EngelReise - Chapter 10

**Chapter 9 < | > Chapter 11**

Through hard training within the past days, Tomako is ready to undertake her mission to Kori Castle. She is to fool the Swatslandic into signing a fake treaty worthy of celebration; with the soldiers drunk, the Council of Five is to lead one massive attack on Korion. The success of the overall operation comes down to how well the pieces fall into place, but between Tomako's good planning and the samurai desire for battle, the day is to end in a truly climatic way.

## Chapter Reading

== Chapter 10 – *Rise, Imperyea!* =

With the passing of several days, Tomako had experienced much. Though it was not a relevant name in her life, she learned to write the name of Krucifix’s ruling dynasty. A very discomforting friendship had been formed between her and the Imperial Court Hero named Daigon. She familiarized herself with a story she would be using to fool the Swatslandic, and by extension, gained knowledge on some degree of politics. Then there was the night of her life, that is, a personal outing under the stars alongside Takeda Nagano, her early life crush. Were it not for her ‘fool’s quest,’ it would have been practically said and done on that night that Tomako would be entering into the Nagano family as a loving wife. Unfortunately, this was not to be, as the young Tomako now came to realize.

Truly, it was Takeda who knocked some sense into Tomako, or rather, opened her eyes to the more realistic situation at hand. No matter how far she ventures, even if she does find herself one day in the heartland of Svatpa’s Swatsland, there were many sacrifices coming her way. Otomo was the first sacrifice, Takeda’s heart the second; her home of Imperyea was next…

Though one might argue otherwise, Tomako was not completely blind to all of this, nor was she content with any of it. Alone in the library, the woman sat with a hand on her forehead. All preparations on her part had been met, thus leaving the Council of Five to their own preparations. With this, she was left with more personal matters to attend to.

*Where do I stand when even those who commit to their pot of honor beg me to call off the journey? What do the gods think of my quest..?*

It was hard for her to comprehend. She came from the common crowd of Imperyeans, almost all of whom subscribed to Puritonism, a faith that treated their pot of honor as a second currency. In religious practice, there was no reason followers of the faith would cast doubt on her journey, let alone condemn it. Yet through her travels thus far, Otomo, Daigon, and now Takeda spoke their disapproval.

From her point of view, this was a betrayal of immense magnitude. For as high of feelings as she had for Takeda Nagano, she not only took his actions as personal, she went as far as to view them as sacrilegious to the Puritonist faith he represented.

The woman clenched her fist and put it over the table, expressing a rare display of rage, “Why was Otomo so reluctant to let me go? Why did he not lend me more resources?” With a growing temper, she looked back toward the entrance. “Why did Daigon mock me? A samurai of such honor should, at the very least, praise my endeavors.” Then an even fouler face came upon her. “And if Takeda truly holds me to heart, as I do with him, why would he not assist me by promising to wait for me? Without his support, my return to Imperyea will be made more difficult!”

Finally, she breathed in and exhaled. Almost all heads in the library had been turned to her in surprise, for expressive anger was both rare and frowned upon in Imperyean society, especially for a woman. This, plus the fact she was complaining aloud to herself made for a bizarre sight.

Tomako put her thumbs together while attempting to calm herself, but of all the anger brewing inside her, one man acted as the breaking point that spilled the cauldron.

*The gods brought Takeda and I here, together, for a reason. I am to endure an honorable quest to retrieve my parents, and he assists in reclaiming Imperyea, honorably, whilst awaiting my return from Swatsland, also honorably..!*

Again expressing fury, Tomako dropped her chin over the table with two hands on her head; she did this while grinding her teeth. Takeda wasn’t the primary instigator for her angered feelings, but his lack of confidence in her return spoke a thousand insults to her. It wasn’t easy for her knowing that she had two choices: Birth and wife into the Nagano family—something both she *and* her father wanted, or to embark on a journey to rescue her already old family. Temptations did have her wishing to choose a Nagano marriage, but the call to rescue her parents was far too great in her mind. From her point of view, the gods would never let her pot of honor recover if she were to abandon her family; if she were to choose marriage with Takeda, the gods would make sure it is a sour marriage filled with affairs and other pains. For this reason, the journey felt rational to her.

With many more moments of contemplation, the inevitable argument did come to mind. No longer holding an angry face, Tomako soon frowned and lowered her shoulders. *Or am I walking the wrong path? After serving my parents so well for so long, might the gods be granting me autonomy? Might the abduction of my parents and Takeda’s convenient placement here beside me, in fact, be a reward of some kind..?*

She fervently denied this with a fist down, “The loss of my family is no reward.”

Her train of thought had then been interrupted by the sound of approaching armor and equipment. Tomako spun around to find Daigon making his approach on her. Having been called off his assignment to watch her, this was actually the first she had seen of the man since the Moon Dance Festival the other night.

“Woman,” he called.

Tomako dipped her head in frustration, “My name is Togami.”

“Sure.” The man took a step to the side and pointed to the entrance with his thumb. “The Council would like a word with you in the temple.”

“The Council? Why, they haven’t desired an audience with me since I arrived here.”

Daigon already turned to the entrance, “Come along.”

Tomako stood up and followed, but moved with conflicted emotion all over her face. Her negativity could be easily felt by Daigon, though he was unsure of what her issue might be. Either way, she was to make it known.

“Ahem. Daigon…” The woman put both arms behind her back and with a curious face. “I’ve been at thought, and I must ask… about my journey to Swatsland -”

He returned a simple shrug, “The fool’s quest.”

Tomako dropped her brows, “Yes, that one. If I may inquire -”

“The time to speak of your fool’s quest is not at hand. We must focus on our impending strike at Korion.”

As insisted upon, Tomako did not speak another word, though she was reluctant to stay silent. For all the help and effort she had been putting into this Korion operation, mutual respect was not yet coming her way. At the very least, she wanted to hear constructive arguments as to why she should choose desire over the honor of saving her parents.

Apparently, even this was too much to ask of at the moment.

“My goodness,” Tomako soon gasped.

Within the Council of Five’s temple, there existed a sort of room for war planning. What caught her eye, in particular, was the flawless replica of Korion’s castle sitting atop a table. Here she stood with two Great Lords, Daigon, and a few other high-ranking samurais. The two Great Lords present were of Dayaking and Craykon.

The Craykon Great Lord placed a small model carriage was placed near the castle entrance, “You will be delivered to Kori Castle hours past the afternoon. The carriage rider will hail the castle guards, your two ‘servants’ will dismount and protect you, then you await the inevitable meeting with Viceroy Harling.”

Tomako’s face became very serious, “Are we sure it is the viceroy himself who I’ll meet?”

The Dayaking Great Lord replied, “Quite certain, for he is who represents the Swatslandic emperor’s will herein Imperyea. When dealing with treaties, Harling should be the only one to deal with.”

The other Great Lord added, “But his claim of leadership over the Imperyeas is no more valid than manure is a luxury!”

Tomako did not jump into insulting the viceroy, instead focusing on the model carriage. From its current position by the gate, she would be traveling through several walls, each with archer towers and cannonry. From this model alone, she could understand why the reactionaries struggled in taking Korion, and above all, why they needed the cannon operators to become drunk.

The Craykon Great Lord brought up a small female figurine and put it atop the castle walls. This was where the woman lowered her brows in fear, for this put her close to the cannons, somewhere she knew a queen shouldn’t be.

He continued, “Let us assume all goes as planned. You sign the document, the Swatslandic drink in celebration, and then you are directed to a room for a safe night of rest. The sun sets and the moon shines ever so heavenly.” The Great Lord moved the female figurine along the castle walls, past some cannons, and to a ledge. “Your next and final objective will be to call for the commencement of an attack.”

“Wha—a!?” she panicked. “*Me?* O- Order an attack!?”

The Dayaking Great Lord brought out two items. The man held a candle in each hand; one was red, the other blue.

“You will be carrying these two candles. As the moon shines and all the honest folk rest, you must provide us with a statement. If the soldiers of Swatsland are intoxicated as we hope, you will light the *red* candle and place it over the wall. If the operation fails and the men remain sober, you will light the *blue* candle. On which side of the castle you place the candle does not matter, someone will see it.”

Daigon added, “Regardless of which candle you light, we will be attacking. We just need to know what the status of our enemy is.”

“Correct.”

Tomako looked up with innocent eyes, “And what happens after I light a candle?”

“This will require your better judgment. You can either stay in your appointed room until the attack is over, otherwise, attempt to remove yourself from the castle. I cannot ensure that you will be safe in the castle during the attack nor can I in the event that you choose to flee. The risk will exist, regardless of your decision.”

The woman exhaled, “This is becoming very complicated and very dangerous…”

“No battle in history was ever safe.”

With her part in the mission out of the way, the Dayaking Great Lord took control of the planning. Their attention was put off the model castle and simply onto the Great Lord.

“The sixth group of the Kushyrian Army has been designated the task of sabotaging all docked warships in Korion. Just as the attack on Kori Castle commences, we will burn all cannon ships and troop transports. The loss of these ships will, with any luck, cause significant damage to the Swatslandic economy and fighting resolve.”

A nearby officer inserted, “Not to mention, it is cannonry that has for long given the Swatslandic a decisive edge over us. By removing water cannonry, we are opposed only by the castle cannonry.”

The Great Lord continued, “As the ships burn and the soldiers belch with drunk exhaustion, our armies will strike deep into the heart of Kori Castle.” He pointed to specific areas of the castle model. “The armies of Kushyrin and Craykon will strike the most eastern point of the castle. Breach the walls, overcome the cannonry, and engage the enemy from within. Most importantly, we sever Viceroy Harling’s head and make surviving Swatslandic men stare at it.” Tomako squinted uncomfortably in response. “The armies of Hippinshu and Cheyprin will strike south and merge with the eastern armies in the event of a breakthrough. This leaves the massive Army of Dayaking to hold the town itself and disallow the entry of reinforcements, should any be near.”

The plan was coming together nicely and easy to understand for those in the room. Burn down the navy and then make a wild push into one side of the castle. With luck, the castle assault would be too overwhelming for the Swatslandic to stand their ground against. If Tomako’s side of the plan worked, the Swatslandic would also be tipsy.

“Once inside the castle, orders are to neutralize the remaining cannonry. Most importantly though, I say once more, the viceroy must be found and brought to justice for violating our sacred Imperyea.” He extended a hand to Tomako. “Under no circumstance should Tomako be harmed in the attack by Imperyean blood.”

Though an admirable command, Tomako was again left with surprised eyes at the mentioning of her true name. This was the second Great Lord to call her by ‘Tomako,’ and not ‘Togami,’ despite having used the latter name since leaving Kushyrin.

*How do they call me Tomako? The only one here who knows of the name is Takeda, but he couldn’t possibly have leaked my name so quickly…*

Yet the woman was too afraid to confront anyone on this matter. She remained still and with a dull expression, but her mind remained in the obscurity of the identity issue.

“The question is, are you ready, Tomako?”

With a silent gasp, Tomako looked up at the two Great Lords. All eyes in the room came upon her.

“Ready? Now?” Tomako placed five fingers on her chest. “To undergo the mission?”

The Craykon Great Lord explained, “There is no need to overextend our wait. On your mark, we can mobilize the armies in preparation for a glorious attack that history will remember well.”

“Oh…” She looked at the floor with a great feeling of pressure. “I designate this decision to you, oh Great Lord. I am ready to do my very best whenever you see fit.”

The Great Lords and officers exchanged glances around the room, except for Daigon, who sent Tomako an approving nod. In no time at all, the decision seemed unanimous.

“Then it is settled,” the Craykon Great Lord explained. “By morning, the flag of the Imperyean Empire will rise again over Kori Castle.”

The proclamation was met with applause from most, but not Tomako, who retained a somewhat horrified expression. A farmer going on an espionage mission followed by a great reactionary assault on Korion. Truly an event for the books, assuming they achieve victory.

Within the hour, Tomako found herself being garbed by various figures. Never had she felt so heavy as four thick layers of cloth covered her from shoulder to toe. Very little was done to Tomako’s hair aside from a good wash out of confidence that a Svatpean eye wouldn’t recognize Eastern royal hairstyle.

As two women worked on tightening her waist for a slimmer look, Tomako felt it necessary to ask, “What if the proposal for alcohol does not extend to soldiers and officers outside the castle?”

The Great Lord of Craykon replied, “Then we will fight sober soldiers, led by drunk leaders.”

“Will such be enough to declare a *successful* mission?”

A moment of hesitation came from the Great Lord; his eyes turned to Daigon for a moment, then back to her. “Potentially.”

“Potentially?”

More silence passed, to which the Great Lord breathed in and explained, “We’ve never had a gathering of warriors in this size, not since the days of true Imperyea. No matter the case, we *will* be attacking Korion.” His eyes became still for a moment. “My only fear is that if we are to fail, we will have lost far more than we could possibly imagine.” Tomako did not respond verbally but did with massive eyes. “The will of the Imperyean people to fight would sustain unspeakable damage, as would our available manpower. Failure could very well mean decades more of Swatslandic rule.”

The woman began to tremble, “U- Uh…”

Then, a gentle female voice came from one of the servants dressing her, “Excuse me, Great Lord.”

“Yes, what is it?”

Tomako was greatly offended as the female servant dared to grab her by the leg and force her foot up, “I don’t think – I’m not sure if – err…”

Before the servant could explain the problem, a very frustrated and sensitive Tomako complained, “S- Stop touching me..!”

The servant pointed to Tomako’s foot and said, “There is a deformity in the foot.”

Everyone in the room but Tomako grunted in a sudden panic, Daigon and the Great Lord closing in for a better look, to Tomako’s further frustration. Daigon barred his teeth in a very open display of concern, the Great Lord, however, remained rather calm.

“Ah, you have an overlapping toe… hm…”

In a surprising case of revolt, Tomako pushed the female servant away and rested her foot. “I broke my foot well over a decade ago, but don’t worry, it works fine.”

Daigon spoke critically, “Let us hope Viceroy Harling has no special admiration for a lady’s feet, else he may become suspicious.”

“What?”

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” the Great Lord insisted. “Instead of nail paint, we’ll simply put Tomako in socks. No one will notice.”

Nearly instant, the other female servant brought up two socks, “Socks, m’lord.”

“Tomako, if you will…” As requested, Tomako slipped out of her sandals and issued on the socks. “The problem is that no one of royal standing would possibly have a deformity in the foot, that is a sign of labor, not the lazy life of a queen or princess.”

“Ah.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend.”

The Great Lord left Tomako and Daigon with the two servants. Tomako’s suiting was almost complete and Daigon had himself thinking deep about the approaching fight. Ironically, no one could be more terrified of this upcoming battle than the one who wouldn’t even be holding a sword. The stakes were high for her considering that if she were to fail in her mission, the Swatslandic would face the reactionaries with a very conscious mind and full fighting resolve. Knowing that her own failure could result in the massacring of so many was traumatizing, and this included the possibility of many choosing to take their own life afterward. On the other hand, if she were to succeed, the chance of seeing the return of the Imperyean Empire would greatly increase. It was the very definition of a gamble.

Now in her Krucifixan monarch dress, Tomako slowly turned to Daigon, “Do you believe we’ll achieve victory?”

Daigon whistled, “This is a battle for the capital city of all places. Our record of victories in the Swats-Imperyean War was thin, and that’s with fully mobilized samurai armies. Now we’re facing an enemy with inexperienced men and weaponry found at the bottom of the barrel.”

“So, you doubt our chances…”

He snapped his fingers, “Not so fast. When a soldier is drunk, they become vulnerable even to a mere child. I believe your service could be what we need to start the fire that’ll eventually put the Swatslandic back in Swatsland.”

The woman nodded, but soon felt for her cheek and moaned, “I do not wish to be the reason behind mass suicide…”

Daigon breathed in and exhaled, both his eyes closed. He was conflicted on how to respond to this wish, and so he kept his eyes shut. “No *one* person will cause the failure of this attack. I, the Great Lords, and those fighting for the old ways of Imperyea share this responsibility with you.” He then opened his eyes again. “Take heart, Tomako. We all play a crucial part in achieving this goal. Even if you are to fail, what are we but a culture deserving of destruction if we cannot win a sober battle in the thick of night?”

This only comforted Tomako in the slightest, it ultimately did not suppress her mad desire for this all to be over. Daigon momentarily reached over for her original clothing and took Tomako’s sword, EngelReise, into his own possession. Their eyes again met after this.

“Under the Council’s order, I’m to retrieve this special blade. You will not be needing it for this mission.”

Tomako turned her head a slight bit, then with heavy feelings asked, “Will I have the sword returned to me afterward?”

As she expected, a pressured face came onto Daigon who then looked aside for a moment. His face spoke a thousand words to her.

“Perhaps not. But swords come and go, and believe me, there will be many katanas on the ground to pick from after this battle.”

She turned her head even more, now only showing one eye, “Even though this sword was granted to me as a gift?”

Daigon retaliated by turning his body as well, thus putting the two eye-to-eye. “This sword has and always will belong to the council. It is the sword of a *Great Lord*, not a mere farm girl.”

A moment of suspenseful silence ensued with Tomako giving him a dull stare. Soon, she lowered her eyelids and nodded down his comment.

“Alright.”

With this, the two departed out the door to commence the final step of preparation.

Not long after this, Tomako exited another structure alongside Daigon and in a dreary attitude commented, “This is the face of royalty?”

Daigon scoffed, “You needn’t speak so angrily; you look beautiful, Tomako.”

To finalize the queen disguise, Tomako had been masked with pink makeup and redder lips. This gave her a more expensive appearance and hid any sign of facial imperfection. Of course, this was still a Krucifixan design and therefore in the mind of Tomako Angel, the face that a royal barbarian would wear.

“Now, you are ready.”

With the passing of an hour or so, Tomako stepped forth in her outfit before a crowd of soldiers, countless in size. Many were present to see her off with honor, others were being given instructions by their respective island’s Great Lord. In the center of the action sat the finished carriage and two ‘Krucifixan’ guards.

The sun’s rays shined over her, leaving the woman to shield her forehead, but the sleeve of her dress was so long that it blocked her sight in the process. Daigon and his Craykon Great Lord escorted the woman toward the carriage.

“Have you ever seen such a sight, Tomako?” the Great Lord asked.

Tomako moved her sleeve aside on their walk, watching as thousands of men and women alike of the warrior class shouted cries of war and praise into the air. Death scared no one in this crowd, the aspiration to take Korion back from the Swatslandic was too great for trembling.

“No, never,” she soon answered.

The Great Lord waved to the thousands of warriors, “The Swatslandic have easily put down our small unorganized attacks on Korion in the past, but never could they expect an attack of this size and plan. Not to mention, they will not expect this attack considering one so recently occurred. With any luck, they’ll be too drunk to comprehend what’s happening anyway.” Tomako slowly eyed the man and nodded. “Remember, it will be up to your best judgment whether to propose the drinking festivities, but doing so may sound rude and unorthodox, especially for a woman.”

Tomako nodded again and swallowed, “My fear has been that signing the vassalage document may not be as simple as writing a mere name.”

“Nonsense. As a man who has both composed and signed off on past treaties, I can assure you that such will not be the case.” Her look of doubt remained as he began to walk off. “Remember, we’re counting on you.”

The Craykon Great Lord left to join up with his army of Craykon warriors. Daigon, hailing from Craykon, would be joining them, but first, he guided Tomako to the carriage. A swift hand gesture was made to the two ‘Krucifixan’ guards by Daigon, and so both men mounted the carriage.

With this, Daigon faced Tomako and said, “The carriage is ready and the sun lowering with every passing moment.” He begrudgingly held her hand as an offer of assistance, which she took. The woman climbed aboard the carriage and placed herself in the back. “Tomako Angel, may the gods protect and guide your soul on this mission.”

Tomako returned a gracious nod, but lectured, “You should save the sentiment for your men; I’m not the one who risks losing their life tonight.”

“Or so you believe.” Daigon followed his reply up with silence, but soon gave her a second reply, “I will share similar word with the men.” Then, at last, he turned to the carriage riders with an order. “Ride!”

At Daigon’s command, the ‘Krucifixans’ ordered the carriage forth. This was met with cheering from the mass, though the applause did not have any significant effect on Tomako for reasons even she couldn’t quite comprehend.

Daigon, the Great Lords, officers, and soldiers all watched as the carriage picked up speed, and before they knew it, Tomako was out of sight. It was only after this moment that the Craykon Great Lord returned to Daigon’s side.

“Daigon.” The samurai hero turned to his liege. “You’re being assigned a special position in the Craykon Army.” His initial response was to raise a brow in the wake of an unexpected promotion. “And yes, it involves Tomako.”

During that not so distant travel to Korion, Tomako found herself thinking more about the events of recent past rather than the mission coming right up. Comforted with cushions and protected by two very lethal guards of ‘Krucifix,’ there were few better places to sit and think.

*They now know me as Tomako Angel, Daigon became much more respecting of me, meanwhile, Takeda acted dishonorably toward me, making me choose between him and family. What exactly is going on..?* Then looking out at the carriage guards, she was met with a cold piece of reality. *And what am I doing? Acting as a spy so that Imperyeans can clash with the Swatslandic yet again. Have I lost my mind or is this what the gods have decided for me..?*

The truth be told though, Tomako really was lost in her adventure. The big blockage had come to be the water dividing Imperyea from Krucifix; so long as she remained in Imperyea, her journey would go nowhere. She did want to help her Imperyean people regain their independence, but she also needed this battle to be a victory so that the Council could get her to Krucifix. These two things were what would ensure she puts her heart into the mission.

Becoming ever so nervous, Tomako chewed on her finger. *Do I really hold the knowledge and character needed to fool the Swatslandic government? To be a viceroy, Harling must be a very intelligent man…*

Only now did the harshest of reality strike her; make one simple mistake on this mission, and her journey could be ended due to prison, that is assuming her sentence would be merciful. This thought served as an additional reason to be careful and put on a convincing act, knowing that she would not get a second chance at this journey.

She was working a profession far off from farming and even farther from horseback training. Try as hard as she might, Tomako wasn’t expecting herself to play the perfect Krucifixan queen, but hopefully just convincing enough to see her through this.

Within that hour, the people of Korion laid witness to a truly fascinating sight; Shimuan aristocracy, as they would be made to believe. The carriage containing Tomako traveled smoothly through the streets of Korion with only the occasional craters from past battles rocking them. The citizenry, Swatslandic, and hidden reactionaries alike watched from alleys, structures, and merchant structures.

Tomako, frightful of what the general response would be to the carriage, tried her best to stay low through the travel. Their destination of Kori Castle was just ahead and the sight of such a well-fortified fortress enforced some shock damage to her morale. The idea that her samurai brethren would successfully breach the sloped castle walls all of a sudden seemed less possible.

With what final minutes remained, Tomako closed her eyes and painted a mental image of the name ‘Taiji’ in her head. There were a lot of places in this mission where she could mess up without the operation turning into a colossal failure, but failure to write one’s own name would be a giveaway. Fortunately, her days of practice brought forth confidence in that she could pull the document signing off. Thus, it all came down to her putting on a realistic show.

As the carriage soon coasted near the castle gate, the Swatslandic became alerted of their presence. Such was evident as two lightly-armored guards hailed them down, followed by a hand gesture ordering them to halt. Tomako’s heart raced in those coming seconds as her ride came to an abrupt halt.

The two Swatslandic guards approached the carriage with their long spears but were stopped by two of the exact same. The ‘Krucifixan’ guards had gotten off the carriage with spears of their own, and thus a silent standoff existed between the two groups. With their only orders being to guard the perimeter, the guards of Swatsland merely contained the situation without any intention of speaking or attacking. Tomako watched frantically, just waiting for something to go wrong.

From the upper portion of Kori Castle, members of Swatsland’s hierarchy took quick note of the developing situation at the gate. Most notably, of course, was the viceroy himself, who observed with his fellows in his rich red outfit.

In a silent tone, Harling spoke to his aide, “…they do not appear hostile, just protective of the carriage.”

“Quite the fanciful carriage, at that,” a bureaucrat added.

“Yes…” His observation of the scene shifted entirely onto the idle carriage. “Green and white. What faction do they belong to?”

An aide curled his lips and replied, “Well, Sir Viceroy, there are a number of Svatpean nations using that scheme, but as we are in Shimua, I daresay that might be a diplomat from Krucifix.”

This answer left a puzzled expression on the viceroy, “Another? That cannot be, I’ve only recently spoken with a Krucifixan diplomat. A trade agreement of great merit was established and unless they come with an alteration I cannot understand this at all.”

“Perhaps this has nothing to do with the trade agreement.”

Harling turned with a hand to his back, quirked his mouth, and spoke sternly, “Let us see if this is worth our time, or merely a charade of some sort.”

The balance of power between guards had been broken in the coming few minutes, for Swatslandic infantry and archers had now begun to eye up the confrontation. Tomako was beyond intimidated by the surrounding soldiers but the two guards protecting her continued to stand without any display of fear. Had the Swatslandic any knowledge that these were disguised reactionaries, there would be bloodshed any moment now.

Tomako, still hiding in the carriage, looked up to the sun with anxiety as there was no indication of how long the wait would be before getting inside the castle. For that matter, there was no guarantee that she would get inside the castle at all. The *plan* was for her to be picked up like any other diplomat would. Given her position as ‘Queen’ of Krucifix, expectations held that she would also be granted a room to stay in. The reality, of course, could have her being immediately thrown in a prison on charges of conspiracy.

The woman’s eyes remained centered on the sun until one of her guards turned in through the carriage window. Tomako met the guard’s call for attention with a frightened stare.

“It’s time,” he said before turning out again.

“Time? Time for what!?”

Viceroy Harling had appeared at the gate. Now with a humble black cape, the viceroy found himself approaching the carriage with spearmen to his flank. Meanwhile, one of the two ‘Krucifixan’ guards assisted Tomako onto the ground. Harling felt that he was in a position of authority, that is until he caught sight of Tomako. From that moment, a bolt of surprise ravaged his bones, yet he continued forward.

Tomako positioned herself between her own two guards with both hands hidden between sleeves. The two Swatslandic guards who originally stopped them had now stepped aside for the approaching viceroy and *his* guards.

*That must be Viceroy Harling…* Tomako gawked for a moment at the most hated man in all of Imperyea but quickly corrected herself. *I’m only so fortunate that Otomo’s not here beside me, he’d take the opportunity and jump at the viceroy with a weapon…*

Tomako tried to apply immense weight to her eyes, wishing to refrain from looking around. As far as anyone was concerned, she was a diplomatic professional who was unamused by such lowly people. The viceroy retained a strong gaze on the woman, practically engaging her in a duel of serious faces. Then came his final steps, where he soon stood before the woman in speaking range. This was where a serious Harling became humble.

“May God shower you in flower petals of harmony and water down your misfortunes, m’lady.” The man began to offer a bow but ultimately canceled it, still wishing to appear like a man of equal or greater rank. “I do not believe we’ve met before nor have I been informed of any dynastic visitors. May I have the privilege of knowing you?”

Tomako struggled to open her lips, the issue being a lack of information. The first name of the Krucifixan queen had slipped her mind as did that of the king. Quick action had to be taken, else she risked blowing the mission due to a simple sentence.

“I am the wife to His Majesty… the King of Krucifix…” Try as she may sound professional, her response lacked confidence.

Yet the man responded with shock. “The Queen of Krucifix. Here before me?” Tomako nodded in silence, and past this, the man was left with an intimidated face. “I- I wasn’t informed of - goodness gracious…” He finally gave Tomako a swift bow; the swiftness would come off as rude to actual royalty, but Tomako knew not of royal mannerisms. “Of course, I must beg forgiveness, m’lady. I will rightfully so punish those responsible for failing to warn me.”

“Erm… don’t..!” Both he and her own guards responded with confused faces. “My visitation was by request of His Majesty, the King of Krucifix, on short notice. The error may, in fact, be on our part.”

Her defense of Swatslandic officials left only her two guards with disapproving faces, but as always, Tomako’s grudge was not against the Swatslandic, let alone innocent messengers.

Moving past this awkward moment, Tomako dared to ask, “Might I know your name? …and title?”

The man blocked an irritable face from taking form, “Eugh… I suppose it is fair enough that the queen of all Krucifixans knows not of my name and legacy.” He put a hand to his torso and explained, “I am Viceroy Harling, appointed governor in the Viceroyalty of Imperyea.”

“Well met, sir.” An awkward silence ensued for a couple of seconds, only for Tomako to then notice an open hand below her. “…oh..!” She accepted his handshake.

“Please, allow yourself into our castle, my dearest.”

Harling turned away just in time, for Tomako’s two guards responded with hostile faces at the mentioning of ‘our’ castle. Tomako would remain calm when moving with Harling and his two guards. With this, the injection had been made; now the operation would take a turn toward the signing of a treaty—arguably the hardest part.

In those coming few minutes, the four—Tomako, Harling, and his two guards—toured down the halls of the lowest castle floor. The woman couldn’t help but leak some astonished behavior as she gazed upon the very walls of ancient Imperyea, the capitol building of her homeland no less. For all she knew, she could be the first and last of the Angel House to walk these halls.

While walking, Harling explained, “This city has existed for well over a thousand years, believed to have been built by the ancient Chiefdom of Imper.” He adjusted his glasses and gave Tomako a smile. “Of course, the Imperyeans chose Korion as the capital since it faces the peninsula of your country, which as you know, they believe belong to their people. A delusion the Imperyean people, of course, hold strongly but can no longer act on, not when under my leash.” He eyed up the woman for a moment to see if his kissing up won over any favors.

Tomako only acknowledged this with a nod, “This castle is culturally incredible. I do wonder where, if any, royal horses are held…”

But Harling essentially missed this sentence, instead resorting to more kissing up, “It is ironic, is it not? For centuries, the Imperyeans have tried to seize control of your peninsula, hoping that one day their emperor and empress could walk *your* castle halls.” He clapped his hands together with a smirk. “Now, in the modern day, it is the Queen of Krucifix who walks *their* halls. You didn’t even have to spill any Krucifixan blood in the process, yet you find yourself in the capital of your greatest enemy. Funny, is it not?”

“Truly, a spectacle...”

With their walk continuing for a few more moments, Harling lowered his warm attitude in place of suspicion. They walked, but with his confused eyes locked on her.

“Forgive me, but, I really should inquire the nature of your walk here today?” He followed this up with a shrug. “So recently your government had a diplomat dispatched here to conduct a trade agreement. Now, I find the Queen of Krucifix before me?”

Tomako dodged a fearful reaction and ever so professionally responded, “That is because I come here on a more serious matter. A matter of which pertains to the sharing of realms.”

Harling stopped moving and his glasses lowered down near his nostrils while giving her a skeptical stare. “What… have you come to propose..?” he asked half interested, half skeptical.

There, a moment was taken to think, more so, to remember the story she was supposed to be following.

She threw herself into the fray, prepared to give it her best, “Given the Swatslandic presence in Shimua, the ruling dynasty of Krucifix has agreed that in order to create a more prosperous world, and by extension, a more peaceful world, it is only reasonable that Krucifix makes a bid for entry into the Swatslandic Empire as a vassal.”

Tomako swiftly looked away and exhaled with wide eyes and a beating heart; her words came out practically verbatim to what she had been told to say, and in truth, she hardly understood much of it. Harling, however, was left grunting and on the tip of his toes. His guards made no change of face to this announcement, but to Harling, the proposed offer was an ocean of gold sent straight from the heavens.

The viceroy, still speechless, looked to the floor with a shaking head. “You mean to tell me that the King of Krucifix wishes to voluntarily join the Swatslandic Empire?”

Tomako swallowed, then with a slight smile, expressed, “To cultural friendship and a greater world than we presently know.”

There the viceroy continued to stand without words and without much expression. Though his face did not show much, inside, he was jumping for joy at the prospect of a union state. It was impossible to imagine what kind of reward the Emperor of Swatsland would give the viceroy in exchange for bringing such a large part of Shimua into the empire. It was an opportunity he couldn’t miss.

Following a few moments of flabbergasted muttering, the viceroy shouted, “Guards!” Both men struck their spears down, acknowledging the call. “F- Fetch me paper! *Now*! And gather my present bureaucrats in the audience chamber I haven’t the time for fiddling!” As his guards hurried away, Harling reached for his temple with gritted teeth. “Oh great, where am I to find an artist and writer at this hour?”

“An artist and writer?”

Harling nodded, “It is imperative that someone capture and chronicle the great moment where the Queen of Krucifix and Viceroy of Imperyea meet and establish an unthinkable union state between Imperyeans, Krucifixans, and Swatslandic.”

The two continued their walk through the castle, Tomako did so with partial relief in her mind, but still fear. As planned, the viceroy wanted Tomako to sign off on a legal agreement right away, one that would see both Imperyea *and* Krucifix as vassals to Swatsland. With Swatsland stationed in mainland Shimua, all neighboring nations would be put under risk of invasion. It was the dawn of an *Eastern Swatslandic Empire*, one comprised of Shimuans and likely all controlled by Harling, should he find a way to scam the King of Krucifix out of any power. It was a great moment for Viceroy Harling.

Unfortunately for the viceroy, this was all fake. The painting he wished to commission would be of an Imperyean farmer signing an illegitimate document, not a Krucifixan queen in any sense.

Soon, the moon came up and the sun nowhere in sight. Kori Castle had become a spectacle throughout all of Korion. With almost every hallway in the castle glowing with light, it was evident to anybody that something significant was occurring. Citizenry could only guess as to what this meant. The Swatslandic soldiers present in the city could either guess or assume based off whispering. Then there were the reactionaries, including the hidden armies, who now knew exactly what was going on. By now, the Council of Five would know that a treaty signing was to go into effect, the first step toward a success. The question then came to be whether a treaty signing would convert into alcoholic celebration.

Far out in the grassy fields of Korion, a fully-armored Daigon observed the castle with great interest. His Great Lord liege plus the thousands of soldiers hidden in the grass awaited a red or blue candle. They knew, however, that if the signing of a treaty was going on now, they would not receive a candle message for another few hours.

Daigon, reaching through the eyes of his dragon mask, wiped off some sweat. “Don’t mess this up, woman…”

Tomako meanwhile stood alone in a large chamber with surrounding officers, generals, advisors, and ministers to Viceroy Harling. The viceroy himself stood by a table, anxiously waiting for one of his advisors to conclude the final draft of a treaty. The advisor worked as fast as he could, understanding just how big of a gain this treaty would make.

The posing queen was so fortunate as to be left alone by everyone in the room, with only the viceroy checking on her from time to time. No one was foolish enough to risk offending the one proposing that Krucifix become a vassal.

With his foot tapping and a forehead dripping with nervousness, the viceroy roughly grabbed his advisor by the shoulder. “Come off it, how long does this take?”

“Well, Sir Viceroy. When conducting such a treaty, one must be cautious of loopholes. The simplest error in writing could have Krucifix legally breaking free -”

“Idiot… fool..!” The viceroy whispered with a tug to the advisor’s neck. “…do not use such cruel terminology in front of the queen… We wish for her to believe that this treaty benefits Krucifix as much as it does us. To say ‘breaking free’ suggests containment, imprisonment, subjugation..!”

“My apologies, Sir Viceroy.”

Harling, now fearful of Tomako’s feeling on the matter, raced in front of her with open arms. “So sorry, Your Highness. I’m sure you’re familiar with the complexity of document drafting.”

Tomako nodded, “Yes… yes, indeed.” Then after exhaling, she asked, “When might I expect this drafting to be finished?”

“Oh god, she is losing patience..!” he exclaimed aloud. “Meredich!” he shouted back at the advisor, “Where are we with the treaty!?”

The advisor raised himself, “Well, I’ve run into some legal complications, hence the struggle.”

“What!?”

“Well, as we are dealing with realms, the issue arises that the actual title holder—the *King* of Krucifix—is not present to sign off on this treaty.” Tomako was the one to widen her eyes, but only for a moment. “Fortunately, since there is no actual passing of titles occurring, the Queen’s name should suffice, so as long as I’ve composed this correctly.”

The viceroy swiped his hand through the air, “Enough of this! Is it in ready enough condition?”

“U- Uh…” The advisor darted his eyes around in a panic. “It hasn’t been proofread or even -”

“Come, Your Highness, the treaty is ready.” He led Tomako toward the table in a way that discomforted her. “Please, please, please. Sit.”

The advisor reluctantly stepped away from the document, allowing Tomako to seat herself with Harling observing from her side. As she long expected, the document would come off to her as a shocking amount of gibberish, as in, random characters and symbols she did not recognize. During her act as queen, she had almost completely forgotten that she was illiterate for a moment.

The viceroy pointed to the document, “Go ahead and read the terms, then if you truly desire to join our righteous empire, sign your dynasty name below.”

Then came Tomako’s first major error of the night, for she went straight to the empty line at the bottom of the page as a very first action. Many, the viceroy included, were caught off guard by her rushed decision to go for the signing.

“Forgive me for doubting your immaculate wisdom and talent, m’lady, but…” Harling squinted at her, “You… couldn’t have possibly read the entire document already…”

“Read..?”

Tomako gulped, and with a nervous eye up at him sought a way out of this situation. This wasn’t at all a simple case of pretending to read too fast, this was her just skipping it all. Harling kept his brow raised and Tomako kept the feather being used to write by the empty line. She sprawled desperately for an answer to this conundrum.

“You are taking this seriously, correct?” Harling puckered his lips and narrowed his eyes.

The woman gave the document another look, at first pretending to read, but then canceling this action seconds later. Out of desperation, she placed on a warm expression with a thought in mind.

“The reason for this is because… I needn’t read the document.”

“Oh?”

She nodded, “There is no reason to doubt that the terms are fair. We are both honorable sorts seeking prosperity for one another. Let us sign off on this agreement so that…” with a frantic look of dare, Tomako suggested, “So that we may celebrate the occasion. I’ve heard stories that the people of Swatslandic are legendary for their celebrations… and alcohol.”

Many glances were exchanged around the room, including guards and soldiers present. Amongst those looking around was Viceroy Harling himself, who after a few glances at his top men looked back to Tomako. The woman was ready to break into a monstrous tremble, for she was trying to both shake herself out of the reading error while also pushing her agenda forth.

Soon enough though, the viceroy brought his hands together and said, “Of course, all of Korion will be celebrating within the hour, Swatslandic and Imperyeans alike for that matter. As for our beer…” he chuckled while shaking, “Well, there is a reason we are a top exporter of beer. No sense buying salty Victorian ale when you can grab from the Swatslandic.”

“Exactly!” Tomako cheered.

With this said, a now very tense Tomako looked back down at the empty line, breathed in, and began to write with a breath held back. She worked hard in writing the name ‘Taiji’ both quickly and efficiently. Despite having done this hundreds of times, this particular attempt was the hardest for her simply out of pressure alone.

The viceroy watched with two lowered brows as she finished writing the name. Tomako concluded the process by looking up at him for reception. The wait for his response was unbearable, irrational fears having Tomako believe that a mere word might land her in prison or worse in the next minute.

“Mm—m, very good.” Tomako smiled with immense relief. “Now, if you will simply write ‘Yes’ in that space, we can move forward with destiny.”

Tomako’s head came down at the document with a rapidly beating heart and very wide eyes. Indeed, there existed a second blank line within the article of text, this one much shorter. The woman brought the feather over this line but hadn’t a clue what to do beyond this. Her face froze with horror.

“…yes..?”

“Mhm. The question of whether you accept the single term that you, or the King of Krucifix, live up to the expectations of the Emperor of Swatsland. Such is the duty of a vassal. Yes or no.”

Her eyes remained still on the empty line. With such a simple response to give, any hesitation to write was going to come off as very suspicious. As simple as ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ was to write, it was still knowledge Tomako lacked. She hadn’t a clue what to do.

The viceroy tapped his foot a few times while waiting for this very menial task to be completed. Tomako’s mind raced quickly, the only real information she had on writing coming from the conversation she had with Daigon about connecting segments of a word. With this in mind, all she could guess was that the characters making up ‘Yes’ was all connected with no separation. All she could do was make a blind attempt.

With nearly closed eyes, Tomako composed *true* gibberish over the line. Harling briefly widened his eyes in response to what he was seeing, and seconds later, found Tomako’s answer over the line. Without a word to speak, Tomako closed her eyes tightly and moved the feather away from the paper.

“Y- Yes!” Tomako stated.

The viceroy took the document into his hand, desiring a better look at the response. Tomako still refused to open her eyes, fearing the worst that may come.

“Um…” Harling, clearly frustrated, scratched his head with a free hand. “This… is the worst handwriting… I have ever seen. Absolutely horrid, I’m sorry to critique.” Tomako opened one eye, now thinking of what she could say to justify this horrible error. “But, it is nonetheless valid to me. It is your word of approval and that’s all that matters.”

Tomako, caught off guard by this, raised her head and grunted. A handshake was made in those coming moments followed by high applause throughout the room. The viceroy raised her hand up into the air.

“Look upon this moment with honor,” he said. “For the first time in history, the rival nations of Krucifix and Imperyea have joined forces under a single Swatslandic banner! Peace from Great Swatslandia!”

Tomako’s heart raced, stopped, and raced again with every few moments; the cheering and motion around her were almost disorienting, mixed in with the fact that she escaped that treaty due to merely having ‘poor handwriting.’

Now came the final part of her operation.

That same night, Korion had been brought as much life as one would expect during the day. Under instruction by high command, Imperyeans and Swatslandic soldiers alike were hosted throughout the town with feasts. The unification of Imperyea and Krucifix into one large Eastern Swatslandic Empire was something for the Swatslandic bureaucracy to celebrate, but for the Swatslandic military, it just meant more Shimuan land to occupy. As for the Imperyeans, this news merely reinforced the idea that they would never be free of their Swatslandic masters, however, they would not reject the festivities being offered.

The common soldier of the street were the ones dipping into excessive alcohol, exactly what the Council of Five was hoping for. As for the inhabitants of Kori Castle, the drinking was less significant; instead, fancier goods were being served, such as wine. This wouldn’t help the reactionaries with their attack on the castle itself, but with the city garrison undergoing heavy drinking, they could at least be assured of an easy enough fight *leading* to the castle.

Within the same audience chamber that the signing took place in, Viceroy Harling and many of his bureaucrats stood around with fancy glasses of wine and other alcoholic beverages in their grasp. Tomako, meanwhile, was observing many of the Swatslandic portraits hanging around the room. She found herself genuinely interest in the Svatpean art style.

“Ah, Your Majesty.” Tomako quickly turned to find Harling behind her. “Admiring our art style, or curious with the persons portrayed?”

She looked back at the portraits, “A bit of both, to be honest. I’m… very impressed by the emphasis on realism.” Tomako squinted at a portrait and hummed. “Although, I’m a little bothered by the shading. Shade on the cheeks, clearly, but I can’t help but see dirt…”

The viceroy twitched at her, “…heh… you’re quite the critic…” Moving past this, he pointed toward the portrait with his drink. “These particular men are colonial generals of the Swatslandic Empire. Each is in charge of regional military affairs and the handling of… well…” he turned his head away for a moment, “…the… *promotions and transportation* of Imperyean farmers to the Swatslandic Empire—in Svatpa.”

Tomako’s eyes truly widened for a moment, “Slavers?”

“U- U- Uh..! We prefer not to use that term, m’lady. These men pick and choose which farmers of Imperyea are worthy enough to work the farms of Swatsland.”

Her invisible temper was escalating, “So, they are slaves to Swatsland.”

The man continued to dodge this claim, “N—No—o… You mistake ‘slave’ and ‘distinguished individual,’ with all due respect.” Tomako stared at the man, without emotion nor convincement. “A slave is chained and sold on a market while these families are put to the test of serving His Royal Highness, the Emperor, in the nation’s capital as workers of his grand plantation.”

Tomako struggled to keep her brows from dropping, and with hard effort, brought herself to nod in false agreement to his explanation. The man, acknowledging this, then pointed back to the portraits.

“And besides, these are very good men! Take General Noll, for instance. He oversees the rounding up of Imperyean farmers in Craykon to bring back to Swatsland and suppresses insurrections on the island. The man has a family back in Svatpa, has fought off the Victorian menace, and even makes charitable donations to the Church. His heart is pure and his soul pious.” Tomako stared at the portrait intensely, the viceroy, meanwhile, took a sip from his drink. “Then take Dayaking’s General Mourbon. While he’s out collecting Imperyeans from Dayaking and keeping insurrections down, the man also acts as a military diplomat to the two Copperblade nations in Svatpa. He has been decorated by the old King of Swatsland and now also the Emperor of Swa-”

In a low-pitched and soulless tone, Tomako asked, “…what of Kushyrin?”

“What was that? Kushyrin?” The man looked back to the portraits, failing to notice Tomako’s passionate face of temper. “Why, is Kushyrin of interest to you, m’lady?”

“Just a little…”

Harling extended his hand out to a portrait which featured a man sitting atop a horse with a storm behind him. Oval glasses, a black tunic, red cape, gold hair, thin mustache, and a thin beard going down to his throat. Such were the characteristics of the man being pointed at. Tomako’s eyes froze on the portrait with mixed feelings.

“Truly, a legendary man, if I do say so myself. He was *just* here a week ago but has recently taken leave for Swatsland.”

Tomako held her harsh feelings in, “Oh?”

“Yes, yes. *General Sandbuster*, as he is known. He manages which Kushyrin farmers are promoted and transported to Swatsland.” Tomako took a mental note of his name, and the portrait of him burned into her mind. “They say he was birthed over a mere pebble of an island near the land of Vikings, then distinguished himself in a series of glorious battles against the Victorians. He won the favor of the Emperor by, allegedly, bringing down an entire rebellion seeking to put a new monarch in power.”

“Sandbuster…” she muttered.

“Indeed. Does this information satisfy you?”

“Sa—andbuste-” Tomako closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded. “I was only curious.”

With those coming moments, a servant to Harling approached them. In the man’s hand was a beverage, which he then offered to the viceroy. Harling, in response, snapped his fingers before taking it into hand.

“Ah! Would Your Majesty like a taste of Swatslandic brewed beer?” Tomako looked down at the beverage with somewhat nervous eyes. “It comes straight from the mountains of our peninsula.”

With reluctance, Tomako took the glass into her hand, “I do not often drink beer, but I’ll give it a try on this occasion.”

Harling watched with great curiosity as Tomako sipped the beer, technically her first time ever tasting alcohol, and she very much underestimated its strength. Try as she may to gun down a portion of the beer, Tomako found her left eye watering in response to its power. Soon, she was forced to swallow what she could down and cringe. Respectfully acknowledging her dislike of the beverage, Harling took it back.

Following this scene, Tomako bowed to the man, “I apologize if I’ve offended you. The drink was stronger than I envisioned…”

Harling nodded, “It is of no consequence. Perhaps I should have warned you that Swatslandic Ale is unmatched in power.” He followed this with a chuckle. “It would be unfair for anyone to expect Shimuan royalty to be resistant to its strength.”

The woman smiled back at him, meanwhile, keeping her tongue still as the aftertaste took its toll on her. Fortunately for her, it was during this passing silence that another man approached the group; it was the advisor who drafted the document.

“Sir Viceroy, a word with you?”

Harling looked back and forth between Tomako and the advisor before nodding and walking off. Tomako waved farewell for a moment before turning her head. The portrait of General Sandbuster had again caught her eye, only now she revealed some negative expression to it.

The two men distanced themselves from Tomako, and once far enough from hearing range, stopped to face one another.

“What?” the viceroy asked sternly.

“In regard to the treaty the Queen has signed… there’s a problem.”

The man’s eyes intensified, “…problem..?”

“I fear that the treaty may not have contained the best… terminology… needed to legitimize its effect.” Harling dipped his chin down, now looking at the advisor with a death stare. “When reviewing the document, I see a reason to believe that a king *would* need to be the one signing it. The queen is not of appropriate merit to affect the status of Krucifix as a whole, only the ruling monarch can.”

Harling barred his teeth, “This is *your* fault!”

With a sigh, the advisor calmly replied, “I will accept responsibility for the error. However, it is only fair to say that the timeframe I was given to write the treaty was not efficient enough.”

“Irrelevant.”

“However, I could hurry and compose a new treaty with the correct wording.”

Harling quickly cracked his knuckles, “Just… modify the already existing treaty. Do it!”

The advisor’s eyes widened, “Modify the- Sir Viceroy, that would be *very* illegal; perhaps even deadly if uncovered…”

“The queen did not so much as read the document. Nobody will know.” With this, he pointed to the table. “Go. Modify it.”

Though very reluctant to do so, the advisor soon turned with a gulp, then left to do as instructed. Harling, meanwhile, turned his head and observed Tomako as she continued to stare at the portrait of Sandbuster. Her interest in Kushyrin rang some suspicious bells, but the viceroy had no conspiracy to theorize. As such, he proceeded to walk forward again, intent on engaging her with more conversation.

Then finally, came the big moment. Hours later as the lights went out for most of Korion and the partying ceased to exist, only a few remained awake. Those who were still awake were either still drinking or preparing for Tomako’s call for an attack. Her part of the mission was over, now it was up to the Council’s men.

That night, under the blanket of night, Tomako stood atop one of the castle walls and faced the fields. Hidden in her palm was a lit *red* candle. With hesitation, the red candle was placed on the very edge of the castle wall for anyone to see. After which, she backed up slowly to retreat to her room of stay.

“The beacon has been lit.”

The red Great Lord of Dayaking, armored in full, momentarily found thousands of men rising up from the grass behind him. Katanas, bows, spears, pitchforks, he and the other armies came well-equipped for this job. With loyal servants backing him up and faith granting him additional morale, the Great Lord raised his sword high up into the air.

“Soldiers! The Army of Dayaking has been designated the task of liberating this city for the one and only Imperyean Empire! Let us force the Swatslandic onto their knees as our comrades take back Kori Castle!” His order was met with high applause. “Take the city and leave no Swatslandic alive to see the sunrise!”

The dockyard of Korion was silent for a time and with little activity. Only Swatslandic guards remained on watch, keeping thieves and such away from the docked warships and transports. This was where the spark of battle was to be lit.

The silence was a boring pleasure the Swatslandic guards would only get to enjoy for a few more moments, as soon, the world around them had been filled by the sound of galloping horses. Not a single guard in the dockyard passed the sounds off as normal, and before they knew it, the source of the galloping had been found.

Coming from the most eastern part of the docks came a massive team of Kushyrian cavalry. Mounted reactionaries rushed forth together in overwhelming numbers, each with their order of disabling the navy. It did not take long after this for the guards to identify these horsemen as samurai.

“Reactionaries!” the most eastern guard shouted.

Nine of countless horsemen turned towards the eastern guard and rushed into him. His spear did him no justice, and as such, he found himself knocked into the water by very aggressive horses. This same occurrence came with every single dock in the dockyard.

With the guard threat disposed of, each horseman dug into their satchels and pulled out sticks with gelatin and wrapping. Following this, a match brought fire to their sticks. In no more than a minute, hundreds of firebombs had been equipped by the horsemen and thrown onto the hull of docked Swatslandic warships. With each throw, they’d pull another stick out and repeat the process. As a result of all this, the docked warships were all catching fire and thus leaving the whole dockyard illuminated. The horseback samurai would watch as the rich sails of these ships burned to ash.

The burning of Swatslandic ships raised the attention of many but not enough to alert the entire Swatslandic garrison. This convenience brought the reactionary armies a good start to sieging the town.

Much like with the docks, horsemen soon slammed into the town itself with spears, bows, and more firebombs. The Swatslandic soldiers already present on the streets were being hunted down by these horsemen, meanwhile, the thousands of reactionary soldiers marched into Korion from two separate directions. The Army of Dayaking was to keep control over the city itself, the other armies were tasked with planting the Imperyean Empire flag over Kori Castle once more.

As the thousands of men charged through the streets of Korion, its citizenry observed with mixed opinions on the matter. Many hid with their children, many others took up arms and joined the fight. The lack of readiness on the Swatslandic side and astounding size of the reactionary attack was enough to give Old Imperyea a good start.

The very first confrontation, naturally, would be staged at one of many barracks. With Imperyeans surrounding the barracks nearest to Kori Castle, its inhabitants were left disorganized and confused if not absolutely wasted from drinking.

Soon enough, a full response to the reactionary threat had come in the form of lined up infantry, though many of the Swatslandic soldiers were not even in full uniform or armor. The officer charged with leading this army himself did not look at all conscious enough to lead men into battle, but his hands were tied.

“Alright, men..! Batter the Imperyean scum as we always do..!” A very lacking order, and not one to merit much morale raising. Such was the negative effect exhaustion had over him.

The Swatslandic soldiers raised their shields and formed a square so that they could face the surrounding Imperyeans from all directions. Their foes marched toward the square with an initial volley of mass arrow fire.

The officer looked up at the hundreds of oncoming arrows and put a shield up himself, but then an astonishing shock hit the army as a lone arrow traveled past the square of infantry and hit the man near the collarbone. He was, effectively, knocked off his horse and unable to continue performing.

Lacking an officer, the square defended against the overhead dropping of arrows. Many soldiers were unable to effectively block the storm, and as such, either died or fell to the attack. The Imperyeans closed in on the square from all directions with their swords and spears, their impending clash with the Swatslandic was preceded by a second wave of missile fire. Again, arrows came crashing down over the square, and again, many died or fell to the ground. This was nothing like the missile fire defense seen in the Swats-Imperyean War.

With the fall of so many, the morale of the Swatslandic defenders was threatened greatly.

From the front of the moving Imperyeans, the Great Lord of Hippinshu pointed his sword forth and shouted, “Go! Slay the enemies with vengeance in mind!”

Given the order, the samurai went straight for the drunken square first with a charge of spears. They found great success in this attack, be it a bloody success or simply knocking the shielded men down. Either way, the square was broken up with hardly any effort on the Imperyean side.

The spear charge was followed by an injection of swordsmen samurai who made quick work of downed enemies and engaged those sober enough to duel. No matter the case, it was an easily won fight. That had Swatslandic limbs and blood virtually everywhere.

In another part of the town, samurai surrounded a second barracks, but this one was being set ablaze by firebombs. A horrendous sight as many soldiers—hardly clothed—found themselves escaping the burning structure. Those Swatslandic men who stood with steel found bad results here as well, with a similar case of destructive missile fire. At least in this situation, a commanding officer remained well enough to command.

“Men! We need a breakthrough; force a frontal collapse and form up past the road!”

Unlike the previous army which went with a square formation defense, this army attempted to strike at the Imperyean attackers in a bid to get out of their surrounded situation. The soldiers thus charged with spears and swords, some even preparing to strike at the wall of Imperyeans with shields.

The initial charge was an astounding success for the Swatslandic, as countless Imperyeans were impaled by spears, others swiftly struck down by longswords. But in the end, it was the Imperyeans who easily got around their attack, thus creating an encirclement that could not be bested. The barracks here burned, and its soldiers fell in mutually drunk defeat as the mass amount of Imperyeans closed in and swallowed the Swatslandic soldiers.

At last, from within Kori Castle, a barely clothed Viceroy Harling rushed out of his bedroom and was met by some military advisors. Following this came an accompanying garrison of guards.

“What in the world is going on!?”

“Sir Viceroy, it’s the Imperyean reactionaries. They’re attacking in greater numbers than we’ve ever seen before.” Harling approached a window and looked outside, his morale took a severe drop as he came face-to-face with burning ships, a burning town, and thousands of infantry from both factions. “The soldiers are exhausted and dizzy, the Imperyeans rested and angry. We’re not standing a chance.”

Harling, with a hand to his forehead, panicked, “Tragedy! I knew we shouldn’t have included Korion in our celebration…” With quick thinking, the man turned his head back to his men. “What of the castle guards?”

“Everyone here should be sober and equipped. We are readying the cannonry.”

The viceroy’s only response was to nod, and with that, he looked back out at the battle with horrified eyes. The burning of a navy, thousands of men dying, and a puppet nation’s stability at risk. A night of celebration had become a true act of horror and so quickly.

“But where did they all arrive from..?” Harling asked himself.

*BOOM!*

The castle cannonry soon activated and proved highly effective against the Imperyean invaders. Whole amounts of samurai were propelled to their death in the face of such power. This was not the time to shake in fear, for with Kori Castle again before them, the four reactionary armies had to make a push.

With the drunk town garrison disorganized or dead, the fight came down to Swatslandic Royal Castle Guards and castle wall cannonry. The castle gate, of course, remained closed off.

As men clashed and cannons fired, Daigon stood by his Great Lord liege in observance of the waves of attacking samurai.

“Daigon, I am making an alteration to plans.” They exchanged stares but with the Great Lord pointing at the walls. “If this pattern persists and we cannot defeat the guards in time, the cannons will have destroyed us. Find a way up those walls.”

The samurai hero looked up at the castle walls, whistled, then nodded. “Walls can be climbed.”

Samurai swordsmen clashed with the elite infantry of Swatsland, thus leading to a collection of great duels. While the Swatslandic had the edge over the battle, the Imperyeans retained an advantage in numbers. Remove the morale-shattering cannonry and a reactionary entrance into the castle was only inevitable.

Coming from the side, Imperyean cavalry swooped in to knock down many of the elite swordsmen, but many horses and their riders were sacrificed to pull off the daring charge. Between the samurai swordsmen, spears were being thrust toward and into many of the same swordsmen.

Slipping past the defense, Daigon and a hundred or so soldiers of Craykon approached the castle walls. With immense strength, Daigon thrust his blade into the wall then pulled it out; this created a hole that he could grasp onto. After this, the man began to climb while plugging more holes up the same wall. His men soon did the same, forcing holes all along the wall that could be grabbed into. The Swatslandic acknowledged this unprecedented move as a serious threat but had no available men to deal with the situation.

The cannon fired yet again, primarily into the crowd of Imperyeans approaching the gate. Like with every strike, this found countless men being launched up into the air. Despite the cannon effectiveness, the reactionaries did not let up on their attack. For every ten soldiers the cannons killed, the samurai would kill ten or more Swatslandic men.

The Great Lord of Hippinshu pointed to the gate and shouted, “Burn it! By the gods, this castle will be ours even if all that’s left of it are floorboards!”

With the swordsmen all fighting near the gate, a row of soldiers not in combat dug into their satchels and pulled out firebombs. The cannons in the area *tried* to stop them but were unable to keep the men from setting the gate ablaze. There was no stopping the fire, and by extension, no stopping the Imperyeans from breaching the walls.

The men operating the cannons fired one more blast but then turned to find a truly frightening sight. Samurai were now atop the walls and combating the wall archers. Though not in large numbers, Daigon and a handful of samurai managed to climb the wall. Given the low training archers had with swords, no doubt, the men manning the cannons were doomed.

As such, these very men dropped their cannonballs and took off running.

Daigon chopped through his enemies with grace, pride, and great aggression. Though he was outnumbered, the man had the finesse ability to defend himself against just about any foe he may face. Accompanied by a few other samurai warriors, there was a legitimate question as to whether his small force could remove the Swatslandic archers from the battle. An Imperial Court Hero against many inferior sword-bearing archers.

Tomako, now very aware of the battle going on, sneaked through halls of the castle in a bid to escape. The proposal that she find a way out before the battle began never had a chance from the beginning, and now, there existed an issue of freeing herself from a castle that was under siege.

With each move she made, the woman hid from Swatslandic soldiers rushing through halls. She had no doubt that *someone* was catching onto her role in this attack considering this all occurred following her treaty signing. Worst of all was that she had no weapon to defend herself with.

She made a very swift turn into another hall, where she then found a stairway leading to the second floor. Her intention was to move down the stairs quickly and find a place to hide, but as it would turn out, such would not be the immediate case.

“Your Highness! Stop where you are!”

Tomako shut her eyes with gritted teeth, then turned to find a Swatslandic soldier rushing over to her. Fearing the worst, Tomako held her hands up seeking mercy but instead found a Svatpean sword placed into her hand. The woman widened her eyes in response and looked back up at the man.

“Kori Castle is under attack, m’lady. You best have a weapon to defend yourself with!”

“…oh.”

The soldier proceeded down the stairway to attend to his own matters. Very conveniently, Tomako was now armed. With this, she followed the man’s tracks by going downstairs.

“We’re doing it! They’re retreating!” the Craykon Great Lord shouted.

As he claimed, countless Swatslandic guards were beginning to turn away from the battle and retreat into the relatively safe castle. This was in part due to the fact that the gate had now been burned down. Just as one would expect, this retreat was responded to with a mass charge through the gate by Imperyean soldiers. In the courtyard of the castle, the Imperyeans were met with one final desperate onslaught of missile fire from wall archers, but this was nowhere close to being sufficient.

Samurai continued to combat the Swatslandic now in the castle itself. Both Harling and Tomako were losing room to hide.

With Korion under Imperyean control, citizens rallying to the reactionary cause by the hundreds, and the Swatslandic being forcibly removed from the town one at a time, there was a general mentality for the Swatslandic that all was lost. Even Viceroy Harling was under a pressuring situation of making a move. His options were few; he could attempt to flee, disguise himself, or hide in a closet.

“Burn it… burn it *all* down!” Harling commanded.

…or he could be a fool.

By his order, the entire castle was being set ablaze. If he had any future in the Swatslandic Empire, he decided it could not be in Korion, and as such, he would not allow the reactionaries to have their castle back. Ancient Imperyean art, artifacts, and treaties found within these walls were being scorched out of pure spite for the depressing situation.

With his Krucifix vassal treaty in one hand and a sword in the other, the man bravely marched down the central hall of the castle, where more than two hundred Swatslandic soldiers stood in anticipation for the impending Imperyean assault.

Harling grit his teeth in response, “There’s no way out of here…”

As he finalized those thoughts, the hallway door had been knocked down by horsemen who proceeded to charge straight down the aisle with spears. Soldiers from both sides fell in especially graphic fashion as a reaction, Harling stood his ground with a sword up to his chest.

“Push off the invaders, men! You are the elites of our holy empire! The practitioners of a greater way of life! The heart and soul of Great Swatslandia!”

A fight was precisely what the Swatslandic gave, especially with this being the end of the line. Fend off the Imperyeans here or die with a burning castle. Fortunately for the Swatslandic, the Imperyeans struggled to get past all the shielded men in such a condensed hallway, however, a storm of blazing fire arrows would change this theme.

Samurai fell to the blade but the Swatslandic were being set ablaze by fire arrows; the lucky ones were those who were arrowed in the head and killed on the spot. Within a minute, the entire entrance floor had been repainted red with blood from both sides. Harling, still standing in the back of the action, raised his sword up, eyes wide and teeth gritted.

“That’s it! Give them absolute hell!”

Moments later, a room behind him had collapsed due to the raging fire. This shattered what morale he had left, and so he turned in the hall’s other direction.

“Okay, I’ve had enough! Someone find me an alternative route -”

Suddenly, coming in from the opposite end of the hall, a mounted Swatslandic officer came rushing in full of sweat. Harling grit his teeth at the fact that a mounted officer was in the castle to begin with.

“Sir Viceroy! Viceroy! The Imperyeans… they’re coming and they’re mad!”

“What? From where?”

And following this question, from the other side of the hallway came a much smaller group of Imperyean soldiers, the very same who had followed Daigon up the walls. With this new front being made, the Swatslandic were officially boxed in from both directions.

Harling let out constant grunts, clenching the Krucifix treaty in his hand even tighter.

“For the love of all that is holy, somebody get me out of this mess! I hold in my hand -”

The viceroy had been interrupted in the worst way possible. An arrow, right through his chest with perfect precision; it was the perfect hit that had him falling down.

“Urk..!” The viceroy’s vision blurred immediately as he fell to his side and dropped his sword. Following this, he was passed by the many soldiers of Daigon’s unit. “B- But..!” Harling reached for the treaty Tomako had signed, finding it was now covered red in his blood—unreadable. “M- My legacy..!”

At last, an average samurai approached the fallen viceroy, placed a foot over his chest, and raised his katana over his head in preparation for a vertical strike.

“Pray the gods have greater mercy upon you!” the samurai shouted.

With a powerful strike, the samurai warrior delivered the strike that would leave the Viceroyalty of Imperyea in temporary anarchy. The viceroy was dead, the ships burning, Kori Castle ablaze, and Korion quickly falling back under the control of the Imperyean Empire, years after its tragic fall.

For the Swatslandic who remained, it was far worse than any imaginable nightmare. The Imperyeans were without any sympathy for their Swatslandic foes…

By late past midnight, not even the heavy knights of Swatsland lived to fight. Those who wore the black cubes of Swatsland were either dead, dying, or fleeing Korion. All the same, the legendary ‘lightning ships’ of Swatsland were drowning and charred. No one could have ever envisioned such horrors ever taking place on Imperyean soil, no honest person would dare wish to see so much blood and so much death, but for many Imperyeans, it was a worthwhile massacre.

The days of Swatslandic Korion had ended for now, and at long last, the people of Korion could cheer on the burning of the Swatslandic banner that for long flew over the castle. The ancient Kori Castle was lost, but many would agree that seeing the black, white, blue, and gold banner of the Imperyean Empire once more flying over the town made up for the loss. For a time, what many considered to be *true* Imperyea had returned, at least in the city of Korion.

Samurai, citizenry, Great Lords, and even spared Swatslandic soldiers cheered on the end of the battle. Tomako Angel, meanwhile, stood before a town of fireworks and celebration and was once more in her brown attire. There she stood without expression, gazing upon the many colorful explosions in the sky, but also at the many burning structures and ships in the distance. She couldn’t cheer on such an event, no matter how badly the Imperyean people desired this. In her conscience, she would forever remember the event she aided in that led to the killing of thousands, all because of her desire to see her parents safe again.

This raised moral issues she would forever struggle with. This victory and the blood that came with it was on her hands whether she liked it or not.

With one hand behind her back, Tomako bit her lip and looked out to the dockyard, now simply left to wonder how and when Krucifix would come. She had seen much on this night, but just a little too much. She could ask for nothing more than to part ways with Imperyea. Krucifix may be hostile to her, but if this night showed her anything, it’s that Imperyea would continue to suffer Swats-Imperyean conflicts that she never wanted to witness again for as long as she lives. This was a horrific victory.

A man’s familiar voice grabbed her ear, “You’ve been hard at work, hm?”

Tomako spun around with wide eyes and a quivering lip, “…Otomo..!”

Her old friend, standing in full black and purple armor, responded, “Surprised, Tomako?”

The woman remained still in shocked silence for a few moments, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. It was only now, in the end, that it occurred to her that the armor Otomo owned was, in fact, anything but standard issue.

“Otomo… why didn’t you tell me you were a Great Lord?”

The man returned a cunning grin, “Hm? Didn’t I?” He smirked at her and winked. “You’re a smart girl, I would’ve thought you had that figured out as far back as childhood.”

The woman moved her lips around for a moment in disbelief, momentarily continuing, “You told me that you were a general for Kushyrin, not the owner of our entire island!”

The man cackled, “Ah, but I lead my own men into battle—a general of my own merit. So, I was a leader both politically and militarily in wars past.” He shrugged. “So, from a certain point of view, I was telling the truth.”

The woman began to circle around Otomo as if interrogating him, “Then, why were you in Boshtang that whole time and not part of the Council of Five?”

“Oh, Tomako. I’ve always been a member… just a distant one. You see…” he grit his teeth, “Well…I suppose I was hoping my wife would return to me, and she wouldn’t find me here in Korion. Additionally, I wished to remain hidden from the Swatslandic. Were the enclave to fall, I would be the final Great Lord left able to serve the cause; best I stayed in Boshtang, in exile. While they may not have approved of my decision, it was all for good intention, you see…”

Tomako felt Otomo by a shoulder pad, then with watery eyes asked, “How did you get here so quickly?”

“Heh, heh, heh…” he raised a finger, “I actually beat you here.”

“What.”

He chuckled, “I left the same day you did, only, I arrived days before you did.”

“What!? How!?”

“I took a boat here.”

Her jaw dropped, “From Boshtang!?”

“Yes.”

“B- But you told me that I had to travel to Korion by foot..!” the Great Lord squinted at her, still smirking. “Why, Otomo? Why would you put me through all of that instead of just putting me on a boat?”

Otomo rubbed his fingers together and walked circles of his own, “So you could think, child.”

“Think?”

He returned a lecture, “Yes! To make you think! You are an impatient woman… *dangerously* impatient. If you were not going to stay and allow me to make you a master of the sword, then I needed to put you through a test.” He then closed his eyes and faced her with a strong pose. “As we now know, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to reach your destination. For that, you’ve earned some respect, but I still don’t like this fool’s quest you’ve undertaken.”

Tomako’s face became somewhat sour, “So you put me on a travel that I could have avoided, just to test me?”

“Well, that, and I needed to reach Korion before you. From the moment you left, I knew the Council of Five were the only ones who could help you to Krucifix. Imagine my surprise, however, when I found that the samurai Daigon already discovered you.”

She slowly nodded, “You’re the one who told them my real name.”

“There was no reason to hide your name from the samurai.”

But the woman had an objection to make, “I do not want my actual name contributed to an event such as this battle.”

“Oh?” Otomo raised a brow, “And why is that?”

Tomako turned to him with watery eyes, “I… I do not want the Angel family’s name linked with violence. I simply wish to retrieve my family and resume living my life.”

This response evoked a slight grin from Otomo, who then pocketed his hands and asked, “So, in the end. Do you still want to leave Imperyea, knowing what kind of dangers you may encounter?” Before she could speak, the man hoisted a hand up. “Rather than endure countless struggles, you could remain here with us. Have a family, enjoy the fruits of honor, take up horseback training -”

“With all due respect…” Tomako stood tall and with two hands together, “I can achieve all of this and more after I secure my parents.”

With this being said, Otomo closed his eyes with a growing grin. With no cards left to play, the man pulled up his purple katana and presented it to her.

“Here. Don’t forget your sword.” Tomako took hold of it but with a shocked face. “But, Otomo, this is your special Great Lord sword.”

“And I am once more bestowing it upon you, for a special quest.” Tomako put the sword back over her belt, then bowed to her old friend. “Here, I’ll, hm…” With a quick search, the man snapped his fingers and took a common katana off a corpse. “Yes, I will make a special sword out of this for myself. To carry on the blade of a fallen samurai warrior, yes, that will do.”

Tomako was skeptical of this decision, but at any rate, willing to accept it. The surprise didn’t end with Otomo, however, as soon a second person approached them—another bald head. Otomo faced the figure with a raised brow, Tomako did so with a gasp.

“Oh no! Daigon!”

The samurai hero before them had an eyepatch over his head, but aside from this, only mere cuts. “My glorious assault on the castle walls led to the piercing of my left eye.”

Otomo sighed, “But it’s an acceptable loss for all that we gained tonight.”

Daigon smirked, “I lost a lot less than I thought I would.”

Tomako continued trembling, “My goodness! Does it hurt!?”

“My wound has been numbed by victory. I will continue to fight for as long as I remain capable. But if the Great Lords declare this my final battle, I will not be disappointed, for it was a glorious one.”

The Kushyrian Great Lord closed one eye and waved down Daigon, “Eh, don’t worry, you can keep fighting.”

Daigon bowed to Otomo, “Thank you.”

Otomo again nodded, then looked down at Tomako, “We’ve arranged for a Swatslandic trading vessel to take you to Krucifix within the hour.”

Tomako gasped again, “How?”

“Err… well… we’re going to take the crew hostage…” Otomo admitted with a humored face. “I will, of course, designate a group of samurai to escort you to Krucifix.”

This is when Daigon stepped forward, “Allow me the honor to take Tomako. I would like to see Krucifixan soil one final time in my life.”

“Are you sure?”

Daigon licked his lips for a few moments, then said in silence, “I owe her…”

With the sounds of war now over but a town still on fire, Tomako and Otomo remained staring at one another. With the crashing of another part of Kori Castle—still ablaze—Tomako was left with an obvious question.

“What does the future hold for the samurai?”

This was a question that had Daigon and Otomo exchanging glances. With confidence, Otomo explained, “The Viceroy of Imperyea is dead, and news of his death will not find its way to Svatpa for a long time considering how far away Swatsland is.” Both Tomako and Daigon widened their eyes at this statement. “Therefore, Imperyea will be under a type of anarchy for quite some time. We, in the meantime, will *try* and expand our control of the islands. With luck, perhaps we will take back Imperyea and convince the Swatslandic to never return.”

“Such would be a dream. Then we can get back to attacking the Krucifixans,” was Daigon’s point of view.

Otomo looked up to the smoke-filled sky, then spoke, “Well, in that case, I have one final sword lesson to teach you, Tomako.”

“Huh?”

The Great Lord unsheathed his sword, as did Tomako moments after. Daigon watched with immense interest. There, Otomo held his sword up and nodded.

“The Art of Mercy. But I have a feeling you’re already well familiar with this.” Tomako’s eyes quivered intensely as the two remained still. “Remember, every life you encounter could be destined for hundreds of future generations, that is, hundreds of future dynasties. If you can help it, choose not to end those destinies.”

“The Art of Mercy…” Tomako whispered to herself.

Otomo put away his sword. “You have a caring heart, Tomako. I could *never* imagine you resorting to murder for personal gain. Perhaps you will need to end the life of one to protect yourself; but if possible, I trust that you will remain honorable and merciful in nature.”

Tomako took his lesson in with humbled silence, and soon, Otomo received the woman with a parting hug. Daigon moved his eye left and right for a few moments.

“U—Uh, but to be clear…” Daigon added, “She *should* kill if necessary.”

“Oh, yes, definitely.”

“But hopefully, I will never have to…”

And so, Tomako sheathed EngelReise, as did she her time in homeland Imperyea.

The three looked off toward the fireworks and blazing fire for several passing moments. Tomako’s journey in Imperyea was over and she even had one final opportunity to see Otomo—Great Lord of Kushyrin. Now it was time to make the next fateful leap.

From across the ocean, northeast, Krucifix would soon know her name… not Togami Legend, but Tomako Angel, Imperyean farmer from Boshtang…

To be continued!

**Chapter 9 <** **| > Chapter 11**

## Author Notes

#### Tomako's Broken Toe

A new feature of Tomako's character design was introduced in this chapter as it was revealed that Tomako's left foot features a dislocated big toe. As a child, Tomako jammed her toe into the ground and broke it, and without receiving medical attention, this broken toe went on to permanently overlap the closest, smaller toe. While this had never been depicted at the time of this chapter, all future depictions of Tomako's foot would represent this flaw. Another detail to this is that Tomako does not seem to be ashamed of this deformity and still prefers to go sockless when wearing her dress, even though she is very self-conscious about her flat chest, suggesting that she has the ability to feel bad about her appearance, but simply doesn't seem to identify her dislocated toe as a burden.

#### 'Season 1' Finale

This chapter is called the 'Season 1 Finale' or traditionally the 'Imperyea Finale' and established that EngelReise will be divided into seasons. Due to each chapter being more or less 10,000 words in length, and the plan being for seasons to consist of at least 10 chapters, I felt that any future physical prints of EngelReise would be editioned by 'season', therefore the first ten chapters of EngelReise would be printed as 'Book 1'. This differed from F-Zero: Seppuku, which existed in a three-part format, but was similar to Shrouded Piety: Tale of Two Godcrafts, which also grouped its chapters in such a way.

#### Inspiration for Battle

Inspiration for the Battle of Kori Castle came from the real life Battle of Trenton (1776), where it was surmised that defending Hessian soldiers would be drunk in the aftermath of Christmas and therefore vulnerable to attack.

## Chapter Illustration

This chapter illustration depicts Kori Castle at night, as well as a glowing title identifying it as the 'Imperia Finale'. 'Imperia', in this instance, is spelled the way it is due to the illustration being created before the renaming of 'Imperia' to 'Imperyea', a decision that had been made years later due to fears of originality.

This was a more unique circumstance where the illustration comes from a screenshot taken from a scene in a video game, altered through Adobe Photoshop, further altered through Inkscape, and finalized over Photoshop.

Due to the borrowed material used in the image as well as the outdated spelling, this illustration is due to be replaced at some point with an entirely original work.

## Characters Introduced

#### General Sandbuster

It is revealed in this chapter by Viceroy Harling that General Sandbuster is responsible for seizing the farmers of Kushyrin, and therefore the one who burned down the Angel farm and abducted Tomako's parents. Harling describes Sandbuster as a man born from an island near Dimmish Point, and made a name for himself by securing magnificent victories in a war against the Kingdom of Victoria. He earned his current position in the Viceroyalty of Imperyea by crushing a Swatslandic pretender uprising that sought the throne. Tomako, now possessing the name that made a victim of her family, meditates on what she will do with this information in the long run.