The morning mist clung to the valley like a silken veil, cool and damp against the skin. Crows circled above, their cries sharp and foreboding, as if they too sensed the blood soon to be spilled.
From the ridge overlooking the valley road, Eugene crouched behind a line of brush, eyes fixed on the approaching Ishikawa column. Four hundred men marched in disciplined formation—armored spearmen at the front, archers scattered among them, with a rear guard of mounted samurai. Their banners, marked with the black-and-gold crest of the Ishikawa clan, rippled in the morning breeze.
To most, they would seem an unstoppable tide of steel. But to Eugene, they were prey already walking into his jaws.
[Enemy strength: 397. Takeda forces: 512. Terrain advantage: significant. Probability of victory with minimal losses: 83%. Recommended strategy: trigger trap once enemy vanguard crosses third marker. Coordinate flanking units simultaneously.]
"Patience," Eugene murmured under his breath. "Let them walk deeper."
Beside him, Hiroshi's grip tightened on his spear. "My lord, the men grow restless. They want to strike."
Eugene's lips curved in a faint smile. "Then let them wait a little longer. Desire without timing is just wasted blood."
The AI flickered quietly, confirming his thought.
[Correct. Optimal engagement point in 127 meters.]
The Ishikawa vanguard advanced, their boots crunching against gravel, unaware of the pits dug beneath the earth just ahead.
Eugene raised his hand, signaling silence. The Takeda soldiers hidden among the trees and behind rocky outcroppings held their breath, their bows strung and spears ready. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Step by step, the enemy entered the killing ground.
Eugene lowered his hand sharply. "Now."
The signal drum thundered once, deep and resounding.
The ground betrayed the Ishikawa. The first ranks stumbled into concealed pits, screams tearing from their throats as sharpened stakes skewered legs and torsos. Horses whinnied in panic, throwing riders as they collapsed into hidden ditches. Chaos rippled through the column.
"Loose!" Eugene commanded.
From the ridges, hundreds of arrows hissed through the air like angry hornets. They fell upon the tangled enemy ranks, piercing armor, splitting throats, driving men to the ground in sprays of crimson.
The Ishikawa formation shattered instantly.
"Ambush! It's an ambush!" panicked voices rose.
Before the enemy could regroup, Eugene's voice cut through the chaos. "Flankers—strike!"
From both sides of the valley, Takeda spearmen and swordsmen surged forward, their war cries echoing. The enemy, trapped between arrow fire and charging soldiers, broke into disorder.
Eugene drew his katana, the steel gleaming silver in the morning sun. The familiar hum of the AI sharpened his senses.
[Threat detected: enemy cavalry preparing counter-charge on left flank. Distance: 84 meters. Probability of breakthrough if unchecked: 67%. Recommended action: intercept with spear units, supported by direct leadership.]
"Hiroshi!" Eugene barked, pointing with his blade. "With me! To the left flank!"
The spearman's eyes lit with determination. "At once, my lord!"
They sprinted down the ridge, Eugene's boots pounding the earth. The sight of their young commander charging forward ignited the soldiers' morale like wildfire. Cheers rose as men surged behind him.
The enemy cavalry thundered closer, lances poised to shatter the Takeda flank.
Eugene's AI calculated swiftly:
[Enemy formation: wedge. Weak point: rider on far left. Suggestion: disrupt lead horse, collapse momentum.]
Eugene lowered himself, body steady. In one fluid motion, he hurled his spear—not the weapon of choice for most samurai, but one he had mastered in training.
The spear whistled through the air and struck true. It buried itself into the leg of the lead horse, sending the beast crashing down in a tangle of limbs and shrieking panic.
The wedge collapsed. Horses stumbled, riders thrown, their momentum destroyed.
"Forward!" Eugene roared, katana flashing as he led the charge.
He cut through the dismounted riders with lethal precision, his blade dancing in arcs of crimson. Every strike was deliberate, every movement efficient—a samurai guided not only by instinct but by a mind sharpened with knowledge of countless wars.
Behind him, Hiroshi's spear pierced through another cavalryman's chest. "The flank holds!" he shouted.
Meanwhile, the valley floor had become a slaughterhouse. Trapped between Takeda forces and their own dead, the Ishikawa soldiers fought desperately, but every attempt at regrouping was shattered by volleys of arrows and coordinated strikes.
Eugene's commands rang clear over the din of battle.
"Archers, adjust fire—target the rear guard!""Spearmen, hold formation—don't let them break through!""Push forward, but don't overextend! Kill smart, not blind!"
[Unit efficiency: 76% → 89%. Casualty rate: minimal. Enemy morale collapsing.]
Blood soaked the earth, screams mixing with the clash of steel. And through it all, Eugene's eyes remained sharp, calm, calculating.
For him, this was no mere chaos—it was a living board, every piece moving as he directed. The enemy's desperation was only another opening to exploit.
At last, as the sun climbed higher, the Ishikawa line broke completely. Men fled into the woods, discarding weapons and banners alike.
"Do not pursue too far!" Eugene commanded. "Cut down those who resist, but let the cowards run. Their shame will spread faster than our blades."
His men obeyed, driving the remnants into retreat. The valley fell silent, save for the groans of the dying and the crackle of fire from broken carts.
Eugene stood amidst the carnage, chest rising and falling, his katana dripping red. Around him, Takeda soldiers cheered, raising their weapons high.
"Victory! Victory for the Takeda! For Lord Eugene!"
The young commander sheathed his blade slowly, his face composed though his heart thundered with adrenaline.
[Battle outcome: Takeda forces—23 casualties. Ishikawa forces—289 casualties, 67 captured. Tactical victory: decisive.]
The AI's voice was calm, almost reverent.
[Evaluation: Command performance exceeds expectations. Morale of unit increased significantly. Probability of soldiers' loyalty to Eugene as commander: 91%.]
Eugene allowed himself a small smile. His first true battle—and he had not only survived, but triumphed.
Later, as the wounded were tended to and the dead honored, Hiroshi approached, his armor stained with blood, his eyes shining with fierce loyalty.
"My lord," he said, bowing deeply, "today, you were not merely the son of Takeda. You were our general. The men will follow you anywhere."
Eugene placed a hand on Hiroshi's shoulder. "Then I'll lead them somewhere worth following."
He looked across the valley, where the enemy dead lay scattered like fallen leaves. For most, this would be the end of the day's work. For Eugene, it was only the beginning.
The AI's whisper was soft, but full of promise.
[Trajectory confirmed. This is the first step toward unification. First blood has been spilled—and it shall not be the last.]
Eugene lifted his gaze to the horizon, where cherry blossoms would one day fall upon a land united under his rule.
"This is only the start," he murmured. "Japan will remember my name."
And as the smoke of battle rose into the sky, the legend of Takeda Eugene—the prodigy reborn, the genius samurai—was born in blood.