Warring States Survival Guide

In the darkness, Tinuma Castle was in complete chaos.

The defenders never expected the moat, palisades, and the first layer of walls to fall so easily—they were forced to retreat to the nearest rock fortresses and residences, using these as bases to continue resisting, while calling for reinforcements from the rear to hurry over, hoping they might still be able to drive the enemy out.

In short, even though they'd been caught off guard and the Wanjin Army's firepower was fierce, the defenders still had the will to resist.

Thus, amid the raging flames, a fierce assault and defense erupted at the foot of Mount Tinuma. The defenders were familiar with the terrain, had laid out defensive works and various traps in advance, and on top of that, the rock fortresses and arrow towers rained down arrows and stones, controlling the roads from above. Even though the Wanjin Army were better equipped and trained, their advance was repeatedly stalled for the moment, with continuous casualties.

This kind of siege was different from what most people imagine—more akin to urban combat, demanding small unit coordination, infiltration, and close-range fighting. For an army like Wanjin's, which favored long-range firepower and fighting in line formations, it was anything but friendly.

You never know a thing until you try it—try, and it's a real pain in the ass.

No wonder storming large castles has always been a major taboo in military affairs since ancient times.

Seated in the rear, Harano listened constantly to updates from the front line and finally understood why Japan's Warring States had so many cases of "starving out Miki," "thirsting out Tottori," and "flooding Takamatsu." Without heavy artillery to break down each target point by point, taking a mountain fortress this size was a real bitch—you could only starve them out or try some crooked tricks.

If you tried to chew through by brute force, there were plenty of failed examples—like the Battle of Jiujing City.

The Uesugi Family led the Kantou coalition to besiege Jiujing City, quickly broke through the first line of defense at the foot of the mountain, and even seized the Castle Town and harassed the nearby villagers. But there was a critical choke point higher up—cliffs on both sides and a narrow road—where the defenders had early on built a fort. All they had to do was hurl rocks down, and the Kantou coalition turned into a mess, suffering losses and leaving in disgrace—becoming the annual laughingstock.

The terrain of Tinuma Castle wasn't so treacherous—not as deadly as Jiujing City at least—but it's still called a mountain for a reason. The geography wasn't much better. Some enemy-built rock fortresses and arrow towers were placed in cunning spots. There was no way to take them quickly. After breaking through, Wanjin's forces got bogged down in chaotic fighting at the foot, or stalled on the mountain roads.

Wanjin might not need Tinuma Castle, so failing to take it during a drill didn't matter. But in the future, moving onto the Ise Peninsula, there'd be many great castles belonging to the enemy. If they couldn't take these strategic strongholds swiftly, and the siege dragged on for years, things would quickly turn against Wanjin.

At the very least, it would multiply uncertainties and make it much more likely neighboring daimyo would stick their noses into the war.

Maybe we really need to develop a mortar? Something simple—wooden-bodied, just enough to lob a powder charge into the sky?

While Harano wondered whether he could secretly cheat a bit more, he discussed with the remaining staff officers how to better handle this predicament. They hadn't yet produced any solid solution, but the front-line officers took their own initiative, shoving "war carts" up the slope and massing small catapults—just firing at wherever the defenders struck back, burning whatever possible.

The cheapest building material in this era was wood, and Honshu Island sat on a major earthquake zone, so wooden buildings were mainstream. Fire attacks still worked. Thanks to the principle of driving out the enemy instead of occupying, they gradually managed to push back the defenders. But the Wanjin Army couldn't move any faster—each time they drove out the defenders, they couldn't advance themselves right away.

After over an hour of bitter fighting, Wanjin burned through a ton of money, only managed to secure the breach and knock out three enemy forts and a few arrow towers, and barely advanced a few dozen meters up the mountain.

The efficiency just wasn't there, and casualties were hard to control. Without even launching a do-or-die assault, front-line casualty reports had already exceeded the quota in just one hour.

The Wanjin staff officers went back and forth, collecting information from the front lines, and debates got even more heated. They were preparing to revise the training handbook and tweak weapon loadouts accordingly.

All in all, nobody was satisfied with the drill's outcome. They concluded that, for future siege fights like this, the unit should be broken into even smaller and more flexible elements—or get more aggressive, even reckless. From the compiled defensive diagrams, it was clear the enemy couldn't seal off every way up the mountain—some routes could still be forced, there were always holes to exploit.

Mi Jiulang never left. He watched from afar as the Wanjin officers argued among themselves; Harano's face remained indifferent as he listened, but the bits he overheard made Mi Jiulang want to explode.

You're not satisfied with that speed?

Would you only be happy if an entire mountain fortress fell in a single night?

These days, a campaign like this should be thought of in terms of years. Spending a year or two is nothing unusual. Take Inuyama Castle, which is currently under siege by the Oda Family—do you think Oda wants to take it in a night? They don't dare. If they storm it, they can't guarantee victory, so they're just waiting until the defenders are too weak to fight back, then they'll act!

The Oda Family has been messing with it for over half a year and still hasn't attacked. Here you are, storming up the mountainside in just over an hour—while the enemy is still strong and fighting to the death—and you're still arguing?