"Light the fire!" Gengyo ordered, standing in his position of elevation. As per his command, the torch was tossed in, and within moments its flame began to take hold. Expertly constructed it was, and the bonfire soon burst out, completely ignited, bright and flickering.
It immediately caught the attention of the Imagawa guardsmen who had been tasked with the unfortunate job of this evening’s guard duty. There was a considerable lack of stimulation during such a task, and they usually found themselves merely walking up and down in a futile attempt of passing the time.
The soldiers were assembled around the fire in a circle, standing in complete silence, awaiting his next order. The commands they had been given leading up to this event were relatively simple, and not a single man – not even Gengyo himself – was quite sure what to expect.
"Who is our Lord of fire?" He called out.
"ZENOK!" Came the reply, without a single shred of hesitation, followed by a synchronised stamp of the foot. They had been told to give that single answer in response to any question that Gengyo asked. It helped to keep uniformity constant which seemed rather important when dealing in occultism.
"TO WHOM DO WE OWE OUR LOYALTY?"
"ZENOK!" They repeated, more aggressively this time, caught up in the passion of their leader.
"BEGIN THE RITUAL!"
At his words, the circle began to move, slowly at first, as the men followed each other round, offering half hearted praise to this god that they had invented mere hours before.
"ZENOK DEMANDS TO SEE YOUR PASSION!" He called out with force. They would convince no one of madness if they acted like angsty teens embarrassed to be dancing at a disco.
It took some of the less self-conscious folks to lead the charge into battle, as Morohira stepped in wildly, jumping enthusiastically as he went around, waving his arms, imitating what he thought madness to look like. "MERCIFUL GOD, GRANT ME STRENGTH!" He begged.
Dissatisfied with the idea of being bested by Morohira, Rokkaku soon joined in with some madness of his own, casting his kimono from his upper body, before springing through the circle with vigour, overtaking them. "ZENOK!" He screeched over and over.
Il soon joined in, with some pathetic shenanigans of his own, and then, it was down to Togashi to continue the trend. He let loose a dissatisfied sigh, terribly unwilling to get involved and have his reputation stained. And yet he had a duty, to Gengyo, and to Zenok. He reached down, and lathered his cheeks in mud, before proceeding to dance around the circle, waving his arms like a hefty orangutan.
As more and more people started to join in, it began to look rather fun to the rest, and they too let off a lid, and descended into a bit of madness. It was easier than they had first thought. More of a release than a concentrated action.
The drink was brought in, as was the food, and so, as they danced round, they could snatch up their desired item and indulge themselves. The drink helped lend a bit more flavour to their antics, and it shape up to be a true mass of madness by all appearances.
"Is it all ready?" Gengyo asked Kitajo, as they watched over the wreathing circle together.
"Yes sir. It’s all done."
"Very good." He affirmed. Now all they required was to wait for the appropriately opportune time. He turned to look towards the walls of Shigeto castle, where he assumed the guards would be gathering.
And gathering they were indeed. They abandoned their posts merely to bear witness, slack jawed, wondering what on earth was going on. That initial shock did not last long, as it was replaced by an intense humour.
"These... These are the people who are trying to attack us? Haha! No wonder we haven’t been ordered to clean them up yet! They’re dullards!" One main exclaimed, holding his belly as he heaved with laughter.
"I’ve never even heard of this Zenok. Do you reckon he’s one of those foreign gods?"
"What does it matter? If this is the rabble that support him, then they’re sure to fall against us easily! They’d probably do battle drunk!"
"I know... But didn’t they beat Matsudaira’s forces? Five hundred to eight thousand. There might be some strange power to this god."
"They had the defending advantage, that’s all! Just dumb luck."
"Do you really think dumb luck could beat that Matsudaira? If not for him, then we likely would have been wiped out by the Oda."
"Even the best men are going to make mistakes at some point. Use your eyes, man! This is an army of fools that we’re facing. You should be giving thanks to this Zenok, instead. We get to wet our blades on this lot before marching off onto the Oda."
"I suppose..."
Commotion started to stir back within the Red Feather camp, as for the first time in a while, Gengyo called out a new set of instructions. "ZENOK IS NEAR! I CAN FEEL IT! CALL THE GOOD LORD, SO THAT WE MIGHT HEAR HIS VERDICT!"
"ZENOK! ZENOK! ZENOK!" They chanted, stilling the dancing circle, and bowing low towards the fire, unsteady from their drunkenness. They no longer questioned how strange their actions were. It was all a new kind of game that they delighted in taking part in, and loose smiles hung from their jaws. Even if all this proved to be for naught, it had been an enjoyable evening. Indeed, one of the best parties they had partaken in!
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHHH
A deep growl of unusual volume carried across the plains, bringing about complete silence.
"Good work." Gengyo whispered to Kitajo, receiving true confirmation that his contraption would work.
He looked towards a certain hill, hidden behind which there was a cone-shaped instrument, framed with wood, and clothed in tightened cloth. At the end of which, there was a certain old man with a devilish grin on his face, as he assumed the personality of Zenok, the god of fire.
ARISE! CHILDREN OF FIRE! A thunderous voice called out, compelling all to obey. Even those soldiers atop the walls of Shigeto could hear it, as though someone was standing directly beside them, shouting at the top of their lungs. They stepped back, startled, their faces white, sharing a glance with each other, before looking back towards the source, hoping to find some degree of rationality.
All the Red Feather stood up at once, rather impressed, knowing this to be noise of their leader’s making.
"OH, ZENOK, LORD OF FIRE! WE BESEECH THEE! TELL US WHAT WE MUST DO! HOW WE MUST GO FORWARD! WHAT OUR FATE WILL BE!" Gengyo begged, similarly throwing himself into his role.
There was the briefest of pauses, before several jars of oil were thrown into the fire – from the behind, so the men of Shigeto could not see – and the raging bonfire grew several feet higher, burning devilishly.
YOU WILL CONTINUE FORTH, AND BY MY WILL, YOU SHALL STORM SHIGETO CASTLE, KILLING EVERY LAST MAN!
"KILL! KILL! KILL!" The men seconded, just in time for the flames to begin to die down, and for the voice to go quiet.
"ZENOK HAS SPOKEN, MEN OF THE RED FEATHER! SHIGETO WILL FALL!"
"HAH!" They stamped their feet as one, slamming their fists into their sternums. It was terrifying to behold such a united will, and more terrifying still was the inexplicable voice, and the contortions of the flame.
The Imagawa guards had turned a frightening shade of white, gulping deeply. There was nothing they could think of to explain this phenomenon. To them, it really had been a god speaking like that. What else could be so loud?
"It r-r-really was then... They have a god on their side! We’re done! We have to tell Imagawa!" One of the men stammered, shaking, beginning to walk back to the guards’ room to report what he had seen.
"Idiot! Stop!" One of the other men grasped him. "Even if you tell Imagawa, would he call it off? Would he really listen? No! You’ll get executed for being a coward. Think, for f.u.c.ks sake."
"B-but what then? You heard too... We have no chance."
"That’s what the voice said... But we still can’t be sure. Keep it between us, for now. We still have the superior forces. We out number them heavily. There’s no way they’ll be able to take the river gate, don’t you see? And if things really do turn against us, then we’ll be the first to run, yeah? Be smart. Calm yourself." He slapped his shoulder, looking towards the other men who found themselves nodding in agreement. If this was a battle destined to be lost, then they would not dare give their lives for it.
"I don’t want to die... But you’re right. We’ll do as you say. If Imagawa dies, then there will be no one to punish us for deserting."
This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶