The tenshu.
The central keep of a castle in Japan's Sengoku period. Where the lord lived and commanded. The tallest and most fortified structure.
This tenshu wasn't tall, only three stories.
But for a minor lord governing only six villages, it was a display that had cost everything.
Of course, 'cost everything' meant it cost his subjects everything.
"Useless! All of you are useless!"
A roar erupted from the main hall on the top floor.
Suda Shigenobu sat on the raised platform, his face flushed crimson, veins bulging on his forehead like they might pop.
In his early forties, short and stout, he wore an ill-fitted hitatare and carried a tachi at his waist. He looked more like a portly merchant than a samurai.
But a samurai he was.
A low-ranking retainer under the Kantō Hōjō clan, granted this harsh, impoverished territory.
There hadn't been much profit in the post at first.
Until two years ago, when he discovered a secret.
He found that if he squeezed taxes hard enough, harder still, the peasants wouldn't resist. They'd just silently endure.
So the annual tribute went from four-tenths to five-tenths.
From five to six.
Finally, to seven-tenths.
Still not enough.
There was corvée labor, military service, road tolls, head taxes, taxes on marriages and funerals… any name he could think of, he collected.
If they couldn't pay, he seized them.
If he couldn't seize them, he burned their houses.
Two years later, his private storehouses overflowed with grain and coins. But the villages under his rule grew poorer and more dilapidated.
Peasants fled. Peasants died.
He didn't care.
The Hōjō only wanted military funds. Who cared how he collected them?
"Calm yourself, my lord!" The one kneeling below was his karō, a withered old man, prostrated so low his forehead touched the floor. "The three villages to the west truly can't pay this year's taxes. The harvest was too poor, and then there was the plague…"
"I don't care!" Suda Shigenobu slammed his fist on the armrest. "Lord Hōjō sent word. They're mobilizing against the Imagawa this year. Every retainer must prepare military provisions!"
"I only have these six villages. Three can't pay taxes, and another one…" His voice faltered, his face darkening further. "Stone Village… what's the situation there?"
Stone Village.
The one occupied by that toad demon.
The karō lowered his head even further. "My lord… the tax collectors sent to Stone Village were driven back again."
"That toad is just…"
"Useless!" Suda Shigenobu cursed.
He remembered that damned toad.
Three months ago, it had appeared from nowhere, occupied the village shrine, and declared itself a god.
At first, he'd dismissed it. Just a demon. He'd hire some monks to deal with it.
He kept a retinue of idle monks in the castle. They usually put on shows to fool the peasants, but in a pinch, they should be useful.
He'd sent three groups. All were driven back.
Those monks came back battered, claiming the toad was backed by 'Fear' and unbeatable on its own turf.
He sent samurai next.
The samurai couldn't even enter. The swamp's poison gas knocked them out.
Finally, gritting his teeth, he spent a fortune to hire those legendary mercenaries.
"Where are the Shichinintai?" Suda Shigenobu asked.
The Shichinintai. A mercenary band active in the Kantō region.
Seven men, as the name suggested.
Each supposedly a master of some skill. For money, they'd take any dirty job war, assassination, demon-slaying. No limit, utterly ruthless. Their fees were outrageous, but they never failed.
The karō looked up, his face pained. "My lord… the Shichinintai are still on the way. At least three more days."
"Three days? Too long!" Suda Shigenobu's face darkened. "I paid them that much, and this is what I get?"
He stood and paced the hall.
His footsteps thudded on the wooden floor.
"That toad eats a person every month. The people of Stone Village are fools, but eventually they'll be eaten alive."
"Once they're gone, that thing will come out and plague the other villages. When everyone's eaten, who will pay my taxes? How will I meet Lord Hōjō's demands?"
The karō dared not respond, trembling prostrate on the floor.
Suda Shigenobu waved his hand in irritation.
"Go. Summon all the monks in the castle," he ordered. "Since the Shichinintai aren't here yet, have them come up with something."
"I refuse to believe that toad has three heads and six arms!"
As he spoke, his gaze swept across the hall's wall.
There hung a prize acquired just ten days ago.
A massive, yellow, boomerang-like object, forged from demon bones, radiating a faint luster.
Hiraikotsu.
A half-dead old man carrying it had passed through. His soldiers had stopped him for an "inspection."
The old man claimed it was the demon-slaying clan's heirloom. At first, he refused to give it up.
But facing overwhelming numbers, he'd eventually bowed his head and handed it over.
Suda Shigenobu looked at Hiraikotsu, a smug smile curling his lips.
This thing on his wall had more prestige than any painting or calligraphy.
Just then
"Report—!"
A soldier stumbled into the hall.
"My lord! Two people have arrived at the gate!"
"One claims to be a shrine maiden. She says…" The soldier's voice trembled. "She says… they've eliminated the toad at Stone Village!"
Suda Shigenobu froze.
Eliminated?
That toad, the one even the Shichinintai hadn't dealt with yet, was eliminated?
"Who are they?" he demanded.
"A woman in white and red, and a…" The soldier swallowed. "A young man who looks like a samurai. Pale face, red eyes… his presence… strange."
That description didn't sound simple.
But at this moment, Suda Shigenobu didn't care.
He was elated. He waved his hand with a loud laugh!
"Let them in."
…
At the castle gate.
Shinji looked up at the structure before him.
The castle wasn't large. Earthen walls reinforced with stone, about two jō high, with banners flying at the top.
The gate was a heavy wooden door, flanked by ashigaru in crude armor.
Ashigaru, the lowest rank of foot soldiers in Japan's Sengoku period. Poorly equipped, low status. Essentially peasants given spears and armor.
Beyond the gate lay the jōkamachi, the town that had sprung up around the castle.
In the distance, the silhouette of the tenshu was visible. Three stories of wooden construction, roofed with grey-blue tiles.
For this era, it was a respectable castle.
Though it paled in comparison to the castles of the great daimyō in Kyoto.
"That's it?" a voice came from beside him.
Shinji turned.
Nurarihyon had appeared beside him, pipe in mouth, his golden hair strikingly bright in the sunlight.
"What are you doing here again?" Shinji asked.
"Watching the show," Nurarihyon said, as if it were the most natural thing. "You said last night you were going to kill a lord. How could I miss a show like that?"
He blew out a puff of smoke, his golden vertical pupils scanning the tenshu.
"Let me think, what was that lord's name again? Suda? Some low-ranking retainer of the Hōjō?"
"How do you know so much?"
"I've been around these parts for decades. What news don't I know?" Nurarihyon shrugged.
"I told you before, this guy's a real piece of work. Two years, he's squeezed six villages down to the bone. His reputation is so foul even demons keep their distance."
Shinji said nothing.
He glanced at Kikyō beside him.
The shrine maiden stood there, white robes and red hakama, longbow in hand.
Her expression was still cool and composed, but Shinji could sense her grip on the bow tightening.
"Let's go in," Kikyō said.
"Mm." Shinji nodded.
They walked toward the gate.
Nurarihyon followed behind, clearly settling in to watch.
The gate slowly opened.
The ashigaru parted, their gazes a mix of fear and curiosity as they watched the them approach.
Through the gate lay the streets of the jōkamachi.
Shinji surveyed his surroundings as they walked.
Shops and houses lined the streets. Pedestrians were scarce, the atmosphere heavy.
Occasionally, they spotted a few ragged peasants huddled in corners, scattering like mice at the sight of them.
But the further they went, the more the scene changed.
Near the tenshu, the buildings grew cleaner.
Samurai in fine kimono swaggered past. Merchants hawked goods from shoulder poles. Women with parasols laughed in the sunlight.
The shops changed too, from shabby general stores to refined sake bars, fragrant food stalls.
The smell of food hung in the air.
Shinji's gaze settled on one shop.
Piles of rice were stacked in front, gleaming white, mounded like small mountains.
Outside the castle, villagers were starving.
Inside, people used grain as decoration.
"The people's sweat and blood," Nurarihyon muttered from behind, a rare note of sarcasm in his voice. "This lord really knows how to squeeze. Cleans out the outside, piles it all up in here."
Shinji didn't respond.
He looked ahead.
The tenshu was right in front of them.
A middle-aged man in hitatare stood on the stone steps before the tenshu, beaming as he greeted them.
"So you are the masters who eliminated that evil demon in Stone Village?" The man bowed humbly. "My lord has been awaiting you in the main hall. Please, follow me."
Shinji glanced at Kikyō.
The shrine maiden gave a slight nod.
They stepped onto the stone steps.
The doors of the tenshu swung open before them.
Inside awaited another world.
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