Horses Trample the Allied Camps

"Very well!"

Dongfang Mao's lips curled into a sharp, mocking smile as his finger pressed heavily onto the spread-out topographical map.

"I shall personally lead the elite cavalry to assault the right flank."

His fingertip traced a line across the parchment.

"Yasuke, you are to lead your men to flank from the left."

With a swift flick of his wrist, his finger pointed toward the rear of the map.

"Kyuzo, your unit will circle to the enemy's rear. You must cut off the Rice Field Army's retreat!"

"Understood!"

The night breeze was cool, and the south gate of Tsukimiura slowly creaked open under the moonlight.

Dongfang Mao, Yasuke, and the others led their warhorses out in a single file.

The moment they cleared the gate, a thick, putrid stench of rotting corpses assaulted their senses.

The bodies of the Rice Field Army soldiers left beneath the city walls during the day had yet to be cleared.

Dongfang Mao furrowed his brows, thinking to himself that regardless of the outcome of this battle, he must have the battlefield cleaned immediately upon their return; otherwise, if left to fester, it would surely invite a plague.

Under the cover of darkness, the group quietly advanced to a slope two miles away from the Rice Field Army camp.

Looking down from the high ground, the enemy camp was deathly silent, save for the campfires flickering uncertainly in the dark.

The sentries patrolling the perimeter were listless, dragging their feet in a mechanical, rhythmic cycle, showing not a shred of vigilance or fighting spirit.

Dongfang Mao stared at the distant enemy camp, nodding to himself; this was exactly the situation he had hoped for.

"All units, listen up."

He lowered his voice.

"Don your armor, mount your horses."

Behind him, the men moved in silence and with great speed; the clatter of iron armor against iron was exceptionally crisp in the night air.

Dongfang Mao gave one final, stern instruction.

"Once we charge into the camp, you must maintain your formation. No one is to break away on their own. If you encounter ninjas, form a defensive perimeter immediately!"

The soldiers nodded silently, gripping their weapons tightly, their eyes burning with resolve.

The unit continued to creep forward through the night. When they reached within half a mile of the Rice Field Army camp, Dongfang Mao suddenly pulled on his reins and vaulted off his horse.

He pressed his palms together, his ink-black hair whipping wildly as his chakra surged.

"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"

With a low shout, Dongfang Mao poured the majority of his chakra into the technique, spewing more than a dozen scorching fireballs from his mouth in rapid succession.

These burning spheres tore through the night sky like falling stars, whistling toward the Rice Field Army camp and exploding into a sea of flames among the tents.

Instantly, the camp erupted in agonizing wails. Soldiers of the Rice Field Army, engulfed in flames, rolled frantically on the ground, their twisted faces appearing particularly gruesome in the firelight.

Those who had narrowly escaped the fireballs were struck with terror, stumbling toward the main camp while screaming at the top of their lungs.

"Enemy attack! The rebels are launching a night raid!"

A cold glint flashed in Dongfang Mao's eyes as he swung his long blade, carving a silver arc through the air.

"New Martial Army, hear my command! Follow this Commander and trample the enemy camp!"

He chose not to remount; with his current level of taijutsu, a warhorse would only be a hindrance.

He channeled chakra into the soles of his feet, his figure flickering like a phantom as he plunged deep into the enemy camp.

"Kill—!"

Behind him, the three hundred cavalrymen roared in unison. Amidst the neighing of warhorses, the New Martial Army surged toward the blazing Rice Field Army camp like a tidal wave.

The distance of a few hundred meters was covered in an instant; the torrent of iron cavalry had already reached the camp gates.

Amidst the frantic neighing of horses, heavy iron hooves shattered the wooden palisades, the cold glint of blades dancing in the roaring flames.

Every flash of silver was followed by a spray of fresh blood, tracing a tragic, beautiful arc in the firelight.

The sounds of battle outside, the clashing of steel, and the shrill wails of the Rice Field Army soldiers jolted Kojiro from his sleep inside the main command tent.

Just then, a guard outside the tent pushed aside the flap and rushed in, panicked.

"General! The rebels are launching a night raid! They have broken through from both the east and west sides and are already closing in on the main tent!"

Kojiro felt as if he had been struck by lightning, his face a mask of disbelief. Had he not sent ninjas to assassinate the rebel leader?

How could he have received no word of success, only to be met with the news that the rebels had already breached the camp?

A bone-chilling cold crept up his spine.

Even a fool would understand that with the low morale of his troops today, the camp must have already descended into total chaos the moment the surprise attack began.

Those soldiers, by now, are likely being slaughtered like pigs waiting for the blade, aren't they?

"Quick! Gather the remnants immediately, full retreat!"

Kojiro roared until his throat grew hoarse, his voice laced with an unprecedented panic.

At this moment, he no longer cared about the failed suppression or the Daimyo's impending, earth-shattering rage; saving his own life was all that mattered!

Yet, before his words had even fully faded, the encampment was instantly blown apart by a massive burst of flames.

Moments later, several armored cavalrymen trampled through the embers, surrounding him completely, their iron armor gleaming with a chilling light in the fire.

Then, a figure clad in heavy black armor stepped slowly out from the ranks of the cavalry.

His ink-black hair danced wildly in the heatwave, while his handsome face was frozen in a terrifying, bone-chilling killing intent.

The scent of blood surrounding the figure was so thick it felt almost tangible, and every step he took seemed to land directly on the tip of Kojiro's heart.

Under this suffocating pressure, Kojiro's knees went weak, and he collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.

Dongfang Mao lowered his gaze to look down at the kneeling Kojiro.

"You are the commander-in-chief of this Land of Rice Fields suppression army?"

"Y-yes... that is correct..."

Kojiro's Adam's apple bobbed violently as he struggled to squeeze the words out of his parched throat.

"Y-yes... that is correct..."

His voice was as thin as a mosquito's hum, his forehead pressed against the cold ground, not daring to meet that condescending gaze.

Beads of sweat the size of peas rolled down his cheeks, shimmering with terror in the firelight.

Dongfang Mao suddenly threw his head back and laughed, his voice filled with undisguised mockery.

"Hahaha! The Land of Rice Fields is truly blessed to have a 'fine general' like you!"

These taunting words made Kojiro flush with shame and anger, but he dared not lash out, only biting his lower lip until it bled.

"Bind him."

Dongfang Mao couldn't be bothered to look at this incompetent general again and waved his hand dismissively.

The guards on either side lunged forward like wolves, and in the blink of an eye, they had trussed Kojiro up like a dumpling.

Before long, an officer hurried over with a joyful expression, cupping his hands in a salute.

"My Lord, the tally is complete. We have captured over 18,000 soldiers, 53,000 auxiliary troops, 3.4 million catties of grain, over 40,000 weapons, 20,000 bows and crossbows, and 9,000 sets of armor!"

"Good, good, good!"

Upon hearing this, Dongfang Mao clapped his hands and laughed. It felt as if the Land of Rice Fields hadn't come to suppress a rebellion at all; seeing that he had been struggling with military expenditures lately, they had clearly come to deliver supplies out of the kindness of their hearts!

However, amidst his joy, Dongfang Mao realized this raid had gone a bit too smoothly, so he turned to look at Kojiro and asked curiously.

"When you set out on this campaign, did the Daimyo not send any ninjas to assist you?"

"This..."

Kojiro's eyes darted around, and fine beads of sweat seeped from his forehead.

Dongfang Mao signaled to the guard beside him.

The soldier understood immediately and stomped hard on Kojiro's palm, the joints emitting a sickening, crisp crunch.

"Ah! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Kojiro's face twisted in agony.

And when Dongfang Mao learned from Kojiro's own mouth that the enemy had actually dispatched 10 ninjas to infiltrate Tsukimiura to assassinate him, his pupils constricted, and his expression turned as dark as ink.

He spun around abruptly and roared.

"All troops, hear my command! Return to the city immediately!"

His heart was filled with a sense of urgency; he could not imagine what kind of destruction 10 ninjas could wreak within Tsukimiura!