by Nikita Thorn
Kiku had completely broken character now for this talk, which was something that did not go unnoticed by the members, and their eyes widened as the gravity of the situation sank in.
The obake girl continued, “You have about ten minutes. Put everything you don’t want to be looted in your personal box. I repeat: personal box, not the clan chests. Once they come in, they can take everything left in the clan chests. If you have spare space, take the most valuable items out of the clan chests and store them in your personal box.”
“The Rod is already in my personal box,” Sayahime told Kiku, and Seiki remembered that the clan was in possession of one of the unique blades. She looked at people gathered in the waiting room and smiled solemnly. “See you in ten minutes.”
The bewildered clan members scattered to prepare themselves, and Kiku turned toward Sayahime. “Hime-sama,” she began. “There might be—”
“I know what you’re thinking, Kiku. But, no, we don’t beg.”
Kiku took a deep breath. “You owe that much to Hiro. He did everything he could to protect the clan, and how would he feel if he knew there was something we could have done for a chance to save the territory that we chose not to?”
Sayahime bit her lower lip, staring at Kiku. “All right,” she finally said. “Get me a brush and ink.”
As Kiku ran off, Ippei asked, “Whose cavalry can you call?”
“The Kensoku Temple,” said Sayahime. “We just took a village from them a few weeks ago. I’m giving it back, plus another one of ours, in exchange for their aid in battle.”
Ippei thought about it, but said nothing.
Within seconds, Kiku was back with the equipment. Calligraphy apparently allowed you to write very graceful characters, and Seiki watched as Sayahime finished her letter, written very neatly with the tip of her brush, folded it up and sent it on a pigeon.
“So, I guess we fight to the death?” said Mairin, peering out the window. “There must be some baby units we can take on.”
Kazuha was at the window, squinting and taking advantage of the ryoushi perk that allowed them to see farther. “The units in front seem to be lower-level.” She pointed them out to the kitsune girl. “They usually send the lower units out first, so we’ll waste our arrows on them. And by the time we kill them all, we won’t have anything left to fight the real regimens.”
Seiki got up and went to join her and Mairin by the window. As much as he strained his eyes, he could not make out any detail. All the people seemed to blend together in a moving mass of black.
“If you guys want to go for something you can fight, aim for those groups near their temp shrine, you know, where people resurrect. You can even choose to resurrect in it. When you’re not officially mercing, it’s just like a free-for-all brawl, and if there’s a temp shrine up nearby you get to choose if you want to go there.” Kazuha laughed. “Probably not pleasant waking up in the middle of the Rogami army, but you can come out and kill a few more of them, before they kill you again and blacklist you from their shrine.”
“Okay, not a bad idea,” said Mairin.
Kazuha continued to point at something Seiki could not quite see. “We’re riding out to try and destroy their artillery before—” Her facial expression changed all of a sudden. “Eisuke!” she yelled.
The man rushed to the window, again consciously not acknowledging Seiki.
“Trebuchet,” said Kazuha. “Level 30.”
Ippei grabbed his head with both hands. Now even if Seiki did not understand the implication, it was easy to guess that it was probably something very bad. Focusing hard in the direction the ryoushi girl was indicating, Seiki thought he could make out a tall structure, very much like the slim two-storied frame of a tower.
Kazuha and Eisuke let out a simultaneous growl, and they stepped away from the window. At the same moment, Seiki saw a dark shape flying through the air toward them. Only when it came close enough did he notice it was a piece of rock, the size of a small car, whistling like a giant boiling kettle. Behind him, in the room, people who knew what it was seemed to be shouting in panic. But Seiki could only stare in stupor at the incoming rock, fascinated by the sheer size of the solid mass flung through the air.
The flying rock clipped the roof of one of the storage houses slightly beyond the moat, before smashing into another two, turning both of them to dust and debris in a thundering crash, and sending tremors through the whole territory ground. Seiki had to spread his feet apart not to lose his balance.
Another one of the announcement pigeons had made its way into the room without anyone noticing, and the voice boomed out:
Fifteen minutes is up. We are coming in.
“Even if the Kensoku Temple agrees to the deal,” Sayahime said. “They won’t get here in time.”
A trebuchet maxed out at Level 30 apparently had a 30% hit chance, and enough power to destroy a whole portion of White Crane Hall’s Level 23 wall should it land a hit. Even a missed attempt, like the first one, still had the potential to cause a lot of damage within clan territory.
Everyone in the room, save for Seiki and Mairin, had seen a trebuchet in action before, and they had started discussing a plan on how to go down in a blaze of glory, as well as toying with the idea of committing seppuku to deny the Rogami Clan the satisfaction.
“Why is it so hopeless?” Mairin asked. “Like, can’t we hold for a bit until the Kensoku Temple comes?”
“Everything four levels above you has a chance to one-shot you,” said Ippei. “Same goes for trebuchet against your city wall.”
“But the Fuoka Army cannons didn’t do much damage earlier,” said Mairin.
“They’re lower level, and their AoE is much smaller. But, if you can get a bunch of Level 30 cannons to fire at the same spot and all hit, then, yes, it will crumble.” Ippei rubbed his forehead. “That’s not important now. We only have fifteen minutes while they get their NPCs to reload a rock and try again.”
Seiki stared out at the mass of swarming black beyond the wall, wondering why he was always made to fight darkness, and why every time it had to be so overwhelming, crippling and utterly hopeless.
“How long will it take for the Kensoku Temple to get here?” he turned to ask.
“An hour if they leave immediately,” said Sayahime.
Seiki still had his eyes on the army. “If we can destroy the trebuchet, can we hold for an hour?”
“That’s not even a viable question unless you can deal twenty-five thousand damage to that thing,” said Eisuke. “You need a small army to accomplish that.”
“Yes, but if we can do it, can we hold for an hour?”
Perhaps what Seiki was suggesting was so incredulous that no one bothered to answer.
“Yes,” Ippei said, eventually. “If you don’t do it the normal way. Instead of sacrificing low-levels first to fight their low-levels, you go out with the mid-tiers to fight their low-levels. Then, if they bring out their mid-tiers, you bring your best, and go all out.”
“But that would only leave lower level members and basic troops to fight at the end, and they won’t stand a chance against their elite troops,” said Sayahime.
“No,” said Ippei. “But you’re only going for an hour here. If your Kensoku people don’t arrive by then, the territory is lost anyway, so it won’t even matter.” The samurai glanced around. “So, first wave, you send that Level 17 samurai guy and any physical Level 15 to take care of the Rogami ladder troops. I think I saw a Level 15 girl with a sword earlier, so you can use her. I know that’s only about a hundred of you against probably five times as many, so you have to split up AoE within your unit and time it well. Let them come close to the wall so you’ll be within heal range. Sana’s pretty high, thus she can probably do a lot to keep you alive if you pair her up with another lower-level houshi to off-heal. Ryoushi stay on the wall and do everything to protect the healers. That’s very vital. Rogami’s then probably going to send reinforcements
with their mid-tier units, and that’s when—” He suddenly seemed to realize that everyone was watching him with an expression somewhere between shock and awe.
Seiki could not help but be amazed at how Ippei had so naturally and confidently slipped into this role, and it was only now that he fully understood why his friend had always called himself a war player.
“Hey, I don’t fight hopeless battles where you go out just to die,” said Ippei. “But now that there’s a glimmer of hope…” Seiki had never seen his friend so alive before. Ippei smiled as he caught everyone’s fascinated look. “You people should have seen me in Beta. Siege of Awahara Castle, with the odds set at four to one.”
“Well,” said the samurai to Seiki, a little more soberly. “All that is under the assumption that we don’t have to deal with that trebuchet.”
Seiki firmly met Ippei’s eyes. “I’ll get the trebuchet. You get us an hour.” He then took a deep breath and looked at Mairin. “I’m going to need your help.”
“Well,” said the kitsune girl, cocking her head. “Does it involve a glorious death?”
“Death, yes,” said Seiki, before letting out a long exhale. “Glorious, not so much.”
Chapter 26
The first part of his plan, as he had told Mairin, involved dying, and Seiki took a deep breath as the yellow-clad White Crane soldiers pulled open the wooden gate just enough for a horse and rider to slip through.
Through the slowly widening slits, he saw a wall of soldiers five hundred feet away, most of them dressed in all black. With a decisive tap on her side, Fubuki burst into a gallop, and Seiki found himself riding out in the night air, toward an enemy army of three thousand.
Immediate silence fell as the Rogami Clan noticed him. Perhaps it was because he was still much too low to be a real threat, the Rogami members were too curious on what his business might be coming out on his own and did not shoot him on sight. The short ride felt as if it took forever, and Seiki could hear everything echoing in his ears, from his own controlled breathing, to the snowstepper’s hooves on the dry ground, to the gate shutting behind him with a dull thud, which suddenly made him feel completely alone in the face of an undefeatable foe.
Seiki slowed down midway through as he watched some ryoushi in the frontline starting to raise their bows. He was going to die, but not yet.
“Kojiro!” Seiki shouted, as he reined in Fubuki to a trot, his voice carrying over the hum of whispers that had broken out in the Rogami army. He was three quarters of the way to the line now, and fortunately no one had taken a shot at him.
“What is this?” said Taiyora of the Rogami Clan [Level 27], the heavily-armored samurai Seiki had met before in an ambush outside of Mannaka Village. It took the man a second to recognize Seiki. “Why are you here?”
Seiki ignored him. “Kojiro!” he shouted again.
He did not have to wait long. From the middle of the crowd, Kojiro emerged on his black horse, the rectangular Oni Cleaver in his hand. The man seemed surprised to see him, but he had on a delighted grin. “Came back for more?”
Seiki looked straight at the samurai. “A match,” he said. “Just you and me.”
Seiki had never imagined he would ever put himself in this situation again, the very same one that plagued his sleep and jerked him into a state of confused, sweaty wakefulness in the middle of every night. Yet, now he found himself in front of a seething, vicious crowd, going into an unfair match with the sole intention to lose. He had to draw a silent breath and get the cold night air into his lungs as his subconscious started to scream at him, demanding that he remembered how it had ended last time.
Of course, Seiki remembered. It had not been pretty. This time, it was not going to be either.
“What the hell are you trying to do?” said Taiyora.
Kojiro’s grin widened. Taiyora turned to his clan mate. “No. This is a waste of—”
“I’ve got this,” said Kojiro, dismissively. Someone else yelled out his name from the crowd, but the man shrugged. “Hey, isn’t that the deal? Do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t hurt the clan? It will be over in a second anyway.”
The man sounded slightly disappointed at the thought, but he still urged his horse forward. “No one shoot him, okay?”
Even before he had finished his sentence, the black horse burst ahead at full speed, and Kojiro’s eyes shone with glee as he raised the blade in his right hand. “Remember this?”
As soon as it started, like every match he had been in, the oppressive tension shattered in an explosion of internal clarity that woke all of Seiki’s senses at once, and he could feel the burning energy in his muscles, the calm air in his lungs, and the adrenaline in his bloodstream raging against the serene focus on the situation in front of him. He could not quite shut out the crowd like he used to be able to do, as the panicked voices of the self-preserving instinct would not allow him to completely forget that dread quite yet. But at the bottom of it all, under the rampaging and undefined doubt, he was relieved that the spark of exhilaration was still there, as well as the ultimate conviction that he knew how to do this.
There was no way he was going to let his Fubuki get cut by the Oni Cleaver again if he could help it. As the man closed in, Seiki dismissed the snowstepper and mapped out his route. The Oni Cleaver was clunky, and Seiki let himself shoot forward in a Slide toward the opposite side at the last second, before turning very tight, stepping forward with his right foot and drawing his Hikari into an Upslash at the passing rider and horse.
Having taken damage, the horse prepared to buck and Kojiro leapt off, ignoring his bleeding leg, which had cost him very little health. As soon as he landed on his feet, Kojiro spun around and swung his weapon again. Seiki used his second Slide to dodge around the falling blade, whose weight sent jagged pieces of rocks flying from the cobblestoned ground.
Numbers were not important. Seiki knew he could still not afford to take a single hit, and that he would need to land at least a dozen full-powered connects before Kojiro was in any real danger. But then again, winning was not his intention. All he needed to do was to make it last five minutes and, more importantly, to make it a real spectacle.
“Out of Slides.” Kojiro grinned as he lifted his heavy blade again.
Seiki was not ready to sacrifice all his energy just yet, so Parrying was out of the question. Letting go of his Hikari, Seiki dived at his opponent’s legs. He grabbed hold of the man’s knee as he swung his body around into a crouch to avoid the descending rectangular blade, and he pulled the man forward with all his body weight. It was an awkward position, and Kojiro let out a grunt as he got tipped off balance. Seiki twisted his body to put one knee and one foot on the ground, and he broke out in a Slide out of range just in time as Kojiro swung his fist at him.
The crowd had buzzed alive. Kojiro caught his balance, and Seiki scrambled to his feet. Before his adversary could lift his blade again, Seiki rushed in and drew his dagger in an Upslash across Kojiro’s wrist. He did not have the Disarm dagger shot, but he could try to imitate one. Kojiro let out a cry, and his left hand let go of the weapon’s grip to grab at Seiki’s shoulder. But Seiki ducked low, and the samurai’s hand clutched his collar instead.
It had been Seiki’s plan to get in close, since that was the only way he would be safe from the Oni Cleaver’s destructive power; however, Kojiro was starting to adapt. Seiki seized the man’s wrist as he ducked under the grip, and he pushed to the right with all his might, just as his leg stretched out to sweep Kojiro off his feet.
The momentum sent Kojiro sprawling to one side, and he let go of the blade out of instinct to break his fall. Seiki rolled out of the way in case his opponent decided to try and kick him.
From the ground, Kojiro’s hand reached for the secondary blade on his obi. Before Seiki could get back up, the dagger shot out and Seiki gritted his teeth as the blade left a freezing gash on his wrist that rendered his whole arm numb. He wondered if this move w
as dodgeable at all or if it was always a guaranteed hit. In the scuffle earlier, Seiki had let go of both his weapons, which now lay a few feet apart from each other on the ground, making Parrying impossible. Disarm was not meant to deal much damage, but the level disparity meant it instantly dropped his health to half.
Kojiro was cursing at him as he got to his feet and picked up the Oni Cleaver. His eyes dropped to Seiki’s Kohagane on the ground near him and a thought seemed to cross his mind. He was aiming to kick it out of range, when Seiki let loose a Slide, shot forward on one knee, and reached out to grab the dagger as he passed it. The curved trajectory got him out of range of the gigantic blade once again, just as the blade slashed down only a few inches from him, shattering more cobblestone.
Excitement was rising in the crowd as Seiki got up and sheathed his dagger. That was risky play, and crowds loved risks. Perhaps that was why he had always been an audience favorite. They were there for the thrill of danger, and he had always delivered exactly what they wanted, just as he was going to deliver it here, too.
