Kamizuru Clan Headquarters, Border Region
Ishikawa had commanded shinobi forces for thirty-two years and learned to read disasters in the faces of messengers before they spoke a word. The young scout who burst into his command tent carried the particular combination of exhaustion and suppressed horror that meant something had gone catastrophically wrong.
"Lord Ishikawa," the messenger gasped while mud dripped onto the tent floor. "The northern camps have gone silent."
Ishikawa set down the supply manifest and stood from behind the war table where maps of the Land of Iron's border region spread across the surface. He had positioned over three hundred shinobi across twelve camps along the border with check-in protocols every six hours that had never failed in four months.
"Which camps specifically?"
"All three in sector seven, my lord. Camp Fourteen, Fifteen, and Sixteen." The messenger pulled a blood-stained scroll from his pouch with trembling hands. "They missed their dawn reports. We sent scouts to investigate Camp Fourteen approximately two hours ago."
"What did the scouts find?"
"Everyone is dead, my lord. All twenty-four shinobi stationed there." The messenger's voice dropped lower and his eyes focused on the ground. "The scouts couldn't identify all the pieces. The ground itself had been carved up as if something had slashed through solid earth with the same ease as cutting through flesh."
Ishikawa walked around the table and examined the sector seven region on the largest map. Those three camps formed a defensive triangle that covered the main approach route from the Land of Iron's central territories toward the border.
"Was this a Yotsuki assault?"
"The scouts said the pattern suggested a single attacker rather than multiple combatants, my lord. No signs of the Yotsuki's characteristic lightning techniques. No scorch marks or electrical burns." The messenger unrolled the scroll and set it on the table. "Only cutting wounds. Hundreds of them across all the bodies. Deep gouges carved into the earth in repeating crescent-shaped patterns."
Ishikawa picked up the scroll and read through the scout's report. A single combatant eliminating twenty-four trained Kamizuru shinobi without sustaining injuries or leaving evidence of techniques beyond pure bladework suggested either a phenomenally skilled swordsman or something else entirely.
"What's the status of Camps Fifteen and Sixteen?"
"Scout teams are investigating both locations now, my lord. We should receive their reports within the next hour."
Ishikawa studied the map and calculated distances. If someone had struck Camp Fourteen first during the night, they could reach the other two locations before dawn if they moved with sufficient speed. The camps were spaced approximately five kilometers apart through mountainous terrain.
"Issue immediate orders to all remaining camps," Ishikawa said. "Full alert status effective immediately. No one travels alone. Double the sentry rotations and extend the perimeter watches. I want every sensor-type shinobi we have scanning continuously for unusual chakra signatures in the northern region." He handed the scroll back to the messenger. "Send word to our main force. We need reinforcements moved to the border positions within twenty-four hours."
The messenger bowed and turned toward the tent entrance.
"Wait," Ishikawa called out. "Did the scouts identify any tracks leading away from Camp Fourteen?"
"The tracks led north into the mountains, my lord. Toward the Land of Iron's interior territories rather than back toward our positions or Yotsuki-controlled areas."
Ishikawa dismissed the messenger and returned his attention to the map. The Land of Iron had granted them permission to establish those camps as part of the formal agreement with Daimyo Shinji. The slashing patterns reminded him of samurai sword techniques, but no samurai alive possessed the skill to accomplish what had been described.
Someone had just killed two dozen of his shinobi on Land of Iron soil with apparent ease. Either Daimyo Shinji had broken their agreement and deployed some unknown asset, or a third party had entered the conflict with capabilities that exceeded normal expectations.
Ishikawa needed answers quickly before this situation destabilized the entire campaign.
---
Land of Iron, Daimyo's Palace
Shinji sat on the raised dais in the main audience hall with his advisors arranged in positions of descending rank on either side. Morning sunlight filtered through the high windows and illuminated the polished wooden floors. A samurai in full ceremonial armor knelt before him with his helmet tucked under his left arm.
"You're reporting that three Kamizuru camps have been completely destroyed?" Shinji leaned forward slightly. "All of them?"
"Yes, my lord. Our border patrol units discovered the sites at dawn during their standard sweeps. There were no survivors at any of the three locations." The samurai kept his eyes lowered. "The level of destruction was extensive. We counted seventy-two confirmed dead across all three camps."
Takeo, Shinji's eldest advisor, cleared his throat. "The Kamizuru leadership will immediately assume we violated our agreement, my lord. They will demand explanations and potentially retaliate."
"I haven't violated anything," Shinji said. He looked directly at the kneeling samurai. "Did any of our forces engage the Kamizuru camps?"
"No, my lord. Our nearest patrol was positioned approximately three kilometers from the closest camp site. The patrol commander reported hearing nothing unusual during the night watch."
Shinji stood and walked to the window that overlooked the main courtyard where ranks of samurai practiced their kata in synchronized formations. He had invested months of careful negotiation to establish the current agreements with the Kamizuru clan. He couldn't allow some unknown factor to destroy everything he had built.
"Someone is deliberately attempting to destabilize the regional balance," Takeo said. "If the Kamizuru leadership becomes convinced that we sanctioned these attacks, they will view it as justification to break their own agreements."
"I'm fully aware of the implications," Shinji replied while turning back to face the assembled advisors. "Prepare a formal diplomatic message to the Kamizuru leadership. Express our condolences and make absolutely clear that we had no involvement. Offer our full cooperation in investigating what occurred."
Another advisor, Hideaki, spoke up. "With respect, my lord, they won't believe our denials. From the Kamizuru perspective, we have the strongest possible motive to want them removed from our territory."
Shinji returned to his seat. Hideaki was correct. The Kamizuru would suspect his involvement regardless of what diplomatic messages were sent. He needed to demonstrate his sincerity through concrete action.
"Summon the Mifune to the palace immediately," Shinji said.
The kneeling samurai raised his head slightly in surprise. "You wish to speak with the Mifune directly, my lord?"
"Yes. I want him here within the next hour."
The samurai bowed and departed. Shinji settled back in his seat and watched his advisors exchange uncertain glances.
Takeo shifted his weight. "Okisuke is very young to handle a task of this sensitivity, my lord. He only assumed the position of Mifune three months ago after Michikatsu's disappearance. Do you believe he possesses the experience necessary?"
"Okisuke may be young but he holds the title of Mifune, which makes this investigation his responsibility," Shinji said. "Unless you're volunteering to conduct the investigation yourself?"
Takeo fell silent.
Fifty-three minutes later, Mifune Okisuke entered the audience hall and knelt before Shinji's dais. He wore traditional samurai armor without unnecessary decoration, and his katana rested at his left side in its plain wooden scabbard.
"You summoned me, my lord."
"Three Kamizuru camps were destroyed last night in the northern border region. Seventy-two shinobi were killed with no survivors." Shinji watched Okisuke's face carefully. The young Mifune's expression remained perfectly neutral. "I need you to determine who was responsible for these attacks and why they occurred."
"Do we have any intelligence regarding the attacker's identity or capabilities?"
"The evidence at all three sites suggests a single individual with exceptional blade skills based on the wound patterns and damage to the surrounding terrain." Shinji leaned forward slightly. "The Kamizuru will assume our forces were responsible. I need you to prove otherwise and identify the actual culprit before this situation escalates into open warfare."
Okisuke nodded. "I'll require access to all three camp sites and authorization to question any potential witnesses among our border patrols."
"You have both. Take whatever personnel and resources you need. I expect daily reports on your progress delivered directly to me." Shinji gestured toward the door. "The first camp site is located in the northern sector approximately thirty kilometers from here."
Okisuke rose and bowed before turning toward the exit.
"Okisuke," Shinji called out as the Mifune reached the doorway. The younger man stopped and turned back. "Exercise extreme caution during this investigation. Whoever carried out these attacks killed seventy-two trained shinobi in a single night. Don't make the mistake of underestimating their capabilities."
"Understood, my lord."
Okisuke departed and left Shinji staring at the empty doorway while his advisors maintained respectful silence. He had taken a calculated risk by allowing a foreign shinobi clan to operate within his territory in exchange for their assistance with his long-term plans. But now someone had transformed that calculated risk into a potential catastrophe.
---
Iron Forest, Land of Iron
Michikatsu waited in the forest clearing as moonlight filtered through the canopy and created shifting patterns of silver and shadow on the ground. He had cleaned his sword meticulously after eliminating the third camp. The blade gleamed in its altered organic state with the flesh covering smooth and unblemished while the eyes embedded along its length remained closed.
Footsteps approached from the north. Michikatsu tracked the sound with his upper pair of eyes while his middle and lower sets scanned the surrounding forest for any additional movement.
Muzan emerged from between the trees with his white suit jacket contrasting sharply against the darkness. His dark curly hair fell past his shoulders and his red eyes caught the moonlight with an unnatural gleam. He stopped at the clearing's edge and studied Michikatsu.
"You've been productive during my absence," Muzan observed.
Michikatsu nodded. He had systematically eliminated three camps according to their agreed timeline and left seventy-two Kamizuru shinobi dead across the northern border region.
"The Kamizuru leadership is aware of the attacks now," Muzan continued while walking deeper into the clearing until only three meters separated them. "The Daimyo's forces have discovered all three camp sites and begun investigating."
"That outcome was anticipated," Michikatsu replied.
Muzan tilted his head and examined Michikatsu with those red eyes that perceived far more than normal human vision allowed.
"The Kamizuru will suspect Shinji of betraying their agreement. Shinji will suspect the Kamizuru of manufacturing a pretext to expand their territorial claims. Both sides will become paranoid and defensive." Muzan's expression shifted into something that might have been satisfaction. "Once they're actively fighting each other instead of cooperating, I can reveal myself as the legitimate heir and offer an alternative to the chaos Shinji has created."
"What do you require from me in the next phase?" Michikatsu asked.
"Continue eliminating Kamizuru positions but vary your pattern. Strike camps in different regions so they can't predict where you'll appear next." Muzan's red eyes reflected the moonlight. "Squeeze them as much as you can."