"Might I say, that was an extremely poor choice of words, young Akiyama." Jikouji purred with a smile.

Akiyama glared at him sharply, his lip twitching. The old man had an arrogant tongue. He would make sure to end him personally, once this first obstacle was overcome.

Gengyo was drawing his blade from the scabbard, tutting lightly. "It is a shame. You are worth much to this army of yours. You are the cement that binds these average men together. Your strength is your army's weakness."

They did not even see him move. One moment he was sat on the back of his horse, the next he had disappeared. Akiyama opened his mouth to give reply, frowning when no words came out. There was a distinct itch near his throat, and through it, he felt as though he couldn't talk. He scratched at it in irritation, surprised when his fingers slipped and return back red.

"What…?" The hair on the back of their necks prickled. There was the smallest of cuts through Akiyama's throat. A small trickle of blood left it, gradually increasing in intensity as the skin was forced further and further apart. The Grand General choked, clawing at the wound with his fingers, his eyes wide and bulging, watching Gengyo return into his saddle.

It was just deep enough to take his life. Strength left his body and he fell forwards in his saddle, resting his head on top of his trusty warhorse, drawing his last breaths.

Thousands of soldiers were so quiet that even the clicking of Gengyo's sword returning into the depths of its scabbard was audible. He regarded them with a refreshed smile. He had demonstrated his skill with a certain amount of theatricality as to render himself as something above a man. He had not allowed them to see the full depths of capabilities, but had forecast how easily he could pluck a life from this world.

"Allow me to repeat my previous offer: surrender and live, fight and die. The choice is yours."

"BASTARD!" Hara roared. Never in his life had he felt so insulted. Surrender would not even pass through is mind. He would secure revenge for Akiyama, and he would do it immediately. He thrust his horse past the rest of his dumbfounded men, growling furiously, his sword fueled by anger. Morohira and Jikouji attempted to step forward to block his strike, but they were too late. He slipped past and let loose an aggressive blow, aiming to cleave Gengyo from head to toe.

With Gengyo's sword sheathed, he was inclined to make him feel rather foolish. But there was more to a warrior than merely his weapon. When that strike came to claim his life, he met it with metal, using the steel plate of his shoulder armour to ensure that it would not cut. In the next motion, he grabbed the swordsman's hands and twisted, breaking them at the wrist, before taking Hara's own blade and ending his life with it.

"Is there anyone else?" He asked, feigning calmness, as though the slumped body in front of him was the most natural thing in the world. In truth, he had made a mistake. He had not anticipated that an attack would come with so little warning. He quietly scolded himself for sheathing his blade, having been too caught up in the act. There would be a sizeable bruise on top of his shoulder now, as a result of that foolishness.

But by the eyes of the masses, he had demonstrated invincibility. They caught not even a whiff of mortality. Who were they, professional warriors or not, to fight something that was not inclined by nature to die? What worth was there in that death?

In the span of moments, he had ended the lives of two of their strongest fighters. His earlier words were true. With the death of Akiyama, the Takeda forces collapsed. The foot soldiers lost the will to fight and the Generals descended into a state of berserk, more than disgruntled to see two close comrades fall with so little dignity.

The Miura peasants that had managed to survive were in the midst of prayer, their faces coated in smiles. Of the thousands that had come, but a few hundred remained, and they were amongst them, but by the Gods were they pleased to have headed the call. This man that they had placed their trust in, he was like nothing they had seen before. He ascended even above what they claimed to call legends. Where was his weakness? There didn't seem to be any. He would fulfil that promise to them. The fields would be a thing of the past.

They began to cheer despite themselves. A gaggle of under a thousand men raising noise to drown out millions. Ears were fit to burst at this expression of animalistic victory.

The Takeda men were done. They allowed their blades to slip from their hands, hanging their heads.

"COWARDS!" General Obata barked, beginning to swing at his own men, disgusted by their lack of resolve. Other Generals joined him.

With each second the bounty that Gengyo would reap was decreasing, and so he turned to his men, his own trusted Generals, and asked of them one final thing. "Today you've written history. You���ve pushed yourselves beyond what is humanly possible. You're more than that now, you're Gods. You've achieved more than I could have ever hoped for, and I do not have the right to ask you to do more. Yet, with victory so close, it would be my honour to have you fight by my side, and see and end to this battle."

"Stupid. Of course we're coming. We're not going to let you have all the fun yourself." Akiko called out, her hair matted in blood, though she was no less beautiful for it.

"Aye, if you tried to tell us to wait now, we'd have your scalp for it!" Jikouji declared, brandishing his sword.