A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

After Morohira came his peasants, screaming as ferociously as they were able, fear-stricken to the extreme. They paced inside the circle tightly, wildly jabbing with their spears, focusing on the hole forming at the opposite end, attempting to make their way through it, towards safety.

The seasoned Takeda warriors were without a doubt surprised by the strength of the sudden assault, but they were not unsettled for long. Even if it meant certain death, they would stand their ground.

From a distance, it was easy to tell which selection of men were causing the most damage, with Morohira, Sasaki and Rokkaku being amongst them. Takeda’s Generals reacted quickly to null these volatile forces and attempt to ease their casualties.

"Reinforce the circle! Anayama, Hara, tie-down those other two, I’ll take their General." Akiyama Nobutomo – Shingen’s trustworthy second in command – went into action immediately. "Ichigo, begin harassing their back ranks with the cavalry – we don’t want them all piling through at once!"

The Generals took his orders as if they had been delivered from the mouth of their Daimyo himself and immediately drove their heels into the sides of their horses, carrying out the fulfilment of their instructions.

The small fraction of light that the Miura soldiers had focused on was soon blocked out as a hefty pile of soldiers came to fulfil the place of the deceased. They stepped over the bodies of their dead comrades without a signal glance of acknowledgement.

Morohira frowned with irritation, seeing the results of his hard work vanish so quickly. With renewed vigour, he shot off from his back foot, about to barrel through the new wall of soldiers. It was the fearsome length of a katana that blocked his advancement.

In his path, there sat Akiyama, the raging bull of Takeda. With his wild hair and the scruffy stubble of his beard, he looked more like a ronin that had spent the last few years of his life on the road than he did the trusted Grand General of Shingen. "That is as far as you go, brute. Simple force will not suffice."

Seeing him preach so arrogantly from the back of his horse, Sasaki and Rokkaku ended the lives of the men in front of them faster than they otherwise might, in a brutal race to see who could spear this mouthy General first.

But their paths were blocked too, by another pair of mounted men. The fat-faced Anayama squared off against Sasaki, lowering the blade of his naginata down in front of him, the hairs of his thick moustache twitching wildly. "Wait your turn, dog. It is I who will be your opponent."

Rokkaku found his opposition in the well-groomed Hara, looking in disgust at his thin moustache and perfectly shaped goatee. "I have no words for the damned." He murmured quietly by way of challenge.

With this prestigious trio blocking their way, the three men were forced to pause. They shared a look with one another, furrowing their eyebrows and twisting their lips. It was a look that one expressed when they truly did not understand what had just occurred. After seeing their strength, these men still thought themselves capable of stepping up and making them pause for even a second? It seemed ridiculous, to the point where they had to physically restrain themselves from laughing.

Morohira shook his head, chuckling. This would not take too long, he was sure. There was only one man capable of slowing him and that man was his own son. He jumped into the air, drawing level with his mounted opponent, crashing down with one of his katana at lightning speed before slamming through with the other.

In response, Akiyama observed him calmly before announcing his verdict. "You certainly are strong..." He brought up his sword to meet them, favouring a more traditional style of swordsmanship. "However, you are no master swordsman." He caught both of Morohira’s strikes on the length his blade, blocking them without giving a single inch.

The zealous General was sent falling back into the mud, shocked by the strength of his defence. A similar story was unfolding for Rokkaku and Sasaki as well. The strikes that they placed so much faith in barely seemed to faze their opponents.

It was not just a case of winning the duels they had been forced to engage in, it was about doing it quickly. With every second that passed, the walls were closing in on them more and more. Their peasant allies were falling like flies. Against the Takeda veterans, they had no answer. Some of them even attempted to flee.

It was not just the peasants either. The elite were slowly being whittled down as well, unable to deal with the hundreds of stinging thrusts that came from every direction. Breaking through would be far harder than they thought.

Elsewhere, Akiyama’s other order was being carried out. A stream of a thousand cavalrymen sprinted down the length of the Extending Snake column, picking at weaknesses and slowly thinning their numbers.

The bow samurai were finding success with carefully placed volleys too. It truly was a race against time. They almost had no answer. Jikouji and Togashi had their men fire volley after volley upon the reinforcements, but their effect was lower than it ought to have been and they were quickly running out of ammunition.

"Well..." Shingen admired the battlefield with satisfaction, seeing his Right Hand organise the flow of battle in accordance with his plans. "What will you do, Matsudaira? Any plans, Miura?"

Of course, as the fate of the damned would have it, that was when Nobunaga found his way to the edge of the battlefield, bearing witness to the pitiful sight. Even if he were to bring the thousand cavalrymen that he had brought into the mix, there was no clear path to victory. Disappointment was the only emotion he felt.

"We will wait, just to make sure." He announced, fighting against the urge to turn back immediately.

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