Chapter 221: If You Are a Dragon, That Is Also Fine!
Kiyosu Castle.
When Yoshimoto's army of seven thousand arrived at the foot of the city, flags fluttered steadily along the walls. Bonfires burned as usual in the twilight, and patrolling figures walked back and forth across the ramparts in a rhythmic, unbroken cycle.
Everything looked perfectly normal.
Yoshimoto sat inside her ornate palanquin, peering through the bamboo blinds at the low, dilapidated Tenshukaku in the distance.
"Just this?"
Her voice carried a heavy weight of disappointment. Kiyosu Castle looked thoroughly decrepit. Mottled stones crumbled along the chipped ramparts, the defensive moat barely wider than a shallow creek, and the main keep squatted at a pathetic two and a half stories. It hardly looked like the stronghold of a rising power.
"Surround it."
Yoshimoto lowered the curtain and rhythmically tapped her palm with her closed folding fan.
Nearly ten thousand troops spread out like a tidal wave, enclosing the city on three sides. The Imagawa Clan army was in no hurry to launch a frontal assault. Yoshimoto had learned her lesson well. No longer putting all her forces into a single reckless push, she chose a methodical siege, leaving the southern approach completely open to give the defenders a psychological escape route.
It was a classic military tactic. Surround on three sides, leave one open. However, three hundred seasoned Ashigaru and two elite squads of cavalry were already lying in wait along that exact retreat route, ready to slaughter anyone who broke formation.
The first day of the siege passed.
Nothing happened.
The defenders on the walls occasionally poked their heads over the stone parapets, shooting a few stray arrows downward. The projectiles arced through the air, weak and listless, clattering harmlessly against the dirt. The Imagawa Ashigaru tentatively approached the moat to test the defenses, only to be forced back twice by sporadic arrow fire. They suffered zero casualties.
The second day of the siege arrived, and still, nothing happened.
Figures continued to walk along the walls. The bonfires burned bright against the night sky.
Sitting in the main headquarters tent, Yoshimoto twirled her folding fan between her fingers. Her brow furrowed slightly. The rhythmic tapping stopped.
"Ashigaru leader."
"Yes, my lord!"
"How many times have the people on the castle walls changed shifts?"
"Reporting to my lord. According to our continuous observations, they change exactly once every two hours."
"And the number of people?"
"About fifty people each time, my lord."
Yoshimoto's fingers went completely still. The fan rested silently in her palm.
Fifty people.
It had been two days, and the patrol size on the castle walls had consistently remained at exactly fifty people. The shift changes were extremely regular. Far too regular. A real, living garrison would never be this mechanical. Soldiers were flesh and blood, not clockwork gears. In any large group, some would be early, some would be late, some would slack off in the corners, and others would be forced to cover extra shifts.
The defenders of this castle were moving with the precision of a stage play.
A show.
Yoshimoto stood up abruptly, her chair scraping harshly against the floorboards.
"Attack the castle!"
Her voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
"Now! Immediately!"
War horns blared across the encampment. The Imagawa Clan's siege equipment rolled forward with a deafening rumble. Simple wooden siege ladders were slammed across the narrow moat, splashing muddy water into the air as the Ashigaru charged forward with roaring battle cries.
The resistance on the castle walls was so weak it was practically non-existent. A few stray arrows fell. A handful of loose stones tumbled down. There was not even a single pot of boiling oil poured from the parapets.
When the first group of Ashigaru scrambled over the ramparts, weapons raised, they froze. They discovered that the entire garrison of Kiyosu Castle consisted of only fifty people.
These fifty men were dressed in a chaotic assortment of clothing, many wearing oversized armor or ill-fitting peasant garb. The secret to the patrol numbers remaining perfectly constant was insultingly simple. The exact same group of fifty people had been changing clothes every two hours and taking turns walking in circles along the walls.
The heavy shoji doors of the main keep at the top of the Tenshukaku were kicked open with a violent crash.
Only one person sat inside the spacious room.
She had long blue hair tied back in an elegant, low bun. She wore a deep red kimono beneath a light blue haori, her collar fastened with careful perfection. Her face was delicate, her posture perfectly upright, and her expression completely serene.
Nagahide knelt gracefully in the center of the tatami floor. Several sheets of parchment were spread out on her lap, a calligraphy brush resting lightly in her hand, as if she were merely catching up on her correspondence.
She looked up, her calm eyes watching the heavily armed Imagawa Ashigaru flood into the room.
There was no panic in her gaze. No fear tightened her shoulders. Instead, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Lady Yoshimoto, welcome."
Her voice was light and airy, carrying the polite warmth of a host greeting an expected guest for afternoon tea.
By the time Yoshimoto ascended to the main keep, Nagahide had already been dragged out by the Ashigaru and forced to kneel in the open courtyard. Her hands were bound tightly behind her back with coarse rope, yet her spine remained perfectly straight. She knelt on the rough ground with the same dignity as if she were sitting on a silk cushion.
Yoshimoto walked up to her, her shadow falling over the bound strategist. She pointed the tip of her closed folding fan directly at Nagahide's nose.
"Where is Nobuna?"
"She is not here."
"Where is the Oda Clan's army?"
"They left together."
Nagahide's tone remained quiet, carrying a strange sense of absolute peace.
Yoshimoto's face, however, began to drain of color.
An empty castle. The entire fortress of Kiyosu was left with only fifty decoys and a single strategist. Nobuna had taken her entire army and vanished into thin air.
"Where did she go?" Yoshimoto asked, her teeth grinding together.
Nagahide tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes sparkling as if genuinely considering whether or not to answer the question. Then she smiled. It was a smile as faint and elusive as morning mist over a lake.
"Lady Yoshimoto."
Nagahide looked up into her captor's eyes. "Our lord asked me to ask you a question. When you left home... did you lock the door?"
The folding fan slipped from Yoshimoto's fingers.
Clatter.
It hit the dirt face down, the beautiful pine and crane painted on the paper instantly stained with mud. Yoshimoto's face shifted from grave to a sickly, ashen pale.
Suruga. The Imagawa Mansion.
Her home. Her base of operations.
She had marched out with all seven thousand of her main combat forces, supported by thirteen thousand logistical troops. She had left behind only civil officials, domestic servants, and the elderly in the rear. Because of the ironclad Kai-Sagami-Suruga alliance, her borders were supposed to be entirely secure. Yoshimoto had not left a single military garrison behind to guard her capital.
If Nobuna had taken her twelve hundred elite troops and traveled by water, circling far around the southern coastline...
"Impossible!" Yoshimoto's voice was bone-chillingly cold, masking the rising panic in her chest. "From Owari to Suruga by water takes at least—"
"Three days."
Nagahide finished the calculation for her, her voice smooth and pleasant. "And you spent two days besieging this empty castle, plus the one day of marching to Kiyosu. Three days, exactly."
Yoshimoto stood frozen, the blood roaring in her ears.
Beside her, Motoyasu shrank back behind the crowd of soldiers, her brown eyes wide behind her round glasses. She clamped her mouth shut, not daring to utter a single sound in the face of Yoshimoto's suffocating aura.
At that exact moment, a figure stepped out from the shadows of the courtyard.
Gray robes fluttered in the breeze. Pale, long hair caught the sunlight.
Hikaru stood behind Yoshimoto. His Crimson Demon Eyes locked onto Nagahide, observing the bound strategist's composed posture with a subtle, unreadable expression.
He had already sensed it.
At the very instant Nagahide spoke those mocking words, the invisible network of Fear had transmitted a sharp signal directly to his mind. It came from the Great Kappa stationed at Shimizu Port in Suruga.
The mental signal was brief and precise.
Dozens of ships, coming from the west of Shimizu Port, not flying the Imagawa Clan's flag.
He turned his gaze to Yoshimoto.
Yoshimoto watched his face closely. She recognized that specific look. It was the exact expression he wore whenever he grasped a critical piece of intelligence.
"It really is Suruga..." Yoshimoto's voice trembled, betraying her carefully maintained composure.
Hikaru gave a slow, measured nod. "Nobuna's fleet has already arrived at Shimizu Port."
Yoshimoto's body swayed. For a fraction of a second, the dignified daimyo looked as though she might collapse. But she caught herself, her spine snapping straight as she forced air into her lungs.
She steadied herself because Hikaru's next words pulled her hanging heart right back down into her chest.
"However, you don't need to worry too much."
His tone was entirely flat, devoid of any panic. "Although you didn't leave anyone at your base—"
He paused, his pale eyes sweeping over the tense soldiers.
"Don't forget, the three Imagawa provinces are currently filled with demons."
Yoshimoto blinked, stunned.
Then, clarity washed over her.
The Night Parade of One Hundred Demons.
Nearly a hundred Yokai under Hikaru's direct command were currently scattered throughout the three provinces of Suruga, Musashi, and Sagami. Among them, the specific entity stationed in the Shimizu Port area was the Tono Great Kappa. It was a terrifying demon leader of the Eighth Transformation of Materialization, standing over two meters tall, covered head to toe in dark green scales, with a dish-shaped depression on its skull that stored highly concentrated, ghostly blue Yao Qi.
That creature was no small fry.
And that was to say nothing of the mid-level Yokai and miscellaneous lesser demons lurking in every shadow and riverbed. The Imagawa Mansion indeed had no human garrison, but there was absolutely no shortage of monstrous defenders occupying that territory.
Yoshimoto's expression slowly returned to normal. Then, a complex array of emotions flickered across her face.
"What is this?" she murmured.
"Consider it me locking the door for you in advance," Hikaru replied dryly.
Yoshimoto bent down, picking up her fallen folding fan from the dirt. She carefully brushed the mud off the painted paper and turned her face away, refusing to meet his eyes.
The tips of her ears burned bright red.
She was furious and deeply touched all at once. She was angry that, as a dignified daimyo ruling three provinces, the security of her own home had to rely on a horde of monsters. She was furious at her own strategic blindness. The previous disaster at Okehazama had been the same. She simply wasn't strong enough yet.
But beneath the bruised pride, a warm flutter settled in her chest. He had thought of her safety. He had anticipated the danger and moved to protect her before she even knew she needed it.
"However..."
Hikaru's tone shifted, growing a fraction colder. "Although the Great Kappa can hold them off for a while, there is something troublesome on Nobuna's side."
His crimson eyes narrowed, peering toward the eastern horizon.
"I need to go over and take a look."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out of the courtyard.
Kikyo was already waiting under the wooden porch of the main keep. Her long Japanese bow was slung diagonally across her back. Her pristine white top and bright red hakama looked sharp and immaculate in the afternoon sun.
She glanced at Hikaru as he approached.
No words were needed between them.
The undead samurai and the shrine maiden walked out of the main citadel in perfect synchronization. Thunder cracked sharply beneath Hikaru's boots, while pure, radiant spiritual power surged around Kikyo's slender form.
The demon and the shrine maiden soared into the air, tearing through the sky and speeding toward the east. Toward Suruga.
Yoshimoto stood in the quiet courtyard, tilting her head back to watch the two streaks of light disappearing into the horizon. One was a violent, dark purple. The other was a brilliant, pure white. They intertwined as they flew, moving further and further away until they merged into a single distant star and vanished into the clouds.
She lowered her gaze. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her folding fan.
Beside her, Nagahide remained kneeling on the ground, her hands bound, her posture unbroken. The Oda Clan's brilliant strategist raised her head, studying Yoshimoto's tense profile, and spoke softly.
"Lady Yoshimoto."
"Shut up."
"As you wish."
Nagahide lowered her head obediently, though the faint smile never left her lips. Yet, beneath that calm facade, a deep shadow of worry flickered in her blue eyes.
With that Great Yokai present, my lord... you are truly taking too great a risk.
But she had not stopped Nobuna from executing this insane plan. Nagahide had no other choice. She was a master strategist, but even the greatest mind could not conjure an army out of thin air to defeat ten thousand men. This was a desperate gamble. Burning the boats and charging into the fire.
Meanwhile.
On the other side of the country, the waters of Suruga Bay churned violently.
On the sandy shallows three miles west of Shimizu Port, broken wooden planks and shattered ship railings washed ashore with the crashing waves, only to be dragged back out to sea by the receding tide.
Thick, dark blood swirled in the foam.
Nobuna crouched heavily behind a jagged coastal reef. Her long golden hair was soaked through, plastered flat against her pale cheeks. Her deep red Kosode kimono was ruined, caked in freezing seawater and gritty sand from the collar down to the hem. Her short black haori jacket had been violently ripped away during the chaos, leaving only a shredded sleeve hanging from her left shoulder, completely exposing the dark leather armor strapped beneath.
She was panting.
Her chest heaved with heavy, ragged breaths. It was not from physical exhaustion. The supernatural body of the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven did not tire from a mere boat ride.
It was pure, boiling anger.
Her twelve hundred elite soldiers had been at full strength and high morale when they set sail from the southern shores of Owari. The three-day sea voyage had gone smoother than anyone could have hoped. They hid in secluded coves by day and sailed silently under the moonlight, hugging the jagged coastline. The Imagawa Clan's scouts were entirely focused on the land routes. The sea had been completely clear.
At dawn on the third day, the fleet sailed triumphantly into Suruga Bay.
Shimizu Port lay completely exposed before their eyes. The docks were empty. There were no garrison troops, no defensive barricades, no patrolling Ashigaru.
Nobuna had stood on the prow of her flagship and laughed out loud, declaring to her generals, "As expected, it's exactly as Nagahide calculated!"
Then, the surface of the water exploded.
There was no warning. No ripple. No sound.
The ocean itself bulged violently upward from the very center of the Oda fleet, forming a massive, towering wall of dark green water three zhang high. Deep inside the liquid wall, countless ghostly blue whirlpools spun with terrifying speed, each one radiating a thick, suffocating aura of Yao Qi.
Dozens of transport boats were flipped instantly as the water wall erupted. Screaming Ashigaru spilled from the decks, plunging into the freezing sea like stones, their heavy armor dragging them rapidly into the dark depths.
A massive crack split the center of the towering water wall.
Two gigantic, dark green hands reached out from the liquid gap, ten massive fingers splaying wide. Each finger was thicker than a grown man's thigh, covered in jagged, razor-sharp scales. Ghostly blue demonic power hissed and seeped from the joints.
The Great Kappa of Tono stepped forward.
As its hulking, two-meter-tall body walked directly out of the water wall, the sea automatically parted around it, bowing to its absolute command. The dish-shaped depression on the top of its skull brimmed with concentrated Yao Qi, emitting a cold, eerie glow beneath the morning sun. Its entire massive frame was armored in dark green scales from its thick neck down to its webbed toes. Not a single inch of vulnerable skin was exposed.
A demon leader of the Eighth Transformation of Materialization. The absolute guardian stationed in the river basin of Shimizu Port. A commander of the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons, answering only to Hikaru.
It was one of the three strongest Yokai under his banner.
The beast did not roar. It did not speak. It did not even bother to look down at the drowning humans thrashing in the water below. It simply raised its massive right hand and pushed its scaled palm forward.
The towering wall of water collapsed.
It toppled forward with the force of an avalanche. A dozen ships were crushed into splintered fragments the instant the crushing weight of the ocean rolled over them. Wood splinters, torn sails, and broken human bodies were swept violently into the churning sea.
In a single, casual strike, the Oda Clan fleet lost nearly a third of its entire military strength.
During the chaotic destruction, Katsuie's instincts had saved her life.
The fierce general had launched herself from the deck of her sinking ship the very instant the water wall rose. She crashed onto the sandy shallows, violently planting her massive great axe into the earth. The heavy, gray-iron color of her sacred artifact exploded outward in a blinding ring of light. It was the physical projection of the divine weapon bestowed upon her by the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven, carrying the crushing weight and absolute suppression of materialized faith.
The shockwave of light tore across the surface of the water, slamming into the Great Kappa and forcing the massive beast back half a step.
But it was only half a step.
The Great Kappa slowly looked down at its broad chest, inspecting the exact spot where the sacred light had struck it.
There was a shallow, faint white scratch on its scales.
That was all.
Eighth Transformation Yao Qi versus a sacred artifact projection. In terms of pure hierarchy, the sacred artifact backed by the divine authority of Takamagahara was naturally superior. But in terms of raw, overwhelming magnitude, Katsuie's power was vastly outmatched.
Worse still, the Great Kappa held the ultimate terrain advantage. It was standing waist-deep in the ocean.
Water was its absolute domain.
The second round of attacks came faster than the first. The Great Kappa slammed its massive scaled hands together. The sea surface beneath the fleet instantly caved in, forming a terrifying crater ten zhang in diameter. The ocean rotated and accelerated violently along the liquid walls, creating a monstrous whirlpool that sought to devour everything in its path.
The remaining ships groaned and splintered as they began to slide uncontrollably toward the dark center of the vortex.
Katsuie roared, swinging her great axe with all her might. The heavy blade cut directly into the outer edge of the whirlpool. The divine power of the sacred artifact tore a massive gap in the swirling current, disrupting the flow. But the victory lasted less than a second. The whirlpool repaired itself instantly, the water rushing back in to fill the void.
There was simply too much water.
The entire expanse of Suruga Bay was the Great Kappa's personal arsenal.
Toshiie stood precariously on the slippery hull of an overturned transport ship, her short sword unsheathed, her face deathly pale as she watched her comrades vanish beneath the foam.
"Lady Katsuie! We can't stop it!"
Katsuie gritted her teeth so hard she tasted blood. Her fierce amber eyes locked firmly onto the dark green monstrosity standing in the center of the maelstrom.
It could be fought. But it could not be defeated here.
Fighting in the open water gave the Great Kappa an impossible geographical advantage. Although their sacred artifacts could suppress raw Yao Qi, the Great Kappa wasn't relying on demonic energy to attack. It was simply manipulating the ocean. It was using water in the purest, physical sense. The sacred artifacts suppressed the supernatural, but the ocean was not supernatural. Water was just water, and millions of gallons of it were currently crushing their army to death.
Toshiie slipped, sliding off the slick wooden hull and plunging into the freezing, waist-deep seawater. She thrashed wildly, almost losing her grip on her short sword. Coughing up salt water, she dragged herself onto the sandy shallows and looked back at the devastation.
Less than twenty ships remained intact. Out of twelve hundred elite soldiers, barely four hundred were still breathing.
And the numbers were dropping by the second.
"My lord!" Toshiie screamed over the roaring waves, looking toward the jagged coastal rocks.
Nobuna stood up from behind the reef.
Her golden hair clung to her soaked kimono. The freezing, salty seawater had seeped deep into her leather armor, making her limbs feel heavy and sluggish, but she ignored the discomfort. Her golden, slit-pupil eyes locked onto the towering Great Kappa.
The dormant fire deep within those demonic eyes ignited once again.
"Katsuie, back away."
"My lord?" Katsuie yelled, wiping blood from her chin.
"Back away!"
Katsuie hesitated for a fraction of a second, then lunged forward, violently grabbing Toshiie by the back of her collar. She dragged the younger warrior out of the surf, leaping backward onto the dry sand.
Nobuna stood barefoot on the jagged reef. The cold sea breeze whipped her torn kimono around her legs, sending a bitter chill through her soaked clothes.
She slowly raised her right hand.
Crimson Lotus Hellfire erupted violently from her palm.
But this time, it was entirely different from her desperate display at Okehazama. Back then, the flames had been hollow. The visual pressure had been immense, but the actual destructive output was pitifully low. Hikaru had cut through it with a single, casual strike, cleaving her body in two. If not for the absolute immortality of the Demon King, she would have died instantly on that battlefield.
This time was different.
She didn't know if it was because she had been pushed to the absolute brink of despair, or if the three days of silent drifting at sea had forced her to realize the true depths of her own power.
The Hellfire spread rapidly from her palm, wrapping around her forearm, crawling up to her shoulder, and finally engulfing her entire body in a blazing crimson aura.
The lotus-colored flames emitted absolutely no physical heat.
Yet, the moment the fire flared, all the water vapor in the air instantly evaporated. Within a radius of ten steps, the freezing seawater began to boil violently, hissing and bubbling as it turned to steam.
The ghostly blue demonic power stored in the Great Kappa's skull dish jumped erratically.
The massive beast took a heavy step backward.
It was pure instinct. The primal, obvious instinct of an Eighth Transformation Yokai warning it of a vastly superior, higher-level power.
Nobuna's Hellfire reached a terrifying critical mass. She knew she could not sustain this output for long. She knew that once the flames died, the backlash would leave her so exhausted she likely wouldn't even be able to crawl.
But for this one, singular moment, she was a god of destruction.
The sea surface within a radius of twenty steps was instantly annihilated by the Hellfire. The water simply ceased to exist, revealing the muddy reefs and wet sand of the seabed below.
The Great Kappa suddenly found itself standing on dry land. The protective layer of water droplets clinging to its dark green scales evaporated into mist. The concentrated Yao Qi in its skull dish churned in obvious chaos. It had been forcibly stripped from its element.
Having lost the infinite enhancement of the ocean, the raw combat power of the Eighth Transformation Great Kappa plummeted by at least sixty percent.
Katsuie's amber eyes lit up with predatory glee.
The tall, fiercely muscular Hime-musha exploded forward, her great axe raised high. The Great Kappa swung a massive fist, swatting her away instantly. Katsuie was sent flying, blood spraying from her lips as her ribs cracked under the immense impact. But as she flew backward, her heavy blade carved a deep, vicious gash across the Kappa's arm.
The wound did not immediately heal.
It was effective.
Katsuie hit the sand, rolled violently, and flipped herself back onto her feet. She panted heavily, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground, her eyes burning with fearless, undaunted battle lust. The number one fierce general of the Oda Clan, the woman who would be known to later generations as the Demon Shibata, had never once feared death.
The Great Kappa lowered its glowing eyes, a low, guttural rumble vibrating in its chest. It was growing angry.
But just at that moment. At that exact, razor-thin instant.
A sharp, piercing hum connected from far away.
The Great Kappa, preparing to unleash its full physical strength to crush the humans, suddenly froze in place.
Nobuna snapped her head up, looking toward the sky.
The hum came from the north. From the very heart of Suruga Province. From the highest peak of the Imagawa Mansion's Tenshukaku.
Miles away, inside the quiet shrine at the top of the Imagawa main castle, a famous sword that had been peacefully enshrined for months suddenly began to vibrate violently. Indigo light bled from the microscopic cracks in its wooden scabbard, illuminating the dark room with a crackling, electric glow.
Raikiri · Sōza Samonji.
The semi-divine artifact. The legendary blade belonging to Hikaru, boasting a favorability of thirty-one, which had successfully unlocked its first unique talent: Divine Aura Release.
It sensed its master's call.
Across a distance of hundreds of miles, transmitted instantly through the invisible network pointed to by pure faith, the blade heard the command. It sensed exactly what its master required.
The low hum escalated into a deafening, metallic screech.
With an explosive crack, indigo lightning blasted a massive hole straight through the wooden ceiling of the shrine. The famous sword shot into the sky like a fired cannonball, instantly transforming into a blinding arc of indigo electricity that violently tore through the firmament above Suruga Province.
From the Imagawa Mansion to Shimizu Port, the straight-line distance was over ten li.
Thunder is but a fleeting moment.
And the flight speed of Raikiri was faster than thunder.
Nobuna saw it coming.
She looked up, her golden slit pupils reflecting the terrifying indigo arc of light hurtling toward them from the northern sky.
In that split second, her heightened demonic senses realized the horrifying truth. This semi-divine artifact, radiating the pure, destructive power of faith, a weapon forged specifically to slay monsters, was not aiming for the Great Kappa.
It was aiming directly at her.
Because she, too, was a demon. The Demon King of the Sixth Heaven.
Nobuna sprang backward. Her body was utterly exhausted from burning her Karma Fire, but pure, primal survival instinct forced her muscles to burst forth with a speed she shouldn't have possessed. She threw herself off the jagged reef.
The indigo lightning exploded exactly where she had just been standing.
The massive stone reef shattered instantly. It didn't just break; it was violently pulverized into fine, smoking powder.
The concussive shockwave caught Nobuna mid-air, sending her flying like a broken doll. She rolled violently across the sandy shoal, tumbling end over end. Half of her ruined kimono hem was completely incinerated, and her golden hair was whipped wildly around her face.
She lay flat in the wet mud and sand, her ears ringing with a high-pitched whine, her vision swimming with dark spots.
Then, the indigo sword flew up from the smoking crater. It circled the battlefield once, emitting a satisfied hum, before turning south and streaking back into the sky.
It flew directly toward the distant silhouette of the Imagawa Mansion Tenshukaku.
Through the haze, Nobuna thought she saw a tiny figure standing on the distant roof ridge. It was far too distant to make out any details, but the presence was obvious.
Katsuie scrambled across the beach, dropping to her knees and scooping Nobuna out of the freezing mud.
"My Lord!"
"I'm not dead..."
Nobuna coughed violently, spitting up two mouthfuls of gritty, bloody water. She weakly touched her side, wincing as broken ribs shifted under her skin.
It hurt like hell. But the pain was already fading.
The inherent immortality of the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven surged through her veins, its retrogressive nature forcibly knitting torn tissue and shattered bone back together.
She slowly pushed herself up, leaning heavily against Katsuie's arm. She looked up, her golden eyes locking onto the southern horizon.
Although the distance was immense, there were no physical obstructions blocking her view. With the residual Karma Fire still burning in her slit pupils, enhancing her vision far beyond human limits, Nobuna could finally see him clearly.
She saw the gray figure standing calmly on the highest roof ridge of the Imagawa Mansion, his pale long hair fluttering wildly in the coastal breeze.
She watched as his right hand casually reached out, perfectly catching the indigo sword as it flew back to him.
His left hand rested effortlessly on the hilt of a massive, pale greatsword that was as tall as a grown man.
His identity, his terrifying posture, went without saying.
Nobuna's golden slit pupils constricted into tiny, furious needles.
"That guy again—!"
That monster.
Kishin Hikaru.
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