Napo River Fort (West)

Everything was falling to pieces in mere moments, more so as they became minutes. Being anywhere near the gates was foolhardy, and both would opt to charge in a likely one and final attempt to take down this shogun. It was a dual effort of thrusting their weapons forward and looking to strike and impale between the armor - through the leather padding about the chest and arms.

The numbers that came spilling over the walls turned the execution into a battle as more came down. Some were armed and aggressive and ready, swinging swords and clubs and daggers to fend off those looking to strike them down in their escape. The ones over the eastern wall had only paces to go before finding the rushing river and then risked wading and swimming in desperation for their lives - finding only to their horror that they were in ambush here, too.

However one individual came crashing over the northern wall and sought to take down a small handful of opposing soldiers beneath his heavy body. Despite having little armor to protect his hide, he was a massive man close up. Towering almost seven feet in height and weighing like an ox, he would fall upon his back and crush three men to the ground alone - also with the added weight of his tetsubo club held to his chest. He came up onto his feet like a lumbering bull rising to its hooves, and turned with a menacing gaze that threatened any that came after him.

He shoved two of his own fighting men out of his way, and rammed their opponent to the ground with a heavy thrust of his shoulder. The samurai unfortunate enough to be caught would hit the ground with the air forced from his lungs. And the last thing he would see was the vicious sneer of the beastly man as he hoisted the stone and steel weapon high overhead and brought it down to crush his skull. But he wasn't done... no, he stomped his way around the burning corner of his falling fort to find the fool Shogun that did this.

The nearest bandit would find his throat slashed before he had a chance to pace back or recover - his pike offering the perfect guidance to his vulnerable neck. The skin broke and the windpipe split, and his life spilled in crimson as his hands desperately went to his throat to try and stifle death - to no avail. He died before he hit the ground, and his partner had barely managed to evade the weapon strictly due to his friend having been the one between he and the Haitaka. Terror gripped him as he watched his comrade drop in a fountain of his own blood, and he knew his own death was imminent. Fear and realization paralyzed him.

The fort commander stomped around the wall of fire that consumed the fort - an Oni made man in size and brutality. On the ground, it was clear why he was leader. He was a monster of a man, and wielded an ungodly sized tetsubo club like something from a scroll of lore in the hands of a demon. His armor was quite possibly stripped and stolen from a warrior, protecting more of his thick legs and plates across his shoulders and atop his arms. Yet his torso was mostly bare save the leather to bind his upper armor into place to his lower armor. His back was mostly exposed, too - and he was carved with muscle and scars.

His cold eyes locked on the armored man, the one responsible for sending his fort up in flames, and bared his teeth in a vicious sneer once again. He began his stomping march towards Takehiko, club hoisted up on his shoulder.

The beastly man seemed unfazed at seeing two of his men drop in bloody death. In fact, he seemed to grin.

"I know. They are. But they were good for work, if nothing else. But this isn't where I die, Azamuku. This is where I spill your life into the river, and take your head to Chi no Tora - before we run your little city into the ground. Wanryoku will be known as the Killer of the Deceiver!"

The vagabonds were dropping one by one like flies, and the number flinging over the walls were thinning as the fires grew. There was little to save them from slaughter, on the north wall or the river on the eastern side.

The mention of an animal made the monster of a man huff like a bull, and picked up his pace - moving from a walk to a trot to a full run and bringing the massive weapon up and over to crush down upon Haitaka with all his might. His intention was nothing short of complete annihilation of this man, bones and all ground into the dirt - all very real and clear as the tetsubo came into swing with a might roar of the wielder.

The monstrous weapon slammed to the earth, having just missed it's target and destroying the once lush earth beneath the head of the club - sending dirt and grass flying with the force. The man had only a moment to turn his attention and watch as that sword reared up high and aimed between the plates, and slice right through flesh and muscle and bone. The severe was swift, followed by the spray of blood to shower them both, and then brought up by the blinding pain afterwards.

The bellow that came from Wanryoku was a cross of absolute rage and searing pain and utter disbelief. His arm fell limply on the earth with nothing more than splurts of blood. His remaining hand faltered, hovering over the stump as it bled out heavily - unable to process what to do. No man or animal was prepared for something like this.

However, the shock would fade into utmost rage. A murderous rage. Wild eyes would settle on the Haitaka a moment later and if he hadn't acted - he would find the tetsubo being lifted with that one remaining hand in a wide swing to send the man sprawling across the ground with mangled armor.

The dance was beyond infuriating, and again his weapon hit nothing but air. As soon as he came about his knee was struck with the same slicing pain, and the giant was brought down to one knee with his hand clenching the tetsubo as it became an upright for him to hold himself up with. His leg refused to respond and throbbed in blinding pain as he bled from the deep slice - at least there was a grace to let him keep his leg. But his sight was turning red as the red seeped from his body, and his energy with it. An attempt to rise failed as he simply swayed in a struggle to remain upright.

The slice was met with another howl. Despite the pain it caused, he was left with no power and no muscle to remain up on his knees - his heavy body flopping down to sit upon them now and his stump of an arm swaying pitifully at his side. The muscles in his right arm strained noticeably to keep his body somewhat upright and the weapon from falling over. His chest heaved with heavy breathing that was a growl with each one. His eyes were growing heavy as the rest of him. His heart was pounding in his ears.

Just as the last of his men were falling, it seemed he, too, was going to fall.

What a display for anyone to see, especially any Fusei looking to head this way ever again. The fort reduced to fired rubble and the massive leader impaled upon a pike at the gates.

Those few remaining that were struggling to fight ceased as the man roared, and seeing the severed arm of their commander in his hand. Several were frozen in terror, and some were merely frantic and couldn't believe what was being told. Their leader of the fort... slain, and his arm as a trophy...

They dropped their weapons and lifted their hands in surrender. There was nothing more here, and soon the fires were going to consume this wall, too. The reality that death was certain was sinking in... and it was a horrible, cold feeling...

Nori appeared beside his lord, a clean cut across the bridge of his nose and up over his left brow that painted his face and mask red - but his expression was still relatively chipper in his eyes. His gaze shifted over those present as the archers were dismissed to a task.

"Well, that was fun. You killed the big guy?" he asked with a snicker. "Never quite understood being all big like that - just makes you a huge target, and hit harder when you fall." He shrugged and resumed rambling to himself.