The horns of Onirokami sounded across the land—deep, resonant blasts that shook the cherry blossoms from their branches and sent flocks of birds scattering into the storm-dark sky. The enemy had arrived. The undead mermaids' shrieks carried from the coasts, each cry a jagged note of horror. The war had begun.
At the southern shore, Riyuka stood like a pillar of flame, his armor gleaming with crimson lacquer. In his hands, his katana reflected the eerie light of the eclipse beginning to dim the skies. His troops formed ranks behind his blades and banners raised.
"Forward!" Riyuka shouted, his voice cutting through the crashing waves. The undead surged from the sea, their scales rotting, their eyes hollow and glowing with unnatural malice. He cut the first down in a spray of black ichor, the katana's arc swift and merciless. The south burned with her ferocity.
At the north, Disdas towered like a shadow among soldiers. His frame was lean, his stance sharp, and in his hands was a great bow taller than many men. His arrows glowed with seals etched in silver. He loosed the first shot, and the arrow split into five streaks of light, skewering the mermaids that dared crawl onto the northern sands. His men roared in unison, emboldened by the sight of their commander's precision.
At the east, Yotto swung his weapon—a scythe with a blade like a crescent moon forged from obsidian steel. His movements were fluid, reaping through the undead in sweeping arcs. Every step he took was calculated, his soldiers forming a wheel around him, striking in rhythm with his deadly harvest.
At the west, Reiji stood braced against the tide, his spear glittering with etched runes. With each thrust, he shattered bone and scale, impaling two, sometimes three at once. His voice boomed commands with clarity, ensuring his forces did not break formation against the overwhelming swarm.
And at the heart of Onirokami, the central city, Kaori stood in her general's armor, her daggers glinting like twin fangs. Her troops spread in disciplined ranks, while beside her, Onoe leveled his own spear, face grim. They were the shield of the civilians, the last line before the palace.
Renjiro Kazen remained in the castle, his battle hatchet resting at his side. But he was far from idle—his voice echoed through the communication talismans each general carried, his strategy like lightning coursing through veins. "Hold the lines. Rotate your vanguard. Do not allow the flanks to collapse. And remember—the undead do not fear death. Strike until they fall apart."
Outside the castle walls, Michi's group split as planned:
Michi was sent to the east, alongside Yotto, to carve through waves of undead with his sword blazing.
Tekia charged to the north, fighting near Disdas, his katana flashing as he roared with Onirokami pride.
Lior sprinted southward, his own flames erupting to join Riyuka's fury.
Kael and Tiana marched to the west, Kael gripping his weapon with determination, Tiana's snakes already uncoiling, slithering with venomous intent.
Above it all, on the highest palace roof, Junia and Tieu climbed, their eyes locked onto the sky. The eclipse had begun—an ominous halo swallowing the sun. Shadows stretched unnaturally long, the air tightening with pressure as though the heavens themselves were holding their breath.
Junia unslung her bow, runes glowing across the polished wood, while Tieu held open her grimoire, its pages fluttering though no wind stirred.
Together, they began their chant. Their voices intertwined, sun and moon in perfect resonance. "By flame and tide, by shadow and light… let the celestial bond awaken…" Their words carried like whispers into the air, their bodies glowing faintly with golden and silver auras that pulsed in rhythm with the dying sun above.
The east roared with battle cries. Michi waded into the fray beside Yotto, his sword cleaving through scaled flesh. The undead mermaids screeched, their claws ripping and snapping, but Michi's movements were sharp, efficient, his breath steady even as black blood coated the sand.
"Not bad, outsider!" Yotto barked, his scythe carving through another wave. "Don't fall behind!"
"I wasn't planning to!" Michi shouted back, sweat running down his temple. Each strike reminded him of his vow—to prove himself, to earn the piece, to not falter in the shadow of despair.
The eastern tide surged again, more mermaids crawling, their jaws snapping. Michi braced, sword burning in his hands.
The northern sky split with arrows as Disdas loosed another volley. Tekia fought beneath his command, his yellow yukata already stained with blood. His katana cut viciously, and yet his mouth never ceased to shout with manic energy.
"For Onirokami! For all my people, gozaru!"