The indigo lightning retracted back into the blade. Raikiri was gripped in Shinji's right hand. The demi-divine artifact's resonant hum gradually subsided. The residual faith-power upon its sheath dissipated into fine motes of light, scattering into the sea breeze.
He stood at the highest point of Imagawa-kan's tenshukaku. Beneath his feet, the very heart of Suruga Province. As far as his gaze could reach, the lingering aftermath of the water wall conjured by the great kappa still churned upon the sea in the direction of Shimizu Port.
Shattered planks and tattered sails bobbed amidst the waves. Upon the shallows, the remnants of the Oda forces were scattered, three or four hundred souls. Soaked. Bedraggled. Like a school of fish hurled ashore by a tempest.
"Twelve hundred set out. Barely three or four hundred remain." Shinji sheathed the blade. He muttered under his breath. "Oda Nobuna. This seaborne raid of yours… was far too sloppy." Of course, she couldn't hear him.
Across over forty kilometer, these words were meant only for himself. He glanced down at the System panel.
[Raikiri · Sōza Samonji: Affection +2. Current Affection: 33.]
The long-range summoning had consumed a portion of its stored power. But its Affection had risen. Raikiri enjoyed being used. Especially to strike people down. The personality of a demi-divine artifact was blunt and straightforward.
Shinji fastened Raikiri back at his waist, alongside Onikiri and Yomi-giri. Three blades now upon his person. In his right hand, he still gripped Banryū. The tip of the pale greatsword rested against the roof tiles of the ridge, producing a faint, grating whisper.
He leaped down. From the peak of the tenshukaku, straight into the courtyard. Four stories high. Landing without a sound.
Kikyō was already waiting in the courtyard. White uwagi. Crimson hakama. Her longbow slung diagonally across her back. Her black hair drifting faintly in the sea breeze.
She was facing the direction of Shimizu Port. Her cold, clear features betrayed little emotion. But Shinji noticed that the fingertips of her right hand rested upon the bowstring. The posture of one ready to draw at any moment.
"It seems your subordinate, the great kappa, has been halted," Kikyō said. "And that Oda girl… she seems very unique. When you summoned Raikiri just now, she resurrected again."
"I know." Shinji walked to Kikyō's side. His gaze swept past the direction of the harbor and settled upon those scattered silhouettes on the shallows.
"The immortality of the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven is even more absurd than Muzan's. Muzan relied on regeneration. It had a physical foundation. Sunlight could break it. Nichirin Blades or sustained damage could also work. She relies on the Demon King's power itself. As long as Māra's power remains within that mortal vessel, that vessel will never truly be destroyed. It will keep reverting. Restoring itself."
He paused. "But it's not completely without a solution."
Kikyō didn't ask what solution. She only asked: "Shall we go?"
"We go."
The two figures vanished simultaneously.
On the shallows. Oda Nobuna was finally pulled fully upright from the mud and silt by Shibata Katsuie. Half of her outer leather armor was shattered. Her golden hair was soaked and plastered to the crumpled kimono beneath.
The fabric was visibly caked with sand and grime. Yet her wounds had already healed. The nature of the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven. Even the wound carved by Raikiri had reverted to its pristine state in mere seconds.
The pain, however, was real. Still, she could not die. The first thing Nobuna did after steadying herself was not assess the losses to her forces. She lifted her head and looked southward. Toward the tenshukaku of Imagawa-kan.
The direction that indigo famed blade had flown back toward. The silhouette she had glimpsed at the very end. What met her eyes, was empty air.
"Ran off?" The words hadn't even finished leaving her lips. From behind came the heavy footfalls of the great kappa. The two-meter-tall jade-green form strode up the shallows from the sea. Every step sank half a shaku into the sand.
The deep blue yōki within its cranial dish had been replenished to the brim. It did not continue its assault. It merely stood there, blocking the path from the shallows to the harbor. The master had commanded: hold the line. That was all.
Shibata Katsuie raised her axe and shielded Nobuna with her own body. Her amber eyes were locked dead onto the great kappa. They had clashed head-on several times just now. Yet even at the very end, her axe's full-force strike had only left a shallow scratch upon its scales.
This thing was tough. This thing was strong. Maeda Toshiie shrank behind Katsuie, her short sword raised before her chest. The blade's tip was trembling. The remaining three hundred-some ashigaru were scattered across the shallows.
Some were still struggling in the seawater. Some were slumped beside the reefs, gasping for breath. There was no formation to speak of. No morale to speak of. An elite force of twelve hundred, had been reduced to this state by a single yōkai. Never mind that Demon God, even a kappa was this terrifying.
"What kind of monsters are hidden in this cursed place…" Nobuna cursed under her breath. She knew nothing of the Hyakki Yakō. The Owari Oda clan effectively controlled only half a province. There could never have been any large-scale yōkai organizations within its borders.
Her intelligence network was limited. She had no idea that Shinji had deployed a network of nearly a hundred yōkai across the three provinces of Suruga, Musashi, and Sagami.
All she knew was that Imagawa Yoshimoto had taken all her soldiers with her. The rear should have been empty. Now, she suddenly understood. Empty, my ass! Empty of humans. Not empty of yōkai. What a painfully earned realization!
Amidst all this, the great kappa remained silent, blocking the path like a wall grown from scales. It did not advance. It did not retreat. Nobuna's slit-pupils swept across the wreckage of the battlefield, but her mind was once again racing at furious speed.
She couldn't defeat it. She couldn't bypass it. She didn't have enough troops for a direct assault. Her hellfire was utterly spent and couldn't be summoned again for a while.
A complete stalemate. She was just about to open her mouth and order a retreat to regroup. They had come this far. No matter how hard it was, she couldn't give up. She had to try again.
Hum.
Another resonant hum. But this time, it did not come from the sky. It came from behind the great kappa. From the direction of the harbor. From the ground. The silt and sand of the shallows began to tremble. Fine particles bounced up from the ground, as though something was approaching from beneath the earth.
The great kappa turned its head. The yōki within its cranial dish abruptly fell utterly still. And then, it knelt. The two-meter-tall jade-green form dropped to one knee upon the shallows. Its cranial dish was lowered. Its posture was one of absolute, reverent deference.
"Master," it spoke. Its voice was as deep and heavy as a war drum.
Nobuna froze. Master? Whose master? She followed the direction of the great kappa's prostration. At the far end of the harbor's pier, two figures stood side by side. She had no idea when they had arrived there.
On the left, gray robes. Flowing white hair. Crimson demon eyes. Onikiri at his left hip. Yomi-giri and Raikiri at his right. In his right hand, he still held that colossal pale greatsword, Banryū, which matched the height of a man.
On the right, white uwagi. Crimson hakama. Black hair like a waterfall. Her longbow held horizontally at her side. A face of cold, exquisite beauty. Lips faintly colored, yet all the more breathtaking.
The sea wind swept between the two of them, stirring the pale tips of his hair and the black ends of hers. Them again. That yōkai from Okehazama. And that miko from the intelligence reports.
Nobuna's pupils contracted. Then steadied. By this point, it was impossible for her not to understand. The two-meter-tall yōkai before her had called that gray silhouette "Master." Which meant, the great kappa that had held her back for an entire half-hour, that had destroyed nearly nine hundred of her soldiers, was also a subordinate of that Demon God, Nakai Shinji.
From beginning to end, her raid plan had been blocked dead by someone. No. Not someone. Someyōkai.
A very special yōkai. Imagawa Yoshimoto had taken all her soldiers with her. The rear truly had no human garrison. But this yōkai had deployed his Hyakki Yakō across Suruga in advance. Guarding the Imagawa's rear in her stead.
And so, Shinji stepped off the pier and onto the silt of the shallows. The tip of Banryū carved a shallow trench through the sand. He gazed upon the remnants of the Oda forces.
Upon Oda Nobuna, drenched and bedraggled. Upon Shibata Katsuie, axe raised to guard her lord. The demon mask did not coalesce upon his face. He was even smiling. A cold, severe smile. One that looked more and more human, yet remained unmistakably demonic.
"Taking the sea route. Circling around to strike the nest from the rear. Exploiting the time gap. Striking while the main force is away and the rear is defenseless. Wipe it all out in one stroke." He spoke.
"The plan itself, is indeed quite good." He tilted his head. "Only, do you know the last time a certain daimyō had her rear raided by a fleet?"
Nobuna, of course, could not possibly know. Shinji was not stingy with his explanation.
"A few months ago. I had Imagawa Yoshimoto organize a fleet of five thousand. Using the power of yōkai as concealment, they sailed north from Suruga along the Inland Sea. Circled around and landed on the northern coast of Echigo. Took Uesugi Kenshin's home stronghold, Kasugayama Castle, completely by surprise. Forced the God of War to kneel. Forced her to withdraw her forces overnight and race back to defend. Even made her vomit up the Musashi Province she had swallowed. Sent her fleeing in utter disarray." He paused. His crimson demon eyes fixed upon Nobuna.
"Taking the sea route to raid the rear, you're playing with the leftovers of what I've already played."
Nobuna's expression froze. There was the bitter unwillingness of seeing her strategy fail. There was the shock of hearing his account. But more than anything, there was the dawning, belated realization.
She had thought she had conceived a stroke of genius. It turned out someone else had made the exact same move months ago. And after that person had made his move, he had casually buried a horde of yōkai upon the board, specifically to guard against any who might attempt to walk the same path.
From beginning to end, every single one of her actions had been within his predictions.
This bastard…
"How… interesting!" In this moment of utter crisis, Oda Nobuna suddenly burst into laughter!