1214-02-16
The night in Ichi was even more beautiful than the day. The moon cast a serene glow over the city, its light blending with the sounds of dragons and other animals soaring through the wind. The hoots of owls and the occasional chirps of nocturnal birds softened the tension that hung in the air.
"Adachi... Adachi!" a voice called, snapping me back to the present.
Aoi stood before me, his posture stiff. "Seijoi ordered me to bring you to your post."
I saluted Aoi before descending from the wall of Ichi. The massive structure surrounded the city like an impenetrable barrier, though the ten thousand soldiers stationed here felt insufficient for what was coming. The walls were lined with bundles of rope and other supplies, their purpose unclear to me.
The city itself bustled, even in the late hours. Libraries sold books to eager children, their faces lit with excitement. Restaurants spilled warm, golden light into the streets, drawing in soldiers and civilians alike. At the heart of it all stood the cathedral—a towering structure that seemed to glow with the light of the Supreme Dragon.
The legend of the Supreme Dragon was one of awe. A single scale from its body could illuminate an entire city, a single thought could crush mountains, and its breath could bring destruction unimaginable.
I stepped into a small restaurant. Behind the counter stood a pale woman with striking white hair and black eyes. She greeted me nervously before offering a menu of traditional dishes. I handed her what little coin I had, grateful for the warmth and comfort the meal promised.
"You can have it for free," she said with a timid smile.
The meal was simple yet comforting, a fleeting reminder of home. Around me, other soldiers trickled in, their laughter and chatter filling the space as they sought solace in food and companionship.
"What's the enemy leader like?" one of the soldiers asked, leaning closer to his comrade.
"I heard he's a prince," the other replied. "Brown hair, golden eyes."
"The infamous prince of Ahk," someone else chimed in. "They say his family was cursed by the lion, which is why they have golden eyes."
"I heard he's weak—a failure to his family."
"Maybe," said another, "but if he lives up to the Warrior King Aldric's legacy, it'll make this battle far more interesting."
A murmur of agreement passed through the group, the room briefly falling into silence as thoughts of the impending battle weighed heavily on everyone's minds.
Ring. Ring.
The bell echoed across the city—a familiar, urgent sound that stirred us all into motion. It signaled what we had long been preparing for. Soldiers rushed to their posts, the clang of armor and hurried footsteps filling the streets as the city braced itself. Half of our forces were out beyond the walls, and those of us remaining were the last line of defense.
I sprinted toward the gate, finding Seiji barking orders. His voice was drowned by the rising cacophony—the clatter of weapons, the stomping of boots, and the distant thrum of marching. The night seemed to blur, every sound and movement merging into one overwhelming sensation.
This was combat.
This is war.
The noise grew louder and louder as I stood inside the gate, heart pounding with each passing second. Why were we fighting? The question gnawed at me, insistent and unanswered. Why were we enemies? Was it because they worshiped the Lion while we revered the Supreme Dragon? Was it over lines we had drawn in the dirt, borders as fragile as our lives? Why were we risking everything—our lives, our people, our city?
Whoosh.
The gate groaned open abruptly, the sound followed by the sharp scraping of metal and the rush of soldiers charging forward. I joined them, my breath quickening as we moved to meet the enemy.
Atop a small hill, their forces came into view. Around five thousand men stood in formation, their red leather uniforms gleaming beneath black and silver armor. Their helmets bore engraved cross-like symbols on the sides, faintly glowing under the pale moonlight.
Seiji stepped forward, facing them. Their general mirrored his movement.
But he wasn't the man I had imagined.
He didn't have golden eyes or brown hair like the Warrior King Aldric. This was an older man atop a pale horse, his skin as white as bone. His hair and beard were a stark white, his eye a steely gray. He wore an eyepatch over his left eye. He reminded me of Seiji in a strange, unsettling way.
The general's voice was gruff, cutting through the tension. "Surrender, and you will be spared."
Seiji gripped his katana tightly, his knuckles whitening. He stood firm, his voice steady as he proclaimed, "This is our city. By the will of the Supreme Dragon, we will defend it."
Dragons flew in the sky above.
The general's lips curled into a smile. "Then heretics will perish."
Without warning, their soldiers surged down the hill in a coordinated charge, catching us by surprise.
"Face me in battle, coward!" Seiji roared, his blade raised as he braced for the onslaught.
The clash of swords, spears, and katanas filled the air. Our soldiers locked in desperate combat with the invaders. Seiji stood tall at the front, his blade flashing as he rallied us.
One by one, our lines began to falter. Blood stained the ground. Seiji's voice, once strong, was drowned by the screams of the wounded and dying. Then, I saw him fall.
With Seiji's fall, the soldiers' resolve broke. Cries of retreat echoed through the ranks as we turned and fled toward the city gates. Panic surged as the enemy pressed us, cutting down anyone who lagged behind. They didn't spare those wearing our colors, their blades merciless, but they left the citizens unharmed.
Inside the city, chaos reigned. Families huddled in their homes. Children clung to their parents. The streets became a battleground. I spotted the kids from earlier. Their faces pale with fear.
The restaurant I'd visited had its windows boarded up, but I could see shadows moving inside, the owners trying to protect their livelihood. The library's large windows had been shattered in the fighting, shards of glass scattered across the ground like stars.
As we tried to regroup, the enemy closed in. Their general was among them, but his steely presence faltered when an arrow struck him in the chest. He slumped from his horse, lifeless, his soldiers hesitating for only a moment before their charge resumed.
I swung my blade desperately, fighting to hold them back, but it wasn't enough. Around me, our forces were cut down one after another. My legs faltered as a blade struck my side, the pain blinding. I stumbled toward the library.
The soldiers moved through the city, binding those who had surrendered with thick ropes.
I heard one of them shout, "Those who surrender will be spared."
The words faded as my vision blurred.