The sun rises and falls, celebrations and dances all turn into red hummingbirds, etched into people's hearts. After the blood-red ritual, it is a night both hot and quiet. Hot are the warriors of the Kingdom, and the warriors of the Shandan and Jurchen. Quiet are the Japanese captives and the Ainu tribes. This dynamic and static coexist like the sun and moon reflecting each other, yet who knows what such an integration of bloodlines will create in the future, perhaps a Gummy People Tribal Group?
"May the Chief Divine protect us! Let's do it like this! All tribes are to conscript five hundred tribespeople for me, and I will distribute weapons based on the numbers to each tribe. For every twenty people, you will receive a suit of Japanese iron armor! Hmm... The faster, the better, so they can reach the Kutadai Peninsula sooner, avoiding consuming your winter provisions."
"At your command, Great Chief!"
"Yes! Brother-in-law... cough... Great Chief!..."
