Oda Nobunaga just wont stop terrorizing people! After his attempt to open a pathway to the Demon Skies and grant himself the powers of the Sixth Sky Demon King failed, his forces were transported to another dimension: Maple World!
Ripped through time and space, and cast into a strange land they could never have imagined, three of feudal Japans greatest leaders must put aside their differences to prepare for the coming war. Uesugi Kenshin, the beautiful valkyrie of the blade. Takeda Shingen, the red haired bull. Mouri Motonari, the master of war. The future of Maple World hinges on their ability to stop Nobunagas forces from enlisting the help of the Black Mage.
And to do that, theyre going to need some friends...
Table of Contents
Worlds Collide
Fifty, said Neinheart resolutely, placing his hand on the corner of the map, his manicured index finger falling over the Mushroom Shrine. We gather here and storm Honnou-Ji from the southeast.
Honnou-ji has stood against armies a thousand times the size, foreigner. Mouri Motonari swiped at his gray-streaked beard with a precise flick of his wrist. When you approach the dwelling of your greatest foe, do you tap feebly on his door, or do you smash it to splinters with the force of a tidal wave?
The two had been arguing for hours, locked in a strategy stalemate. Beads of sweat formed on their brows, threatening to slip and reveal each mans anxiety at any moment. For the first time, these two behemoths of the battlefield had met their match. Motonari, a great leader could take an entire army with 50 troops, he said, hoping to appeal to Motonaris ego.
Motonaris hand darted to his beard again and the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. Motonari snapped open his fan and waved it feverishly for a few seconds. A gust of cool air brushed Neinhearts cheek, reminding him just how stifling the room was. And he was slouching! Power stance, Neinheart. You must remain in control!
Fifty spearmen, one of the Cygnus Knights besides Mihile, limited use of my personal armorer for one week. Neinheart offered.
Seventy-five spearmen, two Cygnus Knights, and a monocle identical to yours.
I would sooner dive into the stinking depths of a Mu Lung laundry bin, said Neinheart.
There was definitely a smile now. Youve fallen for my gambit, Motonari. Neinheart watched the negotiations play out in his mind like a string of chess moves. It was all coming together perf--
And the dragon? Motonari asked suddenly.
Shinsoo? What about Shinsoo? The panicked words fell from Neinhearts mouth before he could stop them.
Only a fool would waste his most valuable resource in the fight against Demon King Nobunaga. He seeks to open a portal to a realm of pure evil. Shinsoo could be the key to maintaining your saccharine existence.
Neinheart studied Motonaris sharp eyes, searching for any trace of sarcasm, but found nothing. Even the fleeting smile had been erased, replaced by his signature frumpy glower. Neinheart peered through the window of the strategy room to the lawn, where Shinsoo dozed peacefully under a tree. Motonari cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows a fraction of a millimeter. Do you want to win this battle, tactician?
A bead of sweat dropped from Neinhearts forehead and splashed on the floor. He couldnt let Motonari disgrace Shinsoo like that.
Perhaps you treat dragons as you would a common house cat in your land, Motonari, but Shinsoo is no beast of burden. I would sooner see my entire force ground up into mushroom fertilizer than have a single soldier sully that dragon with his soiled trousers."
Neinheart stood and walked to the tent door. This would be his final play, a strategic move he liked to call The Thunder. He drew a sharp breath and unleashed the torrent...
I can see that negotiations will not move forward as they are. Youve come to ask for our aid in the battle against a threat that YOU brought to our world, and you will abide by my rules, as does every other adventurer, scoundrel, or would-be hero that crosses the threshold of Ereve. Neinheart adjusted his monocle and spun to face Motonari with theatrical flair. I had hoped your people would join our Alliance as so many others have, yet all I have seen you do is take. I fear that any commitments I make to you will only act as an opening to the infantile demands of a raving force of lunatics.
Neinheart gestured toward the door. Good day, sir.
The smile returned to Motonaris stern face, this time in full force. You stand up for what you believe in.
Neinheart exhaled.
Got you.
You will make an acceptable ally in our battle against the Demon King. Montonari bowed deeply and Neinheart bowed in return, slightly shocked that it was over. Now let us plan for the temples interior. Nobunaga will have a great host waiting for us inside, Motonari said. Thirty of our men can man the ballistae and fire on our command just as the remaining troops scale the wall and drive into the temples heart.
We dont have ballistae. And dont you think scaling the wall is an unnecessary risk? Why not open a hole?
Motonaris smile faded, well-worn wrinkles settling into the familiar stony visage. When you storm a base, do you sit outside and beg the enemy to take the upper hand, or do you rain fire and brimstone from above?
Neinheart sighed. It was going to be a long meeting.
Just Peachy
Kenshins blade was a silver blur. It stopped abruptly, less than a millimeter from the pale orange skin of one of Mu Lungs famous peaches. So Gong watched with half-lidded eyes as Kenshin spun the blade back into its sheath with a flick of her wrist.
Didnt know you were so good at cutting air, he remarked, yawning.
Kenshin snapped her fingers and the peach split in half. One half landed in So Gongs open mouth, the other in Kenshins outstretched hand. The pit imbedded itself neatly in the dirt by Kenshins feet. She smiled and took a loud, slurping bite.
Yeah, still not good enough. If you want help from the best and brightest in Mu Lung, you gotta do more than cut a peach in half, sister. So Gong leaned harder on his staff, trying to look even more apathetic.
Kenshin felt the blood rise in her cheeks. Back in Japan, no one would dare question her abilities, but people here were...different. This new world had made her significantly weaker, dulled her reflexes. Proving herself to these strange warriors had become the most difficult lesson in humility she had ever had to learn. But Uesugi Kenshin was unmatched with a blade, and no temporary interdimensional weakness was going to keep her from personally humiliating the Demon King in front of that loud-mouthed, crimson-headed braggart, Takeda Shingen.
I will gain your allegiance or I will have you as a rug, she said through gritted teeth.
She drew her blade and leapt high into the air, lashing out at the peach tree with a flurry of strikes. She spun the blade faster and faster until the air parted around her and clapped back together with each thunderous strike. Her battle cry rattled the leaves as she slammed down on the ground with all her might, sending a shockwave through the entire orchard. Suddenly, everything was still. The moisture in the soil beneath her fingers was cool and refreshing against the suns rays.
A low rumble permeated the environment and the ground began to tremble. Kenshin stood and turned toward So Gong just as an avalanche of sliced peaches tumbled from the trees, sweeping them both off their feet. Kenshin rose to the top of the mound of peaches effortlessly while So Gong struggled beneath the sticky fruit. By the time he emerged from the peaches, his fur was stained a deep orange.
But still, So Gong was unimpressed. If I ever need a bulk order of peach cobbler, Kenshin, youll be the first person I call, he said, scraping peach goo from his ears and leaning lazily on his staff, but if these Nobu-bad guys youre talking about are as weak as you, I dont see why we should be worried at all.
Kenshin could hardly contain her rage. It had taken her over a decade to perfect that technique, and now this petulant fluff ball... She had no choice. Kenshin would have to force this bear-creature to listen to reason before Nobunagas forces swept over Mu Lung like a plague of locusts. It would have to be the Thousand Pinches Technique. It was the only way. Kenshin had vowed not to use this technique until she was face to face with Nobunaga himself, but anyone so adamantly unwilling to fight evil should have to face the same humiliation.
So Gong, what if I told you that I could make you cry like a baby with a touch of my hand?
Ha! Whatre you gonna do? Make me listen to the stories of your boring old homeland? Ive been
inside Tae Roon. He ate me and I stayed there for three days. I didnt cry then, and Im not gonna cry now. He dropped his staff and raised his arms in the air. Take your best shot.
Prepare yourself, Kenshin warned, sinking into a rock-solid horse stance. Hiya! She launched herself at So Gong, fingers darting so fast he could barely see them as they struck his body, twisting and stabbing at his skin. Ha! Ya! Hiya! She opened her palms and slapped So Gong up and down, the dizzying force of the blows ejecting peach goo from his fur in a hazy cloud. Yaaaaaaaaaah! Kenshin struck both of So Gongs armpits at once.
So Gong stood strong, smirking at her display. Kenshin almost felt sorry for him as his belly let out a loud and drawn-out gurgle. It will be over soon, So Gong, and when it is, I will have your loyalty and the loyalty of your fluffy army.
You think you can put me down that easy? Ive had massages that did more
So Gong didnt even realize that he had collapsed into the pile of peaches, all four of his legs thrust helplessly in the air like a puppy waiting for a belly rub.
What in Maple World? He tried desperately to right himself, but every muscle in his body was a useless, knotted lump. Kenshin smiled at her handiwork. The next three days would be difficult for him as his bones slowly became solid again and his usually coarse fur twisted into luscious, curly locks. It wouldnt be pretty, but Kenshin didnt have time for pretty. She only had time for respect.
So Gong squirmed atop the peaches, but it was no use. He was completely immobilized. A single tear slid from his eye and caught on his fur. Kenshin bent swiftly and brushed it into a small vial marked Tears of my enemies.
Do we have a deal?
Yeah, So Gong sniffled, his tongue swelling rapidly in his mouth. You might not be tho worthleth aftle all.
Kenshin felt sorry for the little creature, but if Nobunaga was to be stopped, the alliance would need all the warriors they could find. So Gong didnt know it, but he had just changed the course of history, for Japan and Maple World.
Split Ends
Its not often that a mere mortal is blessed with the opportunity to touch Takeda Shingens flowing, red locks, but on this day, fate smiled upon Big Headward.
Customers zipped in and out of the Henesys Hair Salon in a flurry of perms and hardened hairspray as Big Headward tamed the wild tresses of Maple Worlds most dignified denizens. Headward wouldnt have been surprised to see the Black Mage himself walk through the doors for his signature evil troubador cut. Of course, Headward would turn him away like all the other unwashed plebeians without appointments.
Even with the wild success of his salon, Headward couldnt shake the feeling that there might be a leaf left unturned, that he possessed a certain amount of untapped potential. Had he really seen it all, or was there something more meaningful in life?
He looked up from his current customers nearly-complete beehive hairdo, and gasped. A peculiar man approached the shop, his hair the very image of windswept perfection. Bright red layers shimmered in the sunlight, flowing effortlessly, defying gravity, twisting into an explosive crescendo of starfire yellow that would reduce Maple Worlds most vibrant sunset to black and white.
Ouch!
Headward looked down at the gaping hole hed just cut in the beehive do. The woman stared into the small, circular hole in the mirror, horror mingling with trepidation.
Mr. Headward, sir, did you mean to...
Of course I did! he said, How else will the bees get into their hive?!
Her fingers darted to her head and a look of forced acceptance washed over her face, O-of course Mr. Headward. Whatever you say Mr. Headw--
But Headward was already racing down the stairs to meet the walking fire-pit of hair.
Im here for your burliest, brawniest, and preferably ugliest warrior! the man yelled, bursting through the door.
Brittany! said Headward, snapping in rapid succession. Bring this coiffured specimen to my chambers and fetch my best sheers and a gallon of fresh spring water. This is going to take time.
Brittany sprinted off without another word as Headward turned his attention to Shingen.
I must know your name, Headward said.
Its uh... Takeda Shingen. My comrade tells me this is a popular place for warriors to stop in and rejuvenate themselves. You see, I come from a far off land, a place where--
Headward seized one of Shingens massive arms and led him into the back, where a gleaming throne of chrome and leather awaited. Headward pirouetted, sending Shingen into the chair with a loud oomph. Before he could speak, Headward was behind him, flourishing a chocolatey brown cape around his broad, armored shoulders.
You guys really know how to treat a commander! Will the warriors come out and put on a live duel for me? An excellent test!
Such beautiful pigment, Headward said, but these split ends must go.
And then Shingen saw the scissors.
Whats that?
Nothing, said Headward. Well get you your soldiers in a minute.
Oh! Good. Ive yet to see a battle-ready sol...
Headward snipped a lock tentatively. No reaction. He snipped a larger chunk. Shingen continued talking. Now his hands moved faster; a feathering here, a new layer there.
Suddenly, Shingen erupted from his chair.
Whats the meaning of this? he boomed. The few remaining customers took this as their signal to leave. Shingen ran his fingers through his hair with a calculated motion and began fuming. A vein bulged between his rapidly-reddening eyes. YOU TRIED TO STEAL MY POWER!
He snatched a stray comb from the counter and charged at Headward like a mad bull. The tip of the brush hurtled toward Headwards throat, but he brought the scissors up for a deft counter and tumbled to the side.
Ill never let you win this battle, barber scum! Shingen bellowed, preparing for another attack.
You wont leave here without a proper cut and a nice hot towel massage! Headward retorted.
Shingen lunged again, and this time, the force of his blow flung the scissors from Headwards hand. He raised his arm for the final strike, but Headward dove to the side just as the comb came down on the hardwood floor, little plastic teeth shattering into the air. Headward reached blindly for a weapon, and found his favorite cayenne-mint hair relaxer. Shingen rounded on Headward, preparing to end this little farce, and found himself at the business end of the conditioners nozzle.
How about you... RELAX! Headward squeezed hard and a jet of freshly scented conditioner coated Shingens face. Shingen screamed and fell, writhing on the floor as the cayenne spice bit into his eyes.
Before Shingen could recover, Headward had combed, trimmed, snipped, and styled his hair. He pawed at his eyes as the hot towel came down on his face, struggling to stay angry as soft hands rubbed his weary shoulders.
Headward whipped the warm towel away in a flourish, revealing Shingens glorious new mane in the mirror. Shingen couldnt help but admire the lambent sparkle, the infinite volume, the sheer brilliance of Headwards work. This was the best haircut hed ever had.
I-I have mistreated you, Master Headward, he said with quiet reverence, Ive never met a barber who could best me on the battlefield or the salon, but you have proven yourself a mighty warrior this day.
The pleasure was mine. A slight smirk spread across Headwards ample jowls. You can settle your bill with Brittany.
Shingen watched in awe as Headward sauntered from the room, reveling in a job well done. One day they would do battle again, but for today, Big Headward was the true master of the battlefield.
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