The five loyal Hatamotos, once the proud bannermen of the late Shogun, now stood amidst the ruins of their former lives. The vowing ceremony they had just performed bound them to a single purpose… vengeance. Their honor and loyalty to their fallen lord demanded nothing less. Only five of the original thirteen bannermen remained. The others had either been slain in the treacherous uprising or had bent their knees to the Daimyos who now ruled with stolen power. Their once-great clans had been extinguished, their troops scattered to the winds. Despite this devastation, the survivors resolved to vanish into obscurity, each assuming a new life to ensure the fruition of their plan. "I, Tadayori Shuhei, will take Ryuken-sama under my wing," declared the old samurai, his grizzled face resolute. "I will mold him into a fierce warrior until the time he reaches fifteen, someone who can fight for himself… and for the sake of others." he proclaimed. The others nodded in agreement, their determination unwavering. "Then the rest of us will go our separate ways," said Kyoraku, his tone solemn yet steady. "We must scatter across the lands, adopting lives that conceal our true nature. When the young lord is ready to learn from us, we will find a way to reunite." he affirmed in a stern tone. "No one must suspect who we are or what we once were. Disappear so thoroughly that not even a shadow remains of your past selves." spoke the one-armed odachi swordsman. "I will become a farmer," said one of the bannermen, his voice tinged with bitter irony. "Farmers are invisible to the powerful, and their lives offer the perfect cover among the peasants." "Then I will become a merchant," said another, his dignified bearing unshaken despite his rough armor. "Through trade, I can gather intelligence and build connections. It may take years, but I will establish myself as an indispensable asset when the time comes." he proposed in a quaint voice. The five samurai exchanged a final glance, their unspoken bond stronger than ever. They had nothing left but each other, their honor, and the young boy they now pledged to protect and nurture. Ryuken stood a short distance away, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of crimson and gold, casting long shadows over the desolate landscape. He said nothing, but the hardening resolve in his eyes spoke volumes. And as the sun dipped below the mountains, he clenched his fists. There were no more tears left to shed, no room for despair or agony. What remained was a boy stripped of his childhood, his heart steeled by loss and betrayal. He had no choice… but to walk the path of retribution. ****************** BLIP!! The scenario changed repeatedly as Ryuken's journey to seek vengeance began. In the secluded mountains, Ryuken began his formal training under Tadayori Shuhei, the first of his masters. Your next journey awaits at empire Shuhei had adopted the persona of a Hunter, earning a modest living while secretly sharpening Ryuken's skills in swordsmanship, archery, and survival skills as they resided in the mountains. The rugged terrain became Ryuken's classroom, and the hunter's cabin, his sanctuary. Under Shuhei's guidance, Ryuken grew into a disciplined warrior, mastering the basics of combat and the art of tracking prey. His body strengthened, and his mind and senses were honed. When Ryuken turned fifteen, Shuhei declared his training complete and sent him forth to learn from the other Hatamotos. This marked the beginning of Ryuken's pilgrimage, traveling across the fractured lands of his once-prosperous homeland. He had seen the plight of the commoners and the corruption of the Samurai under the new reign. It hadn't even been 10 years after his father's demise but the once flourishing country was now plagued with poverty and disorder. The rich became richer, indulging in the most deplorable avarice for wealth, desires, and chaos. The poor had their everything taken away from them in the name of taxes, forceful conscriptions, and the Daiymos claiming their belongings as the property of the state. Many people were dying from starvation every day than children were being born. Ryuken, who wandered among these masses with his many masters over the years, had developed a deep understanding of their miserable lives. Every injustice, every act of cruelty, etched itself into his soul, fueling his resolve. The years forged him into a weapon, but it was not just skill or strength that defined him. Ryuken had gained the understanding of what it truly meant to lead—not to rule over the people, but to protect and uplift them. Although his blood boiled from rage and he wanted to do nothing but rip out the heads of those traitors… he had no choice but to bide for time. "They will be expecting us." spoke Kyoraku, his present master. "So what? It is inevitable anyway." replied Ryuken, his eyes full of fervor. Thwack!! However, Kyoraku slapped Ryuken's head instantly. "Our goal is to gain the acknowledgment of the Divine Spirits, not to declare a war. Follow me without making a scene and no one will know when we entered the sacred lands of those spirits and when we left. But I can only show you the path. Gaining their acknowledgment… that's left to your character and your willpower." said Kyoraku, who was now in his middle 40s. "I'm aware. And I'm prepared to do whatever is necessary." spoke Ryuken with an unwavering resolve in his eyes. BLIP!! Soon, the time fast-forward with Ryuken aging while training under new masters. With each journey completed, he fought and gained the acknowledgment of the 5 Divine Spirits. Meanwhile, he also made friends who had similar stories as him or wanted to fight the oppression. In recent years, the country also went through a Civil War because the Daiymos wanted to expand their influence over each other and wanted to become the undisputed Shogun themselves. The entire country had become nothing but a battlefield with pools of blood. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮 Armies fighting each other, bandits attacking small villages and travelers, killing and pillaging for survival among the commoners, and even r*ping young women had become common. Ryuken and his band of brothers were itching to cause an uprising but they had no strength, influence, money, and resources to unite the masses and arm them against the tyranny of these local lords. Along with the meddling from the foreign forces, the country was going through its worst years in its entire history. And like that… many years had passed. BLIP!! Now, the scene turned into that of a battlefield. It had been 25 long years since that dreadful night—the night Ryuken lost everything and was thrust into a world of suffering, survival, and relentless pursuit of vengeance. He was no longer the grieving boy who stood helplessly under the weight of tragedy. The current Ryuken was a man forged in fire, tempered by pain, and sharpened by the wisdom of time. Recently, he had forged contracts with two Demonic Spirits through unpredictable and perilous encounters, their immense power now a part of his growing arsenal. But the most significant difference was not his power; it was the army he now commanded. Over the years, with the help of his masters and the camaraderie of allies he had bonded with during his decades-long journey, Ryuken had evolved into a figure to be feared and respected. His name was whispered in both reverence and dread across the fractured lands. The boy who had once sought refuge in the shadows now stood as the leader of a revolution—a force that promised to bring a reckoning to his enemies. What had begun as a small rebellion group of desperate and scattered individuals had grown into a well-organized and disciplined army. Each soldier, whether a former peasant, disgraced samurai, or warrior wronged by the Daimyos, carried a fire of vengeance in their hearts. Thud! Rumble! Together, they marched under one banner, their purpose unyielding: to bring justice to those who had wronged them and to restore honor to their shattered homeland. And thanks to his enemies being at war with themselves all over these years, he also had the advantage of taking them down one by one. "I believe it's time we start our revenge." said Ryuken. Cling! Clank! Rustle! His words ignited a fire in the hearts of all who followed him. Cheers erupted, a deafening roar of unity and defiance against the tyrants who had ruled for too long. The people had suffered enough. This was not just a war for vengeance... it was a war for liberation, for justice, for the soul of the country itself. His masters stood tall beside him, their weapons ready and their expressions unflinching. They were no longer just mentors... they were comrades, each prepared to lay down their lives to see their oath fulfilled. His friends who shared his dream, stood resolutely by his side, ready to march to their deaths if need to. The revolutionaries behind them raised their weapons in unison, the sound of steel cutting through the air a promise of what was to come. The battlefield crackled with tension, the promise of a storm that would sweep away the old and make way for the new. On the opposite side of the plains, stood the army of the first Daiymo he had decided to take down. As the sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the land into the twilight of destiny, Ryuken unsheathed his katana as he beckoned his army of men. "This is where we hold them! This is where we fight! This is where they die!" his declaration echoed in the entire battlefield, reaching even the enemy camps. "Remember this day, men!..." he bellowed in a kingly voice. This was it. The final chapter of a story written in blood, sweat, and tears as Ryuken's domineering voice echoed into the battlefield… "For it will be yours for all time."