The valley slept beneath a shroud of fog, torches guttering low as workers and soldiers lay in their crude barracks. Only the sound of the river broke the silence, its flow echoing against the cliff walls.
Eugene stood awake in the half-built watchtower, his eyes scanning the horizon. He trusted neither the fog nor the quiet—it was too heavy, too still.
The AI's voice whispered in his mind.
[Alert: anomalous movement detected. East ridge, 400 meters. Estimated force: 60 men. Banner concealed. Likely hostile.]
Eugene's lips curved. "So, Ishida finally moves."
Down in the barracks, Hiroshi stirred as Eugene entered. "My lord?"
"Wake the Fifty Spears. Quietly. We have guests."
Hiroshi's eyes sharpened. "How many?"
"Enough to burn this place to ash if we let them. Tonight we remind Ishida why shadows cannot kill the sun."
Within minutes, the Spears assembled—armor donned in silence, spears gleaming faintly in the torchlight. Their discipline remained unshaken, even in secrecy. Around them, half-trained peasants and ronin recruits stirred nervously, unsure of what storm was coming.
Eugene raised a hand. "Stay silent. When the fire comes, do not panic. Let them think us prey. Then we become wolves."
The enemy struck at midnight.
Flaming arrows hissed from the ridge, arching into the valley. Thatched roofs caught fire, the night exploding in red and gold. Screams rose as peasants stumbled from their huts.
"Attack! Kill them all!" a voice bellowed from the darkness.
Warriors in black surged into the valley, blades gleaming, torches flung into stores of timber. Chaos swept the unfinished fortress.
But Eugene was ready.
"Form ranks!" he roared.
The Fifty Spears snapped into formation, a bristling wall of steel. Behind them, Eugene drew his katana, its blade reflecting the flames.
The AI marked every hostile position, painting the battlefield in his mind.
[Hostiles: 62. Attack vector: flanking from west and direct charge from east. Weakness: overconfidence, scattered formation.]
"Spears forward! Break their line!"
The wedge drove forward, slamming into the raiders. The first wave shattered under disciplined thrusts, blood spraying across the snow-slick earth. Eugene himself cut down two men in a blur, his movements honed to perfection.
Hiroshi fought at his side, bellowing with every strike. "For Lord Eugene!"
The recruits, inspired, grabbed weapons and joined the fray, turning fear into fury.
But the enemy commander, hidden in the smoke, was no fool.
"Burn their stores! Cut off their food!" he roared. His men broke from the melee, rushing toward the hidden supply caves.
Eugene's eyes narrowed. "Hiroshi! Hold the line. I'll deal with them."
He sprinted through fire and shadow, the AI guiding his every step.
[Trajectory calculated. Three hostiles ahead. Engagement optimal if approached from left flank.]
Eugene struck like lightning. His blade flashed once, twice, thrice—three men fell, their torches extinguished in the dirt.
He reached the cave mouth, where five more raiders prepared to set the stores alight. Eugene hurled his short blade, striking one through the throat, then charged with his katana drawn.
The fight was savage, but his mastery was absolute. Within moments, all five lay dead at his feet. The grain was safe.
By the time Eugene returned, the battle was turning. The Fifty Spears had driven the raiders into the palisade, pinning them against their own fire. Screams filled the night as Eugene's men cut them down.
The enemy commander, realizing defeat, tried to flee on horseback. Eugene pursued.
Snow and ash whipped past as they raced through the valley. At the ridge's edge, Eugene leapt, his blade slashing downward. The horse reared, and the commander fell, Eugene's katana buried in his chest.
"Tell Ishida," Eugene whispered coldly, twisting the blade, "that fire cannot consume what is forged in shadow."
The man's last breath left in a mist of blood.
By dawn, the fortress still stood. Charred huts smoldered, but the stores remained untouched, the men alive.
Hiroshi approached Eugene, his armor blackened, face smeared with soot. "We lost twenty peasants, six ronin… but we held. The fortress lives."
Eugene sheathed his blade. His gaze swept across the valley—the wounded being tended, the Spears standing proud despite their exhaustion.
"This was a test," he said. "And we passed. Ishida sought to break us in the cradle, but all he has done… is strengthen us."
The AI confirmed:
[Casualties: 28. Enemy force destroyed: 60. Morale impact: survivors emboldened, loyalty increased. Fortress credibility established.]
Eugene clenched his fist. One more stone laid. One more step toward the throne. Let them come again. Each attack only sharpens my blade.
The rising sun broke through the smoke, casting golden light upon the valley. A fortress of shadows had survived its baptism of fire.
And soon, it would no longer hide in shadow at all.