The Satomi host dragged itself forward like a wounded beast. What had begun as a thunderous march of banners and drums was now a slow crawl of gaunt soldiers, their armor dulled by soot and hunger, their eyes hollow. Smoke rose endlessly from burned supply wagons, and the forests whispered with unseen enemies.
Lord Satomi Yoshihiro still rode tall at the head of his army, but behind him, whispers grew louder with each passing day.
In the Satomi command tent, three captains knelt before Yoshihiro, their faces pale.
"My lord," one began cautiously, "our food dwindles. At this pace, our men will starve before they reach Kai Fortress."
"Then march faster!" Yoshihiro snapped, his hand slamming against the table. "Every day we delay, that upstart boy fortifies further. We cannot let Eugene take root!"
Another captain exchanged a glance with his comrade, then spoke in a quieter voice. "But my lord… we have lost over a thousand already, and more desert each night. Morale is crumbling."
Yoshihiro's eyes blazed. "Cowards! If they desert, let them rot in the forest. We march!"
Yet as his rage echoed through the tent, one of the captains kept his head bowed, his mind not on Yoshihiro's fury—but on the whispered words of a spy who had slipped into his camp days before.
Eugene offers survival. He offers a place in his rising star. Follow Satomi, and you will find only ruin.
The seed had been planted.
Meanwhile, in the valley fortress, Eugene listened calmly as his spy returned with news. She knelt before him, her voice steady despite the exhaustion of her journey.
"My lord, the Satomi captains grow restless. They curse their lord behind his back, and some already seek a path to save themselves. I whispered your promise: that those who turn when the moment comes will be spared and rewarded."
Eugene's eyes gleamed with cold satisfaction. "Good. The bear is rotting from within."
Hiroshi frowned. "But can we trust them, my lord? Betrayers once may betray again."
Eugene's gaze was like steel. "So long as I remain strong, they will not dare. Men betray weakness, not power."
The AI pulsed in his thoughts:
[Probability of Satomi officer defection: 39% and rising. Critical threshold at 51% within 10 days. Recommend sustained pressure to accelerate collapse.]
Eugene nodded slightly. Then we bleed them further, until betrayal becomes their only hope.
That night, Eugene dispatched more ghost-warriors into the forests. Small units struck swiftly, burning Satomi food caches, scattering their foragers, and sniping commanders from the shadows. The Spears of the Crescent Moon became phantoms, vanishing before Satomi soldiers could rally.
Each ambush was a whisper to the wavering captains: Your lord cannot protect you. But Eugene can.
In the Satomi camp, one such captain sat by the fire, staring into the flames. He had once marched proudly beneath Satomi's banners, but now his men muttered in fear, their stomachs hollow, their armor rusting from lack of care.
How much longer can we march like this? he thought bitterly. How much longer before we are not an army, but carrion for crows?
Then, like a shadow, the spy appeared at the edge of the firelight. She bowed slightly, her voice a soft whisper.
"Captain… the boy-lord waits. When the time comes, he will not forget those who choose wisely."
The captain said nothing, but his silence was not rejection.
The seed sprouted.
Back in Kai Fortress, Eugene stood atop the half-built battlements, the wind tugging at his robes. The valley stretched before him, dark forests hiding enemy soldiers who stumbled and starved.
Lady Aiko approached, her eyes narrowing as she studied his calm expression. "You pull them apart without lifting a blade. Soon, their captains will break away. But what then? Will you welcome traitors into your fold?"
Eugene did not turn, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I will use them. Loyalty is a tool, as is fear. Those who prove useful will live. Those who falter again will not."
Her lips curved into a faint smile. "Cold… but wise. Perhaps that is what sets you apart from the other lords of this age."
The AI whispered:
[Satomi army cohesion: weakening. Estimated collapse window: 8–12 days. Trigger event required to force large-scale betrayal. Suggest staging a false victory to embolden defectors.]
Eugene's hand tightened on his sword hilt.
Yes. One strike—sharp, precise—and the seeds I have planted will bloom in blood.
Far in the Satomi camp, as the night winds carried the stench of smoke and ash, the three captains gathered in secret. Their voices trembled with anger, fear, and something else—temptation.
"Yoshihiro leads us to ruin," one muttered. "Already, we starve. Already, the men desert."
Another hissed, glancing about. "I have heard whispers… Eugene offers salvation. Perhaps… perhaps his cause is stronger."
The third spat into the dirt but did not deny it. "If the boy truly rises, then maybe our only hope lies in him."
None of them noticed the spy's eyes gleaming in the dark, satisfied. The seeds of treachery had taken root.
And in his fortress, Eugene gazed eastward, his eyes like twin blades.
"Soon," he whispered. "The bear will not fall to my sword. It will fall to its own claws."
The wind carried the faint echo of Satomi drums—slower, weaker, almost mournful.
The time of betrayal was near.