That night.
Two torches stuck in the cracks of the earthen wall were alight, the flames flickering weakly, a great big banner with the character "Li" unfurls in the wind above the campgrounds.
In the viscous night, as dark as ink, riding on a Black Mane Warhorse and wearing a black eye patch, Fujiwara's lips were tightly pressed together.
Behind him were several hundred Japanese soldiers armed with swords, spears, and bows, lying prone on the slopes, silent as crows scattered across the hills and fields.
The sound of the plowed earth whispered, and the night raid team, handpicked by Konishi Yukinaga, spread out like the dark shadows that swiftly envelop after sunset, rushing towards the Ming Army Camp!
Fujiwara took the longbow passed to him by a subordinate, pulled out three feathered arrows from his quiver, aimed at the watchtower, his thumb pressing hard against the bowstring, his eyes filled with a chilling intent.
"Twang~"
