The sun broke over the valley with a brilliance that made the mist glow like molten gold. Beneath that light, a change had taken root. Where yesterday had stood an enemy host of Satomi banners, now there were only fragments: weary soldiers under white pennons, clusters of abandoned armor, wagons abandoned in ditches, and a thousand hungry men turning their faces not toward Yoshihiro, but toward Eugene's fortress.
From atop the half-built battlements, Eugene surveyed the scene like a strategist observing a chessboard in mid-collapse. His hands rested lightly on the railing, but his mind was sharp as tempered steel.
[Status report]: Estimated 1,800 Satomi defectors now under your provisional command. Remaining enemy cohesion fractured—commanders Inoue, Takayama, and Murata aligned to your banner. Yoshihiro retains only his personal guard and the most fanatical captains. Probability of total Satomi collapse within 5 days: 71%.
The AI's voice thrummed in his head, clinical and precise. Eugene allowed himself a single exhale of satisfaction. The "fire in the night" had achieved what brute force never could.
But this was not victory yet.
The enemy lord Yoshihiro still stood, and Ishida still pulled strings from the fortress of Kai. The bear was wounded, not slain.
—
In the fortress courtyard, the newly defected soldiers knelt in orderly rows. Some still wore the Satomi crest, hastily covered with cloth strips. Their eyes were wary—dogs beaten too many times to trust the outstretched hand fully.
Eugene strode before them, Hiroshi and Lady Aiko at his sides, while his loyal Spears watched from the walls. His voice rang across the courtyard, deep and steady.
"Men of Satomi. You have chosen life over death. For that, I welcome you."
Murmurs rippled. Some bowed deeply; others avoided his gaze.
"You will not be treated as slaves, nor as prisoners," Eugene continued. "You will be soldiers of a new order. A realm where loyalty is rewarded with land, food, and honor. But betrayal will be punished swiftly. This is my word."
Captain Inoue stepped forward, bowing low. His voice carried the weight of his men's doubts. "If you keep your promise, Lord Eugene, you will not regret taking us in. We were tired of Yoshihiro's arrogance, tired of starving for his pride."
Eugene studied the older man's face—a weathered visage carved by years of war. He nodded once. "Then stand, Captain Inoue. Stand as one of my commanders."
Inoue rose, and with him rose the morale of hundreds.
Lady Aiko leaned toward Eugene, her voice a quiet whisper. "You've bound them with words, but they will test you. If you cannot feed them, if you cannot protect them, they will waver again."
Eugene's lips curved into the faintest smile. "Then we will feed them, and protect them. And they will learn what true loyalty is."
—
The fortress kitchens became the new heart of Eugene's cause. Rice from hidden reserves was rationed carefully. The defectors, hollow-eyed from hunger, received hot meals under the watch of the Spears. The food was not abundant, but it was steady—enough to show Eugene's promise was more than air.
As the men ate, whispers spread. This boy-lord feeds us.This fortress shelters us.Perhaps here, we have a future.
Eugene moved among them, not as a distant noble but as a commander who listened, who knew their names, who asked about their wounds. It was not softness—it was calculation, but also conviction. Men followed those who saw them.
By evening, the defectors cheered when he passed.
The dawn of loyalty had begun.
—
Yet outside the fortress, the broken remnants of Yoshihiro's host limped toward Kai Fortress. Ragged and starved, they carried their wounded and cursed their lord's name in hushed tones. Yoshihiro himself rode at the center, eyes burning with rage.
When his scouts returned with news of defections, Yoshihiro roared in fury, slashing down one of his own men for speaking too slowly. His retainers flinched, but none dared intervene.
"Traitors! All of them!" Yoshihiro bellowed. "I will see them crucified!"
But beneath his shouts, the eyes of his soldiers were already hollow. Some were plotting desertion, others already resolved to abandon him at the first chance. The lord had become a tyrant screaming at shadows.
—
In Kai Fortress, General Ishida received the reports with grim silence. He sat alone in his war room, the banners of Takeda hanging like judgment on the walls. His hand tightened on his fan.
The boy is dangerous, Ishida thought. He fights with more than swords. He wages war upon the soul of men.
He could no longer dismiss Eugene as a mere nuisance. The defection of Satomi's captains was not just a battlefield loss—it was a contagion. If Eugene's banner came to represent food, safety, and hope, then lords across the land would begin to doubt their masters.
Ishida closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. "We may have birthed something we cannot control."
—
Back in the fortress, Eugene gathered his closest advisors: Hiroshi, Lady Aiko, Inoue, and several of his original Spears. Maps lay spread across the table, weighed down by stones.
"Our strength has swelled overnight," Hiroshi said, though his voice carried concern. "But feeding them all stretches our reserves thin. If Yoshihiro does not fall quickly, hunger will gnaw at us as well."
Eugene nodded. "Which is why we must move before the bear regains his footing."
He pointed at the map. "Yoshihiro will retreat toward Kai Fortress, dragging what men he can. His army is broken, but his pride will force him to lash out again. We must end him before Ishida can reinforce."
Inoue frowned. "A direct clash will cost us dearly. His personal guard is still formidable."
Eugene's eyes gleamed. "We will not clash directly. We will let his pride carry him into his grave."
He outlined the plan: a staged retreat, a baited battlefield where Satomi's desperate lord would be lured into overextension. Once isolated, his guard would be cut off and crushed.
Lady Aiko studied Eugene's face as he spoke, her expression unreadable. When he finished, she finally said, "You speak like one who has already seen the battle unfold."
Eugene met her gaze calmly. "Because I have."
The AI pulsed in his mind:
[Simulation complete. Probability of Satomi Yoshihiro's defeat under proposed strategy: 84%. Risk of Eugene's personal injury: moderate.]
—
That night, as the fortress settled into uneasy rest, Eugene walked alone along the outer walls. The air was sharp with the scent of pine and smoke. Below, men slept in rows, their snores mingling with the chirp of crickets.
Eugene's thoughts were not on sleep. They were on the path unfolding before him.
He had not only survived this era—he had begun to shape it. With each victory, with each defection, his banner grew heavier with meaning.
But meaning was a dangerous weapon.
Lady Aiko's words echoed in his mind: They will test you.
He knew she was right. Men followed because he fed them today. But tomorrow, they would demand more—land, justice, vision. And Eugene would need to provide it, or else he would fall like Yoshihiro, consumed by arrogance.
The AI's voice, colder than human thought, whispered through him:
[Objective progression: Establish base of power—achieved. Next stage: Consolidation and expansion. Warning: Loyalty of new forces conditional. Recommend accelerated campaign to secure stable agricultural base.]
Eugene placed a hand on the cold stone of the battlement. "Yes," he murmured. "It begins now. Dawn is rising. And with it—my kingdom."
The horizon blushed with the first glow of another day. Men stirred. Banners fluttered in the wind.
The age of Satomi was ending.The age of Eugene was dawning.