Gengyo's men snatched up horses of their own and rode behind him. With the death of their Lord and of several of their generals, the Oda army had plunged into aimless chaos. Many of the men simply fled, for they had nothing to fight for. They had lost, well and truly.

"Is it bearable?" Gengyo asked, turning his head in his saddle. Yamagata had taken an arrow through his side and he winced with each bound of his horse. He held the reins in one hand, tending to the wound with the other, his face clenched in pain like a fist.

"A-aye," Yamagata barely managed to say. Morohira had needed to lift him in the saddle. They were not the only one's sporting injury. Three of their elite guardsmen had perished and all of them were nursing some injury or other.

In regards to his own injury, Gengyo seemed to show no concern. He hid the awkwardness that came with the loss of a hand and did everything with an acted ease. He rode by the front as he always did, taking the lead of his men.

They galloped at speed, for preparations would need to be made. The Oda province of Owari would be weak for a long time. They were never truly strong in the first place, it was their commander that made them so. There were so many ripe pickings, but Gengyo lacked the resources to take care of them all.

"Speak no word of my injury to the men. It will unsettle them and affect the morale," Gengyo said as the wind rushed passed them and they leapt over streams and negotiated their way through a sparse wood, doing their best to avoid low hanging branches and being hit from the saddle.

Jikouji nodded his agreement, a dark look on his face. He was not able to dismiss the day's events as easily as his Lord and he still boiled with rage, cursing Oda a thousand times over in his head. "That bastard… By the gods, that bastard. Neither of us gain anything from this. That fool has merely weakened armies that should have been allies from the start."

"Hence where the goose puffs out his feathers and makes himself look big, but at the first sign of a fight he flees. To crush enemy after enemy is not worth it. An injury will be met down the road," Togashi said.

"Not unless the odds are entirely in our favour," Gengyo said. "There is a school of swordsmanship that the west favours. Their swords are light and thin and they flex. They wield them with but a single hand, aiming to thrust, rather than slash. I will have Takeshi make one these blades for me."

"You still wish to fight at the front, after all you've endured?" Akiko asked, her voice tainted by shock. "You've done enough, my love, please! Your mind is enough a weapon to slice down any foe. You had need not put your body in harm's way."

Gengyo favoured her with a light smile. The kind of smile that should hang from an old man's mouth as he relaxed in the warm of the sun, not the kind that should have been worn by a man that had just lost his hand. "It is the Miura Tadakata who fights his own battles that the soldier respects. It is that me that I respect. I lost my hand, dear Akiko, what of it? A man will call it a weakness, but I will see it as the door to greater strength. I will get stronger still, my dear, for now I have a reason to."

"Woah now. Let's not get too much stronger, alright?" Morohira chipped in, fearing the prospect of his son slipping even further ahead of him.

"Only strong enough to fight ten of you with a single hand, rest assured," Gengyo replied without missing a beat.

The castle was nearing ahead of them. Yamagata had grown quiet a time ago. Every time Gengyo glanced back around the man had more blood staining the side of his horse and his hands. His eyes had glazed over, seeing little.

"Jikouji, go on ahead. Get the gates open and find a healer for Yamagata," Gengyo said.

"I will. You need a healer as much as any man though. I will see to that as well," Jikouji replied, putting his heels to his horse, spurring it faster.

"That would be appreciated. Keep word of my injury as quiet as you can," Gengyo called after him.

They could see the torches held by the patrolling guardsmen in the distance. Jikouji's mount was pushed to the limits as it went on ahead. They heard the exchange of words but at that distance, they could not be made out. The gates soon opened and more guards came out from them, each bearing torches, coming to greet their leader. Gengyo slid his hand behind his back and Akiko watched him do so, biting her lip in worry.

"My Lord!" The guardsmen said as they greeted him, all bowing deeply at the waist, wearing the hard iron conical hats of city guardsmen. They were men that Morojo had recruited. Gengyo slowed his horse alongside them and jumped from it, betraying no weakness.

"That man there," Gengyo pointed to Yamagata, "help him from his horse. Gently now. Carry him through the gates."

Yamagata could only spare a groan as the men reached from his. Ten men surrounded him, forming a stretcher with their arms. They moved slowly and carefully under the watchful gaze of their Lord, not daring to do anything that might cause pain to the wounded General.

Only when they had passed the gates did Gengyo start after them, almost tripping. The loss of blood had made him dizzy. The cloth that he covered the stump of arm in was matted with blood. There was no one to see it though, only Akiko, whose eyes once more clouded with tears.