It was a cold and silent night, the stars shone in the eternal sky, and it was the new moon. Everything was silent in the barren hills of the Southern Land of Cones, only the cold winds whistled as it hit the rocks and the sounds of the calm river that had almost stopped in its tracks. Akio was crouching on the ground on the other side of a hill, his feet in a squat while his hands leaned on the hard rocks and held a Naginata in hand. He was wearing his usual ashigaru armor and a metal jingasa hat. A couple hundred meters away, he could see his fort, lit up by torches in the night; and in front of him, at a little distance, the sprawling Roman camp that was all quiet.

But Akio wasn't alone, beside him were a dozen more men, all armed diversely; from naginata, katanas, and two-handed swords, to bows and javelins. They were all crouched on the hill, the only sounds being their nervous breaths that were visible in these cold conditions. The climate here was ruthless, dry, and cold, there were only a few water sources in an otherwise complete and barren wasteland of rocks. But as is with deserts, it served a strategic purpose, and thus people were ready to live in such conditions. Yet, these dozen men weren't alone, it was a sortie of about a hundred men; one-fifth of all the defenders, that had sneaked out in the night.

They had been divided into groups of twelve, and Akio could roughly point out all the other hills where the groups were present, ready to jump down on the foe. This was the perfect opportunity, an enemy with its guard down, very few men for the night watch, and if the warriors even woke up to fight, in simple terms, it would be hard for them to get up in the middle of sleep and fight a foe. Still, the fort's commander had told them not to get flown away in the fight. There were only a hundred peasants and a few samurai thrown into the mix (the commander wouldn't risk his best men in this almost suicide attack, peasants are just expendable), fighting a foe that was roughly 4,000 men.

'Even if you catch the enemy by surprise, it would be only a few moments after which you're encircled and massacred. The goal here is to destroy the enemy supplies- poison their water and burn the grain and vegetables -, that's all.'

But what were the chances of even returning alive? Lest not scarred for life or lame. Akio couldn't decide, but having a slight chance of victory over complete failure was still better. Any time now, the horn would sound, and they would charge down the hill and crash upon the enemy with all their might, well, perhaps with all they're worth.

Several minutes of tense mood passed, and Akio could feel the adrenaline running through his veins, will it get him to survive, or be wasted on another peasant life? Those samurai would fight to the death, but what about him and the others? The people will sing praises and hymns to the samurai and be forgotten as unfortunate but necessary casualties. It was ironic, how, he and the other commoners were now fighting alongside the same lords and warriors who were previously there to extort them for taxes and tribute. What is to be gained from this bloody resistance? Life was peaceful as it was, and perhaps even worth living without the back-breaking taxes the 'free' daimyos used to impose. But in the end, these Daimyo and Samurai couldn't digest the fact they were defeated and were now subject to a higher authority, and rulers sitting thousands of miles away in another corner of the world; he had nothing to gain from this, but everything to lose.

But before these thoughts caught hold of Akio, the horn sounded. It echoed around the hills, and before he knew it, Akio was swept down with the rest of the crowd shouting war cries and raising their weapons. They swept down the hill at great speed, and crashed into the palisade below, although the walls barely endured the charge. Then, after a brief moment, a man came forward from among the men and planted a paper bomb on the walls, blasting huge gaps through them.

As soon as the smoke cleared, the rebels brandished their weapons and poured into the enemy camp from two opposite directions where the breach had been made. Immediately, they set work to lighting up tents into flames, and most importantly search for the baggage train where most of the supplies and spare equipment were kept. The Roman soldiers woke with a jerk, seeing flames and chaos around them. They were also quick to react, taking up their weapons and charging out of the tents to engage the enemy (most didn't even have the time to put on their armor, fighting in normal tunics), small groups of eight men somehow coordinating in the chaos.

Half an hour of bloody melee passed, with the Romans at an initial disadvantage, seeing their lack of armor and the fact they'd been woken from deep sleep with a jerk at midnight; but gradually, their numbers tipped the scale in their favor. The rebels did keep the commander's words in mind, 'Don't fight too long, burn the supplies, and come back', but none had the chance to follow it through. Even in a night attack, once the enemy got hold of what was happening, they were immediately surrounded and cut off by large swarms of men.

Akio and the men near him put up a good fight, they were at the very rear near the walls that lay blasted apart. Their naginata were somewhat suitable for this scenario, seeing their enemies' short swords and sleepy nature. Akio's plate armor was black, but now almost crimson red from blood, both the enemy's and his own. The man had lost all sense of thought, the only goal now was to cut down any Roman-looking man. His eyes were drooping lower and lower out of exhaustion and blood loss, a cut on his upper thighs was fatal but somehow bearable. The men were holding on for some reason, they could just break and flee back into the hills, but they didn't. In the distance, Akio could see and even smell, the smoke rising from the burning tents. Was the objective achieved? He didn't know. But it was certain that, the Samurai won't get to write their death poems.


Land of Frost

Maximus' eyes were drooping heavy from sleep, as he completely leaned over his horse. A cold wind was blowing, in these parts, the highest temperature you could get was thirteen degrees Celsius, and it wasn't pleasant. He wore heavy woolen robes and a cloak, that fluttered in the strong winds. He was trotting his horse quite slowly on the dirt trails, he had only recently 'learned' to ride a horse after the captain balanced him on the saddle.

'You better not try to be fast, the horse may lose control.' he'd said, and Maximus was doing well over the saddle.

They were a scouting party of four, him, Narses, the captain, and another cavalryman he didn't know. The captain was a man in his mid-thirties, with a well-maintained beard, and a cataract in his left eye. He was a self-possessed man, but his fiery eyes showed a contained anger that could burst out if he would. Maximus was placed in the middle of the group, lest he lose control of the horse. But what were they doing in this plain wasteland? Scouting ahead, of course. The 'primary' sources being gossip and unreliable locals, the rebel 'band' had gathered near a manor house in the countryside, their work was to confirm the info and add some details.

The party rode on against the strong winds, their cloaks fluttering in the wind. They continued on their path, and the captain spoke up from the front,

"You doin' well kid?" He didn't look back, but he was talking to Maximus, who also replied,

"Well enough, at least I haven't fallen." The other cavalryman chuckled from the back,

"You've already fallen enough in the commander's favor. He wouldn't assign someone he thinks is good to scout vast enemy armies." The captain rolled his eyes toward the rider from the front, and replied coldly,

"It's not like that, he's a shinobi so the best guy for this job. And you better not be saying something like that for me." The rider kept silent after that, and they quietly continued their journey. Their visibility was drastically reduced by the fog that covered the area and greatly limited their line of sight. As they rode on, suddenly, the captain halted and commanded the others to do so as well. He drastically reduced his pace, now slowly trotting forward. He dismounted his horse, and then walked forward, suddenly stopping at one point. The others behind craned their necks to see what was happening, and dismounted as well.

The captain knelt, and soon Maximus could also see it. This had been a hill, and now they were at its other end. The fog was thick, and the only thing that could be deciphered was that they were at a considerable altitude. The captain took hold of a large rock nearby, and gently threw it down, a brief moment of silence, but no thudding sound came, the captain commented,

"We're at a considerable height, the ground is far below. This could've been a good vantage point,"

"But the mist." Narses completed his sentence, the captain nodded in agreement. He got up and turned to mount his horse,

"There's nothing we can do, let's turn around and find another route." But before the captain and others could mount their horses and again ride away, Maximus spoke up with a little nervousness,

"I can try going down, I'm a shinobi." The captain turned his face, and looked Maximus over with a judging glance, then replied calmly,

"Okay then, boy, you can go down if you're confident. But I can't wait forever, so be quick." Maximus nodded and quickly dismounted his horse. He stretched his body, and quickly got near the slope.

It was a rather steep and green hill, with a few pine trees here and there on the slope (as far as could be seen), and Maximus quickly got to descending it. He conducted chakra through his feet and cautiously brisked down the hill. The mist was clearing now, and Maximus could see thirty meters away. However, before he had even got down, his eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks. After a few seconds, he turned over his heels and ran as fast as he could back up.

When he got back up he was panting, partly due to the ascending trek, and breathed heavily. The commander commented,

"You're back quickly." Maximus didn't say anything, and kept panting heavily with his hands over his knees, the captain continued inquiring,

"What's the matter?" Maximus looked up, and spoke in a hurried tone,

"We need to get back, quickly. There's, there's an army down there!"


Author's notes

Hey there, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Sorry for the rather late update, I didn't have enough time to write, so pardon these inconsistencies. I am planning to end this in the next three chapters, and then the focus will shift back to Konoha (or broadly speaking, the actual shinobi) again. Any ideas are welcome, do leave a review if you've read this far.