The Twelve Kingdoms: A Thousand Leagues of Wind

commanders were no exception.
    "What is going on!"
    "Hundreds of armed civilians have stormed the castle!"
    Thin smiles showed on the faces of the battalion commanders as they conversed together: "We're walking into a trap here. We'd better go back." They shouted in voices that might have sounded a tad too enthusiastic, "Return to the castle!!"
    Like a dam breaking, the soldiers stamped toward the Hare Gate. The number of troops abandoning their positions and pouring like a tidal wave through the gate were at least half of their original strength.
    Left behind where they had fallen in the darkened countryside, the cries of the wounded still called out for rescue.

Chapter 66
    W ith Koshou flanking her, Youko advanced on the keep of the provincial castle.
    Every now and then, they'd cross swords with a castle guard or sentry barreling around a corner, shrieking bloody murder. Youko glanced at Koshou. Koshou wielded his broadsword in a furious manner. The blade of the sword was tipped with a thick, barbed fluke instead of a regular spear point. The weapon itself must weigh more than a hundred pounds. His ability to keep knocking the enemy about with it was a feat worthy of admiration.
    By simply swinging the broadsword at a charging enemy, its hundred-plus pound mass alone would shatter his opponent's bones. The sheer force generated when he flung the sword out to the side flattened armor like a swatted fly. In that manner he warded off any attackers who came at them from the rear.
    Every swing of Koshou's sword was met with a ghastly shriek in return.
    "Incredible," Youko muttered to herself.
    Koshou laughed and glanced over his shoulder. "You're no ordinary person yourself."
    "I'm not doing anything so extraordinary."
    "Then how'd a pretty young thing like you get used to so much death?" As they ran down a hallway, Koshou's breathing told her he was close behind.
    "Long story," Youko replied with a thin smile. I fought the pretender's army. And fighting meant killing. If she had faltered then, her supporters would have died. She couldn't very well have hidden behind the backs of those protecting her, fearing soiling her own hands with blood.
    In any case, a throne is a thing purchased with blood. That is what the Royal En told her. Even had she received the throne from Heaven without shedding a drop, it would have been impossible to hold onto it without the rivers flowing red. The pretender's army would still have to be vanquished, internal rebellion crushed, criminals executed.
    One way or the other, better not to be a coward.
    "Youshi!" came Suzu's cry, as the sansui soared over the roof and landed in the courtyard.
    Youko sensed murderous intent to her right and crouched down. She heard the sound of enemy armor and a slashing attack whistled over her head. She answered in the same direction, reaching out to parry and thrust in return. Against this weapon--that could pierce the toughest youma--the armor was so much tissue paper. The sword bisected the enemy like a hot knife through butter. She yanked it out and whipped it around, flinging the gore off the blade. Not a drop adhered to the shining steel.
    "That sword is some piece of work," said Koshou, with a grim smile.
    At the back of her thoughts, Youko heard a voiceless whisper. Hankyo-- She didn't have to ask if he'd returned. Go! she told him. Get to where Shoukou is and cull the enemy's forces.
    There was no reply, but Youko knew that her orders had been delivered.

    When Suzu's squad arrived at the castle keep, for reasons unknown, the grounds before the governor's residence were awash with blood. Suzu reflexively brought her hand to her mouth.
    Koshou raced up behind her. "How did this happen?"
    "Our allies must have gotten here first," was Youko's quick explanation, as she jumped over the corpses. She was breathing hard but her steps were steady.
    "Huh---" said Koshou, with a befuddled expression, casting a puzzled glance at the corpses. He planted himself beside the door. The voices of the men bringing up the rear fell to a hush.
    Koshou delivered a single blow with the broadsword. The thick wood splintered. The rest of the assault group piled on, and a second and then third attack rent it in two. The tip of Koshou's sword still embedded in the wood, door collapsed inward.

    The building appeared empty, quiet as death. There was no sign of any human presence. Bodies were strewn across the floor as if cut down in the middle of a conversation. They opened