“… and that the carvings on each of the bridges or pathways were believed to either be some myth or legend to them or be from some great event that occurred where it is located. It could also be a case of each being in an area that properly represented the stories on them.” Lord Yasu now wore clothes similar to a common worker as he whispered to me hurriedly.

He is doing much better with me showing an interest in his fascination with the ancient people who left the relics behind. Gaman, on the other hand… I can hear his teeth grinding, and I am rather certain he has been eyeing a jar of sake for the past hour.

A flash and a boom could be seen in the distance as a bolt of lightning impacted a mountain with rain just pouring down in buckets on us. I was near the center of the caravan with Yasu, who was disguised as a worker. His hair, much to his chagrin, had to be cut back, and a cream was applied to him that made his skin tone just a little lighter. Helped that it was also hard to take off even with the metric ton of rain coming down on top of us.

With a decoy placed in the carriage, who is currently further up the caravan from us but not completely at the front. All precautions, as Gaman had put it, now would be the time for the Land of Waves forces to attack us. The element they are well known for is surrounding us and its partners in crime almost sweeping several people down the mountain, thankfully, no one was lost. The rest of the caravan had enough sense to grab them before they would meet a grisly end. The storm was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I have endured two F5 tornadoes and the associated rain that comes with them. The rain pouring down puts that to shame.

The wind was powerful and, combined with the running streams coming down from above, made for a dangerous and perilous journey. Staying close to Yasu, who, despite the danger of the situation or how loud the torrent of rain howls from the wind or the cannon fire of the lightning striking every now and again, talked his heart out to me about the ancient people.

And I asked the occasional question and showed my own interest in them. Like the bolts of lightning striking the tops of mountains more than anything else besides the occasional strike below them.

“You noticed, did you? The bolts are striking some rods at the top of the mountains the ancients had left behind.” He said with a knowing look on his face.

Looking back up I could just barely see the silhouettes of the thin rods atop several nearby mountains.

“Like the paths and bridges, we don’t know what they are made of…” He trailed off this time, looking like he wanted to say something but didn't.

“We are nearing the checkpoint. Just a little further and we can rest!” Gaman's voice cut through the wind and rain.

The caravan, with renewed energy, trudged on, pushing through the elements that tried to stop them as the animals pushed through it at the urging of their drivers.

Pushing on, we slowly made it to a group of men dressed similarly to the group that Gaman had signaled down when we got attacked. They have large angular rocks jutting out of the mountain and shaped so the rain would go around and over them instead of onto the path.

As we got closer, one of the guards moved forward and said something that was lost to the storm before the worker nodded. Hearing the sound of stone shifting and moving, I looked out of the corner of my eye to see the walls of rock move forward overhead, preventing the rain from slowing us down.

We all shifted forward until we were at the checkpoint.

“I would recommend you stay here until the storm has lessened. I am already dreading the damage we are going to have to fix after this one…” Said one of the workers, with his two compatriots nodding their heads in agreement, each wearing a grimace.

I couldn’t blame them. With the way this storm is, they were going to have their work cut out for them.

One of the workers stepped out into the rain while the rest of us began trying to dry off and rest.

“Gaman, how long will this storm last?”

The man in question turned. “Hard to say. With how big it is, it could last several hours. On some occasions a storm could last days. Doesn’t happen very often, and this thankfully is not such a storm.” He made me realize that the Land of Lightning wasn’t just called that for nothing.

Though I didn’t expect the rain to be this bad. “First time experiencing the hospitality of our country's weather?”

“Yeah…” I said, trailing off now, not liking this.

“Trust me when I say this is average. When I was younger and in a skirmish with the Land of Fires samurai, a storm had ravaged both sides enough to force us all to retreat.”

“Really?” That got my interest. I always enjoyed a good war story.

“Oh yes! It was a magnificent battle as we clashed against them. It was back during what the monks called the War of the Righteous. But to us samurai it was simply a war.”

“Got any good stories from the war?”

Gamans' smile looked like Christmas just came early for him as he recounted some tales of his youth as the others tried to dry off, huddling together for warmth while listening with interest to the stories being told by Gaman. Or at least they tried to since the thunder and rain with the wind howling made that rather difficult.

“It was in the battle between the Stone and Fire. I was at the mercy of the fire samurai as he hefted his blade high into the air as I raised my arms to try and block it as a last resort, and just as his sword was about to cut me down, a blade came out of his chest from behind, and he turned around before falling forward.”

“Who saved you, Gaman-Dono?” One of the workers around us asked with awe as he looked enthralled with the story.

The look on Gaman’s face was far off, as if he were looking back to the past, reliving that memory he is recounting now. “It was none other than the stone samurai, who I had gotten into a fistfight with a week prior. As the enemy samurai fell down, I saw his body was riddled with arrows and shuriken as he helped me up, and we cut down anyone foolish enough to attack us as we tried to navigate the chaos of the battle.”

“Why did he save you?” Another worker asked.

Gaman looked up and out into the stormy clouds as if he himself didn’t have an answer. “After we made it back and the battle had ended, he told me out of all the people he had met in life, I was one of the few who were willing to stand up to him. To tell him my own thoughts on a matter and not lie to him like everyone else did to try and curry favor from him. He still didn’t like me since in his own words there was no way I could ever hope to beat him.” He said with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“But he did respect me enough to save me, and we agreed we would have a rematch in the future when we met again. That never happened because he died not long after that against a monk.”

With what he just said, the camp fell silent at the revelation of the man saving him, dying from the wounds of the battle. That is until my voice broke the silence.

“Death comes for us all in the end, old or young, rich or poor. It doesn’t matter to death, for we all will one day meet it, for we are all equal in its eyes. What does matter is how we go to greet death when it comes.” I said gently, speaking from the heart.

It was something I had thought about for some time -- should I perish before the clock could run out on the headband.

All eyes turned to look at me. Gaman’s scrutinizing gaze was boring holes into me, and finding whatever it was he was looking for, he nodded his head with a small smile. The others looked dour after what I had said, and I normally would have avoided saying something like that. But after witnessing so many people die right in front of my eyes, my mind had begun to drift to darker thoughts.

Despite all my personal power, I couldn’t save them. All that power, yet I am still weak.

“Now that I think we can all agree on. Nothing besides death can make all equal in the end.” At that statement from Gaman, the camp falls into silence beyond the constant rain and lightning strikes.

The men upholding the earth walls and barricades swapped out every now and then. Two hours go by, but eventually something got my attention.

“The two of them should have been back by now.” One of the men employed by the Lightning Daimyo said to Gaman, who looked serious about the situation.

I listened as the man explained they send men out to make sure the pathways ahead aren't obstructed and to communicate with the others on nearby mountains to exchange information and have an idea of how much damage has been done by any storms and how much needs to be fixed.

It’s mostly being used as a way to get information, like how far off the reinforcements are, which that part was spoken so quietly I couldn’t even hear it. Gaman himself doesn’t show any outward sign from what he was being told, so it could be good or bad. Have to give the man this -- he has a good poker face.

Though the workers' next words gave me pause. “Haven’t heard from the other two sent out, and they should have been back some time ago.”

“So I have noticed.” Gaman said to him with a face made of stone. I tensed up before relaxing slightly. “Be ready for the Land of Waves to make a move, for they will not just let us leave when we are stuck here. If it comes down to it, we must leave.”

“B-but that would be suicide. I don’t have enough chakra to reshape the entire pathway while keeping the storm from washing us away with the downpour. Never mind, using that much chakra would increase the odds of the lightning being drawn to our position.”

Gaman got into the man's personal space as he stared down at him, being several inches taller than the man, looking like an imposing sight. The man swallowed whatever he was about to say and gulped, staring up at Gaman's eyes.

“Just as it would be suicide to stay here when we would be overrun with those who are hunting us.” He said to the worker, staring down at him. The man broke out in a cold sweat.

I could even feel the tension from where I trained mentally with Kojirou to pass the time and try to do anything to focus on rather than just feel my fear and paranoia at getting attacked where we all rested.

After a long tense moment of staring down the worker, Gaman turned away from him, moving further into the camp. “Kojirou, come with me!”

Looking up just when I got my arm and legs cut off by Kojirou and soon followed Gaman. “What are we doing?”

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye before looking ahead. “We cannot stay here. Gather up what you can, and we will be leaving with Lord Yasu.” He said quietly so I would be the only one to hear him.

“What of the rest of the caravan and the workers?” I asked with a neutral tone, but Gaman picked up on my hesitation.

“Kojirou, they will slow us down, and if anything, they have a higher chance of surviving if we simply leave. If not, they will buy us time.” At his words I opened my mouth to argue, but he placed his hands on my shoulders gently but firmly. The stern look on his face showed how serious he was.

“Once upon a time I would understand your dislike for not only fleeing like bandits in the night but also for abandoning people you had fought and killed for. But I have a duty to my Lord, and just like you, the rest of these men have in their own way acknowledged that they may die far from their families and loved ones. We cannot save them. You are the only capable warrior amongst these people that I would trust at Lord Yasu’s side and to have my back. Don’t needlessly throw this lifeline away…”

He swiftly let go of me, heading in the direction Lord Yasu was doing simple, less physically demanding tasks compared to the other workers. Clenching and unclenching my hands, I stood there like a statue as my emotions raged inside of me.

A moment's contemplation had me come to the cold reality of things.

Gaman is not wrong. I will grudgingly admit this. The caravan, even with the losses, allowed us to move far faster but still took too long. But I can’t leave these people to die. I… but I can’t save them. Not all of them.

I turned back while glancing towards where Gaman had gone off to and looking the other way towards the others. Even if I can’t save them, the least I could do is warn most of them what is happening. A stupid idea, but it would give them a chance.

I hurried towards the gathering of men of the caravan, with a few guards still alive. I paused, noting the increase in rainwater at my feet. Before it was mostly dry with the earth wall keeping it away and corralling it away from us. But this is at least several inches, and it’s coming from further up the path…

My eyes widened in horror as I felt the ground subtly shake as I rushed ahead. “Get out of the way! We are under attack!” I yelled out as everyone stopped and looked at me wide-eyed, then looked further ahead in the direction I was staring at as the bowls and pots rattled and the animals grunted and shifted nervously, looking ready to bolt.

Running ahead and shoving my way past the workers who were huddling together with several pots or cutting knives ready to be used as weapons. The worker who spoke with Gaman hesitantly followed me. Rushing forward to the path that would have taken us further up the mountain as the rumbling and shaking got worse and what sounded like the roar of raging water greeted us.

“Walls. Make as many walls as you can!”

The worker looked confused at my order. “What? Is this not enough?”

My grip tightened before I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him close. “Make a wall now!”

Roughly shoving him forward, I took out my sword, and my broken blade grew into a great sword that wouldn’t look out of place in Dark Souls, save for its more eastern appearance.

The worker's mind finally catching up with what I am telling him to do goes through a series of hand signs. The last finger falling finalized the jutsu, and the mountain shifted as numerous several-foot-thick walls began to rise like a stack of dominoes further up the path into the darkness.

For a brief moment the darkness was illuminated by lightning in the distance as the rumbling grew worse and worse. The pebbles and rocks were like jumping beans, and the worker looked down and redoubled his efforts, with a strike of lightning in the distance showing the droplets of a torrent of water crashing into one of the walls that was half formed and shattering it.

Dread gripped my heart when each of the walls crumbled before the power of a raging river coming down the mountain. I stepped in front of the worker when we both witnessed the rock and walls being swiftly overwhelmed by the growing tide rushing to meet us.

Hefting my blade up, and with a flex of ki, I swung. The sword held overhead was brought down, and with it, a trail of devastation rushed out from that simple act. It raced forth to meet the tide.

The wind met the tide head on, and fear ate away at my heart before fading away when the wind broke through the water with the rocks from the walls mixed in, with the vast majority being pushed back and the remnants falling over the edge of the mountain. The wind's roar continued on despite the seemingly endless raging river coming for us.

Readying another swing and repeating the attack when the water came rushing at us once again after the wind scar had broken through to the other side, but the water was merely pushed back with another tide coming right for us.

With another wind scar hitting it, the worker without any further prompting made more walls this time far more numerous and much bigger.

Unlike before, the water crashing into the walls only managed to crack the first one, but it held longer, eventually breaking apart before hitting the second, and it lasted even longer. Seeing the water falling over the edge of the mountain, failing to break completely through each wall relief, filled both of us.

The worker was spent, if his deep, heavy breathing was any sign. I turned around to give some orders to the terrified workers before halting and having a bad feeling. My gaze was torn from their terrified expressions to look back at the walls. They were slowly getting eaten away by the water before all hell broke loose.

The stone ceiling above us didn’t give any warning, and I was only saved by my reflexes and speed, grabbing the surprised worker when the tremors and vibrations grew in strength by a not so insignificant amount, and that’s what tipped me off.

The rock and earth it was made from broke apart like it was nothing. What could only be described as a biblical flood just dropped right on top of us and the camp site. I leaped closer and over the newly made walls and could only watch on in horror as time slowed down for me.

I could see every emotion on each of the caravan workers’ faces along with the few guards left. Anger, sadness, resignation, fear, and especially panic. My urging for any of them to run or do anything goes unheard as the roar of the water and stone breaking apart. The water from the heavens above met them, and I looked each of them in the eye, hoping that they would be spared.

That hope died when they were struck by the oncoming tide from above. The rocks and stone smashed and crushed the poor souls before me, and the rushing water swept what was left of them and those that still yet lived, the carriages, and even the animals, who cried out in protest alongside the horrified screams of the men before us. Their screams were soon silenced when the water choked and submerged them before they plummeted over the edge.

Despite wanting to help them, I knew deep down it was too late. I grudgingly moved further up the mountain wall, going for a section that is out of the way of the water.

The worker was in shock as he remained silent, only making it up the wall because I dragged him with me. The water just kept coming down with no end in sight. I looked further up to find its source as flashes of lightning showed several figures further up the mountain.

But of all the figures that drew my angry gaze, the one that took all of my attention was a man wearing black pants, a Mist ninja flak jacket, and short spiky brown hair. But what told me he was was the oversized sword on his back. For a brief moment the guy's face looked like a demon before it disappeared as if it were a figment of my imagination.