by DB King
Everything had been steadily going his way, thus far. Even Yojimbo’s band of misfits, once a nuisance, was now serving under him as a guerilla army-in-training, though there was still plenty of training for them to do before he could throw them at an army. They were, however, surprisingly easy to teach. The former bandits, honed by a lifetime in the woods, foraging and surviving without the need for civilization, were quick to grasp at the concepts of shadow warfare, attacking in unseen ambushes, sabotaging, and even assassinations. In time, Yojimbo’s band would become a great boon to the defense of Hirata and its continued prosperity.
Jin shook his head and found himself standing just outside the administrative building, where his office stood—empty. Speaking of teaching, I believe it’s time for Ebisu to harvest his first beast core…
War was on the horizon. Weakness would not be cultivated—not on Jin’s watch. Every villager would be trained to fight and defend themselves—even the women and children. Ebisu would be no different. With the boy’s aptitude for the arcane, he would surely be an asset in the war to come—and in the battles that would rage on for years later.
Moyatani would soon drown in an unstoppable tide of blood and gore.
Chapter 2
“You never met your mother?”
Jin shook his head as he reached forward and grabbed a flat, small, circular disk upon whose surface was emblazoned the word bushi. In front of him lay a square wooden table, outlined with 100 square tiles—ten rows and ten columns. Jin took the bushi piece and placed it atop a spearman piece, before shoving it forward a single tile, placing it near his enemy’s spearman piece.
Yojimbo grumbled something inaudible as he pulled back his spearman piece, while bringing his archer piece a few tiles to the side, allowing the ranged units to screen his retreat. Jin responded by pushing two cavalry pieces forward, immediately eliminating Yojimbo’s archers. The foreigner gritted his teeth.
“Not really—she died soon after I was born. My father, Hamada, raised me by himself—or, at least, as much as a man could, while managing his own fief,” Jin answered, leaning back and waiting for his opponent’s turn. “I never really asked much about her, either. I really didn’t find her too interesting or important. Father once mentioned that she was fond of gardening and calligraphy, but that’s really all I know. Why do you ask?”
Yojimbo’s grimace shifted as he put forward another spearman tile to engage Jin’s cavalry. “You just have this distant look in your eyes sometimes. It’s the look of someone who’s lost someone or something terribly important to them. I had simply thought it might’ve been your mother.”
Jin smiled. He had lost… a lot of people who mattered to him—his mother, at least the one from his previous life, was just one of them. There were friends and comrades, lovers and mentors, many of whom he’d lost in the many adventures and journeys he’d taken. Heartbreak after heartbreak after heartbreak and still he pressed onward for their dream—for the betterment of the world. And, at the end, the last of his friends betrayed him.
Then again, he had it coming. After all, he was the first to betray them. After all, he had corrupted their dream. He had become a tyrant after everything—after every tyrant they’d brought down and defeated, he had become one himself.
His eyes must’ve betrayed him as well.
Yojimbo saw it.
“I have lost… people. I’ve no wish to speak of it.” Jin pulled back a single cavalry piece and lost the other to Yojimbo’s spearman piece. He followed up by pushing his bushi and spearman pieces forward. He eyed the board for a moment. No one had the upper hand. Whilst he was certainly struggling, Yojimbo had proven to be a masterful player and strategist—at least, in the game of Junggi. “Life… tends to throw rocks at us as we climb it.”
Yojimbo raised an eyebrow, but otherwise stayed quiet. The foreigner’s eyes scanned the board for a moment. “You’ve spoken like a true grandfather, mage. This childlike illusion of yours is magnificent, but your words betray your true age. You sound old and tired—like a war veteran who’s seen far too much for his years… And there goes your bushi.”
Jin’s eyes widened as he loomed over the board, frantically scanning and reviewing every little detail in his head. He wanted to lure in my bushi, using his spearman, he thought. Without a cavalry screen, he was able to overwhelm my bushi and spearman pieces simultaneously by using three archer pieces. But I never would’ve missed that if he hadn’t sacrificed his own bushi earlier.
Jin sighed and leaned back. “That was… incredibly risky. If I hadn’t fallen for your initial pattern, that little maneuver just now could’ve easily cost you the whole game. Still… well played. Junggi’s quite a complex game.”
“You talk as though you’re already defeated, when all I did was even out the playing field—if anything, we’re now back at square one.” Yojimbo chuckled, taking out two fine porcelain cups and filling them with premium sake—from Hirata’s stock. Jin recognized it as one of the many premium rice wines they exported all over Moyatani—not quite as good as the premiums from the southern provinces, but theirs was far cheaper and easier to manufacture. Yojimbo was apparently enjoying his free stocks. “Still, you claim to have never played this game before and here I see you excelling at it after only two games. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you were a prodigy, but we both know I’d be wrong.”
Jin shrugged. Yojimbo was likely the most interesting man he’d ever met in his entire life—at least, in this life. “I’ve played something similar in the past. The pieces are a bit different, but the rules and objectives are more or less the same. Though, given your apparent experience in playing the game, I’d say it’s quite unfair—for now.”
Yojimbo raised a single eyebrow. “Unfair? You almost beat me just now. If you were any more familiar with the rules and the moves of every piece, you’d have easily seen through that ruse.”
Jin nodded and leaned forward. His eyes scanned the board. True enough, all Yojimbo did was even out the playing field. In essence, both of them had been robbed of their strongest weapons and would now have to continue the battle with only their fists.
In Junggi, the role of the bushi was that of a one-hit kill weapon. It could instantly kill any other piece as long as it was within a single-tile distance. Cavalry pieces could leap across a single tile if alone, but could leap across two tiles if two pieces were stacked on top of each other. However, the only pieces they could instantly eliminate were archer pieces. Spearman and swordsman pieces would take two or more attack moves to destroy, but both pieces were more than capable of counterattacking, especially the spearman pieces, which could negate the damage of a cavalry piece by simply facing in its direction. Archer units could attack from four tiles away, but could never kill anything in a single attack, unless every single archer piece was attacking a single piece. Each player would have a Daimyo, which could not move and died instantly to every attack, but could be assigned on any tile on a player’s side at the beginning of the game, which was made up of two rows. After the Daimyo was the bushi, which always started the game standing right next to the Daimyo, either front, back, or side. There were four archer pieces for each player, alongside two cavalry pieces with six spearman and swordsman pieces. Twenty pieces for each player, with thousands upon thousands of tactics and combinations available to both. The game often lasted hours as victories and defeats were overturned and two minds toiled to foil each other in an incredibly complex game.
Whoever lost their Daimyo first lost the game.
Jin only had his Daimyo, a single cavalry piece, three archers, two swordsman pieces, and three spearmen. Yojimbo had his Daimyo, four archers, three swordsman pieces, and two spearmen. Jin’s only advantage lay in his cavalry piece, while Yojimbo had strength in numbers.
The foreigner had already beaten him twice. Both defeats happened due to his own ignorance of the game—to be fair, both Ebisu and Arima had invited him numerous times to play with them, but he’d
refused each time as he really didn’t see it as important. He’d also been taught its basics when he was a child, but he’d never really paid much attention to it, since it was just a game and he was more interested in getting more powerful. Playing it with Yojimbo, however, had been a great reminder of the simpler delights and enjoyments in life—namely: winning in something that didn’t involve combat or death.
Yojimbo had already beaten him twice. Both times happened due to his own inexperience in the game. Jin just had to beat the damn foreigner or he’d never get to sleep, knowing someone out there was actually capable of outwitting him in a game of tactics and strategy.
And so the game went on for the next three hours in Jin’s private army’s new hideout, a well-stocked, easily defendable, and practically invisible fort in the high mountains near Hirata. Already, Yojimbo’s band had swelled in size, numbering over a hundred men, each one hardened and toughened by a life in the wilderness. Jin’s relentless training in the art of guerilla warfare only strengthened them further, giving their skills direction and sharpness, honing their senses to be more akin to blades. They could now move undetected through woodlands, their bodies masked in suits that bore branches and leaves, their faces covered in dyes of black, brown, and green. Yojimbo brought them even further by utilizing his tactical genius. They’d since proven themselves to be a near-unstoppable fighting force, after cleaning out the other bandit bands near Hirata.
“And that’s your Daimyo!” Yojimbo laughed as he flicked away Jin’s Daimyo, cementing his victory. “You almost had me there, mage. If I had been a turn too late, you would’ve definitely won, but this is my victory.”
“You’ve… beaten me. I was even trying to win that time.” Jin’s shoulders sagged as he sighed and leaned back, absently grabbing a cup of sake and instantly gulping it down. It burned in his throat, like liquid fire, but it was also sweet and fragrant. He didn’t quite like it, but whiskey and brandy were yet to be discovered in Moyatani. Rice wine was good, but not quite as good as his personal choice of liquor. “Huh… you might be one of the very few people to ever beat me in a battle of wits. Congratulations.”
Yojimbo mock bowed and clapped for himself as he giggled in response to Jin’s words. The foreigner’s face was flushed red from the alcohol consumption, and yet his mind was as sharp as always. It had been Jin’s tactic to draw out the game as much as possible so that Yojimbo consumed more and more rice wine, but that plan didn’t really work out as well as he’d have liked. Still, the foreigner was one of the very few people with whom Jin didn’t mind conversing. He was, after all, an intellectual equal.
Yojimbo huffed and stared him dead in the eye. “So, what’s your plan?”
Jin raised an eyebrow. “You’ll have to be a little more specific.”
“A blind, deaf, mute could perceive the looming war on the horizon. I’d give it maybe four more months before this little cold stalemate breaks and all the clans start killing each other in droves.” Yojimbo’s tone was both somber and sober, his eyes looking outward to the dark clouds in the distance. “This little island-nation of yours will be drowned in blood. I’m not an idiot, mage. You’ve recruited my band and I to protect your town, but it’ll take a thousand miracles to save that place—no offense.”
Jin waved a hand. “None taken. Hirata’s not exactly a strategic location, that’s true. But it has grown on me, I suppose. It has been my home for many years and I do not want to see it burn. Already, I have begun the efforts to transform that burgeoning town into a fortress.”
“My plan,” Jin continued. “If it could even be called that, is to defend it with everything I have. Or, at the very least, ensure it’s not destroyed by passing armies and rogue warriors. There will be plenty of both in the years to come.”
“And what about after that?” Yojimbo raised an eyebrow and passed another cup of rice wine to Jin. “You and I both know this war for succession isn’t going to end—not really. You can defend your little village for the next fifty years and it’s not going to make a difference. Sooner or later, it’ll run out of resources and starve.”
“I know—but that’ll just have to be enough time for me to end this damn war myself.”
* * *
“Ebisu, you will now embark on one of the most crucial aspects to being a mage—the bonding with Magical Beasts,” Jin explained. He and the young Ebisu stood a few feet away from the tree line of the deep woods, where numerous Magical Beasts roamed. It was dangerous here, and they both knew it—well, Ebisu had an inkling, at the very least, and the boy was cautious enough not to run straight toward a powerful Magical Beast if they ever ran into one, which was honestly a rather distinct possibility. Huh… maybe this isn’t such a good idea. He’s only five years old and I can’t expect him to think the way I do.
Jin shook his head. Magical children of an age with Ebisu were thrown into barracks, given weapons, and told to march under constant arrow volleys in his previous world. He couldn’t afford to be lenient with his training of the boy. That said, Ebisu’s current level of strength was only barely passable in Jin’s eyes. He was certainly talented and strong, but the boy lacked a certain drive to seek power, which prevented him from becoming as powerful as he could be.
“We’re going to have to find something weak for you to try and bond with—preferably an infant creature of some sort. Fully-grown Magical Beasts are more likely to rip you apart at first sight. So, that means we’ll be spending a lot of time wandering the woods until we find one that’s suitable for you, alright?”
Jin paused and eyed Ebisu.
The boy nodded. “I understand, master. But may I ask you something?”
Jin raised an eyebrow. Ebisu usually never asked questions, which was why he could tolerate teaching him in the first place. “Ask.”
“How did you bond with your first Magical Beast?”
“Huh… hmm…” His first Magical Beast had been that Fire Salamander. Jin huffed and chuckled softly to himself. “It was… so very long ago. I was… about your age—maybe younger. I was meditating near a pond, trying to understand and focus my magical powers. The bushes rustled and this baby Fire Salamander just walked right out of it.”
“It was tiny and weak and injured. I reached out to it, and it just kind of bonded with me instantly.” Jin raised his left forearm to show the Fire Salamander—or, at least, it was a Fire Salamander up until the point it mutated into something else entirely with all the Beast Cores Jin had shoved into it. Now, it looked nothing like it once did. Now, it was a monstrous thing that resembled a gruesome dragon. “This used to be a Fire Salamander, but its power has grown far beyond what it was once capable of. Now, it’s something else entirely.”
“Is that how you’re able to shoot fire out your hands, master?” Ebisu asked, eyeing the tattoo on Jin’s left forearm.
Jin nodded. “Yes, offensive magic doesn’t seem to be possible without first bonding with some sort of Magical Beast. Even then, whatever offensive magic you attain is limited to the natural abilities of the Magical Beast you’ve bonded with. If, for example, you’ve bonded with a Frost Wolf, a creature that can create and manipulate ice crystals to a degree, then your offensive magic will revolve around the creation and manipulation of ice crystals, no matter how many Beast Cores you shove into it.”
“That said,” Jin continued. “What sort of abilities would you prefer to have?”
It really wasn’t a question for a five-year-old, but Ebisu was a mage and mages weren’t beholden to the same standards as normal humans. They were better, and they had to be better. He couldn’t coddle Ebisu the same way he might coddle another child—a lesser child.
Jin paused. A lesser child?
He looked out and gazed at the people of Hirata—his people. Were they truly lesser beings, just because they lacked magic? They toiled and worked hard to live every single day. And they laughed and cried and made merry amongst each other when night finally came. And yet they were feeble creatures—w
eak and prone to illness. They lacked any real means to defend themselves from powerful threats and were essentially living under the rule of the powerful—his rule, for Jin knew that he could kill every living thing in Hirata if he really wanted.
But were they lesser beings?
Was he greater for his possession of magical powers?
Well, Jin was definitely more powerful, but that didn’t really answer his own question, did it? “Huh… that’s something to think about…”
“Did you say something, master?”
“No,” Jin answered, shaking his head. Such ponderings were meant for private moments. “I was just thinking aloud.”
Chapter 3
A deathlike stillness met Jin and Ebisu as they entered the woods. The wind howled in their ears and brushed away great clouds of dust and dried leaves, and yet the trees themselves remained quiet. Each step forward sent out crackling echoes as twigs snapped beneath their feet. The cold earth whispered dark tunes, and haunting gusts of silence sang in their ears. There were eyes in the shadows—unseen things watching in the gaps between the trees. When Jin turned his eyes and his head, however, he saw nothing but ghosts and specters in the early-morning mists.
Jin crouched down and gestured for Ebisu to stop behind him. “Wait and listen. Do you hear that?”
Ebisu shook his head. “I don’t hear anything, master.”
They stood in a patch of forest that was filled with undergrowth, shrubs and bamboo sprouts, glowing roots and cold soil. The air was close here. The trees stood not far apart from each other. This part of the forest was ancient. It had remained untouched, even as Jin hunted down hundreds of Magical Beasts in the woods around Hirata. This place was farther and farther away from where he’d used to hunt, older and far quieter, miles and miles away from Hirata, saturated with ancient energies—similar to the ones in the far north.