by Travis Bughi
The oni jumped back then, and Takeo, too, as a thin line cracked in a jagged path along the sword’s length, spitting dirt but also steam, then fire, then snow. Takeo gaped in wonder as the land opened up, pulling apart around the sword in a vivid display. The dirt gave way to an alien world of fire and ice, split evenly upon each side of the blade. On Tokhta’s side, fire and magma burst out, starting small grass fires. On Takeo’s side, white-blue snow and shards of ice whirled in a blizzard, freezing the ground dead in a web of cold.
The sword fell into the mix, handle first, then sunk like a ship until the bloodied tip was swallowed whole. Then the ground snapped shut, and total silence returned. The only evidence left behind was a ring of grass, half of it burnt to a crisp, the other half frozen solid.
Takeo gaped, sweat forming on his brow despite the icy winds that had blanketed him moments before. He hadn’t moved. He kept his wide stance, waiting for the world to shake again, but it held still. He looked around, looked at himself, and waited. Nothing felt different. He expected something to feel different.
Tokhta closed his eyes, raised his chin, and let loose a blood curdling roar.
“Is it over?” Takeo asked when the oni finished. “What happens now?”
“Now, my lord,” Tokhta replied, “we fulfill our end of the bargain.”
The ground began to tremble again, and Takeo feared the world would split once more, but this was different. Takeo knew this. He looked around and saw they weren’t alone anymore.
All the oni had come.
* * *
The approaching oni horde sent the Hanu camp into an uproar. Horns sounded, sentries went running, and troops were roused. They managed to comb together a strong defensive line until people noticed that Takeo Karaoshi was at the head of the oni column. Even then, they didn’t relent, thinking their eyes deceived them until Takeo’s callous voice commanded them to make way.
It took time, but they did. Reluctantly at first, but then with vigor as they hurried to avoid being trampled. The oni did not slow. Thus, the Hanu defensive line became a crowd of spectators as two dozen oni marched in ranks behind the ronin, weapons resting on their shoulders and crazed eyes focused on the mountain ahead.
Takeo was glad the mistake had been made. The horns would rouse the entire camp, and the more witnesses the better.
The faces that watched them wore jumbled expressions of confusion, shock, and fear. Never before had so many oni been gathered in one spot, and never before had they acted with such determination. They didn’t march in step or follow each other at an even pace, but to see them walk in any sort of lazy formation at all was impressive. The ground trembled at their combined weight, but the air was otherwise deathly still at their passing.
Takeo did not spare a look at his common troops. He could not risk a glimmer of doubt or regret slipping through his aura of confidence. Of all the things Takeo had done, he knew this would shake the foundation of his soldiers’ loyalty. It was possible that they would not see these oni as welcomed comrades, but instead as unwanted replacements that stained their honor and sacrifice. However, total victory and a show of utter confidence would see them through the turmoil, just as the Hanu lords and ladies of old had done.
Above all else, soldiers loved to win.
The oni column reached the inner edge of the Hanu ring surrounding the Nguyen fortress and kept on marching through the plains, over low hills, and into the burned-out ruins of the old village that used to sit in the mountain’s shadow. Horns were ringing out from the Nguyen fortress now, followed by short cries and unintelligible commands.
Takeo looked up the narrow pathway that spiraled around the mountain to the top, broken by three standalone gates before one finally reached the fortress’ walls and the last entryway into the place. He took in the lack of cover, the thick stone barriers, the steep ground, the number of vantage points for the defenders, and the sheer impossibility of assaulting this impregnable monument.
Then he took a breath and gave the command to destroy it.
“Now.”
Behind and to Takeo’s right, Tokhta roared, and the oni charged. They broke into a burst of speed that would rival a komainu as they thundered passed Takeo. Their stampede shook the ground until the burned-out ruins around them crumbled, and the red oni feet sent up a cloud of dust. The Nguyen defenders broke from their trance as someone gave the command to loose defenses, and a hundred arrows rained down from the mountainside. Each human-killing shaft that struck an oni might as well have missed for all the good it did as the oni never so much as flinched until they reached the first gate at the mountain’s base.
Layers upon layers of thick stone shook in place as a horde of oni muscle mass and bone rocked into it. The human defenders atop the walls screamed and scrambled to man their defenses. The thick gate, sealed shut with several iron bars locked in place, was utterly useless as the oni were nearly as tall as the walls themselves. The first oni to hit the walls leapt up to catch the stony lip, and the oni below shoved their brethren up into the air. The first impenetrable defense was breached in moments, and the oni began to lay waste to structures and defenders alike.
Nguyen soldiers screamed as oni weapons cleared the walls, sending green-armored men flying in several directions and spraying red blood into the air. The first few oni over the wall jumped down to the other side and shattered the gate’s locks, bashing the doors open as if they were made of paper. Arrows poured down from above, but the oni kept their heads down, and the shafts broke uselessly into the wide, fleshy parts of their backs and shoulders.
The oni horde roared and charged up the hill. Burning oil, meant to be poured on normal human attackers, spilled out over the scene, setting the gate’s remains aflame.
Takeo raised his chin and walked unarmed through the destruction.
The path ahead narrowed and grew steep. The oni rounded the next bend and came into sight of the ballistae on the fortress walls. Huge crossbows manned by several soldiers, these devices hurled massive spears like an arrow from a bow. Although cumbersome and slow to reload, these weapons could hold a choke point unlike any other.
The first oni in line took a spear the size of a man’s leg through the stomach.
Black blood shot out its back, spraying the ground and those behind the oni. The creature stumbled and hit the ground, but miraculously pushed itself to its feet before a second bolt took it in the shoulder, spinning the oni about and sending the creature careening over the mountainside. It howled before it hit the rocks, its neck snapping under its own gargantuan weight.
The oni behind never paused.
Two bolts that would have killed a dozen men and stopped the assault did nothing but slow the oni by a single body length. They continued charging upwards, eating up the distance faster than the ballistae atop the next gate could reload. Two more bolts shot out, as well as four more from up top that rained down. Another oni was impaled and knocked over, taking a third with him, but not every spear hit, and suddenly the next gate was under assault and fared no better than the first.
Oni hands reached up as high as the wall and grabbed screaming, crying men, who were then flung carelessly into the mountain air or otherwise decapitated in a single, bloodthirsty bite. The doors, so carefully barricaded with iron, locks, and bars were wrenched apart by a level of strength they were never intended to endure.
The second gate collapsed. The oni charged on. Takeo continued his calm walk up the mountainside. Below, the Hanu army finally understood what was happening, and a great cheer rose from the ground, followed by a horn to join the battle. A sea of red troops began to flood up the pathway in Takeo’s wake.
The next gate fared better. The journey up the mountain took time, even at the relentless pace the oni set, and all that time meant countless projectiles and defenses could be utilized. Two oni went down to arrows, the combined volleys of tiny shafts so covered their carcasses that one could barely see red skin beneath the brown wood and black blood
oozing out from countless holes. Three more oni were taken down by ballistae, though each one took two or more direct hits to bring down. A narrowed part of the path had been rigged to collapse, taking one oni with it, and would have stopped a human assault in its tracks. The surviving oni merely leapt the gap in massive bounds and continued their rampage.
The third gate was smashed to pieces. Not a single defending soldier was spared.
Only the fortress remained now. Just one more wall, one more set of doors, and the famous Nguyen keep would crumble. The defenders saved their best defense for last.
Before the path could widen, it narrowed at one final part between two rock walls. As the oni charged through the slot, a hidden boulder was released—hewed smooth as a child’s ball and large as a komainu. It hit the sloped ground and rolled toward the gap, picking up momentum with its immense weight. It struck one of the two rock walls and ricocheted off, spitting dust and pebbles as it tumbled toward the oni.
They were trapped. Nowhere to run. Had they been human, this would have been a death sentence.
The oni horde roared and charged the boulder, striking and piling into it with one body after another. The lead oni was crushed, its foot catching under the boulder before the creature got rolled over. The sound of its bones snapping in quick succession rose higher than its own screams. Yet the boulder slowed as it mounted this mound of flesh, and the rest of the oni put up enough resistance to bring the boulder to a stop.
“Push!” roared Tokhta from the back.
The oni heaved, and with their combined weight and strength, began to make headway again. The Nguyen fortress was a bedlam of horns and shouts as the defenders loosed every arrow and ballista round in their arsenal, but it was all for nothing. The boulder, once their greatest and most secret weapon, became their downfall. The mass of stone shielded the oni as they pushed it up the hill, spears and arrows deflecting off its massive girth like feathers thrown against armor. The oni chanted, pushing and ramming until the boulder was rolling upwards faster than it had fallen in the first place. They rolled it all the way up to the fortress walls, letting the rock’s momentum crash itself into the heavy, barred gates.
The walls here were twice as tall and thick as those of the previous three barriers, and the gate was far sturdier. The boulder bounced off without so much as scratching it. The defenders’ weapons finally had a clear line of sight, but the oni did not stand around to get shot at. The first few hit the wall and stood against the stone, while the second line climbed onto their fellows. The reach of the oni doubled, and the walls were breached in seconds. The oni kept switching and climbing one another until only one was left below, and then that one was hauled up by grabbing the hanging weapons of his fellows.
Set loose inside the fortress, the remaining oni set to work, using the narrowed walls and corridors to prevent the numerically superior defenders from flanking them. Carnage ensued, and the Nguyen fortress was filled with the sounds of human screams, snapping bones, and oni laughter.
By the time Takeo’s strolling pace brought him to the mountain’s crest, the gate was open, and the fortress was his.
Chapter 15
No one was spared.
As Tokhta pointed out, half the oni had died to this attack, which meant that in order for them to be revived, their killers either had to die or kill someone else of great importance. As the second option was out of the question, only the first was reasonable. As Tokhta explained, since it was impossible to know which human delivered the killing the blow to an oni, it would be prudent to slay all the humans just to be sure. That way, the oni army could be revived to full strength, ready to serve their newfound lord.
Takeo agreed.
Though, he did have his own motivations. Firstly, he had to send a message. No quarter given would let his enemies know that they chose the wrong side. His reputation as ruthless and unstoppable was under siege, and this was exactly the type of response needed to stamp out the threat. He still had two more fortresses to fell, so he let it be known that Lord Takeo Karaoshi did not capture the Nguyen throne; he crushed it.
Secondly, more importantly, this entire fortress had sealed its fate when it decided to harbor a rakshasa. Crippled as Qadir was, Takeo would never chance that shape-shifting monstrosity escaping. In every humanoid-shaped creature, Takeo saw a potential disguise for the rakshasa, so every soul needed to be put to the sword. Mercy could not be shown to a foe like this.
And thirdly, just as necessary, Lord Xianliang Nguyen could not be allowed to escape. Like any daimyo, he would have an escape tunnel as a last resort. Such plans were difficult to pull off, as they required the assaulting forces to be delayed, picking over the prisoners, while giving the fleeing lord or lady—and their family—time to escape. Takeo would avoid this issue by taking no prisoners, rushing through the stone hallways and laying everyone to waste. In the rapidity of the oni charge, it was almost certain Xianliang would be captured or killed. If the former, then he could be paraded out into the courtyard for a public execution at Takeo’s hands. His body would be dismembered and sent to all the corners of Juatwa, informing friend and foe alike that fate was on Takeo’s side.
Unfortunately, not everything went according to plan.
In Kuniko’s absence, the post victory slaughter took a fractured path to completion. Although the oni knew what to do, they were too large to fit into some of the places inside the fortress itself, so normal human soldiers had to be used. Those half-dozen or so commanders who normally reported directly to Kuniko now struggled to get their orders from Takeo, not having worked directly with their lord in some time. Their general ordered everyone be killed, but they delayed as they argued among themselves who was going to take which section of the fortress until Takeo snapped and began ordering individual soldiers regardless of rank, order, or regiment. Inefficient though it was, the task was finally carried out, minus some incomprehensible questioning of whether Takeo truly meant he wanted to kill every single person.
Yes. Yes, he did. And the next person to ask that question would be added to the list.
The scene grew violent between the screams and blood, oni bodies bursting from corpses, and fires starting about the place. Takeo’s eyes narrowed but his stance remained firm as his army set about the gruesome but necessary task.
All the while, he waited for news of the rakshasa and the daimyo.
His soldiers found Xianliang first, or rather, what was left of him. The quick verbal report stated the lord was a bloody, mangled mess upon the Nguyen throne, hardly discernible. Interestingly, a lone man was chained to the foot of the throne. He’d given his name, but somehow the soldier had forgotten it already. In fact, he couldn’t even recall what the man looked like.
Takeo went there immediately.
Aiguo Mein was that man, and he lay a shadow of his former self, chained at the ankle to the stone floor beneath the Nguyen throne. He was naked save for a shred of Xianliang’s torn kimono, which he used to cover his most vulnerable parts. On his hands and knees, Aiguo shook in tiny, horrified movements, his skin turning stark pale, save for those parts of him that were covered in blood.
None of it was his, though.
Aiguo’s body was completely untouched except for a bruise at the wrist and another at his ankle, where the shackle clamped down mercilessly. The blood that covered Aiguo from head to toe also covered the Nguyen throne, the floor around it, the walls that were close by, and even bits of the ceiling.
The scene was a nightmare to look at. Pools of blood still lay untouched, save for the severed body parts that filled them. Fingers, toes, a chunk of forearm here, an ear there, a quartered chest here—the intent was clear. Xianliang had been butchered to a point beyond recognition. In fact, the only reason the body had been identified at all was because someone had taken the time to collect the mutilated parts of the lord’s face and piece them back together on the throne. What was left of the head now looked like a gruesome patchwork of blood and bones, and
Takeo had to admit even he couldn’t be sure what remained was Xianliang.
The throne was eerily quiet as Takeo and a handful of his soldiers surveyed the scene.
“My, my lord,” Aiguo stuttered.
Takeo held up one finger, directing Aiguo to silence. He was obeyed. Takeo then reached his arm back towards one of his soldiers, and the intent was understood. A katana passed into Takeo’s hand.
“Well now,” Takeo said, taking a step forward. “What does this look like? Let me guess. You went scampering back to Qadir, hoping he’d take you back. Instead, he sees the writing on the wall, slaughters Xianliang, and leaves you behind. What is this? A peace offering? Does he hope that by abandoning the fight, killing Xianliang, and leaving you here for me, that I’ll somehow let him go? How did he get out of here anyway? I cut off his limbs for a reason.”
A muffled cry escaped Aiguo’s lips. His quivering intensified, and he could not find the strength to look up from the bloody stone floor.
“I, I,” Aiguo started, stopping several times, then summoned the courage to speak normally. “I wish that were the truth, my lord. I really, really do.”
“The truth hardly matters at this point,” Takeo went on. “It is as you predicted: I have won. All that’s left now is to sweep up the remnants. Seiji will be easy to slaughter now in that lone tower of his. In-Su may still be a problem in the Ngo fortress on that plateau, but I’ll crack that place open soon enough. I’ll find Qadir, wherever he went, and the ninjas will be dealt with eventually. As for you and I, we had a deal, remember? You were to make yourself useful to me, and I was to spare your life. I must say I’m not surprised to find you’ve broken our agreement so soon.”
Aiguo whimpered and clasped his hands to beg.
“Please, my lord, please! You have to believe me, that’s exactly why I’m here. I was trying to obey you, honestly. I was tricked, I swear. It was all a trick!”