The early morning fog was still clinging to the mountainside when Arson first spotted the approaching army. From the monastery's lookout, he could see them—ghostly figures marching in perfect formation, their bodies glowing faintly against the gray horizon. At the head of the army, a massive banner swayed in the wind, its dull brown color stark against the mist. Plastered across it, in crude, bold strokes, was the grinning face of Cole, the leader of the spectral horde.
"They're coming," Arson muttered, his voice tight with unease.
Rai stood beside him, her brow furrowed as she took in the sight. "Well, that's... something. He's really going for the whole 'villainous dictator' vibe, huh? I mean, banners? Really?"
Arson didn't answer, his mind already racing. The army looked far larger than anything he'd expected, a seemingly endless sea of ghosts marching up the mountain toward them. But something about it felt off—too grand, too orchestrated. It was all about the show, the spectacle. Cole had crafted an illusion of invincibility, his army appearing much larger than it truly was through clever maneuvering. Arson couldn't help but grit his teeth at the arrogance of it.
"Banners make it seem bigger than it is," Arson said, narrowing his eyes. "He's trying to scare us."
"Well," Rai said, crossing her arms, "he's doing a pretty good job of it."
By the time the ghost army reached the base of the mountain, the monastery was prepared. The farmers who lived at the foot of the cliffs had joined them, armed with whatever tools they could find—pitchforks, axes, anything that could be swung in a fight. Misako had rallied them with her quiet confidence, while Wu had stood in silent contemplation, gathering his strength.
But it wasn't just the weapons that were important. Arson knew this battle wasn't just physical—it was symbolic. Cole was putting on a show with his banners, so Arson decided to put on one of his own.
"Rai, help me with this," he said, unfurling a large green banner.
The banner, simple yet striking, had a single word written across it in the elegant script of Ninjargon: Peace. It was a stark contrast to Cole's looming face, a message of defiance against his attempts to sow fear.
They hoisted the banner above the monastery, letting it flutter in the wind for all to see.
Rai grinned. "Not bad. Let's hope it hits home."
Cole stood at the head of his army, his ghostly form glowing ominously as he gazed up the mountain. His banner—his face—swayed proudly behind him, casting a menacing presence over his forces. It was perfect. The sight of his army, combined with the display of dominance, was enough to make anyone tremble.
"Look at them," Cole muttered, his voice low. "They think they can stand against us."
He raised his hand, signaling his soldiers forward. The ghostly army began their ascent, marching steadily up the winding path toward the monastery. But as they moved, their advance was met with resistance.
Farmers, armed with simple tools, rushed down the path, striking at the ghostly soldiers. Misako and Wu stood at the monastery gates, their defenses strong as they held off the initial wave. Arson and Rai fought alongside them, fire and water combining in perfect harmony to disrupt the ghosts' formation.
But Cole wasn't easily dissuaded. He had planned for this—he knew how to use the terrain to his advantage. The narrow path up the mountain would funnel his army, making it appear even larger. His banners, draped along the ridges, loomed over the defenders, reminding them of his presence at every turn.
Still, Arson's mind was already working on a counterattack. As the ghosts advanced, slipping through the cracks in their defenses, an idea sparked in his head.
"Rai," he shouted, turning to her as they fought. "You see the slope over there?"
Rai glanced at the steep incline, her eyes narrowing. "Yeah, what about it?"
"Flood it. Drench the whole path with water."
She blinked, then grinned. "Ohhh, I see what you're getting at. Slippery ghosts, huh?"
"Exactly. Ghosts don't do well with water. It'll break them apart."
Without hesitation, Rai summoned a massive wave, her hands weaving through the air as she guided the water from the monastery's reservoir. With a surge of effort, she sent the water cascading down the mountainside, flooding the narrow path where Cole's army was marching.
The results were immediate. The ghost soldiers, caught off guard, began to slip and stumble, their ethereal forms flickering as the water touched them. The spectral bodies disintegrated upon contact, their glowing eyes fading as they vanished into the mist.
Cole, watching from a distance, snarled in frustration. His army was faltering, his careful maneuvers undone by the simplest of tactics. But he wasn't finished yet.
"Fall back!" he barked, his voice echoing through the air. "Retreat!"
The remaining ghost soldiers began to withdraw, moving back down the mountain toward the Temple of Airjitzu. Cole's banner, once towering and imposing, sagged slightly in the wind as his forces scattered.
Arson and Rai stood at the gates of the monastery, watching the retreat. Arson's chest heaved with exertion, his fire still burning in his hands. Rai, grinning from ear to ear, flicked a few droplets of water off her fingers.
"That... was awesome," she said breathlessly.
Wu approached them, his calm demeanor unwavering despite the battle that had just taken place. "Your plan worked," he said quietly, nodding toward Arson. "Cole was overconfident. You used that against him."
Arson nodded, though his expression remained grim. "He'll be back. This was just a test. He's not going to give up so easily."
Misako stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Arson's shoulder. "He won't win. We'll be ready next time."
For now, the monastery was safe. But Arson knew that Cole's ambitions were far from over. The ghost army had retreated, but they hadn't been defeated—not fully. Cole was regrouping, waiting for the right moment to strike again.
As the last of the ghost soldiers vanished into the distance, the green banner above the monastery fluttered proudly in the wind, its message clear: Peace.
But the war was only just beginning.
