Outskirts of Azusa Field
Border of Lightning and Bear Countries
…1500 hours
The field was like any other rolling sea of grass in the fertile foothills of Southern Lightning, where many population centers had risen over the centuries. Blessed with a temperate climate and adequate rainfall, the land was as good of a place to raise livestock as it was to farm, and thus highly desirable by any nation. The shinobi team was now on the extreme edge of Itou province, ruled by a Count Tatsumi, who was now suspected of selling his loyalty to the Kingdom next door for a sizeable amount. Of course, the land itself did not recognize the political boundaries drawn by men, nor who claimed ownership of its ancient soils, and thus went on existing as it always had. But to Masao, the illusory boundary between the two restive nations was actually quite important, and extremely relevant at this point.
The Sennin crouched in the grass, training his spyglass on a valley below where a plume of dust rose unnaturally from the otherwise undisturbed ground. What he saw through it made him frown, not so much because of what was disturbing the ground, but where the ground was being disturbed. He swore under his breath, handing the spyglass to his Spymaster.
“Bastards. The meeting’s going to be at least ten kilometers deep into Bear territory,” he growled to Do Natsu. “If something happens we’re definitely in breach of international law and we can’t claim we didn’t know we were intruding,” he said, shaking his head. He adjusted his headset to the correct frequency, connecting him with Takayama, the new ANBU Vice Commander, and a trusted friend. “Vice Commander, this is Takaki. What’s your status?”
A few seconds later, a voice came over the air.
“I read you loud and clear, Sennin. We’re on the other side of the valley, about fifteen klicks deep. We haven’t been sighted. Only a few two-man patrols of Hoshigakure forces, genin-rank at best. Mounted Bear Army cavalry riding along the paths, quite lazily I might add. We’ll be at striking distance of the meeting site within five minutes,” said Takayama Shimada, with his characteristic, comforting certainty.
“What’s your exfil plan?” asked Masao.
“Once the subjects are secured, we make a dash to tunnel X4-A5, and from there, to Raiden’s Eye,” said the Vice Commander, referencing one of the many transport tunnels through the hills that Cloud had bored during the Bear-Marsh War for quick access to the then-besieged Bear Country.
“Very good, Vice Commander. …Continue your advance and await my signal, then. Takaki over and out,” said Masao. He took a deep breath in. True to form, Takayama’s ANBU squad were even deeper than his own, and in fact were virtually on top of the meeting site already. That was business as usual for the Black Operatives, however. It made him proud that he was once a leader as well. Perhaps with Takayama’s expertise, the arrests and transports would go smoothly after all, and the services of the mednins would not be needed. That was the best possible scenario, after all. Masao turned to Natsu and the rest.
“Well, team, the ANBU squad is here ahead of time. If they can invade another country so smoothly, so can we. Let’s make our advance to the meeting site. We’ll set up about a hundred meters away. Watch out for patrolling Hoshigakure shinobi. Most of them are genin-rank equivalent, so they shouldn’t be able to detect us as long as we use the proper techniques,” he said, making sure his tricorner hat was fitted tightly. With that, he vanished into the grasses.
The standards of the Serene Kingdom flapped briskly in the breeze atop the pikes they were mounted on. Depicting a red and blue bear superimposed on the image of the Ursa Minor constellation on a white field, the flag was relatively new, conceived of in the aftermath of the War. Previously, both Bear and its northern neighbor, Marsh, had shared a singular flag – a red and white rising sun. It was an old, hated emblem from a time long past, and both countries were glad to be rid of it.
The air was choked with dust raised by the presence of a hundred dismounted troops of the Royal Guard, each man outfitted with a gilded cuirass on top of a dress uniform, and outfitted with a pike, pistol bolter, and side sword. Their horses stirred nearby, adding to the dusty atmosphere. King Haninozuka Nikolai IV stood at the head of the troop column, grimacing and trying to keep the particle from irritating his eyes and throat. An imposing man, he had a classically handsome square face lined with goatee and long, flowing hair. He was dressed in a flowing greatcoat entirely made of expensive mink fur, and underneath wore an expensive tunic of silk and brocade.
“Damn this noxious dust. I want this godrotting meeting done with as quickly as possible. And I need a bath,” said the man, scowling at the approaching party of Lightning Country nobility, also flanked by their own albeit smaller entourages.
? ? ?“My Lord, the speed of this meeting depends on you,” said a woman next to the King, earning a scowl from the man.
“Of course it does. I am after all, King. Very well, let’s see how greedy these worms are,” he said, sighing as he approached a table in the center of the meeting field.
The three Lightning Country nobles in question were there in the flesh, as confirmed by Masao’s spyglass. The Sennin knelt in the nearby grass behind a copse of shrubbery, gritting his teeth. It was hard to hear in the wind, but sound did get through.
“Ah, Your Majesty, always a pleasure to see you!” announced Count Tatsumi, giving the King a deep bow.
“Milord, we appreciate your presence,” said Viscount Katsura, also kneeling.
“We are ready to serve,” grunted Baron Tsujihara.
“On your feet,” said the King, clearly annoyed at the groveling. The Lightning Nobles quickly obliged, clearly relieved to be getting down to business. “I don’t have the time for pleasantries and I already have concubines at home to give me blowjobs. So I’ll just ask you this: How Much?”
The Lightning nobles’ eyes narrowed at the King’s brusqueness, before they realized that he was in fact a King.
“Five hundred million yen apiece, with the title of Marquess for each of us,” said Count Tatsumi, licking his lips in a show of unbridled greed. King Haninozuka rolled his eyes.
“No elevation in titles. You will keep the ones you have, and I will only give you a five hundred million total. You will have to work out who takes what,” said the King.
“Milord, that’s quite a stingy offer from someone supposedly so rich,” said Viscount Katsura, sneering. “I might as well continue sucking on Chancellor Ami’s teat!”
“Three hundred million yen apiece. That’s our offer, only made with the greatest of respect,” grunted Baron Tsujihara.
“One Hundred Fifty million each,” retorted the King, slamming his fists on the table.
Back at his observation spot, Masao shook his head.
“Well, Do-san, it certainly looks like treason to me, are you in agreement?” he asked the Spymaster. Turning to the mednins, he signaled to them. “Get ready.”
Border of Lightning and Bear Countries
…1500 hours
The field was like any other rolling sea of grass in the fertile foothills of Southern Lightning, where many population centers had risen over the centuries. Blessed with a temperate climate and adequate rainfall, the land was as good of a place to raise livestock as it was to farm, and thus highly desirable by any nation. The shinobi team was now on the extreme edge of Itou province, ruled by a Count Tatsumi, who was now suspected of selling his loyalty to the Kingdom next door for a sizeable amount. Of course, the land itself did not recognize the political boundaries drawn by men, nor who claimed ownership of its ancient soils, and thus went on existing as it always had. But to Masao, the illusory boundary between the two restive nations was actually quite important, and extremely relevant at this point.
The Sennin crouched in the grass, training his spyglass on a valley below where a plume of dust rose unnaturally from the otherwise undisturbed ground. What he saw through it made him frown, not so much because of what was disturbing the ground, but where the ground was being disturbed. He swore under his breath, handing the spyglass to his Spymaster.
“Bastards. The meeting’s going to be at least ten kilometers deep into Bear territory,” he growled to Do Natsu. “If something happens we’re definitely in breach of international law and we can’t claim we didn’t know we were intruding,” he said, shaking his head. He adjusted his headset to the correct frequency, connecting him with Takayama, the new ANBU Vice Commander, and a trusted friend. “Vice Commander, this is Takaki. What’s your status?”
A few seconds later, a voice came over the air.
“What’s your exfil plan?” asked Masao.
“Once the subjects are secured, we make a dash to tunnel X4-A5, and from there, to Raiden’s Eye,” said the Vice Commander, referencing one of the many transport tunnels through the hills that Cloud had bored during the Bear-Marsh War for quick access to the then-besieged Bear Country.
“Very good, Vice Commander. …Continue your advance and await my signal, then. Takaki over and out,” said Masao. He took a deep breath in. True to form, Takayama’s ANBU squad were even deeper than his own, and in fact were virtually on top of the meeting site already. That was business as usual for the Black Operatives, however. It made him proud that he was once a leader as well. Perhaps with Takayama’s expertise, the arrests and transports would go smoothly after all, and the services of the mednins would not be needed. That was the best possible scenario, after all. Masao turned to Natsu and the rest.
“Well, team, the ANBU squad is here ahead of time. If they can invade another country so smoothly, so can we. Let’s make our advance to the meeting site. We’ll set up about a hundred meters away. Watch out for patrolling Hoshigakure shinobi. Most of them are genin-rank equivalent, so they shouldn’t be able to detect us as long as we use the proper techniques,” he said, making sure his tricorner hat was fitted tightly. With that, he vanished into the grasses.
…1700 hours
The standards of the Serene Kingdom flapped briskly in the breeze atop the pikes they were mounted on. Depicting a red and blue bear superimposed on the image of the Ursa Minor constellation on a white field, the flag was relatively new, conceived of in the aftermath of the War. Previously, both Bear and its northern neighbor, Marsh, had shared a singular flag – a red and white rising sun. It was an old, hated emblem from a time long past, and both countries were glad to be rid of it.
The air was choked with dust raised by the presence of a hundred dismounted troops of the Royal Guard, each man outfitted with a gilded cuirass on top of a dress uniform, and outfitted with a pike, pistol bolter, and side sword. Their horses stirred nearby, adding to the dusty atmosphere. King Haninozuka Nikolai IV stood at the head of the troop column, grimacing and trying to keep the particle from irritating his eyes and throat. An imposing man, he had a classically handsome square face lined with goatee and long, flowing hair. He was dressed in a flowing greatcoat entirely made of expensive mink fur, and underneath wore an expensive tunic of silk and brocade.
? ? ?
“Of course it does. I am after all, King. Very well, let’s see how greedy these worms are,” he said, sighing as he approached a table in the center of the meeting field.
The three Lightning Country nobles in question were there in the flesh, as confirmed by Masao’s spyglass. The Sennin knelt in the nearby grass behind a copse of shrubbery, gritting his teeth. It was hard to hear in the wind, but sound did get through.
“Ah, Your Majesty, always a pleasure to see you!” announced Count Tatsumi, giving the King a deep bow.
“Milord, we appreciate your presence,” said Viscount Katsura, also kneeling.
“We are ready to serve,” grunted Baron Tsujihara.
“On your feet,” said the King, clearly annoyed at the groveling. The Lightning Nobles quickly obliged, clearly relieved to be getting down to business. “I don’t have the time for pleasantries and I already have concubines at home to give me blowjobs. So I’ll just ask you this: How Much?”
The Lightning nobles’ eyes narrowed at the King’s brusqueness, before they realized that he was in fact a King.
“Five hundred million yen apiece, with the title of Marquess for each of us,” said Count Tatsumi, licking his lips in a show of unbridled greed. King Haninozuka rolled his eyes.
“No elevation in titles. You will keep the ones you have, and I will only give you a five hundred million total. You will have to work out who takes what,” said the King.
“Milord, that’s quite a stingy offer from someone supposedly so rich,” said Viscount Katsura, sneering. “I might as well continue sucking on Chancellor Ami’s teat!”
“Three hundred million yen apiece. That’s our offer, only made with the greatest of respect,” grunted Baron Tsujihara.
“One Hundred Fifty million each,” retorted the King, slamming his fists on the table.
Back at his observation spot, Masao shook his head.
“Well, Do-san, it certainly looks like treason to me, are you in agreement?” he asked the Spymaster. Turning to the mednins, he signaled to them. “Get ready.”
