A Time Traveller's Guide to Feudal Japan Chapter 71 - The Final Training Session

They had set up their training camp a mile and a half outside of village. In it was virtually everything they needed. There were ten static archery targets, ten oscillating archery targets, and rows of straw dummies for practice in hand to hand combat.

Lines were drawn indicating the various shooting ranges.

"FIRE!"

He called out, and twenty men released their arrows, and twenty arrows punctured their targets on both the oscillating ones and the static ones. The range was 75 paces, and such accuracy could be judged to be good. But that was far from the case for their commander.

The rest of the men cycled through their shots, only one man missing at that range. And then they moved to the 150-pace range. Even for Gengyo, at first, this had proved to be challenging.

"FIRE!"

But now, as the arrows landed, there were very few that missed. After each man took his shot, the accuracy could be judged to be above 90%. It was far under what he hoped for them to achieve, but in the time period they had, he judged it to be passable.

"TRANSITION TO PIKE FORMATION!"

He barked, as they stood in a flat line, each holding their bows, with their long yari at their feet.

"YAH!"

They let out a collective cry as they uniformly cast aside their bows, and assumed a ready position with their long yari in hands.

He nodded with approval. A mere few days prior, such an order had caused chaos, with each man out of step with the other. Now was a great improvement, and it was far faster. With the placement of their yari at their feet during bow formation, they were able to switch between the two weapons fluidly, and with precision.

It was an idea that he had gleaned from reading one of the old scrolls that Nakatane had delivered to him, but he had developed it further. A truly adaptive unit that could tackle any opponent. With their accuracy, they would crush the enemy from a distance, and with their strength, they would tear him apart should he come closer.

"YARI WALL!"

He called to them to assume a defensive position, in which their pikes extended outwards, ready to crush any cavalry or foot units that would dare to charge toward their sharpened steel points. It was simple, but effective.

"YAH!"

They readied themselves within a fraction of a second, calling out boldly as they did so. Their faces were firm, and their stances were tense. Their feet were locked solidly into the floor. It would be difficult to move them.

'Good.'

He thought as he evaluated them. But this was the bare minimum he expected.

"BREAK THE ENEMY LINE!"

He cast his arm downwards, signalling for them to charge, and with a roar, they began forwards at a good speed. Their pace was not terrifying fast, but it could not be. What mattered was that they ran in time with one another, so they hit the enemy line as one.

They did as was expected of them, holding their heavy yari straight and with stability as they ran forward. The army of straw dummies were obliterated, each receiving a spear through their chest.

Once they broke the line with their spears, they cast them aside and drew their swords. It was as they were trained to do, and they executed it perfectly. He could not fault them in the least. Most soldiers would hold onto their yari, even when at close range. But such weapons were unwieldy, and only good until the gap had been breached. Once they were at close range, a sword unit would tear a yari unit to pieces.

The straw soldiers were left ravaged, with pieces lying everywhere as the men merciless cut apart their straw bodies.

Gengyo clapped loudly.

"Very good."

The men were of the same opinion.

"YEAH!!! WE DID IT!"

Rokkaku roared, immensely satisfied. It was a procedure that they had spent many days perfecting, and each time at the end their leader would shake his head and speak the dreaded words: "not good enough." They were words that built up a good deal of frustration, and now, on this final day, they had finally mastered the tactics that he had masterminded.

In their completed form, each man was well aware of the strength. The fluidity of their changes was terrifying, and their arsenal was at least three times larger than that of another unit. They had many more cards to play, and they were able to play them effectively.

Another commander might look upon Gengyo's ill-treatment of the weapons with distaste, saying that they should not be treated so harshly, or cast aside at all, for they were worth a good amount of coin. But it was not a sentiment the young man shared. The value was in the man himself. Once the battle began, it did not matter where his weapons were broken or ruined by the end, all that mattered was victory.

But there was a reason why there were not more units like their Special Forces unit - ones that were able to fight with three different weapons depending on what situation they were presented with. And that reason was simple: the burden of carrying such equipment was too immense.

That was why the pikes were left at their feet, and the bows were cast away once they switched to another weapon. It was too impractical to do anything else.

"Alright fellas, prepare for the final test."

A collective groan went around as they knew what was up ahead. Each man collected his yari, and they collected their bows. They also each fetched a tunic that was weighed down to simulate the approximate weight of their armour.

All in all, it was a rather heavy affair, especially when you were facing the distance that they were.

There was no need for any words or introductions, and once everyone had their equipment on - Gengyo included - he lead them at a run away from their camp.

They ran through the forest, and up over many hills along the forested path, holding their bow in one hand, and their pike in the other. It was an acquired skill holding the spear point so that it did not bounce off the ground, but one that they had learned quickly.

This training run had been done by them every day, and every day the distance was the same: 9 miles. It was the most important attribute of their unit that everything else hinged upon: endurance.

On the first day, they had run the distance with a series of breaks, 3 in total. It would have been too much to ask them to run the entire thing straight away.

It must be understood that this run was different from the 30 mile march that they had endured in coming home. In that march, it was a mixture of both running and walking, allowing the different muscles required for each to relax as they performed the other. And also, during that, they had not been carrying such a weight.

Today was the first day where they had faced the 9 mile run without the prospect of a single break, and each man began it with a deal of apprehension, unsure as to whether they truly would be able to run it.

Even Gengyo feared it a little. He knew that this kind of progress was truly pushing the limits of what was physically possible, but he had a firm belief that in completing it, that their growth would be all the better. He wanted to give his new unit the best foundation possible for the upcoming battles.

They completed the first three miles without too much of a sweat, surprising themselves. On the first day - each of them remembered - that they had almost collapsed, but it seemed their body was gradually growing conditioned.

Around the fifth mile, the pain started to set in, and they began to doubt themselves further, wondering whether they should not just stop now, and then try to catch up later?

But not a single man did, and they all pushed through until the eighth mile. They were barely standing at this point, and their breathing was laboured. It took a great deal of mental strength to simply take the next step. Their bodies screamed at them to stop. But not a single man wished to be the first to quit. They didn't want to be the ones to hold their unit back.

Neither did Gengyo. The thought of quitting did not even cross his mind. The only thing he was concerned with was finishing, and how long it might take for that to happen.

They exited the trees, and each of them knew this to be the last half a mile. Their minds felt a deal refreshed as they forced themselves to run the last small amount. Their digestive systems even started to grow angry at them at this point, claiming there was no more energy to be found. It was not a few men that felt their bowels growing loose, wondering whether they might end up covered in their own faeces.

But they managed it. Every single one of them. Gengyo could barely remain standing as he finished first, but he forced himself to, so that he could congratulate all those that came after him.

Kitajo was a fast second. He could have easily taken the lead, but he knew that it was important to allow Gengyo to remain in front.

His leader congratulated him with a solid pat on his shoulder, as he did with the rest of them.

They collapsed to the floor in disbelief, so glad that it was over. But more than that, they each felt great pride, for they had not given up. What they had deemed impossible a few days ago, had now been made possible, and it was all thanks to the harsh leadership of that young boy in front of them.

Grins went round as they truly began to feel the progress. It was phenomenal. Immense. The new recruits began to get a taste for why Gengyo was so revered by those that had fought alongside him. He pushed his men to accomplish the impossible, and that they did.

The afternoon, as always, was spent sparring. It was the part they had learned to look forward to. In the past, it was simply another part of training, but with the harshness of the morning routines, they felt as though it was a reward, and some even went home to study the sword more, so that they could best their partners.

Because of this training, not a single one of them felt apprehensive about the battle ahead. Not only did they not feel apprehensive - they felt excited. For what other men could have undergone training harsher than theirs? What army could deal with their advanced tactics?

They had joined for the coin, but now they had something more to work toward, a different meaning, and they imagined that meaning would be found upon the battlefield, just as the veteran's before them had found it

And so the Special Forces unit concluded it's final training session before the Imagawa invasion of Mikawa.

//Author's Note

Thanks for reading c: Since we absolutely crushed our powerstones goal of 600, I'll release 3 chapters today

Chapter end