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"No, Nobunaga. It was you that deceived yourself," Gengyo stated, tying the stump of his arm in a lace to stem the flow of blood, showing no hint of the pain that he felt. "You knew from the start that standing against me was not an option. You fooled yourself and now you will pay the price."

"Get back, my Lord!" The second of the trio forced his way in front of his Lord in an attempt at protecting him, holding his sword steady. "He has only one arm! He’s bluffing! We will still see them to their graves!"

And then his throat was sliced clean through and he fell to the floor, his face a mask of confusion. He moved his lips, but no words came out. He demanded his legs to step forward, but they gave way beneath him, and he trembled on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

"Wrong again," Gengyo said, as he flicked the blood from his blade. "I would not give away my own arm if I wasn’t certain I could still carve my way to freedom. Men, on me, we have a traitor to cut down."

"ORRAH!" They pushed out with their weapons, sending the swarm of enemies that had piled against them flying. Morohira covered them in hundreds of slashes and Akiko ran several men through with her naginata, tears running down her cheeks, as she bore witness to her husband’s injury.

Jikouji clenched in teeth in a fierce scarl, cutting and cutting, until there was nothing more in front of him to attack. The men were enraged, seeing the injury of their commander and they fought stronger for it. The heat of the flames boiled against their backs and they stood uncontested at the top of those stairs, having carved the space away from the enemy.

No longer did the Oda men advance with the same sureness. Their Lord screamed orders and pointed furiously, picking up a spear himself, threatening to charge in alone, but there was no inspiring them. The stairs forced them together too tightly and the wall in front of them was too hard to overcome.

Like a grim reaper, Gengyo stood, his blade hanging from his single hand, and he pointed it towards Oda, announcing his death. Flaming arrows were loosed against them, but they were brushed aside with contempt.

"Your hand, Miura..." Jikouji muttered desperately, in their moment of respite, pointing at it sullenly. "We have failed you. We allowed the greatest warrior Mikawa has ever seen be tarnished by the likes of a turncoat samurai."

"I did what I had to do, Jikouji. There were other ways to defeat him, but they would have taken too long and left me too exhausted. That is my weakness, not yours. A loss of a hand means nothing, as long as we all still draw breath. I will learn to fight without it and I will become stronger than I ever was. On Oda’s death, I do so swear," Gengyo said, patting Akiko gently on the head to reassure her and her saddened eyes. "But for now, it’s time for our hunt."

Gengyo leapt from the top of the steps, skipping several at a time, dodging the points of spears that came his way, and stabbing where appropriate. His men flitted out after him, dancing through rows of terrified enemies.

Oda saw his death coming. It was only then that he tried to flee. The heads of the two Lord’s turned and they both saw the horses waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Oda made his decision and began to run towards them, discarding his spear, as Gengyo chased.

"FIRE!" Oda ordered, swinging his arm down urgently.

"But my Lord... Those are our men in there," the captain of the archers replied, hesitant to loose his string.

"FIRE! FIRE OR I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD!" He screamed, pushing past them, diving onto the back of a horse and latching onto its reigns.

The men loosened their arrows on the enemy, only to find one of them missing.

Oda turned his neck in the saddle, sweat dripping into his eyes, his heart beating erratically, fuelled by disappointment and regret. "Damn it," he cursed to himself.

And then the legs of his went out beneath him, and the creature crashed to the floor at full speed, throwing dirt up into his face. He’s here, Oda realized as the fear began to course through his veins and he desperately struggled to his feet, drawing his sword.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" He demanded, turning this way and that, searching the shadows.

A sword ran through his chest and a red flower blossomed upon his armour. He saw that reddened steel peaking out below his chin and his eyes widened. "How..?" Was the only word that left his lips.

"Rest well," Gengyo said softly, as he gently lowered his body to the floor. "I have enjoyed this game, Oda Nobunaga," he said and he meant every word of it. With his men behind him, he could finally admit that. "We are not too dissimilar you and I. In there, I suppose, lay our problem."

Oda moved his lips, attempting to reply, but the blood had already left him and his consciousness was fading. He grasped hold of Gengyo’s shoulder with his fingers, squeezing mightily, and then he died.