Putting together an expeditionary force gave me a whole new appreciation for the hard work and genius of Lord Ota. Actually, the label "expeditionary force" was far too flattering. More accurate would be to say that I was leading an organized mob. Or, drawing on the comparison from my previous life, a very disorganized field trip.

The journey from our little mountain village to the source of our problems wasn't far. We were on the northern border of Owari province, while our target sat near the southern border of Mino province. I could probably have made the trip in a day. Even bringing my students along, it wouldn't have taken more than two.

We had to spend two weeks imposing some organization on our barely trained mob of peasants before we could even leave. It wasn't all a waste of time. The delay gave time for news to reach the surrounding towns, leading to an influx of new troops. Who, of course, had to be told where to go and accounted for in our planning.

There was no way that I was going to complete this subjugation within the three month deadline that I had been aiming for. I thought it would be all right. Lord Ota had never set a specific deadline for when I should return his troops. I was sure he'd send a messenger out to check on me if I dawdled around for too long, but the three month deadline had been purely self-imposed. Letting it slip for a few weeks, or even a couple of months, shouldn't be a problem.

I often lamented to myself over the primitive communications infrastructure in my second life. Losing my cellphone had honestly been a bigger change than being born in a new country or needing to learn a new language. It wasn't all bad, though. As an employee, I appreciated the slack created by the distance between myself and the manager.

As a manager, of course, I chafed against the shackles placed on me by technology. In order to convey orders to the five hundred-odd men who would be fighting alongside me, I had to tell Hideyoshi what we were going to do. He'd spread it out to the commanders of the smaller fighting units. Then they'd spread the word to their troops. Each step of the way took time and was an avenue for miscommunication.

In theory I could communicate more precise orders by writing them down. But the men fighting for me couldn't read, and, more embarrassingly, I couldn't write. Not in any locally useful language, at least. To be honest, I wasn't even sure I could claim to be able to write in English any more. If I sent a missive to present-day England, I had no idea what they would make of it.

All that I could do was resign myself to the inevitable mix-ups and keep my orders as simple as possible. As long as enough people marched to the destination and formed up in a coherent fighting force at the end of the trip, we should be all right.

To be honest, I was hoping that the news of our approach would be enough to send them running. An invading army was the kind of thing that could send a utopian project into a spiral of failure, blame, and recriminations. As much as I would like to have a victory under my belt, adding to Lord Ota's territory without any bloodshed would also be quite the feather in my cap.

At least, without shedding any enemy blood. I was about ready to hurt somebody on our side if it would get the army moving faster. Watching the first day's march was agonizing. With all the time we'd taken to get everybody organized and moving in the right direction, we still covered barely a quarter of the distance to our target.

Of course, that was just the frustration talking. I knew that not every problem could be solved by swinging a sword at it. In this case, moving an army at any kind of decent speed required either a high level of technology or at least a high level of training. Keeping these villagers from wandering off on their own into the forest was already considered pretty good, at least according to Hideyoshi.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

I'd called a strategy meeting after the first night just to make sure things were going according to plan. If not according to my plan, then at least according to the usual sort of plan involved with this kind of invasion. It was just me, Hideyoshi, and Harumasa sitting around a fire after we'd finished munching on our evening riceballs.

I felt a brief pang of homesickness. I'd often sat around in the evening with Kana, talking about magical theory and about our dreams for the future. Part of me wished she was here with us, even if she couldn't offer any useful military advice.

I shook my head. The person I'd really like to have along with me was Shibadai Katsuie. The prospect of going into a battle where I was clearly the strongest fighter in the whole army put a lot of pressure on me. There wouldn't be anybody around who could bail me out if I got in over my head. Worse, if I ran away, it would be too high profile to be swept under the rug. If I needed to flee in order to save my own skin, I could forget about living in Lord Ota's territory any longer.

The other thing that Shibadai Katsuie would have brought to the table was a clear chain of command. At the moment, my only actual authority was as the teacher for my twelve aspiring sword saints. To some extent everybody else would follow my lead just because I was the strongest fighter around, but my mind would be more at ease if I had a more legitimate source of authority on hand.

Right now, I wasn't so much leading this army as I was just marching in the same direction, out in front of them. That was why I felt the need to run my more unorthodox ideas past Hideyoshi to make sure the men would actually follow my orders once I handed them out.

For example, I'd been thinking about sending my students charging straight into battle without waiting for any initial developments to play out, in order to exploit the enemy's lack of sword saints. Logically, I expected they'd be happy to get straight to the bloodshed, but they might hesitate at being sent into a prepared defensive line.

"When we reach the enemy," I said, "I intend to send our sword saints forward first."

Hideyoshi looked surprised at the suggestion. He bit back his initial response, though, and thought the matter through before he said anything. "We've heard that the rebels have between two and four thousand men."

"Yes, but no sword saints, not even any half baked trainees," I said. "I don't expect you to take out the whole enemy army by yourselves, but just to destroy their cohesion. If there's unexpected resistance, then I can make a move."

The situation could turn dangerous if the enemy turned out to have a force capable of contending with my little squad of sword saints. It was unlikely, but it behooved me to prepare for unlikely scenarios when they could end in my own death if they came to fruition.

In particular, I thought that anything a bunch of religious fanatics could come up with to take on sword saints would rely on one of two things: massive fixed weaponry emplacements, or self-sacrificial human-wave attacks. In the event that they had some kind of artillery set up that could threaten my sword saints, then it would be a matter of spotting it beforehand and taking it out before it could turn the tide of battle. If they came at us with unbreakable morale in human waves, then I would order an immediate retreat. If we could manage a retreat in good order in the face of a bunch of overzealous fanatics, there was a good chance that they would overextend and let us turn things around on them.

"It's our honor to be given this task," Hideyoshi said, offering me a grateful bow. When he straightened up, he hesitated for a moment before he continued. "There is a chance that they will hide behind their walls and refuse to fight."

I nodded. Staying behind defensive works was always safer than open battle. It was where I wanted to spend the rest of my career. "Do we know anything about their fortifications?"

Hideyoshi nodded. "It's said to be a temple complex on a hill overlooking the largest village that has gone over to their control."

That didn't sound too bad. I'd feel a little guilty about mounting a military assault on a temple, but it was their fault for turning it into a military fortification. Just as this whole invasion was really their fault. I might be the first person to lead troops across the border, but they were the ones who had started it by sending bandits every which way to threaten their neighbors and disrupt the peace.