The enormous Britannian legion had marched within sight of the western fortress, spread across the surrounding terrain, and then stopped just outside the range where Sekigahara's Martial Apprentices and defenses could comfortably launch a counterattack.
For several tense minutes, the Sekigaharans expected the charge to begin.
But It never came.
Instead, Britannian engineering units moved forward.
Heavy wagons rolled through the flattened jungle carrying timber, sheets of treated metal, ammunition crates, portable barriers, and pieces of siege equipment that had been broken apart for transport. Soldiers immediately began unloading them while teams of engineers marked positions around the fortress perimeter.
Mikan stared from the Sekigaharan line.
"...What are they doing?"
Britannia wasn't behaving like an army that intended to smash itself against Sekigahara's walls and hope overwhelming won them the war.
They were settling in, preparing for a drawn-out battle.
Temporary fortifications began appearing across the western field. Defensive barriers were driven into the earth while artillery positions were dug behind them. Siege tanks moved into prepared firing lanes, their crews coordinating with engineers who measured angles toward the fortress.
Another formation moved farther north.
A second moved south.
Yoshimoto watched their standards disappear behind the surrounding jungle.
"They're surrounding us. Spread out."
One of the nearby Martial Apprentices stepped forward.
"We should hit them before they finish."
Several others immediately voiced agreement.
"They're spread out."
"Give us twenty high-grades and we'll tear through those engineers."
"We can't let them build right outside the fortress!"
Yoshimoto lifted one hand.
"Stay in your zone, as discussed."
The voices stopped, but the same Martial Apprentice frowned.
"But Lord Yoshimoto, they're exposed!"
"Don't be fooled."
Yoshimoto pointed toward the nearest Britannian engineering team.
A dozen ordinary soldiers were assembling what looked like the base of a large siege weapon.
Around them stood six Apprentice Knights.
Each wore thick plate armor that covered nearly the entire body. Some wore shields that were planted into the ground while two stood behind the others with their hands resting against the reinforced plates.
"They've put Martial Artists around every engineering unit."
Every construction team had protection.
Every siege crew had its own squad.
Even the supply wagons moving between positions traveled beneath the protection of armored Apprentice Knights.
Yoshimoto clicked his tongue.
"Unless you can take on six of their Apprentices on your own and die, do so."
One of the Martial Apprentices looked across the field.
"We... We can still break through!"
"Idiot."
"We're outnumbered badly enough already. You charge those engineers and fifty more Knights will collapse around you before you reach the first barrier."
Nobody argued after that.
Martial Apprentices filled the western approaches. Potion units waited behind armored formations while siege tanks continued moving into position. Supply wagons rolled constantly between the rear camps and frontline units.
Yoshimoto knew that Sekigahara had better individual Martial Artists.
But Britannia knew too.
That was exactly why they weren't giving Sekigahara the all-out battle it wanted.
Mikan walked up to Yoshimoto.
"Have you fought them before?"
"Britannians?"
He nodded toward the front of the Britannian army.
Mikan followed her gaze all the way to an silver armored man with a dragon crest, smiling smugly.
Sir Kay Pendragon stood there.
Even at this distance, the polished plate armor and longsword were familiar.
Mikan looked at him.
"Strong?"
Yoshimoto sighed.
"Unfortunately."
Yoshimoto rolled one shoulder and immediately regretted it when pain spread across his ribs.
Mikan noticed.
"Are you sure you can fight him in that state?"
"Says the one who was shot yesterday."
"That was yesterday."
Yoshimoto gave her a look.
Mikan shrugged.
"Different."
Before Yoshimoto could respond, movement spread through the Britannian line.
Sir Kay stepped forward, his sword rested against one shoulder.
He walked ahead of his troops until enough distance separated him from the nearest formation that his voice could carry without being lost beneath the noise of the army.
"Yoshimoto Seishin!"
His amplified voice carried across the field.
Several Sekigaharan Martial Apprentices turned.
Yoshimoto sighed again as he stepped forward. The bastard looked exactly as pleased with himself as he remembered.
His ribs protested with every breath but he ignored them.
"Kay Pendragon!"
The Britannian smiled from across the field.
"It has been some time!"
"Not long enough!"
Kay laughed.
Yoshimoto raised his voice.
"Are you certain you wish to do this, Kay? You've crossed into Sekigaharan territory with an army. The Confederate will not tolerate this invasion!"
Kay's laughter grew louder.
"Gods above, Yoshimoto!"
Kay pointed his sword toward him.
"What a dreadful bluff."
Several Britannian Knights laughed behind him.
Kay continued.
"Did Kandria beat thee so badly that shouting is all you've got left?"
Yoshimoto's face tightened.
Kay's smile widened.
"I hear they crossed your border, broke your men, battered your walls, and simply walked away."
He lowered the point of his sword slightly.
"And now you stand there warning Britannia of consequences?"
Mikan slowly turned toward Yoshimoto as his cheek twitched in anger.
Kay tilted his head.
"Why not chase Kandria first? Surely thou dost not mean to let them walk free after humiliating thee so thoroughly."
Yoshimoto's hand slowly rose.
Kay stopped talking.
The Sekigaharan artillery crews saw the signal.
Yoshimoto's voice became cold.
"Fire."
The fortress erupted.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOOOOOM!
Cannons along the walls discharged almost simultaneously.
Huge shells tore across the battlefield toward Britannian siege positions. Dirt exploded upward as projectiles smashed into barricades, artillery pits, and half-constructed fortifications.
The Britannians had been waiting for it as Defensive Apprentice Knights moved as squads.
Shields locked.
Martial techniques activated.
Some braced their entire bodies against impact while others redirected force into the earth. A few defensive specialists stepped directly into the paths of incoming projectiles and struck them aside before they could reach the engineers behind them.
One shell shattered against a wall of overlapping shields.
Another hit hard enough to send three Knights tumbling through the dirt.
Before Sekigahara could celebrate, another defensive squad replaced them.
The engineers kept working; fully trusting their Apprentice Knights to protect them.
Another barrage struck.
Another defensive squad absorbed it.
By the time Sekigahara's artillery crews began reloading, the Britannians had already comfortably completed the first line of fortifications.
Sir Kay watched the exchange with obvious satisfaction.
One of his aides approached from behind.
"My lord."
Kay turned.
"The northern force has completed its maneuver."
"Good."
"The southern detachment has also moved into position. The road leading back toward Sekigahara's supply territory is now under observation."
Kay's smile sharpened.
"And the supply routes?"
"Blocked."
The aide handed him a small field map.
"Our separate force struck the nearest relay camps before they could withdraw. Scouts attempting to pass through the western routes have also been intercepted."
Kay studied the map with a smile.
"So they're alone?"
"For the moment, yes."
The aide looked toward the fortress.
"How long dost thou believe it will take to bring the fortress down, my lord?"
Kay folded the map.
"We shall see."
He handed it back as he began walking.
The aide blinked.
"My lord?"
Kay drew his longsword.
Behind him, officers immediately recognized the signal as Britannian Apprentice Knights began moving forward alongside him.
The formations surrounding the engineering units remained where they were. Defensive squads continued protecting the siege lines while the offensive entities of the army gathered around Sir Kay.
Hundreds of Apprentice Knights began marching toward the fortress in disciplined formation.
Sekigahara reacted immediately. Weapons came free from their sheaths, senses sharpened, fists tightened, and bodies settled into fighting stances across the western field.
Mikan spread her silver portia threads between her fingers while Yoshimoto drew in a slow breath and planted his feet.
The Britannians kept walking.
Their armored ranks moved together with none of the scattered eagerness usually seen from Martial Artists about to clash. Shields remained close to the body, weapons stayed ready, and every squad maintained its spacing even as the distance between both armies steadily vanished.
Then Kay accelerated.
The people around him matched the change instantly. A measured march became a jog, and within seconds the entire offensive force surged into a full sprint behind him. Hundreds of armored boots hammered against the earth hard enough that the ground itself began trembling beneath the Sekigaharan line.
Yoshimoto watched them come.
"Hold!"
The line tightened. Martial Apprentices shifted closer to the comrades beside them while the Britannians continued closing the distance. Yoshimoto waited until he could clearly see the dragon crest engraved across Kay's silver breastplate and the grin beneath his helmet.
"Hold!"
The last stretch disappeared.
"NOW!"
Sekigahara met Britannia.
Yoshimoto's arms swept outward, blowing a powerful gale that blew away a whole squad behind Kay, who dodged the strike.
BOOOOOOM!
The impact rolled across the western field like an explosion.
A Martial Apprentice drove his fist straight into the breastplate of the first Britannian Knight to reach him. The steel collapsed inward beneath the blow, and the Knight flew backward hard enough to crash into two men behind him. The Martial Apprentice barely had time to recover his stance before a second Britannian slammed a shield into his flank and forced him sideways.
A third Knight came low at the same time.
The Martial Apprentice twisted his leg out of reach and drove an elbow into the shield user's helmet, but the first man he'd punched was already dragging himself back onto his feet.
Nearby, another Martial Apprentice caught a spear shaft beneath one arm and yanked the Britannian forward. He seized the Knight by the breastplate and drove him face-first into the ground, cracking the earth beneath the impact.
Before he could finish the man, another Britannian crashed into his ribs.
The Martial Apprentice staggered.
A second attacker immediately came from the opposite side.
He roared, caught one of them around the waist and hurled him over his shoulder, only to find another armored Knight already stepping into the opening.
Farther down the line, another Martial Apprentice slipped between fists so quickly that both Britannians lost sight of her. She struck one beneath the jaw, twisted, then drove her heel into the other's temple before either could properly turn.
She landed lightly behind them.
A shield was already coming toward her.
BAM!
The impact sent her skidding several meters across the dirt.
She rolled back onto her feet with a curse and found four Britannians waiting for her instead of two.
That was the problem.
Sekigahara's Martial Apprentices were stronger.
The difference became obvious almost immediately.
One Sekigaharan could punch through armor that would have stopped an ordinary fighter. Another could move too quickly for a single Britannian to follow. Some struck hard enough that Apprentice Knights were being thrown across the battlefield whenever they mistimed a block.
Britannia had expected that.
They never gave a Sekigaharan one opponent.
A Knight who struggled against a stronger enemy didn't keep fighting alone until he lost. His squad closed around him. One pressured from the front while another attacked from the side. Someone else waited outside the immediate exchange for the moment the Sekigaharan committed too heavily to one target.
When a Britannian took a serious hit, another covered him long enough for him to withdraw.
Then somebody fresh stepped into his place.
The Sekigaharans were winning exchanges... but Britannia slowly whittled them down, taking advantage of every mistake.
oshimoto barely had time to help his kinsmen before steel came roaring toward his neck.
He leaned backward just as Kay's longsword tore through the space where his throat had been. Fire peeled off the edge in a bright orange trail, washing heat across Yoshimoto's face and leaving the air shimmering behind it. Kay's first swing had barely finished before he twisted his hips and dragged the blade back the other way, putting the weight of his armored frame behind the reversal.
CLANG!
Yoshimoto smashed his forearm against the flat of the sword. The impact felt more like stopping a hammer than blocking a blade. His feet slid through the dirt while flames burst outward from the point of contact and crawled briefly along his sleeve before the compressed air surrounding his body tore them away.
Kay grinned as he pulled the sword back.
Kay stepped forward again and raised the longsword over one shoulder. Fire gathered along the steel, crawling from the guard toward the tip until the entire blade glowed beneath a sheath of orange flame. He brought it down with both hands.
"Wyvern Fang."
WHOOOOM!
The strike came down with enough force to kick dirt into the air before it landed.
Yoshimoto thrust both palms forward.
Compressed air detonated between them.
BOOOOM!
The flaming sword crashed directly into the blast.
For a heartbeat, neither gave way. Fire spread across the surface of the compressed pressure while wind tore at the flames and scattered sparks across the battlefield. Kay roared and leaned harder into the strike, forcing the sword deeper until Yoshimoto's air blast finally split around the blade.
The remaining force still hammered into Kay.
His boots carved deep trenches through the ground as he was shoved backward several meters, armor rattling beneath the pressure.
Though, he never left his feet.
Yoshimoto frowned.
Kay laughed.
"There it is!"
He charged through the fading wind before Yoshimoto could settle.
Yoshimoto's arms moved again.
Another compressed blast surged toward him.
Kay planted one foot, twisted his entire body, and swung from the hips.
"Dragon's Gate!"
FWOOSH!
His sword came around in a brutal horizontal arc.
Fire exploded along the edge as the blade smashed into Yoshimoto's technique. The compressed air buckled around the impact, losing its shape as Kay battered the pressure aside rather than cleanly cutting through it.
The remaining wind still slammed into him hard enough to throw his upper body sideways.
One boot tore another trench through the dirt, but Kay caught himself.
When he looked back up, his grin had only widened.
"Thou are truly injured!"
Yoshimoto's expression hardened.
Kay lunged.
"If that were thy usual wind, I'd be halfway across the battlefield!"
His longsword came crashing down from above, but Yoshimoto shifted aside.
The blade struck the ground.
BAAAM!
Earth burst upward around the impact.
A crescent of flame rushed out across the grass and blackened everything it touched.
Kay ripped the sword free and swung again before Yoshimoto could fully reposition. Yoshimoto ducked beneath the returning slash, feeling the heat pass over his scalp as several strands of black hair curled from the temperature alone.
Kay stepped closer to keep the pressure on him.
Yoshimoto smiled.
You're too close.
His fist buried itself in Kay's breastplate.
BAAAM!
The silver armor folded inward.
Kay's eyes widened as both feet left the ground. He flew backward several meters before striking the earth and rolling through the dirt.
Yoshimoto straightened as much as his ribs allowed.
Pain pulled sharply beneath the bandages around his torso.
Kay planted one gauntlet against the ground and pushed himself upright.
Blood ran from one corner of his mouth.
For several seconds, he simply stared at Yoshimoto, breathing hard through a smile that looked far too pleased for someone who had just been punched and flung away.
Then he laughed.
"Good!"
He wiped the blood away with the back of one hand.
"Very good."
The flames surrounding his longsword had dimmed during the fall. Kay tightened his grip, and they surged back to life around the blade.
Yoshimoto lowered himself into another stance, waiting for another attack. But Kay's free hand moved toward his belt.
A small red vial came loose from one of the leather loops holding the rest of his military equipment in place.
Yoshimoto's expression immediately soured.
"A potion?"
Kay pulled the stopper free with his teeth.
"Aye."
He drank it in a single swallow.
Yoshimoto watched the red liquid disappear as Kay casually tossed the empty vial into the grass.
"We aren't poor, now, are we?"
Yoshimoto's eyebrow twitched.
"You arrogant bastard."
Kay raised his sword again.
"Thank thee."
Then he attacked.
The second exchange was uglier.
Kay stopped with delicate swordplay. He drove forward behind every swing with the weight of his shoulders, hips, legs, and armor, turning each slash into something closer to a collision.
His sword crashed down against Yoshimoto's guard.
CLANG!
Yoshimoto's feet sank deeper into the dirt.
Fire burst across his crossed forearms.
Kay pulled the blade back and swung again from the opposite direction, forcing Yoshimoto to twist aside as the flaming edge tore through the air close enough to scorch his sleeve.
Yoshimoto answered with an elbow.
It smashed into the side of Kay's helmet and snapped his head sideways.
Kay staggered.
The fire around his sword flared brighter.
He spun with the impact instead of resisting it and used the rotation to bring the weapon around again.
Yoshimoto crossed both arms.
CLANG!
The strike shook his bones.
Flames burst around his guard and crawled across the cloth around his wrists.
Yoshimoto pushed through the heat, his knee drove into Kay's stomach.
CLANG!
The silver plate caved inward slightly.
Kay stumbled backward, but only for a moment.
His sword came up over his shoulder again.
Yoshimoto stepped aside as the next downward strike smashed into the ground hard enough to crack it. Fire raced through the fracture, glowing between broken chunks of earth.
Kay ripped the blade free with brute force.
He swung again immediately.
His style was flashy enough to catch the eye from across the battlefield. Every major strike left a trail of fire hanging behind the sword. His named techniques shaped those flames into brief dragon-like jaws, claws, or sweeping arcs that followed the path of his weapon.
The spectacle almost hid how simple the foundation was.
Kay wanted every swing to hurt.
He didn't rely on speed to overwhelm an opponent. He used the weight of the sword, the power of his entire body, and the explosive force of the flames to make each strike land like a siege hammer.
Yoshimoto could feel it through every block.
Even when he stopped the blade itself, the force behind it traveled through his arms and into his shoulders. The surrounding heat singed his skin.
His injured ribs hated every second of it.
Still, Yoshimoto was stronger.
Kay overcommitted on another downward strike.
Yoshimoto stepped inside before the Britannian could recover.
His air compressed fist slammed into Kay's ribs.
BAM!
Another section of silver plate bent inward.
Kay grunted and stumbled.
Yoshimoto followed with a second punch that clipped his jaw and snapped his head to the side.
Kay tried to answer with a two-handed flaming slash, but Yoshimoto kicked off the ground and released compressed air behind himself, blasting his body backward just far enough for the burning edge to miss his chest.
Kay's sword buried itself in the ground.
For half a second, the Britannian was stuck.
Yoshimoto landed.
His palms were already raised.
Kay looked up.
"Oh, bugger."
BOOM!
The compressed blast struck him square in the chest.
Kay disappeared through a broken barricade in an explosion of splintered wood and dust.
For several moments, nothing moved inside the wreckage.
Yoshimoto lowered his arms and breathed through the ache spreading beneath his ribs.
Then the debris shifted.
A gauntleted hand punched through a broken plank.
Kay pushed the wreckage aside and climbed back onto his feet.
Smoke drifted from his armor.
Blood ran down one side of his face.
The dent across his breastplate had deepened.
Yet the bastard was still smiling.
Another potion was already doing its work.
Kay rolled one shoulder, tightened both hands around his flaming longsword, and smiled at Yoshimoto across the broken barricade.
He looked entirely too happy to continue.
.
.
.
Sekigaharan Martial Apprentices kept winning individual exchanges, but Britannia refused to let those victories stay isolated.
A Kinzoku swordsman knocked one Knight down, only for a shield to fill the gap before he could follow through. Nearby, a Shinken fighter dropped two opponents and immediately found more closing around him.
Mikan saw the pattern and stopped trying to fight head-on.
Her speed and movement were more useful elsewhere.
She darted through the battlefield, pulling overwhelmed Sekigaharans out of collapsing formations and breaking Britannian coordination whenever she found an opening.
A spear thrust toward a Kinzoku's back.
Silver threads snapped around the shaft and yanked it aside.
A Shinken fighter became boxed in by shields.
Mikan slipped through the gap, hooked one Britannian's arm with her threads, and dragged him out of position.
"Move!"
The Shinken burst free.
Mikan was already gone.
She vaulted over another Knight, caught an Oni fighter by the shoulder with a thread, and pulled him just far enough for a sword to miss his neck.
The Oni immediately punished the attacker.
Mikan landed several meters away and looked across the field.
Everywhere, Britannia kept closing around stronger Sekigaharans with numbers and formation discipline.
She clicked her tongue.
"They're like fucking ants."
Then she was moving again, searching for the next Sekigaharan about to be overwhelmed.
Across the battlefield, Yoshimoto's fist crashed into the side of Kay's helmet.
Kay stumbled sideways.
Yoshimoto planted his feet and thrust both palms toward him.
Compressed air exploded.
BOOM!
Kay flew backward.
He struck the ground, bounced once, then slid through the dirt until his armor carved a long trail behind him.
For several seconds, he remained there.
Yoshimoto bent slightly forward.
His own breathing had become heavier.
Several shallow cuts crossed his arms now, and a longer gash beneath one side of his ribs had soaked through part of his dougi. The bandages hidden beneath were already turning red.
Kay slowly pushed himself onto one knee.
Blood filled his mouth as he spat it into the grass.
His amusement had dimmed.
Then his attention moved away from Yoshimoto.
Across the battlefield, three Britannian Apprentice Knights were down badly enough that they could no longer continue.
One clutched a ruined knee while two of his comrades tried to pull him away.
Another lay unconscious after taking a direct strike from a Shinken fighter.
The third had been stabbed beneath a weak point in his armor and was being carried backward, blood running down one side of his plate.
Kay's expression changed.
One hand disappeared beneath his breastplate.
When it emerged again, a small whistle hung from a cord between his fingers.
Yoshimoto noticed.
"What are you doing?"
Kay looked back toward him.
The smile returned, smaller this time.
"I applaud thee, Yoshimoto. Truly."
He raised the whistle toward his mouth.
"But I believe that shall suffice for now."
Yoshimoto frowned.
"What?"
Kay blew.
FWIIIIIIIIII!
The sound cut cleanly through the battlefield.
The Britannian army reacted at once.
The Knights closest to the Sekigaharan line began backing away while defensive specialists moved forward to cover them. Shields came together across the retreating front, giving injured fighters enough protection to disappear behind their comrades.
Wounded Knights were collected first, passed through the retreating formations toward support personnel waiting farther behind.
A Shinken Martial Apprentice rushed after them.
Yoshimoto saw him move.
"Don't chase!"
The man stopped sharply.
Several others had already taken a few steps forward, eager to finish opponents they'd been battering only moments earlier.
Yoshimoto raised his voice.
"Hold your positions!"
The Sekigaharans obeyed, though most looked confused.
Britannia wasn't fleeing.
Their ranks remained intact as they moved back toward the fortifications they'd spent the afternoon constructing.
Kay withdrew with them.
Before disappearing behind the first line of defenses, he looked back toward Yoshimoto and lifted one hand.
He waved.
Yoshimoto stared at him.
"...Asshole."
Within minutes, the field fell quiet.
The silence felt almost unnatural after the constant crash of steel and Martial techniques.
Sekigaharan Martial Apprentices remained scattered across the torn ground, many of them watching the Britannian positions and waiting for the retreat to reverse.
But to their surprise, nothing happened.
The enemy stayed behind its fortifications.
Mikan approached Yoshimoto while slowly retracting her silver threads around her fingers. A shallow cut marked one cheek, and dust covered much of her clothing.
She looked toward the Britannian camp.
"They left."
Yoshimoto glanced at her.
"I noticed."
Mikan studied the distant barricades for a few moments.
"Why?"
Yoshimoto almost answered, but then a groan behind him pulled his attention away.
One of the Kinzoku Martial Apprentices had dropped to a knee, blood running freely down his thigh. Another fighter caught him beneath one arm before he collapsed completely.
Several meters farther away, two Shinken disciples were carrying one of their own toward the gate. His arm hung uselessly from the shoulder while blood covered the side of his clothing.
Yoshimoto's expression changed.
"Forget Britannia for now."
"Anyone seriously injured goes inside immediately. If you can still walk, help someone who can't."
The order spread quickly as Martial Apprentices began moving toward the western gate while physicians and support personnel rushed out to meet them with stretchers and medical supplies.
Yoshimoto remained where he was for another moment.
Across the field, Britannian engineers had already resumed working.
The Knights who'd just fought were being treated behind the barricades. Armor came off injured limbs while medics applied salves and passed potions between the wounded.
Fresh fighters stepped into their places along the defenses.
Yoshimoto frowned.
Sekigahara had already been pushed several meters closer to the fortress by the time Kay blew that whistle.
The Britannians still had plenty of fresh fighters waiting behind the frontline.
There had been no obvious reason to stop.
Mikan walked up beside him.
"Maybe they got tired."
She shrugged.
Yoshimoto looked back toward the enemy camp.
Maybe Kay had only wanted to test their remaining strength before committing more of his army?
Maybe Britannia wanted to finish surrounding the fortress before beginning a longer engagement?
Both explanations made sense.
Neither mattered enough to ignore the wounded behind him.
Yoshimoto finally turned toward the gate.
"Get everyone treated. Anyone capable of fighting afterward stays ready."
Mikan followed him.
"You think they're coming again?"
Yoshimoto glanced over his shoulder.
The Britannian fortifications were still growing.
Engineers continued hammering supports into the earth while armored Knights watched from behind the barricades.
"I don't know."
His gaze remained there for another moment.
"But they didn't bring an army this far just to fight us for an hour."
He turned back toward the fortress.
"Stay ready."
.
.
.
The second attack came after midnight, just as the fortress had begun to settle into an uneasy quiet.
Britannian horns rolled across the darkened field while lanterns and esoteric lamps flared to life along their siege lines. By the time Sekigahara's alarms answered, armored formations were already advancing toward the western wall again.
The defenders had expected another attack eventually, but few expected Britannia to return so quickly. Martial Apprentices poured through the gate with fresh bandages still wrapped around limbs and torsos, some carrying bruises that had barely begun to settle from the first clash.
Britannia looked far better prepared.
Fresh squads had taken the front.
The second battle lasted longer than the first, but the shape of it barely changed.
Sekigaharan Martial Apprentices still proved stronger in direct exchanges. A single high-grade fighter could hold off several Britannian Knights at once and sometimes force whole squads backward through raw skill and power.
Britannia answered with numbers and coordination.
Whenever one Knight was overwhelmed, another stepped in before the Sekigaharan could capitalize. If someone tried to break through a formation, nearby squads shifted to close the gap and drag the fight back into their preferred rhythm.
Yoshimoto found Sir Kay again near the center of the battlefield.
The two fought long enough for fire and compressed wind to tear apart the ground around them. Yoshimoto was still wounded and noticeably slower than usual, but Kay quickly learned that injured did not mean helpless.
Neither man managed to put the other down.
Then, before Sekigahara could turn its superior individual strength into meaningful Britannian casualties, that familiar whistle cut through the battlefield.
FWIIIIIIIIII!
The entire Britannian front began pulling back almost immediately.
Defensive squads moved forward to cover the withdrawal while wounded Knights were collected and passed toward the rear. The rest retreated in order, keeping their formations intact as they disappeared behind the fortifications they'd spent the day building.
Sekigahara did not pursue.
Yoshimoto had already warned them against chasing a larger army into prepared defenses.
Within minutes, the battlefield was quiet again.
Yoshimoto stood near the center of the torn field, breathing heavily as the last Britannian squad vanished behind its barricades. Around him, Sekigaharan physicians and support personnel were already moving among the wounded.
A Kinzoku Martial Apprentice was carried toward the gate with one leg hanging uselessly. Nearby, a Shinken fighter limped beside two clanmates with one arm pressed tight against his side while others sat against the outer wall, too exhausted to immediately stand again.
Yoshimoto looked back toward Britannia.
Their camp was already reorganizing.
Fresh guards replaced the fighters who had just withdrawn. Medics moved among the wounded while supply wagons continued rolling through the camp as though the battle had barely interrupted anything.
His expression slowly hardened.
The first attack had ended the same way.
Britannia had pushed until Sekigahara began to wear down, then Kay had withdrawn before his own side suffered serious losses.
Now they had done it again.
Yoshimoto glanced toward the fortress behind him, where another stretcher disappeared through the gate, then back toward the enemy camp where wounded Knights were being treated and replaced.
His jaw tightened.
"They're bleeding us."
Mikan stood a short distance away and followed his gaze.
Yoshimoto didn't elaborate.
He didn't need to.
Britannia had enough men to keep rotating fresh Knights into battle. Sekigahara had to keep sending out the same increasingly exhausted defenders.
If this continued, Britannia would not need to break the fortress in one decisive battle.
They could simply keep coming back until Sekigahara had nothing left to answer with.
.
.
.
Sir Kay Pendragon was having an excellent night.
Steam drifted through the temporary Britannian command camp from a large metal bathtub that looked absurdly luxurious compared to everything surrounding it. Hot water, scented oils, and imported soap filled the tub while two Apprentice Knight women scrubbed dirt and dried blood from Kay's shoulders.
Another attendant waited nearby with a folded towel.
The bruising around Kay's ribs had already been treated with potion, and the swelling along his jaw had gone down considerably since the battle ended.
One of his aides stood several steps away with a report in hand.
"The second assault inflicted further Sekigaharan casualties, my lord. Our own losses remain negligible. Several injuries, but no deaths. Most of the wounded should be fit for combat again after treatment."
Kay leaned deeper into the water and closed his eyes.
"Splendid. See that they are properly tended. I would rather not waste a good Knight through poor care."
"Of course, my lord."
The plan was proceeding exactly as intended.
Sekigahara possessed the stronger Martial Apprentices. Kay had no trouble admitting that after crossing blades with Yoshimoto twice.
That simply meant Britannia had no cause to fight according to Sekigahara's preferences.
There was little sense trading one Knight for one Sekigaharan when Britannia possessed the larger force, better logistical support, superior equipment, and enough fresh personnel to rotate entire frontline squads.
They would strike until Sekigahara committed its defenders, then pull away before the fighting became costly.
Once their wounded were treated and fresh Knights were ready, Britannia could simply return.
Again.
And again.
Every engagement drained Sekigahara more than it drained Britannia.
Kay opened one eye.
"And the supply routes?"
"Still blocked, my lord. None have broken through."
"Good. What of reinforcements?"
"One group attempted to approach from the northeast. Mostly mid-grade Martial Apprentices with supplies."
Kay turned his head slightly.
"And?"
"They were driven away without difficulty."
A satisfied smile spread across Kay's face.
"Excellent. Keep the roads choked. Let them feel how small that fortress becomes when no one can reach it."
"At once, my lord."
One of the Apprentice Knight women poured more hot water over his shoulder while Kay leaned back and stared toward the top of the tent.
He could already imagine the reports that would spread through the dungeon once this was over.
Britannia had taken Sekigahara's western fortress.
Minimal casualties.
No unnecessary losses.
A proper military victory.
After that, who would care about Kandria's little raid?
Kay's smile widened.
He had heard the stories about the masked Kandrian Martial Apprentice who had supposedly defeated Yoshimoto Seishin alone.
He found the tale difficult to swallow.
Even wounded, Yoshimoto had been a troublesome opponent. Kay had needed a potion and still couldn't put him down cleanly.
Yet he was expected to believe some nameless masked Apprentice had simply walked through the man?
"Absurd," Kay muttered.
His aide glanced up.
"My lord?"
"Nothing of consequence."
Kay rested his head against the edge of the tub.
"Some tales grow taller with each frightened tongue that repeats them. Kandrian intelligence may have dressed the story up for glory, or Sekigahara may have found it useful to make the bastard sound monstrous."
The aide considered that.
"Would that surprise thee, my lord?"
Kay gave him a faint smile.
"Nay."
He closed his eyes again.
Either way, he had no intention of letting Kandria's operation remain the most impressive victory of the campaign.
Britannia would take an entire fortress.
They would do it with discipline, patience, and proper planning.
And if Kay had his way, they would do it without burying a single Knight.
"Now that," he murmured, "is how one wins a war."
.
.
.
Much later, the western wall had gone quiet again.
The fires of the Britannian camp burned beyond the dark field while patrols moved along the walls below.
Atop one of the battlements stood the armored giant.
Merun remained completely still, one hand resting near the hilt of the massive greatsword beside him. His dark armor swallowed most of the surrounding light, while the kabuto hid every trace of his expression.
Mikan climbed the final section of stairs and stepped onto the battlement, immediately spotting the massive silhouette near the edge.
"Found you."
The kabuto turned slightly toward her.
Mikan crossed her arms as she walked closer.
"Where the hell were you? We've fought them twice now."
Merun said nothing.
That only irritated her more.
"Are you going to help or not?"
This time, the armored figure turned fully toward her.
Mikan expected the usual response.
A stupid joke.
A shrug.
Maybe that ridiculous deep voice he'd been using while pretending to be Kabuto.
Instead, Merun simply stared at her.
Even through the helmet, something about the look felt different enough to stop her.
Serious.
Mikan's expression shifted slightly as the silence stretched between them.
Then Merun finally sighed and spoke.
His voice came low from beneath the helmet.
"Do you really need my help?"
Mikan blinked.
Merun turned his gaze back toward the Britannian camp.
"I already gave you the tools to win."