I do not own Inuyasha, nor do I own any of its associated characters. The regiments mentioned did indeed exist, and some still do, but the characters within are all fictional, and the events contained within never occurred. That, I believe, covers all of the legal issues.
The Red Hackle
Prologue:
The midday sun's rays shone clearly over a large unplowed field, where a huddled shape sat muttering in a tongue not known by living man nor beast. A pelt of white fur encased the figure, with a baboon's face and upper jaw to be found where one would expect the head to be located. The jawbone of the baboon was curiously missing, and in its place, what appeared to be the lower half a human face could be seen. Naraku, the master of deception and draftsman of slaughter, the half-demon in whose terrible breast beat the heart of the crippled bandit Onigumo, and whose body and core of being was formed from the unholy union of a horde of demons and a human body and soul, was in the midst of constructing his newest bid to both rid himself of the bothersome hanyou Inuyasha and his companions, and gain the shards of the Shikon Jewel that were in their possession.
"When this ritual is completed," Naraku said to himself, "I will have a legion of powerful soldiers at my command, and then nothing, no one can stand before me!" The preliminary procedures complete, he set to weaving the spell that would summon his terrible combatants with his hallmark precision and attention to detail. If a single mistake was made, there was no sure way to predict what would be summoned onto the very large field. Further and further the ritual progressed, the spell's power waxing and Naraku's success growing more near. As he started the penultimate incantation, a troop of militia horsemen appeared on the top of a neighboring hill. These men and boys were but peasant farmer and the like who were rudimentary trained and armed with spears and short bows, and had been called out to investigate the strange lights and sounds produced by Naraku's spell.
Naraku was merely annoyed by the horsemen, as he had been certain that he had driven off or killed all of the farmers and residents within the outlying area. The militiamen, driven by curiosity, were drawing close, and Naraku knew that they would be on him well before he could complete his ritual. If he stopped casting now, the spell would destabilize and the result could very well be a blast of demonic energy that would consume him, the horsemen, and everything within a five-mile radius. Conversely, if he continued to cast, the militia could, however unlikely, cause him bodily harm. While he held such stopgap soldiers with disdain, he knew all too well that appearances could be deceiving, and there was no telling just what exactly he was facing until they revealed their abilities. His decision was a compromise. He would continue the spell as far as he could, to minimize the chance of a catastrophic destabilization.
The militia galloped towards him, and, when in earshot, the leader hailed the hanyou. "You there! What is your business, and what have you done to the farmers who lived here?" The leader's hail went unanswered by the figure cloaked in fur, and this prompted a distinct rise in the militia captain's ire. "Cut him down! Slay him where he stands, boys!" The horsemen clumsily wheeled into a line and, with spears couched like lances, the line of horses and men rocketed towards Naraku. The half-demon leapt into the air even as the lance points passed through the space he had previously occupied. Naraku could now see the fear in their hearts, the sheer terror that was overridden by sheer bravado and false confidence in their numbers, and he then knew them to be only farmers and laborers. His mouth spreading in a cruel grin, the fiend shot through the line of men and horses, slaying both with a relish and an abandon characteristic of one who takes immense pleasure in the pain and death of others. Even as the still warm bodies collapsed onto the cold, untilled soil, Naraku remembered the spell. He turned, and saw that a humongous area of land, including most of the field and a large part of the neighboring properties, was now blocked from his sight by a wall of swirling, eddying lights and colors.
Good, thought Naraku, the spell is still relatively stable, and his legion might still be what is summoned. Unfortunately, the nature of the spell did not allow him to resume casting, and he could only wait and see what was summoned. The wall gradually faded, and what it gradually revealed indeed appeared to be a large group of figures, some on horseback, some with wagons, but the majority on foot, and standing in ranks. The barrier was now transparent, but still tangible, and it seemed to Naraku that the spell was almost finished. He studied the still forms in the short time before the barrier fell and the figures awakened. They were men. All of that work, all of that toil, and what did he receive? Men! He examined them further, in an attempt to discern what made these men so worthy of fear.
They were over two thousand, five hundred in number, all wearing khaki coats with long sleeves and high domed white cloth-covered helmets that swept down in the back to protect the neck, but no other visible armor. Five hundred seemed to be dedicated horsemen, sitting on their mounts in ranks, while other horses were to be seen towards the back with the wagons that had no riders, but saddles, reins, and bridals. These horsemen had long, curved swords slightly similar to a katana hanging from their belts, and there were what appeared to be a wooden club with a metal shaft embedded in it slung across each man's back. They wore khaki pants that were much slimmer and much less baggy than those worn by the men of Japan. They wore not sandals, but tall black boots.
Those on foot seemed no less strange, wearing not pants of any sort, but skirts of colored wool woven into strange square patterns, and they too wore boots, but these were only shin-high, and covered by white leggings and bright checkered coverings. A fur-lined pouch hung from a chain attached to each man's belt. Half of these footmen had a little red fluffy feather, like a peacock's, stuck into their helmet. The majority of these men each carried a club-like instrument, larger cousins of the ones the horsemen had, and no swords. White belts and straps criss-crossed their chests. A few, less than 250, carried large, straight, and broad-bladed swords with large, hand-encompassing hilts with red velvet lining. He could see two groups of drummers and men carrying what he assumed was an instrument, but was not certain of its purpose. It consisted of a bag with some slim shafts of wood sticking out of it. A number of long, black tubes, each on a pair of wheels and a sheet of metal forming a guard on its front, lay hooked up to horses and a large number of wagons were to be seen in the rear of this mass of men. Three men were standing with their back to him, facing the rest of the humans. Two wore the strange skirts and swords of the footmen, and one wore the strange pants and curved sword of the horsemen.
At that moment, the spell broke, and the men snapped into consciousness. They were startled, and the three men in the front turned to face him almost immediately. They spoke in a language that Naraku could not understand. Undaunted, they called out in what seemed to be a different language, but he still could not discern their meaning. This was repeated, with another different language. When they did not receive a reply, one of the ones in the skirts, this one with one of the red feathers on his helmet, finally called out in rough, unpolished, but understandable Japanese, "Who are you, and where is this place?"
"The name of this place does not matter. I am Naraku, and that does matter. I am your master, the one who summoned you here. You shall obey me, support my endeavors, kill my foes, and whatever else I see fit for you to do. If you prove yourselves worthy, I shall reward you and return you to your home. Fail me, and you shall share the fate of those who lie behind me." The prone and grisly forms of the slaughtered militiamen caught their eyes, and they stared back at Naraku with a kind of grim understanding, and then surprised him by shouting at their forces and running back to the line of men.
The two front rows of soldiers raised their club-like weapons, by what appeared to be the wrong end. Another shout from one of the men, and the air was shattered by a deafening peal of thunder, though not a single cloud was in the sky, the rows of men were immediately concealed by a thick cloud of smoke, and Naraku could feel dozens of projectiles striking him simultaneously. The force of the projectiles striking him was like nothing he had ever experienced before, and he felt each projectile tearing, smashing, and ripping through his body. He did not know just how much damage was being done, but it would be foolish to just stand there, so he quickly rifted out of sight, to return to his castle. He would have his revenge on these soldiers.
Once the smoke had cleared, the soldiers searched for the corpse they were certain would be there. Upon finding nothing but a splash or two of ichor, the three soldiers that had tried to communicate with Naraku held a council. The soldier who had spoken Japanese, a man of medium height and heavy, broad build with gray hair that was turning silver, appeared to have command, for he rapped out orders to the others, and the cavalrymen soon split into four identical groups and rode out in different directions, one group for each point of a compass, and some of the infantry manned the wagons. The bands struck up a tune, and the column marched north, leaving nothing but several dozen small, empty metal casings strewn about the ground.
Please read and review. Flames will be ignored.