Red Death S1

The Yamatsuki soldiers gather near the armory. Final preparations. Armor clinks. Tension swells in the dusk.

Kumo stands at the front, pointing to hand-drawn maps. His voice carries, but not everyone listens.

Among the group, one older Yamatsuki fighter scoffs, loud enough for others to hear.

Yamatsuki Warrior:"Tch. Kid's never even seen real blood. But he's giving orders like he's Hirai himself."

Another smirks."Next thing he'll tell us how to die."

Ryu steps forward. Quiet. Sudden.

He walks through the crowd without a word—shoulders squared, eyes locked on the one who spoke.

The laughter dies. The yard stills.

Ryu stops in front of the man. Just stares.

No emotion. No rage. Just pressure. Like standing in front of a cliff that might fall on you.

Ryu (calm, cold):"How about you give the orders, then?"

(beat)

"Take this map. Command them. Go ahead."

The soldier hesitates. Ryu leans in—voice lower, colder.

Ryu:"But if your decisions get them killed…" He points to him teammates

(beat)

"I will climb through the blood-soaked wreckage of this battlefield… tear open death itself…"

(locks eyes)"…and drag your corpse back just to make sure you pay for it."

Silence. Heavy and sharp.

No one breathes. The fire crackles.

The warrior looks away.

Ryu (flat):"If you do not respect effort of another person!"

(beat)

"Then you don't deserve to stand next to him!"

He turns, walking away as if nothing happened.

Kumo watches—eyes wide. He says nothing. Just grips the hilt of his blade tighter. Just a breath held… then exhaled.

The warriors are quiet now.

Not because they respect Ryu.

But because they fear him.

And in war…

That's enough.

Later in night

Moonlight filters through the branches.

The first wave of Imperial scouts creeps through the woods—silent, cloaked, blades drawn.

Above them, in the trees and brush—Yamatsuki archers wait.

Breathing steady. Bows drawn.

Ryu kneels behind a log, eyes scanning through shadows.

A soft signal—a hand wave.

TWANG.

TWANG.

TWANG.

Three scouts fall before they even realize they've been seen.

One more stumbles into view, crouching near a tree—he hears the thud of bodies.

Eyes widen.

He turns.

Runs.

Draws breath to shout—

Yamatsuki Archer (whispers):"Should I drop him?"

Ryu raises a hand.

Ryu (quiet):"No. Let him go."

The archer hesitates, confused.

Archer:"Why?"

Ryu:"Because he'll do exactly what we need."

(beat)

"Panic spreads faster than plague."

The archer nods, still unsure. But obeys.

The scout vanishes into the woods, footsteps crashing like thunder.

Ryu (internal):Now they'll divide. And that's when we bury them.

He lowers his hand.

INT. EMPIRE OUTPOST – NIGHT

A grand tent. Shadows stretch long across red banners.

General ERIK stands above a war table, arms crossed. Around him—his lieutenants, tense.

A scout kneels, dirt-covered, breathing hard.

Scout:"S-Shirogane… ambushed our forward team. They're fortified. It's a trap—"

ERIK (flat):"Of course it is."

Lieutenant:"They're more prepared than we thought."

ERIK:"No. Someone warned them."

(beat)

"No rebel militia acts with this kind of precision. We're not facing farmers with swords. Someone inside that town understands how we fight."

Lieutenant:"You want to delay? Wait for reinforcements?"

ERIK (cold):"We strike before they have time to call for more help. Midnight. We will attack as seperated waves."

(beat)

"They expect a single wave."

EXT. SHIROGANE WATCHTOWER – SAME TIME

Hirai stands at the top, watching the forest.

He sees a faint movement—then a fleeing silhouette in the trees.

His jaw tightens.

Hirai (low):"You were right…"

The torch beside him crackles. He turns, descending into the stone hall below.

INT. SHIROGANE HALL – NIGHT

The long table is stripped bare. Only blades, diagrams, and silence remain.

Kumo sits off to the side, face pale but composed. His fingers fidget at his sleeve.

The door opens.

Ryu enters—no words, no bow. He walks past the other Yamatsuki, unfurls a new cloth onto the center of the table.

Hirai watches from the head seat, arms crossed.

Hirai (measured):"You were right. About the scouts. About the timing."

(beat)"Still don't like being cornered by someone I barely know."

Ryu doesn't flinch. He presses down the map, pointing at key markers.

Ryu:"They'll hit at midnight. Broken waves, short intervals. Just enough chaos to scatter your defense."

Hirai:"They think we'll overextend."

Ryu:"They think that it's too late to call for reinforcements. The scout that got away was meant to confirm that."

A younger Yamatsuki officer scoffs.

Officer:"And if they come in one full strike instead? No waves—just one wall of steel?"

Ryu turns his head, gaze cold and direct.

Ryu:"Then we shift the fallback line. Bring the flanks inward, force them into the center."

(beat)

"The center's rigged. Oil, spike trenches, narrow terrain. Let them press too deep—then collapse the gap."

Hirai nods slightly, recognizing the ruthless efficiency of it.

Kumo:"That'll put our people right in the blast zone."

Ryu:"Only if they hesitate."

He looks around the table now—one soldier to the next.

Ryu (flat):"This isn't about honor. It's about ending the fight before it begins."

(beat)

"If they hit us in parts, we bleed them dry. If they come in full force, we snap their spine in one movement."

He turns to Kumo now, voice cold but not cruel.

Ryu:"And you. Nobody is going to give you peace because you asked for it nicely."

Kumo doesn't look away. He just breathes.

Ryu (sharper):"Peace is bought. Earned. Taken. And most times, someone else dies for you to keep it."

The hall is quiet again. Even the fire seems to crackle more softly.

Hirai:"Fine. We follow your plan. Every step."

(beat)

"But if we lose even one man needlessly…"

Ryu (interrupts):"Then I'll handle it."

(beat)

"Personally."

He rolls the map up with surgical precision, then steps back.

Ryu:"Move your men into position. Rotate fresh scouts along the flanks. Midnight is closer than it sounds."

He walks out, not looking back.

Only Kumo's gaze follows him.