Where there was once miles of rolling plains, there was now a scar upon the earth. The funeral pyre for such a battle had been massive. The ashes of thousands of men – both enemy any ally – coated the earth. A strong easterly win would carry clouds of them up at a time, blowing them back towards the sea.
The men said the last of their prayers and they marched deeper into Takeda territory, towards the capital.
"I must say, it takes a weight off my shoulders knowing my people are no longer under threat," Yamagata said. He had only just barely managed to make it into the saddle and his face had gone back to being a sickly pale blue.
"That weight hasn't disappeared yet for me," Gengyo admitted. "But it is indeed one less thing to worry about… And now I must execute the son of a man that I respect."
