Does Even the God of Wind Lend a Hand?

Honestly, by size alone, a cannonball isn't all that big. At most, it's about the length of a forearm.

Cannons had only just come into use, so nobody was flinging anything enormous with such crude technology — and since iron was too precious to waste, most of the projectiles were carved stone.

Yet even those few had sailed clean over the walls and crashed into homes, and the result was a disaster.

"A lot of people died to just a handful of those."

"The walls, then, are not safe."

"Build separate shelters. Surround them with thick, sloped, solid walls — places people can hide."

"Yes, my lady."

This was the age of cannon fire. Castles were obsolete now. What was needed were fortresses. The walls would have to be lowered and built at an angle — not to stop the shells, but to send them ricocheting away.

"More wounded over here!"

"Does anyone have any Holy Water?!"

Once the battle began, everyone had apparently assumed their homes were the safest place to be and hidden indoors.

They called themselves Japanese, but after living side by side in Iwami for hundreds of years, generation after generation, they hardly seemed like strangers anymore.

The people of Daehan were hard at work on the recovery effort alongside them.

"Our response was inadequate. If we'd fired the moment they came into view from the walls, none of this would have happened."

Even if the enemy's range were on par, our accuracy was overwhelmingly superior — the garrison had simply grown complacent.

"We apologize."

"I saw a lot of ships out there earlier. Men like that don't come with good intentions. I'll take responsibility — fire warning shots for now, and send envoys first before anything else."

"Yes, my lady."

During the stay, I wrote a letter to the Ministry of War in Sinsi. If I reported what had happened here today, they could analyze it — after all, that was the place meant to study the future course of war and how to counter it.

They were hopeless at most things, but when it came to brawling and warfare, they showed remarkable talent, so one could hold out some hope for them.

The steam tank, for instance — the idea itself wasn't bad. I'd rejected it, but I'd added a note: keep researching.

If I hadn't built Daehan, these would be exactly the sort of humans destined to be dragged off as slaves or worked to death as soldiers somewhere.

What's that? They object? Well, maybe it's precisely because I built Daehan that kids like them exist in the first place?

"My lady, the supply fleet has arrived."

"Already?"

There was no such thing as radio out here, so supply ships and courier vessels were dispatched on a fixed schedule by principle. Had that much time really passed already?

Come to think of it, we had lingered quite a while — repairing the castle and building shelters. The residents were ours to protect, after all.

"Then I suppose it's time to set sail."

"We will prepare at once."

"Do it thoroughly, and bring only ten ships. Someone has to stay behind and guard this place."

However good cannons were, a castle was still a fixed target. Having warships that could sail out and fight would be far better — they'd double as a reserve force, too.

"Will you be all right, my lady?"

"Why? Feeling unsure of yourselves? Against enemies who can barely fling pea-sized shells and rocks?"

"Certainly not!"

It was the first time the enemy had fired cannons at them, so the worry was understandable.

"Then why the long faces? What exactly is there to be afraid of?"

"Afraid?! Who said anything about fear?! How could you wound us so?!"

Oh, they bristle. Well, I suppose the word fear simply doesn't exist in their dictionaries. Their pride has clearly taken a hit.

"We could never forgive ourselves if any harm came to you, my lady!"

"I could stand right in front of a cannon when it fires and not get hurt, you know?"

Well, it might sting a little. Ah — though my clothes would end up in tatters, wouldn't they?

"So much as a speck of dust on you, and our hearts would be torn asunder!"

"..."

I should just get going. Any more of this conversation and all I'll get out of it is fanatics.

"Hurry up with the preparations."

"Yes, my lady!"

While the fleet scrambled to ready itself, the Japanese came to see me. They wanted to join the fight, they said.

"No."

"Are more soldiers not always better?"

"You'd have to march in armor carrying rifles and supplies besides — you'd drop dead within a few hundred steps."

And no matter how carefully you screened them, there were always spies. One spy hidden among a hundred was enough to ruin everything.

"Come to think of it, we'd likely be more of a burden than a reinforcement."

"Besides, you don't know a thing about engagement doctrine. It'd be a miracle if you didn't shoot one of our own."

Someone suddenly charging ahead of the line, someone drifting off to the side — it was a genuine headache waiting to happen. Sticking to a set order and procedure was absolutely critical.

How many commanders throughout history charged off on their own and became a menace to their own armies?

"Absolutely not. Tell them to guard their homes instead — and no porters either. And keep a close eye out for anyone stirring up trouble. They're almost certainly spies."

"Yes, my lady. I'll see to the departure preparations."

"Departure preparations" turned out to be nothing much. Since we'd be making landings, we took on extra men, and loaded more weapons into the empty holds.

Time to collect our revenge — and collect on our debt!

Whoosh! Craaash!

"What is that?"

It was about the season for typhoons, sure — but this suddenly? Wasn't a typhoon supposed to give you some kind of warning first?

CRASH! CLATTER!

In the distance, ships rocked in the waves, something rolling and banging around inside them, chaos aboard. And that was the worrying part — the typhoon had come so suddenly that nothing had been secured.

What if crates of cannonballs were tumbling around in there?

"What kind of wind blows this hard?!"

"My lady, please get inside. I believe we'll have to stay put for a while."

"Wait — the ships are empty, right? No one's aboard?"

"Correct. Everyone has disembarked."

They had all come ashore and were waiting out the storm.

"And what if someone were aboard?"

"Who in their right mind would sail in that?"

Even inside the harbor, the waves were crashing in from every direction — the fish themselves looked liable to get flung out and die on land.

"Well, it certainly wouldn't be me..."

"That's the spirit."

But the ships were nagging at me. Surely nothing would blow up? It was our harbor, after all — but those vessels moored outside the walls worried me. They were already loaded to the brim with gunpowder weapons...

KUWAAAANG!

"Gah!"

"What was that?!"

We'd been watching the swaying masts beyond ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the wall with mounting unease, and the blast nearly knocked us off our feet. It sounded like the sky itself was collapsing.

KUUUURRRRUUUMMM!

"What in the world is going on?!"

Don't tell me — one goes up, and drags the ship next to it down with it?

Shaaa... ratatatatat...

Riding the wind came splinters of unidentifiable wreckage, and the air filled with the stench of gunpowder.

After a week of typhoon, we were beggars. One powder magazine going up shouldn't have produced a blast radius this wide — what kind of luck was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this?

Four ships had sunk. Nine had taken so many shells slamming into them that they were only technically still afloat. There was nothing to repair — we'd just have to drag them out and use them for firewood.

"Waaahahaha..."

"Sigh..."

The girls were utterly crestfallen. Was there really a god up there? Was this the Japan protected by the god of wind?

The spies watching from somewhere in those mountains must be beside themselves. Once word reached Kamakura, would they start believing Japan really was guarded by the divine and get even more reckless?

"When are we ever going to finish cleaning all this up?"

"Hard to say?"

Honestly, the ships were no great loss — we could always build more. The real problem was the harbor. The low wall we'd raised along the waterline, both to contain the blast and block the wind, had been wiped out along with everything ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠else.

The mine had flooded too. What kind of cursed luck was this?

"Well, at least no one was hurt. That counts for something, right?"

"Doesn't it? Supplies can always be reshipped!"

True — a disaster where nobody dies is no disaster at all. Still, something about it rankles. Should I add this to the debt ledger too?

"Cleanup first, then."

"Yes, my lady."

"I'll lift the ships out and set them on shore, so carefully stow the cargo. Understood?"

"Yes! Thank you!"

In case anyone's forgotten — I have telekinesis. The Horned Whales were enormous, yes, but hauling them up and setting them down was hardly a challenge.

Odd, how my powers always ended up serving as heavy construction equipment.

Ooooo... shaaaaaa...

First, I lifted the nine half-shattered ships up from the quay.

"What the—!"

"The ships are flying!"

"The gods are angry with us!"

Well, what else would the clueless Japanese think? They wailed and wept and prayed to their gods — little do they know, the very god they're looking for is right here, children.

KUGUGUNG! KUGUNG! CRASH-BANG!

"Please don't explode again..."

Even setting them down as gingerly as I could, with hulls that shallow they had no choice but to lie tilted against the ground.

And the cargo went rolling around inside again. Wait — it was rolling around even worse than during the typhoon? And they said nothing would blow up? I felt a strange, unquantifiable sense of betrayal.

SPLASH.

And then there were the four poor souls resting at the bottom of the harbor. At this point they really were just firewood, weren't they?

Buoyant...

I raised them carefully up to the surface nonetheless.

"AAAAAH! The sunken ships are rising!"

"O gods!"

"Please, calm your righteous fury..."

Ships rising from beneath the water sent our Japanese friends into fresh hysterics. Wasn't Japan supposed to worship the Buddha? Funny how none of them were running off to look for him.

Shaaaa... splash, splash...

Along with the water that had filled the holds, the cargo came pouring out of their crates and scattered into the sea. Fishing all that out was going to be a tedious chore.

Thirteen Horned Whales, laid out in a row from the harbor bottom to the water's surface. Pitiful things. They'd never even get proper use, doomed to end their days as firewood.

A blast like that shouldn't have had this kind of yield. The Japanese really had gotten lucky. Or we had simply drawn the short straw.

"Just to be safe, handle everything extremely carefully."

"How peculiar, my lady. We used to hurl crates like that around all the time and they never once went off."

"..."

I'd noticed it long ago, back when their forefathers' forefathers' forefathers were carelessly rolling boxes of dynamite around: these people had astonishingly long lifelines. It never ceased to amaze me.

Or maybe — was this their one stroke of bad luck, cashed in all at once? If it had blown up on the castle side, something would surely have come down. Yet not a single person had been hurt.

"Well, it's good shipbuilding timber, so use it for houses or repairing the mine."

"Yes! Everyone will be delighted."

I'd heard the wood from central Eastern Continent was excellent — it seemed trees grown in warm climates tended to make the finest timber.

Word was that the slopes around Mount Fuji here had plenty of good trees too. Oh? If I ever need to destroy Japan, maybe I could just haul in loads of dynamite and blow the whole mountain down to its roots — blast, shovel, blast, shovel?

If these people really get on my nerves, I might just have to try it.

"We'll ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠go get started on the cleanup, then."

"Hehehe. Destruction scenario complete."

"My lady?"

"Heh heh heh."

"What are you thinking about? You're making the face of a truly exemplary villain?"

Ahem. Yes! Good thoughts. Wholesome thoughts.

"More ships will have to come before we leave, so let's keep the weapons here and use them for now."

"Yes. We'll move them into the warehouse."

I supposed we'd be staying put for a while. What a mess this had turned into.

Swish, swish, swish.

"Hey! Easy with that pull!"

"Got it! Sorry about that."

Contrary to what you'd expect, axes weren't much use for felling trees. What they needed were saws imported from Daehan. Not as thin and rigid as a modern blade, but nothing cut wood like one.

When the first natives had arrived in Iwami and been given iron axes, farming tools, and saws, they'd all nearly fainted on the spot.

Iron was a far scarcer resource than one might think, and stone picks and stone axes were still in everyday use.

"Timber!"

"Stand clear!"

"Watch yourselves!"

What they were cutting now were the masts. A whole, intact, seasoned tree like that was as good as lumber pre-planted for use, and it had the greatest range of applications. Prepped and ready as it was, it came off the ships first.

"Are we really allowed to take this?"

"Mm. But don't keep it too long — eat it fresh."

"Yes, my lady! I'll tell my mother!"

And among the cargo we hauled out, there was a great deal of food. Anything water-soaked had to be eaten as quickly as possible, even dried first, so we were distributing it generously to the villagers.

It seemed better than letting it all rot and go moldy, didn't it? That was the thinking, anyway.

Perhaps because of it, life began to stir again in the gloomy little village. People eating well, working hard, cheering each other on — the very picture of health.

"Imagine if everyone could just live like this, all the time."

What was land, what was money, that men had to go to war to steal them? Left alone, people live quietly enough. They were the ones who struck first — so we'd simply have to wait and see what came of it.