The Castle of the Swift Sword was a flurry of activity. To the untrained eye, it might seem no more hectic than an average day of training and exercises. To a true soldier, however, the purpose of such frantic activity was obvious: the Lion were preparing for war.

Akodo Natsu stood at the castle gates, observing the legion that would soon serve under his command. He had inherited the command after the legion he originally served was decimated during the War of the Rich Frog. His commanding officer, his uncle, had died during that war, and Natsu had never known such pride as the day he had been awarded his uncle’s command. Now he would prove himself in battle, and honor his ancestors in the way that only the Lion could.

A scout approached, riding from the south. The man had clearly been long in the saddle, and was covered in the dust from the road. Natsu frowned, curious as to what could be so important. The man pulled his horse to a stop and bowed low from the saddle, a difficult thing to do. “Taisa Natsu-sama,” the scout said, gasping for breath, “I have a report from the southern provinces.”

“Report,” he said at once.

“The situation with the peasant uprising has been contained,” the scout reported. “The seventh Ikoma legion has taken up residence within the village where the reports first arose, but there have been no signs of any insurrection among the populace there. It is believed that the parties responsible have fled the area, possibly toward the north.”

“Responsible parties?” Natsu demanded. “Who?”

“Unknown, my lord,” the scout replied. “It is believed a pair of ronin incited the rebellion, then fled to avoid Lion justice. They are reported to have fled north.”

“North,” Natsu said, a smile flickering across his features. “They have returned north to the Dragon, who fomented their attempt at rebellion in order to bring further disorder to the Lion.” He rubbed his chin for a moment, then turned to the scout. “Take one day of rest, then proceed north. Bypass the Dragonfly lands and proceed directly to the Kitsuki provinces. When you arrive, demand that the Dragon turn over the ronin and answer to our claim of insurrection.”

“Sir?” The scout seemed confused. “They will only deny such claims and turn me away.”

“Exactly,” Natsu said, his smile broadening.

Ikoma Otemi laced his do-maru carefully. The armor was of splendid quality, and exquisitely constructed, but it would not avail him at all if he were not diligent in its maintenance and its proper preparation. Once it was finished, he placed his blades in his obi and retrieved his helm. When it was atop his head, then he finally looked the part of a Champion of the Lion.

“Most Champions have servants who care for their armor,” Ikoma Yasuko said with a wry smile. “I feel quite certain we could find some to aid you with yours.”

Otemi glanced at his wife with a curious expression. “Most Champions are not Lion,” he said flatly. “A warrior prepares his own armor and weapons, or he has only himself to blame if it fails him.”

Yasuko smiled warmly. “Well said, my husband.” She was quiet for a moment as her smile faded, replaced with a concerned expression. “Why are you doing this?” she asked after a few moments.

“You know why,” he said simply. “The Lion must fight, we must regain what we have lost.”

“I know the reasons you have given,” she replied, “but they do little to satisfy a wife who fears for her husband’s life. This is reckless, Otemi. This is not like you.”

“The Lion need a hero,” Otemi said. “They need a leader who will inspire them as Nimuro once did.”

“They do not need a reckless warmonger,” Yasuko said. She blushed at the words, perhaps growing a bit more heated than she intended.

“If I die, it matters little,” Otemi said. “What matters is that the Empire learn to respect the Lion once more. The Khan has dulled our blades. We must sharpen them once more.”

“Even if the cost is measured in Dragon lives?” Yasuko asked softly.

Otemi looked away.