The valley fortress was alive with energy. Walls gleamed with fresh lacquer, gates bristled with spikes, and drills thundered in the courtyards until dusk. Yet amidst the hammering and chants of soldiers, a tension hung like mist over the mountains.
The Satomi had begun to stir.
Reports arrived daily—scouts sighting Satomi banners along the eastern border, whispers of armies gathering in the forests, peasants fleeing ahead of soldiers who demanded food and shelter. Ishida's words had taken root in Satomi's ears, and their war drums now echoed across the valleys.
Eugene sat in his war council chamber, the map spread wide before him. Hiroshi, Captain Masanori, and Lady Aiko flanked him, their faces grim.
"The Satomi muster ten thousand spears," Masanori reported. "If they march, they will aim for our eastern pass. Once they control it, they can choke our fortress from all sides."
"Imagawa will not fight them directly," Hiroshi added. "At best, they will stall. And the Hojo… they wait to see if we are worth betting on."
Lady Aiko's voice was quiet, but sharp as any blade. "If Satomi falls upon us now, even your Spears will bleed heavily. We cannot outmatch their numbers in a straight field."
Eugene tapped the map, his eyes calm.
"Which is why we will not fight them in a straight field."
The AI hummed in his skull, projecting patterns across his vision: valleys, rivers, choke points.
[Satomi supply lines vulnerable. Main weakness: long marches through dense forests. High probability of ambush success. Recommend strategy: cut their supplies, strike in shadows, force starvation before direct battle.]
Eugene leaned back, lips curving faintly.
"The Satomi are powerful, but they are heavy. Their army moves like a bear—strong, but slow. We will bleed the bear before it ever reaches our gates."
That night, orders whispered across the fortress like sparks in dry grass.
Units of Spears stripped their armor to move silently through the forests.
Villagers guided them along hidden paths only locals knew.
At choke points, pits were dug, logs prepared, and oil barrels buried beneath leaves.
By dawn, the eastern woods were no longer Satomi's hunting ground. They had become Eugene's trap.
Days later, the Satomi army began its march.
From the trees, Eugene's men watched them—an endless tide of banners, armor clanking, drums echoing. At first, the Satomi advanced easily. But soon, food wagons went missing. Water barrels were found split and drained. Scouts failed to return.
Then came the ambushes.
At the first valley crossing, boulders thundered down from the cliffs, crushing the vanguard. Arrows hissed from the trees, striking officers before they could rally. Spears jabbed from the underbrush, then vanished like ghosts.
At the second pass, fire erupted. Oil-soaked logs rolled down the slopes, igniting supply carts in a roaring inferno. Soldiers screamed, smoke choking the air as chaos ripped through the ranks.
Every step forward cost Satomi blood.
Lord Satomi Yoshihiro himself rode at the center of his host, his face red with fury.
"Cowards!" he roared. "They strike and flee, like foxes in the dark! Where is their honor?"
But his generals whispered among themselves, their eyes uneasy.
"These are no mere foxes, my lord. They fight like wolves—wounding us, then vanishing. If we continue at this pace, our men will starve before we reach their walls."
Yoshihiro slammed his fist on his saddle. "Then we march faster! I will crush this boy warlord and hang his head from my gates!"
But even as he raged, another fire bloomed on the horizon—his rear guard's supplies going up in flames.
Back in the fortress, Eugene received the scouts' reports calmly.
"Satomi losses: three hundred dead, nearly a thousand scattered, food stores burned," Hiroshi relayed. "Their morale falters."
Lady Aiko's eyes gleamed. "You bleed them without ever risking a full clash. Already, Satomi's strength weakens."
Eugene's voice was quiet, steady. "We are not ready to meet them in open battle yet. Let them starve, let them rage. When the bear stumbles, that is when the wolf strikes."
The AI whispered:
[Satomi morale: dropping. Estimated desertion within 12 days. Enemy command cohesion weakening. Opportunity to trigger betrayal within Satomi ranks detected.]
Eugene's eyes narrowed. Betrayal… yes. The quickest way to kill an army is to tear out its heart from within.
That night, he summoned one of his most trusted spies—a woman who had once served as a maid in Satomi's household, now sworn to Eugene's cause.
"You will return to Satomi's camp," Eugene said softly. "Whisper to their officers that their lord leads them to ruin. Offer them a choice: when the moment comes, turn their banners to me, and their lives—and power—will be spared."
The spy bowed low, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of danger. "As you command, my lord."
As the spy vanished into the night, Hiroshi asked, voice tense, "My lord… do you truly believe Satomi's men would betray their own?"
Eugene's gaze was cold as the mountain wind.
"Men do not betray out of hatred. They betray out of survival. Satomi will bleed them dry for pride. I will offer them a future. Which do you think they will choose?"
Hiroshi bowed his head. "Then soon, the bear will find its own claws turned against it."
Eugene turned toward the eastern horizon, where smoke still rose from Satomi's burning supply lines.
"Yes," he murmured. "And when it does, Ishida's proud alliance will begin to rot from the inside."
The wind carried the distant sound of Satomi drums—slower now, weaker.
Shadows had fallen over Satomi. And Eugene was the hand guiding them.