Chapter 1636: The Wheel of History Rolls Over

Before the Great Han had even launched its final general assault, the city of Kurume Domain had already descended into a bone-chilling, terror-filled wind and rain of despair.

After several brief, sharp thrusts by the Great Han army, the domain city was completely surrounded. Though the forces the Great Han initially sent were not large, after several clashes, not only the shogunate troops who had retreated from Nagasaki, but even the domain soldiers hastily mustered in Kurume had lost the courage to face the Great Han in open battle, and could only allow them to sever Kurume City's communication lines with the outside world, cutting off all contact.

Fortunately, the domain city had its own granaries with stored grain. Although it was now crammed with many peasants from the domain and outsiders from Nagasaki, these stores could still hold out for a while.

The lower-ranking domain people and soldiers, whether deceived by others or willingly deceiving themselves, all believed that if they just held on a little longer, the Shogun in Edo would send a great army to Kyushu, defeat these hateful Han invaders, and they would escape with their lives.

But the upper echelons of the domain, and even the high-ranking shogunate officials who had come to the domain city, judged the situation far more pessimistically.

They all knew, to varying degrees, the inside story of the domain and the shogunate, and had witnessed the sharpness and terror of the Great Han army. They therefore held little expectation that the shogunate could send a large force to rescue them before the domain city fell — indeed, their hearts were full of doubt as to whether the shogunate army could even retake the whole of Kyushu.

For Naitō Shigetada, however, the shogunate's highest official in Nagasaki and a member of the Elder Council, there was no question about this.

Given the strength of the Great Han army and the shogunate's current state, as long as the Great Han main force remained here, it was highly unlikely the shogunate could retake Kyushu — this was the conclusion he had reached with a cool head after personally experiencing several battles against the Great Han army.

Yet he had no intention of sharing this conclusion with others, for not everyone possessed his will to resist. He had to give these people some illusory hope, which would at least allow them to hold out longer.

Yes, he had long since made up his mind. Even if Kurume Domain city could not be held, he would remain here, buying more time for the shogunate, and thus doing his duty.

He had come here by chance. Had the shogunate's internal deliberations not decided to send him to Nagasaki to prepare for trade negotiations with the Great Han, he would never have come here from Edo.

When he left Edo, how high his spirits had been, single-mindedly set on an audience with the Great Han Son of Heaven, and then using his courage and vision to win sufficient benefits for the shogunate. Yet... later he discovered it was all a fantasy.

The matter was now quite clear: the Great Han had never intended to negotiate with the shogunate from the very beginning. They had only deliberately put on the appearance of negotiation to lull their side into complacency. In truth, they had long since made the decision to attack the shogunate — and had certainly made it before the shogunate stirred up the trade dispute.

Whenever he thought of how the Great Han had been carrying out this shameless scheme in secret all along, yet had consistently and deliberately shifted the blame onto their side, Naitō Shigetada could not suppress the fury blazing in his heart.

But he also knew that anger was utterly pointless. All he could do was exert his utmost effort to buy just a little more time for the Shogun.

And when that time was finally exhausted, he had no intention of seeking escape — he would fulfill the promise he had made to Soga Koyu, offering his own life in loyalty to the Shogun, and dying in martyrdom for Kyushu and for Japan.

With a calm that bordered on numbness, he patrolled the ramparts, reprimanding slack domain soldiers and observing the Great Han army below the walls.

As time passed, the Great Han army had gathered in ever greater numbers below the city these past few days. Their red uniforms merged into a sea, looking at a glance exactly as if the crimson lotus flames of hell had spread onto the earth.

This situation could only mean one thing — the Great Han had largely pacified resistance elsewhere, and this place was now one of their few remaining targets.

Naitō Shigetada was not surprised by this; he had long foreseen such an outcome. The Kyushu daimyo either harbored deep past grudges against the Tokugawa shogunate, or had long been resentful of the shogunate's policies restricting the domains. When dry tinder meets no spark, all is well, but once an opportunity arose, their rebellious hearts toward the shogunate would blaze fiercely. They would never resist the Han invaders' military edge for the shogunate's sake.

The Shimazu clan's betrayal had made many realities clear to him. He knew that among the other daimyo, many were surely waiting to follow his example.

He looked around at the domain soldiers on the wall and found that almost none of them spoke, nor did any wear a smile. Everyone was simply numb and calm, as if there were nothing else to do. When facing the end, he supposed, everyone wore such an expression.

A few days ago, some in the domain, feeling that being besieged like this was no solution and that they would likely perish with the city, secretly tried to flee. Though Naitō Shigetada discovered this, he could not stop it in time, and a group of conspirators fought desperately and broke out of the domain city.

They did not, however, gain the safety they sought — before they had run more than a few li, they were intercepted by Great Han soldiers. The brief skirmish turned into a slaughter; they were quickly routed, most were killed, and a small number fled back.

Those who fled back naturally received no mercy. Though the domain city was now sorely short of troops, Naitō Shigetada still ordered them hanged one by one. He had to make everyone understand that there was no road of escape left.

Now those hanged men still dangled from the inner side of the wall, swaying in the wind, their bodies somewhat shriveled from dehydration, looking just like hanging scarecrows.

After these men were hanged, Naitō Shigetada achieved the effect he wanted: the defenders abandoned all hope of flight. Yet a side effect also appeared — everyone wore a numb expression, acting only on orders, as if they had lost the will to live.

Naitō Shigetada did not care about this. Everyone was going to die anyway; the attitude with which they died did not truly matter.

These past few days, the Great Han army had not launched any attacks, content merely to cut off all traffic between the city and the outside. Though he did not know the exact reason, Naitō Shigetada was happy to see this situation. For him, every extra day delayed meant the Shogun in Honshu had one more day to muster troops loyal to the shogunate, and one more measure of hope to preserve the Tokugawa family's foundation.

To oversee the city's defenses, or perhaps just to pass the time, he patrolled back and forth on the ramparts, constantly gazing toward the Great Han military formations.

As the time approached noon, Naitō Shigetada suddenly sensed something amiss. A stir arose within the Great Han army.

Could some internal disorder have broken out among them? Even knowing it was highly unlikely, Naitō Shigetada could not help but hope for it.

He raised his telescope and looked down below the wall.

What he saw instantly turned his hands and feet ice-cold.

As far as the eye could see, on the road leading to Nagasaki, a large army was advancing this way.

Besides the now somewhat familiar Great Han troops, Naitō Shigetada also noticed that this army was interspersed with many people in Japanese attire. When they drew a little closer, he saw the banners in the formation, dense as a forest, and then made a rough identification of the family crests upon them.

"Yanagawa Domain, Saeki Domain, Mori Domain..." Naitō Shigetada read them off expressionlessly, as if it had nothing to do with him.

Suddenly, he gave a bitter laugh. "So many have already surrendered, and so quickly?"

Still, it was quite normal, he supposed. Not unexpected.

Unlike Naitō Shigetada's resignation and detachment, the defenders on the ramparts, once they clearly saw the great army pressing toward them and its composition, were severely shaken. Many abandoned their previous apathetic demeanor and suddenly began shouting and crying out.

Naitō Shigetada knew it was not mere fear; they were this agitated because they saw hope.

He also knew that many wanted to surrender, but dared not voice it for fear that the Great Han army would massacre prisoners. Now, seeing so many domain lords and soldiers successfully surrender, their minds grew active; they wanted to surrender too.

Naitō Shigetada could not stop what they thought in their hearts, but he could ensure that no one who thought so dared speak a word.

"Guard the city gates well, keep a close watch on these domain soldiers, and if anyone wavers, execute one to warn the rest." He glanced at the attendants following him and gave the order.

These men were all samurai he had brought from the shogunate, their will resolute and tenacious. Their families were also in Edo, so they had no family burdens to worry about. They were prepared to fight the Han invaders to the death.

They were also the only force Naitō Shigetada truly trusted. While he relied on these Kurume Domain soldiers, he also maintained many precautions against them. Fortunately, he still had many defeated shogunate remnants who had retreated into the city, which was why Kurume Domain grudgingly obeyed his orders.

After these instructions were passed down, these trusted men mustered the shogunate troops under their command, standing guard against both the Han invaders below the walls and the domain soldiers atop them.

Having given his orders, Naitō Shigetada resumed observing the Han invader army below. This force had advanced along the main road and now merged with the Great Han army originally encircling the city.

To Naitō Shigetada's surprise, after the two forces merged, the Han invaders, whose military discipline had been so strict, were still restless and stirring. Soldiers kept shouting and yelling, as if something momentous had happened.

His confusion was soon resolved. Before long, a group of Great Han officers appeared in his telescope. They were all clustered around a tall and burly Great Han officer. This officer also wore a red uniform, but his accoutrements differed from the others, and those around him treated him with the utmost deference.

So this must be the supreme commander of the Great Han army, Naitō Shigetada thought. Ignoring the growing ache in his hand, he kept his gaze fixed on this group, wanting to see what was so remarkable about the man who would take his life.

It was a pity there were no cannons on the ramparts with sufficient range, or he would truly have liked to try firing a few shots to see if he could kill one or two high-ranking Han invader officers.

Under Naitō Shigetada's watch, the stir within the Great Han army gradually subsided. This was, of course, not good news for him — since the Great Han supreme commander had arrived, it meant the Han invaders were about to launch their general assault.

His blood began to flow faster, and his hand gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist.

The previous field battle outside Nagasaki, where the shogunate army had been routed, had destroyed his confidence in facing the Great Han in open battle and led him to make the wise decision to retreat to Kurume Domain city. But now, he knew he had nowhere left to retreat. This desperate situation, instead, reignited his will to fight.

With the cover of the city walls, they could at least inflict some casualties on the Han invaders... Kurume City would undoubtedly be breached by the Han invaders, but with effort, they could withstand one more assault, kill and wound a few more Han invaders — even one more would be good...

However, the Great Han army's formation suddenly showed some loosening. From a distance, it looked as if waves had appeared in the red sea.

Then, the boiling blood in Naitō Shigetada's veins was suddenly frozen solid, for he clearly saw what that stir was.

A group of soldiers emerged from the Great Han army's formation, followed by several cannons mounted on gun carriages. The muzzles of these cannons were very wide, terrifying to behold. After reaching the base of the wall, these cannons were unloaded from their carriages, and some soldiers piled up earthen mounds, setting the cannons into these earthworks.

Is… is this… are they going to blast the city gates open with cannons?

Naitō Tadashige's state of mind, which had been as still as stagnant water, was violently shaken.

These past days, although the Han bandit army had surrounded Kurume Castle, they had never launched an attack, nor had they bombarded the city with cannons. Naitō Tadashige judged that because they had crossed the sea, they had not yet transported their large artillery pieces over. While he felt fortunate, he couldn't help but gain a bit more confidence.

However, with the arrival of the Han bandits' supreme commander, that good fortune instantly turned to bubbles. Naitō Tadashige truly had not imagined that so soon after the fighting began on both sides, the Han bandits could already transport cannons to the foot of Kurume Castle deep in the Kyushu interior.

From this, one could see just how elite the Great Han army was, and how thorough their preparations were.

After taking Kyushu, these troops would surely march north to engage the shogunate. Lord Shogun… could he truly withstand the raging tide of the Han bandits? Though he knew his own death was fast approaching, Naitō Tadashige could not help but worry for the shogun.

"Quickly! Send men out of the city to counterattack! Destroy those cannons before they're fully set up!" In his desperation, the order blurted out.

Yet, he was stunned to find that no one obeyed his command. No one went out of the city to raid the Han bandits. The people around him merely watched everything below the walls with cold indifference, as if it had nothing to do with their own life or death.

There was no hope left. Naitō Tadashige once again understood this fact.

Just like that, with a bizarre, cold indifference, the people on the city walls watched the Great Han army make their preparations before the bombardment below.

Naitō Tadashige's scalp went numb, his entire body rigid. He realized that the city walls he had wanted to rely on probably held little meaning now. This blow, from hope to despair, was something he simply could not bear.

However, the Great Han military machine would not alter or delay its actions in the slightest because of what was happening on their side. Under Naitō Tadashige's gaze, the supreme commander of the Great Han army swung his hand down heavily, and then… the bombardment began.

The number of cannons below the city was not large, yet they seemed to make the entire earth tremble. Cannonballs larger than a human head were hurled over with terrifying force and slammed heavily into the city walls.

The roar of these cannonballs was like the bellow of a thunder god, and when they exploded against the walls of the domain castle, it was as if a giant swung a hammer. Cracks quickly spread across the walls, and finally, collapses occurred in several places.

The city walls, originally seen as a sanctuary, now crumbled with ease under the Great Han army's bombardment, as simple as cracking an eggshell.

This fact filled everyone's hearts with an indescribable terror. Many opened their mouths to shriek, but because their eardrums had been injured by the cannon fire just now, they could not hear their own screams or those of others. Stone blocks and severed limbs danced through the air, then drifted slowly down, as if they had entered an inhuman world.

Yet, the blow the Han bandits dealt them was far from over. As the bombardment ended, the Han bandits, shouting battle cries as they charged, rushed toward the already ruined Kurume Domain Castle like a tide.

Naitō Tadashige, who had originally hoped they might repel a few of their assaults, was now completely in despair, for he clearly knew that under the Great Han's devastating bombardment, the city walls were utterly useless. The morale of the domain soldiers, and even his own shogunate troops, had completely collapsed.

Just as he expected, when the Han bandits surged to the gaps in the walls, very few soldiers resisted. Even if some put up a reluctant fight, they were quickly killed by the Han bandits.

Now, the Han bandits were about to charge inside the city walls.

Is it all over, just like this?

Naitō Tadashige's mind went blank as he stared blankly at it all.

But he quickly came back to his senses. He immediately descended the city wall, and ignoring his subordinates, rushed straight back into the main keep. There were hardly any people left here; even the serving maids had fled to who knows where.

"Elder-dono, have the Han bandits launched their attack?" Looking at the ashen-faced Naitō Tadashige, the domain lord Arima Tadayori, who had remained in the keep, asked anxiously.

Arima Tadayori was only thirty years old this year. He had never imagined that just after inheriting the position of domain lord, he would encounter such terrible misfortune.

"Yes, they have launched their attack," Naitō Tadashige replied with an eerie calm.

"Then why have you come back? The front lines need your command now!" Arima Tadayori grew frantic.

"Command? What is there left to command?" Naitō Tadashige laughed scornfully. "The Great Han has already breached the city. Today… no, by this afternoon, this place will fall."

"What!" Arima Tadayori turned pale with shock.

"Let us commit seppuku, Domain Lord. Before the Great Han forces break in, we must do our duty." Naitō Tadashige said no more. He drew his katana and looked coldly at Arima Tadayori. "I will act as your kaishaku first, then perform seppuku myself."

He knew Arima Tadayori had tried to surrender to the Great Han, and he would absolutely not allow Arima Tadayori to die after him.

Beside the corpse of Arima Tadayori, a blade in his belly, amidst a vast pool of blood, listening to the roars of the Han bandit soldiers drawing ever closer, Naitō Tadashige stared blankly at the ceiling of the great hall, then pointed his katana toward himself.

"A man's life of fifty years is but a fleeting dream." He murmured to himself, "Lord Shogun, take care."

With a muffled, soft sound, the shogunate's rule in Kyushu came to an end.