by Nikita Thorn
The ryoushi trailed off into a whisper and never managed to finish his suggestion. Without any warning, the whole army came to a sudden stop, and the abrupt silence cut through the air like a sharp note of emptiness.
They had reached the top of the hill and found themselves in a completely different kind of place. Seiki was not sure when exactly it happened, but the area was suddenly once again covered in vague purplish mist that gave the whole thing a dreamlike atmosphere. Once again, the sky turned heavily overcast, with black clouds completely blocking the sun. The jovial mood gave way to hushed apprehension as they looked around.
Something else had changed, and after a second Seiki realized that his mental map had turned blank. Instead of the village layout, it now showed a large murky gray area ahead of them, meaning that they had crossed the boundary into the second stage of the instance.
Directly ahead was the Ruins of Hitsu Temple, a gigantic silhouette of gray that dwarfed everything else around it. Its size made it appear much closer than it was, like a dizzying optical illusion, and only when Seiki looked at the distance across the field that separated them from the structure did he realize how severely he had misjudged its scale.
The place was beyond massive. Behind a thin veil of dark purple mist, the Main Hall towered up at least a hundred and fifty feet high, marked by two distinctive layers of sloping tiled roofs. The lower roof, jutting out at two-third the building’s height from the ground, was much wider than its upper counterpart, perhaps to give the main structure an added illusion of being even larger than it already was. The top part of the building had been destroyed, with the whole right edge of the roof missing, as if a giant hammer had smashed through it. Not much else within the temple was visible above the surrounding wall, except for strangely-shaped structures that could be pagodas or roofs of damaged side buildings.
It must have once been an awe-inspiring sight, and despite his brain telling him it had been designed in a ruined state from the beginning, Seiki still found himself imagining its glory days when it welcomed thousands of pilgrims to its holy grounds. Even now, dead and broken, a haunted carcass of its former past, the temple still exuded a sense of power and majesty that eclipsed even that of the Shogun’s Palace.
Seiki stared at it, awestruck, until he felt his mental map filling up with details of the immediate area as the group cast their eyes around.
The temple’s massive front gate, at least thirty feet tall, was firmly shut, and the outer walls were intact, showing no easy way into the temple.
Ippei was pointing out the key features to the rest of the group. “About twenty feet forward and we’ll trigger the boss. Revive point back there before the last slope. There’s always a tano-shrine in front of the gate. There, you see. Near the right edge of the wall.”
Seiki forced himself to focus and help the group map whatever they could. It was still difficult differentiating between what had come through his own perception and what was foreign knowledge thrust into his head. Now that he paid attention, he could see the white glow of a tano-shrine near the right edge of the wall, but felt like he had always known it was there.
“Let’s go through this again,” said Nobuki as the whole army rearranged themselves.
Since there was no real strategy beyond getting a taste of what the encounter was like, their rough plan was just to survive as long as possible. The army would stick together in a single unit, only until it was safe to break away into smaller groups, and the West Defenders already had the order figured out among themselves. Since they had agreed to approach from the right, they had positioned stronger melee troops to the left side of the army to bear the brunt of the whirlwinds. They would keep a general counter-clockwise direction to avoid running into each other, and at every opportunity they would try different abilities on the boss, to see what worked.
Seiki and Ippei, both without mounted troops, would simply leave their units unsummed and ride with Nobuki’s main army in the front.
Despite knowing there was relatively little consequence to what they were doing, Seiki felt the atmosphere thick with anticipation. The army drew closer together until they were tightly packed, with the horses standing nearly shoulder to shoulder, as restless as their riders. Seiki felt his grip on the reins damp with sweat as he waited for the army to get into position, and so he took a deep breath and patted Fubuki to calm her down.
“All right, ready?” said Nobuki. Unlike those high-level players often stepping up to take charge of public events, the West Defenders samurai was mild-mannered and soft-spoken, but held firm authority over his clan members.
“Ready,” said Yoshitsune.
“Ready,” shouted Sae from somewhere further back, followed by confirmation from the rest of the players. Nobuki waited until they had all responded, then turned towards his two guests.
Ippei gave a nod. “We’re good.”
“All right.” The man smiled and turned back to the rest of the group. “Let’s go.”
The clan leader kicked his horse into action, and they were off, all at once, filling the air with the sudden thunder of a thousand hooves. Seiki pushed down energy onto his stirrups, knowing that, with his lower-level Riding, he might need to spend more to keep up to speed.
Just as Ippei had warned them, the moment the army started moving, the great gate of the temple swung wide open, and thick black smoke poured out from within.
“Who dares approach our claimed territory?” a voice cried out, raspy and sharp, from a large silhouette that nearly filled the entire doorway.
“Ah!” The voice was now laced with mockery. “Is this all Shinshioka can afford to send? Pitiful!”
Shrouded in fumes, the figure then emerged, first a snouted face that was more beast than human, with red-glowing eyes and sharp curved horns on both sides. The demon’s torso was hidden under a long robe, whose sleeves hung from both wrists to the ground, where they ended in wavering shadows that blended into the gloom around it.
Youkakufuu Sorcerer [Rank 5 Demon]. HP 120000/120000.
“Turn back now and tell your Lord Shogun the temple now belongs to us and perhaps I’ll spare you from a terrible death.”
Seiki had never seen a ranked demon before, but it was not the time to ask. The army was still rushing forward in a curved approach.
“Death it is, then!” The Sorcerer let out an angry scoff before throwing both arms forward as if he was throwing out an invisible ball. “Rise, disciples of the Shadow, defend your temple ground as you have once done!”
Halfway across the field, the army braced for whatever power the Sorcerer had thrown at them. No impact came, but the ground in front of them started to tremble, disturbing the dry grass into an angry hiss.
“Rise!” cried the Sorcerer. “Your graves are still shallow! Rise now to repel the unfaithful from our lord’s sacred grounds!”
On Seiki’s mental map, dots of purple started to appear, dimmer and smaller than the bright purple one that designated the Sorcerer himself. Seiki spared a moment to appreciate the usefulness of the particular War Card, as he stared in anticipation at what was happening ahead.
In the middle of the field, a host of black-clad lesser demons emerged, clawing their way out of the dirt. They looked nearly human, but with pale gray skin and red eyes. Their features were slightly distorted, some with eyes too wide apart, or a mouth and nose too low, but were all clad in long robes, very much like the Sorcerer who had raised them. Each was equipped with a ringed metal staff. Within seconds, more than a hundred had appeared out of the ground. As soon as they spotted the incoming army, they snapped into action and started rushing toward the troops, swinging their weapon high over their heads.
“What’s a… Fallen Rishi?” cried Yoshitsune, whose superior ryoushi sight allowed him to read their labels early.
“A zombie monk, I guess?” said Renna.
“No one said anything about zombie monks!” cried Sae. “Do they cast?”
<
br /> “No idea,” shouted Ippei in reply. “These used to be normal demon soldiers.”
“Keep going!” cried Nobuki. “Stick to the plan.”
“They look nasty. I’m gonna spray them!” said Yoshitsune.
“Yeah, do that,” said Nobuki.
Arrows whisked from the ryoushi unit onto the incoming group of demonic monks, slowing the speed of their approach, but doing surprisingly little damage. The monks suddenly stopped for a moment, took a uniform step forward, then lifted their weapons all at once, aiming at the troops.
“Go around!” yelled Nobuki. The army swerved, just as the monks struck down their staves at the same time, unleashing a straight burst of force towards the group.
Cries went up from the back of the army, and Seiki guessed some units must have taken a hit. There was no time to gauge the damage, as the Youkakufuu Sorcerer at the gate was already raising his arm.
“Do you regret your decision now, Shinshioka? Come and meet your demise!”
Under his clawed hand, a slim column of black smoke shot up from the ground and started to spin until it grew to the size of an ancient tree. With a cry, the Sorcerer swung his hand forward, and the black, writhing column of wind burst out toward the advancing army. The ear-piercing shriek of air screamed above the low rumbling hooves as the black column slithered across the field, uprooting dry grass in its path, sending it up into the air like a swarm of insects. A second later the whole area was raining dust and leaves and sharp pebbles.
The army was still rushing ahead at full speed. “Unit One, prepare!” shouted Nobuki.
They veered slightly further to the right to gain some distance between them and the incoming wind, and for Nobuki to position his troops to attempt a counter. Very few unspecialized abilities worked against the whirlwinds, and Ippei had not been certain if things had changed.
The towering column of spinning debris loomed over the troops as it approached, so close now that its piercing whistle nearly drowned out the noise of the galloping army.
“Deflecting Brace, release!” Nobuki shouted.
A collective shout went up from at least thirty of the troops on the leftmost end of the army. A kind of explosion went off as the ability unleashed, although from where Seiki was, he could not quite catch what had happened at the point of impact. Yoshitsune and one of the West Defenders let out a curse almost in unison.
“It’s all right! It’s not bad!” Umiko yelled from somewhere behind him, just as her clan mate Nobuki shouted, “Unit Two, up!”
Seiki had no time to see what was going on, as at that moment Ippei also let out a curse and pointed ahead. Seiki followed his gesture and saw another whirlwind making its way across the field toward them.
“The group split early,” cried Ippei, glancing back to see what was going on.
By this time it was too late, and chaos had descended over the whole group, with confused mounted troops running around and the West Defenders struggling to handle both the violent winds and the scattered group of demon monks still wreaking havoc amidst the army.
Ippei was looking over his shoulder, and his eyes suddenly widened. “Watch out!” cried the samurai. Seiki turned just in time to see several members of Nobuki’s unit caught by the nearest whirlwind. Horses and men screamed as they were sucked into the air and hurled in random directions.
One pair of horse and rider crashed down on top of two mounted soldiers only a few feet to the left of where Seiki stood. Without any time or room to dodge, he braced himself as a landslide of mounts and troops slammed into him. They all tumbled. The world spun in a tangle of men and beasts. Seiki somehow managed to find the ground, and activated a Slide as soon as he could, propelling himself out from underneath the falling bodies thudding down all around. Drawing a short breath, he looked up once he was in the clear, relieved that the fall had luckily not caused much damage. Fubuki had already shaken herself free and was now running off in panic to join the rest of the galloping army that had swerved to avoid them. The NPC mounts were not so lucky, and many lay dead on the ground next to their riders.
“This is going to be really bad,” Ippei shouted to be heard over the chaos. The samurai had apparently been caught in the same collision, and was now getting to his feet. “I guess the new monk ability is meant to split up the group, to get the boss to cast more tornadoes. As if the old version wasn’t bad enough.”
The groups of Fallen Rishi apparently worked like units of troops, and once enough had gathered in the same spot, they could unleash a deadly Formation attack.
The nearest whirlwind had luckily changed its course and was going south, further away from where they were, and they now found themselves in the midst of dismounted troops, some of whom were dutifully rushing to hold off scattered demon monks.
Ippei made his way around fallen horses and men to join Seiki. “What’s funny is, you know what’s one of the few things that work on the tornadoes? Your Upslash formation. Since, it’s wind against wind.”
That was hardly hopeful news in their current situation. “But… not at my level?” Seiki guessed.
“No. You need a full upgraded unit.”
“And maybe a better strategy, too,” Seiki observed.
The situation had turned rather dire. Even the West Defenders’ fully upgraded units were having problems handling the various different kinds of threats at once. More and more troops were getting dismounted, and further away, demonic monks continued to crawl out of the ground. Endo’s unit was stabbing at them before they could fully rise.
Seiki turned to his friend, who was looking around in amused fascination.
“Nothing much we can do at our level, especially without our horses, although I gotta admit it’s nice not to be trying to get your unit through that for once.” He nodded toward the middle of the field, where Umiko’s unit was trying to squeeze through a fast closing gap between two whirlwinds.
The violent columns of air drew dangerously close but missed each other by a few feet, although one still managed to catch a few unfortunate soldiers, lifting them straight off their horses and into the deadly wind.
Ippei chuckled and shook his head. “Wow, this really brings back memories. You know how many times I rode past the boss and tried to get a peek inside? Every time he would…”
His sentence ended in a short breath. Whipping his head around toward the temple gate, the samurai stared at the Youkakufuu Sorcerer. “What if… Okay, what if…” Several thoughts seemed to rapidly filter through his mind and his eyes widened further. He finally let out a curse and turned around to dash off in another direction. “Let’s try something!”
Seiki sprinted after him, and after a second he realized the samurai was heading toward the tano-shrine. Positioned a little to the side of the field, the area was luckily clear of both troops and demon monks, and only one of Umiko’s sub-units galloped past them in an attempt to catch up with the main army.
Confirming Seiki’s guess, Ippei already had a Wooden Card in his hand as the tano-shrine came into view. Nestled between large flat rocks, its serene glow was barely visible in the murky dust-filled atmosphere.
“The no-Card rule luckily doesn’t apply to us,” the samurai laughed as he thrust the Card into the white flame, liquefying the item into ethereal shimmery light.
Card in play: Engraved Card of Aspiring Heights
Ronin Card of the Equipment Deck. Unreachable areas may now be within grasp. Your unit gains a temporary Equipment Slot equipped with hooked bamboo ladders that can be re-supplied as long as there are surviving members within your troops. The number of equipment and its durability correspond to the number of the surviving troops and their average defense.
Ippei must have summoned his unit the moment the idea occurred to him. From back at the beginning of the field at the edge of the second stage, the samurai’s troops were running toward them. Only six out of eight had respawned, and they were carrying between them two wooden
ladders.
“Equipment Deck,” Ippei quickly explained as he beckoned to his troops, drawing something invisible in the air to guide his men. Then, to Seiki, he nodded. “Let’s go. They’ll catch up.”
With that, he was dashing off again toward the temple, and as Seiki sprinted after him, he finally understood what Ippei was aiming for. “You’re going over the wall!” he cried in disbelief. “Into the temple.”
“We are, yeah.” Ippei’s eyes were shining with relish. “For the first time in human history.”
“You… can do that?” Seiki had no idea what to think of the plan.
Ippei glanced backward to make sure his troops were still following them. “No idea. It could be instant death.”
Seiki took a quick glance toward the rest of the field. “I guess it’s not like it’s not death out here anyway.”
They kept to the side of the field, as far as possible from all potential threats, and Seiki checked to see no purple dots moving in their direction as they approached the stone wall. To their left, battle was intensifying as riders and dismounted soldiers clashed with groups of demon monks. If the West Defenders had noticed the usage of the War Card, they paid no attention, or, rather, had none to spare as they were busy enough just avoiding the increasing whirlwinds and bodies being thrown around.
Seiki and Ippei soon reached the foot of the stone wall. At least thirty feet high, it felt as thick and solid as it had looked from afar. Ippei glanced up as if trying to gauge if the ladder would work, and Seiki had nothing to do except look around at the ongoing battle on the field.
Somehow, with so much action going on, standing idly as they waited for Ippei’s troops to catch up was nerve-racking, but for a moment their corner by the wall appeared to be free of environmental hazards and enemies.
Their luck did not last. Something thudded heavily about fifty feet to their left. Seiki turned to see a stray demon monk lumped on the ground, apparently having been tossed by one of the whirlwinds.
