The panic lasted no more than ten breaths.
In that time, Shinji hadn't even found an opportunity to strike.
A clear command rang out from the direction of the main tent at the camp's center.
"All troops, hear me, form ranks!"
The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a piercing quality, like a bucket of cold water abruptly cutting through the spreading chaos.
"Demons and monsters are confusing your minds. You are warriors under Bishamonten, why fear mere ghosts!"
"Archers to the front! Relight the bonfires!"
"Four divine artifacts, return to your positions! Each guard your square!"
Command after command, short and forceful.
The chaos in the camp visibly subsided.
Though the ashigaru still trembled, instinct from training drove them to grip their spears and run to their assigned posts.
Bonfires were relit. The flames dispelled a corner of the blood mist.
Archers formed a line, drawing their bows and nocking arrows, tips aimed at the low hill to the south.
But what drew more attention
To the east of the camp, a golden light erupted.
A warrior maiden holding a naginata stepped forward. The naginata swept sideways, its golden arc slicing a dozen skeletons that had reached the camp's edge in half.
Bones scattered and crumbled. The phosphorescence died.
To the west, two weaker golden lights also flared.
Two young warrior maidens stood side by side, one with a bow, one with a shield. Golden light seeped from their weapons, pushing the approaching undead back several yards.
The aura to the north also stirred.
An armored warrior maiden stood on the ridgeline, her tachi held before her, golden light protecting her body. The skeletons crawling up from the north shattered upon touching the edge of the light.
Four directions. Four divine artifact powers.
Shielding the camp entirely.
Shinji stood on the low hill, watching it all.
"Fast reaction." From utter chaos to restored order took less than ten seconds.
An army capable of such a response in the face of an undead surprise attack was rare in all of Kantō.
And those four divine artifacts, though their average divine power concentration was lower than Kakizaki Kageie's, their combined coverage area turned the entire camp into a fortress.
The undead skeletons had almost no resistance against divine artifact power; they shattered on contact.
His false "Hyakki Yakō" was easily suppressed in terms of raw strength.
Most of the undead even crumbled before being touched… their demonic aura scattering when touched by the military momentum of human presence.
The condition of Shinji's skeletons, once released, couldn't withstand it either.
By this reasoning, within the range of this military momentum, even Shinji's ranged attacks seemed unlikely to have much effect.
An external assault was impossible; the outer shell of this momentum seemed harder than the inside!
But that was fine.
He hadn't come for that.
All he wanted was chaos. A momentary crack in the formation's momentum, brought about by an army that had never faced an undead assault being caught unprepared.
And in that chaos, to see the strengths and weaknesses of the enemy camp.
Shinji's gaze pierced through the blood mist and firelight, landing on the figure before the main tent at the camp's center.
A person stood there.
The commands just now had come from her.
Not Uesugi Kenshin, the divine incarnate was probably still on her way back.
A young woman, or rather, a girl.
So small and slender that she theoretically shouldn't have been on a battlefield.
She wore dark blue light armor, a white battle haori over her breastplate, and a horned helmet embroidered with an overlapping pattern of "Bi" and "Ai" characters.
Her long, dark purple hair fell to her shoulders, spreading out from under the helmet. A few stray strands pressed against her forehead through the gaps, gently swaying in the night wind.
Her features were clean and well-formed, not stunning but extremely capable. In her brows and eyes was a composure beyond her years.
She carried no weapon.
In her hand, she held a gunbai, an iron fan for commanding, its face bearing a large "Bi" character.
And on her, there was no divine artifact power.
Not a trace.
She was a purely ordinary human.
But the three thousand soldiers and four divine artifacts in this camp all answered her commands.
The warrior maidens beside her, incarnations of the divine artifacts, all addressed her as—
"Lord Naoe! The east is clear. No powerful demons spotted."
"Lord Naoe! The west as well. The undead are weak."
Naoe Kanetsugu.
The chief general under Uesugi Kenshin. Not an incarnation of a divine artifact, yet she commanded all the incarnations.
In later records, Naoe Kanetsugu, with her banner of the character "Ai," was the actual administrator of military affairs for the Uesugi clan. In the era after Kenshin, she was hailed as the "foremost retainer under heaven."
No supernatural power. No divine protection.
Just ability and loyalty.
And such a person, in less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, had stabilized three thousand men under a surprise night attack by the undead.
"The heart of this army is not those four divine artifacts," Shinji concluded. "It's her."
The undead assault had achieved its purpose, creating chaos, testing the defenses, identifying the command center.
The rest was unnecessary.
Shinji withdrew the blood mist and his released skeletons.
The remaining undead, no longer driven by demonic aura, collapsed to the ground, turning back into piles of unconscious bones.
The phosphorescence died. The red mist scattered.
Only he remained on the low hill.
But the fear in those soldiers' hearts would not fade so quickly.
The crack in the army's momentum would not heal so soon.
Especially since, he hadn't left.
That high-placed demon.
That Shura-like figure.
The crimson-masked, hundred-demon king.
Then Shinji moved.
If ranged attacks were ineffective, then close combat.
If the exterior was impossible, then, strike straight into the heart of the camp.
With the purest burst of [Lightning-Muscle Sharp Body], the purest dash.
Purple electric arcs exploded beneath his feet. The soil of the low hill shattered. His whole body turned into a beam of purple light, shooting toward the camp's southern entrance.
The archers loosed the moment he moved.
Over a hundred arrows formed a black wall in the night sky.
But those arrows all missed.
The lingering dread from the undead night march was still coursing through their veins. Their heartbeats were disordered, their breathing unsteady. Their aim was naturally off.
That was the aftereffect of "Fear."
Fear doesn't fade the moment the threat disappears. It lingers like poison in the body, affecting judgment, slowing reaction.
And what Shinji used now wasn't just the fear from those undead moments ago.
But something from farther away.
....
Suruga.
Imagawa territory.
The twenty-three little demons, settled throughout Suruga, receiving official offerings from the Imagawa clan.
The "Fear" gathered from them, through the core of that collective force field, flowed into Shinji's body.
Weak.
But at this moment, when he actively released it, that "Fear" form an invisible field.
Human presence could condense into faith.
Fear could also condense into pressure.
The two clashed.
The "momentum" of the three thousand, which had already been slightly torn, widened.
This was something ordinary demons could never do.
Because ordinary demons, whether low or high, faced with the condensed faith-momentum of three thousand people, had only one instinctive reaction: keep away.
Like that Seventh Transformation ape demon earlier, willing to go half a day out of its way rather than approach.
This was an instinct etched into their blood.
Demonic aura and faith-momentum naturally repelled each other. The stronger the demon, the more acute this feeling of rejection.
Thus, though the camp of three thousand had no barrier, it never needed to guard against a demon's intrusion, because no demon would be stupid enough to charge in.
The Uesugi army had never encountered such a situation.
Never had a demon, faced with the faith-momentum of three thousand, not only not run but actively charged in.
They didn't know how to respond.
Their defenses faced outward, their formations faced outward. All their training was based on the premise that "the enemy comes from outside."
And when the enemy was already inside,
The formations became useless.
Not that the soldiers were weak, not that the army wasn't elite.
It was that they had never considered the possibility of needing to defend against a demon charging into their midst.
Because it was impossible.
But it happened.
Naoe Kanetsugu's expression tightened.
She could feel it.
The invisible barrier above the camp, formed by the faith-momentum of three thousand gathered men, was trembling violently in the direction where that purple lightning was charging.
"Stop him!" She swung her gunbai.
The naginata-wielding warrior maiden to the east moved first, golden light wrapping her blade, intercepting Shinji's path from the side.
The blade arrived.
But the "person" wasn't there.
The moment he touched the edge of the golden light, Shinji's form veered right. [Phantom Step] activated, leaving an afterimage in his place while his real body dodged between the gaps in the tents.
Inside the camp.
Tents were dense, paths narrow.
For a warrior maiden swinging a naginata widely, this was the worst possible battlefield.
For Shinji, it was the best.
Bone spurs grew from his elbows and knees, parrying left and right in the narrow passages.
Muramasa flipped in his hand, blade-light flashing,
Not killing.
To save time, he didn't have time to deliberately kill.
He just used the flat of his blade and the sides of his bone spurs to knock away, push aside, and sweep down the ashigaru in his way.
He only injured and maimed, leaving behind a trail of wailing that added to the chaos.
Lightning jumped across the surface of his body. Any samurai who tried to get close would go numb the moment they touched the electric arcs, unable to hold their weapons.
He wasn't deliberately killing.
But he was more terrifying than killing.
Because he moved through the camp of three thousand as if it were empty, tearing the crack in its momentum wider and wider!
The two warrior maidens from the west gave chase.
One's golden arrow pierced two tents, landing where he had just stood.
The other's golden shield transformed into a wall of light, trying to block his path.
Shinji didn't slow down.
[Bone Soul Change].
White bone spurs grew from his knuckles, forming a spike.
He punched the wall of light.
Boom!
The wall shattered.
Physical impact plus the shock of lightning caused the thin wall of light to collapse from within.
The shield-bearing warrior maiden fell back in alarm.
But Shinji ignored her.
His target had been only one from the start.
Naoe Kanetsugu.
That woman without divine artifact power, yet the soul of the entire army.
Before the main tent.
Naoe Kanetsugu stood, holding her gunbai.
She didn't run.
Because before a great battle, the commander cannot run.
If she ran, these three thousand would truly scatter.
"Northern formation! Intercept!" She gave her final order.
The warrior maiden from the northern ridge responded, her tachi trailing a golden tail flame, slicing down from above.
Shinji raised Muramasa, blocking in reverse.
Clang!
The clash of metal echoed over the camp.
The burning sensation of divine artifact power again traveled up the blade, scorching his palm.
But his expression didn't change. He ignored it.
He simply extended his left hand from his side.
Then.
Boom.
That general retreated.
Pushed back by a single palm, flying backward, spraying crimson blood!
Severely wounded in an instant.
[Spirit-Seeking Bow Arm Change], once launched, inevitably hits. Once hit, inevitably wounds.
With the Sixth Transformation enhancing him, Shinji truly could break through a thousand troops. Ordinary Seventh or even Eighth Transformation demons might not be his equal.
Thus, the army surged, but the center was hollowed.
And so.
A hand.
Five fingers spread, gripping Naoe Kanetsugu's shoulder.
Naoe Kanetsugu's body froze.
She looked down at that pale hand, purple arcs jumping across it, firmly clamped on her shoulder armor.
Then she looked up, meeting the crimson eyes beneath the demon mask.
"Don't move." Shinji's voice came from beneath the mask.
Not loud.
"Move, and I'll shock you."
Naoe Kanetsugu's lip twitched.
But she truly did not move.
Because the electric arcs dancing on that hand had already made her shoulder go numb.
The four warrior maidens, all wounded, gathered around the main tent. Golden light turned the area bright as day.
Though they could still fight, none dared to move.
Because their general was held in a demon's grip.
Shinji, with Naoe Kanetsugu in his grasp, slowly stepped back two paces.
His back against the main tent's wooden pillar, facing the divine artifacts and hundreds of samurai closing in.
"Everyone step back." His tone was casual, so casual it didn't sound like he was holding a hostage.
But he was.
"I have something to say to your lord, Uesugi Kenshin."
"Until she arrives, no one comes near."
Take a hostage, suppress three armies, then turn the threat into leverage, coercing Uesugi Kenshin in return.
That was his purpose for this trip.
He didn't believe Uesugi Kenshin could ignore the life of her own chief general!