203: Counterattack, thorough and complete, they say.

"Gwahahaha! Taste the edge of my spear properly!"

The vanguard rider bursting from Dōn Fortress was Shingen, the one-eyed man astride a particularly large two-legged bird.

"Father! At least—please, just let me take the lead this time!"

Hanbee cried out, trying to stop Shingen, but couldn’t catch up to the man riding the noble bird.

"Where’s the fool who charges headfirst, General? Stay in the rear, you idiot!"

The voice that followed belonged to Motonari, head of the O'Brien family. Even his usual smug smirk had vanished. Shingen spat back.

"You're the one who shouldn't be overreaching, you brainy type. Stay put with Masamune and guard the fortress!"

Masamune, head of one of the Three Great Houses, Saint Claire, was set to remain at the fortress with Kyle’s troops as reserve, preparing to defend the Dōn Bridge, which would surely be targeted.

“Make way! The honor of the first spear goes to Lady Muten! Heh heh… that’ll surely win her over…”

“What was that?!”

Shingen shouted, the second half of the sentence lost to him, but Motonari ignored it. He didn’t want anyone knowing he had a crush on Nobuna, who was years his junior.

And his son, Kagetaka, was likewise smitten with Nobuna—so the two of them were a pair of nuisances.

Naturally, that troublesome son, Kagetaka, was in the fight too.

He flapped his two-legged bird midair, pushing his bangs aside—but it was pointless, sprinting atop a galloping skybird.

He shouted toward Nobuna.

“Fufufu! I’ll protect you, my lord Kagetaka!”

Behind the Mizuho forces bursting from the fortress, three units ran in tandem—Nobuna and her brother Kanetsugu, and Kagetaka’s own unit.

“Kagetaka! You’re supposed to be guarding Kanetsugu’s unit! Get your role straight!”

“U… well, I’ll protect you too!”

“Stop treating me like a burden!”

Let’s clarify the three units.

First, Kagetaka O’Brien’s unit was made up of ordinary samurai armed with bows and swords.

Numerous in number, but few bore the samurai crest—just a standard Mizuho infantry unit. Kagetaka himself carried the samurai crest, but his skill was average. Not weak by any means, but utterly unremarkable—just another mass-produced warrior.

In short, a regular unit.

Of course, the Mizuho troops themselves were strong—had been training hard with stamina potions downed by the jug during their stay at Golden Dune, making them undeniably elite compared to the kingdom’s average soldiers. But Kagetaka didn’t deviate from that standard.

To Mizuho’s measure, he was just… normal. Nothing special.

Kagetaka’s unit’s task was to serve as direct escort—protective detail—for Kanetsugu Wilhelm’s Onmyō unit.

Kanetsugu’s force was made up of those bearing the Onmyōji crest—the Empire’s equivalent of a magic corps.

A group of mages who used the special summoning technique known as familiar spirits. Of course, they were terribly weak in hand-to-hand combat.

Kagetaka saw this escort mission as a proud duty—protecting an important Onmyō unit. That wasn’t wrong in itself. But the role Shin gen and Motonari had in mind for Kagetaka’s unit? A living wall. No room for family ties. No room for human feeling.

Then there was Nobuna’s unit—small in number.

Of course. To balance the rarity of Nobuna’s Onmyō Zamuurai insignia, her force was small. A lean, elite group. All warriors who could fight with sword or bow, bearing the Onmyōji crest, but still rare.

Nobuna’s unit was assigned command over these three squads, protection of Kanetsugu’s Onmyō force, and expected to perform as an Onmyō unit in battle.

In an emergency, they were secretly ordered to sacrifice Kagetaka’s unit as bait, and retreat with Kanetsugu’s force too.

What was expected of the Onmyō unit wasn’t offense—it was defense.

And right away, the moment to fulfill that duty arrived.

◆

Among the Mizuho warriors led by Shingen, Hanbee, and Motonari, the elite squad charged headlong into the vanguard of the monsters approaching Doom Keep.

Shingen’s unit led the way, spear at the front. A moment later, Hanbee and Motonari’s units plunged into battle. The air turned instantly thick with the stench of blood.

“Gwahahaha! Not bad—this enemy’s got real bones!”

He laughed, but every swing of Shingen’s massive cross-spear sliced through monsters like twigs, sending them flying.

“Gwahahaha! That hard misril spear from Lord Leifan? Absolutely splendid!”

It was the weapon gifted by Kyle, a ten-pointed spear forged with all of Leifan’s soul—bigger than usual, tailored to Shingen’s frame.

“Cheeeestoooooo!”

Hanbee, cutting ahead alongside Shingen, swings his hard misril spear. This one’s made by Verund, Leifan’s master, and is no less a masterpiece than Leifan’s own creation.

“Father! It’s not just the weapon’s quality. Craft’s Sharpness Oil is incredible, too!”

Of course. Every soldier was issued Sharpness Oil. It barely works on orichalcum weapons, but on misril gear? It’s more than effective.

Still, the ones reaping the greatest benefit are the warriors following behind.

Their Mizuho blades are sharp, sure, but still just steel. Top-tier for iron, yes, but there are limits. Apply Sharpening Oil, though, and the edge improves dramatically—less strain on the blade during combat, meaning they can keep that sharpness all the way through the fight.

Hanbee watches his men slice through monsters like paper, a vicious grin spreading across his face.

“Gwahahaha! Back to your wild-eyed look from the old days, Hanbee!”

“Not fond of digging up old sins, but today, I can’t hold back the spark of youth!”

“Good! Go wild, then!”

“Yessir!”

These days, Hanbee’s all calm and collected—like the very picture of a man worn down by hardship. But when he was about Nobuna’s age? He was a wild, untamable rascal.

He felt a bit embarrassed at being called out on his rowdy past, but after months of nothing but defense, the chance to fight on such a massive scale had him itching. His blood was boiling, pushed to the edge.

A little behind those two rascals came Motonari. Just as Shingen had said, he was a warrior who valued wisdom over brute force.

Still, unlike Kagetaka, he was no slouch in battle. He cut down monsters while keeping a cool eye on the whole battlefield, like he was seeing it from above.

“Kukuku… left flank’s weak. You fool, Hanbee—your vision’s gone narrow, haven’t it?”

Motonari muttered, shifting his troops to the left, thickening the attack.

Amidst all this, he notices the monsters are wounding soldiers, causing stragglers to fall behind. Of course, Shingen and Hanbee know it too. They just ignore it.

“Hmph. You’re leaving it to me, huh? Honestly…”

Muttering complaints, he barks orders to his troops.

“Find every wounded man—slap on a Healing Potion! Scratch or slice, doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about the supply! This is an order!”

His men immediately start dousing Healing Potions like water, no one dropping out, every injured soldier back on the front line in seconds.

Watching this, Motonari shudders.

The Mizoho Shrine Nation has few alchemists. And compared to the Empire or the Kingdoms, their skill is laughably poor. That’s why healing potions were precious—soldiers weren’t even allowed to use them.

"Seriously... do those fools even realize how abnormal this is?"

Motonari remembered the war preparations. The number of Healing Potions stockpiled at Doom Fortress was enough to last for centuries by the standards of the Mizoho Shrine Nation.

And they could just refill it instantly via the Great Bridge if they ran low. The sheer shock of that was beyond words.

"Evening Alchemist Craft... a terrifying man."

Thinking of the alchemist who could flip tactics into strategy with a single gesture, Motonari shivered down his spine.