuring him. Grateful for their support, he took a deep breath, and made his way inside. It looked just the same as he remembered it, but there was something unwelcoming about it now. As though the house was demanding the return of its master, and was insulted that someone of such low birth dared to step inside.

They removed their sandals, and stepped on the floor barefoot. He glanced around. In his mind the only direction he had given himself was to enter the main building. And now that he was here, he had no goal to speak of. He had merely wished to experience how he felt.

But as he looked upwards, he saw a swan staring down at them from the second floor.

Their eyes met, and she smiled warmly, ridding his heart of all apprehension.

'Oh, little swan, if you knew what news I bear then you would not dare to smile at me so sweetly.'

He lamented, not daring to speak out.

"Welcome home, Miura. Welcome home, Jikouji."

She said, as though truly happy to see them. Only Togashi and Jikouji knew of whom they were looking at, whilst the rest remained in a still silence, awed by her breathtaking beauty.

Chapter 95: Companionship

"What's the matter?"

She asked, quickly realizing that there was something wrong.

"I think you'd better sit down Niwa-san."

Her smile faded quickly as she examined his serious expression.

"Okay… Uhm… Please, go on ahead into the reception room, I'll be right down."

She invited them in with an apprehensiveness about her voice.

They sat cross-legged around the table, as Ii sniffed himself, wondering whether he would smell. They had not washed in many days, and he did not want a mere stench to ruin his chances with such a beauty.

She arrived with her maid in tow, who promptly asked whether they would like any tea.

"That would be great, thank you Shibata."

Jikouji said with a small smile.

The maid bowed, leaving them to their business, as she shuffled off into another room to fuss over their tea.

They sat in silence, not speaking until the maid returned with their tea, presenting it in front of them.

"Thank you."

Akiko said, receiving the tea with both hands.

Again, the maid left the room, and only then did Akiko dare to speak.

"It's about my father, isn't it?"

She had caught on rather quickly, and reluctantly, Gengyo responded with a nod. Her voice had sounded brave, as she sought to keep the shakiness out of it, but they could feel within the room that she was frightfully close to tipping over the edge.

"Is… Is he..?"

She dared not say the word, yet it was obvious what she was implying.

"He rests with our ancestors in Takamagahara."

Gengyo said solemnly. He himself was still raw from the tragedy of Nakatane's death, and he dared not imagine how much pain she was feeling right now.

A single, lonely tear drifted down her pale white cheek, as she sat kneeling, her hands firmly clasped. She dug her fingers into her palm, willing herself not to cry – not in front of so many people.

But no matter how hard she tried, the second tear still came from the other eye. Instead, she chose to ignore that it was happening - steeling her heart - and proceeded as though speaking of business that did not concern her.

"I see. What of my father's estate? How will we protect it?"

Jikouji took the opportunity – whilst she was still able to collect herself – to reassure her that plans were in motion, and she need not worry.

"I have pledged my sword to Miura, Akiko-chan. I trust that he will be able to lead the people, and to protect us from those that seek to do us harm. I know that Nakatane would agree with that choice."

"Yes, I agree with it also. If it's Tadakata, then it will be fine."

She struggled to smile at that, failing to realize that she had called Gengyo by his first name in front of so many. Jikouji took note of that, but said nothing – not yet.

Her voice - in her response - was quivering now, as she struggled to hold herself together. They could see that she was close to breaking down, and now they had said what they needed to, they thought it would be best to leave her in peace.

"We will take our leave then, my lady."

Jikouji said, returning to a more formal tone in a deliberate attempt to reassure her that her status would not be any less than it was before. Miura would merely serve as head of the household to ensure that their best interests were met, and that they would not be taken advantage of.

"Ah, yes, of course. I imagine you are all very busy, now that you are back… Please, do as you will."

She gave her permission without allowing too much emotion in her voice, but she was unable to meet any of their gazes, as her eyes were pinned firmly to the floor.

They quietly got up to leave, exiting through the sliding door.

"Ah, Miura, please stay a while. We have to… discuss how we will move forward."

Jikouji exchanged a glance with Gengyo, seeing past the falsity of their words. It was a new development for him, but he did not meet it with disapproval.

Within that one look, Jikouji let him know that he understood everything, and Gengyo seriously expected him to speak out. But the old man merely nodded, and left, leaving the two alone.

The young man watched their backs, as Jikouji took the lead of the rest, showing them where they might be able to catch some rest.

And then, with a deep breath, he turned to Akiko.

By the time he had turned around, her face was already flooded with tears, as she sobbed softly into her sleeve, trying to muffle the noise of her sniffing.

"T-tadakata… Why? Why… why did this… why did this have to happen?"

He eased himself down next to her, putting his arm around her waist.

"I'm sorry."

Was all he could manage. He knew how much trust Akiko had placed in him. Whilst he had never directly promised to protect her father, she had expected he would. He had presented himself as infallible, and yet he had returned with only a handful of people at his side.

"Stupid… That's not what I mean…"

She said sniffling, looking deep in his eyes, searching for any comfort that she could find within them.

"How?"

Was the word she forced out. She sought an explanation. Not as to why he died, but how.

"We were given an order that we could not refuse."

"What order?"

She kept her eyes firmly pinned to him, refusing to allow him to speak anything other than the absolute truth.

"The order to attack a unit of one thousand matchlock soldiers."

"Alone..? W-why would they do that?"

She asked a little breathlessly, her warm breath hitting his neck as he did his best to keep eye contact. He found it difficult to talk about it without growing angry. And that was the last thing he wished Akiko to see of him. His anger was monstrous – as was all of theirs.

"Because they could, Akiko. That is the only reason they need. We could not stand against them."

"But father… But father always came when they called… He was good… He was a good man… Why would they do that? Why to him..?"

"He was. He was the best of men. It is the honour of my life to be able to fight by his side. And It will be my honour to protect his beautiful daughter."

"Tadakata…"

She wept even more strongly, seeing that he could not answer her question. Why had her father died so fruitlessly…

"Guess what, Akiko?"

He embraced her tightly, as he spoke near her ear.

"Against a force of a thousand – they sent us to die, but we won. The Niwa army bested them. Your father, bested them. Though they sent him to his grave, he did not cower. He did far more than they expected of him. He is a hero. Hold that strong in your heart, because his blood runs through your veins."

"He… He's really gone?"

She held onto his hand, squeezing it tightly as she struggled to come to the realization that she would not see her father's face anymore. That she would not be able to hear his voice anymore. She was alone, she felt.

"No, he's here. More so than ever. Jikouji and I – we plan to make the world hear his name, because he granted us the strength we have. We will seek justice, and no one will ever forget that Nakatane, father of Akiko, was the greatest man to ever set foot in this province of ours."

"You want to fight more…? But you only… Ah… I will be alone again…"

"No, Akiko. From now on, we fight together. I will not leave your side, I swear it."

"Truly?"

She tilted her head upwards to look into his eyes, drawing some hope from that promise.

"Aye. I will build our little empire starting from this very village, until it reaches the gates of the Daimyo's castle, and his home becomes our home."

"An empire..?"

She repeated. She cared not for more power, but she understood that within his voice was passion and firmness. He truly believed in what he was saying. And if it could bring her father peace, then she would support him with all her heart.

"Indeed. No one will take from us again. We will do the taking. We will become gods that the likes of Imagawa will have to bow low toward for fear of doing us an offence."

"…I don't mind, as long as you are here… as long as you promise not to leave me alone… then… then I can see hope."

She reached her hand up to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin. She did not want to forget the shape of his face. She feared that if she were to let go, then he might disappear too. He might vanish within a cloud of ash, never to be seen again. And then the men would come, to tell her of his passing.

Her eyes were so full of sadness, but their beauty remained untainted. His had a similar mournful quality, but in them, he could not disguise the fire that burned. She noticed that, and more. She noticed that there was an edge to him now. And she noticed that his smile did not come so easily.

What she had felt developing in him before, when he first began his path of blood… Now it seemed about to consume him. But it was strong. So truly strong. Even if it had been the manifestation of pure evil, she would not reject it.

She placed her palm upon his chest, feeling his beating heart, reassuring herself that there was still life within his body.

He promised her grandness. He spoke words that should never come out of the mouth of a peasant. Yet she believed every single one of them. He had always been brilliant, but now he was downright terrifying. He had become a demon – but he was her demon. She could feel safe in his arms.

Her finger traced his lips as she brought her own close, searching for a warmth that she had not yet experienced. Searching for the truest confirmation of his words.

He did not resist her touch in the least, and instead, moved forward himself. For all that had broken inside of him, he needed this companionship.

Their lips met, and they kissed passionately, their eyes closed as they attempted to find an antidote for the throbbing pain within their hearts.

For his men, he vowed to be the bringer of chaos. He vowed to bring them the glory and justice that they so desired. But the facilities around his soul had crumbled. In accepting this grand burden, and in coming to terms with the death of those that he loved, he had become something other than himself. He had become a symbol that a human body could not hope to constrain.

This woman, so crushed from the loss of her father, acknowledged his brokenness, not through words but through action. Through the intertwining of their two aching hearts, they sought that which they could not find elsewhere. They made up for their incompetencies through the support of the other person, and from it, they gained a great strength.

Their lips parted, and their eyes opened. With that gaze that they shared was borne an understanding, as two very different people had their brains operating in tune with one another.

It was as though they sat in a world different from ours, and as Shibata came in to collect their cups, she found her feet unwilling to move any further for fear of disturbing such a perfect image.

"I love you, Miura Tadakata."

"I love you too, Niwa Akiko."

Chapter 96: Strangeness

After their talk, he left Akiko to relax, so that she might process what had been said, and process her father's death a little more emotionally.

He had been heartened to see her smile as they parted ways. And he too, left a little uplifted. He had wondered where the two of them stood for a while, but now that she felt the same way he did, he was left a little at ease.

But he was unable to go to sleep, as the others had. They had been up for longer than 24 hours, but his mind still would not allow him to rest. Within his veins still burned that anger that occupied his thoughts whenever he tried to relax. He did not wish to burden Akiko with it, but he feared she may have got a taste, despite how well he attempted to conceal it.

An old man seemed to have a similar problem, as they met one another in the garden.

"No rest for the wicked, eh?"

Such an expression seemed to have been made for the likes of them. They were fully willing to walk the path of wickedness if it meant exacting revenge for their master.

"Indeed. And the others?"

"Asleep, lad. How is Akiko?"

"Better."

"I had not realized you two knew each other. At least… not quite so well."

He smiled mischievously at the end part, causing Gengyo to shoot him a questioning glance.

"Relax. I'm not going to judge you. If anything, it seems like the perfect resolution to any problems to do with the splitting of power. When she becomes your wife, her position would be most stable."

Gengyo almost choked.

"Wife? Are you not rushing things ahead a little too much?"

"I wouldn't know, 'Tadakata'. Perhaps you might consider marriage after your child is born?"

He could not have cringed more heavily from the teasing way in which Jikouji uttered his name.

"…If I allow you any room to joke, there will be no end to this – but for the record, she still remains pure."

"Hoho, I'm sure she does."

He continued on with his jester-like teasing.

He shook his head at the old man's playfulness. Exhausted as he was, it was difficult to keep up.

"Since we both can't sleep, how about we get something done?"

Jikouji resumed a more serious tone, knowing that would pique the young man's interest.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Follow me."

He lead the way back into the main building, pottering through the lower floor, as they made their way through the kitchen and into a storage area.

There were numerous barrels and sacks of grain, and the area was dimly lit from lack of sunlight.

"Are we tallying food?"

Gengyo questioned, a little put off by the prospect. It was something that needed to be done, but it didn't exactly fill him with excitement.

"Watch."

He walked over to one of the panels on the wall, and put both hands against it. With a firm push, he slid it downwards. The panel responded immediately, sliding downwards as it disappeared into the floor, revealing a set of stairs that lead deeper underground.

"Clever."

The young man said approvingly. He had seen his fair share of secret doors from movies and the like, but had not seen one quite like this.

"Haha, I thought you might like it."

He led the way down the stone steps, closing the door up behind them. The area below was lit by candlelight, else it would have been impossible to see anything at all.

A few steps down, and they were in a small, musty-smelling room. The wood was rotting from the damp, but that was the last thing that drew the eye, for in the centre of the room sat a large, leather-bound chest. That was all there was in the entire room, and the contents of which seemed as obvious.

"Quite lacking as a treasure vault."

He commented as he made his way over to the chest.

"It was a little better, once, but as time went by it grew more and more empty. Now all that is left is this chest of coin."

He flung the lid back, looking a little disappointed as a layer of coin only just coated the bottom.

"300 gold?"

"Aye, around there lad."

"Mmm… Is this purely disposable money? Or is it being used to finance something else?"

"It's purely for us to have fun with."

"…Hm. 300 gold is a good amount."

"Far from enough to raise an army to take out Imagawa."

"True. But it'll be enough to create something respectable."

"You know, this excites me. We have the opportunity to build something new, entirely from the ground up. We can let our imaginations run wild."

"Aye. That is the only silver lining in all this. You know what our basis will be, do not you, old man?"

"Matchlocks. Those things are bloodying terrifying."

Jikouji guessed his thoughts straightaway.

"Exactly, matchlocks…"

He drifted off as a thought took hold.

"Will you train them as you did with the Special Forces unit? That was a powerful force."

"Mmm, I'm not sure. I will have more forces at my disposal, so I can afford to allow men to specialise."

"Aye, I suppose… but it might be worth keeping one unit to that standard. Their adaptability will be a powerful weapon on the battlefield."

His words were sensible and Gengyo took them to heart, as he ran the coin through his fingers, and contemplated their next move.

"300 gold, eh? We will need far more than this in future. It appears we have a good amount to think over. Thanks for bringing me here, Jikouji."

"No worries, it's my job as your advisor after all."

"Advisor?"

"Well, if I don't do it, who will?"

"Haha, that's true..."

He chuckled at the old man's straightforward answer. It seemed with his age also came a great maturity, as he appeared to be handling Nakatane's death better than the rest.

They left that barren treasure vault, and once more returned outside. They exchanged a few more words, before parting ways, and Gengyo wandered around, deep in thought.

He left by the mansion gates, with a nod to the two women standing guard. They returned his nod respectfully, though were unaware of his new status as their employer.

He began through the forest, and briefly wondered whether he should have invited Akiko along with him. But he decided that it would be better to leave her undisturbed, as he had promised to visit her once more this evening.

He made his way onto the shoreline of the lake, which had remained the same since he last left it. On a whim, he took a step forward toward the water, running the liquid through his fingers as he savoured the odd sensation.

He caught sight of his reflection in the water, and flinched. It was, of course, the face of Miura Tadakata, one that he thought he had become used to. But what surprised him were his eyes. Worn, tired eyes, that squinted as though ferocious. He had not realized his face was clenched as such, and struggled to relax it.

But he found that he could not, as those eyes still stared back. He looked at himself a while, feeling a frown growing, as his anger boiled at his own body being unwilling to heed his command. But the reflection did not frown, instead, it boasted a smile, a huge, wide grin that only increased in size till it distorted his face.

He lashed out with a clenched fist, horrified, disturbing his reflection upon the water. And when it had once more settled, the face was his own again.

'Am I going mad?'

He asked himself seriously. But then he found the answer to that question was unimportant. All that mattered was whether he was fit enough to carry out the task he had set for himself. Just thinking of it filled him with a vengeful energy, as he clenched his fist, and emitted a low growl despite himself.

He only realized what he was doing after a swan nesting nearby took flight, disturbed by the noise.

'Calm down, Gengyo. We'll get the fucker.'

He told himself, taking deep breaths to try and still his racing heart.

Suddenly, he found himself glancing toward the middle island, wishing to go there. He looked around for his raft, and searched through the reeds where he had left it. But it was nowhere in sight. He assumed the thunderstorm must have washed it away.

But he wished to go there, and looked over longingly. He wondered whether this was how Akiko felt when she sat on the shoreline, alone, imagining what she might find on that central island.

Perhaps in the past he would have simply turned away, and sighed, realizing that on that day he was unlikely to make it to the central island.

But now, he looked upon it as a personal offence. He wished to go to the central island, and so he would go.

He stepped into the water, as the cold assaulted his sandaled feet. He only took a moment to acknowledge the chill, before he waded in further, getting past his knee. He ignored the water as it began to soak the bottom half of his kimono, and he continued further inwards.

The bed of the lake was covered in stones, and it felt sold beneath his feet. For a while, the depth did not grow any deeper, even as he himself grew closer to the central island. And then, as he placed his foot on a rather unstable rock, it slipped, rendering him fully submerged within the water.

He gasped at the sudden burst of cold, but grew calm quickly, as his body realized that it was still capable of breathing.

He then committed fully, diving underwater to swim with the fishes. He would have to return home in sodden clothing, but he found that he did not care. Such a thing was trivial. What was important was that he did not let anything stand in the way of his desire to reach the central island.

And so he arrived, soaked. When he got there, he wondered why he had wanted to come in the first place. All there was to see was a few nesting birds. And then, with a shrug, he had dove back into the lake and returned to shore.

"A bath – that would be nice."

He turned his feet in the direction of the Niwa mansion, and before he knew it, he was back walking through the woods, failing to see the point in this little walk of his, but somehow, he left feeling triumphant.

A fox had it's back to him, and barely flinched as he approached. He wondered whether it was an odd sort of fox, perhaps more tame than others, so he called out to it.

"A pleasant day for a hunt, is it not?"

The fox jumped, surprised. It took one glance in his direction, before bolting into the undergrowth.

"Ah."

Was his parting comment as he watched the fox run away.

By the time he reached the mansion, he had forgotten that his clothes were wet at all, and exchanged greetings with the guardswomen, with water running down his nose, and his clothes emitting small showers with each step he took. They glanced at him oddly, but said nothing. And he walked past with his head held high as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

He bumped into Togashi on his way down the path. It seemed he was on his way to the bathhouse.

"Miura… By the gods, why are you so wet?"

"Hm?"

It was only then that he glanced at his clothes and remembered how wet they were.

"Ah. I am."

Togashi looked at him with a hint of concern in his eyes.

"Are you alright, Miura? You don't look so good."

Chapter 97: A Speech

He only managed to suffer through a single hours worth of sleep, but the previous day he had already given the order for the villagers to be assembled.

He stood there, on a wooden platform, with Jikouji at his side as they watched the villagers gather. The first drops of rain splattered down, lightly coating their hair in a series of wet droplets.

It seemed word had spread, and the villagers had an inkling of why they were here. The gazes they shot his way were not friendly. But he barely registered that, and struggled to keep his eyes open and his gaze focused.

They seemed to be taking forever to gather, and his gaze became distracted, as he observed how the mud gradually moistened and became stickier and wetter with each person that stepped upon it. He took notice of the rising intensity with which their disgusted expressions were manifest in response to the filth that clung to their feet.

'We are rather predictable, are we not?'

He thought to himself, as he watched their behaviour. Soon they had all gathered, but he was still focused on that single patch of soil, that was now sticky with mud, and held a mould of the previous person's footprints.

"Ahem…"

Jikouji tapped on his back, and he turned around with a questioning look. The old man motioned outwards, directing his gaze toward the crowd.

'Ah. They have gathered.'

He said, finally realizing. They all looked at him so expectingly, as though they were part of a system that only he had control of.

"Welcome, people of Toyone and Tobishima."

He began, startling himself in the process. He spoke the words, and that was most certainly his voice. But it felt as though he was not speaking, as he was able to observe what he was saying as if he was standing behind himself.

It was a most peculiar sensation, but he continued on, appearing undisturbed.

"I am afraid the reason I have gathered you today is not a pleasant one."

'Ha, not a pleasant one? Do put it more mildly.'

He thought, criticising his own words as he spoke them.

"Those comrades that left with us have been unable to return. They have begun a journey of their own, in through the gates of Takamagahara."

He studied the sadness that was reflected within their expressions, and the cries of anguish that rang out at the understanding of his words.

Had they not expected this, when only a few men had returned? Surely they knew? Or perhaps they knew, but did not wish to know, and harboured a hope that only resulted in hurting themselves further.

'Strange how we do that, isn't it?'

As the crowd grew restless, he realized that he had paused for far too long, and began to speak once more, after clearing his throat.

"They died honourably, but before their time. The man who lead us on this campaign – Imagawa – did not hold our lives in high regard."

This was a new development for all. It seemed Rokkaku and the like had been unable to share it with their families, and they listened in close, the raging bull of anger waiting to be let loose so that it could trample sadness underfoot.

"The Oda matchlock unit, numbering into the thousands – they were near. And who does he send to halt their charge?"

He questioned, setting the scene.

'Must you be so dramatic?'

He criticised once more.

"The Niwa army. By then we numbered a mere 130, and he named us cowards, before ordering our charge to our deaths."

"BASTARD!"

An angry mother cried out.

"Indeed."

He nodded in response to her outburst, remaining composed.

"And so, what were we to do, when we have an enemy at both our front and backs? Do we flee off to the sides, and cower? The men of the Niwa army did not. They served their lord to the end, and charged in, under the barrage of enemy fire."

"And that was our end…"

'You despicable man, speaking so playfully about the deaths of their husbands.'

He was thoroughly disgusted with the words that he himself spoke. He had intentionally lead on the crowd, so that when he told them of their glorious triumph, it would be all the more dramatic.

"Or it would be, had our hearts been weak! The Niwa army did not stop there! Even as they were riddled in bullets, our brave men charged forth."

"And onto the enemy forces that numbered far above ours – we unleashed hell. The bravest men this land of ours ever had the glory of seeing. They fought to their very last breaths, and we defeated that force, sending them fleeing with their tail between their legs."

They hung on to his every world, thoroughly enthralled by his storytelling, and as he told of their valiant victory, there were gasps of surprise, and many tears shed in their honour.

"Many brave men have died serving that detestable Daimyo of ours, and among them include our great master, Niwa Nakatane – may he enjoy eternal life in Takamagahara."

'…Will you stoop any lower? You use the name of your friend merely to insight the hearts of the people. Does your indecency know no bounds?'

He knew what he was doing, and hated himself for it. But no one else seemed to realize. Even the men that served under him, even Jikouji. They thought he spoke eloquently, and appropriately. But he did not meet his own standards.

"BUT THAT SERVICE IS OVER! WE HAVE PUT TOO MUCH INTO THOSE UNGRATEFUL HANDS!"

He raised his voice, speaking passionately, driving at the emotion that he had stirred up, and using it to its full effectiveness.

"THAT'S RIGHT!"

The villagers voiced their agreement.

"THAT SCUM DOESN'T DESERVE OUR LOYALTY!"

They cried – mainly women, for that was all who they had left.

"IT IS TIME THAT WE – THE PEOPLE – TAKE CONTROL OF OUR OWN FATE, OUR OWNS LIVES. WE WILL DECIDE WHEN WE LIVE, AND WHEN WE DIE!"

"YEAH!"

Voices of agreement resounded out

'…You are the embodiment of hypocrisy. You label you and them as the same, merely so you can state that you are not. You do all this so you can announce that you are the new master of these lands.'

"I VOW TO TAKE REVENGE! JOIN ME, PEOPLE OF NIWA, AND LET US BE REBORN. LET US ASSUME THE NAME OF MEN AND WOMEN OF THE RED FEATHER. WE WILL DON OUR ARMOUR, AND WE WILL RAISE OUR BLADES, TO ENSURE JUSTICE IS CARRIED OUT FOR THE PEOPLE!"

"MIURA!!"

They rallied at his words, not even realizing that they had accepted him as their new master.

'…And there it is. How can they be so blind? How can I be the only one to see? These are the people I must be care for… The people I must guide so that revenge can be carried out… But how can they be so sheep-like?'

They clapped their hands and cheered at his words. Women shed tears, and let loose mournful cries, cursing Imagawa's name, and demanding the return of their husbands. They were being plunged into a bloody battle, and yet they did not realize it.

He turned to Jikouji. His job was done. And the old man nodded in approval, his eyes full of respect.

'…Even you are unable to see what we have done to them?'

'This… This shouldn't be their war. They should merely sit by as observers, and take refuge away from all the chaos. They should have time to heal their hearts. And yet they are so eager to walk down a new path. To experience a new pain.'

He stepped down from the platform, and walked through the crowd. They reached out to him, calling his name, offering him praise, as they touched his clothes, and grasped onto his shoulder. He felt wholly uncomfortable – but they loved it, and he could not understand why.

'Is it… Is it from sleeping so little? Is that why I can not relate to them?'

He wondered why he felt so distanced from them, yet they were right next to each other.

He did his best to smile at them as he left, and as Jikouji struggled to follow behind him. But they were maniacal. They were as fired up as he had first been, and from this distance, he almost could not understand why.

'Perhaps it is because I am a peasant?'

He pondered. He had climbed from where he was, to the master of the village. Perhaps that was why they saw him as one of their own. But that was merely a title. It was not a written agreement that forced him to act decently toward them, so why did they trust him so?

He quickly concluded that he could not understand, and likely would never be able to. But just as quickly, trying to understand at all seemed pointless, and he questioned why he had bothered in the first place.

People could get on with one another perfectly well without being entirely intune with how the other operated. And still, why should he care about how easily they were swayed, and how prone they were to be taken advantage of? They were his people now. And it was up to him to behave decently toward them. The fact that they were vulnerable mattered not, he merely had to not exploit them.

He barely managed to free himself from them, and set off down them road, not looking back, even as some ran behind him and called his name. He was tired of wearing that face. He sought somewhere where he might think a little more clearly.

"Where are you heading off to, lad?"

Jikouji pulled back on his arm, seeking answers.

"I will not be gone long, old man, but there is thinking to be done."

He informed him, doing his best to keep his true emotion from his face. Apparently, he had done so well enough, as Jikouji merely nodded, and let him go as he pleased.

He walked until the mud and gravel road become cobble, enjoying the sensation of the hardstone beneath his feet for a brief moment, before he grew tired and began to walk on the grass.

The grass ran out, and he was forced to make do with trees. The amount of debris in the forest made it difficult to walk without something getting in your way, or under your feet, and after the third instance of having to walk around a low hanging branch, he felt personally insulted.

He looked at the rotten piece of wood with disgust.

'Why do you exist simply to make this path harder to traverse?'

He lashed out with his fist, expecting it to fall easily. But it appeared it was not so rotten on the inside, and only a small cracking sound could be heard, but the branch remained stable.

The pain it caused to his knuckles was severe, but it proved stimulating, and he decided that he quite liked the motion, and swung his fist out once more.

With the second punch, the skin tore from his knuckles, and blood began to be drawn. But there was a crack too, so he was not left completely unmotivated.

"Come on you bastard…"

He taunted the lifeless branch, readying his fists, ignoring the pain, as he punched out once more, and sent it splintered from the tree.

"Hmph."

He looked at the fallen branch with distaste as he walked over it, suddenly realizing that he had acted in foolishness.

'It was just a branch…'

He found that he was shocked at his own behaviour. Such a trifle would have never bothered him before, and yet here he was, issuing a challenge to something that could barely be classed as alive, as though it was the most despicable being in the world, and only existed for him to crush it. Or perhaps, for it to crush him.

Chapter 98: The Fields

He straightened out his kimono, and looked at his bloodied fist oddly, struggling to comprehend why he had acted so violently. But then he remembered the brief relief he'd felt, as he made the decision to cease caring, and throw a punch toward the branch. Somehow, he felt the urge to do it some more.

'Stop doing such stupid things. If anyone else saw that, you'd have a great deal of trouble explaining it.'

He advised himself. He stepped amongst the branches, only allowing the most brief surges of irritation as the brambles opened wounds upon the skin of his shin. They tore at his kimono too, making it appear more fibrous that it otherwise would. There was not a straightforward path through this section of the forest, and he found himself having to bear with it.

The birds engaged in song, though they did so rapidly, as though they were having an argument with one another.

It was rather unpleasant to walk through a forested area after it had rained, and he found that his feet became soaked rather quickly, as did the lower part of his kimono. Discomfort, it seemed, was drawn to him.

But finally, as he skipped down one last hill – attempting to remain upright, without muddying his bottom too savagely – he was a mere step away from exiting the forest.

And then he emerged at a site that he had visited rather recently. It was the field in which they had slain Toda upon. The site of his very first battle. Yet he felt nothing.

Part of the reason he had come here was in the hopes of inspiring a change within his emotions. But there was nothing at all. Not even the slightest flicker. His thoughts had been so busy as of late, he had been unable to sleep. And when he did sleep, it was fitful, for he felt exposed and vulnerable, and his body kept reminding him that he needed to be doing something else.

Two systems collided on a constant basis. That of his primitive system, that sought to sate the desires of a normal functioning human body. And that of his modern system, which sought to succeed in the world.

And so he stood there, in that field, amongst the long grass, and he walked, allowing his mind to wander freely – for it would do that of its own accord anyway, even if he attempted to resist it.

The wet grass caused even more damp to his clothing, but by this point, it made barely any difference.

He wandered to the very position where he remembered having slain Toda. By now there was nothing that remained, for the bodies had been buried. It looked like any other place on the field might. Even the blood had long since been washed away.

"Mmm…"

He spun around, acknowledging the great size of the field. It was huge. A modern building firm would have a grand time if they were gifted such a plot of land. You could build an entire shopping district on it.

'An entire shopping district, eh?'

He mused to himself, trying to picture such a scene.

"Hoh…"

A sudden idea popped into his head, causing a glimmer of excitement. This was the first time since his return that he had felt anything pop into his head that was even remotely worthwhile.

"Rice fields…"

He thought, as his smile began to grow. It was a simple term, and to most, if they heard his thoughts, they would think it to be a simple idea. But the scale that he envisioned was far beyond that of what a normal man might.

He had been thinking relentlessly over the problem of how to attain more coin. He was a man that preferred to think of a better way of doing things rather than simply throwing more numbers at a problem in order to solve it.

But in this, it seemed, that more numbers would prove to be that different way of thinking. Rice fields, in themselves, would not serve to create an incredibly large amount of coin, though it was nothing to sniff at. The fields of Toyone would only create an annual income of about 200 gold, as they had to keep the majority of the grain to live off. And of that gold, the workers would have to be paid, so that left you with around 190. The same could be expected of Tobishima.

Yet this land here was most certainly fertile, and was large to the extreme. It had never been cultivated before, as it lay on the border between two territories, and the two villages likely never had the man power to cultivate it anyway.

He reasoned, that if they were to use the land to it's fullest, then they could create a field ten times bigger than all the land around Toyone that had been put to farming use. That field, in turn, would generate around 2500 gold, because none of that grain would be used to live off. But certain things could be done to increase the price that grain would sell for, and his grin widened even further at that thought.

The only problem was, of course, time. They were fast nearing the end of planting season. Most farms would have sowed their seed by now, and be waiting to harvest the rice within September – October. But the benefits of them sowing that amount of seed would be immense – though they would have to wait a few months to gleen anything from it.

Still, he made a mental note to most certainly put that plan into motion given the opportunity.

"What are you smiling so creepily about?"

Came a woman's voice from behind him. He turned, without showing a hint of being startled. He had, after all, been expecting her.

"Long time no see, Isabella. I trust you are well?"

Her beautiful face contorted to reveal her true emotions, as she let it became a mask of disgust.

"Ha. As if you care about that. I did your little job – where's my money?"

She asked, straight to the point. She had been waiting here since three days ago, and had grown irritable.

He shrugged at her rude mannerisms, in too good a mood from his recent idea to let her sully it. He reached inside his kimono, retrieving a leather pouch. It weighed heavy in his palm as he laid it there.

Her focus immediately went to it, as her heartbeat quickened. This was the moment she had been waiting for. The grand reveal. It was her time to find out whether she had been played the fool or not.

He tossed it through the air carelessly, as if it mattered not to him, and she, in contrast, became flustered, flailing around as she struggled to stop it from hitting the floor.

"Nice catch."

He commented drilyly at her less-than-elegant display.

She shot him a dark look, but said nothing, as her attention returned entirely to the pouch. Not wishing to wait a moment longer, she pried it open, revealing the gold coins that sat inside. Her breath caught in her throat. She had never seen so much wealth – atleast, not in gold form. She had been able to dress in golden finery gifted by Toda, but none of it had ever truly been her own.

"You carried out your role remarkable well. There is 100 gold in there, as we discussed."

He began to walk away, satisfied that their business was complete.

"Wait!"

She called out to him. She herself was unsure why she had done so, and so her question was not what she truly wished to ask.

"…Why were you so early? I had expected to wait another 20 days atleast."

"Why indeed, eh? I suppose, like you, I crave a certain amount of freedom."

He answered cryptically with a smile.

"Is that all? I'll be going then."

He made the effort to confirm with her, so that he wouldn't be stopped again.

"Ah… What… What now?"

She asked a little hopelessly, embarrassed despite herself. She had lived her life as someone else's slave for the longest time, and then, she had been set free with a goal which allowed her a sense of purpose. Now that such things were all done, she did not know quite what to do with herself.

"Hm… What now indeed? Well, that should last you until you grow old, should you spend it wisely. But if you ever need any more in future, come and visit me in Toyone. It's just across that field. I have need of a woman with your sort of skills."

And then, he really did walk away, leaving her clutching her bag of gold, as she watched his back, with rain dripping from her face, and soaking her hair. Only one thought was present in her mind.

'What a strange man.'

They had only ever spoken briefly, and even then, it was discussing business, and trading information. But she found herself wishing to know more about him. He was an odd sought. He appeared to hold no interest for her beauty at all, yet it was not as though he didn't acknowledge it.

And the prediction he had made: that the Oda army would charge at noon after a thunderstorm. That was terrifying to her. Almost prophetic. She had wished to ask him how he knew, but it was so hard to get a grasp on what he was thinking.

He was the first man that she had met whom she could not control freely. Even Toda, for all his maliciousness, he was an entirely predictable man – even his outbursts were rather predictable.

That excited her. And even with that bag of coin in front of her, the focus of her gaze was now entirely on him, as he wandered through the field of grass, as though he had not a care in the world.

And so her poor understanding of him was truly manifest. He was a man far from infalliable. Far from carefree. And he himself was beginning to understand that. The only thing he had truly believed in was his heart.

He believed that, if he fully applied himself, and used all the fire his body had to offer, that he would be able to over come any obstacle. But to do that meant to sacrifice. A fire did not burn without fuel. And he was already beginning to feel the consquences of such an action.

In strength, he found symoltaneous weakness. In his comrades, he had experienced warmth, and belonging, and had been happier than he had ever had been in his life. But now that they were snatched away, he had reached a point of vulnerability that he would never have allowed himself to hit before.

That was all he could promise himself. That was the only comfort he could offer. That no matter what had to be done, he would do it, even if it meant becoming a monster that all – even his loved ones – would fear. Even then, he was willing to do it.

And so, as he walked back to his people, with the world believing him to be strong, he allowed himself to be weak. Weak so that he would not succumb to any aggrogance. Weak so that he was aware of his weakness. Weak so that he always grow, seeking strength.

He was a man of such a chaotic state of mind, but with that as his philosophy, then such a man was likely invincible. He was likely able to overcome any obstacle. Yet he could not boast of such an ability, not yet, not ever. He sat so far at the bottom of the mountain that it was almost laughable. But the advantage he held above everyone else? He still retained his arms and legs.

Chapter 99: Outlandish

"Jikouji."

He called out to the old man, who sat on the porch of the main building, watching with distaste as the rain continued to fall.

"You were out in all this? You'll catch a cold lad."

He warned.

"Indeed. I'll take a bath later, but for now I have something important to discuss."

He hurried up onto the porch, and disappeared inside, removing his sandals, before impatiently motioning for his advisor to follow him.

"Alright, I'm coming."

He replied as though tired, though he was still quite obviously curious as to what the lad had to say.

He hurried up the stairs, leaving wet footprints as he went. His clothes were soaked, and drizzled slightly on the ground as he walked. It was not the first time the master had returned drenched – though, at least this time, there was an obvious explanation as to why he was so wet, yet the day prior, he had managed it whilst the skies were clear.

He passed Akiko as he reached the landing, and her face broke out into a warm smile as she saw him, only for that smile to waver slightly as she noticed how wet he was.

"Tadakata..! What are you doing being soaked again? You really will catch a cold, you know!"

She scolded him for his carelessness. His health was of great concern. Not just to her, but to the rest of the household, and to the rest of the village.

"Sorry, we can take a bath together later, but there's something that really can't wait."

She blushed bright red at his suggestion, as he disappeared into Nakatane's old office, and set about his task.

'Ah… How can he say such things without getting embarrassed in the least?'

She felt a little envious of that ability of his, and that envy only grew as her embarrassment deepened upon seeing Jikouji walk up the stairs a moment later, clearly having heard what he had said. He gave a small shrug, as if it was nothing to worry about, before making idle conversation in an attempt to make her more comfortable.

"The lad seems to have an idea."

Was all he could manage.

She nodded, unable to say anything in reply, hoping he would quickly leave so that she could calm herself.

"Come on, old man."

Gengyo stuck his head back outside the office door.

He raised his eyebrows, sharing a look with Akiko, before doing as he was bid, and following the young man inside.

He noticed that Gengyo had gone in there a day prior, but he had not done anything apart from stare avidly at a map for hours. Even his food went untouched. At one point, he thought he might have fallen asleep – which was certainly understandable – but when he went inside to check on him, he saw that his eyes were wide open.

The map was still in the same place he had left it, and he stood over it once more now, gesturing for Jikouji to come and look at what he was pointing at.

His finger rested on the area between Tobishima and Toyone.

"The road between Tobishima and Toyone? What of it?"

"It is part of our land as well now, is it not? Since we own both settlements. How many rice seeds do we have left?"

"It is. And what of rice seeds? We finished planting them a long time ago."

He maintained a neutral face, as he clearly did not understand the point in the boy's questions.

"I plan to cultivate this land. How quickly can we begin planting?"

Jikouji went silent as he continued to stare, not quite comprehending what he had heard. He blinked twice, before opening his mouth in disbelief.

"That… That is what you were so excited to share with me?"

Gengyo nodded seriously.

"Yes, it will become a powerful asset in the months to come. If anything, this might be the trump card we need to win the fight against Imagawa."

He continued to stare, apparently baffled. Not only was the idea not feasible, it was also pointless. He wondered whether the boy had started to lose some of his wit, as this was certainly not up to par with his usual ideas.

"…More rice fields, you say? That is what will win us the war against Imagawa?"

"Exactly. How long would it take to get the whole field ploughed and ready for planting?"

His face was still laced with disbelief, and he found that it would likely to be easier to answer his questions, rather than get answers for his own.

"Hah… You're looking at a few months lad. Even if you used the entire labour force we have available – some 300 people – then you're still looking at more than a month."

He nodded a couple of times, seemingly agreeing with the information. It was in line with his own predictions of how long it would take.

"Oxen."

"Pardon?"

"How many oxen do we have?"

"…? None?"

"I see."

He had thought they would at least hold a couple. But he supposed that it was pointless for them to keep any. The beasts were worth far more in their butchered form. It was cheaper just to pay workers to do the work. Since they lacked any oxen, he wagered they would not have a plough either.

"The price of oxen?"

He dared not ask why he was asking about oxen, as he feared it would be for as preposterous a reason as he had been asking about the quantity of rice seed they had remaining.

"10 gold, perhaps."

He said with a sigh, clearly reluctant to have to answer it.

"And a plough?"

He held his breath, as he had an idea where this was going.

'By the gods… He's actually serious about this…'

Gengyo was looking at him expectantly, waiting for a reply, and he did not have the heart to let him down.

"…40 gold, at least. You won't find anyone near here that makes them, though."

"It's within our budget. If we use 6 oxen, and 3 ploughs, then we'll be able to have it done in a matter of days."

"What?! Miura, is that not too much of an investment for something that will take months to yield any results? You're surely of the same opinion as I, that with Imagawa we need to strike whilst the iron is hot, and secure a foothold whilst he is away."

He did not grow impatient with the older man for his outburst, as it was understandable. But he could see the long term power that these new fields of rice would give them, was comparable to that of any army.

But he could not say why yet. Not until he himself knew the specifics. He merely wished to make sure that it was a card that would remain within their hand.

"We will spend all we have on this, Jikouji. It will prove worth it in the long term. But that meagre amount of gold we have is not enough for what we require anyway."

"So just because it's not enough, you're going to spend it all? Surely saving it would be wiser. We'd be able to muster an army far quicker that way, rather than waiting months for… For rice to grow."

He was growing angry, and his arguing was more passionate.

"Jikouji. It will be fine. Please, allow me to carry out this project of mine, okay? Consider it a gift. Something that you're tolerating merely because of my selfishness. But I will promise you this, in exchange for your cooperation: by the end of the next week, our purse will grow by more a thousand gold."

Perhaps he could have explained his thought process to Jikouji. Perhaps the old man would have been able to understand his reasoning. But something held him back from doing so, because his plan was not entirely… ethical.

His old eyes went round at the mention of such a figure, and he squinted hard, trying to see whether the lad was merely trying to fool him.

"How?"

"I will begin planning for it immediately, but first I require your cooperation within this matter."

"Miura-"

Gengyo cut him off.

"Trust me, Jikouji. We will be working together for a long time, and there will be things that we are unable to share with one another. When those times come, we will have to rely on the trust we have built up."

He turned away, and breathed a long sigh through his nose. He could not see the rationality behind the rice field manoeuver. It seemed like a waste of resources. But the promise of a thousand gold was something he could not ignore. With that amount, they could certainly build a respectable – but perhaps small – force.

"Alright, lad. I trust you. But I hope, for the sake of the goal we share, that the promise you just made was not a false one."

The young man looked him in the eye as he replied.

"I swear that it wasn't."

Jikouji gave a nod, feeling the firmness and confidence within those words.

"Good. Then I will work to set this 'project' of yours in motion. Understand though, Miura, even if you manage to plough the entire field, seedlings still must be planted, and then you must flood the entire field before the weeds begin to grow."

Gengyo waved his hand.

"You needn't worry about those matters. We will be able to get the seed planted – once ploughed – within a day. And the flooding… Well, I've got another plan for that. My earlier question though: do we have enough rice seed to fill that field?"

Jikouji gave a dry chuckle at the outlandish question.

"Not even close. You'd need a whole cart full. That will probably cost 15-20 gold."

He nodded, pleased with that figure.

"Good, that's well within our budget."

The price for so much seed was, of course much cheaper than the projected yield. Rice itself was the seed, but after it was processed a certain amount, it lost its plant-bearing properties, and so, each year, certain amounts of the grain were set aside specifically for the purposes of replanting.

"300 gold, is it?"

"200. I gave 100 away."

He didn't bother to explain what he did with that hundred gold, nor did Jikouji feel the need to ask. He merely pulled a bit of a surprised face, and muttered: "that would have been nice to know."

"Well, that's all I can think of, Jikouji. If you would acquire those things as soon as possible, then the project will go underway. I'll focus on fulfilling my promise to you, and earning us that thousand gold."

The old man took that the be the signal that their meeting was over, and he moved toward the door, far more tired than he had been when he had first entered the room.

"The things you require will take a few days to come at least. You will be lucky if you manage to even plant it all before the month is out, never mind flooding it."

He nodded, that amount of time was acceptable.

"It's fine. Do you best, Jikouji."

"Same to you."

And then he left, leaving Gengyo to pour over the map once more, as he contemplated just how he might acquire that thousand gold. It had been a bit of a spur-of-the-moment promise, but it seemed necessary at the time. He only hoped that he would not fail to deliver, else his relationship with the old man would likely deteriorate quite rapidly.

"Tadakata… Please take a bath."

Akiko stuck her head around the open door, seeing that Jikouji had left. Gengyo had been shivering for a good while, but had barely noticed it, as he was so focused on moving forward with the specifics.

"Aye… I am a little chilly. Shall we eat together when I'm done?"

She smiled at his suggestion warmly.

"That would be lovely. I'll go and let Shibata know. See you later, Tadakata."

"See ya."

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: The Rice Fields
Chapter 2: A Broken Home
Chapter 3: Yumi Crafting
Chapter 4: Revenge
Chapter 5: A Deal
Chapter 6: Connections
Chapter 7: The Swan
Chapter 8: Niwa Akiko
Chapter 9: Market Day
Chapter 10: The Philosophy of the Sword
Chapter 11: The Horse and The Prince
Chapter 12: A Miserable Morning
Chapter 13: The Scorn of The Village
Chapter 14: Mount Fujiyama

Chapter 15: The Peaceful Lake and the Heavy Heart

Chapter 16: Flooding
Chapter 17: A Plan
Chapter 18: The Master
Chapter 19: Due Preparations
Chapter 20: Fight Day
Chapter 21: The Slaughter Begins
Chapter 22: Aftermath
Chapter 23: Pleasant
Chapter 24: Madness
Chapter 25: The Gaze of a Slighted Man
Chapter 26: Justice?
Chapter 27: The Price of Misinformation
Chapter 28: Bowmanship
Chapter 29: Toda The Honourable Samurai
Chapter 30: A Fly on the Wall
Chapter 31: War
Chapter 32: The War Council
Chapter 33: A Harsh Lesson
Chapter 34: The Importance of Family
Chapter 35: A Friend
Chapter 36: An Unexpected Responsibility
Chapter 37: Yumi Ashigaru Exam
Chapter 38: Yumi Ashigaru Exam (2)
Chapter 39: Yari Training
Chapter 40: Yari Training (2)
Chapter 41: Final Preparations
Chapter 42: A Chilling Fog
Chapter 43: Playing With Ants
Chapter 44: Chaos
Chapter 45: An Awakened Giant
Chapter 46: Courage or Folly?
Chapter 47: A Woman's Strife
Chapter 48: A Dark Horse
Chapter 49: A Life That Matters
Chapter 50: A True Monster
Chapter 51: A Pyrrhic Victory
Chapter 52: A Final Charge
Chapter 53: A Dream
Chapter 54: Meeting with the Master
Chapter 55: A Funeral Pyre
Chapter 56: A Morbid Ceremony
Chapter 57: A Conversation by the Candlelight
Chapter 58: Into Tobishima
Chapter 59: A Sealed Room
Chapter 60: A Sealed Room (2)
Chapter 61: The Lower Floor
Chapter 62: Tortured Souls
Chapter 63: Retribution
Chapter 64: Righting The Wrongs
Chapter 65: A New Home
Chapter 66: Misunderstandings
Chapter 67: The First Mission
Chapter 68: Toyokawa
Chapter 69: Recruiting
Chapter 70: The Days Before Battle
Chapter 71: The Final Training Session
Chapter 72: The March
Chapter 73: A Different Approach
Chapter 74: A Cunning Plan
Chapter 75: For Victory!
Chapter 76: The Niwa Army
Chapter 77: Favourable Results
Chapter 78: Celebrations
Chapter 79: Tōkaidō Road
Chapter 80: A True Meaning
Chapter 81: The Fury of Battle
Chapter 82: Rejoice!
Chapter 83: Matsudaira Motoyasu
Chapter 84: Dengaku-hazama
Chapter 85: A Storm
Chapter 86: The Start to Chaos
Chapter 87: East
Chapter 88: Onwards
Chapter 89: Betrayal
Chapter 90: Rage
Chapter 91: Monsters
Chapter 92: Death
Chapter 93: A Farm
Chapter 94: The Road Home
Chapter 95: Companionship
Chapter 96: Strangeness
Chapter 97: A Speech
Chapter 98: The Fields
Chapter 99: Outlandish