I'm not dead. I'm just depressed. I quit my job, by the way, for I have no control over my life but I'm still alive.


INTERVIEWER: Could you please state your preferred name, region of origin and occupation?

████: Sure. Um, you can call me ████. I'm from the southern region of Amphibia and I am a journalist who had been covering the events of the Sand Wars up in the northeast region. Oh, and can you guys hide my name once we're done?

INTERVIEWER: That's of no issue. Still, quite a distance from home. If I recall, your region was involved in the Eddy War at the coast. Why cover the Sand Wars that took place at the other side of the continent?

████: Because everybody was already covering the Eddy War. When you're a journalist, or a war correspondent in this case, you need to cover the rare, juicy news and not just follow trends.

INTERVIEWER: I see. My apologies for the off-topic question then. Let's get back on track; what can you tell us about the war?

████: That's a very vague question. You're gonna have to be more specific.

INTERVIEWER: I am to believe that the war was between Newtopia's Royal Military, led by a General Gavilan, against a collection of bandits and misfits under the command of a marauder by the name of Ragnar.

████: 'Ragnar the Wretched'. I coined that term, by the way.

INTERVIEWER: I've received reports stating that the Newtopian army received aid from the Eastern Toad Tower, yes?

████: 'Received' is rather disingenuous. The Eastern Toad Tower's participation in the war was crucial. If it weren't for them making the bulk of the army, then Newtopia would've had a harder time. I would've gone further with it but in my attempts to publish it in the greater Newtopia central region, the NPA (Newtopian Press Association) made it difficult.

INTERVIEWER: How so?

████: Well, like you said before, everyone was focused on the Eddy War so it's important to have support over it. The Sand Wars were 'taking away attention', at least that's what they claimed. When it comes to war, all involved parties want to make themselves look better, like heroes. They want to be the headlines, the cover page, so on and so forth. Amphibians have biases.

INTERVIEWER: So the NPA got in the way?

████: Well, they agreed to publish it but it was a fifth-page kind of news to them. I only got quarter of a page for the article.

INTERVIEWER: What are your personal thoughts regarding the war itself?

████: Pointless. If there's one word to describe, that's the word.

INTERVIEWER: Weren't the Badland bandits a threat to Newtopia?

████: Hardly. These 'bandits' were nothing more than a collection of indigenous tribes that lived in the harsh Badlands. For centuries, they've lived off the land with zero issues. It was only when Ragnar appeared that they became violent.

INTERVIEWER: Hence, the name 'Ragnar the Wretched'.

████: I'm quite proud of that one but yes, the vile bandit Ragnar essentially corrupted them.

INTERVIEWER: Have you met this 'Ragnar' in person?

████: What, are you kidding me? Of course not. I'm a journalist, not a soldier.

INTERVIEWER: What about involved parties? General Yunan, for example.

████: She wasn't a general back then. If I remember right, she became a general after Galivan was KIA. Fell into quicksand at the dead of night. I guess that's one way to climb the ranks.

INTERVIEWER: She did also kill Ragnar, mind you.

████: I'm aware. I've interviewed her back then too, as well as many other officers, soldiers and civilians.

INTERVIEWER: And did you meet her before or after the battle?

████: Both. And there was a certain grimness to it. Like many commanders, the then-Lieutenant Yunan carried an ego with her and she seemed excited right before the final attack on Ragnar's headquarters.

INTERVIEWER: What changed?

████: I don't know. After the battle, she seemed more pensive. Frustrated. She tried not to show it but journalists like me are very good at sniffing that out. I guess the battle didn't go exactly the way she wanted, hence the frustration.

INTERVIEWER: Did you ask her?

████: I wish I did but no, I didn't. I didn't want to bother her during a momentous occasion. Later, I checked the stats and her unit only suffered one casualty. That could be the reason but regardless, whatever happened during the final confrontation is something only she knows.

Excerpt from interview #05, the content concerning the Sand Wars. Interviewing company has attempted to a meeting with General Yunan but unfortunately, she declined. Current participant's name was censored for on request.


It was a completely average day. Today, like yesterday, and like any other day. The weather was sunny with a slight cloud, and the temperature was a pleasant 23°C. From where she lay, she could hear birds chirping outside, dogs being walked by their owners and the occasional passing traffic.

She was in her bed – her warm and soft bed – and she had never felt more comfortable.

"Anne…" A soft voice whispered in her ear. She grumbled in response, turning to her side. Yet, the voice persisted.

"Anne, wake up…" The voice called once more, ever so kind and patient. "Wake up, Anne… Wake up…"

Despite her resistance, the voice was so polite. It felt bad to ignore it. The owner of the bed, not wanting to wait any longer, finally obliged and in her pyjamas, turned around to face the voice's owner.

She opened her eyes, her hair unkempt and her vision still blurred. But she recognised that silhouette anywhere.

"Mom?"

She then blinked and everything disappeared.

"Anne? Wake up, Anne."

Anne Boonchuy, a 13-year-old from another world, roused herself from slumber after being shaken by the shoulder. She wore a slim set of leather armour, providing the very minimum protection befitting a soldier. And like any soldier, she carried with her a weapon: an heirloom sword she confiscated from a terrible thief.

"Guh-buh?" Anne slurred, hastily sitting up straight. "Grime? W-where's mom?"

Next to her sat her partner, the former-captain-now-criminal Grime. Like Anne, he too wore a set of leather armour, though with the addition of pauldrons. Despite the armour, he had a rough appearance, sporting only one working eye, a roughly kept beard and numerous other scars here and there. This was a toad who had seen his share of glorious battles.

Hearing her response, he raised a brow. "Who?"

Right then, her consciousness flooded and Anne quickly woke up mentally, now fully aware. This wasn't her bed in her childhood bedroom. This was a cart.

Well, it's more of a wagon than a cart. Wagons had a cloth cover, held up by bows, to protect its contents from the forces of nature. This included its driver – the jockey – and various goods for trade. That, by the way, happened to include the little human and the gruff toad.

Anne's heart sank, her mood instantly soured slightly. It was just a dream. She sighed, disappointed. "Sorry, it was nothing."

Anne yawned, stretching her arms and back. How long have they been in here? "W-what time is it?"

"Around midday, past noon. You seem like you slept well."

"I was having a nice dream." She replied, then looking away dispiritedly. "Just a dream…"

Grime stared at her with concern but pried no further. If Anne wanted to talk about it, then it'd be her decision. He was curious but not that curious. "Anyway, I wanted to inform you that we've finally arrived at our destination. Unscathed, at that." He added, noticing the lack of protection and maintenance from the forest's roads.

Anne rubbed her eyes and walked up to the wagon's back entrance. She peeked out and looked around the corner, basking herself in the front view. Simultaneously, Grime did the same, just below her due to the height difference.

In the distance, roughly half a mile away, was a hidden village. No, it was more accurate to call it a castle town. The settlement was surrounded by inclined straight walls, at least 10 meters tall and made of rough stones packed so tightly, it seemed smooth. At some corners stood small guard towers, similarly plastered to a brilliant white and its roofs tiled to a curved black. Outside the walls were deep trenches, now overgrown from the lack of use.

Due to the height, she couldn't see the inside clearly. However, there was one exception – a tall Japanese-styled castle, dwarfing the Frog Valley's Toad Tower by almost double its height, smacked right in the centre of the town. It was, without a doubt, the largest structure she had ever seen in Amphibia.

"Welcome to Naruto, the village of mercenaries." Grime announced.

Anne blinked.

Her awe cut short, she quickly turned to Grime with a befuddled expression. "You mean like the anime?"

"What's an anime?"

If only Marcy was here because Anne was completely unprepared to answer that.

Upon reaching the outer gates, they came across their first obstacle: toad guards inspecting incoming cargo for 'illegal' material which, by the way, one of them was. Grime, however, had a solution. Just as they saw him, he lifted a small pouch and jiggled, the sounds of copper and silver echoing into their ears. The guards shared a glance but were easily convinced by a second jiggle, much to their delight.

And with that, they've passed the walls! Surely, nothing could go wrong from here on out.

Climbing out of the wagon, Anne's initial awe plummeted. Seemed like the walls served another purpose.

Grime chuckled. "Seems like this place is still a dump."

Walking down the street, Anne saw rows of abandoned houses, most unkempt and in disrepair. Its walls were cracked and its doors and windows were either broken or completely missing. And the roads itself weren't any better, its once packed dirt and gravel now sprouting weeds and rotting vegetation. Anne tried to ignore it but she felt sad at the scene; this place definitely had seen better days.

Anne skipped over a mound of suspicious dirt. "So, what's our plan, boss?" She asked, all while paying attention to her path.

"Our plan is to meet up with Captain Bufo, Lord of the East Tower." He replied, staring at the castle in the distance. "He's the one with the ugly ponytail and goatee, and carries with him a ridiculous oversized kitchen knife, in case you don't recall."

Anne combed through her memories, tapping her chin with her finger. "I… don't think I've seen him before."

Grime stopped and looked at her. "You haven't? He was there during my hearing, on the rightmost throne."

"I didn't see your hearing. I wasn't allowed into the building."

"Oh…" He exclaimed, coughing in his fist. "Well, you know him once you see him."

As they continued along the street, they eventually approached an intersection. Here, the roads were bustling with activity as toads, frogs and even a small number of newts just going about their day. They wore rather unique clothing unlike anything she had seen in Amphibia; they were Japanese-styled robes, wrapped around and fastened by a fabric sash, both made of a cotton-like material that's both comfortable and versatile. She'd seen them from anime before but the name escaped her.

If Marcy was here, she'd tell her it's called a yukata but Anne wouldn't know that.

Walking along the side of the busy main street, they stopped by a small noodle shack tucked away in an alley. Its owner was a slitted-eye lime-green frog with a very long, yet thin, moustache. No to be rude but Anne felt like he could whip his customers just by turning. But if his noodles were as good as how he managed his military-grade facial hair, then she was not one to complain.

"HOT!" Anne yelled, having taking a sip of the broth and immediately burning her tongue. She gently blew on her spoon and tried again. "That's better… So, what's the deal with Captain Bufo? You know, outside of being a Toad Lord."

"He's not just a Toad Lord; he's the Toad Lord of the East Tower, the unchallenged leader of this village." Grime replied, pausing a bit to slurp a mouthful. "Mmm, grrrm… If we want to wage war on Newtopia, then what we need are troops. And the Eastern Toad Army happens to be the largest standing toad army in Amphibia."

"Cool, cool… So, how do we do that?"

Grime raised a finger. "I… have no idea. But I'll figure something out! I am a master strategist." He boasted.

Anne raised a brow. "I have never seen you call yourself a master strategist before."

"Well, we all have to start from somewhere." He shrugged, then gave her a smirk. "I'm at least more experienced than you are."

"I'm sorry but whose plan was it to throw oil into the ant queen's stomach?" She countered.

Grime grumbled. "That doesn't count. Besides, I deserve some credit too. I threw the barrels!"

"The barrels I pointed out."

"ThE bArReLs I pOiNtEd OuT." Grime mocked. "I'll work it out! You won't have to worry about it. I'll get us an audience with Bufo, you'll see."

Finishing their meals in silence, the duo exited the noodle shop, leaving behind a small tip.

Did tipping culture exist in Amphibia? Anne didn't know but her pure-blooded American soul urged her to 'manifest destiny' and spread the glory of the United States' optional-yet-socially-mandatory eating-outside tax. Even though, you know, they were poorer than the noodle shop owner.

Grime didn't question the tip, so it probably did exist somewhat.

Just as they pushed the curtain away, Anne and Grime suddenly found themselves surrounded by at least 10 toad guards, all of whom were pointing their spears at them. One of the toad guards stepped forward, his spear held tense and poised to strike. "You are under arrest, Exile Grime!"

Grime cursed under his breath, snapping his fingers in a phooey. "Ah, toadstool. I knew I should've bribed that gatekeeper more."

Anne has witnessed her first victim of Amphibia's tipping culture.

Anne didn't know this but it's rather funny how despite travelling with a literal criminal, she had been arrested and pursued by the law less than her blondie paste-skin friend. Like, that's something to think about.

After being arrested, shackled and chained, the two ex-soldiers were promptly escorted to the large Japanese castle in the distance. They rode a wagon for the short journey, and for the first time in a while, Anne felt a certain nostalgia towards the cold iron holding her down. The opaque bag over their heads though? That was new.

What was even the point of the bag? They both knew where they were heading. It's not that hard to figure out.

Eventually, after a ride on a toad-powered elevator, they were forced onto their knees and their bags were finally removed. Through blinking eyes, the two found themselves in a Japanese audience hall, known as a shoin. Along the walls were a row of armed guards and the room itself, though dark, was illuminated barely by standing torches beside them. At the far end of the room, being the centre of attention, was a wooden throne with swords sheathed into its back.

Sitting on that throne was the Lord of the East, the Bandit Killer, Captain Bufo of the Eastern Toad Army. That's step 1.

Bufo casually leaned on his throne, one leg on the seat and the other dangling below, his flexed arm supporting his resting head. He looked exactly as Grime described, though instead of a ponytail, it was a chonmage, an eastern rendition of the hair bun. He had greyish-green skin and yellow eyes, and, even in the safety of his Tower, wore a set of grey ō-yoroi, an early form of the famous samurai's plated armour.

He smirked, seeing Grime in chains. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the exile Grime. How long has it been since I sentenced you to the wilderness? A few months? A year, maybe?"

"It's only been one month." Grime said with a frown.

"Really? Time sure flies fast." Captain Bufo sarcastically replied. He chuckled and for a brief moment, the mood seemed to lighten. Only a brief moment.

Bufo straightened himself and slammed his fist on the throne's armrest, shaking the room. "Now tell me; what the hell are you doing in my city? I specifically remember telling you that you aren't welcomed in any toad settlement across all of Amphibia, especially my city."

At this moment of time, in such a tense and deadly situation, it's important to handle such moments with tact and cleverness. Simply barging in unannounced or saying the wrong words could bring a swift and painful end to their relatively short adventure. Thus, thinking it through and acting carefully was imperative, an art known in all realities as 'diplomacy'.

"We want an army!" "We're just visiting."

The two stared at each other.

"What?" "What?"

Without delay, Grime shuffled and turned towards Anne, pushing his head onto hers. "Anne, what are you doing?!" The grumpy toad harshly whispered.

"Telling him why we're here. There's no point in keeping a secret." Anne whispered back.

"There is a point when our lives are at stake! We can't just reveal our cards! In case you've forgotten, we're technically criminals!"

Anne looked genuinely confused. "Aren't you the only criminal?"

Grime scoffed. "Let's not argue about semantics here. You're associated with me, so you're a criminal in training."

"I don't like that title."

"Well, deal with it. I don't like mine either."

"A-hem!"

Anne and Grime turned their heads towards the now-irritated Captain Bufo, having watched their panicked whispers with a tapping claw. It's normally considered rude to ignore the host, but Bufo was a patient toad; it's honestly one of his more positive traits.

"Are you two done? What was this about wanting an army?" The toad captain asked.

"Uh…" Grime blanked, then faked a smile. "Nothing. Did we say something about an army? I didn't say anything about an army. Did you, Anne?"

Anne blinked. "… No."

Captain Bufo took a deep breath and sighed. He then leaned towards one of his guards. "Execute Grime and send his cohort to the lumber yard."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Grime yelled in a panic. "Yes, we did say about wanting an army but we weren't serious about it! It was a jab between you and I. You know, camaraderie between former captains and all."

"… Execute him slowly."

"Oh, you bog-sucking piece of toad sh—"

Anne stood up. "We want to conquer Newtopia."

Captain Bufo froze. Slowly, he turned and stared at the teenager, his eyes widened in disbelief. "What did you say? I'm sorry, did I hear that right?"

Anne nodded.

For the next few seconds, the Lord of the East didn't say a word. Not a peep from his lips. But gradually, his mouth curled upwards and eventually, a large, toothy smile emerged. Despite the restraint, his cheeks exploded, releasing a thunder-splitting, belly-bursting, knee-slapping laughter.

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA—!"

Captain Bufo's uncharacteristic howl boomed across the entire audience hall, sending waves of his powerful voice. At first, everyone watched silently but soon, every other soldier laughed with him in tears, falling on their knees and cackling like maniacs.

However, not everyone was bellowing their hearts out. Grime glanced at his partner and just as he did, he saw her eyes glowed blue. Her chains began to shake and the iron shackles creaked as she slowly moved her arms. What's worse was that he could even hear her heartbeat.

"Anne… Calm down…" Grime whispered.

If it were anyone else, she would've ignored their words. Following his advice, Anne Boonchuy ignored all the noise, closed her eyes and breathed slowly. The blue glow steadily dissipated and her arms relaxed.

With time, the laughter died down and Captain Bufo, wheezing for air, thumped his chest as he fell into a coughing fit. That seemed to have calmed him down, the captain motioning one of his guards for a glass of water, something his parched throat and sore lungs appreciated greatly.

Bufo wiped his mouth with his wrist. He gave his last chuckle but then, he lifted his fist and immediately, all that glorious laughter vanished like the wind, leaving only echoes. "Tell me; why in the world would you want to conquer Newtopia of all things?"

Grime stood forward. "We're being hunted—"

"I was asking the girl but do go on."

"—by General Yunan."

Captain Bufo blinked. Now that was a familiar name. He stood up and straight away marched right to them before grabbing the shackled Grime by his shoulders. "Did you say 'General Yunan'? Scourge of the Sand Wars? Defeater of Ragnar the Wretched? The youngest newt ever to achieve the rank of general in the Newtopia military?"

"That was… scarily accurate but yes."

Bufo let go, looking confused. "They sent the general to hunt down Grime? Seems rather excessive for a lowly criminal."

The criminal in question frowned.

Anne scratched her neck, though it was kinda awkward, what with the restraints and all. "Well, not really… It kinda sounded like she was running from work."

Bufo seemed surprised but not at what Anne and Grime thought of. He took a sharp breath, his hands clasped in front of his face. He then turned away and with a shell-shocked voice, he muttered quietly. "So it finally happened…"

The captain glanced at his prisoners and began scratching his goatee.

"I've worked with Yunan before, you know, back during the Sand Wars up in the Badlands." He began to ramble. "Not a bad soldier herself and her fighting and leadership skills allowed her to climb the ranks pretty quickly during service."

Bufo sighed. "Unfortunately, she climbed too quickly. A curse for the overambitious." He walked and sat back on his throne, and smirked. "I've always had a feeling that the position would one day put a strain on her, and I was right. Running away from work to catch a random criminal? Hah! How irresponsible. Most-wanted or not, such work is beneath someone in her position. In fact, by becoming a general, she should've been forced to put down her famous claws."

Anne and Grime glanced at one another. Now that they thought about it, it did seem odd that a general, one of the highest-ranking officers in the military, would be allowed to hunt by herself. Someone like her shouldn't even be close to a battlefield at all.

Bufo continued. "What happened then? Considering you're here, you must've shaken her off, right?"

"Grime threw her off a cliff." Anne answered.

"Only after Anne ripped her tail off." Grime added, then shrugged. "It was a team effort."

"You did that?!" Bufo exclaimed with a laugh. "I can't believe it! Defeated and humiliated? This is too much!"

Grime smirked. "In fact, we have a gift for you. It's in our bag."

Captain Bufo looked curious and interested. With a wave, the guards unshackled the two guests and handed them their luggage. From Grime's overpacked bag, he pulled out a mysterious chunk wrapped in linen and rope. It's as if he was fully prepared.

With a pull of one end, the knot came loose and the cloth fell, sliding off the object. An object that, just at a glance, was enough to make Bufo stare with disbelief. "Is that…?"

Grime placed the gift down gently. "It's exactly as what you think."

It was none other than Yunan's tail. Well, part of it, specifically the end piece.

Captain Bufo huffed with a terrifying smile. "Well… I'm impressed."

Anne sighed; with that out of the way, this would give Bufo more of a reason to listen to them. Still, it didn't seem right to her to gift the warlord a literal appendage. Grime did explain to her that newts can regrow limbs, tails especially, but that didn't make it any less traumatizing.

"I gotta say; this has been a worthwhile meeting. You two have brought me wonderful news." Captain Bufo said, waving at a guard to take the tail away. "And for that, I'm giving you the right to visit and stay in Naruto for the indefinite future, so long as you start trouble."

Safe zone secured. That's step 2. Well, not really – there was no plan – but they'll consider it as step 2.

Now, for step 3. "So… Does that mean you'll help?"

"What? Of course not! Are you insane? I may hate Newtopia but I'm not that crazy." Bufo huffed. "Still, your achievement is worthy of a celebration! Don't you all think so, men?!"

The guards all chorused their agreement.

"Then it's settled! Let's have it; a party for the great general's heaping failure!"

Everyone cheered for the toad captain and his wondrous idea, for no one could say no to a party at a newt's expense. No one except Grime and Anne, who looked at one another awkwardly.


When thinking of public amenities, most settlers would list out vital utilities such as plumbing, administration, food storage and preservation, as all of these were necessary for the survival of a colony. However, when a settlement grows bigger, not only was scaling these resources important but there were also additional facilities that must be constructed in order to increase, or at the very least maintain, the current quality of life.

One of these was temporary accommodations for visitors, traders and other likeness. After all, a small village cannot become a town without people moving in and out.

After the meeting with the Toad Lord, Anne and Grime were relocated to a nearby local inn. Their rooms were paid for by the East Tower, much to their delight, and they were even given temporary visas for their stay. And by visas, it meant a single parchment that said 'Don't Arrest Them – East Tower'.

There was also a drawn symbol of what was possibly a dragonfly on the paper. You know, to make it more official.

Sitting on the window sill, Grime stared out to the joyous crowd below. The citizens here seemed very eager for the upcoming celebration, something he found rather odd. "Looks like they're preparing for the festival tomorrow. It's shocking how quickly they got it all set up."

He turned back towards his partner, Anne, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed. "You know, this was not how I expected this whole thing to go."

"And how exactly did you expect this to go?" Anne asked with a raised brow.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I honestly didn't think we'd get this far." He replied. "The good news is that he's not killing us. Or, well, me specifically. The bad news is that we're not getting that army. So there goes our shot at dominating Newtopia."

Anne sighed, then laid herself on the bed. "Well, at least they're enjoying themselves, knowing that we humiliated Newtopia's military."

The toad smiled, jumping off the sill with cheer. "You're right! It is an achievement worthy of a festival!"

"I'm not proud of that, Grime."

"Well, you should. Not just anyone could do that, especially at a high-ranking personnel like a general."

"Yeah, General Yunan…" Anne muttered, recalling their past and only meeting. "'Scourge of the Sand Wars, Defeater of Ragnar the Wretched, and the youngest newt to ever achieve the rank of general in the Newtopian army'. Like, what's up with that? What even is the 'Sand Wars'?"

Just as she openly wondered, Grime looked at her, puzzled. "You don't know about the Sand Wars? Wait, of course, you don't. You're not from here."

"Why? Is it special?"

Grime cringed; he didn't look like he wanted to explain. But Anne's curious eyes of innocence – her default eyes – were enough to just convince him. He cleared his throat; this was going to take a while.

"The Sand Wars were a series of military conflicts that took place in the Badlands, a large desert area in the northeast. One side consisted of the Newtopian Army and the Eastern Toad Army, while the other was the Badlands Bandits led by the now-deceased Ragnar the Wretched. It lasted roughly 8 years in total, bearing significant damage to all parties involved."

"The war – or 'wars', as each conflict involved a separate, independent yet aligned party – was hard-fought primarily due to Ragnar himself. The Bandit Lord utilised clever tactics and the specifics of his environment, which contributed to historically large casualties from our side. Despite our numerical advantage, it was a pyrrhic victory at best."

"At the time, Newtopia was engaged with another conflict on the west coast known as the Eddy War, against the Saltwater Pirate Alliance. A bunch of amateurs, in my opinion, but their presence severely impacted the oceanic trade routes." He stated with a side-eye. "Fighting on 2 fronts is the last thing they'd want but they didn't have much of a choice. So, they had to prioritise."

"Ragnar the Wretched was dangerous but the damage done was a distance away from Newtopia. The pirates, however, were attacking trade ships carrying valuable cargo. The choice was obvious; most of the troops were sent to handle the pirate alliance, while only a handful were deployed in the Sand Wars."

Grime recalled the events clearly but despite the knowledgable response, he himself didn't participate in the Sand Wars. In fact, he wasn't even a true toad soldier at the time.

Sometime during his enrolment as an ordinary mid-ranking officer, he was scouted by some rich bags from Newtopia and sponsored to fight in the Newtopian Colosseum, at the behest of his then-commander to represent Toad Army. He spent several years in that arena, becoming a local celebrity somewhat, and with some luck, avoided either war.

By the time he left, both wars were already over and as a token of gratitude for his service, he became the captain of the Frog Valley Toad Tower – a dead-end job in the middle of nowhere. Not gonna lie, he missed it somewhat.

"Wait, if only a small amount of Newtopia's army was sent to the Badlands, why all the casualties?"

"Most of them were toads."

Anne breathed sharply. "Oh…"

"Oh, indeed." Grime replied with a sigh. "Ragnar was an experienced commander and Bufo, who was the acting Toad Lord at the time, was still new to the position. He outnumbered the Bandit Lord 10-to-1 but that was the only advantage he had. Ragnar's skills helped push the war to its very limits."

"In the end, despite the win, the damage crippled this city to its knees. Even today, it still hasn't recovered." He said, so nonchalantly.

Anne looked out the window where, other than the main streets, the city's lights were as sparse as the stars in the night sky. "That explains the empty houses…" She muttered. The more she dwelled, the more down she felt. "That Ragnar guy sounded like a bad dude."

"Not always."

"Huh?"

Grime shook his head. "Nothing. It doesn't matter at this point." He jumped out of bed and gave her the biggest grin he could muster. "Let's enjoy ourselves tomorrow before re-entering exiledom!"

Domino II, who had been sleeping in Anne's bag the entire time, seemed to agree, purring by his feet. Grime, distastefully, did not enjoy that. And on usual days, Anne would enjoy the sight of her replacement cat harassing her former boss.

On this day instead, she was preoccupied with a question; how can she change a lord's mind?


When walking down the street, the first thought Anne had was how different the city was from the rest of Amphibia. There was no electric lighting in this world, primarily using braziers and torches, but the roads here were lit by fireflies in open bottles. Apparently, there was a concoction in these bottles that attracted the glowing insects and that was what allowed it to concentrate in a single glass.

While the setting-appropriate lighting was somewhat neat, what really interested her was how similar the structures in Naruto were to the ancient Japanese cities on Earth. Slanted and curved roofs, thin off-white walls plastered with clay and straw, exposed wooden beams and paper doors, bamboo furniture and the occasional miniature statues carved from either stone or wood – signature aspects to the whole East Asian aesthetic. She'd never seen it in real life though – only through documentaries and anime.

Anne was not an anime fan. She watched anime before and quite enjoyed it but if anyone was an anime fan, it'd be Marcy. The Taiwanese girl was an out-of-closet connoisseur of manga and anime from the pre-2000s. She's not an otaku – thank God – but she knew her stuff; Anne has seen the merchandise.

In the opposite spectrum was Sasha, a closeted fan of old-timey rubber hose cartoons, sometimes black and white and always with grainy graphics. Sasha was obsessed with her public image and so, unfortunately, she was too embarrassed to tell anyone about it.

Anne was the only one who knew. She found out by accident, much to the blonde's horror, and Sasha made her sign a non-disclosure agreement (NDA) about it. It wasn't legally binding but Anne didn't want to risk it.

The main street, where the festivities were held, was full of stalls housing all sorts of entertainment, from delicious foods to simple carnival games. One particular stall the toad and human duo decided to stop by was a fish-catching minigame – the goal being to catch a small fish with only a thin paper net. Although simple in execution, the game demanded skill unlike any other.

SPLASH!

"GAH, BLASTED!" Grime, wearing a toad-sized kimono, cursed. In his hand was the aforementioned net, though torn. "How does anyone expect to win this?! The paper literally dissolves when touching the water. This is ludicrous!"

Anne, who was wearing her own kimono, kneeled beside him. She had a white fox mask strung to the right side of her head, and a paper tray of fried octopus dough balls, known as takoyaki. "Sounds like you're having fun. Need some help?"

Grime threw the broken net away with a growl. "No, I don't need any help. I can do it myself!" Anne flicked a takoyaki ball into her mouth with a toothpick. "Yhou shure aboud thart?"

"Yes, I'm very sure! I'm a grown toad! A children's game like this is beneath me."

Next to him, a child successfully scooped a fish into a bowl, much to their delight. The stall owner cheered at their win.

"By Barrel's hammer! Kid, you are a natural! You better slow down or else everyone else won't have any!" The stall owner said. He then glanced at Grime. "Like that scary old guy over there."

Grime's eyes widened. The stall owner was right, though he didn't have to be rude about it. He grabbed a handful of coppers from his pocket and threw it at the stall owner. "ANOTHER!"

This would end badly. Choosing to enjoy the rest of her night, Anne left to check the rest of the festival. She continued down the street, admiring the other stalls and decorations strewn about. Most of the decor was made of colourful paper, folded and glued into all manner of shapes. She especially liked the flowers; it reminded her of home.

Just as she finished her snack, she still felt somewhat peckish. It could be that her body hadn't yet adjusted to the more peaceful town setting after spending weeks in the wilderness, so her stomach was running in survival mode. When you're out in the wild, it's important to stock up on carbs, fats and proteins; after all, there's no telling when your next meal is going to be.

Conveniently, festivals were just full of food stalls waiting to be plundered. At least, that was her initial plan.

Behind the stalls, she noticed a small shop – a bakery perhaps. There were a few types of breads and sandwiches but what caught her eye were a pair of big meaty curry dumplings, each the size of her fists. Something about the way the steam permeated into the white fluffy bread made her mouth drool.

With hungry vigour, Anne briskly marched her way to the bakery, ignoring the stalls nearby. Their howls and hoots did nothing to prevent her from visiting this small and unnoticed gem in the background. Just as she arrived, she instantly inspected the cloud-like buns and smiled.

"Two of your best dumplings, please!" Anne shouted into the shop, its keeper unseen.

Hidden in the shop, a voice shouted back. "Coming right up!"

Anne blinked. She recognised that voice. "Staple? Is that you?"

Passing through the bakery's curtains with a tray of freshly baked goods, a familiar face appeared. Rounder than other toads and with an iconic high-pitched voice, the shopkeeper was none other than Staple, one of the toad soldiers she befriended back in Frog Valley. A rather timid character, Staple was the very first friend Anne made during her draft, having joined the Tower in hopes of reuniting with his sister. Though, that didn't go so well on his end.

Anne never met his sister before and Staple didn't seem to want to talk about it either.

Still, it was a surprise to see him here; the last time they were together, it was at the now-collapsed Toad Tower. Once Grime was exiled, Anne quickly followed him, so she never got a chance to say her goodbyes. Maybe she could've taken her time back then but Grime's status was immediate and she didn't want to be left behind. There's no point in dwelling on that.

Usually, Anne would recognise him from his boat-shaped helmet and pudgy cheeks. But here, the helmet was nowhere to be seen, leaving only the cheeks. Also, to her shock, he apparently had blonde curly hair; Anne had never seen him without his helmet before.

The baker Staple paused. "Anne? Oh. My. Toad. ANNE!" He shrieked happily. Staple placed down the tray of warm loaves and rushed towards her.

Anne crouched slightly and opened her arms, letting Staple wrap his own around her into a big hug. Although a trained toad soldier, Staple wasn't hard like rock and this was reflected in his hug – gentle and soft, just like him. Anne reciprocated the hug with the same gentleness, as one should.

Staple let go of the teenager, a beaming grin on his face. "It's been so long! Where have you been, Anne? I haven't seen you since the Frog Valley incident!"

"Nice to see you too, Staple." She replied with a blushed smile. She then glanced away for a bit. "As for me, I've been… busy…"

For the record, her travels with a criminal were not public knowledge as far as she knew and let's be honest, she'd rather keep it that way.

"Still, I'm kinda surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be back in Frog Valley." Anne exclaimed.

Staple sighed. "Didn't you hear? There is no Toad Tower in Frog Valley anymore. Or at least, the position's still open." Staple replied. "I heard that Newtopia's vetting the captain's position themselves now. And well, they're a bit… slow on that."

Anne raised a brow. Was he implying something about Newtopia that she wasn't aware of?

"But I'm sure that Newtopia will elect a new captain soon!" Staple concluded with a chipper. "The Eastern Tower's always in need of more toads. But you can't run an army with just blood-thirsty soldiers. And to be honest, I quite like working here for a bit."

Anne didn't know that. She assumed that Toad Army was just comprised of battle-crazy freaks, tempered by discipline. Then again, it did make sense somewhat. At least, she thought it did. She really should've been paying attention to Roman History class.

"Anyway, enough about me; you wanted two of our finest dumplings, right?" Staple asked.

The girl nodded, pulling out her money pouch. She pulled it open but, much to her dismay, found herself rather short. She didn't realise how much she had spent this night. Anne grumbled. "Eh… On second thought, two of your cheapest breads…"

"Low on cash, huh?" Staple asked.

Anne sighed. "Yeah… Sorry about that. It's been pretty tight this month."

Staple shook his head. "No, no, I get you. That's just how the economy is here in Naruto." He assured, though it sounded rather negative. "I'll go check if we still have some of this morning's batch. Be right back!" He said before parting, leaving the poor – literally and figuratively – teenager on her own.

To think that she'd meet Staple here. To be honest, she didn't expect to meet any of the toads she knew back in Frog Valley. There was Staple, Wright, those three tax collectors, and a few others at the top of her head. It made sense that they'd still be on duty in some way, just that being stationed outside the valley startled her.

Staple also mentioned that the Frog Valley's Toad Tower was currently inactive because Newtopia was choosing a new captain for it. That bothered her; Newtopia chose who led the Towers? She always assumed it was the other toad captains that did that. Or maybe it's because of Grime's unique circumstance that caused this? She'd need to ask the man in question later.

"You're not from around here, aren't you?"

Anne shuddered. Behind her, a voice had called out, asking her a rather unassuming question. Quickly, she turned to face its owner and surprisingly, it was just a random elderly man sitting by a bench, a bottle of local alcohol in his grip.

This old toad was wrinkly and skinny from age. He had thick spiky hair which was tied into a long ponytail, followed by two shoulder-length bangs framing his face. Just like everyone else this fine evening, he also wore a kimono, though his was shorter and green in colour, with a black belt and matching pants to boot. He was also wearing a red haori – a type of Japanese jacket often paired with kimonos.

Curiously, there were red vertical lines below his eyes, down across his face. Anne wasn't sure if that was face paint or just how he looked.

Anne greeted with a slight bow; you know, because it's polite. "Yep, from another world. Me and my partner came to visit your captain for a proposal but… Let's just say he wasn't a fan."

The old toad laughed and took a swig from his bottle. "He's a bit hard-headed but he means well." He exclaimed. "When you're a captain, especially one out of necessity, it can be difficult to take big risks. This becomes especially so since the war and all."

Anne frowned. It's that war again – the same one that Grime explained earlier. Seemed like this old toad had seen some action. "The Sand Wars was that terrible, huh?"

"'Terrible' wouldn't even cut it." The toad replied. "It's hard to put into words. This whole city used to be livelier, a centre of culture and commerce. We'd have theatre shows, parades, bustling trade and a row of ships by the port. Kids used to buy treats from nearby candy shops or play by the offside."

"But then, Ragnar happened." Anne butted in.

The toad raised a brow. "Oh, so you're aware?"

Anne shrugged. "Only the gist of it. I only heard of the guy today."

"Makes sense." He responded, taking another drink and wiping away the residue from his lips. "At the end of the day, it only ever concerns the Eastern Tower. The rest of Amphibia wouldn't give jack."

As she watched the elder reminisce, Anne had a thought. She slid herself onto the bench, taking a seat next to him. The toad curiously stared at her but said nothing, letting Anne clear her throat. "Say, seeing that I'm just a tadpole here, what can you tell me about this Ragnar guy? You know, other than the fact that he's terrible."

"Curious about him, eh?" He asked but didn't wait for an answer. "It's not my place to say but…"

He showed Anne his bottle, nudging it at her. Anne raised her hands. "Eh, no thanks. I'm under-aged."

The toad frowned but didn't complain. "Ragnar was a brilliant leader – probably one of the best in toad history. Heck, even after his betrayal, he was able to fight against the Toad Army to a standstill with nothing but a bunch of armed tribesmen. Not a lot of folks could claim that. Newtopia likes to say that they did all the work in taking him down but we know better."

He hummed. "I don't know the details but I do know one thing; there's a clear line from when he went from a respected toad to a criminal. A bunch of cloaked weirdos appeared one day and had a private meeting with him. That's when things got messed up."

"Cloaked weirdos?"

"Newts, the lot of them – called themselves the 'Cult of the Olms'. I don't even know what an 'olm' is." He narrated with a lazy wave. "They went in, met Ragnar and came back out, giving him a priceless artefact as a gift. That's when the traitor started acting odd. And this ain't a conspiracy! I know they did something!"

As she listened, Anne raised a brow. "Wait, they met Ragnar? Why would they meet Ragnar?" She asked.

"Because he was the Toad Lord of the East at the time, duh."

Anne's eyes widened.

"WHA—"

"It's your lucky day, Anne!" A voice shouted from the bakery. It was the friendly Staple, having returned from his kitchen-centric adventure and with him, a mighty boon: a full tray of steaming meaty dumplings made from prime bullworm meat, similar to the expensive ones in display. "I couldn't believe but apparently, I missed a batch from this morning so now, I have extra! They've been in the steamer a bit too long though, so I'll have to sell them at half the price and since you're the reason I found them, I think I can reduce it to a whopping 70%!"

Staple then looked at the scene in front of him: Anne recoiled to the edge of the bench in shock, completely frozen, and an old toad nonchalantly taking a swig. As he finished, he looked through the opening and sighed disappointedly. He then stood up and walked past Staple and towards the shop.

"Uh, boss? What happened while I was gone?" Staple asked, still staring at Anne as her gaze followed the old toad.

The toad chuckled. "Nothing to concern yourself. Also, who told you you could sell those buns at half-off? Just mix them with the new batch. These drunk idiots won't know the difference." He then glanced at the shell-shocked Anne. "As for her… give a few for free. Consider it thanks for listening to an old toad's ramble." He said, chuckling to himself.

Anne blinked, the gears in her mind turning. She finally got a plan.


Anne was an athlete. Back at school, she'd participate in various sports and activities, earning her the title 'Black Dynamite'. She was pretty sure it was a racist insult just to mock her for having a manly physique but it sounded so cool that she wore it with pride. After all, no girl or boy could run as fast as she could on the track, leaving her opponents in the dust as if they exploded by dynamite.

It sounded cooler in her head. But that wasn't the point. For the first time since her fight against Yunan, she had never run as fast as she was right now.

Anne scanned the stalls, searching for her scarred partner and to her surprise, he was still as the goldfish game, holding an intact paper net. She stomped and braked, sliding along the road before coming to a full stop. Through her ragged breath, she weakly called. "Grime, I—"

"Shush!" The toad in question hissed. "I'm concentrating."

For a long and quiet minute, he stared unblinkingly at the pool of fish. Grime then closed his eyes, breathed in and breathed out. During the whole time, he said nothing and did nothing but breathe in a controlled and precise manner. His heart rate dropped and his hands trembled but ultimately, both gradually steadied. He focused only on breathing, not just his but also the fish and the other patron, even Anne behind him. Everything became clear like the water in front of him.

For a moment and only that moment, Grime could manifest the truth of the world.

"Become water…" He whispered and as he opened his eyes, he lunged his net at the pool. Specifically, at one of the fish. Its gills had bubbled irregularly and part of its fin was missing. This fish was slower than the rest, making it the ultimate easy mark.

Grime was quick to capitalize on this chance. He calculated the perfect angle of entry, twitched his muscle to just the right position and put all his strength into it. His hand moved so fast, it broke the speed of sound.

At such skill, haste and power, he was 99.999% guaranteed to win.

"HIYAH!"

He lost.

The stall owner smiled and laughed. "Sorry about that, pal! Better luck next time."

… Carrying a straight face, Grime looked at the stall owner. He then looked at his paper net, broken and useless. He then looked at Anne, she herself staring back, and finally, he looked straight into the empty space in between.

Grime was unhappy. His face didn't show it but he was unhappy.

"I'm gonna kill myself."

"Wait, what?"

With a flick, the net flipped orientation and now, Grime was holding it backwards, pointing at himself. Before he could do what only fallen warriors and disgraced nobles in the sunrise kingdom would do, Anne quickly got in the way and grabbed his beefy hand, stopping it in its tracks. From this point on, it was a contest of strength.

"Grime, NO!"

"I'm already an exile! I've got nothing else to lose!"

"STOP IT, GRIME!"

"JUST LET ME DIE, ANNE!"

"NO!"

"JUST LET ME DIE!"

Thankfully, this exchange didn't last long. In the end, Anne proved herself the victor, having overpowered her partner with a mighty unbreakable arm lock. Battered but not bruised, the duo walked back to the inn, their heads hung in shame.

Sitting on the bed, Grime twiddled his thumbs, followed by an awkward cough. "I, uh, thank you for helping me during such a dire period. I apologize for the difficulties I've caused."

Anne sighed; she was tired. "It's fine. Just… please don't throw your life away over a silly game."

"Well, in hindsight, it does sound rather silly."

He chuckled to lighten the mood, though the girl didn't seem to appreciate it as much, forcing him to stop.

Still, Anne didn't wait to let the awkwardness linger and went straight to the point. "Grime, I need to meet Captain Bufo tonight. How can I do that?"

"Officially or unlawfully?"

Anne didn't answer.

Grime scratched his chin, thinking. "Well, if that's the case, then the only way to meet him is to sneak through the gates, climb the Tower and reach whichever floor and room he happens to be in." He quickly answered. "But that would involve circumventing numerous patrols, avoiding yourself from being seen in the middle of the night and scaling several stories full of highly dangerous toad soldiers who will kill you on sight."

"So you're saying it's possible?"

"Sure, if you're insane." He said with a shrug. "Or a Newtopian Infiltrator. Those slimy bastards can get into anything. But if you have a distraction, then it becomes much easier."

"Can I count on you for that?" She asked. Grime didn't say a word, responding with only a devilish toothy smile. Anne smirked. "Then I better suit up."

Grime hopped off the bed, his chest puffed with excitement. "Cool. I'll get us taiyakis to celebrate once you return."

At the corner of the room, Domino II mewed.


The Toad Tower of the East. The Eastern Tower. The Castle of the Rising Sun. Out of all the Towers, this was the only one built directly in a city.

Take for example, Frog Valley's Tower; it existed at the edge of a cursed forest, putting it far from any civilization. Another example was the Western Tower, having been built on an island by the coast of the town of Chauny; travel there was difficult but the castle was still visible from the coast.

Depending on the location, there were advantages and disadvantages. The one in Frog Valley was far enough that no one would dare attack, making it impervious to assaults and peasant uprisings. But at the same time, deploying troops and transporting resources was a hassle, making communication and support between the Tower and its outposts a challenge. The one near Chauny was close enough to precipitate easy trade between them, but being built on an island limited its range inland.

With that in mind, one would argue that having the military base be in the city itself would be the best idea, right? Well, there were issues with that as well. For one thing, a settlement cannot have two simultaneous control centres; hence why Naruto was ruled entirely by the Toad Tower of the East. This also meant that the Tower had to handle everything that the normal town official would've, instead of just military operations.

And towns were built for townies.

Healthcare, commerce, business, banking, legislation, law enforcement, entertainment, housing, public amenities, greenery, roads, maintenance, emergency services, and countless other things. No matter how powerful a military was, it would always be carried on the backs of non-combatants. Thus, their opinion and perspective become vital.

A town or city is a place for the average Joe's to live, grow and form families. The military was not fit for such a soft place. So in order to have an army survive in such a place, the army must change.

Just outside the main castle, two toads were standing guard in front of the Tower's gates. They were open indefinitely to allow people, whether toads or otherwise, to walk in and out for their businesses. Most toads have their own homes outside of the Tower too and would commute to work like anyone else.

Nonetheless, it was still the entrance of a military institution, so a couple of guards wielding wooden war clubs with metal studs, the kanabō, were expected, even if they didn't do anything most of the time.

In the silence of the festive night, one guard called to his buddy. "Hey."

"Yeah?" His partner replied, staring into the stars.

"Have you ever wondered why we're here?" The first guard asked.

The second guard sighed. "It's one of life's great mysteries, isn't it? Why are we here? Are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is there really a god, like a guardian or something, that made everything? You know, with a grand plan for all of us and we're just clay in their paws." The guard mused before looking away from the sky, almost disturbed. "I don't know, man, but it keeps me up at night."

The first guard turned to his friend, dumbfounded. "What? I mean, why are we out here on guard duty? Everyone's having fun at the festival and we're stuck here!"

His buddy blinked. "Oh. Uh… Y-yeah…"

"What was all that stuff about a god or guardian?"

"Nothing."

"Come on…"

"It's nothing!"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm very sure! Look, let's not talk about it, alright?!"

The first guard rolled his eyes. "Fine…"

That moment would forever be the second most interesting conversation topic they'll have. The first would occur right after.

Walking towards the gate, a shadowy figure appeared slowly. He was large and husky, wearing thick iron armour that clacked with each step. But even in that darkness, a single white eye glowed in solitude like the light of an angler fish in the deep blue sea…

"Halt! Identify yourself." One of the guards shouted, drawing a studded war club.

Luring its prey towards it…

The figure approached them, revealing himself to be Grime in his traditional captain's armour, albeit blueish in colour. Although no longer a soldier, he had kept it with him in his bag, waiting to be worn once more.

Grime smiled devilishly and waved. "Hello, there."

The other guard perked up as he saw the toad. "I recognize that scar… Exile Grime, while the captain has released you on account of his generosity, that only extends to the city of Naruto barring Toad Tower. Turn back."

Grime hummed, faking a thought. "And what if I say 'no'?"

They did not like that answer.

The two guards, finally being able to do something, eagerly walked up to Grime, their wooden clubs drawn. Grime seemed unfazed.

"Oh wow, that looks like it'll hurt." He said, almost innocently. "You're holding it wrong though."

A guard raised his brow. "What?"

In a swift move, Grime grabbed the club, yanked it from its owner and, while still in the wrong direction, he swung the club's handle at the toad, cracking it in the poor sod's skull. With another swing, he threw the club at the other soldier who was forced to guard, only to leave himself wide open as Grime clenched his fist and slagged him in the face, knocking him off his feet.

It took him two moves to take down two guards. He felt proud somewhat – he still got it – but couldn't help but sigh in disappointment over how easy it was.

Since the first guard was knocked out, he calmly strolled towards the second guard, cringing on the ground and covering his delicate face. Grime chose not to wait and simply grabbed him by his collar, lifting him up.

"Now, be a good distraction for me and scream as loudly as you can."

The toad felt his blood turn cold. "W-w-wait—!"

PHOOOSHH—BASH! That was the sound of a toad crashing through the main door at half the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"

Grime cracked his neck. "You better not take too long, Anne…"

With the guards distracted at the attempted invasion, Anne Boonchuy, now in complete black ninja garb, leapt from the rooftops. She jumped over the Tower's defensive walls and when the coast was clear, snuck inside. The last time she was here, they used an elevator to go to the Toad Lord. The elevator was toad-powered; which meant there needed to be a toad operator inside to crank the elevator.

Obviously, that was currently not an option.

Anne stared at the countless stairs, took a deep breath and slapped her legs. "Alright, thighs! Mama needs you! LET'S DO THIS!"

Within the top floors, Bufo watched as his men were quite literally thrown around like ragdolls. As much as he hated it, he couldn't deny that Grime was an exceptional fighter and possibly a good soldier too. Just goes to show that the one-eyed toad's rise through the ranks wasn't a fluke or a form of nepotism.

"There are like 30 toads down there and you're telling me not a single one is able to just shoot him?" Bufo, wearing a kimono, spat at one of his officers.

The said officer shivered in fear. "S-sorry, sir! He's been using our men as shields, so we can't get a clear shot at him!"

"Then just charge at him!"

"H-he's also swinging them around and hitting us. We're not sure how to handle this!"

Bufo sighed, pinching between his eyes with a grumble. "I swear to Barrel, I have to do everything myself." The Toad Lord turned away and walked to his equipment, his armour and weapons displayed on the stands nearby. "Tell the men to hold him off for now. I'll deal with him once I'm ready."

The soldiers quietly replied with a salute and promptly left. Now by himself, Bufo began suiting up. He switched his kimono with something more durable and of better mobility, and slowly assembled the pieces of his armour. For maximum protection, body armour came in several layers but for the sake of speed, he went with a lighter option; it was more casual than war armour with fewer pieces to wear but the protection was minimal.

As he finished with his attire, Bufo grabbed his blade – one of many – and began inspecting it. It was a dominating single-edged sword that, with the sheath on, was longer than he was tall. In simplest terms, the sword was big, maybe even too big. Too big, too thick, too heavy and too rough; it was more like a hunk of iron, tempered into hardened steel.

It was no work of art but it did its job. With something like this, he'd be able to cut even the heavily-armoured Grime in half with a single swing. In fact, he intended to; that was until he felt a presence outside the room.

SCHHHHWING!

"Who goes there?! Show yourself!" Bufo ordered, his unsheathed blade pointing to the hallway outside.

Slowly, a teenager appeared and she was not looking well.

Her hands gripping her knees, Anne panted. "Hah… Hah… G-give me… give me a moment…" She struggled to say, her legs wobbling and her outfit soaking wet. Having covered her entire body, the ninja suit was a lot warmer than she initially thought.

Why did she even go the effort to get a ninja suit if nobody was going to see it? And why were they selling ninja suits at a gift shop?

Despite her rather pathetic display, Bufo did not relax. "Grime's partner-in-crime – I should've known. Let me guess; after being rejected, you and the exile decided to stage a 2-man coup. While Grime acts as a diversion, you would infiltrate my living quarters and kill me in my sleep."

"W-what? No. That's not even close." Anne replied incredulously. She took a few short breaths, quickly but gradually regaining her strength. "I'm here to convince you to change your mind."

Bufo rushed at her.

"W-wait, I don't want to fight!"

SCHWING!

Anne promptly leaned back as the blade arced at her, slicing just below her chin. She had almost lost her head. Not giving her a moment's rest, Bufo swung his sword again, forcing Anne to once more retreat into the room. But Bufo did not relent and chased after her, attacking her unhesitantly and rabidly.

Anne didn't expect a fight. Not wanting to encumber herself, she left behind her own ancestral blue sword back at the inn, guarded by Domino II. However, even if she had brought it with her, it would still be a difficult fight. She was no swordmaster, not on the same level as Captain Bufo. At best, it'll give her a fighting chance but at worst, it'll only offend him.

Unlike the girl, Captain Bufo was a beast with a sword. Although his weapon was improbably large, he wielded it with such ease, fitting for a Toad Lord with years of combat experience and a fine-tuned exercise regiment. The sharpened metal glided through with finesse and Anne, weaponless, had no option but to dodge.

As she ran across the room, ducking and weaving her body from his deadly strikes, she saw the captain's equipment storage and in it, a few extra swords. Dropped on all fours after another dodge, she skittered to it and grabbed one of the blades. Keeping the sheath on, she turned and blocked Bufo's mighty cleave, cracking the protective casing.

"Please, stop! I don't want to fight!" Anne begged, her arms trembling under the pressure.

"Well, you should've thought of that before siccing Grime on us." Bufo barked. He then pushed his sword harder, forcing Anne onto her knees.

She tried pushing back but this was nothing like the training sessions; this was a real fight with an opponent equal to Grime's strength. But unlike her partner, Bufo did not hold back, putting pressure on her with the intent to kill. The small number of wins she had on Grime during their spars meant nothing compared to this.

If this continued, she was going to die.

But she refused.

In that moment, her eyes began to glow blue. Suddenly, she felt a rush of power coursing through her very being. With little effort, she turned the tide and snapped her borrowed blade back at Bufo, pushing him away with a large swing. Unintentionally, her sword's scabbard came off, having lodged itself in Bufo's blade, thus exposing her own.

The sword behind her, Anne put both hands on the handle. The same power that flowed through her began flowing rapidly into her weapon.

"I said—" She swung. "STOP!"

SCHWOOOM!

Her sword flared with a shining cerulean light, brighter than the brightest of stars. Her swing, aimless and with no ill intent, caused the light to burn further and in a passionate flash, the blazing spark blasted off from the steel, flying through the air as a destructive blue wave. Bufo, just having removed the stuck sheath, stood by and watched as the glowing arc whizzed towards him, his eyes widened in shock.

As it flew closer and closer, it was only through pure instinct that his body reacted and swiftly ducked, the supersonic arc flying past him. The wave hit the walls and pillars, cutting through them unhindered. It went through one wall, then two and three, four and eventually, even the outer walls that gave the Tower its structure.

Nothing could stop it.

Before long, the arc spread out of the Tower, showering the night sky with a brilliant and dazzling luminescence. On the ground floor, Grime was beating a toad with another toad but then paused, witnessing the unnatural weather phenomenon above him. The other toad soldiers also stopped, their mouths agape and their eyes glittering. Further ahead, the townsfolk looked up with awe, cheering as if it was just part of the festivities.

"Are those fireworks?" "I've never seen fireworks like that before." "Was that a rainbow?" "Rainbows aren't blue, Bob."

Back at the top, Anne was dumbstruck; there was now a giant hole that stretched across the entire floor, slanted slightly, as if someone had just cleaved through the entire Tower. And by someone, she meant herself.

"Whoa…" Anne muttered out loud. She looked at her sword, its blade fuming with thin white smoke. Just as she relaxed, the now-white blade hit the ground and immediately shattered into dust. "Uh, sorry… I didn't mean to do that…"

Lying on the ground, Bufo stared at the teenager, utterly taken aback. His mind ran on overdrive, trying its best to make sense out of it. Yet alas, he couldn't find any reason. "How did you do that?"

Anne glanced at her now-bladeless sword. "I… don't know…"

To be precise, she knew how she could've done that but she didn't know she could've done that or how to do it at all. It seemed like there was more to her gift than she thought.

Anne threw away the handle; it was worthless now and walked up to Bufo, before extending a hand. "Will you please listen to me, at least for an hour?"

No.

At least, that's what he wanted to say but right on queue, the upper part of Anne's magical sword strike started to creak and straight away, whatever supports were left splintered and Bufo's roof disastrously slid off, crashing to the ground below. Without his consent, he now had a full view of the starry night.

"… Fine." He answered in defeat. "Just don't break any more of my Tower. And tell your partner to stop fighting."

She had a feeling he already did but just in case… "GRIME!" Anne shouted from a balcony.

Down below, Grime waved with his free hand; the other was occupied by a struggling soldier. He had a few cuts and stab wounds, and even several arrows stuck to his armour. "ANNE!" He shouted back. "Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine! Bufo's agreed to talk, so you can stop now!"

"Okay!" He replied with a thumbs up. He examined his battlefield, littered with countless tired and injured toads groaning in pain. "Tell Bufo his soldiers suck!"

"I'm not telling him that!"

"TELL HIM!"

Next to Anne, Bufo peered from the edge.

Grime smirked. "Never mind, he's here. BUFO, YOUR SOLDIERS SUCK!"

"Please… Let go of me…" The struggling soldier whimpered.

Grime obliged but not before walloping him out cold. Up above, Bufo grumbled.


In Japan, there is a practice called a 'tea ceremony', also known as chanoyu or sado. It is a cultural activity involving the preparation and presentation of Japanese green tea. As the name implied, it was a particular ritual, using specialized tools and specific procedures. It was an art form at its core, celebrating the sordid beauty of everyday life – how something so simple could be beautiful.

While the practice still remains today, it has waned over the years, now performed by only a small number of trained hosts and hostesses, usually on special occasions and not by the average person. However, similar but more popular practices do exist for other types of beverages. East Asians – the Japanese included – were prolific drinkers of alcohol. In Japan, rice wine or saké was their local speciality and thus, a ceremony existed for that too.

At the roofless top floor of the Eastern Tower, Captain and Toad Lord Bufo set up a small tea table on the tatami mat. He and his guest, Anne Boonchuy, sat on the straw floor nearby, their legs crossed and their backs slightly hunched. On the table were two ceramic cups – small ones with no handles – and a white ceramic bottle. This was the saké.

For a while, they sat across one another silently, not a word or a peep. Several times, Bufo glanced at the cups and bottle, and then at Anne. She had a feeling she was supposed to do something but had no idea what it was. After several glances and a few awkward coughs, the captain huffed.

"You know, around here, the juniors would pour for their seniors when having a drink. And considering our positions…"

Anne yelped. "O-oh, right!"

She took the cork off the bottle and poured Bufo a drink. Bufo graciously accepted, took a whiff and finally, a long and drawn-out sip.

SLUUUUUURP…

"Ahh…" He sighed. "Your pouring technique stinks."

Anne raised a brow. "It's… kinda my first time?"

"Excuses. No wonder this generation is a failure." He replied miserably. "Now, first off, tell me; what in Barrel's Hammer was all that blue glowing stuff? And be truthful; consider the fact that you just chopped the top floors of one of the most important military assets in Amphibia."

"Oh, I have superpowers." Anne answered in a beat. "The slicing was new though."

He wasn't satisfied with the answer but he'd take it. "Second; how are you going to convince me to change my mind?"

Anne took a deep breath; this was it. This was what she came here for. She just hoped everything would go as planned.

"Aren't you angry? About the Sand Wars." Anne asked. "Aren't you angry about that?"

Bufo raised a brow. This wasn't how he expected the conversation to start. "About one of the worst military campaigns in history that I personally participated in; one that crippled the economy here? Of course, I'm angry. What's your point?"

"Don't you want justice?"

He rolled his eyes. Seemed like she wanted to provoke him into action. "I already got justice. Ragnar the Wretched is dead, claimed to have been killed by General Yunan."

Justice, he received but it wasn't satisfying. Ragnar was his problem and Newtopia stole that from him. It should've been him to kill the vicious warlord, not a war hound from the big city bolstering more medals than he could count.

"I meant justice for Ragnar."

Bufo felt a vein pop. "Tread your next words carefully…"

Anne wanted to provoke him, right? Well, she got it but in the wrong direction.

Yet, she continued, unwavered. "Ragnar was once your captain, right? You must've looked up to him. It's rather tragic how he fell from grace."

"He was insane. He believed that he had the ability to see the future, up to the end of the world. It was right to cut him down."

"But he wasn't always like that. He was once a respected leader. Your leader." Anne stressed. "Something must've happened to him for him to change. Something terrible."

Anne poured another drink and this time, Bufo was hesitant to accept. "I heard from an old guy who owns a bakery that a bunch of newts visited him once, right before he went insane. The 'Cult of the Olms', if I recall."

"Jiraiya…" Bufo muttered. He should have known it was him. Even retired, he was a pain. "Okay, so let's assume that this 'cult' was involved. So what? How does this have anything to do with your frivolous conquest?"

"Think about it. A cult made of newts visiting your old captain, then him suddenly spiralling out of control? Don't you think it's a bit suspicious?" Little by little, the teenager probed. "They had enough power and privilege to meet a Toad Lord in private. They had the resources to give a priceless artefact as a gift. What does that say, hmm?"

When Bufo slid his cup back onto the table, Anne took her time to refill it. Slowly, the alcohol trickled, yet the conversation continued.

"I've got a hunch; the artefact they gave him? That's what caused him to go mad. And this 'cult'? It's just a fake, made to take the blame instead of Newtopia." She exclaimed, filling the cup to its brim. "They sent a bunch of disguised agents here to corrupt the former Toad Lord, creating a war that forever weakened this Tower's military. Thus, ensuring Newtopian superiority. And the worst part? They're the heroes in this story."

That… was ridiculous. Conspiracy theory-levels of ridiculous. Like, why would Newtopia go so far as to cut down one of the largest non-Newtopian armies on the continent? Not only that but the war took thousands of lives, a majority of which were brutish and challenging-to-work-with toads. In addition, the war also violently removed the independent Badlands tribes from any position of power, reducing them to but a husk of their former selves. All of this while Newtopia claimed all the gold and glory at only a paltry loss.

Bufo grabbed the cup, trying to drink, but his hands were shaking.

SMASH! "THOSE BACKSTABBING WART-SUCKING BASTARDS!" Bufo yelled, crushing the cup in his palm and spilling the wine all over.

It sounded stupid and insane but not impossible. In fact, very much possible. It had just the right amount of deception and sabotage to be real. He would never have seen it coming either; toads were proud and brave. They might lie and cheat but they weren't experts in these kinds of tricky tactics. And it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with these kinds of tactics; he, like many toads, just preferred the direct method of problem-solving.

And that's why he didn't see it. Because no toad would have the domino effect as their strategy.

Bufo breathed in and out. He needed to calm down before proceeding. Otherwise, he might end up making an error in judgement. "Even if your assumption is true, I cannot risk my city over it. It's too much."

"Then you'll die."

Bufo looked at her, surprised. The way she claimed to like it was a fact – like it was inevitable. Anne shook her head, as if she knew what he was thinking. "If we let Newtopia do whatever it wants, then this will keep happening. You'll die. Your city will die. Your soldiers, your people, that old man who gave me dumplings – all of them will die."

Anne Boonchuy, former lieutenant of Toad Tower, former athlete of a Los Angeles middle school, former… friend of a narcissist, stood up. Her full stature towered over Bufo and under the moonlight, her glowing blue eyes felt unsettling. Alien, even.

"Unless… Unless someone cares." She calmly, yet firmly exclaimed. "Someone powerful, someone charismatic and most importantly, someone that cares – like you. Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is ever going to change for the better. It's not."

Bufo was many things: a captain, a lord, a fighter, a soldier and finally, a leader. It's a heavy weight to carry when so many people count on you for their future. Grime knew what that was like, even though he struggled with the concept. He led the toads of Frog Valley despite having no love for that Tower.

But this city was Bufo's home. It wasn't just a Tower to him. He grew up here, enrolled into the army here, climbed the ranks here and became a captain here, albeit that last part was a bit controversial. All in all, he was the only person that could care enough to do something.

But caring was just the first step. The next was actually doing something about it.

Bufo grumbled and turned, his arms crossed in annoyance. "You are aware of what you're saying, right? Starting a war and all? There will be bloodshed."

Anne clenched her fist and stayed silent, yet stood to her words.

The Toad Lord nodded and raised a hand. Anne, with a faint smile, reciprocated and accepted the gesture.


You know what's weird?

One day, you wake up in the morning as usual and do your normal daily activities such as buying groceries and fixing up an old wagon. An average day with not much excitement but surprisingly, on that particular night, the leader of your village decided to set up a festival celebrating… something? Not exactly sure what it was but it was probably related to bloodsport.

The night went well and everyone was enjoying themselves. Heck, at the stroke of midnight when the moon was at its peak, there was even a firework show. Just one firework though but it was massive and spread across the sky like a tsunami. What a way to end the night!

The next day, you woke up in the morning as usual and went to do your groceries until suddenly, you noticed something off about the scenery. You're not sure what but it pretty much bugged you for hours. But then, you noticed!

The Eastern Tower was shorter, on account of a missing rooftop.

"First agenda of the day:" Captain Bufo, Toad Lord of the East, started. "To all officers currently in this hall, we will be performing a week-long review of our current training regimen. After last night's… debacle, I've… harshly learned that our current staff are severely inadequate." He glanced at the unformed soldiers around him. "I expect there to be significant changes in how this is handled."

The toads gulped nervously.

Bufo cleared his throat. "Now, for the second agenda: after some careful consideration, I've decided to, eh… retract my previous judgement." He said, waving a hand nonchalantly. "You now have the support of the Eastern Toad Army, so long as you make due with our agreement."

In front of him at the centre of the hall, Anne 'Bird's Nest' Boonchuy and Grime 'of the Magnificent Beard', kneeled. They both wore their armours, repainted ever since their discharge, to a dark yet vibrant blue. It may seem odd to paint over armour but contrary to popular belief, armour paints were actually common back during the Middle Ages. Not the most popular though; it just wasn't as practical as wearing a dyed fabric or gilding.

"Wait, seriously? You're going to help us?" Grime, with a look of surprise, stood up and cheered. "HAHA, MAGNIFICENT! WE DID IT!"

Bufo snarled. "Not you. My support only extends to Ex-Lieutenant Anne Boonchuy."

"Well… I'll take it regardless!" Grime replied and swung his arm with an 'attaboy' attitude. He only got partial news from Anne when she returned; it's nice to hear it directly from the horse's mouth.

Next to him, Anne smiled and then nodded at Bufo. "We won't let you down."

The Toad Lord huffed. "You better. I'll flay your skin and feed them to you if you do."

"Wow okay, that's a bit dark but you've got nothing to worry about!"

Bufo seemed pleased with the response but he quickly wiped away his smirk. "However, as per Toad Army customs, this deal comes with a caveat, which you probably already know about."

She blinked. "Eh, what?"

Grime leaned towards her. "Anne, we can't start a fight against Newtopia with just the Eastern Toad Army. We'd be – with full offence, Bufo – slapped in the butt. What we need is the support of the other Towers."

Bufo nodded. "And I've taken the liberty to prepare you a vessel for your next target." He pointed at the harbour, revealing a small brig docked nearby. Sailor toads were loading various supplies onto it and performed some last-minute tune up. He then motioned his hand to the opposite side, where laid a straw hamper full of goodies and topped with a bow. "As well as a gift basket. You know, so she doesn't blow you up into smithereens and use your corpses for gibbeting."

What did he just say?

Anne felt her blood drained from her. "I'm starting to have second thoughts."

"Don't worry about it! Beatrix isn't so bad." Grime assured, smacking Anne on the back. "She's worse but only if she hates you – which she doesn't! She doesn't even know you."

"Thanks for the confidence, Grime." Anne sighed. "Thanks, Bufo. You're a good leader, you know that?"

"I don't need your acknowledgement!" He snapped, only to bashfully look away. "B-but you're welcome."

Anne smiled, wordlessly accepting the reply. Although they had a rocky start – Bufo was just straight-up about to send her to a forced labour camp – the one non-consensual late-night meeting changed their relationship forever. There was now trust between them and altered perceptions of one another. They weren't friends but they were at least friendly.

Everything was coming up Boonchuy. But all of a sudden, Grime raised his hand.

"Hey, Bufo? I've got something to say." He called.

Captain Bufo turned to him.

"Bitch."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

The Toad Lord drew his sword.

"AND WE'RE LEAVING!" Anne said in a panic, insistently pushing Grime away and towards the exit. "Let's go, Grime! Thanks for the ship and we will be seeing you later!"

With the support of a Toad Lord, Anne and Grime were now closer to their goal of conquering Newtopia. Quickly entering the elevator, the elevator operator spun the crank and the duo gradually descended from the Eastern Tower one last time. Grime tapped his foot impatiently, wanting to get to the ship as soon as possible, while Anne hummed to herself in a positive mood.

As they waited, Grime's mind began to wander and something abnormal stood out to him. Last night, Anne told him mostly about what happened, including her new powers. She skimmed through the details before collapsing on the bed but she did bring up her conversation topic. That's where he noticed the abnormality.

"I have got to ask; how did you know that the 'Cult of the Olms' was from Newtopia?" Grime perused.

Anne glanced at him, a little defeated. "I… didn't."

Grime gasped.

Anne looked away. "All I knew was that the robed people were newts. There was nothing that implied they were from Newtopia." She admitted, looking uncomfortable. "But I needed a way to convince Bufo. He hates Newtopia and those guys were newts and newts are from Newtopia. So, I put all three to three together and might have… pinned the blame on them…"

Grime couldn't believe it. "Anne… That's racist…"

Anne's worldview crumbled immediately.

"HAHA, WONDERFUL! Superb, Anne! I wish I thought of that myself!" The one-eyed toad praised, showcasing his trademarked trauma-inducing smile and equally traumatic laugh.

"What?! Nononono—noooo!" Anne screamed in horror. "I-I-I didn't mean to—!"

"You're becoming a true toad, my friend! Blaming an entire species for the crimes of a barely related few? Classic toad culture." He exclaimed positively – not what she wanted. He even wiped a happy tear from his face. "I feel so proud. I-I think I'm going to cry…"

"I WAS JUST THINKING 'What would Sasha do?' AND THIS WAS THE FIRST THING THAT CAME IN MIND!" Anne explained, shifting the blame, exactly like what Sasha would do.

Grime, though, was no fool and patted her on the back like a father would to his child. "Now, now, Anne; no need to give credit to your former compatriot. You should be proud of yourself." He said, beaming with respect. In perfect timing, the elevator finally reached the bottom, the toad controlling the elevator looking somewhat worn. "Let's go get those taiyakis!"

On that day, Anne Boonchuy lamented; she had committed an egregious crime that no self-respecting Californian would ever commit. It was enough that the moment she gained some level of privacy, she quickly had a mental breakdown.

Meanwhile, in Newtopia, at roughly the same time, two girls were having their own emotional breakdowns. They were completely unrelated but it was a funny coincidence.