The sound of nervous chatter and excitement rose from the camp around Seikage as he looked over his equipment. Laid out on his bedroll were a whetstone, a tanto, an extra set of clothing, writing implements, a bamboo gourd, a fire-starting kit, a small cooking pot, half a bag of rice and some dried rations. Sighing, he picked up the fire-starting kit and slowly built a fire to cook his rice. As the fire crackled to life, a tired spearman laid out his own bedroll nearby. “Ronin-san, what led you to join our expedition?” he asked. Seikage shifted the katana in his obi so he could sit comfortably. “I heard in the village that merchants were being raided by a group of bandits. When the village leader asked for fighters, I offered my service. Why not make some extra money while doing a good deed?”
Chuckling, the spearman nodded. “Why not indeed? These damned bandits have been getting bold. They are not only attacking merchants—they hit outlying farms too. Those bastards killed my uncle and burned his house to the ground.” Interested, Seikage looked up after adding rice to the now-boiling pot of water. “What can you tell me about these bandits?” The spearman closed his eyes and scratched the back of his head, trying to recall.
“I heard that there is a group of about thirty men living in the forest. Some say that their leader carries a cursed spear. Anyone who survives being struck by it ends up in agony until they die.”
Leaning forward, Seikage lifted the lid from his cooking pot. The scent of warm rice drifted up, comforting in its simplicity. He added the last bit of dried fish he had purchased from a local villager a few days ago. Stirring the rice and fish together, he blew gently to cool it. “Do you think this small, ragtag suppression group will be enough?” he asked. The spearman nodded. “I think so. We may not be professional soldiers, but most of us countrymen know how to fight. The suppression force has forty men, and half of them are trained guards. But I guess we will find out soon. I heard the guard captain say we will reach the forest in two days.” The spearman pulled a sweet potato from inside his kosode and took a bite. Sighing, he said “I hope we can end these bastards soon. That way my family spirits can rest.” After the two finished eating, they lay down listening to the crackling fire lost in their own thoughts. Neither of them looking forward to another long day of marching.
Seikage looked up as a dark cloud covered the noon sky. As the shadow passed over, Seikage looked off into the distance, staring at the ever-growing tree line that had slowly encroached along the side of the road they were walking down. He swore that he had seen flickering movement behind the trees. “Ambush! Enemies attacking from the rear!” A loud shout rang out from one of the rear guards. As an arrow shot towards them, Seikage side stepped and drew his sword. Cutting upward, he broke another arrow in two as he shouted “Enemy contact, front!” With a loud roar, fifteen fighters rushed forward, throwing off the cut branches they used to hide the trench they used for concealment. They had hidden themselves fifty yards away from the road, as they blended in with the thickening underbrush. Five men broke off from the suppression force and charged towards the incoming bandits. Archers began firing arrows towards the group, bringing down three of the bandits. As the archers fired, six spearman wearing leather tatami dō stepped in front of the archers and moved into a defensive stance to protect the archers. As Seikage ran past the forming spear line with several others he recognized the spearman from the previous night.
As he charged, the warrior to his left collapsed, an arrow embedded in his throat. With his sword extended down to his side, Seikage cut upward as soon as he was in range with the closest bandit. His first cut cleaved through the bandit that stabbed forward with his spear. Seikage spun left, cutting out horizontally as he forced another bandit back. The bandit lunged in again as he thrusted his sword forward. Parrying the thrust, Seikage swung his katana around and slashed down into the bandit’s neck. As the headless body fell, he threw out a side kick, that hit another bandit hard enough to crack the bandit’s lacquered armor. Kicking off at the same time, Seikage threw himself into a roll as an axe cleaved the air where he had just stood. Rolling to his feet, he swept his katana out horizontally taking the axe wielder’s leg. Blocking another spear thrust, he roared as he drove the spear tip into the ground. Shifting his weight towards his back leg, he pushed off and leapt forward, driving the tip of his katana into the heart of a dumbfounded bandit.
Screams of pain and rage echoed around him as the two forces clashed. A sharp burning pain flashed across his face as an arrow streaked by, nearly missing his head. Fighting had broken out across the line. It seemed that the bandit group had been lying in wait, hoping to overpower the suppression force with a surprised blitz. Following the flight of the arrows, Seikage saw three archers as they stepped out from behind trees, drawing back their bows to unleash another volley of arrows towards the front line. The spearman protecting the archers had their hands full as they fought off a small group of bandits that had broken away from the main melee. Another spearman fell after an arrow struck him in the chest. The opening allowed a bandit to lunge forward as drove his spear into one of the archers. The cries and smells of death was all around Seikage, bandits and villagers alike fell beneath the blades of the opposing forces.
Using one of his movement techniques, Seikage rushed forward into the tree line. Flash stepping to the side of a tree, his sword cut down through an archer’s bow, slashing deeply into the archer. He kicked forward, shoving the bleeding archer into the path of the next archer as his arrow shot forward. The arrow sank deep into the bowless archer’s back with enough force to send the body jerking towards Seikage. Sidestepping the body, he reached down to his obi and threw his hand out. With a wet sound, the tanto he launched sank deep into the archer’s chest. Dodging to his right, Seikage kept a tree between him and the remaining bandit archer. A loud thunk sounded as an arrow struck the tree where Seikage would have been. The archer fumbled to draw another arrow from his quiver as Seikage sprinted out from behind the tree. Slashing down with his katana, Seikage blocked the hastily shot arrow. The archer tossed aside his bow and drew his sword, waiting for Seikage’s approach. The archer lunged, stabbing towards Seikage’s chest. Redirecting the bandit’s sword to his left, Seikage countered with a quick reverse slash. His katana bit deeply into the archer’s body and lodged halfway through. With a grunt, Seikage withdrew his katana from the archer’s chest. He took in a deep breath as he assessed his surroundings and the battle unfolding along the road.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
It became obvious that there had been at least fifty bandits in the ambush. He counted at least thirty-five bandits still alive, fighting the more organized suppression force. Breathing heavily, Seikage, slowed his breathing and tried to force his heart rate down as he determined where he could be of most use. As he looked towards the center line, he saw the guard captain fall from his horse as a spear punched through his armor and deep into his side. The four remaining archers from the vanguard kept shooting into the bandit’s line and ended the life of two more. Around the three remaining defensive spearmen laid eight bodies in the blood soaked road. This is going to be a close one, Seikage thought as moved towards the fallen guard captain.
Seikage moved down the line, slaying two more bandits as he fought his way towards the center line. A small circle had opened around an armored individual that was wielding a black spear. At his feet laid the body of the guard captain and five others from the suppression force. The bandit leader, if I end his life than the others may surrender. Stepping into the circle, Seikage called out his challenge, “Face me!” Lowering into a guarded stance, he studied the man in front of him. The leader was a tall and wiry man with a jagged scar running down the right side of his face, from the top of his brow, across a clouded eye, and ending at his jaw. His tattered lamella armor looked like it was scavenged off multiple dead soldiers but, was still functional. With a gravelly voice that sounded like grinding rocks he said, “My Yama-no-Tōge will gladly drink your blood.”
The bandit’s spear streaked forward repeatedly, forcing Seikage to block and give ground. Seikage knew that a single misstep could cost him his life. As Yama-no-Tōge’s barbed blade flashed forward, he could feel the corrosive qi that radiated off the spear. As it swiped in front of his face, it sounded as though the air howled in pain. The bandit leader attacked with both ends of his spear. After each thrust, he used the gnarled black shaft like a bo staff, striking out at Seikage’s legs. Blade, shaft, blade, shaft, blade shaft, the relentless attack constantly changed angles with the occasional thrust. Seikage was kept on the defense biding his time for his counter strike. The spear’s blade slipped through Seikage’s defense, carving a deep laceration along his ribs. Gritting his teeth, Seikage stepped in closing the distance. With a thrust, his katana stabbed through the air exchanging hit for hit. However, the bandit leader’s armor prevented the wound from being serious. Using the force from Seikage’s blow, the bandit leader pivoted right and swept the shaft into Seikage’s lead leg. A burning pain exploded from his right leg as it collapsed beneath his own weight, sending him into the ground. The bandit leader stood above him and laughed, “You almost had me in the last exchange. Sadly, that was your only chance.” Raising Yama-no-Tōge, the bandit leader stabbed down towards Seikage’s chest. Seikage timed his movement perfectly. The bandit leader let out a painful cry as Seikage rolled to his side and slashed upwards. His katana had cut across the back of the bandit leader’s legs, causing the leader to fall and drop his spear. Grunting in pain, Seikage sat up to put an end to this battle. He shifted forward, ready to send the man to hell. However, he whirled around after hearing thundering hoofs. Wide eyed, he stared as a large kanabō descended. As his vision dimmed, Seikage faintly heard the bandit riding away on the guard captain’s horse. Somewhere in the distance, a fading war horn echoed through his mind as the void took him.
A throbbing, burning sensation intensified as he slowly clawed his way out of unconsciousness. He couldn’t tell if it had been hours or days since the desperate struggle for his life. Pain radiated from his ribs and leg—sharp, burning pinpricks, like his body was being fed on by centipedes. Seikage slowly opened his eyes and groaned. Every breath and movement sent jolts of pain through him. After a moment, he sat up, only to cry out as another shock tore through his side. Clutching his ribs, he winced and waited for the wave of agony to pass. When he finally pulled his hand away, it came back wet with fresh blood.
He glanced around. His katana lay just out of reach. Barely able to move onto his knees, he dragged himself forward and sheathed the blade. Nearby, a broken spear shaft stuck out of a corpse. He gripped it and used it to pull himself to his feet. Everywhere he looked laid bodies of the dead and broken, torn apart by steel, fire, and fury. The field was no longer a battlefield. Instead it had became a graveyard and the scavengers had already come.
Carrion birds circled above. In the distance, he spotted hunched figures picking through the dead. Men. Not rescuers, these were the crow pickers, looters who would just as soon gut the wounded for their coin as spare them. Disoriented, Seikage limped toward the forest, his only thought to put distance between himself and the scavengers. This was not the first time he had seen crow pickers kill a defenseless warrior. It would not be the last.
There was no sense of time or distance. The effort of staying conscious was a battle of its own. Hours must have passed before he stumbled into a clearing surrounded by tall bamboo. At its heart, a still pond shimmered, fed by a thin stream winding deeper into the forest. He collapsed at the water’s edge, dipping his hand into the cool stream as he tried to drink. His vision swam as darkness crept in from the edges. It was then, that he saw them. Eyes that were Jade-colored, luminous, and unblinking. Those eyes kept watching him from the edge of the bamboo and underbrush. They hovered there, the only thing he could make out as the last of his strength gave way. Then, the world fell away once more.