Grudgingly, Yuudai seized Neko by the lapel of her kimono and, with an apologetic smile, raised his fist. Before he could take a swing at her, she grabbed his hand and compressed his thumb into a lock. Strong as he was, the pain crippled Yuudai. As he tried to strike, Neko stamped on his lead foot and drove the tip of her own thumb into the side of his ribs – just as Miyuki had taught her to. Boshi-ken, Finger Sword Fist, was one of the ninja’s Sixteen Secret Fist techniques and was devastatingly effective. Grunting with more pain, Yuudai doubled over and lost his balance. Still holding on to his hand, Neko gave Yuudai’s wrist a sharp twist and he was thrown backwards. She then pinned him to the ground with an arm lock.

‘Even the smallest ant can bring down the biggest tree,’ said Miyuki proudly, as the women stared in awe of Neko’s effortless defeat of the muscular boy. ‘Ninjutsu isn’t about size or strength; it’s about skill and technique. You’re all capable of this.’

Empowered by the demonstration, the women couldn’t wait to attempt it themselves. Miyuki partnered them up and began to instruct her eager students. Meanwhile, Neko, mortified at hurting Yuudai, offered her hand to help him up. Yuudai readily accepted, only to pull her to the ground and playfully shove a handful of snow in her face. Rolling away, Neko burst into silent giggles. She hurriedly gathered snow for a retaliation attack. But Yuudai had already scooped up a huge ball and was about to launch it, when a hail of snowballs pummelled him from behind.

‘Teamwork helps too!’ Miyuki cried, catching Yuudai full in the face.

Laughing, Yuudai begged for mercy as the women villagers drove him back with snowball after snowball. His loyal Barricade unit dropped their spears and joined in the fight, sending a barrage of snowballs in a counter-attack at the women.

Jack left them to their antics, pleased to see some light-hearted fun in the village for once.

In the far corner of the field, Hayato had begun the training in kenjutsu, the Art of the Sword. Jack hurried over to his half of the students, who were waiting patiently for his instruction. As there hadn’t been enough swords for every man in the village, a small group of farmers had been selected to become the Sword unit. Each of them had been given either a katana or a shorter wakizashi. Jack would have preferred them all to start with a bokken, a wooden sword being far safer for a beginner than a live blade. But with little more than ten days before the black moon, there simply wasn’t time. So he decided to instil in his students a healthy respect for the samurai sword from the very beginning. Picking up a length of bamboo, Jack said, ‘This is as tough as the bones in your body.’