The summer humid air of the Kylian Forest hung heavy, clinging to Kylia's skin like a damp shroud. Water condensed beaded on her brow, trickling down her temple as she drew another shuriken from a special pouch strapped to her hip. She was fast, a blur of motion that left afterimages shimmering in the air. But power and speed, she was beginning to understand, was not all to strength as she once thought.
With the Navy securing Rosa's city and the Blue Army recuperating, Kylia finally had the time to hone her edge. Over the years she had been neglecting her combat training, prioritising national strength over personal strength.
The battle last week had been a wake-up call. While Kylia was both stronger and faster than Rosa, Kylia could only fight Rosa as an equal, the only real advantage being her sword's greater durability. If they fought one on one with the same equipment, Kylia may not have won that battle.
However Kylia is already relatively proficient in swordsmanship, now needing years of practice just to advance in proficiency. With a war coming, Kylia needs a quick way to get stronger fast. The best way to get stronger fast is creating or learning new methods of attack.
Racking her mind, she looked over all the weird anime combat tricks from memories of the human world and found something that may work especially well for her.
Manipulated Shuriken Technique practised by the Uchiha from Naruto are almost tailor made for Valors. While the Маньоко lacks many of the chakra reliant capabilities of the Sharingan, the Маньоко's motion capture and resolution capabilities weren't too far behind.In some ways, it was even superior. The Маньоко could capture a far broader spectrum of light, differentiating polarized light, and sports a larger field of view than the Sharingan.
Kylia envisioned the finished Valor Manipulated Shuriken Technique, a gatling gun of metal. Dozens of shurikens, not just for damage, but for distraction. A precisely calculated barrage designed to stun and bind dozens of enemies, to restrict their movements just long enough for her to pass by at Mach 1, killing all of them within seconds.
She was beginning with the basics. Throwing shuriken wasn't a problem. She could already hit a stationary target with deadly accuracy at 100 meters range. The challenge lay in throwing a shuriken with steel wire in a way that would wrap around the target, immobilizing it.
Now, she stood in the clearing, 100 meters in front of her, a crudely carved log hung precariously from a branch, its painted bullseye chipped and faded.
She tied a nearly invisible steel wire to the shuriken, the wire thin enough to be almost undetectable. She held the wire taut, feeling the delicate tension between her fingers. Kylia took a deep breath, focusing. Her Маньоко span faster as she focused on the wire, on the target, on the precise trajectory she envisioned.
With a flick of her wrist, the shuriken shot forward, a silver glint against the green backdrop. It flew straight, true, but as it neared the dummy, Kylia willed it to curve. She subtly adjusted the wire's tension, the shuriken wobbled, then swerved violently, missing the target by a wide margin. It embedded itself in a nearby tree, the wire snapping taut and vibrating.
Kylia sighed, the humidity suddenly feeling heavier. Failure. But she wouldn't be deterred. She retrieved the shuriken, carefully examining the wire. The tension was too great. Compared to the anime, real life physics are a lot harder to work with.
Again and again, she threw. Each throw was a lesson, a refinement of her technique. Sometimes the shuriken flew straight, the wire useless. Sometimes the wire snapped, too much pressure. Sometimes it wrapped, but not around the target, around a branch, around itself.
Hours passed. The sun began to dip below the canopy, painting the forest in hues of orange and purple. Sweat plastered her blue hair around her sideways K shaped black horn.
Finally, as the last rays of sunlight filtered through the leaves, she did it. A perfect throw. The shuriken sped towards the log, and with a subtle tug, a delicate twist of her wrist, the wire responded. The shuriken curved around the dummy, the wire wrapping around its wooden limbs, binding it tight.
Kylia exhaled, a slow, triumphant breath. It wasn't perfect. The binding wasn't as tight as she envisioned, and with enough force, the log could probably break free. But it was a start. At least a proof of concept.
Surveying the training ground, a landscape of shuriken, steel wire and splintered wood. A grin stretched across her face. With a sigh of contentment, she went forward to clean up the carnage.
Meanwhile in the City of Okland six lords leading the Coalition of City States huddled around a massive, oak table. The fire crackled and spat, casting dancing shadows on their faces. A map of the Rosa Basin, painstakingly crafted from hundreds of years of exploration, dominated the center. The air in Lord Koal's war room hung thick with the scent of woodsmoke, sweat, and barely restrained ambition.
Lord Koal himself, a man shaped like a round piece of coal and with a permanent frown etched into his weathered face, cleared his throat. "We are all here. Let us speak plainly. For too long, the Kingdom of Kylia has prospered while our lands suffer. Their coffers swell while our bellies grow thin...They hoard the secrets like steel flowing endlessly as water. We, the lords of these neglected territories, will change that."
Around the table, heads nodded, though the agreement felt more like a fragile truce than a unified front.
Lady Aysedora of Rishka, a woman whose beauty belied a ruthless intellect, spoke next. Her voice, sharp as honed steel, cut through the tension. "Koal is right. Kylia's grip on the Rosa Basin market is strangling us. But attacking head-on is risky. As a Valor State, their Army is elite, their resources plentiful ."
Lord Boryslav of Roscof, a frail man with eyes that darted nervously, wrung his hands. "I agree with Isadora. Kyllia's forces are… formidable. The Kylian victory against the bokoblins with zero casualties is daunting."
"Bokoblins are easily dealt with," scoffed Lord Kraut of Konsburg, a brute of a man with a scarred face and a penchant for violence. "Give me a hundred men and a few well-placed bowmen, and those overgrown pigs will be nothing more than charred corpses." Kraut was eager for a fight, his desire for lands and glory barely contained.
Lord Starodavniy of Kokhavor, the oldest of the group, a seasoned veteran with countless battles under his belt, remained silent, studying the map with a critical eye. Finally, he spoke, his voice raspy but firm. "Kraut's enthusiasm is admirable, but foolish. Raw force alone will cause the Coalition to consume too many resources, making our core territory susceptible to attack from the State of Viskov to the north. We need a plan. A cunning plan."
He pointed a gnarled finger at a visible small mountain range marked north east of Kylia City. "The Kylian Mines. A treacherous route, yes, but largely unguarded. If we can funnel the Coalition Army through there, we can quickly advance south west into Kylia's Capital."
Lord Neshchadnist of Techiya, a young, ambitious lord with a reputation for ruthlessness, leaned forward. "The Kylian Mines... risky. How long would it take to navigate that pass?"
"Two weeks, at best," Starodavniy replied. "But the element of surprise would be worth the risk. Even when the Kylians discover our forces, it's impossible to mobilize and send enough troops up the mountain within three weeks. By the time the Kylians mobilize some of their troops up the mountain, we will be at the gates of Kylia City."
A heated discussion ensued. Koal favored a direct assault to showcase his strength. Aysedora argued for a prolonged siege, starving Kylia into submission. Kraut wanted immediate action, regardless of the cost. Boryslav, paralyzed by fear, suggested sending envoys to negotiate, a proposal that was met with derisive laughter. Neshchadnist, driven by ambition, saw the Kylian Mines as an opportunity to distinguish himself, but worried about the potential losses.
For hours, they debated, argued, and threatened each other. The fragile truce that had brought them together teetered on the brink of collapse. Finally, Koal slammed his fist on the table, silencing the room.
"Enough! We are wasting time. We will use a three-pronged approach. Starodavniy, you will lead a small, elite force through the Kylian Mines. Kraut, you will launch a feigned assault on the western front to draw their attention. Aysedora, your fleet will blockade the Kylia City, cutting off their supplies. Neshchadnist, you will command the main force, following Kraut feint with a full-scale attack when the time is right."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across their faces. "This is our chance to seize what is rightfully ours. But remember this, lords. Success will require unity, discipline, and above all, ruthlessness. Should Kylia fall, the spoils will be divided amongst us. But failure… failure will mean death for all of us."
The lords exchanged wary glances. The plan was dangerous, the risks high, but the potential rewards were too tempting to ignore. One by one, they nodded their agreement, sealing their fate and plunging the Kingdom of Kylia into a war it did not yet see coming. The fire crackled, casting long, menacing shadows, as the six lords, their hearts filled with a mixture of ambition and dread, prepared to unleash their fury upon the unsuspecting kingdom.
Unbeknownst to them, the very kingdom they considered weak and ripe for the taking had recently crushed the regional power of Rosa, a feat that had kept the city states in subservience for three decades.
Their ignorance would lead them directly into the jaws of a rising superpower, a fact they would soon learn in blood and iron.