The sky is veiled in grey clouds casting their somberness on the inhabitants below. The sound of footsteps echoes. Many, many footsteps. An army of eastern warriors, said to be the best in the world. They march eastward. Hopping from island to island on this vast archipelago.
Their foe is waiting, sharpening their claws in anticipation of the slaughter to come.
It has been three days since they embarked from their homes, from their loved ones. Some risk their life for honor and glory, others for their families. And some are simply just battle-junkies. Enjoying the thrill of dancing between life and death, knowing full and well that their lives might end very soon.
The trek has been tiring and a great many of the Iiyama clan's foot soldiers are exhausted in contrast to those on horseback like Siegfried, Daiji and the vassal heads overlooking them. Their horses marching leisurely along over the hills and through the rivers. The foot soldiers however, are forced to drag along in plated armor, carrying either a katana, or a naginata, or both.
Just like the others, Daiji also wore the traditional plated armor of the east, though not a full set like many. He only had armor for his shoulders, legs, and a small breastplate. The shoulder-armor were larger than one would expect, looking like he wearing flat trays, adorned in different colors.
For the soldiers, their only consolation was that they would soon reach their destination, "Seigo's Shackles". A deep, rocky valley that had the perfect terrain to set up an ambush. It wouldn't matter if they were outnumbered. With the enemy forced to narrow their troops, the soldiers of Azuma could even the odds.
Though, chances that things would go like that were low. Which was why Siegfried had been a great help. Not only was he a powerful mage, he held troves of magical artifacts, as he called them. Equipment that would in return make their wielders more powerful, boosting the strength of their great army.
"Glad we have that foreigner with us."
"He may look strange, but his power seem real."
"Filthy outsider. Showing off and mocking us."
But even so, the reception of Siegfried was mixed. While some, as mentioned, were extremely glad and relieved for Siegfried's aid, many saw him as a hindrance. Though, this didn't faze him at all. It was to be expected. It's near impossible to suddenly accept a new view that contradicts your own out of the blue.
In contrast to the calm Siegfried, Daiji, and especially his nephew was annoyed at the bickering of ignorant soldiers. Struggling to not let it show upon their faces, they can only sigh in an exasperated tone.
"Why is this valley called "Seigo's Shackles" actually?"
Diverting Daiji's attention, Siegfried asks a question that anyone ignorant of Azuma's history would find sensible.
"It's named after the national hero "Odd Seigo" who died a little over one hundred years ago. If he was alive today, he could most likely rival this Kagutsuchi, if not completely overwhelming him... You'll understand more when we get there rather than me talking about it."
"I see..."
Nodding in comprehension, Siegfried sinks back into his thoughts while they continue on until evening, finally arriving at Seigo's Shackles. The location of tomorrow's battle. Many emotions are mixed into the army: fear, duty, excitement, bloodlust, dread, bliss, and more intermingle in the giant mass of a thousand and a half.
When they arrived, they are met with two parallel walls of mountains, stretching high on their left and right. The passage between them lead on for multiple kilometers. Further in, the grey cliffs wear cracked dresses full of rubble and holes. Spots gouged out or cleanly cut had transformed the mountains to a strange piece of art.
Siegfried signaled his horse to continue into the valley, wanting to further investigate, while the others rested at its opening. The strange landscape continued on all the way, becoming more and more intense the further in you got.
The day was moving towards evening, and so, the sun had chosen to hide behind the mountain walls. Only peeking slightly to bless the valley with some of its warm orange rays pleasing their eyes and bodies.
Thanks to the sun's gift, Siegfried was able to more clearly make out the valley's scenery. There were some greenery, though mostly moss to mark the long time since the place was last roughed up. The terrain in the middle was mostly level which allowed him to see its appearance even further in.
At some point, maybe at the midpoint, there was an area devoid of all forms of life. The plants stopped just short of it and refused to further expand, forming a circular shape around the barren area. Right by it, the looming cliffs had a thick crack expanding from its base to its peak. Cleanly wedging the ground open. As if someone had cut through them.
That foreboding place drew one's sight and thoughts to it. Their curiosity compelling them to investigate. The crack in the ground almost whispering.
His interest peaking, Siegfried urges the horse to advance even against its wishes, moving even closer to-
"That's enough, Siegfried."
In an eerily soothing and quiet voice breaking the silence, Siegfried is approached from behind all of a sudden, making his heart almost leap. Taking a few breaths to steady himself, he finally notices that Daiji is right behind him on his own horse, accompanied by a few bodyguards.
"I wouldn't advice going any further, lest you wish to fight the enemy in the dark."
"Yeah, yeah. I was just captivated by the scenery, you know? Never seen any battlefield like this before."
Looking everywhere around him, his fascination is clearly communicated to the others. Just who could have fought here to cause damage like this. It didn't seem to have been that many, so the ones who did fight must have been at least around Saint level.
"It's not."
"Whu?"
Siegfried's eyes widen in surprise as he readjusts his line of sight towards his friend. The solemn words being spoken and Daiji's aversion towards the barren area were mannerisms completely unlike his level-headed friend. The way he spoke and behaved, his eyes held something that almost resembled something akin to guilt.
"It's an execution ground."
Before he could even ask, Daiji and his group had already turned around and began heading back to the rest of their army. The horses trotting in silence.
Casting one last glance at the ominous place, Siegfried follows the others, disturbed by the presence he had felt. Something familiar. A type of presence he had felt very often for about two months now.
...
In the still, dark water, there is nothing. Devoid of everything except its strange liquid, the dark water continues to exist for eternity. No one disturbing it, no winds caressing it, no currents to play with it. An existence without love.
Long has it been since anything interacted with the lonely waters. Most unable to even perceive it. Fewer able to touch it. Hidden from life, it remains still. Just as it must. Slumbering in the darkness, it continues to exist.
Oh, what it must be to feel alive. To have life swimming in it. To play with the currents and to be loved by the winds. Chasing them with towering waves crashing down in pursuit of the horizon. How much more until it can feel something, anything, once more. Perhaps, nevermore.
Thoughts as numerous as its infinite droplets bubble up to the surface. Each uttered in a different voice. Each uttered in the same voice. Even while wet, it's dry. Even while dry, its tears of nothingness continue to flow. No, not flow, rather, to continue to exist as tears in the still and dark waters.
From the depths, a dark sphere reaches for the surface, the heavens. To be free of the waters still emotions. Approaching the surface, it pierces through the wet roof.
From the heavens, a light sphere falls towards the bottom, the depths. To feel the liquid soothe it with blissful emotions. Nearing the surface, it crashes down into the dark.
But before these two orbs can reach their destinations, their goals, their dreams, they violently collide into each other. Intermingling, melting into one another. Their identities fusing into a third one. Never able to fulfill their wish...
No.
That's not right.
They did fulfill it. They most certainly did succeed in reuniting once again in this new world.
The ripples in the water created by the both halves reaching toward the other, transform into cracks in the morning air. The sun finally blessing the land with its brilliance.
There it lies. Exists. In a world unfamiliar to the creature. The colors that fill the land, completely alien to the bright white world where they reigned on top.
It twitches, convulses, reacts. It's mind emptied of almost all thought and its heart devoid of any emotion.
...
At the time of dawn, Siegfried was woken by the clamor of soldiers outside of his tent. Shaking off his morning daze, he ventured out to find the Iiyama warriors taking down the many tents, gearing up and preparing.
He headed up to where the war council was gathering not far from him. They were going over a quick summary of the plan one last time before setting out. Making sure that they knew what needed to be done. After just reaching them, the vassals present dispersed, already done with the meeting. Looking towards Daiji, Siegfried saw him approach.
He wore a serious look on his aged face. Unwavering eyes that held no compromise nor mercy.
"No matter how excited your are, we won't be in the vanguard. Our role is to swoop in when either the first wave is over or the ambush is a failure... Understand?"
Looking into those black eyes, all Siegfried could do was scratch his head and breathe out.
"I know, okay...? I'll yield and give the soldiers a slight boost with my magical energy as promised. Increasing their chance of survival, if only a bit."
Gesturing with his hands that he'll do as told, Siegfried momentarily stops before continuing with a "However,";
"the moment I sense that things are going wrong, I'm swooping in and ending it swiftly."
"That is all right."
With a nod, Daiji accepts Siegfried's one condition for lending out his magical energy to all the soldiers, which will greatly weaken him in the process. An action that many mages are cautious against.
Measuring Siegfried up and down, he notices that he is wearing his iconic suit. A fit not related to war. Raising his eyebrows in slight doubt, Daiji speaks the words that have floated to his mind.
"Are you going to be fine... wearing only that?"
Siegfried's eyes held some confusion at Daiji's question before realizing what he meant, and with a small laugh, he reassured his old friend.
"It's okay. My suit is enchanted and reinforced with my magic. It's almost a magical artifact in and of itself."
"I see..."
He looked at Siegfried like the man was a complete fool full of himself. Finding it hard to believe that the fancy fabric he wore could repel sharp blades. However, he reminded himself, this was Siegfried. A man able of much greater feats than a simple swordsman like himself. If it was him, surely he could do it.
"Just be prepared. The dragon-kin have most certainly noticed our presence since we headed eastwards. It's like we predicted. Their forces will be at the other side, having been forced to engage us to secure their new territory."
The conversation finished, they both headed towards their assigned positions before leading the many, many men into war.
...
On the opposite side of Seigo's shackles, an army bearing a banner of a fire-breathing dragon marches into the long valley. Confident in their ability, they ignore the terrain, ready to continue their streak of unbroken victories.
The men all wear different colors. Some are mercenaries, bandits, or even Azuma warriors in silver-colored armor previously under the banners of the clans they betrayed. But the ones most out of place was the twenty or so reptilian figures. Walking on two legs and on the same height as any ordinary human.
Dragon-kin.
At the moment, Siegfried stood upon the left side of the mountains together with one half of the archers, hidden by his magic, ready to swoop down at any moment. Observing the enemy, his narrowed gaze naturally fell upon the dragon-kin at the forefront.
The man? gave of an air of bloodlust and martial expertise. He held no weapon nor any piece of armor, only clothes to cover his legs and torso and a black ring on his finger. A sleeveless black shirt with white lining that was buttoned in a peculiar way. Rather than the traditional buttons on the Central Continent, this garment had white knotted fasteners forming many horizontal lines. On his legs, he wore clothing of the same color as his shirt with an additional hole to poke his tail through
His scales were dark-green with sharp claws on his hands and feet. But no wings. That was not a trait that dragon-kin had inherited from the dragons, and most weren't able to breathe fire. But even without such traits, they were born naturally strong enough to easily crush ordinary foot-soldiers.
Siegfried's eyes moved along, witnessing the rest of their enemies at the valley's opening. Their army certainly was robust, however, in terms of number, the Iiyama clan had them beat. Though those dragon-kin would most likely quickly throw those odds out of the window without a second thought the moment they entered the battle.
Their own army below, that was a decent chunk of their soldiers marched a hundred meters or two from the opposing force. Outfitted in sturdy armor and sharp weapons in addition to Siegfried using magic to share his own power with each of them.
They were led by Tsurugi, riding on his horse, who had gained the supposed "honor" of leading them into a brutal fight. Tasked with luring the enemy further in into the ambush would not be easy. Sweat beads formed on each of the soldiers' heads in the anticipation. Would they manage to fight their way against the dragon-kin or would they be slaughtered like cattle? A thought like that would momentarily surface before being completely destroyed by their own belief and honor as warriors.
The type of pride that he had witnessed since his arrival irritated him. Why would they do so stupid things like readily throw themselves into battle without a second thought. In his view, the ones that held fear in their hearts, those who were often shamed by their fellows were the truly brave ones. Someone that he could more easily relate to, though he himself held only a miniscule amount of fear that was outweighed by excitement and soothed by his long combat-experience.
On the opposite mountaintop, Daiji stood watching the armies just like Siegfried. Gauging their strengths and attempting to predict the flow of battle. But nothing almost never goes as planned in war, forcing them to adapt to any unforeseen situation. However, all he could really do was pray for their success and come to their aid should the need arise.
The two armies halted their advance with only a few tens of meters separating them. From the side of the dragon-kin, shouts and cheers erupted from voices filled with bloodlust and excitement while the Iiyama clan held their ground in complete silence befitting an army. Gripping their weapons hard, bracing themselves. Placing their hopes in their allies above and further behind.
The faces of their opponents wore twisted smiles with eyes full of hate. Not a single shred of fear. Laughing hysterically. Drunk on their leader and the devastating victories he had brought. An unnerving thing to watch. An army of men that does not fear death in the slightest.
The commanders of both of the armies stood there facing each other. Drawing his blade and raising it high, Tsurugi initiated the battle with a mighty cry that was in complete contrast to his advanced age.
As a result, the warriors in this valley turned into fierce beasts, almost leaping into their opponents. Unleashing countless stabs and slashes upon their bodies, painting the ground below in a deep crimson red.
Tsurugi himself cut down the many foes aiming for him with great skill and precision. Killing each of them with only a quick movement of his right arm, severing a life in an instant. His breath is steady and his body is filled with stamina.
While fending off the annoying flies bothering him, his eyes searched fervently for his peer in the chaotic sea of death. But the figure of the dragon-kin had completely vanished. The others he could hear tearing through his soldiers farther away, but the commander that had been in front of him could no longer be seen.
Instead of continuing his search, Tsurugi was forced to divert his attention due to all the mercenaries flocking to him. All of them hoping for a quick buck by taking his head. However, as previously stated, they were no more than annoying flies to him. Only requiring a small amount of Ki to quickly dispatch them. His armor feeling as light as ever.
From above, the battlefield looked like violent waves in a storm. Crashing into each other with great force, spilling more and more blood. Brothers in arms stepping over your corpse as soon as you fell. No mercy for neither friend nor foe. This was a world ruled by the strong, amassing heaps of corpses in their wake. Each and every one producing as much strength in their bodies as they could. Displaying their skills with weapons on the most appropriate stage.
A stage perfect to display growth for those that can survive its proximity to the sharp fangs of death. Like a wolf sweeping through, claiming the lives of the misfortunate. It's pitch black fur warmed by the sun's golden shine.
The fighting continued like this for ten minutes that felt like an eternity for those involved.
Tsurugi's breathing had gotten a little heavier. His chest heaving more than before. His throat, the driest it had been in a long while. Though the battle had only elapsed a short while, the fighting had been absolutely brutal, even for Tsurugi who was on horseback.
Forced to constantly fend off a big chunk of enemies, his strength had waned a little and the soldiers coming to his aid had fallen again and again. He had fought and forced himself against the strong waves to reach one of the dragon-kins that were almost ploughing through the soldiers.
Thanks to Siegfried, they could fight a little better, with a little more power, though, that wasn't enough to survive on its own. You have to survive by your own efforts. No one person's help will guarantee it.
The sweat that drenched them was washed away by the blood spray of those around them. By their feet, the grass feasted on their fresh nourishment until they could drink no more. Puddles began forming, and if one had an endless supply of fresh meat, those puddles could eventually be turned into lakes.
Tsurugi finally reached his target. The dragon-kin quickly turned towards him, hearing the commanders fierce roar, he readies his claws and takes on a low-crouching stance. Even weighed down by his armor, which had grown heavier over time, Tsurugi raised his katana towards the heavens, continuing to weave Ki into its blade, refining its sharpness to the fullest.
The fatigue can go fuck itself. Right now nothing's gonna stop his stampede. No man nor dragon can stand in his way. With another ear-tearing scream, he put all of his strength into bringing the sword down hard.
From below the dragon-kin leaps with immense power, thrusting its right hand straight towards Tsurugi's loud-beating heart. Reaching the breastplate, piercing through before-
the dragon-kin is cleaved in two with a power that created a strong wind around them temporarily.
Breathing in and out, he tries to calm himself. His mostly grey hair is ruffled and cracks have formed where he was almost pierced through.
It's time to retreat. So that the ambush can commence.
The enemy haven't had their fill of murder and would surely blindly chase them further into the valley.
"Retreat!!"
At the signal, every soldier started running away as quickly as they could. Fending of their attackers at the same time. Tsurugi was doing the same, supporting the rest as part of the rearguard.
Though, it's strange- no, horrifying. Even when we cut them into their flesh, they show no sign of pain.
Their enemies had masks of pure joy and excitement even when slaughtered. They conveyed no other emotion. Only joy for the slaughter. A disgusting sight. A sight no one wants to witness. And like they thought the dragon-kin army chased after them without so much as a second thought. Even slowed down by the bodies of the fallen, they ran like wild beasts.
The Iiyama forces grew closer and closer to the reinforcements to their rear, where the majority of the vassals were stationed. As they retreated, the others advanced, switching places with the exhausted troops.
Finally, Tsurugi thought. They could finally deliver the killing blow. Looking back, he saw the savage horde running to them
But. Where is their commander? And the rest of them? Only a couple of them fell... So where-
In the corner of his eye, Tsurugi spotted a dark streak. Reflexively, he turned swiftly towards it, preparing his blade and armor with Ki as he surveyed the area. The enemy soldiers were still some distance away. This was-
"Guh!"
...
Hot. It's hot. And painful...
Touching his belly, Tsurugi looks down in confusion. His hand is very hot. And... red.
On him, there were five diagonal streaks cutting into his body.
~Clatter~
Letting go of the katana, he presses his arms hard into himself. Hugging the affected area as the contents spill out with loud splatters.
Everything is red. And dark.
Even the Ki in him couldn't fix this. The amount waned, and diminished each second. The circulation cut off. Spilling out, just like his internal organs. Even if he was breathing, his lungs could no longer take in the oxygen. Even if he was watching, his brain could no longer register the light, or comprehend anything for that matter.
A loud thud signaled the death of Kageshima Tsurugi.