August 29th, 298 BC — Late Afternoon, Hills of Tatsuya, Tanaka Province

  The hooves beat steadily on the dry ridge of the Mikagami Path, dust curling in the air like rising smoke. The late August sun dipped toward the western lip of the sky, a burning gold disc melting into the blue. Horses buffed, their flanks wet with sweat, steam trailing their nostrils like battlefield ghosts.

  In the center of this rhythmic gallop, Gendo San, arms crossed like a war monk in meditation, rode in silent authority. The black crest of his helmet cut through the sunlight. Beside him, Bakkurou Jin, a lean man with a permanent scowl, adjusted the grip on his reins. Behind them followed Sawai and Tsunamoto, young but sharp-eyed, their armor rattling in rhythm with the warhorses’ stride.

  Sawai exhaled and glanced skyward."I wonder what Kofi is doing now... and Imei, Lima... especially my sweet Osaka."His voice trembled at the edge of a sigh.

  Tsunamoto's brow furrowed as he wiped sweat from his cheek."Do you feel that pressure?"

  Sawai blinked. “Uh... what are you talking about?”

  At that very instant, five riders appeared over the ridge like ghosts from the past—emissaries sent ahead. One removed his helmet.“My lord,” he called, breathless, “we estimate the rebels’ numbers have swelled to 38,000.”

  Still, Gendo remained statuesque, eyes closed, as if he were seeing something no one else could.

  “My lord,” Bakkurou Jin said with urgency, “we’re approaching Eisaki Pass.”

  Gendo opened his eyes. Two glints of steel.

  Narrator’s Voice:The army Gendo mustered from Natsu Province rode the spine of the Mikagami Ridge, a rugged highway carved by ancient hands that linked the coastal lands to the green belly of Tanna. Their destination, Eisaki Pass, was the final threshold before reaching Shuri, the capital of the province. To their north loomed the Kaigen no Soga, a web of forest ridges; to their east, the vast intersection called Tatsuya Hill—where the fates of rebels and rulers would collide.

  Meanwhile, weaving like shadows through the darkening boughs of the Kaigen Forest, Chiyou led 500 of the 5000 troops under Lord Kanzaki’s banner. Unlike Gendo, Kanzaki’s strategy split his force—he would ascend through the ridges while Chiyou cut through the heart of the forest.

  Kaigen reflected soft green and golden light, leaves whispering in ancient tongues. Chiyou squinted toward the clouds swelling above.“Clouds?” he murmured. “But it was meant to be sun today…”

  From the underbrush, whispers slithered.

  He raised his fist.

  His men froze.

  He dismounted quietly and slipped through bramble and leaf. Then he saw them—men in ragged armor with Hitachi insignias. Thirty of them.

  Chiyou’s retainer, Waro, crouched beside him.“These men... They’re from Hitachi, Chiyou-san.”

  Chiyou’s temples tightened. A frown bloomed on his face like the edge of a blade.

  “Intercept,” he said, remounting.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  He galloped into the clearing, voice thunderous.“Peace to you, Tannans. Where are you from?”

  No answer. Just faces—twitching, afraid, silent.

  Waro snapped. “You’re guards from Hitachi!”

  Still, silence.

  Chiyou chuckled low. “So you’re rebels.”

  Steel rasped like a snake’s hiss. The guards lunged—pikes raised, eyes wild.

  Time slowed.

  Chiyou’s blades sang free. In a flurry of motion, he twisted like smoke, slicing shafts mid-air, blades flashing in loops—clean cuts, disabling, never killing.

  “Please! Spare us!” one of the rebels screamed.“We were ordered by Hidemasa, Lord of Hitachi! These provisions—” he pointed to the carriages—“they’re meant for the rebels.”

  Chiyou’s blade halted at the man’s throat. His eyes narrowed.

  He signaled Waro. “Burn it.”

  Flames devoured the treacherous supply wagons as the chained Hitachi men looked on in shame. Chiyou turned away, fire crackling behind him.

  Could all this turmoil in Tanna be caused by one man? he thought.I once believed only Kanzaki could stir such tides...

  At the edge of the Kaigen Forest, Kanzaki—ever formidable—watched the horizon. His long hair flicked behind him like a banner as he addressed his captains.

  “The proximity of an army... causes decay to spread,” he said, his voice as sharp as mountain air. “At this pace, Shuri will rot before the enemy even enters. It will become a graveyard.”

  Chiyou arrived, panting from the gallop.“I see,” he muttered, recalling Kofi’s eerie words from days past.

  Kanzaki continued, “Whoever planned this... must rival the Four Greats of Tanna. Shota Shingun, myself, Gendo, and Lady Misato—”

  He paused.

  “Misato, the Iron Lily of Mino Province. Not born of Tanna’s soil, yet she conquered its wars like she conquered its hearts.”

  He gazed at the brewing clouds.“This... This isn’t a war. It’s Kuroboshi no Senjutsu—the ‘Stardust of Reversal’. The opposite of the Locust Strategy.”

  Narrator’s Voice:Where the Locust Strategy devours from without, the Stardust of Reversal collapses from within—by flooding a city with survivors, rebels, and fear, it forces the citizens to cannibalize their trust, turning even loyal men against the capital’s authority.

  From the crest of the opposite hill, Kanzaki saw him—Gendo the Sweeper, descending upon Eisaki Lass, the lower gate of the pass. His banners rippled like serpents. Their eyes met across the wind.

  Amonkai Barracks, miles behind the frontlines.

  Soldiers repaired armor, sharpened blades, oiling bows and brushing horses. Fire pits hissed. Tools clanked. The smell of sweat and steel filled the air.

  Kofi lay on the grass, throwing daggers at a coat nail. Each toss perfect.

  Lima dangled upside down from a wooden chair, moaning.“What a dull, stinking situation…”

  Imei, dozing off, stirred as hoofbeats sounded.

  A messenger skidded to a stop.“Message for Imei-san.”

  Imei sat up, caught the scroll, and unrolled it. His lips curved in a small grin.“Hey, guys… you know where the Totsuro River is?”

  Lima blinked. “The Totsu-what?”

  “You mean the river where ducks outnumber people?” Kofi laughed.

  Lima sat upright. “Wait. Is that the place with the upside-down bridge?”

  But far away, the mood darkened.

  Nanio, a sovereign island city-state. Storms raged.

  A carriage rocked through mud and flash rain. Inside, sat the Head of Governmental Affairs, Lord Yonetsu, and across him—King Tannagork II.

  “My lord,” Yonetsu said, “we have arrived.”

  Tannagork wiped rain-sweat from his temple and stepped out. His boots splashed into puddles. At that moment, he saw it—a squirrel, soaked and trembling.

  Asuna would’ve loved this… he thought with a smile.

  Lightning cracked.

  The squirrel convulsed. Fried mid-step.

  Tannagork paled.

  “My lord?” Yonetsu called again.

  “Yes...” the king muttered, voice brittle.

  He trudged forward, guards flanking him, toward the great black palace gates.

  Yonetsu lingered, glancing once at the scorched animal, then the obsidian sky above.“Lord Adonai, help us.”