A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

"And who might you be?" Gengyo asked, as though he genuinely cared, daring to stick his head out form behind the stone blacksmith wall, only to have an arrow sent his way a second later.

"The commander of this here city guard, and servant of the grand governor. I do not care what kind of little insurrection you think yourselves capable of committing, but know that it will not be done within this walls of this city! Stand down! You are hopelessly outnumbered."

"Are we? How many do you have?"

"We have more a than a hundred men, and you have what, 15? Let us save the pointless violence, and we will let you away with a lighter sentence."

"I’ve got a better idea. How about you lend us 50, and we’ll have an even fight? That seems more fun, doesn’t it?"

"...We will fill you full of arrows, then." The commander responded, disgusted.

"Mm... I think I got a lot look at his face." Gengyo said quietly, so that just his men could hear.

"Let me borrow that, would you?" He took a rifle from one of his soldiers, and quickly checked to make sure it was loaded. They all looked at him curiously, with a hint of fear clouding their gazes.

"When I give you the signal, it’s clear, and I want you to charge out, and empty your matchlocks. Understood?" They nodded hesistantly, and he grinned in reply.

A moment later, he disappeared, gripping the rifle ready in both hands, as he accelerated across the main street, going as fast as he was able – which as it happens, was terrifyingly fast – heading towards the nearest building, directly opposite.

"KILL THAT MAN!" The commander thundered, appauled that someone would look down him so much as to be that daring. As per his command, sixty arrows loosed themselves from the drawn bow strings, heading toward Gengyo. The majority were too slow, but one or two, he was forced to dodge.

He skidded in behind the stone wall, still gripping his rifle firmly. He took a deep breath, and then stepped out once more, this time, walking.

"All shots fired there, it seems." He noted the men hurriedly trying to renotch their arrows. "Woah, easy now. The next time someone moves, I’ll be putting a bullet in your leaders brain." His threat was not taken lightly, and the old commander gritted his teeth in disgust.

FLOOSH

A single arrow flew, from a bow that had yet to release it. The aim was true, and it thundered towards Gengyo’s chest.

"Man... That was close." He said, brushing it off to the side with his rifle, before pulling the trigger, and leaving a lead ball nestled within the commander’s cranium.

He did not even need to give the order, as his men knew what his aim had been. They watched him dodge the arrows with ease, and they remembered why they were here in the first place – what had been offered to them. This was a man of great talent, and skill. Under his tutelage, they would surely grow as warriors and as swordsmen, and then they would not need to fear so much when that inevitable danger once more came.

Together, they lined up, and unleashed a volley of fire onto the troops in front of them. It was not exactly the hardest marksmenship challenge, and every single one of their bullets landed – even from the man who claimed that he had never fired such a weapon before.

The order of the guards all but disappeared as they saw their commander slump to his knees, and collapse on the man in front of him. The man screamed, and lashed out, throwing the corpse elsewhere, sowing the seeds of disorder amongst the rest. A few managed to knotch their arrows despite this, but they were very much the minority.

As per Gengyo’s command, the men cast their rifles aside, and charged forward alongside their leader.

"Careful." Gengyo deflected an arrow that was intent on piercing the eye of the man to his left. The man blinked, as a wave of hot dread swept through his body due to the comprehension of how close to death he had been, but given the momentum of their charge, they were not liable to stop any time soon, and he gripped his sword all the tighter, clashing into the front ranks of the enemy alongside their leader.

They had not managed to reorganise themselves with the sudden death of their commander, and as such, the majority of the archers still remained towards the front. The guards armed with yari lowered them too slowly, and the charge of men far fewer in number than them was enough to cripple them.

It did not help that a man who was dressed as if he were a monk wielded a rifle by it’s muzzle, and created a whirlwind of devestation around him. With every swing of his misused weapon, he claimed yet another life, and he swung so quickly.

The men along side him shouted loudly, attempting to drown out their fear, as they gripped their swords and hacked, slashed, kicked, and bit their way through the enemy. Whatever part of their body their could use to tackle what was in front of them, they did. It was not graceful, but it certainly worked.

Two yari wielding men attempted to cut Gengyo’s charge off, as they jabbed at him together, seeming to think that was enough to cut his direction off. But he spun, and whirled, twisting madly, before they could even get to them, and as he thrust his weapon through another man, he freed his palms, pressurising the air in front of him.

Their hands clawed towards their chests, and they dropped their spears, falling to the ground, spitting blood from their mouths. As they fell, he lunged toward their weapons.

"Ah, it’s crude, but it certainly feels a lot better in the hand." He spoke to himself, whirling it around, just as they had in training, but this time, his strikes had a satisfily fleshy receipient.

His beautiful flowing orange robes were soon coated in blood, but still he continued to stab, until there was no one left in front of them.

"Still alive?" He called out jovially, seeing his men breathing heavily as a result of the chaos. They too glanced around rapidly, as they leant on their swords. They could not see any armour other than the guards in those that lay dead, and the numbers of those standing certainly seemed to stand up.

"We did it... Against... Over a hundred men..." A man stated, gulping, desperately trying to catch his breath. It was surreal. Such an amount of blood. A duel was never this graphic. A single cut was usually how it ended.

"Bloody hell... We actually won that... I thought we were done for sure."

"Oh... You doubted my leadership? That hurts." Gengyo asked, mock upset.

"No... No my lord. Well, perhaps a little..." He looked up sharply, wondering whether Gengyo might punish him for his admittance. But the man simply grinned in return. Why wouldn’t he doubt him? In regards to leadership, he’d barely done anything to prove himself. "I just thought that your approach was a little extreme... I could not see it working. But you are a powerful man, as we have seen, so we were able to triumph, though it seemed unlikely." The man grew more eloquent as oxygen returned and he grasped for the right words in order to express himself.

"This approach certainly wouldn’t have worked in the past – with me simply charging out there. But we would not have looked at these odds in disfavour in the past either. There are many cunning little strategies to employ. We are lucky that we do not need them, for now." He turned his head to see the civlians begin to glance round the corner worriedly. "Come, let us get the others, and then we will occupy this place."

"My lord, were you always able to deflect an arrow like that?" One of the men asked as they made their way back through the city gates, and waved to their people, indicating for them to come forward.

"Hm? No, certainly not. This is as a result of Menryo-ji’s teachings. You’d be able to do it in time as well. It’s an awareness, rather than a reaction. But you will learn more of that later." A sudden thought occurred to him, and he remembered the man from earlier. "So, how was it? Your first time firing matchlock?"

"Ah..." He looked up, surprised at the sudden question. He had been deep in thought, and had drifted out a while, as he reflected on the battlefield, and played with the blood that was clotting on top of his skin. "It was easy... Far too easy. To be able to take a man’s life with such ease is... frightening, my lord."

"Indeed it is. But that is the way of war now, and it will only continue to get easier as time passes. We either adapt, and become used to it, or we die at the hands of the people who do. Regardless, I intent to make this matchlock easier to use." He held up the weapon, admiring it lightly, as he recalled the changes he had wished to make. "Instead of this here cord, we will have a flint and steel mechanism, so there will be no need to have a cord."

"That certainly would make it a lot better to use, my lord. There have been times, on the field, where my matchcord as snuffed out, making the weapon useless."

"Oh? You’ve used this kind of weapon often then?"

"As often as might be expected, my lord. It’s a fine piece of equipment."

"I see. I intend to make the bullets easier to load as well, to lessen the reload time, and instead of a ball, I will alter it, to make it less likely to bounce off armour."

"...Those do seem like they would be good changes, my lord, but I would not know where to begin in attempting to apply them."

"It is fine, there are people who do. I am merely letting you know that there will be a piece of finer equipment on it’s way into your hands in due time, so look forward to it."

The men really were taking their time in coming past the hill, and it was Jikouji that lead them, slowly trotting over on Gengyo’s white horse.

"Come on old man, you can manage a bit faster than that! Even my horse is getting bored!" Gengyo shouted out, with a wide grin.