This Was No Fight

Snow and wind pressed down on the mountain ridge. The wind after midnight cut harder than it had during the day.

Takuma lowered the binoculars. Two of his fingers had turned blue with cold and barely bent.

He tucked his hand under his armpit to warm it, and his mind returned to the mess from a month ago.

The Black Market's supply of Marrowstone Sand had vanished overnight, and Sunagakure's armament workshops had gone cold.

There weren't enough swords or armor, and several frontline units were still waiting to be reequipped.

The Daimyō Mansion had slammed its fist on the table. The order from above was simple: find out what had happened in the Land of Birds at any cost.

They were to investigate the Mining District too. If another faction had taken it, they were to wreck its operations and bring back whatever they could.

Takuma had worked in intelligence for seventeen years and taken plenty of jobs like this. None had left him feeling so helpless.

An entire Black Market had burned to ash, and thousands of people had raised hell.

Agents from both sides had combed the whole city without even learning the culprit's surname.

All that remained were the charred frames of collapsed buildings and streets full of people demanding their wages.

Everyone they asked named the Gold Source Trading Company, but the company hadn't left behind so much as a signboard.

The Sunagakure squad leader accompanying him thought he was dragging his feet. He'd pressed Takuma again last night, saying both sides would be punished if they took any longer.

Takuma raised two fingers and signaled the men hidden in the snow behind him to advance.

Nine figures moved with the wind, their feet making no sound on the crusted snow.

Two storm lanterns hung