The dawn crept over the Nagano Stronghold, casting a soft, amber light across its barricades and watchtowers, transforming the hardened stronghold into something unexpectedly tranquil. Kazuichi found himself stirring awake on a makeshift cot in one of the stronghold's small barracks, feeling the weight of the previous days' journey lingering in his muscles. Yet, this morning felt lighter—almost serene—as though the stronghold itself was offering a rare moment of respite.
As he rose and stretched, Kazuichi could feel the ache in his arms and legs, each movement a reminder of the battles and travel that had brought him here. There was no rush today, no looming fight or urgent alliance to broker. Just time—a rare gift in a world where every hour seemed measured by survival.
