One year while whiling away his free time in the libraries of the Akodo, Kaneka had come upon a legend entitled, Persistence. It was the tale of the rise, fall, redemption, and death of Hida Kisada. The most striking part of the tale, the part that still lodged itself in Kaneka’s memory, was the writer’s description of life on the Kaiu Wall. The most deadly threat upon the wall, the most dangerous enemy one could face, was silence.

It was not the overwhelming attacks by goblin hordes or the occasion mad charge by a gigantic oni recently emerged from the Pit that truly tested one’s mettle. A warrior adapted even to such unusual threats, given time. It was the days of patient waiting, when no threat came at all, when a soldier merely stood his post at the edge of the wall, staring out into the Shadowlands. At times like that, you could do nothing but wonder what horrible foe would come next. The things your own mind would create could sap courage and hope from your soul more efficiently than any monster. The wall might stand strong and whole, but if a warrior looked to the right or left he would see it stretching off forever in the distance. He would wonder if, elsewhere in the lands of the Crab, his brethren were being overrun and rendering his vigil here irrelevant. All the while, the writer claimed, a Crab could feel the Shadowlands watching him, feeding off his fear and using it to fashion more demons.

Kaneka had found the words interesting, but he had always wondered the truth of them. Almost six years ago when he rode to the City of the Lost he had found the Shadowlands an intimidating place but had not known the depths of fear and hopelessness the Crab author had described. In the Shadowlands, he had constantly been surrounded by enemies. He had accepted early on that he would die, and felt no regret. His only comrades had been clay soldiers and three siblings that had been, until that time, his greatest rivals. There was no time to dwell upon his situation – urgency had given him focus. Here, guarding the Wall at the Emperor’s command, the mind would sometimes wander. Though he ignored most of his own darker musings, he had seen the hopelessness building in the eyes of his soldiers. He saw the burnt, dead look in the eyes of veteran Crab soldiers. The Kaiu Wall was not merely a battle field, it was the anvil upon which the Shadowlands hammer fell. Those who stood between were either forged into emotionless weapons or broken.

For that, at least, Kaneka felt some small measure of gratitude toward his brother for sending him. Those of his soldiers who did not die or go mad during their time here would return better warriors for it. Not that Naseru had such a thing in mind when he “assigned” him here, of course, but in a place like this the Shogun preferred to dwell upon the positive.

A whistling sound rose in the distance, causing Kaneka to look up curiously. The Crab soldiers all around him sprang into action, hurrying to bolster the wall or running toward the signal. The Crab had many signals for attack, never relying on a single one in case the Shadowlands began to mimic their signals to weaken defenses. When Kaneka had asked the Crab to reveal their system of signals, their meaning, and how they chose to use which at what time they had refused. His troops were here as reserves – if they truly wished to know what was happening they were to simply follow the Crab’s lead. Kaneka did not like being in such a subordinate position, but he could not argue that was exactly what the Emperor had commanded him to be.

“Kaneka-sama,” a Phoenix warrior jogged up and bowed sharply. “The fifth section is under attack.”

The time for waiting was over.

“Move out,” Kaneka barked to the dozen samurai around him. They all broke into a rapid run, moving east along the besieged area. “What enemies, Nizoru?” he demanded.

“Mixed, my lord,” Nizoru answered as they ran. “Primarily ogre and bakemono, but there are a handful of oni holding the rear. The Hiruma were unfamiliar with this particular breed.”

Kaneka swore under his breath. On the Wall, unidentified enemies were always the most deadly. There was no way to know what an oni could do until it had killed a few people. Sometimes, he could almost sense a malevolent delight from the Shadowlands itself, glaring upon the offending Wall each time its inhabitants hurled themselves against it. He suspected that one day, when Daigotsu and Iuchiban had been destroyed, the Crab would discover that some far greater evil existed deeper in those wretched lands. On that day he wondered if even he would have courage to keep fighting.

“Call the reserves to reinforce the third and fourth sections,” he ordered Nizoru. “They will not break through to threaten the rest of the wall.” He pointed to one of the other guards running alongside him. “Drop behind the Wall and support the Hida in case anything breaks through their lines.”

The fifth section was the centermost portion of the Kaiu Wall between the fifth and sixth watchtowers. The area between those two towers was Kaneka’s command, the portion Hida Kuon had reluctantly assigned to him upon his arrival. It had not been a pleasant task, for there were many among the Crab who bore the Shogun considerable ill will for his role in the Yasuki War some years ago. The fact that Kaneka was acting on the Emperor’s orders did not help matters much; the Crab did not appreciate the implication that they could not handle their duty well enough alone. In the months since then, the Hida had not come to like Kaneka, but they respected and trusted him enough that this small section of the Wall was now left mostly to his defense. Kuon had even grown to begrudgingly respect Kuon enough to give him a jade weapon to keep for his own defense – though it was only a knife. A handful of Crab still ranked among his forces, of course, all hand-picked by Lord Kuon to make sure the Shogun’s soldiers did not make some grave mistake in the Wall’s defense.

The fifth section was a war zone. The wall of archers atop the sixth section halted their merciless assault on the assembled Shadowlands forces only long enough to allow Kaneka and his guard through, then closed ranks and resumed firing a seemingly endless volley of arrows into the massed creatures below. Kaneka’s guard formed a protective perimeter around him and they all moved forward as one, crashing into the flank of a large group of bakemono like a tsunami upon the shore. “Danjuro!” Kaneka shouted. “Sobu! Rally to me!”

The two lieutenants fought through the ranks toward him. Shiba Danjuro’s armor shone as brilliant as the sunrise, while Hida Sobu’s was dark and jagged, as menacing as a moonless night in the wilderness. The two lieutenants could not be more different. “Report!” he commanded.

“The bakemono are attacking in waves,” Danjuro shouted over the clamor. “They are attempting to force a weakness in our defense so that the ogres can break through our defense!”

“The oni are not attacking,” Sobu added. “They wait in reserve!”

Kaneka nodded and struck with his blade, cutting through three charging goblins with a single strike. “Be prepared to order your men back from the forward edge,” he commanded. “When they attack, it will come quickly.”

As if on command, a gigantic creature with a body like a bulbous radish hurled itself up over the wall’s edge and crashed down onto the stone. Most of Kaneka’s men escaped, but a pair of Legionnaires were crushed by the thing’s vast bulk. The beast danced about on three stump-like legs, releasing an eerie, childlike laughter as it viewed the carnage it had wrought. Despite the chaos, Kaneka could not help but think it looked like a fat child stomping in puddles after the rain.

“Fire!” he shouted.

His command was followed almost instantly by a hail of arrows from the sixth and fourth sections. In the span of a second, the beast was riddled with dozens of flaming arrows. There were a handful of fiery assaults that could only come from shugenja, and the beast’s putrid flesh burst into flame. There was a high-pitched keening sound as the creature burned. Kaneka paled when he realized that heard the creature’s laughter grow louder.

“It’s a trap!” Sobu shouted.

The creature shuddered and died. As it did, the bulbous mass that comprised its body ruptured. Something black and long-legged leapt from inside it. It moved too fast for the eye to follow, but it flittered across the top of the Wall and disappeared somewhere to Kaneka’s right. Kaneka had little time to search for it, as three ogres appeared at the breach, climbing up to join the fray. “Fire!” Kaneka shouted again, pointing to the creatures with his blade.

Even as his orders were carried out, something slammed into Kaneka’s side with breathtaking force. One of his guards had leapt upon him, pinning his arms to the ground and holding a blade to the Shogun’s throat. A trickle of his blood ran down the blade’s length and onto the man’s hand. The guard’s eyes were solid black, just as the oni’s body had been. “Kill Shogun!” the man rasped in a singsong voice. His words reverberated oddly, as if coming from the depths of a well.

“Danjuro!” a voice shouted. The possessed samurai looked up for a moment, its blade never leaving the flesh of Kaneka’s throat. At the edge of his vision, Kaneka could see Shiba Danjuro pointing at him. “Do not move, Danjuro-san,” the Phoenix said with a meaningful look. “I will deal with this beast.”

Kaneka scowled in confusion, opening his mouth to reply, then he realized the Phoenix’s plan.

“No Danjuro!” the demon croaked, looking down at Kaneka in confusion. “Shogun!”

“Idiot beast,” Danjuro spat. “I am the Shogun!” he held his blade in a defensive posture.

The creature seemed to hesitate, then glanced back down at Kaneka, eyes narrowing. In an instant, Kaneka knew the creature was about to kill him regardless, but Danjuro had given him the moment of hesitation he needed. He drew the jade knife from his obi and drove it into the creature’s side. It rolled off him, shrieking, and lunged toward Danjuro.

Hida Sobu appeared at Danjuro’s side, staggering the possessed samurai atop him with a devastating blow to the skull with his tetsubo. Kaneka could tell from the way the guard’s head moved that its skull had been shattered. Still, it fought on, heedless of the damage its stolen body had taken. It knocked Sobu away with a heavy backhand, and pulled back to end Danjuro’s life. Kaneka hurled his jade dagger at the creature, striking it full in the chest. The demon hissed in pain and fell backwards from the blow. Sobu, now on his feet again, fell upon his possessed kinsmen with a flurry of tetsubo blows. The sounds of breaking bone and shrieking demon followed for several seconds thereafter, and then silence. Gathering his wits, Kaneka looked out at the approaching hordes and saw a dozen other oni like the first.

The quarters Kaneka had used for the past few months were hardly lavish, as was the Shogun’s preference. The Crab had little care for comfort in their military outposts, a philosophy that Kaneka found quite refreshing. He had long been of the opinion that unnecessary luxuries led to weakness, and he would not tolerate weakness in himself or in his men. It was almost unfortunate the distrust the Crab held for him, considering how similar they were in both tactics and personal philosophy. The empty, stone walls of his small chambers helped him focus, helped him remember his purpose. For that, he was grateful.

“You summoned me, my lord?”

Kaneka looked up and gestured for the speaker to enter. “You were the first to join me after I arrived in Phoenix lands, Nizoru,” he said plainly.

“Yes, Shogun.”

“You have served me well and faithfully since that time,” Kaneka added. “You will assume command of Shiba Hayako’s legions, assuming the rank of shireikan. She fell in battle today.” He looked up and fixed the warrior with a stare. “Try to honor her warriors as she did.”

“I will, Kaneka-sama,” the warrior replied with a bow. He lingered for a moment after Kaneka returned with a nod, causing him to glance back up and raise his eyebrows questioning. “Forgive my impertinence, my lord, but there was an Imperial messenger asking to see you in the court chamber I fear our hosts were… proving difficult.”

Kaneka barely suppressed a smirk. The Crab cared even less for Imperial sycophants than he did. He considered leaving the messenger to suffer for a while, but decided against it. It would only sour Kuon’s attitude toward him even further. “Tell him I will see him now,” he said, rolling a scroll tightly. “And please prepare these for delivery.”

“At once, my lord,” Nizoru answered, reaching out to accept the scrolls with another bow.

Kaneka held the scroll for a second longer. “This is a letter regarding Hayako’s death, as well as commendations to Shiba Mirabu for both you and Danjuro for your service. Impress upon the messenger that I expect this message to arrive intact and rather quickly.”

“Of course,” Nizoru said. “Will there be anything else, my lord?”

The Shogun sat quietly for a few moments. “How many men did we lose today, Nizoru?”

“Seventeen, Shogun,” the Phoenix answered. “Eighty-six men lost so far this month.”

Kaneka nodded and waved the warrior away. New recruits arrived every day, as they had been for years. His army would not want for soldiers, though he regretted the loss of so many good men. It was a good death, one met in sacrifice to the Empire, but it was death nonetheless, in a war that was not his to fight. The Crab were more than capable of holding the Wall without his aid. If his soldiers must die in battle, let that battle mean something and bring glory to the title of Shogun.

After a moment’s introspection, Kaneka sensed someone approaching his door. “Enter,” he said loudly when the silhouette appeared outside his shoji screen.

The screen slid open and a tall, robust man with a neat topknot stepped into the chamber. “Greetings, great Shogun,” he offered with a wide smile and an excessively gracious bow.

“Greetings, lowly messenger,” Kaneka said, raising an eyebrow. “What news from Toshi Ranbo?”

The messenger blinked for a moment. “I am Otomo Shujito,” he continued. “My associate Kakita Munemori-sama asked me to bring you news from the capitol.”

“I assumed as much,” Kaneka said irritably. “Cease wasting my time and deliver your message.”

Shujito frowned. “As you wish,” he said finally. “I have brought a collection of scrolls summarizing events in the northern Empire. Munemori-sama thought perhaps you might be somewhat out of touch, so far removed from civilized society.”

Kaneka turned slowly to face the messenger. “You might wish to let Hida Kuon know how far we are from ‘civilized society.’ I am certain he would find your comments enlightening.”

“Come now, Shogun, we both know you were sent here because the Emperor fears your great power and cunning,” chuckled Shujito, gesturing at the stark chambers. “I can scarcely imagine an individual such as yourself being housed in such a place. The Crab do not appreciate you. Why do you defend them?”

“Because I am a guest in their house, and I have fought by their side,” Kaneka said in a low, quiet voice, “Speak ill of them again and I will cut your tongue from your head and throw you over the wall. The scent of your blood will draw predators quickly, so pray that you bleed to death first.” He smiled, but it was not a pleasant expression.

“I am… I apologize, Kaneka-sama,” the man said, paling visibly. “I… I don’t understand. Munemori told me you… you were one of us.”

“An ally but not a sycophant who views himself as better than the man who preserve his own decadent way of life,” Kaneka said. “I hold the Empire’s best interests at heart, but that does not mean I will suffer fools. If you cannot see the debt we all owe the Crab, then surely I would do the Empire a favor by relieving them of the need to protect you.”

“Yes, of course,” the messenger stammered. He fell to his knees, pressing his forehead to the floor in a show of humility. “Forgive me, Kaneka-sama.”

“Earn my forgiveness,” he sneered, returning to his small writing table. “What news do you bring from Munemori?” he asked again.

Shujito licked his lips and rose, straightening his clothing. “You are of course aware of the challenge the Emperor has issued to Iuchiban.”

“Hyperbole,” Kaneka said with a wave of his hand. “We both know Naseru does not actually expect Iuchiban to respond, although it would be to his benefit if the Bloodspeaker did so. Iuchiban was defeated twice when the clans allied against him. No one truly expects Iuchiban to repeat the mistakes of the past so easily, especially my brother. No, that proclamation was merely to bolster the spirits of his subjects than anything else. Iuchiban will attack when he chooses, not when we do. Yet the Emperor knows he cannot stand idle as the Bloodspeaker plans – he must do something, or at least appear to be doing something.”

“True enough,” Shujito answered. “Appearances are quite important. Thus, is it not true that the Shogun be by his Emperor’s side in the event the Bloodspeaker arrives?”

Kaneka reclined for a moment and considered the notion. “I was banished here because the Emperor views me as a threat,” Kaneka said, “and he was not completely inaccurate in that belief. He dispatched me to guard the Wall so that I would be far from Imperial concerns. I do not think he would be pleased to see my return.”

“But with all respect, Lord Shogun, nothing larger than a pack of goblins has managed to pass the wall since your arrival here,” Shujito returned. “Could it not be said that your mission was a success and that now the best way for you to defend the Empire is to support your Emperor’s challenge? Has not Lord Kuon vowed that the breaches of the past shall not be repeated? Would it not be a gesture of the highest respect to place your faith in the Hida lord’s oath?” The Otomo spread his hands, then folded them within his sleeves.

Kaneka frowned. “Why defy the Emperor so openly?” Kaneka asked. “What would going to Toshi Ranbo accomplish? At least I can do some good here, as I wait for my opportunity.” Kaneka silently paced the room, considering the possibilities. “Yet if I appear with my forces in Toshi Ranbo, claiming to have arrived at the Emperor’s orders, Naseru has only two choices. He can support my claim and tacitly free me from my exile here, or he can denounce me for disobedience… in which case he would look foolish for sending away his Shogun when he expects an attack from the Emperor’s greatest enemy. He would demonstrate an inability to control his subjects, and ultimately would be forced to deal with me through force.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“With the Legions spread so thin hunting Iuchiban, force is not an option for him,” Shujito said.

“I know,” Kaneka replied. “Perhaps I could even be of some service in that regard, helping my brother protect his ill-defended city.” The Shogun smiled faintly. “The Crane and Lion are my brother’s closest allies, but I doubt they would support him if I occupied Toshi Ranbo. Kurohito has faced me before – if I do not threaten the Emperor he would be reluctant to risk his Crane against me again. As for the Lion… I doubt they would readily oppose me.”

Shujito raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You consider your forces a match for the Crane and Lion? I was given to understand you arrived in Crab lands with only a few hundred at your command.”

Kaneka glanced at the man in disgust. “Don’t be a fool. Over five years maintaining my camps, with only a few hundred at my command? I have limited my command to a few hundred at a time. I train my soldiers, then send them back to their posts. Since I arrived here, I have gradually sent word for all those who have served me to return to my armies. I have nearly three thousand Phoenix warriors at my command, with two thousand more of mixed clans, mostly Lion, Dragon, and Crab.” He shook his head. “Did Munemori tell you none of this? I am certain he knows.”

“You have used your time of exile well, Lord Shogun,” Shujito said, impressed.

“I do not waste time, Otomo,” he replied. “Now do not waste yours. I have need of your services.”

“Whatever you ask, my lord.”

Kaneka sat at his table once more, and began writing a letter to his allies in Toshi Ranbo…