Captain Jiro stood at the front of Minami Kyoto's defenders with his sword drawn, his armor scratched and streaked with blood that did not all belong to him.
Beyond the broken outer gate, Urakami's army filled the snow-covered road.
Men in layered armor pressed forward in dense ranks, their banners snapping in the bitter wind. Horsemen waited behind the first formation, reins pulled tight while their mounts stamped and snorted clouds of steam into the night. More soldiers kept appearing from the darkness beyond the gate, carrying ladders, shields, spears, bows, and talismans that flickered with hostile magic.
The earlier clash had not stopped them.
It had only slowed them down.
"Hold the line!" Jiro shouted.
His voice carried over the screaming wounded and the sound of weapons striking shields.
"Do not break formation! Spears forward! Archers, aim beyond the first rank! Do not waste arrows on their shields!"
The Minami Kyoto soldiers answered him with strained shouts.
