Chapter 186: Unearthing
After swiftly digesting the events around the vehicles for three days under the power of the cards, Liang En had a general understanding of what had transpired here.
Evidently, the Japanese troops stationed around the airport back then seemed to have been transporting something in their vehicles. However, en route, they encountered local guerrilla forces and met their end in the ensuing conflict.
Initially concerned that these guerrillas might have found what the Japanese had hidden, Liang En soon realized that since the conflict erupted around the vehicle, the treasure was likely distant from that spot.
The treasure site was approximately a two-hour journey away from this location. Furthermore, after the guerrillas eliminated the Japanese officers, they didn't head towards the wooded area the Japanese had initially been aiming for but instead chose a different route to depart.
"What's our next move?" Fan Meng quietly inquired of Liang En, observing him leaning against the wreckage of the truck, unmoving for a good two or three minutes.
"Follow me. I know where we should head next," Liang En said, leaning on his cane and departing the quagmire, shouldering all their equipment as they set off in a certain direction.
"I reckon if the enemy could transport supplies in a truck, the quantity must have been considerable," Liang En remarked, parting the thorns obstructing their path.
"In this situation, their route choices wouldn't be numerous. Though decades have passed, tropical rainforests can erase many traces, but not all," he continued.
Pausing, Liang En pointed at a tree. "Look, it appears there are marks on that tree, signs of past human manipulation."
Blessed by the card "Keen Observation (R)," Liang En could discern things from the surroundings that others might miss. This particular tree showed a distinct contrast between its sparse and lush sides, with clear signs of human tooling on the sparse side.
This tree wasn't an isolated case. Since their departure, Liang En had noticed several trees in their direction exhibiting similar marks.
Given that the group back then wasn't acting alone and needed to transport substantial supplies, they had to clear obstacles along their path.
Although years had passed, the growth of trees had almost concealed all signs of past manipulation. Yet, with careful observation, one could still detect some unnatural features.
"You're right; these indeed seem to have been artificially manipulated," Fan Meng confirmed after closely inspecting the marks on a tree that Liang En had pointed out.
"If I'm not mistaken, these trees seem to have been trimmed or cut by someone to clear a pathway. So, if we follow these signs, we should be able to find the destination of their previous actions."
Following these organic markers, Liang En and Fan Meng eventually arrived beneath a small mound measuring only about thirty to forty meters high. Here, they immediately noticed something suspicious:
The entire mound seemed to have been partially covered by what appeared to be the aftermath of a small-scale mudslide. Although vegetation now veiled the top, traces of the mudslide remained visible.
"This mudslide doesn't seem natural; it resembles the result of a small-scale explosion," Fan Meng deduced swiftly as a professional, examining the scene closely.
"In this remote, desolate place, during a time of scarce ammunition towards the end of the war, conducting such a sizable explosion likely aimed at concealing something."
After confirming the secret atop this mound, the two took out metal detectors they carried and began their investigation. Unexpectedly, as they approached the hill with their newly opened detector, an alarm sounded in their headphones.
Digging a few shovelfuls in a chosen spot, Liang En and Fan Meng quickly unearthed something that left them slightly stunned.
"The brutality of the Japanese knows no bounds," Liang En muttered softly, looking at the rusted, yet still identifiable, Type 99 rifles entangled with bones.
Evidently, the likelihood of the Japanese soldiers here meeting an accidental demise seemed slim; they probably fell victim to silencing after learning the secret.
Especially after unearthing multiple skeletons, their initial assumption appeared increasingly probable.
Each of the six skulls they unearthed exhibited close-range gunshot wounds, clearly inflicted by pistols judging by the damage to the skulls.
Considering that during World War II, the Japanese didn't equip every soldier with a sidearm like the Americans did, these bodies evidently fell victim to foul play.
The ability to silence their own spoke volumes. Consequently, Liang En and Fan Meng secured a campsite, preparing to excavate the slope where they had made their discovery.
Fortunately, possibly due to the scarcity of resources for the Japanese towards the war's end, even explosives were in short supply. Thus, the layers of soil weren't overly thick.
Following the area where the metal detector reacted most strongly on the slope, the two dug down. Just past 5 p.m., Liang En felt his shovel tip hit something metallic.
By the time night fell, a wooden plank laid askew on the slope appeared before them. This roughly 3-meter square wooden board, fastened by crude iron nails, formed a 60-degree angle with the ground.
Due to the damp, warm climate of the area, this square plank, which had sides of over 3 meters, seemed severely decayed. Liang En's shovel had pierced through the rotted wood to a metal plate beneath.
"Looks like we don't have to postpone this task until tomorrow," Liang En smiled after lightly severing a substantial arm-thick section of the decayed wood. "But we might need to pull a bit of a night shift."
Though in the wilderness, the proximity to human settlements mitigated significant dangers. Therefore, working at night remained relatively safe.
Moreover, before departing the plantation, each had borrowed a Philippine-made M1911 from the plantation just in case they encountered any wild animals.
Under the illumination of their headlamps, the two swiftly cleared the decayed wood, then used their shovels to break the rusted, yet still functional, large lock and open the heavily rusted door.
At that moment, they discovered the door wasn't made of iron but instead fashioned from downed aircraft wreckage. Its primary material being aluminum helped preserve it reasonably intact to this day.
"At last, we've broken through." After catching his breath, Fan Meng wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked, "Shall we enter now?"
"Let's wait until tomorrow," Liang En suggested, also catching his breath. "Enclosed spaces like this need proper ventilation after a long time. And who knows what those Japanese soldiers prepared inside the cave; it wouldn't be wise to face any traps in our current state."
While they conversed, a faint, musty odor of decay wafted from the cave. Sensing it, Liang En and Fan Meng immediately distanced themselves from the entrance, selecting a spot several meters away, setting up camp, and preparing to resume work the next day.
Though Liang En could confirm from earlier images that the crates and barrels didn't contain any biochemical weapons, being sealed for seven to eight decades, the tunnel could contain various unpredictable gases. Hence, a bit of caution was always wise.
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Table of content - Next Chapter
Chapter 187: Evidence of Guilt
This is where the line divides between archaeology and tomb raiding. If it were tomb raiders, they might have to brave toxic gases, but for Liang En, he could afford to patiently wait for the stench inside to dissipate.
"I feel like someone died in here," Fan Meng spoke from inside the tent. "The smell of death is distinct from anything else rotting."
"I don't think there's any need to guess that. Just think, we dug up six skulls outside. Those piles might make up 2 to 3 more. Judging by this kind of death, I suspect that entire Japanese unit probably met their end here."
Compared to their previous explorations, Liang En and his team clearly didn't need to collect the corpses of those who had become fully deceased, making their job noticeably easier.
The next morning, after a simple breakfast, Liang En and his companions headed toward the cave. By now, the foul odor from the entrance had dissipated.
Good ventilation had its advantages, yet it wasn't without its downsides. For instance, if there were any organic materials inside, a night of such ventilation would have likely led to their demise.
However, Liang En wasn't concerned about that at the moment. Considering the level of dampness in the place and its relatively loose seal, any organic matter would have decayed long ago.
Equipped with gas masks and helmets, Liang En and his team, one after the other, switched on their headlamps and ventured into the circular opening, about two meters in diameter.
"There are little Japs' bones up ahead, watch your step," with a clatter, Fan Meng, leading the way, kicked away a femur he'd accidentally snapped, then continued forward.
As they proceeded, more and more bones appeared in the cave. Judging by the number of skulls and pelvises, Liang En could safely assume that everyone from that unit, excluding officers, probably met their end here.
Examining the scattered lacquerware cups, ceramic bottles, and bones with no visible injuries strewn across the floor, it seemed these unfortunate cannon fodder were likely poisoned outright.
As for the fellows outside, they were probably the officers' confidants, but even they didn't anticipate the officers' ruthlessness, ending up disposed of alongside the others, their bodies discarded in the wilderness.
After traversing the tunnel strewn with remains, they arrived at the second door. Unlike the first, this door was a hefty sealed one, reminiscent of bulkhead doors on ships.
Considering the multitude of Japanese ships sunk during World War II, this door likely originated from one of those vessels, repurposed and installed here by the troops.
Perhaps due to the slight upward incline of the entire tunnel, the moisture hadn't affected this iron door much. Though rusty, it hadn't deteriorated to the point of being easily pried open.
"We might need explosives for this." After inspecting the iron door, Fan Meng turned to Liang En. "It doesn't seem as sturdy as the previous one. A small amount of explosives should do the trick."
"Do we really need explosives?" Liang En and Fan Meng switched positions, inspecting the door. Liang En reached out and brushed off the dust. As he did, a palm-sized circular observation window appeared before them.
"Initially, you might've thought this was like a bank's blast-proof door, but it's actually a bulkhead door from a ship. So, if we remove this glass, the rest should be manageable."
"The dust here was really thick. I completely missed there was a window up there." Fan Meng checked and remarked. "The seal near the glass has decayed. Give me five minutes; I can sort this out."
In the next five minutes, Fan Meng removed the glass and then, using a few wires, unlocked the latch. Together, they pushed the door open and stepped inside.
It was a room no more than 50 square meters, reinforced entirely with reinforced concrete, much like the tunnel they'd just traversed. However, judging by the damaged parts of the walls, this reinforcement seemed more makeshift than effective.
This secret warehouse wasn't some permanent fortification but a makeshift one the Japanese hastily constructed nearing their defeat. Consequently, both the door and the walls exuded a sense of makeshift construction.
Inside the room were the boxes and barrels Liang En had seen through the tarot cards, all neatly stacked.
Opening a barrel, he found chunks resembling cow dung, emitting a foul, urine-like odor.
"Are the Japs crazy? Hiding cow dung like this." After prying open fifteen to sixteen metal barrels, Liang En was astonished to find the same contents in each.
"No, this isn't cow dung." With a serious expression, Fan Meng inspected a chunk from one of the barrels. "This is compressed, from what I've seen during my missions in West Africa."
Inspecting the boxes, they found mostly deteriorated ones with glass bottles inside, containing solidified white powder.
Considering the compressed chunks in the barrels, it was clear what this white powder was. It seemed the Japanese knew these substances weren't fit to be exposed to sunlight, hence their covert storage.
"These are despicable people." Liang En sighed slowly, recalling from books he'd read that during the war, the Japanese used trafficking various drugs as part of their plan to conquer China.
The invaders' leaders used these drugs as a weapon to weaken the people's will to resist, generating income for their war efforts and puppet regimes in the occupied territories.
For these inhumane aggressors, sustaining war with drugs was an everyday affair. What Liang En and his team had discovered was just a drop in the ocean of their atrocities.
Fortunately, not all the boxes contained such troublesome items. For instance, among those similar boxes, Liang En discovered a pile of vacuum tubes, two Type 14 pistols, and a Type 94 non-commissioned officer's sword.
During that era, these items held significant value, but due to the passage of time, most were now unusable.
For example, the sword Liang En had high hopes for turned out to be corroded beyond use once drawn from its sheath.
"The items in this warehouse are probably worth over three million dollars. What's our next move?" After checking everything, Fan Meng turned to Liang En.
"We definitely have to report this and make everything public," Liang En said, eyeing a notebook wrapped in oilcloth.
This oilcloth had been stored with the sword. Upon unwrapping it, Liang En discovered it contained records left by the Japanese about trafficking in the Southeast Asian archipelago.
Having seen these pieces of evidence, Liang En immediately decided to expose everything about this place.
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Table of content - Next Chapter
Chapter 188: The Japanese Sword
Considering the specifics of the area, Liang En not only reported to the local authorities but also uploaded and made public everything he discovered on the internet.
Moreover, he used a "Detection (N)" card to help identify the most historically significant item within the entire cave.
To his surprise, the most historically valuable item wasn't the ledger chronicling the atrocities of the Japanese invaders, but a heavily rusted Type 94 military sword.
Observing this peculiar sight, Liang En fell into contemplation. It struck him that the card pinpointed historical value, not monetary worth.
Under normal circumstances, a historical record should hold more value than an ancient Japanese sword. The current situation was evidently abnormal.
However, considering the impending handover of items to the local authorities, Liang En merely glanced at the sword under his headlamp before setting it down and exiting the cave. He then proceeded to disseminate today's findings as much as possible.
A day later, when local authorities arrived, the footage Liang En had captured about the Japanese invaders had amassed over 100,000 views and was steadily increasing.
After brief negotiations, Liang En completed the transfer of items. As per local laws, the Filipinos paid him 10,000 pesos, roughly equivalent to £150, as a reward.
Additionally, at Liang En's request, and with upper-level approval, the group allowed him to take the rusted Japanese sword as a memento from this expedition, documenting it through photographs.
"What's so special about this sword?" Fan Meng inquired curiously as they walked back to the plantation. "You were given the chance to take something from that box as a keepsake. Why choose this rusted, broken sword?"
"Because this sword is somewhat unique," Liang En replied, drawing the sword and explaining, "The connection between the blade and hilt isn't tight, indicating they aren't a matched set."
"That was common during World War II," Fan Meng raised an eyebrow. "I recall many Japanese officers, being descendants of samurai, took their family swords into battle."
"You're correct, but the issue is if it were a modified blade, the connection between the blade and hilt would be tight, not loose like this," Liang En said, lightly shaking the blade with two fingers.
With a slight effort from Liang En, the entire blade noticeably shifted. Clearly, this was abnormal since a loose blade wouldn't be effective in causing harm.
Especially for those carrying ancestral swords into battle, such loose assembly risked damaging the blade, clearly detrimental to its preservation.
"This is indeed peculiar," Fan Meng remarked, eyeing the wobbling blade. "If the owner of this sword truly descended from a samurai, it's hard to imagine them mistreating their family's symbol like this."
"More importantly, the rust on this sword is odd," Liang En stopped, then gently scraped the blade against a tree bark.
As he did, some yellow-brown rust fell from the blade, revealing patches that looked like plastic beneath.
"This rust seems applied," Fan Meng widened his eyes, noticing that the blade seemed coated with something like plastic before rust accumulated on it.
"I suspected as much," Liang En nodded. "Initially, the rust seemed somewhat artificial, as if someone had applied it later. But I didn't expect it to be fake rust."
For Liang En, this sword was the most valuable item in the cave. Even though mental health drugs might hold value, they were certainly not things he should tamper with. Thus, even without knowing the sword's origin for now, it undoubtedly held the highest value.
Upon returning to the plantation, Liang En began examining the sword. After further inspection, he realized its condition was worse than anticipated.
While most parts of the blade remained intact, the protective coating applied earlier had vanished from some areas, leading to extensive rust in the unprotected spots.
Some rust patches were superficial, but others had penetrated deep into the sword, rendering it unrepairable under normal circumstances.
Having confirmed this, Liang En understood why the Filipino experts were willing to gift him the sword. They had also realized its irreparable state and opted to pass what they deemed scrap metal to Liang En.
Clearly, this level of damage was beyond repair using current technology. Even the "Restoration (N)" card would be insufficient.
As a section of the blade had rusted through, although it hadn't snapped yet, traditional repair methods would demand a complete recast, significantly reducing the sword's value.
Moreover, the level of repair achievable with the "Restoration (N)" card was akin to that of a top-tier restoration master. However, considering the extent of corrosion on the blade, even the most skilled artisan could only either shorten the blade or insert a segment in the middle.
In essence, to restore this sword to its original state, it would likely require consuming a precious "Restoration (R)" card.
Though this sword didn't appear new, the historical value of a Japanese sword, even one with history, varied greatly. Further appraisal was necessary to determine the restoration process.
Carefully, Liang En removed the sword's hilt, a challenging process due to the severe rust on the tang. It took him quite some time to detach the deteriorated hilt.
"Wow, it's a Tachi!" After removing the deformed hilt, Liang En furrowed his brow slightly. He found it surprising that the tang concealed within the hilt was curved.
Liang En found this odd because most surviving ancient Japanese swords tended to be Tachi swords, and the prevalence of Tachi was closer to the present day compared to other types. Although a sword's history didn't entirely determine its value, longer historical existence often increased its worth.
Simultaneously, he noticed the mismatch between the shape of the tang and the groove carved on the handle meant to accommodate it. This explained why Liang En had felt the instability in the assembly when he had shaken the blade earlier.
For Japanese officers using family heirloom swords in battle, while they were required to use issued standard fittings, they often modified them to suit their family blades.
Therefore, this crude assembly suggested the previous owner of this sword had obtained a fine blade locally, then replaced their original tang with this one, altering the sword's true identity in the process.
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Table of content - Next Chapter
Chapter 189: The Famous Blade
The Japanese perception of swords greatly differs from that of people in other parts of the world. In many regions, a sword is often viewed as a unified whole, encompassing the hilt, sheath, and guard as integral parts of the sword.
However, the Japanese see the blade and its fittings separately. They consider the blade itself as the essence of the sword, while the fittings merely serve as its attire. Hence, they usually store the blade within a plain white sheath, only assembling the full set of fittings when venturing out.
These white sheaths are typically crafted from naturally dried unvarnished wood, containing fewer resins that might harm the sword.
On the other hand, the full set of fittings is lacquered, creating a completely sealed environment for the blade within. This condition, described by Japanese sword collectors as the blade being in a "breathless" state for an extended period, makes it more susceptible to rust.
Indeed, the reality confirms this. Hence, from a preservation standpoint, swords are often kept within the simple and pure "white sheath," allowing the blade to breathe freely. It's only when there's a need for public display or carrying that the full set of fittings is applied.
For Liang En, the appearance of the fittings around the blade mattered little; the true essence lay within the blade itself. As long as the blade remained intact, according to Japanese tradition, it could be regarded as a complete sword.
Considering the apparent mismatch between the blade and its fittings in the sword Liang En currently held, he surmised that this might be the result of someone hastily concealing a valuable blade in this location.
Finding a Japanese sword in the Philippines wasn't particularly strange, given that during Japan's Warring States period, many wandering samurai left their homeland to seek employment elsewhere.
These wandering warriors became highly sought-after mercenaries in various Southeast Asian countries, even establishing several Japanese enclaves in the region.
However, after the end of the Warring States period, the Tokugawa Shogunate imposed a national isolation policy, prohibiting overseas Japanese from returning home. Consequently, these Japanese warriors found themselves stranded in foreign lands.
Furthermore, the Tokugawa Shogunate exiled a group of Christian-believing warriors to the Philippines, injecting fresh blood into this overseas Japanese community.
Yet, this injection was temporary. Due to the isolation policy, these settlements gradually declined, and the weapons they carried naturally disappeared in these distant foreign lands.
Therefore, the blade Liang En now possessed was likely left behind by those overseas Japanese warriors from that era, subsequently acquired by the former owner of this military blade, a Japanese officer.
After conducting a comprehensive inspection of the entire sword, Liang En began cleaning the tang of the blade with the tools he had. Most of the sword's information was typically inscribed on the tang.
Using bamboo sticks and a brush, he meticulously removed the accumulated rust on the tang. When several rust spots were cleaned, faint traces of inscriptions became visible on the tang.
"It seems this is indeed a remarkable blade." After confirming the artificial carvings on the heavily rusted tang, Liang En sighed softly, as traditionally, only a master smith satisfied with their work would inscribe the tang.
Of course, the absence of inscriptions didn't necessarily diminish the quality of a Japanese sword. Some exceptional swords lacked inscriptions due to being made for particular ceremonies or shrines where inscriptions were prohibited.
There's also an extreme scenario where a significant portion of the tang, including the engraved portion, was cut off, creating an unmarked tang. These are known as "unsigned on the tang," prevalent among ancient swords, especially before the Muromachi period.
However, because the tang portion lacks the protective layer present on the blade, any rust or deterioration there is more severe than on the blade edge. Hence, except for a few strokes, discerning what was engraved there was practically impossible.
Oddly enough, conventional Japanese swords, whether Tachi or Katana, typically have inscriptions concentrated on one side of the tang. Yet, this particular sword's tang displayed inscriptions on both sides.
"It appears this is a sword with a story." Liang En mused as he observed the weathered inscriptions under the lamplight. Given that the rust on the blade was relatively recent, it was likely the consequence of improper storage for over half a century.
In other words, when the previous owner, a foreign military officer, found the sword, the inscriptions on the tang should have been present. It was highly probable that this person collected the sword upon discovering the inscriptions.
"I'll repair it once I return." When he reached this stage of cleaning, Liang En knew he had to halt. To acquire more information, he'd have to use a card to restore the blade, making it look as good as new. But this would complicate his explanation to customs; he acquired a broken blade but left with a restored one.
Over the next week, Liang En focused his efforts on renovating the plantation's drainage system. Only after completing the overall repair and ensuring it could withstand the upcoming typhoon season did he depart with Fan Meng, returning to Ireland.
Upon arriving home, he immediately entered his basement, placing the sword on a table and retrieving the only "Restoration (R)" card he had, examining the materials required for the sword's repair.
"Carbon steel, a complete set of grinding stones, a bucket filled with water, a furnace, all while consuming 6 legendary points—seems gathering these items won't be too challenging."
After discerning the necessary items through the power of the card, Liang En displayed an understanding expression.
Apparently, repairing the blade was much simpler than restoring the entire sword; it merely required steel and corresponding materials. Repairing the scabbard would likely be more complicated.
Once he confirmed that the "Restoration (R)" card could perfectly repair the blade, Liang En used it. At the moment the card was consumed, a handful of nails placed nearby transformed into a stream of light, enveloping the blade.
This elongated beam of light soared toward the furnace used for temporary metalwork on the ranch, intertwining with two flames erupting from the furnace.
With each infusion of fate points into the flames, they grew brighter. When their brightness reached a climax, they suddenly extinguished.
Subsequently, the grinding stones and the bucket of water intertwined within the light, emanating strange frictional sounds from within the light.
Finally, everything concluded. The grinding stones clattered to the ground, while the light encasing the blade returned to the table, quietly fading away, revealing the unblemished blade within.
"Let's see what's inscribed here." Liang En donned a pair of white gloves and picked up the sword, focusing on the inscription on the tang.
His initial inspection focused on the surface of the tang, the outer side when the sword was worn, as traditionally, this area would bear the maker's identity.
Thanks to Japan's historical use of Chinese characters, Liang En easily recognized the three characters carved on the tang.
"Kosei Saku—It seems I've truly stumbled upon a treasure this time." Liang En murmured softly because he understood what these three characters signified.
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Table of content - Next Chapter
Chapter 190: The Pei Sword of Tenkashimei
Japan boasts numerous top-tier swords, and among them is a nationally treasured blade known as Daichu Takamitsu.
Originally belonging to the Ashikaga clan, a military family during the Muromachi Shogunate era, this sword became a cherished heirloom. After the downfall of the shogunate, Toyotomi Hideyoshi claimed it as his own, later gifting it to the valiant general, Maeda Toshiie.
Historical records recount an experiment where this sword was used to test its cutting ability, astonishingly severing two bodies stacked atop one another in a single stroke.
Legend speaks of its ability to repel evil; it once banished a demon possessing Maeda Toshiie's daughter, Hōon-hime, and dispelled anomalies within Osaka Castle.
Daichu Takamitsu's creator, Tenkashimei, forged not just this blade but several others during his lifetime, though few have survived. Hence, its value remains exceedingly high.
Before Liang En lay this blade, another masterpiece by the same master, a true gem. For the master, only the swords he deemed flawless bore the three characters "Takamitsu's Work" engraved upon them.
Just this much made Liang En feel this journey was incredibly worthwhile. Yet, upon turning the blade to inspect the other side of the tang, he was struck by an even greater surprise.
For engraved on the reverse side of the tang was a cross, beneath which were inscribed three phrases: "Heaven and Earth share the same root; all things are one, with no distinction of rank or status."
At the bottom of these designs and words, in slightly smaller lettering, were four words, likely the name of the previous wielder of this blade.
"Tennō Chikakuni!" Staring at the inscription, Liang En widened his eyes. In his previous life, he had been an avid player of a certain game and had some impression of this name.
Tennō Chikakuni was a leader among the Christian rebels during the Shimabara Rebellion in the Edo period of Japan. He was the son of Itada Yoshitsune, a retainer of Konishi Yukinaga, later adopted by Tennō Shinbei and renamed Tennō Chikakuni.
Due to the execution of Konishi Yukinaga after the Battle of Sekigahara, his family fell from grace.
Growing up not as a warrior but in Nagasaki, Tennō embraced Christianity and studied Western medicine from Dutch residents in Japan.
If events had transpired differently, Tennō Chikakuni might have become a moderately renowned physician, living a peaceful life. However, the Tokugawa shogunate's suppression of Christianity and natural disasters in the Shimabara region changed everything.
In 1637, a peasant uprising erupted in Shimabara and Amakusa, joined by numerous rōnin left unemployed due to the establishment of the Tokugawa shogunate. They provided valuable leadership to the peasant rebels.
Given the local history of Christianity and the legend of a miraculous child's birth, the uprising centered on religion, electing Tennō Chikakuni as their leader.
As most of the rebel commanders were seasoned warriors with resolute determination, coupled with internal strife within the shogunate due to the incompetence of the third shogun, the shogunate initially suffered consecutive defeats.
At the end of 1637, shogunate senior retainer, Itakura Shigemasa, arrived in Kyushu to suppress the rebellion. However, both his offensives failed, prompting the shogunate to send Matsudaira Nobutsuna to oversee the campaign.
Upon receiving this news, Itakura Shigemasa considered it a lack of trust from the shogunate. Hence, on New Year's Day in 1638, he launched a final assault, resulting in the shogunate forces losing over 3,900 soldiers, with Itakura Shigemasa himself perishing in battle.
After Matsudaira Nobutsuna took charge and altered tactics to besiege instead of attacking, the rebel forces inside the castle dwindled due to food shortages. Meanwhile, the shogunate forces recruited from various regions increased.
Therefore, on February 17, 1638, a shogunate force of over ten thousand initiated a final assault. Hindered by hunger and internal traitors, on the 18th, the rebels were defeated, and Tennō Chikakuni, along with most inside the castle, perished.
Yes, most perished, not just the rebels. The shogunate forces killed everyone within the castle, sparing not even the elderly or infants in cradles, with only a handful managing to escape under cover of night.
This uprising made the shogunate realize the threat of foreign trade to traditional feudal economy and the threat of foreign religions to the shogunate itself. Consequently, in the second year after the uprising, in 1639, the shogunate issued the fifth Sakoku Edict.
This edict was the strictest of its kind. For instance, it allowed only one port for foreign trade with the Chinese and the Dutch, and prohibited all overseas religious influences on the country.
Furthermore, the shogunate abolished the previous red seal ship system, banning the import of foreign language books and materials. They either killed or exiled nearly all Christian believers.
Additionally, there's an interesting anecdote: the legendary swordsman Miyamoto Musashi, serving as a warrior under Ogasawara Nagatada, the lord of Nakatsu Castle, participated in this conflict. However, he was hit by a stone thrown by the rebel forces and didn't achieve anything noteworthy in battle.
This indicates that dueling one-on-one and engaging in a battlefield conflict are entirely different. Even if one is undefeated in countless duels, they could be easily dispatched by an ordinary soldier on the battlefield.
Just as Liang En was discerning the true nature of this sword, the blade produced five cards for him in one breath. For a blade that was part of a battle that changed Japan's history and resembled a relic of religion, this was fitting.
"It seems this sword is the personal sword of that Tenkashimei, Tennō Chikakuni." Liang En muttered softly while rubbing the blade's surface with gloved hands after confirming its details through the cards.
Although history didn't document it, Liang En could roughly speculate on the sword's story. After all, when the castle fell during the rebellion, it was nighttime, leaving a possibility for a few individuals to escape.
From the current scenario, it's highly probable that Tennō Chikakuni entrusted someone with his personal sword before succumbing in battle.
To the Japanese, a warrior's sword was akin to their soul. Hence, it made sense for Tennō Chikakuni to have someone take away his sword before his demise.
Subsequently, this sword might have fallen into the hands of a Christian samurai and then, along with this samurai, been exiled to the Philippines, remaining dormant for centuries until discovered by a certain foreign military officer during World War II.
Since Japan during the war depicted Western nations, including Western religions, as enemies, this officer had no choice but to temporarily conceal the sword.
Anticipating the surrender, and the subsequent confiscation of all weapons, the invading military officer disguised the sword and hid it in that crude hiding spot, intending to retrieve it later, unaware that the guerrilla forces would be annihilated.
Thus, the sword remained in that cave for over half a century until Liang En, through diligent investigation, unearthed it and, with the aid of the cards' power, restored it, discovering this forgotten part of history.
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