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With every shot that the cannon operators fired, they ducked behind the wall to avoid the arrows that came searching for their heads. But with more bowmen there came more arrows and it grew near impossible to find their opportunity.

The arrows rained over the top of the walls in streams, falling upon Gengyo’s men without a shred of mercy. The Hojo infantry stood watching from a distance, daring them to make move, daring them to give up the perfect defensive position that they’d set up.

"Jikouji!" Gengyo shouted above the screams of injured soldiers. "Take a thousand riflemen with you and deal with those bowmen on the wall!"

"Roger!" The old samurai shouted. "On me, you bastards, let’s get this dealt with!" He said, and a detachment of a thousand men went with him, slowing shimmying their way up ladders, doing their best to avoid the worst of the cannon fire.

"Go against the wall!" Gengyo shouted to his own men next, motioning with his hand towards the wall where the arrow fire was coming from. With their backs pressed against it, Gengyo knew that it would be almost impossible to hit them, but in doing so they gave up their position and their view of the hole in the wall, allowing the enemy forces to approach unmolested.

The men that were still able to march did so, glad to be out of the sharp stabbing arrow range. They went with their backs against the solid stone wall and the riflemen retook their shooting positions at the front, waiting for the enemy to pass through.

The bowmen turned their bows upwards, shooting blindly towards the front wall, hoping to catch any approaching enemy that they could.

Soon the crackle of rifle fire started up again, as Jikouji and his forces made it atop the wall and unleashed their rounds before ducking once more behind cover. With the cannons to support them, the bow units began to thin slightly.

With a signal from the Hojo generals, the bowmen began to march back. Their fire over that wall had become useless, for there was no enemy to attack.

Unhurriedly, they began to walk around to the opposite wall. Jikouji’s men followed them, and before the Hojo soldiers could draw back their bows and make use of the new position, the rifles fired upon them once more.

It was a careful battle that the aggressive Hojo were forced to fight. Each attacking move they made was being checked before it could be made decisive. Piece by piece, they slowly slid their army closer to the castle, looking for a more certain opportunity to claim victory by.

As their bowmen manoeuvred and remanoeuvred themselves, making it difficult for Jikouji to keep up with them, the infantry neared the hole in the castle wall, waiting for the right moment to pop their heads through.

The Hojo headquarters were moved forward as well, as the ten mounted generals made their way closer to the combat. Imagawa Yoshinobu was amongst them, flinching at every rumble of cannon fire, his helmet ill-fitting and his fingers trembling.

The Hojo generals discussed their plans amongst themselves, knowing that Yoshinobu was merely there for his utility as a symbol, as a man he had no real worth.

"These hardy bastards, tucking their heads inside like turtles going into their shells. We’re going to need something pretty special to overwhelm them," one man tutted, his fierce black beard stripped with grey, eager to wet his sword with warm blood.

"Calm yourself, Nakamon. We’ve done all the hard work. We merely need to take our time and do this the right way. We’ll put them in their coffins soon enough," another man counselled, this one much younger, clean-shaven with an intelligent look in his eyes.

"And what is the right way?" Nakamon pressed impatiently.

"We need to dismantle that orderliness of theirs, else we’ll lose too many men. Our fire bomb-throwers need a chance to sow their seeds of chaos," the man said.

"Is this not our opportunity now? They’re cowering behind the wall. We’ll be able to march the bomb-throwers right up without problem," a third chipped in.

"Wait for the infantry to complete their march, have them stationed by the opening in the wall, ready to engage, then we can make use of our bomb-throwers," the man said.

There were a few grunts of annoyance at that. They did not like that such a young man had been put in charge by their Daimyo, but none of them voiced their protests too loudly.

They watched as the infantry slowly picked their way across the battlefield, having slowed to a walk to conserve their energy. With every boom of cannon fire, they looked up, expecting to see the balls reign down on them, but the bowmen were performing their jobs as distractions admirably, and the infantry were able to close the distance without too much harassment.

Only when the backs of the men were against the stone wall did the Hojo general finally give the order for the vulnerable fire bomb-throwers to follow. They walked with caskets filled with gunpowder in one hand and torches in another. It would not take too much for them to self destruct and blow themselves into oblivion.

It was a nervousness that crept into the hearts of the generals as they watched. Placing their hopes on such a brittle unit was difficult, especially when the unit had not seen much battlefield action. It was hard to believe too much in their success.

When they were within range, they began to light the fuses of their bombs. With the fuses still burning, they took a few brave moments to pick their shots and toss the bombs inside. Had one man missed, and hit the wall instead, then the whole troop would have perished.