"This place is ours now!"
"Give yourselves up first!"
"If you don't want to die by our swords!"
The shouts of traitorous samurai tore through the night air outside the palace walls. Inside, the remaining loyalists stood like statues, grim and ready, sworn to protect their Daimyō.
It was the last defense.
Beyond the gates, the bodies of those loyal to the Daimyō lay scattered across the compound, silenced by the rebellion. The traitors hammered against the heavy wooden gates, the sound like thunder. Inside, the loyal samurai simultaneously sharpened their focus and their blades, preparing for the breach.
"Defend the Feudal lord!!"
"Until the last breath!" shouted one of the commanders inside the hall.
Wood splintered. The gates groaned and gave way. A few traitorous samurai spilled into the palace courtyard, their armor clinking as they slowly surrounded the defenders.
"Don't waste your time dying for that lord, Just give it up!" a traitor sneered, stepping forward.
Fear rippled through the hall, felt keenly by the Feudal lord standing among his men, but he did not waver.
"Who are you to tell me that!" the Feudal lord shouted at the traitors, his voice echoing off the walls.
"Give it up, old man. Your head belongs to the new order. Your blood will wash these stones tonight!" The traitor raised his sharp blade, pointing it directly at the Lord.
"Form up! Orb Defense!"
A loyal samurai shouted the order. Instantly, the defenders shifted. They surrounded their Feudal lord in three perfect concentric circles: the outer ring, the middle ring, and the inner ring. At the center stood the Daimyō, the heart of their duty.
The traitors rushed them. While the Feudal lord loyalists clashed with the first wave, more enemies poured into the grounds outside.
Beyond the palace walls, chaos reigned. Traitors torched the houses and evicted the residents; anyone who resisted was cut down. The smell of burning timber and iron filled the air.
High above the chaos, a man wrapped in black cloth, with only his sharp eyes visible, leapt across the rooftops toward the palace. Raiden.
He smelled the smoke of the burning homes. He heard the screams of the people asking for help. He saw the blood scattered on the walls and pavement. But he could not stop. He could not help the residents because there was only one thing on his mind right now: protecting the Feudal lord
As he sprinted across the tiles, the acrid smell of burning timber stung his eyes. A sharp pang of guilt struck Raiden harder than any blade—he wasn't by the lord side when the attack began.
Every second he was absent was a stain on his honor.He didn't have time for memories, only speed.
"My Lord... endure," Raiden hissed through clenched teeth, pushing his legs faster against the sliding roof tiles. "I am coming."
As Raiden approached the palace roof, the battle below intensified. The sheer number of enemies overwhelmed the defense. They battered through the Outer Ring of loyal samurai and immediately flooded the gap, rushing toward the Middle Ring as if victory were already theirs.
The invaders focused high, weapons raised for the finishing blows, their eyes locked on the standing figures of the Inner Ring—the ultimate prize. They never saw the danger just below their line of sight.
A single, iron voice, the command officer of the Middle Ring, cut through the noise: "HARVEST!"
The kneeling defense exploded into motion. In the same instant, the entire Middle Ring—each samurai anchored by one knee pressed into the dirt—drove their power from their bent upper legs. Their hips snapped with violent, synchronized force.
The katanas of the Middle Ring were not raised in defense; they were driven in a single, relentless, horizontal arc, spinning low and flat against the earth.
The invading warriors, moving at full sprint, ran directly into this sweeping, lethal wall of steel. There was a sound of sickening, high-pitched snapping bone and rent tissue as the blades, moving with the momentum of the samurai's entire body weight, sliced through unprotected ankles and shins.
The invaders instantly lost their foundation. Their forward momentum became a terrible force against them as they slammed face-first onto the ground, their weapons skittering away.
The Middle Ring held the pose, blades momentarily paused in the low, horizontal arc—a ground-level scythe that had flawlessly purged the breach. The line was broken, but the defense held, sealed by a terrifying, synchronized cut.
When the first rushers fell, the defenders immediately stabbed their blades into the backs of the fallen traitors, then returned to their defensive posture, retreating slightly to tighten the circle.
The Feudal lord hand gripped his katana, white-knuckled, ready to fight if the Middle Ring broke. The opponents froze. They did not know this technique; it was a secret art, used only when a Very Important Person must be protected at all costs.
Outside, the traitors changed tactics. They threw torches, setting the palace exterior on fire to flush the Daimyō out.
Raiden saw it from the roof. He moved instantly, throwing shuriken with deadly precision. The torch-bearers fell one by one. The other traitorous samurai looked up, spotting the silhouette on the roof, but Raiden had already acted. He dropped a smoke bomb, laying a thick curtain of gray ash in a straight line toward the palace edge.
"Chase that!" shouted one of the enemies.
"CHASE!"
They shouted in unison, rushing blindly into the smoke.
But Raiden had placed a trap. Just before the smoke bloomed, he had scattered caltrops—wicked metal spikes—across the path.
The pursuing samurai ran full speed into the gray cloud. Immediately, screams of pain erupted as feet were impaled on the spikes. They fell in a heap, blocking the path for those behind them.
While they writhed in pain, Raiden scrambled up the palace wall to the upper roof vents.
Inside, the invaders heard the commotion outside.
"What are those shouts?" an enemy samurai asked, distracted.
The enemies still surrounded the formation, while the surviving loyalists in the outer ring fought desperately.
"I didn't know you had a trick out there!" the enemy leader said seriously, leveling his blade at the Feudal lord.
The lord wondered what was happening, but a spark of hope ignited in his chest. "Could it be him?"
Suddenly, another wave of "monsters"—elite traitor samurai—rushed past the broken outer defense, heading for the middle ring.
"KILL THEM NOW!" shouted the enemy leader.
"Position!!" shouted the leader of the Middle Ring.
Before the clash could happen, Raiden slipped through the ventilation gap. He was inside. He crouched silently on the large wooden logs of the ceiling, high above the chaotic floor.
From above, he threw a smoke bomb directly in front of the Middle Ring defense.
*Poof*
A cloud of grey exploded in the faces of the attackers. They were blinded. Raiden followed it instantly by throwing a volley of shuriken.
The enemy samurai were stunned. One moment there was smoke, the next, sharp steel was raining down on them. Men cried out, clutching their faces; others collapsed, struck in the head.
They looked around wildly for the source but saw nothing.
The Feudal lord and his loyalists looked up. Through the haze, they saw a figure dressed in full black drop from the ceiling, landing softly between them and the enemy.
The loyalists instinctively aimed their blades at the intruder.
"Don't point your swords at him!" the Feudal lord commanded. "You don't know him, but he is my protector no matter where I go."
The loyal samurai lowered their weapons, surprised.
Raiden bowed his head slightly, never taking his eyes off the smoke. "Greetings, my Lord. I'm sorry that I was caught up today, and thank you that you are safe."
He drew his blade. "I will clear the way. Follow me."
The loyalists nodded. They would follow this shadow.
Raiden stood before the smoke. Enemy samurai began to emerge from the gray cloud, coughing and confused. They didn't know who this black-clad figure was.
Raiden signaled them to come to him with a taunting hand motion.
Enraged, the traitors rushed at Raiden all at once. Little did they know, the Lord's loyal samurai were waiting just behind the dissipating smoke.
The fight began. Raiden moved like a storm, a blur of black cloth and flashing steel. He cut down those who rushed him directly while simultaneously flicking spike black needle to disrupt enemies attacking the flanks.
The lord stood amidst the chaos, his white-knuckled grip on his own katana finally loosening. His eyes went wide, reflecting the sparks of clashing metal.
He watched his shadow weave through the smoke, decimating the traitors with impossible speed, and for a moment, the Lord forgot to breathe. This was not just a bodyguard; this was a force of nature.
Raiden cleared the room, but he knew it wasn't over.
"Move!" Raiden signaled.
The leader of the Middle Ring Defense immediately ordered his men to expand outward, engaging the remaining enemies so the Inner Ring could focus entirely on running with the Feudal lord
They burst out of the burning palace. As the Inner Ring and the Feudal lord ran across the courtyard, Raiden noticed the glint of arrowheads. Enemy archers were positioned on the surrounding roofs.
Raiden immediately broke formation, scaling a wall to draw their fire.
"Hey! The ninja is coming up!" one archer yelled.
"YOU FOOL!"
Raiden had planned this. He threw a smoke bomb above himself, creating an aerial cloud so the archers couldn't track his movement.
He reached into his pouch. Empty.
"Ah, shit... this is the last one," he muttered.
He threw his final shuriken through the smoke. A gargled cry followed as an archer fell from the roof. Raiden vaulted onto the tiles. He grabbed the fallen archer's bow and quiver. One by one, he shot the remaining enemies, forcing them to retreat from the high ground.
He grabbed a few extra bows from the bodies and dropped back down to the courtyard, tossing them to the samurai in the Inner Ring.
"Shoot back!" Raiden ordered, rejoining the Feudal lord side.