A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

With a single exchange, the air went still, the pattering rain drowning out all sound. It was only by will power alone that the Matsudairan Elder had not yet collapsed from his horse. His eyes flickered down to the torn flesh of his throat and he regarded the waterfall of blood that spilt out onto the chestplate of his leather armour. He parted his lips attempting to form a word, but was unable. His body ceased to listen and he collapsed forward, falling from his horse, his feet still tangled up in the stirrups.

For all the years they had spent together, the remaining two Elder’s regarded his death mildly, betraying no reaction, though internally they were more than shook. They were no fools and by their reckoning, they would be joining him very soon. It might have been prudent to turn their horses around and leave the confrontation of this monster to a better man, but there was no guarantee that there was one. More than anything, they needed to stop him reaching the keyhole before their allies were ready. He was the sort of warrior that could turn the tides of battle entirely by himself.

And now his men were fired up as well. They could finally see mortality in the enemy and with Ichijo slaying their strongest with such ease – victory was surely theirs.

The man in question did not even bother to turn to confirm whether his target was dead. From the moment he had moved his weapon, he knew he had snuffed a life out. If three of them could not face him, then two had no chance.

He flicked the blood from his wakizashi, unwilling to wait. He sheathed the weapon, freeing up his hand. Removing himself from the carcass of his dead horse, he turned to the man’s behind him. He carefully unhooked his heels from the stirrups, showing the dead his due respect, before assuming the saddle and clasping the reigns. He spurred his horse forwards, slowly building up speed and his men moved forward with him.

The relics of Matsudaira reciprocated, pushing their numerically superior force, intending to take as many to the grave with them as they were able.

"I will be seeing you in Takamagahara. Pour a drink for me." The Elder whispered under his breath, clenching his fist for their fallen brother. He shared a nod with his friend.

"Give flesh to save bone, brother. We will last as long as we are able."

"To the last breath," he agreed.

With state of the cavalry, Matsudaira was inclined to send the third row forwards earlier than he might have liked and all the other soldiers went along with them, leaving only Gengyo behind with under a hundred individuals, giving the illusion that they were going all in.

Rin and Akiko caught the signal and began moving forward, firing the last of the bullets from their rifles, fighting against the kickback, before throwing them to the side and giving full attention to their naginata.

In some ways, the peasants that went along with them had it worst. They had been forced to wait, acknowledging the massacre of their fellow men and then they were ordered to go in after them. This was a battle of monsters, they felt. They had no place here.

"We’re counting on you!" The beautiful Akiko called out, her voice genuine and sweet, warm against their cold hearts, sending doubts against their thoughts of routing. If this young woman could charge into that slaughter by the front, what kind of men would they be if they turned on their heel and ran?

"Please fight for as long as you’re able!" Rin pleaded emotionally, seeming distraught. That was the icing on the cake for them. There was no way they could turn back now. They had to protect their young Generals. It was a misconception that worked very much to their advantage – they assumed that the girls were almost defenceless and that they were at least stronger. How wrong they were.

With the thousand Matsudairan infantry bringing up the rear, the big players were certainly starting to find their way into the fight.

It was difficult for Gengyo to watch them march forwards without going in himself. He was literally itching to get into the fight, having to scratch his head continually as it grew hotter and hotter with irritation. The only thing holding him back was his trust in Matsudaira. They had an agreement. Only when the signal was given would his entrance be the most effective.

The men next to him were not to be frowned on either. They had been plucked from the hopefuls of the elite and elected as the strongest, forming the bodyguard for their Daimyo. Most of them could duel Il to a draw, and there were a hundred of them. They were certainly a weighty hammer.

Takeda’s previously given order was already being transmitted as soon as they saw the third row begin to make their move. There was no delay time at all. The reinforcements of both sides would arrive together – Shingen would not allow them to seize the initiative as they had once before, for it might cost the life of another one of his Generals.

The two rows that had sat either side of the encirclement began to move with their mounted generals leaving them. They curved in an orderly manner and pre-emptively reinforced the formation, just in time for Akiko and Rin to make their entrance.

It was a mess inside. Like the gate of hell. A more bloody formation it was hard to imagine. A death trap of the highest order. If not for their faith in their hidden card, then they never would have attempted to match it. The two of them looked around wildly, attempting to discern who most needed their help, but by their eyes, everyone seemed to be in a miserable position. Each of them looked exhausted. Bloodied and battered.