Disclaimer: I own none of the works belonging to the author(s) and game designer(s) employed by Illwinter, the makers of the Dominion series, neither do I own any of the characters, factions, monsters, and places inside said media, save for those imagined and created by me.

Warning: The following chapter contains blood/gore, language, and explicit violence and may not be suitable for some readers.

~"The greatest among his generation and the most powerful astral mage I'd known, Yagotha'ro had abolished slavery in his kingdom of R'lyeh upon obtaining the mantle of godhood amid a brutal civil war and has accrued a multitude of disciples and students from every culture, including former slaves. As an aboleth whose head is more often than not stuck in the clouds, Yagotha'ro often fantasized about the future, muttering nonsense about the feasibility of ships that can travel among the stars and organisms tinier than a grain of sand. For some strange reason, he has taken an interest in this journal and I'd even caught him sneaking a peek one time. Aboleths and their curiosity..."~

Chapter 2: Gekokujo, Part 2

12 miles southeast of Honshu Village, early afternoon.

Two days later…

The cool spring breeze ruffled the tents as birds chirped on the branches above. Displayed on their surfaces was the emblem of Shinuyama, the silver, nine-tailed fox warding against the leaves rustling at the foot of the cloth structures. Tending to the small camp were ten squat bakemono no taller than small children. Their bulging eyes were focused on their tasks, their thick brows furrowed. Their mouths, large enough to clamp around a child's head, were filled with large thick teeth capable of shattering bone. Sharp claws tipped their four-fingered hands and feet as warts covered their greenish-gray, pudgy bodies, some dotting their large, flat noses. A variety of sharp weapons repurposed from farm tools were sheathed at their sides, bumping against their patchwork leather armor.

These bakemono-sho, named due to their diminutive size and social status, milled around two important figures. One of them was a dai-bakemono whose thick muscles rippled through the more flexible components of his leather armor as loose strands of his short knot of a ponytail waved in the breeze. A huge club studded with metal knots rested on one of his broad shoulders.

The other person was a human who looked beautiful despite the mane of grayish hair underneath her conical hat and her crow's feet. Her brown, sleeveless robe billowed in the breeze, parts of the cloth stained with oils and dyes. If one was close enough to look into her eyes moments before they are afflicted with a particularly vile curse, they would notice the sheer amount of malice and ruthlessness hidden just beneath the surface.

She was conversing with the dai-bakemono, their banter much too casual for a chat between colleagues.

Watching the bakemono from the undergrowth of the nearby trees were twenty samurai dressed in dirty and oily clothing, appearing to the casual observer as peasants who’d just turned to banditry. Leading them was none other than Tatsu who silently notched an arrow as he kept his eyes on the uba, or Shinuyamese witch, as she is known to be. As he watched her and the dai-bakemono get intimate with each other, Tatsu raised his yumi and drew a bead on her, aiming a few meters to the left as the wind changed direction, shifting to the right. Nearby, his warriors held their breaths as they awaited the inevitable.

Breathe in... and out.

Slowing his breathing to a crawl, Tatsu released it slowly just as he let the arrow fly. Like the bolt of an avenging god, the arrow sailed toward its target as time itself seemed to slow. Just as the arrow almost reached its target, the uba turned her head toward the incoming projectile.

The arrow embedded itself into her right eye, strangely dislodging only a few drops of blood.

Tatsu and his samurai flinched slightly as the witch shattered the silence with an earsplitting scream. Nearby, the bakemono were stunned for only a few seconds before they quickly readied themselves for combat. Allowing the briefest of nods between himself and his stunned warriors. Tatsu leaped out of the undergrowth and thrust his yumi into the air.

“Long live the sun! Banzai!” he screeched.

The samurai unleashed a fierce warcry as they unsheathed their katana and charged out of the brush. Confusion passing his face for a split second, the dai-bakemono bellowed out in fury before giving his lesser kin the order to attack. As his warriors charged, Tatsu relocated to a better vantage point for a clearer shot.

Screeching in agony and fury, the uba covered her damaged eye and muttered an incantation. With a wave of her arm, she unleashed a volley of wooden spikes at the enemy. Several samurai were cut down by the projectiles and those who survived found themselves coiled and ensnared in vines that writhed like living snakes. Seconds later, the rest of the samurai clashed with the bakemono.

The bakemono-sho crumbled like wheat before a team of harvesters, ill-matched against warriors who’d been training in the art of fighting since childhood. The half-ghost goblins screamed as they were cut down, their gelatinous blood flopping onto the forest grass. However, the dai-bakemono was a different story entirely and samurai unfortunate enough to be within range of his club found their badly mangled bodies knocked into the air with bone-shattering swings.

“You bandit scum will pay for attacking the glorious forces of Shinuyama!” he bellowed as he crushed three samurai into the ground with a single swing. He then turned to the uba. “Ibosa, summon more warriors before they overwhelm us!”

Groaning in pain, the witch was about to comply when an arrow shaft spouted out of her heart, dropping her instantly.

With a howl, the dai-bakemono swung at the samurai even as their weapons sliced and stabbed into him from every side, the warriors themselves leaping back to avoid his futile swings. Unfortunately, knowing that the battle was already lost even as yet another arrow pierced his chest, the dai-bakemono summoned the last reserves of his strength and managed to take a few more samurai down with him.

Swinging his bow over his shoulder, Tatsu's stomach twisted into a knot as he shared a solemn nod with his remaining warriors, some of whom managed to cut themselves free from the living vines. Based on the tally, eleven samurai have lost their lives and three more were wounded.

By Amaterasu, if it took nearly three-fourths of his band sacrificing themselves to take down one dai-bakemono, imagine facing an army of them...

“Take what you can carry, dismantle the camp, and gather the wounded,” he ordered as he turned his attention to one of his slain samurai lying at his feet. “Once that is done, the others will be informed and they will gather the bodies of the enemy and our fallen comrades. No trace of this battle is to remain. Good work warriors!”

Verbalizing their assertion, the samurai wiped their blades clean and got to work, Looking down at the almost serene expressions of his slain warriors, he clenched his fists for a few seconds before sauntering over to the dai-bakemono. A tightened jaw was soon followed by a fierce kick to the bakemono's face that broke his nose. Resisting the urge to mutilate the corpse further, Tatsu took a deep breath as his steely eyes met the lifeless pair of his enemy.

"We'll do better than this," he intoned to the corpse though his words were more of a promise to himself, his clan and daimyo, and his goddess. "We will grow even more clever, much wiser when fighting you and your kind. We will ensure that our losses pale in comparison to your own, until your compatriots join you in Hell in droves. Until your god feels so inadequate in protecting you that he has no choice but to commit seppuku before Amaterasu to get rid of his shame. Let the Underworld await Shinuyama's downfall."

Nearby, the samurai shared his grim expression, similar promises etching themselves into their minds and souls as surely as the sun rises.

Scowling at the corpse, Tatsu turned to aid his men.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Plains of Honshu, 2 miles east of Honshu Village.

Jingū watched as the pyre blazed, the rising flames slowly consuming the wood. On the structure lay a man in his early twenties decked in leather armor. Thick stitches held his head to his neck, the result of a failed attempt at convincing the Fujisaka and Hideki Clans to join the growing Dawn Coalition... and a sign of her own failings as daimyo. To make matters worse, scouts have reported that the two clans have mustered their armies and are marching toward Honshu Village in order to use the settlement as a springboard for striking deeply into Hideyoshi lands and onto Hitoshima itself. Whether they were motivated by fear of a growing enemy or simply by greed to brutally reject her proposal, Jingū doesn’t know. What she did know was that the enemy would arrive two hours from now, their armies reinforced with cavalry and mages. She also knows that there is a certain electricity in the air, almost as if the land itself knew that the upcoming battle would set in motion events that could change the Dawn Coalition if not Jomon itself forever.

At least the villagers have been evacuated beforehand.

Turning away from the pyre, Jingū marched to a huge red and white tent that sat on a hill overlooking the plains. The tents of lesser commanders and rank-and-file soldiers it dwarfed surrounded it like makeshift houses around an ad-hoc town hall. The ‘streets’ of the encampment were unusually large, which allowed plenty of room for their users to move around and gave the camp the impression of being bigger and brimming with more soldiers. On the nearby plains sat the army encampments of the other two clans.

Passing by a battalion of ashigaru making their way toward the palisades, the daimyo surveyed similar movements of soldiers and equipment as she ascended the hill a bit. She eventually made her way to the tent, greeting the guards as she ducked through the flaps. A group of servants greeted her as they carried away a huge straw bowl with bits of food caught between the fibers and a pair of bamboo poles peeked from its rim.

Curled up in the middle of the tent was Amaterasu herself, satisfaction on her face. Despite the tent being made to accommodate her size; however, the goddess appeared cramped. In fact, she risked collapsing the cloth and leather structure if she stretched too much. Nevertheless, she smiled curtly at Jingū as the latter bowed to her, acknowledging the daimyo’s arrival with a nod.

“I trust that the accommodations we were able to muster are to your satisfaction?” Jingū spoke as she straightened her back.

The goddess simply managed a shrug. “It is… tolerable given that you and the other daimyo wanted me to remain hidden until the time is right. At least I can crawl through the opening without getting stuck.”

“Another of Daimura-sama’s lessons, ‘Don’t draw all of your swords at one time,’ as he has said. It was also Shiba’s idea to expand the walkways of this camp so that you can move around more easily.”

“You are wise to surround yourself with very skilled people,” Amaterasu acknowledged, smirking as the daimyo blushed. “Anyway, based on the commotion I’d heard outside this tent I take it that the two clans rejected your request?”

The daimyo’s face darkened slightly. “They rejected it alright. In fact, they’d made their displeasure quite clear to my messenger, who is currently being cremated as we speak. I don’t know why they rejected the proposal but I intend to find out.”

“I’m sure they will soon regret that choice, Jingū. You can count on it.” The goddess paused as she thought of something else. “Anyway, on a different topic, I’d learned something I’ve found… distressing.”

Jingū leaned forward in renewed interest, her eyebrows raised. “What distresses you so, your Divinity?”

Amaterasu pursed her lips. “I’ve heard stories from the servants about the tendency of samurai to test out new swords by using them to cut down any farmers unfortunate to cross their paths. At first, I thought such stories to be nothing more than paranoid ramblings but a few ashigaru did confirm they knew relatives who’d lost their lives that way. Is this true?”

Sucking on her teeth, Jingū took a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s just say that that's merely one of many cases of abuse the peasantry in even our great clan suffered despite my best efforts to curtail it.”

“Why do they do this? Their crimes remind me of those committed by the thugs my father employs.”

“I apologize your Divinity but these things… happen. Our societies created hierarchies that are ripe for abuses, especially those aimed at people at the bottom. Also, the social expectations of deferring to one’s betters and remaining satisfied with one’s place in society have been drilled into everyone since birth, resulting in cases where one would give or even bear with abuses simply because they viewed it as their mandate to do so.”

“Though my father would've turned a blind eye, I find the idea of being taught to weather such abuses out of duty to one's betters very disturbing, especially when it's the duty of the latter to protect them from harm. In fact, such an institution should be held accountable for their neglect if not direct abuse.”

"Once again, I bow to your enlightened perspective and divine wisdom, your Divinity," Jingū replied, her eyes drifting toward the ground. "Unfortunately, I may very well be one of the exceptions rather than the rule when it comes to treating the smallfolk with respect. However, even I believe their place in society is still to be respected in order to preserve harmony, plus it's common etiquette to acknowledge that the actions of the abusers are only due to their own failings."

"Yet in this case, the abuser is merely a symptom of an even greater issue," Amaterasu countered, an eyebrow raised.

Jingū shivered silently as she sucked in a sharp breath. “Perhaps such issues can be addressed as soon as we win the war for Jomon's independence and settle down though there are bound to be hardliners. Just don’t condemn all samurai because of the sociopathy of their peers. Some actually care about the peasantry. I’d once made it clear that anyone who abused any unfortunates in my presence will suffer my wrath.”

“Good,” the goddess said before giving off a big yawn. “I can’t wait to get out of this tent and fight, though news of ascendant gods tends to travel like wildfire.”

“Meaning that we would have to win this war as quickly as possible,” Jingū replied. “At least the bakemono operating in the area have been blinded for the time being. Once we learn more about their garrisons and muster enough soldiers we can storm their outposts directly to silence them for good.”

“I’d be more worried about the Big Three themselves informing Shinigami of my existence. That would end our uprising a lot faster.”

Jingū managed a chuckle. “Daimura-sama believes the Big Three hate the bakemono as much as we do and don’t want them rushing into Jomon to rule the province themselves and for once I agree with him. They would try to handle the situation themselves until they were desperate enough to plea for help. For now, we only need to grow the Dawn Coalition’s military strength enough to take on the Big Three while keeping the bakemono in the dark. Tatsu’s raiding corps are good at the latter task.”

“Attacking the bakemono messengers and scouts while dressed in plainclothes and shouting random things as warcries,” Amaterasu mused as she propped her head onto an arm. “To the bakemono, they would be mistaken as cuckold bandits.”

“Yet another of Shiba’s stratagems though it’s only a matter of time before the bakemono start suspecting that something is happening to their scouts and increase their guards.”

“By the time that happens, we should establish a sizable presence.” Stretching as much as the interior would allow, Amaterasu cracked her knuckles, the resulting sound resembled tree trunks snapping in half during a windstorm. “Well, I’m sure you have a battle to plan for so I won’t keep you long. I will join you as soon as it is time.”

“I’ll see you soon, your Divinity,” Jingū said as she bowed again and turned to leave.

“And Jingū?” the goddess called out, stopping her.

“Yes, your Divinity?”

“Go and become the person you are meant to be.”

A small smile forming on her face, Jingū nodded before ducking underneath the flap.

_________________________

The Plains of Honshu

Hideyoshi Clan Encampment.

Jingū rode past the embrasures and wooden stakes protecting the camp on a black horse, her gaze surveying the slight hills of lush grass. In the distance, squat objects stood out in the sun like a child’s discarded toy blocks. The village of Honshu stood approximately two miles away like a spectator awaiting the clash between two opponents, a gathering of silent witnesses to the birth of a dream long since held. Just two hours north of it, the Fujisaka and Hideki Clans continue to make a beeline toward the settlement according to her scouts.

Before the sun sets, these beautiful plains will be marred with gore and mud.

Reining her steed to a stop, Jingū took a deep breath as she savored the smell of disturbed grass and hints of flowers. Despite her calm demeanor; however, Jingū was quite nervous. It had barely been three months since she was made daimyo of her clan after the death of her father and already she was about to fight in her first battle. Of course, she proved to be a decent fighter in the spars she had with her father and he believed she had a good head for tactics but even those didn’t seem to ease the nervous fluttering of her heart or her leaden stomach. In fact, she felt as if the heavens themselves were crushing the wind out of her underneath a cruel boot. Not only does she have her own fate in her hands but those of everyone under her command and the thought of failing them made her queasy.

Even the thought of failing them just as she failed that messenger threatened to empty the contents of her stomach.

‘You got this, Jingū. You can do this,’ she whispered to herself, slowly inhaling and exhaling as she relaxed her muscles and cleared her mind, as her father taught her. As if on cue, the wind shifted and brushed against her face, ruffling her short black hair. Feeling a bit calmer if only, Jingū allowed her mind to wander back to last night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The stars and the waning moon cast a serene light as Jingū rode on the outskirts of the encampment, wearing a pink kimono and a long white skirt. It was a habit to take a nighttime ride in the countryside to clear her head and admire the night sky. The area was typically safe from bandits and other dangers of the night. Nevertheless, a katana remained sheathed at her side.

As Jingū crested a hill, she saw a bright light in the distance, the rays peeking past a massive object sitting on a hill. Approaching the light carefully, the young daimyo paused as it turned to look at her with eyes that shone like twin golden suns.

Acknowledging her presence with a nod and a smile, Amaterasu patted a spot on the grass to her left, her eyes raised in inquiry. With a nod, Jingū dismounted and made her way over to the goddess. Sitting in the soft, cool grass, Jingū got a better look at the source of light. Hovering a few feet above the ground, the tongue of fire danced in the air like a playful spirit, darting around as it chased after stray sparks. However, the glowing mass gave off neither heat nor sound.

No, the heat seemed to emanate from the goddess herself as she sat cross-legged in the grass, her arms and hands in a pose not too dissimilar to those used by priests and monks meditating in their temples. Her eyes closed, the goddess appeared serene and Jingū found herself mirroring the pose.

The two continued to meditate silently for what felt like hours. Finally, Amaterasu was the first to break the silence. “It’s a beautiful night, don’t you agree Jingū?”

“Yes,” Jingū answered as she looked into the sky. A few constellations, including the Oni and the Farmer, hung off toward the west. “It’s why I often ride during nighttime, to see the stars.”

“Ah yes, the stars,” Amaterasu said as she smiled wistfully, looking into the night sky as Jingū turned toward her. “My brother, who is still imprisoned inside the moon as we speak, really loved nighttime. He would often regale me with his measurements of the stars’ locations each year and their significance in astrology. He even claimed that they were suns much like our own, situated sextillions of kilometers away from this world and from each other. The fact that he’s a moon god may have something to do with his love of nighttime too. Perhaps that explains why he can barely handle sunlight as I can.”

“What about you, your Divinity? Aren’t nighttime detrimental to you as well?” Jingū asked her.

The goddess chuckled lightheartedly. “Not by any means Jingū! I can fight in darkness as well as in light.” A slight grimace marred the goddess' face. “Of course, since I was freed, darkness doesn’t do any favors for my dreams.”

Jingū turned back to the suspended fire. On the rare nights such sources of light flickered out of existence as Amaterasu slept, the goddess had often been found moaning and even screaming as nightmares assailed her. From that point onward, Jingū had ordered the servants to keep a brazier near her lit from dusk until dawn.

Strangely though, only the lights the goddess created for herself seemed more effective at soothing her.

Turning back to the goddess, Jingū decided to change the subject. “You’d never spoke much about your family, your Divinity. What were they like?”

After a minute had passed, the goddess finally spoke, “Tsukuyomi, the brother imprisoned in the moon and born from a tear from Father’s right eye just as I was born from the left, is a bookworm who loves learning new things regardless of how practical they actually were to him. He was also more feminine than Father would’ve liked, taking extra care of his appearance, especially his hair. I used to joke to his eternal detriment that even if Father turned him into a woman out of frustration, not much would change about him.” Amaterasu paused to chuckle. “Ah, good times.”

“Why was he imprisoned inside the moon?”

“Well, it turned out he was a lot braver than any of us. You see, Father wanted him to put down the books and the scented oils and become the warrior he wanted him to be. Tsukuyomi resisted his dogged attempts and not-so-subtle jabs at his supposed lack of masculinity until he’d finally snapped. He gave Father a speech that pressed every button he had, verbally tearing him apart in front of his oni generals. So stunned was Father at this massive act of disrespect that he was unable to say anything for five hours. When he finally came to his senses; however, let’s just say that ‘furious’ was too weak of a word.”

“The first thing he did was murder all of the generals who’d bore witness to what just happened so that the mortals wouldn’t discover his shame. Moments after he’d decapitated the last oni general and dispelled his spirit form, he turned on me and my other brother Susanoo, binding us both with a powerful spell, making us unable to intervene or even prepare ourselves for what happened next.”

“A fight then broke out between Tsukuyomi and Father and though his tactical acumen and mastery of magical combat were impressive, Father was much more skilled in melee. I still remember the look of sheer terror he gave me as Father tore his way through his undead guardians and proceeded to beat him within every inch of his life while we were forced to watch. I mean, not even the most powerful spells can compare to the rock-hard fists of a furious god pounding into flesh and bone. The constant insults and eventual banishment to the moon were just salt in the wound.”

Jingū involuntarily raised a hand to her mouth, giving her head a small shake. “I’m surpris-… surprised that your father hasn’t decided to simply kill him given that he’d nearly done so!” she gasped.

“So am I,” Amaterasu acknowledged with a nod. “Perhaps he’d only wished to make Tsukuyomi suffer or he probably wasn’t angry enough. Father is more than capable of killing all of us after all.”

“Susanoo, born from mucus expelled out of Father’s nose, truly had it worse than any of us. Though Father often pushed me hard to succeed and was greatly disappointed in Tsukuyomi, at least he acknowledged both of our presences. Susanoo, on the other hand, might as well have been nonexistent. In fact, he is ashamed of having him as a son, yet keeps him around for some reason. Sure we both interacted with him but between Tsukuyomi’s studies and my training with Father, he usually ended up spending most of his time alone. Unfortunately, I don’t know what happened to him after I was imprisoned inside Ama-no-Iwato though given that he was alone with someone who sees him as filth, it cannot be good.”

Despite the glare of moonlight, Amaterasu noticed that Jingū’s face was as pale as a ghost. Finally, after spending a few minutes collecting her thoughts, the young daimyo suddenly blurted out, “What kind of father treats his own son like an unwanted katana?!”

“Remember how I’d described my father during the strategic meeting a few days ago? Father barely tolerated those who did not live up to his narrow standards, even his own children, and that was even before he’d snapped. Ironically though, that’s what Susanoo has been trying to do, to become the perfect son. Perhaps my father’s standard also entailed not being born from snot.”

“But that’s horrible! A father should love his children unconditionally, whether or not they live up to his standards! They’re his flesh and blood after all!”

Amaterasu tilted her head as she gave Jingū a soft smile. However, her golden eyes seemed to darken slightly. Sighing wistfully, the goddess continued, “As you can probably tell by now, we deities think differently from mortals like yourself and that extends to our families. That’s just the way it is.”

“However, you’d be wrong if you claimed that he is incapable of love. I’d found traces of it as he trained and molded me into the perfect warrior. Though he would’ve killed those foolish enough to point it out publically, underneath his hard exterior existed a god who was soft and gentle in the rare moments he’d opened his shell just a crack. He was proud to have me as a daughter and as a confidant and I got to bear witness to who he once was, to see the person he still could’ve been had whatever past disaster that befell him hadn’t hardened him into the individual he’d become. I threw myself at every lesson he’d given me in hopes of becoming the person he wanted me to be, in hopes of finally getting him to trust me long enough to come out of his shell, even as he became even more harsh and critical of my performance after that fateful clash with Tsukuyomi. Perhaps that’s why my brothers and I became even more distant as the centuries passed.”

Pausing, Amaterasu looked toward the ground. Her lower lip trembled as she continued, her voice wavering and her arms shaking, “Per... perhaps that’s why it hurt when he betrayed me.”

Standing up, Jingū walked up to Amaterasu and rested a hand on one of her knees, rubbing it gently. Amaterasu gave her a glance but said nothing, simply content with smiling slightly. The daimyo racked her brain as she tried to come up with something to say. What would my father have said in this situation? she thought to herself. He is so good at saying just the right things to make her feel better.

A quote soon surfaced in her head and Jingū found her mouth moving on its own, repeating what she'd heard so many times. “‘When midnight comes, always face toward the dawn.’“

Amaterasu turned toward her, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“’When midnight comes, always face toward the dawn’”, Jingū repeated as the goddess gave her a strange look. “It’s a quote from my father. It simply means that no matter how bad things get, one must always have hope because victory will soon come or whatever it is that he said.”

Amaterasu was still confused. “How does that relate to my situation, Jingū?”

Despite herself, Jingū shrugged. Since freeing her from that cave she found herself getting a lot more relaxed around the goddess than she’d imagined. “Sure your father had imprisoned you inside the Heavenly Cave and sure he’d betrayed you but you are here and he is not. It was not his destiny to rule over us in these tumultuous times, it is yours, your Divinity. You will be the one leading us to victory or whatever other fate that will befall us, not that godly bastard. I could care less about what happened to your father but only you are in a position to give us hope. Of course, I’m not sure if I’m explaining all of this perfectly but let’s just say that since he’s not here you can do whatever you want. Your freedom in his absence is your victory.”

The goddess gave her a small frown before relaxing into a grin. Reaching down with a hand, Amaterasu tenderly stroked one of Jingū’s cheeks with a finger as the latter blushed slightly. “In other words, always look on the bright side. Your brashness aside, you do actually have a point Jingū. I… I will try to move forward to become the greatest goddess this world has ever seen.”

A pause. “Thank you.”

Leaning on an arm, Amaterasu thought for a minute. "I've been meaning to ask you something but have been preoccupied lately."

"About what, you Divinity?" Jingū asked, her back suddenly straightening.

"About yourself and your family and clan, as well as how you'd come to find and release me. It would be remiss of me to treat my liberator as a background piece and besides, Ama-no-Iwato is far from any civilized areas and is sealed with powerful magic. It's not exactly a task casually decided upon."

"Let's start with me," Jingū said as she licked her lips. "My mother died during childbirth and my father refused to remarry, deciding to raise me himself. He is a harsh teacher yet there was no shortage of affection from him. As I am an only child, the only constant companionship I had was with my bodyguards Kenji and Oba, as well as my father's hatamoto, especially Misato. I do have cousins but because their parents had married into other clans I rarely ever see them."

Pausing to stretch, Jingū continued, "As for how I've come to know of the Heavenly Cave, finding the place was easier than breaking the seal. For centuries, people have been traveling to the cave, using it as a shrine to honor their ancestors as it was seen as a gateway to the afterlife. Heh, how ironic. A few adventurers had even ventured inside in search of hidden treasures and riches but found only stones and spirits."

"One day, at the same age as Father would be now, Daimura-sama's grandfather discovered that the very interior of the cave seemed to warp as if a sort of veil was loosening. Familiar with the existence of magical seals, he hired monks of the Fivefold Path to break it. Unfortunately for him, they failed miserably and he discarded the notes he wrote in frustration. My grandfather later found them and stored them in his room, hoping to eventually try to break the seal himself."

"However the constant wars occupied his attention and Father soon inherited those notes after his death. He then took a trip to the Imperial City of Jomon to peruse through the oldest collections in its libraries for more information. That was when he found out about your imprisonment and began working on a way to free you. However, he fought in the battle that would eventually lead to his death by an infected wound before he could commence the ritual I used to free you."

"Did you have trouble breaking the seal too?" Amaterasu asked.

Jingū simply shook her head. "It was easier than I'd expected given that I've only used the kannushi instead of the more powerful Fivefold monks. The High Priest Ito told me that the disappearance of the Pantokrator, combined with the draining of magic from the world, may have disrupted the seal enough for it to be more easily broken."

Jingū exhaled sharply, her teeth clamped around the inside of one of her cheeks as she turned her eyes down toward the grass. "Now my true test begins."

“Is there something wrong, Jingū?” Amaterasu asked her, her head tilted to the side.

Taking a deep breath, the young daimyo fidgeted in place before finally speaking, “To be fair, your Divinity, I’m scared. Daimura-sama isn’t wrong about my lack of experience after all. This would be my first battle and I… I don’t know how I would perform in it.”

“Do you fear death, Jingū?”

“A little, your Divinity, Mostly though, I’m worried that I will fail those under my command and lose more people than necessary, crippling our war effort for an indeterminate amount of time. I fear that my clan will be vulnerable to a brutal retaliation that we cannot hope to defend against.”

“So you fear being a poor leader more than getting killed in battle,” Amaterasu stated, turning onto her stomach. The ground shook slightly as she shifted some more, propping her head onto her hands and gazing down at Jingū. Her feet waved lazily in the air behind her.

“My father once said that having concerns about one’s own leadership ability is a sign of potentially becoming a great leader in the first place. At the very least, they will know in which areas they are weak so that they can take steps to remedy those flaws, improving their leadership ability in the process. Other, more arrogant fools tend to inflate their ability to lead others despite not being honest with themselves and end up making costly mistakes just to prove themselves.”

Amaterasu licked her lips as she read Jingū’s expression and continued, “I will lead your clan and the others to victory against the Big Three and Shinigami’s forces as promised. However, what you need to do...”

Raising a finger, Amaterasu pressed it against Jingū’s chest. Behind her, her horse gave a small ninny as her hand cast a large shadow over its entire field of vision.

“… is to believe in the Jingū you will become. Of course, there will be times when you do make terrible mistakes and that’s a guarantee but the important thing to remember is to get back up, dust yourself off, try another approach, and learn from the experience. Remember that even if you forget everything else I’d told you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I'll try your Divinity,” Jingū replied, her back slightly straighter and her eyes shining in the light of the flame. “Thank you.”

Tilting her head, Amaterasu gave her a sheepish smile. “If it makes you feel any better, this too will become my first major battle against an organized enemy.”

Jingū became nonplussed as she stared at the goddess. “How can that be, your Divinity? You have the look of an experienced warrior!”

“That is indeed true and my father did train me well. However, I had only clashed with bandits and rebel uprisings.”

'Fought by bands of starving and worthless peasants after all,' a traitorous voice whispered in her head, causing Amaterasu to grimace.

“Are you alright?” Jingū’s voice broke through the disturbance, snapping Amaterasu back to reality.

“Ah yes… just an errant thought,” Amaterasu muttered, almost to herself. A shiver passed through her body as she forced herself to focus back on Jingū. “Regardless, I’m here for you.”

Jingū gave the goddess a warm smile as she gently held her finger with both hands. “I suppose we both have a lot to learn during this journey,” she finally said as she caressed the massive digit.

Amaterasu returned the smile. “And we shall grow from the experience... together.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sounds of hoofbeats stirred Jingū from her thoughts and she turned to see Misato cantering up to her left side, her no-dachi resting on her left shoulder. She has a wide smile on her face, no doubt anticipating the upcoming battle. With a yank of the reins in her free hand, Misato stopped her horse next to her liege. Her red and black heavy armor gave her the appearance of a demonic wasp, ready to deliver her deadly stings upon the enemy.

“Nervous about the battle, my liege?” the adult female finally asked her.

“You have no idea, Misato-san,” Jingū said as she glanced once again over the battlefield. “I take it back: you understand it more than I could possibly know.”

“True, it can be a harrowing experience, especially for newcomers,” Misato acknowledged with a nod. “Fighting battles are like having sex. It’s scary the first time around and one often feels like they don’t know what they are doing but they soon find themselves relaxing into the rhythm and craving for more.”

Jingū turned toward Misato, her mouth warped into a half-smile. Of course, she knew that the battle eager hatamoto was coarse for lack of a better term but this was unexpected. Despite herself though, she couldn’t suppress an amused snort, which caused a corner of Misato’s smile to rise. “Misato-san, I’m never going to truly prepare myself for your vulgar sense of humor.”

“Sometimes I surprised myself, my liege, though that isn’t even one of my most provocative quotes. I’ve said things that would’ve had even a yamabushi reaching for a bar of soap.” Taking a deep breath, Misato continued in a steady, lowered tone as she puffed out her chest, “Just do your very best, and one way or another you’ll get through this. Ever since your father raised me from a life of obscurity and squalor, I knew he had a great eye for potential and if the great Hideyoshi Hirohito considered his daughter to be his worthy successor and the inheritor of his legacy then I am willing to completely devote myself to her cause, even at the cost of my life. Though I cannot truly speak for the others, I’ve sensed the same sentiment from them as well.”

“Thank you for having faith in me, Misato-san. My burden is heavy but I will not let you down.” Jingū said as she surveyed the fields, her tumultuous thoughts giving way to the calm of confidence, if only slightly. Taking a deep breath, Jingū straightened in her saddle and found her hands gripping the reins even more tightly but not in apprehension. It was a confident strength that welled up inside of her, one in which anxiety had been pushed aside by a sense of conviction and duty. Her focused mind locked on a desire on the other side of uncertainty and self-depreciation. It was a strength that only a daimyo who was determined to win no matter what would possess.

“Misato-san, go find Yumeji and tell him to order his commanders to deploy their battalions onto this field within the hour. You do the same as well,” Jingū ordered the hatamoto, surprised at the amount of steel contained in her voice. It was as if she’d aged several years. Even the older woman seemed to instinctively straighten to attention. “Send two riders to inform the other clans that we are deploying our forces. The enemy is over an hour’s march to Honshu Village and we need to be ready for them.”

“As you ordered, my liege!” Misato shouted before she wheeled her horse around and galloped back to the camp.

Gazing at the village in the distance, Jingū began to wonder what challenges awaited them in this fight for independence. Besides the Big Three and the omnipresent threat Shinigami presented in the form of his damned bakemono, other daimyo may be even more resistant to swearing fealty to Amaterasu, motivated either by fear of Shinigami’s retribution or a misplaced sense of loyalty. Regardless, there will be much bloodshed and chaos before this war ends and the repercussions will be felt for years to come. Still, all she can do is grit her teeth and push forward... for to wave the white flag now is to devalue the sacrifices of those who’d brought her this far.

Giving the village a final glance, Jingū wheeled her steed around and galloped off to the rally point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The serene silence of the Plains of Honshu was soon replaced with the footfalls of thousands of men marching into their assigned positions, their sashimono or back-mounted banners waving in the breeze. Seven battalions, each consisting of hundreds of ashigaru, formed the main body of the army. Three of the battalions consisted of ashigaru armed with yumi or Jomonese longbows, who took their positions behind their pike-armed brethren. Forming on the army’s flanks were two pairs of battalions consisting of hundreds of samurai each. Four more units of their mounted brethren, numbering sixty each, hung back at the army’s rear flanks. In the center of the rear-facing, crescent-shaped formation were two units each consisting of forty young shugenja, spellcasters who lived in the mountains in a simple life of asceticism, their craft heavily inspired by the famous masters of T’ien Ch’i and its Celestial Bureaucracy albeit not as powerful.

Two of Jingū’s hatamoto, Yumeji and Misato, rode ahead of the army, their expressions a mixture of serenity and determination, as well as an eagerness to fight in the latter’s case. Tatsu was still elsewhere, coordinating raids on the bakemono with other raiding parties. In the camp, Shiba was positioning the camp defenders while Amaterasu remained hidden, ready to spring the trap.

Sitting in the saddle, Jingū watched as the army marched toward her, her eyes scanning every part of their being. Flanking her were her bodyguards Hideki Kenji and Setsuke Oba, as well as two kannushi standing in front of them, their faces impassive. Both priests were skilled in air magic and were brought out here for Jingū’s purposes.

“HALT!” Jingū half-screamed once the army got close enough, wincing as her voice broke. Almost immediately, Yumeji and Misato relayed the order to the army. The large body of fighters soon crawled to a halt as the battalion officers transferred the order to their subordinates. A few minutes later, the only sounds in the field were the rustling of the wind and the snorting of the horses.

“Now,” the young daimyo breathed to the kannushi as she recovered her dignity. Stretching their gangly limbs, each priest intoned a spell as they quickly moved their arms in a series of complicated but graceful gestures. They strayed like willow branches in a light breeze, calling up part of their personal reserves of magic and energy. As if in response, the wind picked up in speed and wound itself around the two men. Their voices reached a crescendo as the wind flowed into the large space their hands seemed to encapsulate and glowed like a pair of miniature suns.

After what seemed like an eternity and a second, the kannushi turned and thrust their hands at Jingū. Jingū stifled a gasp as the spells filled her very being. Her eyesight became far-reaching and more focused and she found herself able to see the faces of her warriors even beyond the normal vision range of humans, able to adjust her level of distance-viewing as necessary. The second spell’s effect will prove useful in getting her message across to everyone in her army. She’d been practicing for hours with the kannushi for this very moment after all.

Thanking the kannushi, Jingū rode toward the waiting army with her bodyguards, her enhanced eyesight scanning her warriors’ faces in great detail. The ashigaru were filled with awe and wonder at her presence. Being mostly made up of farmers and servants, this was probably the first time any of them had ever met their daimyo in person and up close. The shugenja remained stoic though she could detect traces of awe as well. Some of them even allowed themselves to smile slightly when they felt her glance fall on them.

However, the samurai were a different story. Though she could see their respectful smiles, most of them bore a look of disdain in their eyes. To them, she was just a girl playing at war, struggling to fill the boots of the man they once held in deep respect. She was the girl who would get them all killed even with a goddess on their side.

Jingū knew that one fatal mistake would doom her clan and that very thought caused bile to rise in her throat which she immediately forced back down. In theory, all samurai were expected to uphold and live by the standards iterated by the Code of Martial Honor, including an unwavering sense of loyalty toward their liege. However, in practice, most samurai have been known to conveniently forget that part of the Code when it suited them, primarily when dealing with a pathetic liege who’d proved unworthy of their respect. Coup d'etats and betrayals were almost as common in Jomon, Yomi, Yayoi, and Hijisaka as the countless civil wars themselves. She should know: that’s how her great-grandmother established the Hideyoshi Dynasty in the first place.

The fact that none of them walked out on her clan or tried to overthrow her meant they still held much respect for her father’s legacy and wished to see it improved, which also meant that they were giving her the benefit of the doubt. Most of all, they were silently testing her, almost daring her to prove them right in doubting her capabilities as a leader.

That’s just too bad; she intended to prove them wrong.

“Attention brave warriors!” she barely shouted. The second spell magnified her voice, carrying it over the entire army. The warriors immediately stiffened to attention, their bodies as still as statues. An hour’s walk away, a low rumble echoed into the air as the other two daimyo assembled their armies, marching them toward their designated rally points. “Today is an auspicious day! The birds are chirping, the insects are buzzing, and Destiny itself is calling us to greatness!”

As the men murmured their agreement, Jingū stood up in her stirrups and gazed over the heads of her warriors, allowing more of them to see her as well. “Now I know that some of you only see a little girl who is not experienced in the art of warfare, a little girl who is not as formidable as her father, the great Hideyoshi Hirohito. I know that you see me as a little girl who hasn’t held the reins of leadership for very long. ‘Who am I to rule over you when I’d only been a daimyo for a few months?’, you whisper in the privacy of your minds.”

Jingū paused as she scanned the faces of her warriors. “You are right!” she suddenly shouted at the nearest ashigaru, causing them to jump. Quite a few eyebrows wrinkled at the admission.

“I am a little girl who hasn’t fought any battles, neither am I experienced in ruling over my clan’s affairs! Hell, I had only just recently reached my fourteenth name-day when I was forced to accept the mantle of power! Those who know me well can attest to my inadequacies.”

Jingū lowered her voice to barely above a whisper, her tone suggestive as she watched her warriors lean forward, straining to hear her. “Of course, whether you wish to admit it or not... ‘inadequacy’ can also be applied to the Hideyoshi, Chosokabe, and Ryutsuke Clans. As the weakest clans in Jomon if not the rest of Shinuyama, we banded together in mutual protection against enemies who surpassed us in both breadth and numbers and that’s not even counting the Big Three! Even now, the Fujisaka and Hideki Clans are marching toward us, bringing more men than what our clans have mustered in this field combined. We've lost territory as quickly as we have gained land and many times in our histories have we ended up on the brink of destruction. Many outsiders have predicted that our clans won’t survive the decade.”

Pausing, Jingū took a deep breath and roared, causing the nearest warriors to recoil instinctively, nonplussed. “I DON’T GIVE A BAKEMONO’S ASS WHAT THEY THINK!”

“I don’t care if we’re not perfect in the eyes of others, I don't care if we don't live up to the snobbish, dim-witted standards of their ideal clan!” Jingū started. Her voice rose in a crescendo as she went on a roll. “I don’t care if we’re at the bottom of the barrel and at the back of the line and you know why?! It’s because despite our shortcomings, our inadequacies, and our doubts, there’s only one way to go... and it’s up!”

The warriors nodded in approval as they voiced their assertion. Even some of the samurai leaned in her direction, their expressions much more focused.

“The same drive that compels me to want to snatch that wondrous prize out of the hands of Destiny should be in your hearts as well! Are you going to allow every inadequacy, every shortcoming, to keep you from striving toward excellence?!"

"No!" the warriors shouted in unison, their fists thrusting into the air.

"Are you going to let those bastards who are now marching toward us stomp on your dreams, slaughter and take away your families, and burn down your houses?!"

"Hell no!"

"Are you going to let them or anyone else force your faces into the mud, claiming that your place in this world is to lie down among the filth?!"

"No fucking way!"

"Would you allow anyone to make failure the only heirloom you have to give to your children and a life of mockery the legacy you leave behind?!"

The warriors punctuated the question with a resounding 'NO!', chanting as their eyes brimmed with anger and determination. Many of them still remember having to endure patronizing remarks and excessive teasing from other clans visiting their lands. They also remembered old stories of their clan’s struggles for survival and the mockery of their nearly victorious enemies. Some of them even had to hide their clan affiliation when visiting relatives in lands held by other clans to avoid getting accosted by prideful strangers.

The idea of having their children bear that insult made their blood boiled.

“ ‘You are nothing!’ they tell you!” Jingū decided to fan the flames. “ ‘You should do the world a favor and crawl back into the hole you called a hovel and die!’ they declared! ‘You should cower before us and accept your dissolution!’ they demanded! What will you say to them?!”

“HELL NO WE WON’T!” the warriors roared in unison. More samurai joined in though the rest barely moved, seemingly unconvinced by her speech. ‘Words may catch a glance from a breeze but action can force even a storm to listen,’ her father's shade spoke within her mind and it meant more to others.

So be it.

Jingū lowered her voice, her expression somewhat somber. “Now I can’t promise that any of you will live long enough to see our glorious clans smash the Big Three and take the Imperial City. In fact, it’s quite clear that some of you won't even survive this battle. I may even find myself reunited with my father far too soon for my liking. Even as a little girl, I am quite aware of the burden placed on my shoulders by my responsibilities as daimyo.”

Taking a deep breath, Jingū suddenly shouted, “However if I, a mere girl who’s inexperienced in war and politics, can stare death and failure in the eyes and dare them to defy my ambitions and dreams... then so can you! Even if we cannot fight for our own destinies, let us fight for those of our children and grandchildren, their children, and their descendants, for isn’t it the future we’re fighting for?! Even with our last breaths, we shall fight for the future of our clans! Even with our sacrifices, our dead shall still serve! Though we have a goddess on our side, our struggle begins within ourselves! Once we master that, nothing on this Pantokrator-forsaken planet can stop us!”

With a flourish, Jingū unsheathed one of her katana and held it straight into the air. Rays of sunlight gave the oiled blade an ethereal glow, making it cast its luminance through the air like a miniature sun. The wind picked up and frayed her hair around, giving her the visage of some ferocious, yet majestic beast.

The shouts were cheers now as warriors thrust their weapons and fists into the air. Yumeji and Misato cheered alongside them, their eyes glistening with the vindication of their belief in a brighter future and anticipation for things to come. Whatever insecurities they personally held evaporated like water in a desert, replaced with a desire to help build the foundations of a better tomorrow and the resolve to crush anyone wishing to slay that dream. Their shouts were a collective promise made to themselves and to those they cherished, born of the Miracle of Ama-no-Iwato and a goddess' ambition. It was a dream made of rising suns and brandished iron.

Everyone shouted as if they wanted a fight!

“So let’s show the enemy that our clans will not lie down like battered dogs anymore! Let’s show them the dawn marches with us and a sheer force of will has been awoken inside each of us that no amount of iron and magic can extinguish! Let’s show them the fury of a clan who’d been cast aside and mocked for far too long, a fury that shall be felt even within the very walls of Lady Ibitsu’s palace itself!”

"Many times have the sun come very close to setting on our clans forever but today...," Jingū breathed as she wheeled her horse around to face the direction where the enemy would appear, her sword still held over her head. In her enhanced vision, she could catch glimpses of their black banners fluttering in the air as more seemed to materialize every second, punctuated by glints of light bouncing off the iron spearheads of their yari. By Amaterasu, there were so many of them. "Today... it shall rise!"

Jingū took on an almost regal stance as her army gave a thunderous cheer behind her, grateful that no one can see the shadow of uncertainty that just passed over her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fujisaka Touma rode with his retinue at the head of his great column of warriors. The koi leaping over a mountain on a field of black continued its eternal bound on the myriad banners and flags the men carried. Sixteen battalions of ashigaru marched with five squads of spellcasters and eight battalions of samurai. Six of their mounted brethren galloped on the flanks from a distance, scouting for the entire army as well as flushing out potential ambushers, not that it was necessary. The Hideyoshi fools and their thrice-cursed allies were content with making their last stand on the Plains of Honshu according to his scouts. Even their new daimyo, a girl of all people, was there as well.

An idle thought entered Touma's mind and he wondered whether this young daimyo would be the perfect wife for his youngest son Ryu. However, he quickly banished the thought out of his head with a private snort. If she was really fighting alongside her warriors then she stood a greater chance of dying anyway.

Daimyo certainly had a short reign in this godsforsaken land.

His black and silver armor creaked as he turned to the clip-clop of galloping to his right. His hand resting on the hilt of his katana in reflex, Touma regarded the lone horseman as he made his way to his side, his orange armor joining in the cacophony of marching feet and creaking weapons and armor. His orange horo or stiffened cloak billowed behind him like a cloth bladder, displaying four yellow circles arranged into a diamond shape.

The samurai gave the Fujisaka daimyo a bow as the eyes of the latter’s bodyguards watched every move, their hands never too far from their weapons. His horse reacted to the scrutiny with a snort. “Touma-dono,” the man breathed, “Najima-dono wishes to inform you that his cavalry has been dispatched on an alternate route that will circumvent the enemy and allow them to strike them from behind. They will raid their encampments as soon as the battle is joined.”

Touma shook his head slowly, allowing himself to smile slightly. Leave it to the Hideki daimyo to find the right combination of a thirst for battle and decent tactics. Of course, Touma would be a hypocrite if he denied not having the same desire to fight. After all, who can claim to be a warrior and most importantly, a man, if they abhorred fighting? A true warrior must always prime himself for battle at a moment’s notice and not be distracted by art, poetry, and other nonsense befitting the womenfolk and the weaker men. The seat of Shogun belongs to those with the fatherly authority and steel resolve to lead Jomon to greatness.

Such an ambition allowed no room for weakness.

“Tell him I will attempt to keep the enemy occupied in the meantime,” Touma told the messenger. Knowing that the Hideki Clan has twelve battalions of ashigaru, ten units of samurai with six of them mounted, eight squads of spellcasters, and a handful of priests, Touma knew his forces would take the initial brunt of the fighting, not that he minded. After all, the bigger the fight the greater the glory.

“Understood Touma-dono,” Giving another bow, the samurai wheeled his horse around and galloped back to his army.

Turning his attention back to the path ahead of him, the Fujisaka daimyo became aware of an appellation behind him. Turning to look, he saw his priests loudly chatting among themselves, gesticulating in the general direction of the enemy and even at the sun. Some were even moaning and shielding their faces from the ball of heavenly flames as if afraid it would decide to scorch the entire army. Shielding his eyes, Touma glanced up at the afternoon sky.

Come to think of it, the sun did seem a bit hotter than normal and it’s not even summer yet.

“Matsu-san,” Touma spoke to one of his retainers, an eager boy barely out of his adolescence. “Go see what’s wrong with those priests.”

“Yes, Touma-dono!” the youth shouted as he galloped toward the agitated priests.

Cresting over a hill, Touma caught sight of the village of Honshu. Against his expectations, the village appeared pristine and abandoned rather than charred ruins as would have been expected in war. Even the livestock were nowhere to be seen. Either everyone decided to get up and walk out of Honshu to escape the armies or...”

Touma's gaze drifted to three armies waiting hundreds of paces on the other side of Honshu, facing toward him and his army as their banners waved in the air above them. Their encampments stood behind them, cloth and wood witnesses to the slaughter to come. A huge red and white tent dwarfed the tents below it like a small keep, casting a massive shadow off to the right. The yellow and black lotuses of the Chosokabe were there as well as the azure dragons of the Ryutsuke. In the center of the formation were the dawn birds of a clan who’d fought many times with the Fujisaka in the past, a clan born from the treachery of a samurai who should’ve been hanged when she slew her liege and usurped his rightful position, a woman who’d dared raise a hand against a man because of her greed and inability to stay in the rut Destiny has carved out for her. Even the honor of seppuku is too glamorous for such a dog.

Come as it may, the Hideyoshi Clan shall have a new master, a master who should cleanse its dishonorable past with the harsh but fair application of tradition and honor. As a righteous daimyo, Touma can do no other.

Despite the three clans' eagerness to fight, Touma knew they were no match for them. After all, their combined strength will barely be sufficient to hold back his entire army and Najima’s ashigaru but risked being overwhelmed by the Hideki samurai. The fact that their pathetic excuses for tacticians decided to have them face a numerically superior enemy on an open field spoke very poorly of their right to exist independently. No wonder they were barely getting by.

Matsu returned to his side, a hint of concern written on his face though the sight of the enemy made his eyes hungry for action. Acknowledging his presence with a glance, his eyes continued to track who was likely the new Hideyoshi daimyo as she rode across her army’s path, likely in a vain attempt to encourage them as the sun reflected off her red armor. It won’t be too hard to find her in the fray. A cheer arose from the armies like the soft peal of thunder as the enemy acknowledged his army’s arrival.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“So, what is happening with the priests?” the daimyo finally asked.

“They speak of some sort of alien influence that feels oppressive and omnipresent, something that burns and blinds, almost as if-”

“The sun itself is acting against us?” the daimyo finished as he wiped sweat from his brow for the umpteenth time as the heat threatened to sap the remainder of his strength. The air itself seemed even thicker with moisture as well.

“Right, my liege,” the retainer confirmed before continuing, drenched in sweat as well. “They also claim to see glimpses of a sunrise casting soft, golden light on a giant no-dachi stabbed into the grass of a windswept plain.”

At first, Touma wondered whether the priests were sensing the approach of a massive thaumaturgic assault but decided against it. In his experiences, such large-scale magical attacks struck without warning anyway. Another likely explanation was so absurd that he grimaced deeply at the thought. As much as he hated them, at least the bakemono did a good job at squashing emergent cults before they could sway the populace’s minds and hearts away from the true god of Shinuyama. It’s uncharacteristic of their priests and shamans to be sloppy after all.

If that was true; however, why did that massive tent up ahead still fill him with dread?

“Thank you for the report, Matsu-san,” Touma said as he unstrapped his war horn and blew a loud, deep-pitched bellow. More bellows answered the call as the command to form the battle lines was relayed to the rest of the army by his subordinates.

“I’m going to parley with these pathetic daimyo and try to get them to surrender to our terms. Go inform the head spellcasters to get ready to have their squads launch their most powerful spells before the lines clash should I fail. I want the enemy sufficiently cowed before we charge in and crush them. They must know that their defeat is inevitable.”

“As you command, my liege!”

As the youth galloped away, the daimyo and his retinue cantered through the empty village as his army split and reformed into their assigned formations. Just as expected, everything of valuable was stripped and carted off by the villagers, not that looting the place was on his mind. Honshu will be his once these plains either host disappointed warriors and cowed foes or have their fill of blood. He needed only one guess as to which one he would most likely bear witness to.

Touma took one final glance at the huge cloth structure overlooking the enemy’s encampment before spurring his horse into a canter, his retinue following suit. There’s business to attend to either way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the enemy outnumbering them by a considerable margin, the three armies were confident and eager to prove themselves, the Hideyoshi even more anxious to decimate the two clans now marching against them. Kannushi strode in front of the warriors, the censers in their hands filling the air with sweet-smelling incense. Benedictions and prayers poured out of their lips as a few of them thrust their fists in the direction of the enemy, venom-laced curses squeezing through clenched teeth.

Mounted alongside her small retinue, Jingū took a deep breath as she tilted back her head, savoring the sunlight. Despite it only being a few hours past noon the sun felt warm and comforting. In fact, combined with the gentle breeze that permeated the area, it was as invigorating as expensive balms found in the spas of wealthy towns. Though she wasn't sure whether it was because the weather was simply cooperating with her forces today or due to some sort of influence Amaterasu’s Dominion was having over the area, Jingū felt ready to take on the rest of Jomon, perhaps the rest of the world if it came to that.

Soft galloping gently pulled her from her musing and Jingū turned to look at two groups of horsemen galloping from the enemy armies, carrying the parley banners of their respective clans. A stray thought entered her mind and she wondered whether she could win this battle before it even started with a nice volley of arrows and offensive spells. Unfortunately, such a massive breach of honor would severely soil her own efforts in convincing the other clans to help take down the Big Three and Shinigami. Instead, she decided to call for her own clan’s parley banners and ride out with her retinue to meet the envoys.

Jomonese honor certainly can be very inconvenient at times.

Jingū rode toward the envoys, a glance to her sides revealing that the other daimyo were also doing the same. Amaito rode out in his turquoise armor with broad pauldrons while Daimura rode in golden and black silks. Upon closer inspection, the envoys revealed themselves to be the enemy daimyo themselves. The Hideki daimyo, Hideki Najima, appeared to be around Amaito’s age. He wore orange and yellow armor with broad rectangular pauldrons with a quadlet of yellow dots on the surface. His hand gripped the hilt of his katana as Jingū perceived subtle twitches in his arms, possibly indicating him as someone whose body is practically begging for a fight.

The second daimyo, Fujisaka Touma, was much more imposing even as he carried himself with an air of stoicism. Flat horn-like protrusions were bolted to his helmet and an ornament shaped like a demon’s face was attached to a spot between their bases. His tabard was draped around his armor like an overcoat. His half mask covered his lower face, displaying white bristles glued to the surface to form a thick mustache. His eyes continued to bore into hers in much the same way a stern father would to an impertinent child.

Leave it to grown-ups to underestimate a girl.

The opposing daimyo stopped about a few meters away, sizing each other up as if determining the odds of successfully subduing their foes should either break parley. Their retinues also traded watchful glares even as their dominant hands hovered ever closer to the hilts of their weapons. The breach of honor they'd expected isn’t as uncommon of an occurrence as one might think. Even in a society where honor is one of the most cherished ideals, the chance to seize the opportunity to deal a decisive blow to the enemy’s leadership is too hard to not even consider.

Fortunately, neither daimyo wanted to lose face, least of all Jingū. Instead, Daimura decided to break the ice. “Sirs, you must be quite reasonable if you decided to begin with a parley rather than cutting straight to the sword.”

Touma snorted as he gave a shrug. “We’re feeling good about our odds of winning this battle so we’d decided that we might as well be reasonable. Though our samurai will be gravely disappointed, no one has to die today,” Touma then cast a sideways glance at Jingū. “Least of all children.”

Jingū’s jaw clenched as she bit down a particularly vile retort, Instead, she responded in a sweet yet glib tone. “A group of children had lost their father earlier today so that is unfortunately false... That’s to be expected when one decapitates a messenger.”

Scoffing, Touma held his head high. “Perhaps the daimyo who’d sent him in the first place sorely needed a valuable life lesson given her lack of experience. It’s a teachable moment indeed, one in which a brutal lesson in the ways of the world can make or break a recently coronated daimyo, whose head is doubtlessly filled with fantasies about what it means to be a ruler. Mark my words, one should consider herself fortunate to receive lessons from such a teacher. Lady Ibitsu herself had been known to be particularly… enthusiastic when educating potential threats.”

Jingū gave Touma a flesh-eating grin that caused him to raise an eyebrow. “Perhaps the teacher in question still remembers the story of the Wasp and the Tiger? Quite a popular and captivating children's story by the way, especially when it forces one to remember what happens when a powerful foe underestimates those beneath them.”

“Ahem.”

Both Jingū and Touma turned toward the daimyo who’d just cleared his throat. Satisfied he’d finally gotten their full attention, Amaito soothed his horse by running his fingers through its mane. “While having you both go at it back and forth would be fun, perhaps it’s best to give us your terms.”

Regarding Amaito for a second, Touma assumed a more regal posture. “Yes, thank you for reminding me, Amaito-san. The terms are as followed: You three are to surrender to us. Amaito-san and you, Daimura-san, will swear fealty to us. Your clans will be required to provide gifts of koku and military aid to support our bid for the Shogunate. Other than that, you will be permitted to continue running your estates as you see fit.”

“May I ask where would I figure into all of this, Touma-san?” Jingū asked as she folded her arms across her chest.

Touma turned back to Jingū and she saw glimpses of an immense hunger in his eyes. She’d seen that look in clansmen visiting Hideyoshi lands, strutting around as if they were the owners. Beneath the formalities and etiquette lay the immense desire to take what belonged to someone else and claim it as one’s own. Jingū felt like an object to be gained rather than a person as Touma continued to leer at her.

“Your holdings and retainers will be split evenly between myself and Najima and as for you, you will be betrothed to my youngest son Ryu,” Touma continued, a corner of his mouth raised. “You will also abandon all trappings of the ‘warrior woman’ and will work hard to become the perfect wife for my son and a proper Jomonese lady. Choose wisely for it is quite rare for me to be this generous, little girl.”

If her glare can kill, Jingū would be more than happy to send this conceited bastard to an early grave. Instead, she tilted her head to the side and gave him a contemptuous pout.

“No,” she simply said.

“I knew this was a waste of time!” Najima spat, his eyes betraying a glance behind her at the encampments. Jingū turned her scowl toward him. “We should just go ahead and crush them and take their lands by force!”

Wrinkling his eyebrows, Touma whipped his head toward Daimura, not bothering to hide his disgust. “Does this child speak for the rest of you as well?!”

The older daimyo simply shrugged. “While Jingū-chan has much to learn,” he replied, ignoring the glare Jingū sent his way. “It was her idea to form this coalition in the first place, plus choosing to convince the other clans including yourselves to join rather than trying to conquer them outright like so many others reveals a hint of wisdom so she does have potential.”

“Plus her sentiments mirror our own,” Amaito added, a predatory smirk appearing on his face. “We too are sick of being under the heels of more powerful clans, especially the Big Three. We want to stand tall for a change.”

“Then you shall be cut down by your betters along with the girl you chose to lead you,” Touma said with no small amount of venom as he turned back to Jingū. “I’ve offered you a way out but you chose foolishness despite your ‘hint of wisdom’, girl! Maybe I would waste less time by crushing your pathetic armies and searching for a more submissive wife for my son afterward!”

“If you only knew what you and your armies were up against then it would be you who would choose to be submissive, Touma-chan!” Jingū spat.

A deathly silence reigned over the scene as everyone looked directly at Jingū, their faces in varying degrees of shock. Slowly, Touma’s face contorted into a rictus of fury even as his retinue became just as murderous. Tightening his hand around his weapon, he barked at his retinue to hold their position and cantered his horse closer to Jingū until he was next to her, close enough to cut her down with a fierce iaido or unsheathing sword slash should he so choose. He ignored her retinue as they gripped their weapons, their eyes daring him to make any move against their liege, yet they felt unsure about this daimyo who was so eager to leave the safety of his retinue to put himself in harm's way. On the other side of Touma, Amaito and his retinue backed up as well, their hands also gripping their hilts. To her credit, Jingū remained unmoved as her glare continued to track him, though her rapid breaths and tightening grip on one of her twin swords gave the Fujisaka daimyo a modicum of satisfaction.

“I once considered merely breaking you until you had no choice but to surrender and accept your fate,” he said calmly. However, the air around Jingū seemed to drop in temperature. "Now I shall break you so thoroughly that even the denizens of the Underworld will be terrified of what fate befell you." Without waiting for a retort, Touma whirled around and galloped back to his army with his retinue in tow.

As Touma and his retinue left, Najima shook his head as he held a confident grin, shrugging when Jingū turned her glare toward him. His eyes once again drifted back to her encampment before returning back to her. “I for one thank you for the gift of imminent battle! Peace is overrated these days anyway.”

Rolling her eyes as Najima and his retinue left, Jingū turned to find Amaito and Daimura staring at her, the latter holding her in a gaze of disapproval. “What?” she asked, shrugging in emphasis. “We’re here to fight after all.”

“Let us hope that you prove more respectful in future negotiations... ” Amaito mused though he too was barely coming out of his shock.

“Amaito-san is correct, Jingū-chan,” Daimura grumbled. “Sure Hirohito-san died before he could complete your instruction but I’m sure he’d taught you the proper use of honorifics as soon as you became old enough to speak.”

“Now you know how I feel, Daimura-sama!” Jingū snarled as soon as she managed to calm down, her heart slowly resuming its natural rhythm.

“That’s because you’re still a child-”

“True! *sigh* True, but I’m a daimyo now. Your fellow daimyo!” With another sigh, Jingū continued, her voice almost a whisper. “I know that I have a long way to go before I earned your complete respect, given that respect is a very precious commodity in our culture. Regardless, I still defer to you as my elder as all must do to the wisest and oldest in their community. All I ask is that you at least give me the barest amount of respect as well, Daimura-sama.”

Daimura regarded Jingū for a moment before sighing and giving her a slight smile. “I will do just that,... Jingū-san. However, you still have a long way to go before you earn more respect from me.”

“Thank you, Daimura-sama,” Jingū affirmed with a bow before wheeling her horse around and galloping back to her army with her retinue in tow.

Shaking his head slowly, Daimura turned to Amaito. “I dearly hope that girl learns to control her outbursts and words,” he mumbled to the Ryutsuke daimyo. “Though she is a good girl, Jingū-chan now has a huge responsibility on her shoulders and will have to face consequences for her actions. I’d seen too many times what happened to similar people in her position.”

“Fortunately, she has a great teacher,” Amaito said as he peered at the enemy armies. Their priests were giving benedictions to the warriors as they moved restlessly, eager for glorious battle.

“Aye, at the goddess’ behest and clearly not by my own choice though Jingū-chan has been attentive if a bit difficult at times,” Daimura replied as he too watched the enemy. “Still, a teacher’s lessons are only as useful as the student’s willingness to follow them.”

“True. Let’s go back to our armies, Daimura-sama. I’d hate to be standing out here when the spells and arrows start flying.”

“Certainly.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“My liege, give me the order to gut that Hideyoshi bitch like a fish and strangle her with her own intestines and I shall not fail you!” Matsu snarled, his eyes red with fury. Several of the retainers shouted in affirmation.

Touma couldn’t help but smile. Despite not being one of his sons, the lowborn youth proved to be one of his most loyal and active retainers ever since he’d found him picking through the burned-out husk of his hovel many years ago. However, he can be impulsive at times.

Touma shivered slightly as he took one glance at the enemy, Jingū’s words surfacing in his mind: “If you only knew what you and your armies were up against then it would be you who would choose to be submissive, Touma-chan!” Despite knowing that the odds were stacked heavily against them, the enemy seemed confident that they could still win this battle.

‘What tricks could you be hiding up your sleeves, little girl? Do you know about something we don’t?’ he thought as he turned back to Matsu.

“Jingū is yours to do as you please provided she survives the barrage first,” the daimyo said as he took out his horn. He then turned his attention toward the rest of his retinue. “Men, these imbeciles in front of us are eager to die. Let’s oblige them!”

The retainers let out a fierce cheer, unsheathing their weapons and hoisting them into the air.

“Now I don’t ask much of you except that you honor me and, most of all, honor the One True God of Shinuyama. However, today we shall also honor these fields with our bravery and the blood of our enemies! Today you shall honor your ancestors even as you shame those of the enemy! Tonight, when the blessed moon of Shinigami peers over us, it shall find us dancing amid the bones of our enemies and dividing the spoils! Let us eat, drink, and be merry for today we shall march to glorious victory!”

The retainers cheered again as Touma sounded the order to begin the assault. Behind him, his spellcasters begin weaving a variety of potentially devastating magic. As if in response, the enemy spellcasters formed into communions and begin weaving a variety of shimmering barriers around their fellow warriors, the latter putting enough space between each other without drifting out of range of the protective magical spells. Touma couldn’t help but give Jingū a small amount of respect. Girl or not, she certainly came prepared.

Not that it would do her much good anyway.

After a few minutes of preparation, the Fujisaka spellcasters unleashed their arcane fury upon the enemy. Meteors, bolts of lightning, torrents of hailstones, and other roaring disturbances of elemental fury slammed against the barriers. Though some were immediately nullified upon impact, the rest broke through and reaped a terrifying red harvest amid the enemy ranks. Men screamed as they were blown into the air, while some were crushed, blood squirting out of their massively deformed bodies. A few spasmed like dolls being shaken violently as electricity coursed through their bodies. Touma smiled with satisfaction as the Hideyoshi took the brunt of the assault, the warriors of that callow youth smashed to bits like dolls beneath the hands of a rambunctious child.

That will teach that disrespectful girl!

The assault ended as soon as it began. When the smoke cleared, craters of scorched earth were revealed, pockmarked with mangled bodies, jets of fire, and embedded ice shards. Piercing screams of the wounded and dying filled the air as the survivors struggled to put themselves back together, some of them missing parts of themselves. Someone screamed for their mother.

It was hell on earth.

Touma was about to give the order to charge when he heard a commotion behind him. Turning to look, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Most of his spellcasters have collapsed onto the ground, their faces slackened with exhaustion as tired moans escaped their lips. Handfuls of others even clutched their chests and screamed, blood spurting out of their mouths.

Only a few spellcasters remained functional, beset by exhaustion as they were.

What’s going on here?! Did the spellcasters not bring enough magic gems?! Touma’s mind screamed. Sure the spellcasters were expected to become exhausted after casting those physically demanding spells but not yet to this severity. Doing a tally in his head, Touma realized that most of his spellcasters would be out of commission for the duration of this battle. At the rear of the army, the priests became even more frenzied. Some of them were even on their knees, burying their faces in their hands as their wails drew varying degrees of uncertain glances and annoyed glares from nearby warriors.

Touma quickly whipped his head back to the enemy armies, particularly the Hideyoshi Clan just in time to see them cheer and holler in defiance, shaking their weapons at him as some flashed obscene gestures. His eyes frantically searched for Jingū until he found her standing at the head of her army.

How can this be?!

Why aren't she and her army broken by now?!

It makes no sense!

One of her pauldrons was almost completely scorched and blood ran from a cut on her temple. Wearing a prideful smirk, she folded her arms across her chest, her eyes locked with his. However, it would be even fairer to say that she was looking down at him, almost as if he was merely an insect to be crushed underfoot.

Did she plan all of this? Was all of this a trap? he wondered before a terrifying implication dawned on him. He, the daimyo of one of the most powerful clans in this part of Jomon, was tricked not by a shinobi nor was he blindsided by another man. He was tricked by none other than a little girl, a girl barely old enough to start flowering into a young woman!

His face slowly became beet red as his teeth ground against each other. His nostrils flared as his brows furrowed so much that he risked getting a cramp. The entire world became red as his heart slammed itself against the walls of his ribcage, a ferocious beast who had an intense desire to charge across this field and clamp his hands around that little bitch's throat and squeeze until her terrified face slackened forever. A fury much more intense than when she’d insulted his honor earlier with that immature honorific boiled up his throat and erupted into a roar that carried the weight of his frustration at his plan falling spectacularly and of an indignation that can only be satiated by bloodshed.

“CHAAAARRRGE!!” he raged, unsheathing and extending his katana forward as his army surged forward, a black and silver tsunami bent on destruction and death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The magical barriers held the brunt of the storm of magical fury back for a few seconds before it proved too much and all hell broke loose. One of Jingū's retainers was skewered from head to groin by a massive shard of ice, both man and horse tore apart like a small orange impaled upon a spear. Another succumbed to a bolt of lightning, both man and beast flailing on the charred earth as their flesh blackened under the electric current. Before Jingū could respond, a sound straight from Hell itself directed her attention upward.

TshwwwwuuuuuuuuuuuuuuAAAAAAAA~

The ball of fire slammed into the ground next to her, knocking Jingū off her horse. One of her father's lessons surfaced unbidden into her mind and Jingū quickly rolled into a low stance with her legs spread out, explosions and screams erupting all around her.

Whiiiiiiiirrrrrrrr~

The entire world seemed to blur as the sounds of carnage became muffed, replaced by an incessant ringing. Several samurai nearby found themselves decimated by a shower of hailstones the size of a man's fist, some of their howls becoming incoherent as the projectiles broke their jaws and deformed their skulls. A lone ashigaru screamed as he cradled what was left of his legs amid the bodies of his comrades, his mouth seeming to shout something she couldn't make out. He looked so young.

Is he screaming for his mother?

Something caught her eye and Jingū turned, her face paling as she saw the man lying on the ground. His black iron mask lay in a melted mess next to his half-charred face and most of his mustache was burned away. Her heart nearly stopped as recognition washed over her face and the world became a bit darker.

His lifeless eyes staring back at her, Hideki Kenji lay on the field of battle, a dream extinguished in service to an undeserving master.

No... why...

Jingū turned just as another fireball streaked toward the ground and slammed itself amid a nearby group of ashigaru to her left, blanketing them in hellish fire. She swore as the wall of fire kept raging toward her and curled up into a ball, desperately trying to keep her face protected. The world burned as Jingū felt her breath being sucked out of her lungs, the scent of burning pork ramming itself into her nostrils. She forcibly gasped for air as her stomach protested, the heat bleeding through her armor and clothing.

'You should've accepted his offer of letting you marry his youngest son!' a voice rasped in her mind.

Jingū just wanted to stay there until the end of time, curled up until the sweet embrace of death caressed her. She was clearly out of her depth here. How could she be the leader of men when she couldn't even save those close to her? There is no way she deserved to lead such brave warriors anywhere, let alone to their deaths.

She is just a little girl playing at war.

Jingū didn't know how long she held herself in that position but she soon became aware of something furiously patting her left pauldron, which seemed hot even when the rest of the heat had dissipated. With a raspy gasp, Jingū quickly scrambled to her feet, backing away from the threat as she unsheathed a katana.

Misato looked at her liege with a sad smile, her eyes flicking momentarily to Kenji's corpse. "Your pauldron was on fire but I've put it out. Are you alright, my liege?"

Glancing at the blackened, half-melted pauldron, Jingū turned her eyes to Kenji's body as a sob escaped her lips. The ringing in her ear has finally disappeared. "I... oh Kenji-san...why?"

Misato walked over to Jingū and cradled her in her arms, shaking her slightly. Her expression hardened though her eyes appeared moist. "Save your tears until we win. The men need you right now."

Jingū looked at Misato as she swallowed hard, forcing herself to stand erect as she gave her a slight nod. Wiping away a stray tear, Jingū pulled away from the hatamoto's embrace and looked around.

As the smoke that reeked of charred leather and pork cleared, the scene it revealed wouldn’t look out of place inside someone’s vision of Hell. Blackened craters dotted her portion of the field, splotches of steaming blood and charred gibs spread around their mouths. Large hailstones rested next to battered corpses on the ground, some of them burnt beyond recognition. A few bodies convulsed slightly as residual electricity coursed through their muscles. Wounded warriors screamed for either immediate aid, their mothers and fathers, or the sweet release of death, clutching what remained of their limbs. Time seemed to slow as able-bodied warriors attempted to reassemble their formations, trying to process what just happened

A loud screech pulled Jingū’s attention down to her horse. Lying on its side, the beast slivered in agony as it gave off a whimper. Almost its entire side had been burnt to the muscle and two of its legs were broken. Her heart pounding in her chest, Jingū approached the downed creature, her grip on her katana tightening. She wiped blood from a cut on her temple as she stopped next to the stricken beast, whose damaged eye swiveled in her direction. Swallowing excess saliva that accumulated in her mouth, she gathered her wits and put the beast out of its misery with a scream and a downward chop on its neck.

Forcing herself to breathe normally, Jingū turned to find her warriors looking at her. Though their faces were in various expressions of shock and fear, their eyes showed embers of the fiery defiance she instilled in them hours ago. Lesser men would’ve run back home and indeed she could see a few routing from her allies’ armies but these are no ordinary men. They still wanted a fight and no godsdamned volley of magic is going to change that.

Jingū was also surprised at how composed she has now become. She should’ve ordered a retreat back to Hitoshima Village. She should’ve immediately parleyed with Touma and tried to surrender unconditionally. She should’ve even laid back on the field, curled up into a fetal position as she whimpered fearfully, urine pouring from between her legs, and truthfully that’s what a part of her felt like doing.

Instead, those sparks in her men's eyes reignite the fire inside her heart, a paradoxical connection where their determination and belief in a dream strengthened her will to fight, to reach for the very same dream she encouraged them to fight for earlier. It became her turn to be encouraged to excel. In the rising wind, Jingū could almost hear her father's voice.

'When midnight comes, always face toward the dawn.'

As that fire spread throughout her veins, she was immediately filled with a fury of the likes she’d never felt before. How dare the enemy try to break their will with that piss-poor excuse for an attack! How dare they stomp on their dreams, confident in their belief that they are free from reprisal?! Glancing at the long, twin-tailed dawn birds on her clan’s red banners, she turned her attention to her warriors.

“Don’t you dare embarrass me in front of our enemies and allies by running away!” she bellowed at them, eliciting a few chuckles. “I said ‘No amount of iron and magic shall extinguish our dreams’ earlier and I damned well meant it! Do not fear the fish of the Fujisaka Clan for just as the dawn birds on our banners do in the wild we shall devour them for lunch!”

The warriors gave off a loud and defiant cheer as they directed insults and jeers at the enemy. Some even flashed vulgar gestures at them, channeling their inner Misato. Jingū’s shugenja exchanged slightly tired smiles as they dispelled spent gems out of their very beings, their eyes aglow with the astral magic of their communions. Misato's facial expression became much more determined as a spark of pride shone in her eyes, glimmering for a reason Jingū recognized all too well.

Her late liege's daughter has finally become a woman.

Her heart lightening, Jingū turned toward the enemy just in time to find them giving off quite a commotion over their spellcasters collapsing from exhaustion. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Shiba’s idea but her own to place her spellcasters into communions to reduce fatigue among them and to have them put up magical barriers to protect the army, counting on the enemy to get overconfident and launch devastating spells as a show of force while the entire battlefield is under the influence of Amaterasu’s magic-draining Dominion. It was something she learned from talking to the shugenja themselves and reading a book or two on concepts of magic in the past. Of course, she expected Touma’s priests to warn him about that but, given how prideful the enemy daimyo seemed, the loss of the very assets that could’ve turned the battle in his favor was a foregone conclusion.

Searching around for the Fujisaka daimyo, she found him staring directly at her, his agape mouth the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen today. Folding her arms across her chest, Jingū peered into his widened eyes and tilted her head back to look as if she was looking down her nose at him. She could only imagine how Touma would take his colossal ego being deflated.

Now all that’s left to do is survive until Amaterasu made her surprise entrance.

Touma’s howl of rage echoed throughout the battlefield and his army thundered forward like a black tide of iron and fury. Jingū answered with a bellow of her own and charged on foot with her warriors and what was left of her retinue. The banners on both sides of the battlefield fluttered in the air as warriors of every social class and sex raced toward their fates amid the clatter of clanging weapons, footfalls, and warcries. The sun hovered off to the west, a cosmic witness to the fulfillment of a dream and the first sword stroke of a journey that is filled with not only blood and death but the surety of dawn, the furious righteousness of fire, and most importantly, the advent of hope. Flocks of hungry carrion birds flew overhead, eager for the gory feast ahead.

Both sides raced toward each other, propelled by a hatred of their enemy and a thirst for battle, the fear of disappointing their heavy-handed master on one side, and the fear of failing the visions of a young daimyo and their own on the other. It was a test of wills between a powerful alliance of conquerors who wanted nothing more than riches and other spoils of war and a fledgling coalition who cared for nothing more than to get their backs off the wall and stand tall in the face of adversity, to show the world that there is still some fight left in them.

To face the dawn.

Time slowed to a crawl as Jingū raced at the head of her army, both her katana unsheathed like the arms of a mantis. Her warcry seemed to meld with those of her warriors, the massive defiant bellows of a juggernaut crawling from its hole to face its challenger. The blessed wind of Amaterasu's Dominion seemed to spur them onward like warships racing before the headwinds of a raging storm.

'It is the nature of mortals to yearn for those greater than themselves, be them leaders or gods,' the memory of her father spoke from a place buried underneath relaxing evenings and past instructions.

Arrows from the archers on both sides streaked through the air, some colliding with each other as they fell amid the armies. Cries of agony filled the air as warriors clutched at shafts that spouted from their throats and chests. A lone arrow caused Jingū to stumble as it deflected off her helmet, buzzing like an angry bee past her left ear.

'Every mortal aspires to follow those who are the epitome of values and fates they desire, a standard to elevate themselves to and an example to follow.'

Despite being diminished by her ploy earlier, the enemy spellcasters struck with a vengeance. A bolt of fire speared through the skull of a nearby samurai, reducing it to a fine red mist. Jingū winced as droplets of steaming blood landed on her face, more fireballs and shards of ice reaping a bloody harvest among her army. A shard of ice almost glanced her arm, skewering a warrior behind her instead. It was only due to the buckets of adrenaline coursing through her veins and her single-minded focus that she didn't immediately falter.

'Such mortals will gladly follow such an individual to dark and brutal places, through trials and suffering, just for a chance to become greater than themselves and to grasp onto the dream they desire. Not even the fury of Hell itself will stop them.'

The arcane barrage from the enemy began to peter out as one by one their spellcasters collapsed from exhaustion. However, her spellcasters made the enemy pay dearly, gouging holes in their ranks with projectiles both mundane and magical. Still, the enemy charged, the excitement of battle and perhaps a fear of their liege propelling them onward. As an arrow zipped past her head, Jingū sorted out her target, an ashigaru who appeared around Kenji's age. The man saw her looking at him and moved his yari's spearhead in her direction, his eyes filled with fury intermingled with fear.

'You must become this paragon of excellence, Jingū. You must be like a prophetess who dreams of the flame of hope and a fortress that will protect it from those wishing to extinguish it. No matter the challenge or the foe, you must reawaken within those who look up to you a desire to be greater than themselves, to dare dream again.'

Jingū screamed louder along with everyone else as the battlelines inched closer together, the spells and arrows pausing as spears lowered and blades raised. Her heart hammered in her chest like a taiko drum reaching a crescendo, a furious melody that seemed to blur together in the cacophony of people rushing to their fates in a maelstrom of charged emotions and sun-kissed dreams. The air tightened like stretched rubber, poised to break like the silence before the first crack of lightning.

'Make them rise from the midnight of past failures and bitter disappointments... and become masters of their fates.'

The Fields of Honshu seemed to hold its breath as five armies clashed against each other in a tsunami of blades and fury.

Dodging the yari poised to impale her, Jingū sliced through the torso of the ashigaru holding it. As the man fell, Jingū parried another spear with one katana and ran the man through with the other. A third ashigaru roared as he tried to ram his spear into her side. Sidestepping the thrust, Jingū sliced off his left hand with a rising slice and freed his head from his neck with a counter.

The cacophony of clashing blades and screaming men filled her ears, yet Jingū managed to center herself as her father had taught her, a single-minded imperative to kill and to survive choking down whatever fear and disgust she would normally experience. The scents of blood, viscera, and excrement filled the air as men motivated by hatred and fury battled each other amid the gore like beasts fighting over chunks of bloody meat. How the samurai could still find honor and glory amid such an abattoir would remain a mystery to her.

A yell to her right immediately grabbed Jingū’s attention and she barely managed to parry a sword stroke that would’ve decapitated her. The samurai quickly leaped back to avoid her counterattack, a different beast from the levies she’d just killed. She rushed him with a flurry of sword strokes which he either parried or dodged. His armor deflected her last stroke as he countered with a thrust aimed at her throat. Jingū received a cut on the side of her neck as she tilted her head to the side, disengaging from the warrior. One of her ashigaru tried to impale the samurai onto his weapon and received a deep cut to his jugular for his trouble.

Launching herself at the samurai, she danced around his attacks as she unleashed her own, the dance of death clearing space around them. Similar occurrences appeared around them as samurai pitted their skills against their opponents while the lower class ashigaru ganged up on each other while avoiding doing the same to their betters, a typical summation of Jomonese warfare.

Though the samurai was more heavily armored than her, Jingū was able to quickly dodge attacks she could and deflect those she cannot. His breaths became more labored as he struggled to keep up with her. The moment his guard slipped, Jingū batted his katana away and rammed one of her own through his right eye, dropping him like a sack of rice.

Stealing one glance at the ashigaru drowning in his own blood at her feet, she gave him a quick bow. Though his face was becoming paler by the second, this man who was most likely a farmer with a family waiting for him responded by slamming a fist over his heart, his eyes filled with a fiery defiance for a few seconds before all life inside faded away.

With renewed fury, Jingū was about to attack the nearest enemy when someone screamed her name. Turning toward the source, she saw a boy around her age glaring directly at her, his face twisted in hatred as he shoved his way toward her. Wearing black and blue samurai armor more exquisite than that of the samurai she’d just killed, the youth whirled his weapon expertly as he began to close the distance. Warriors on both sides gave the two a wide berth, most of them taking more of an interest in the inevitable fight than fighting each other.

“Jingū-san!” the teenager yelled again as he stopped a few meters away. “I, Totoyoshi Matsu, challenge you to a duel to avenge the honor of my liege, Fujisaka Touma, an honor you have sullied! Make no mistake, you shall drown in your own blood today!”

Simply staring hard at him, Jingū raced toward him, her katana held at her sides. “I acceeeept!” she screeched as she clashed with Matsu, daimyo and retainer dancing around each other in a whirlwind of death.

```````````````````````

The samurai and ashigaru tasked with guarding the Hideyoshi camp looked on as the battle joined in the fields, most of them longing to join the fight. In the distance, several circles amid the bodies widened as high-ranking individuals dueled each other, fighting either to gain more honor or to avenge stains upon the one they had. On the right flank of the Dawn Coalition’s armies, the cavalries of the Fujisaka, Ryutsuke, and Chosokabe clans fought to defend their respective flanks while searching for openings to strike at those of their foes. The Hideki ashigaru and foot samurai were curling around the left flank of the Hideyoshi forces though, without the support of their strangely missing cavalry, their maneuver will soon be held at bay temporarily by the overstretched Hideyoshi cavalry.

Nevertheless, it was clear that without the help of Amaterasu herself the Dawn Coalition and their dreams would end here in the Field of Honshu before it even began. In fact, the goddess being on their side is the only reason why Shiba even agreed with having the Dawn Coalition engage their more numerous enemies in the flat plains of Honshu in the first place.

Observing the battle, Shiba tapped her foot as if waiting for something, a hand holding her naginata firmly. The other hand gripped a seeing-glass, which she then used to survey the battle closely. Yumeji was directing the cavalry into smashing through the Hideki ranks as Misato and Oba fought their way toward Jingū. Her liege was dueling who appeared to be one of Touma's retainers, a boy around Jingū's age. For now, the two seemed evenly matched.

'If only you could see what she'd become, Hirohito-dono.'

Shouting grabbed her attention and Shiba turned just in time to see one of the camp samurai running toward her, his eyes widened in alarm. Shouting at every warrior he passed, he stopped in front of Shiba and bowed quickly, his chest heaving as he gathered enough of his breath to speak.

“Shiba-sama, *huff* enemy horsemen are attacking the camps from the rear!” he huffed.

Shiba remained calm though inwardly her blood raced. It was time. “How many did you see, warrior?” she calmly inquired.

“About twenty-three were heading for the Chosokabe camp * huff* and another twenty-six toward the Ryutsuke,” the samurai gasped. “Thirty-seven are on their way to this camp! They all wore the colors of the Hideki-AAAAH!”

A broad-headed arrow emerged from the samurai’s throat, sprinkling droplets onto Shiba’s face. With a curse, Shiba wiped away the blood onto a sleeve and turned her attention to tents in the distance just as they burst into flames. The camp defenders engaged in battle with mounted samurai donning orange armor with four yellow dots on their shoulder guards.

"Warriors, rally on me!" Shiba bellowed to the nearby samurai, grunting when an arrow embedded itself into her right pauldron. "We must funnel them toward Amaterasu's tent!"

The bulk of the enemy horsemen raced in her direction, tossing torches into nearby tents and cutting down warriors too slow to defend themselves. Arrows from the nearest archers slammed into them, dropping a few of them, though the rest emerged relatively unharmed and returned fire. Screams of agony echoed around Shiba as arrows whizzed past her head and into flesh and armor.

"Move it! Move it! They're almost upon us! We have no time to waste!"

Shiba and the defenders moved to close the prepared trap. Defenders elsewhere managed to ambush and repulse stragglers toward the tent. Realizing that they were about to be cut off from the rest of their allies in the field, the raiders tried to cut their way through the nearby tents, only to find more defenders waiting for them on the other side. Now trapped in the middle of an encampment and surrounded by enemies, the samurai who appeared to be leading the raid did what most would consider the most sensible thing to do in such a situation.

He gave the order to charge the weakest formations of defenders he could identify.

"Brace damn you!" Shiba yelled as the enemy unleashed themselves upon them.

Ashigaru and samurai braced as the enemy cavalry slammed into them, some getting impaled onto their lances. Arrows peppered defender and raider alike as pandemonium and blood spread everywhere. Shiba and the defenders repelled a charge with their polearms and finished off the downed riders, ignoring the arrows glancing off her armor though the thuds of impact stung through her kimono.

"They're breaking through! Push them back!" she shouted.

One of the Hideki galloped next to the tent unnoticed, an arrow notched on his bowstring. He drew back the bowstring and raised the bow as he aimed at Shiba, mentally calculating the trajectory he must use to send the projectile into the side of her unprotected neck. A bitter smile stretched across the samurai’s face as the thought of avenging his fallen comrades entered his mind. This so-called ‘Dawn Coalition’ was finished the moment it caught the attention of his liege and Touma-dono.

Clans don't last very long in this godsforsaken land.

Just as he was about to take the shot, a massive blade sliced through the fabric of the tent behind him and impaled both horse and rider. The shock caused him to launch the arrow and the projectile merely glanced off an ashigaru’s helmet before burying itself into the ground. The samurai didn’t even get a chance to register his death before the blade glowed red hot within seconds. Both man and beast screamed for only a few seconds before they were reduced to pools of molten armor and clouds of ash and embers.

Everyone in the camp immediately stopped fighting and turned toward the tent just as the blade rose rapidly, slicing a burning slit in the fabric. Stepping through the opening as the tent burned down around her, Amaterasu looked at the humans at her feet, her red-hot blade resting on her shoulder. However, the heat didn’t even scorch her kimono. She glowed what mortals would call a divine radiance. The air around her became hotter, almost as if the sun itself had come down to the earth in the form of a beautiful but deadly woman.

“Surrender and you will live to serve me,” the goddess spoke to them in a firm, authoritarian tone. “Resist and you would only deprive yourselves of a brighter future and your very lives.”

The nearest enemy samurai were unable to move, too awestruck by her overwhelming presence to do anything. However, a handful snapped out of their stupor and unleashed wordless warcries filed with desperation and terror. Amaterasu grunted when a few arrows sprouted on her chest like needles, small red stains appearing and spreading down the fabric of her kimono.

Fury gripping her heart, Shiba was about to order the defenders to attack when a massive orange blur whirred past her, washing her face in intense heat. The blur sliced through the offenders in a single stroke and scattered the cauterized halves of horses and men into the distance. The last of the attackers screamed as the blade sliced his horse in half and his legs as well. Landing among the camp defenders and his stunned comrades, the samurai howled out a curse before Amaterasu pinned him to the ground with a blade so hot that it reduced him to ashes and smelted the dirt underneath him into glass.

Pulling her blade free, Amaterasu glanced at the battle, which was changing pitch as the enemy soon became aware of her presence. “When you are finished securing this camp, spare a few men to aid the others,” the goddess said as she looked down at Shiba. “It’s time to let this country know that a goddess now fights for Jomon.”

“As you command, your Divinity!” Shiba called out to her as Amaterasu raced toward the battle before shouting orders to the defenders. Turning toward the leader of what remained of the Hideki raiding party, the hatamoto raised an eyebrow. “Now that you’ve seen our goddess, what do you want to do?”

Watching the goddess leave, the samurai turned his stunned gaze to Shiba and sighed. He then decided to do what most would consider the second most sensible thing to do in this situation. Needless to say, the Hideyoshi encampment will no longer be under threat for the duration of the battle.

Her sword raised above her head, Amaterasu activated an air gem within her being and watched as a bubble of air formed around herself. Just as expected, someone from among the enemy shouted a command and a volley of arrows rose from the Fujisaka forces, slamming harmlessly against her shield like rain against a pane of glass. Sure it would take much more than that to kill her outright but Amaterasu doesn’t exactly find being turned into a divine pincushion all that comfortable.

Below her, cheers arose from the Hideyoshi, Chosokabe, and Ryutsuke warriors as they gave her a wide berth, her graceful footfalls deceptively fast and nearly silent as she passed them. In front of her, the enemy warriors quickly began to melt away as she approached them, their cries of alarm and terror reaching her ears as some in the rear ranks even began to rout. A few scattered warriors, ashigaru and samurai alike, sat on their knees in the mud and blood, their faces buried in their hands or clasped together in supplication. Amaterasu smiled mirthlessly as whispers of their prayers for mercy reached her. Though she will not enjoy it, the goddess intends to break them and their armies until a clear message is sent: trifle with the sun and they will get burned.

Like the force of nature she is, the Empress of the Rising Sun smashed into the enemy’s frontlines with the force of a tsunami made of whirling blades and fiery death.

Screams and charred gibs sprung into the air in equal measure as Amaterasu carved a bloody and burning swathe through the enemy. As arrows and spells bounced off her shield, Amaterasu hurled a torrent of fiery projectiles at the offenders in retaliation. Several enemies were ignited by the thrown fire and spent the last minutes of their lives screaming as the flames consumed their bodies. Behind the goddess, allied warriors unleashed warcries as they rushed through the breach she created, killing and capturing anyone they encountered.

As the goddess slaughtered her way deeper into the enemy armies, she became aware that they were becoming more organized and resistant. A huge group of ashigaru formed a spearwall in front of her before charging a short distance, forcing her to stop as their commander frantically shouted orders. Suddenly, a pair of spells slammed into the portion of the air shield protecting her face and erupted into a cloud of multicolored explosions.

With a cry, Amaterasu nearly tripped as she was forced back dozens of meters as the battle raged around her. She was about to engage whichever mages were responsible when she felt a sharp jolt of pain rising from the back of her left ankle, prompted followed by a bright flash of light and several screams of shock. A quick look revealed a handful of Fujisaka samurai near the back of her left foot, a gash staining her heel red. The closest warrior, the one who’d cut her, screamed as he clutched his eyes, the victim of her innate close-combat blindness spell.

Raising her left foot, Amaterasu slammed it down onto the permanently blinded samurai and his surprised comrades in an earthshaking stomp, feeling their armor bend and their bones and flesh snap through the sandal as a sound not dissimilar to apples being crushed reached her ears. Blood splattered onto her white split-toe socks as well as the bottom edge of her robe. In front of her, the enemy ashigaru paled but eventually gathered enough courage to charge her. Some of the mangled corpses of the samurai clung to the sole of her sandal as Amaterasu got into a combat stance and slashed at the incoming enemy, Though the burning blade scythed through a third of their number, including their commander, the ashigaru screamed ragged cries as they charged forward as if spurred on by someone or something they feared more than her.

The first rows of ashigaru rammed their yari into her feet and ankles, eliciting a scream from Amaterasu as her socks were further drenched in blood. Her innate spell activated again, channeling light toward the eyes of the offenders. Those who didn’t possess the foresight to tightly shut their eyes screamed as the light seared their retinas. It was only due to her indomitable footing that she didn't fall to the ground.

Without hesitation, Amaterasu wiped out masses of ashigaru with fiery stroke after fiery stroke, immolating hundreds of men. Unable to take any more punishment, the surviving ashigaru threw down their weapons and fled, leaving behind what remained of their blinded comrades.

With a loud groan, the goddess shook free any yari still lodged in her lower extremities. Ignoring the blinded enemy at her feet, Amaterasu heard a loud moan behind her. Turning swiftly to intercept an attack, she instead found a Fujisaka samurai lying amid the gore of his brothers-in-arms. The sole survivor of the group she’d crushed underfoot, he moaned in agony as he cradled his right leg, the ruined limb pulverized below the knee.

As more allies rushed through the widening gap in the center of the crumbling enemy armies, Amaterasu bent over and picked up the samurai. Realizing what was going on, the warrior tried to wriggle out of her grip as his face contorted into a rictus of sheer terror and agony, his pitiful screams reaching her ears. Clamping his eyes shut, the samurai pulled out a dagger and began stabbing her hand repeatedly, spurts of blood and light shooting up each time the weapon pierced through skin and flesh. Suddenly, a thumb glowing with the radiance of the sun blocked his wrist and the samurai screamed as his skin burned, forcing him to let go of the dagger.

Ignoring the pain and bleeding, Amaterasu held the warrior up to her face just as he opened his eyes and screamed, a small scoff escaping her lips. For all their talk of engaging in glorious battles and dying good deaths, samurai are just as given to the terror of confronting foes they cannot hope to easily beat as the ashigaru they condescend. Mortals, especially humans, are opportunistic because that’s the only way they can ever succeed when dealing with beings beyond their ken, her father once remarked. Make it harder for them to take advantage of their betters and they will be as subservient as they are meant to be. Given that Izanagi ruled an era when magic was still a barely comprehensible force that ran amok, giant monsters roamed the world in greater numbers and feasted on entire villages, and most mortals were either slaves, arrow fodder, or food for more powerful beings, his views on such matters weren’t unexpected.

'Such a frightened, pathetic creature who thinks to challenge someone many orders of magnitude greater than it,' a dark part of her psyche growled, memories of harsh judgment and burning flesh stirring under lock and key.

As she continued to peer into the samurai’s frightened eyes, a sensation she’d thought she would never feel again after so long welled up inside of her. It was a feeling she once savored long before she’d won the worldwide adoration that spurred her jealous father into banishing her into Ama-no-Iwato. It was a feeling that existed well before all of the regret and the horror, before redemption was even sought. It was born on the day she’d first spilled blood, birthed from the terror-filled eyes of an unwashed bandit begging for mercy.

'A god worthy of the name must be quick to mete out justice for every act of defiance, no matter how slight. To show leniency is to invite rebellion,' the memory snarled, slowly morphing into her father's voice. 'Order demands examples made!'

It didn’t matter that this feeling was reawakened upon gazing at this samurai, this insect in the guise of a human, and not when she crushed his friends underfoot or burned through the ashigaru. She desired nothing more than to subject this vermin to a brutal death while savoring not only his resultant screams of agony but the fact that she literally had his life in her hands, to do with it as she saw fit. She felt in complete control like a proper goddess should.

'Heat up his skeleton, cook him from the inside, and let his flesh slip off his bones! Show the world that the sun is not to be trifled with!'

That very thought, however, threatened to make her empty her stomach.

With a sigh of disgust and self-loathing, she gently set the surprised but wary samurai onto a patch of flattened grass and snapped her fingers to grab the attention of a nearby group of Hideyoshi samurai, gritting her teeth at the pain. “You there!” she called to them before pointing at the wounded samurai. “See to it that this man is properly tended to.”

The samurai cast disgusted looks at the Fujisaka samurai before looking back at her as if wondering whether she’d gone out of her mind. However, the look she gave them brooked neither refusal nor any delays in obeying her command. The samurai who led this particular group motioned for one of his followers to retrieve the downed enemy.

“As you command, your Divinity!” he called out to her.

With a nod, Amaterasu stood back up and unleashed herself back onto the shattering enemy, biting down on the pain.

``````````````````````

Jingū parried a downward slash before unleashing a sideways swipe with her second katana that Matsu barely dodged. The Fujisaka retainer counterattacked with a fierce stab that glanced off the Hideyoshi daimyo’s armor. Grunting at the blow, Jingū booted Matsu away and attacked him with a rising slash which he managed to dodge, though the blade managed to slice off a few strands of hair. Regardless of his social standing or age, Matsu proved to be as obstinate as he was furious.

Suddenly, a bright flash of light shone from the direction of the camp just as she was about to swing one of her blades. A wave of hushed silence spread throughout the battlefield as nearly everyone turned to gaze upon Amaterasu in her divine, awe-inspiring splendor. The enemy’s awe soon erupted into sheer terror as Amaterasu began her sprint toward the battle lines, scrambling out of her path amid the cheers and jeers of the Dawn Coalition. Matsu’s face blanched as he turned back to Jingū, his lips wavering as his mind seemed to war between avenging his liege's honor and fleeing.

“It’s over Matsu, we have the advantage here,” Jingū said with a grim smirk. Five hundred yards away, Amaterasu raced toward the Fujisaka lines, a titanic force against which the enemy had no choice but to crumble. An involuntary shiver passed through Jingū's frame as she visualized for a split second what it would've been like to be on the receiving end of such an unrelenting force. “Your liege’s devotion to Shinigami is admirable but he’s not here fighting for your clan. We have already won this battle the moment our goddess entered the fray so the wisest course of action is to surrender.”

Matsu stared at Jingū for what seemed like an eternity wrapped within a second. His body trembled so violently that Jingū half-expected him to vibrate into dust. Finally, he sighed and lowered his weapon, his eyes drooped and his jaw set. “If there’s a goddess fighting for you then we were doomed from the very start. Even Touma-dono has to see that.”

“You’ve made the right decision, Matsu-san,” Jingū said as she turned toward Amaterasu just as she summoned a bubble made of air around herself. “Come, let’s end this madness-”

“ARCHERS! SHUGENJA! FOCUS YOUR FIRE ON THAT HEATHEN GODDESS!”

Jingū whipped around toward the source of that shout. Surrounded by a handful of his retainers, Touma sat on his horse, a pillar of confidence and defiance in the midst of the typhoon of violence and terror that inspired his nearby warriors to continue holding their ground despite wanting nothing more than to rout with most of the army. A volley of arrows and spells rose from among the Fujisaka and slammed into Amaterasu’s shield. Though they deflected harmlessly off the goddess’ barrier, the damage was already done elsewhere.

Hearing laughter behind her, Jingū turned barely in time to parry a slash that would’ve decapitated her.

“AHAHAHA!” Matsu laughed as he drove Jingū back with a series of slashes she barely parried. However, his eyes bore a look Jingū’s father once described to her one day, a distant and steely look that a warrior bears when he realizes that he is no longer destined to experience the peace of old age no matter how much he desired otherwise... and resigns himself to going out in a blaze of glory. “Even if what you said is true, even if we will lose this battle, it doesn’t matter anymore! If Touma-dono decides to die defying a false goddess then why should I not accompany him?!”

Jingū grunted as she parried more blows from the Fujisaka retainer. A slash that bounced off her burnt pauldron made a cut into her neck, narrowly missing her carotid. “Enough, Matsu-san! Your foolishness will only lead to death!”

“What is death if not the ultimate honor, especially when you die alongside your liege, the same liege who’d rescued you from an existence of loss, poverty, and ruin? The same liege who’d trained you in the art of combat and treated you almost like one of his own sons? The same liege who’d made you a retainer despite your social class and gave you good armor and weapons?”

“Please Matsu-san! You may owe Touma-san your gratitude but you owe yourself much more! You don't need to throw your life away in the name of honor!”

“I DON’T EXPECT YOU TO KNOW WHAT HONOR IS!” Matsu howled at Jingū, spraying spittle into her face as he feinted a swing toward her neck to hide another, more forceful stroke aimed at her abdomen. Jingū deflected the strong blow at the last minute though it nearly knocked her weapon out of her hand. In the dance of blades and sweat, Jingū saw tears streaming from Matsu's eyes. “You might as well kill me now because that’s the only way I’m going to stop!”

Jingū drove him back with a pirouetting overhand strike and wiped her face with a hand. “So be it,” she muttered.

With a roar, Matsu pirouetted over to Jingū’s left side and unleashed a horizontal slash. To his surprise, she batted the strike away before thrusting the katana held in her right hand toward his face. The attack forced him to sidestep toward his right where he counterattacked with a thrust aimed at her abdomen. Sidestepping at the last minute, Jingū let the thrust pass underneath her left arm before she tightly curled the limb around his forearms, locking his forearms in place. Before he could raise his left foot to kick her away, Jingū ran her katana through his abdomen and watched as the edge burst out of his back in a spray of blood.

Pushing Matsu away, Jingū watched as he dropped his katana and held his hands onto the wound, his expression warped into a mask of shock. Readying herself, Jingū raised the weapon in her left hand and brought it down into a fierce slash, allowing the blow to carry her forward. With a sickening slice, the slash sent Matsu’s head careening through the air. His body remained standing for a few seconds before flopping onto its back in the bloodied grass.

Breathing heavily, Jingū cleared her katana of blood with a flick and surveyed the battlefield. Though the Dawn Coalition was winning the battle, a core of resistance formed around Touma, who continued directing assaults on Amaterasu with a modicum of success. Not by a considerable margin given that most of his army was fleeing but enough to become a threat if left alone for too long. He was shouting at his men, dropping not-so-subtle hints that their families would find themselves giving him recompense along with their usual taxes should they give in to cowardice in the face of a heathen goddess.

Two pairs of footsteps rapidly approaching from behind her caused Jingū to pirouette, her twin katana already positioned to slice into the enemy. It wasn’t until they clashed with a no-dachi that she realized how close she came to making a terrible mistake.

“You really should learn to check your swings, my liege,” Misato said as she lowered her weapon, her playful smirk contrasted with her blood-stained armor. Beside her was Setsuke Oba, whose eyes seemed heavy with grief despite his stoic expression.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jingū regarded Misato. “I apologize Misato-san,” she said as she lowered her weapons as well. “I will endeavor to follow your advice.”

She then turned to Oba. “I’m tempted to wonder where my bodyguards' gone off to but I’m glad you’re alive and well...” Jingū trailed off when she noticed the grief in Oba’s eyes. Understanding welled up inside of her as her eyes began to water. “Kenji-san was a good man.”

Oba swallowed as he collected himself. “That he was, my liege. I couldn't ask for a better fellow bodyguard."

“He shall be avenged today, I guarantee it,” Jingū replied solemnly as she placed a reassuring hand on Oba’s shoulder, her expression hard.

“Thank you, my liege.”

Jingū turned her attention back to Touma just as his eyes locked with hers. Her hands tightened their grip on her weapons as he began relaying orders to his warriors, waving a hand directly at her. “It seems we gained our enemy’s attention,” she continued as her lips tightened. “Let’s keep them busy until Amaterasu joins us. If he flees, Touma will remain a thorn in our side for a long time.”

“Oh, you can count on us catching that bastard!” Misato growled, flashes of red inching from the edges of her eyes. Jingū never thought she would ever see the hatamoto this angry.

“As you command, my liege,” Oba acknowledged, mirroring Misato's sentiment.

“Good. It may be a while before Yumeji and his forces join us from the other side of the battlefield so it’s up to us now. Let’s get in there and show them how we fight!”

With a roar, Jingū and her retainers and warriors charged at Touma. The Fujisaka daimyo responded in kind, making a beeline for Jingū as he brought his horse into a gallop, his lance lowered. His warriors unleashed a fierce warcry as they rushed to meet the enemy. Waiting until he was almost upon her, Jingū leaped out of Touma’s path at the last minute and crouched as she whirled around, her blades already slicing through the air as Touma's lance drew a furrow down the back of her cuirass, kicking up a handful of sparks. The beast bowled over in a ball of fraying limbs and earsplitting screams as its front right leg was sliced off, catapulting its rider toward the charging Hideyoshi warriors.

To his credit, Touma managed to roll into a combat stance upon landing. At almost the same time, he attacked a trio of ashigaru with an iaido, slicing off their heads in a single stroke. A Hideyoshi samurai screeched as he closed the distance with a sword stroke. Touma deflected the blow and rammed his blade through the mouth of the warrior’s half-mask, the tip bursting out the back of his neck. Jerking the weapon free, Touma cut the legs from underneath another samurai and ended the man’s life with a decapitating slice. Three more samurai rushed him from different sides. Leaping out of the way just as they got close enough, Touma whirled around and sent the three warriors sprawling onto the ground with their bellies opened and their intestines spilling through the gashes.

As the Fujisaka daimyo carved his way through her warriors and retainers, Jingū strode toward him with a purpose, the rest of her fighters clashing with Touma’s retinue amid the screams of Touma’s unfortunate mount. The horse flailed in the mud at her feet, blood squirting out of the stump of its limb. Without taking her eyes off of Touma, Jingū hoisted her blade over the suffering equine’s skull, its eye focused on the weapon’s tip hovering just over a meter above it.

The sickening crunch of metal digging into flesh and bone, combined with the resultant, deafening silence, redirected Touma’s attention to her just in time to see Jingū rip her katana out of his horse’s skull. His jaw muscles tightening, he leveled a death stare at her though to her credit Jingū didn’t even flinch. Her warriors gave the two a wide berth.

“I really liked that horse,” he finally said coldly.

“Oh yeah?” Jingū responded as she tilted her head. “I really liked the horse your spellcasters burned half to death too.”

“I’ve heard your father died of an infection caused by an arrowhead embedding itself into a collarbone,” Touma mused as a cold smile formed underneath his half-mask. “A harrowing way for a warrior to go as opposed to dying gloriously in battle. I wonder just how disappointed his soul will be if his daughter was to die prematurely and effortlessly like the child she is.”

“Perhaps it will be you who will meet his father tonight,” Jingū said as she stopped a few meters from Touma. Even from this distance, Touma still towered over her.

Breath Jingū, In,... pause..., and out.

She centered herself once more with deep, controlled breaths. Memories of her sparring lessons with her father surfaced on the surface of her mind like a tutor buried within her subconscious, calling forth lessons that feel like they've been taught centuries ago “I’ll be sure to convince your heir that you died needlessly.”

“As soon as you’re finished talking, you garrulous daughter of a whore.”

Her face immediately flushed with anger, Jingū unleashed herself upon Touma, sending a flurry of slashes against the Fujisaka daimyo. Instead of counterattacking, he was simply content with deflecting the strikes while remaining economical with his movements. In stark contrast to Jingū, he'd faced many kinds of foes including those who emphasized speed and agility. Though one can become a formidable warrior by utilizing such a fighting style, it requires a great awareness of one’s position and stamina reserves, as well as good perception in order to use attacks and dodge effectively without getting too exhausted and leaving oneself open to attack. Inexperience and anger seemed to compound the tendency to make such a fatal mistake, and Jingū was showing both signs in spades.

In other words, the fate of the daimyo of the Hideyoshi Clan was sealed.

"What's the matter, can't penetrate my defenses, little girl? Perhaps you would've been capable of outmaneuvering me if you weren't the product of a dim-witted peasant and a courtesan with a venereal disease!"

Touma grinned to himself as Jingū renewed her attacks on him, her face a roaring mask of sheer fury. Her movements kicked up droplets of sweat as the fight dragged on, her blows becoming more erratic yet slower and therefore easier to parry. For a brief moment, Jingū’s exertion reminded Touma of Matsu when he’d first put the youth through close-combat training. The boy threw himself into whatever gauntlet Touma put him through, eager to repay the man who’d raised him from squalor and tragedy.

Come to think of it, where has that hot-blooded boy gone off to?

Deflecting a slash, Touma feinted another aimed at Jingū’s right, which she immediately shifted a blade to block. Before she could realize her mistake; however, Touma slammed a fierce kick into her face that caused her to stumble, almost falling onto the ground. Stunned by the sudden blow, Jingū roared as she unleashed a thrust from the katana held in her left hand that not only veered off the mark but caused her to overextend herself. Not the one to hesitate, Touma counterattacked with a rising slash aimed at her left wrist.

His thoughts howled in satisfaction as her left hand flew off in a bloody arc, its fingers still gripping the hilt of the katana.

Despite warriors from both sides fighting each other around them, a bone-chilling silence materialized between both daimyo as Jingū stared at the stump where her left hand was once attached, blood sporadically squirting out of the severed arteries like a small crimson geyser. This lasted for only a second stretched into eternity before what remained of her left wrist became inflamed with a sharp pain that shot up her arm like a burning arrow.

Jingū unleashed a shrill scream as she dropped her other katana and clutched her wrist to stem the bleeding. As Touma approached, Jingū frantically backed away from him. However, her sobs of agony seemed to urge him onward and the Fujisaka daimyo immediately rushed her with a thrust. Though she barely managed to move her head out of the way, his katana sliced through the strap holding her helmet to her head and it fell away, revealing a face warped into a rictus of agony and terror.

Jingū tried to flee, only for Touma to slam into her like a titan. The fierce tackle sent her sprawling onto the ground, her head almost landing on a rock. She scrambled away a few feet before Touma slammed a foot onto her abdomen, pinning her in place. Jingū let out a pained cry as he shifted more of his weight onto her stomach, threatening to crush her organs.

“You should’ve surrendered when I gave you the chance, then you would’ve been a dutiful wife with both hands instead of a one-handed girl playing warrior!” he growled as he raised the point of his katana over her right eye. “Now die like the impertinent girl you-”

Touma suddenly took his foot off of Jingū just in time to parry two retainers who rushed to engage him in melee. Howling in fury, Misato and Oba forced Touma back, working in unison. Grunting, the Fujisaka daimyo parried their sword strokes though a few were getting past his guard, earning him cuts and bruises. Forced on the defensive, Touma regarded the two retainers with grudging respect, especially the woman who appeared to be a fellow veteran of dozens of battles. Though it is unnatural for a man to acknowledge that a woman can have prowess on the battlefield just as well as he can, Touma allowed himself to abandon propriety just this once. Perhaps in another world, both sexes would be considered equal in both mind and ability.

Right now; however, he must reassert male dominance on the battlefield.

As her bodyguard and hatamoto fought Touma, Jingū tore a long strip of cloth from her kimono, using her teeth to rip the fabric. Still holding the cloth in her mouth, she wrapped it around the stump and wound it into a knot. With a groan of pain, she pulled both ends of the cloth tightly, stunting the bleeding.

Grabbing the rock next to her, Jingū stood up and stumbled toward the fight, ignoring the insects crawling from their muddy spots underneath the rock and all over her hand.

Her heart leaped when Touma sidestepped Oba’s lunge, forcing him to overreach. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as Touma unleashed a diagonal slash across her bodyguard’s back, taking him out of the fight. Misato seemed upset about Oba’s fall because she redoubled her efforts to break Touma’s guard. From her vantage point, Jingū could see that the Fujisaka daimyo was faltering though the hatamoto was getting progressively exhausted. Regardless of who will win, the fight will be over soon.

Suddenly, Misato overreached as Touma ducked underneath her no-dachi. He swiftly counterattacked with a lunge aimed at her midsection. Though she barely shifted her body to have the blow deflect off her armor, the force behind the strike caused her to stumble. Touma quickly followed up with a slash that bit into her right side, spraying an arc of blood through the air. Howling in pain, Misato slammed her weapon against Touma’s helmet. Though it blocked the blow, its straps snapped as the force tore the helmet off, revealing a head that’s been completely shaved, save for a short, braided ponytail with streaks of gray amid the black strands.

Roaring in rage, Touma slammed a vicious kick into Misato’s face, forcing the hatamoto back. Touma struck with a thrust aimed at her heart. However, Misato did something unexpected; she sidestepped out of the way and dropped her sword, grabbing both of his arms before he could react and raising them above her head. Struggling against the woman, who was surprisingly strong, Touma attempted to boot her away. Grunting as each blow landed on her midsection, Misato grunted as she looked toward the side.

Craning his neck in the same direction, Touma saw Jingū running toward him, a rock hoisted into the air in her remaining hand. He tried to get away from the young daimyo but Misato slammed a foot into his groin, forcing him onto a knee. Now trapped and subdued, Touma could only howl in rage and frustration before Jingū slammed the rock against his exposed temple, sending him sprawling onto the disturbed grass.

Her breaths coming in rapid succession, Jingū staggered over to the unconscious form of Touma as Misato watched briefly before nursing the cut in her side and checking on Oba. His shoulders rose and fell slowly as blood poured from the cut. As the cheers of her warriors filled her ears, Jingū stopped next to the Fujisaka daimyo and kicked him onto his back. Red filling her vision, Jingū straddled Touma and raised the rock over her head.

A cold smile spread over her face. “How’s this for being the daughter of a whore?!” she snarled as she prepared to bash in the Fujisaka daimyo’s skull.

“Stop!” a sharp voice pierced the air above her.

Shaken out of her anger, Jingū looked up to see Amaterasu towering above her, an expression of disapproval on her face. Her socks were drenched in blood and crimson pinpricks dotted her white kimono. However, Amaterasu’s mouth soon stretched into a warm grin. “You have won that fight. There’s no need to kill a potential ally,” the goddess spoke, her tone softening slightly. Drops of blood fell from one of her hands. “You and everyone here have done well and I am proud of you all.”

Taking one glance at Touma’s supine form, Jingū tossed the rock to the side and quickly stood up. She swayed as the adrenaline rush of battle faded away, replaced by aching muscles and exhaustion. Her severed wrist seemed to flare up in pain and Jingū did all she could to avoid whimpering, especially in front of her warriors. Even worse, the feeling of disgust and horror she’d been subconsciously suppressing throughout the entire battle came back in full force. “Th- thank you, your D- Divinity.”

“My liege, it’s okay; you can rest now,” Misato said as she approached, concern written on her face. However, Jingū could see hints of pride and respect in her eyes. “I will send for the healers.”

“I would love that as well as a warm bed,” Jingū slurred, her limbs as heavy as lead. A creeping sickness bubbled in her stomach. Dry heaving, Jingū quickly covered her mouth with her left hand, only to feel empty air. “Oh damn.”

A series of gasps and groans rose from those standing nearby as a torrent of partly digested lunch spewed out of Jingū’s mouth and onto her armor. With a cry of alarm, Misato rushed to Jingū’s side and caught her just as the Hideyoshi daimyo collapsed into her arms.

“You’ll get used to the carnage, my liege,” Misato purred as she stroked Jingū’s hair, ignoring bits of vomit staining her armor as well. “It’s always the first time that is the hardest.”

“It’s not just the blood I’m worried about…,” Jingū replied slowly before she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

(Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your likes, comments, and other support! I appreciated this!)