339: Arquebus 🔥💥
Daily Image created using ChatGPT (Anime AI Art)
💥 Thirty-Nine
Autumn 1575, Mikawa Province. The morning mist clung low to the earth, curling around the legs of the ashigaru as they knelt in rows, matchcords smouldering like incense. Thirty-nine of them. Thirty-nine teppo. Thirty-nine chances to break the charge of the Takeda cavalry. Takeshi’s fingers trembled as he checked the pan for the third time. Powder dry. Match lit. Barrel clear.
He had drilled this a hundred times, but never with death galloping toward him. The arquebus was heavy in his arms, a Portuguese matchlock with a cherrywood stock and iron barrel, traded through Nagasaki and passed down from a veteran of Okehazama. Its serpentine snapped into place with a soft click. Takeshi whispered the steps under his breath more like a ritual now rather than just a drill.
“Step one: prime the pan. Step two: close the cover. Step three: load the powder. Step four: seat the ball. Step five: tamp the charge. Step six: shoulder the weapon. Step seven: breathe.”
The Takeda banners crested the hill, red sunbursts on black silk. Horses screamed. The ground shook. But the line held.
“Step eight: aim.”
He remembered the captain’s words: “You are not a samurai. You are a wall. Be still. Be straight. Be ready.”
“Step nine: fire.”
The matchcord hissed. The pan flared. The arquebus kicked against his shoulder like a mule. Smoke swallowed the field. A rider fell. Takeshi did not cheer. He reloaded.
By sunset, the field was quiet. Thirty-nine arquebuses had fired. Thirty-nine ashigaru had stood their ground. And the matchcord still burned.
