A short while later, Shinji stepped out of the shrine atop the tenshukaku and onto the outer corridor. The night wind rushed into his sleeves, stirring his pale, flowing hair.
He stood there beneath the eaves, in no hurry to leave. The conversation just past still echoed through his mind.
Taigen Sessai's request, he had not agreed to it, nor had he refused. Saying "I'll do what I can" was the truth. No matter how he looked at it, Imagawa Yoshimoto was one of his most critical collaborators at present.
The layout across three provinces, the offerings in Suruga, the resettlement of the Twenty-Three, the expedition of the five-thousand-man fleet, every single piece was built upon the framework of cooperation with the Imagawa clan.
The Imagawa's power far outstripped the Hōjō's. The Hōjō had given him the title of a true god and Musashi Province. The Imagawa had given him actual resources, military strength, and the name and faith of sanctioned worship.
He walked on two legs, neither could be discarded. And compared to the Hōjō, who seemed content to dominate the Kantō alone, Shinji found himself leaning more toward the Imagawa. His enemies… were not confined to the Kantō. If Imagawa Yoshimoto died, his losses would be far from trivial.
And Okehazama, how far in the future was that? Extrapolating from his pre-transmigration historical knowledge, the Battle of Okehazama took place in the year 1560.
He wasn't entirely certain what year it was now, but there was still some time. Enough time for him to grow to a point where he no longer feared the vast majority of human armies. When the moment came, pulling Imagawa Yoshimoto back would be a trifling effort.
The premise, of course, was that it did not endanger himself. If, when that day arrived, he was facing a far greater threat, Hagoromo Gitsune, Muzan, or something else entirely, then he would prioritize protecting himself and Kikyō.
Taigen Sessai understood this perfectly. When she had said "that is enough," her eyes held no expectation. Only calm. The calm of one who is soon to die.
As for altering history… truth be told, he had been altering history from the very first day he crossed over. Uesugi Kenshin's succession had not reversed the great tide, but the details had changed.
Inuyasha's death was even more incontrovertible proof. The butterfly effect was everywhere. Every step he took crushed the original trajectory beneath his feet. Would Okehazama still occur as history dictated? Was Oda Nobunaga still out there? What was the situation in Owari? He didn't know. And he wasn't worried. Hesitation and second-guessing would only strip away the unbridled nature of a demon. Besides, these were all matters for another day.
Right now,
Shinji's train of thought was interrupted. Not by the present, by what lay below. Several floors beneath the tenshukaku where he stood, in the direction of the main hall, a "presence" was pulsing. Reiryoku. Faint, but distinct.
It was not like Kikyō's reiryoku. Kikyō's spiritual power was like a deep pool, remote, profound, and still, so familiar to him now it had become instinct. Nor was it like any reiryoku he could sense through the spiritual vision talent bestowed upon him by the Shikon no Tama.
This reiryoku was naturally weaker than Kikyō's. Much weaker. But it was stronger than Tsubaki's, if only by a little. And yet, one had to remember: Tsubaki had come from the Tahōtō. She was already considered a genius among miko. In other words, if the owner of this reiryoku was not particularly advanced in age, then they, too, were very likely a prodigy.
Moreover, its purity was exceedingly high. It carried a certain… orthodox, pedigreed quality.
Yes. Orthodox and pedigreed. If he had to draw an analogy, the reiryoku of miko, including Kikyō's, was like a wild, pristine spring. Naturally formed. This reiryoku was like temple water that had been filtered and regulated through layer upon layer, clean. Proper.
"Is this… an onmyōji from the Onmyōryō in Kyōto?"
Only onmyōji, who used reiryoku just as miko did, yet relied on far more "ritual techniques" to transform it, could give off such a feeling.
Shinji made the judgment in a single instant. He recalled what both Hōjō Ujiyasu and Imagawa Yoshimoto had mentioned: the Onmyōryō in Kyōto was brewing a new imperial decree. It would grant the daimyō of each province the authority to establish their own onmyō offices and to conduct independent demon-extermination operations.
On the surface, that decree was Kyōto's response to the rampant demons across the land. It was also a form of decentralized empowerment in the wake of Uesugi Kenshin's southern campaign "in the name of yōkai extermination."
But what was the deeper purpose of this decree? Was it connected to Hagoromo Gitsune? Was it connected to the Shikon no Tama? A daiyōkai coiled beneath the very ground of Kyōto, there was no way the Onmyōryō was wholly ignorant.
For them to issue such a decree, to dispatch envoys at this particular moment, Shinji felt it could not be entirely unrelated.
And so he did not immediately depart. The crimson demon mask silently dissolved from his face, his pale features vanishing into the shadows of the eaves.
From beneath his feet, a blood mist spread, an impossibly thin layer, seeping downward along the wooden structure of the tenshukaku. Using blood as his eyes, his perception unfurled. Creeping toward the main hall below.
The main hall was spacious. Dark tatami mats covered the floor. Lamps mounted on iron stands lined both walls, their flames filling the chamber with bright light.
Imagawa Yoshimoto sat upright at the head of the hall. Her twelve-layered jūnihitoe, woven in deep purple and gold, was dazzlingly resplendent beneath the lamplight. The layer upon layer of fabric cascaded from her shoulders, lending her sixteen- or seventeen-year-old frame a regal grace far beyond her years.
Her deep brown hair was bound up behind her head, a few stray strands falling beside her ears and catching the firelight. In her right hand, she held the painted folding fan of pine and crane, closed now and resting upon her knee. Her expression was impeccably composed. The textbook stance of a provincial ruler receiving a foreign envoy.
Seated across from her, was another young woman. Very young. She looked even a year or two younger than Imagawa Yoshimoto.
She wore the standard attire of an onmyōji, a white kariginu over a deep black hitatare, with a haori embroidered with the five-pointed star crest draped across her shoulders.
Her hair was a deep chestnut, reaching to her waist and loosely bound with a black cord. A few strands had slipped free from the knot and lay against the sides of her neck. Her face could be called pleasant, though not the kind of beauty that stunned at first glance. Her features were small and well-proportioned.
Her nose was neither high nor low. Her lips were thin. Her chin slightly pointed. The only exception, were her eyes. They were very large. Disconcertingly large. Their color was an extremely pale amber, nearly translucent in the lamplight, as if holding a layer of honey within.
Those eyes were currently darting everywhere, at the crossbeams of the ceiling, at the vase in the corner, at the resplendent kimono of the woman across from her. In short, anywhere but Imagawa Yoshimoto's face.
On her lap rested a bamboo scroll, bound with a vermilion cord. Hanging from the knot was a bronze tablet engraved with the five-pointed star and the symbols of sun and moon. The official token of the Onmyōryō.
Imagawa Yoshimoto watched this fidgeting young onmyōji before her. Her fan tapped twice against her knee.
"So," Yoshimoto began, her voice unhurried. "A current Walker of the Tsuchimikado house, under the direct jurisdiction of the Onmyōryō, has personally traveled all the way from Kyōto to Suruga… simply to deliver an imperial decree to me?"
"Y-yes!" The young onmyōji straightened her back. Her voice was clear, but laced with nervousness.
"The Head of the Onmyōryō ordered me to convey the following: the Onmyōryō of Kyōto formally authorizes the daimyō of every province to establish local onmyō offices and to independently manage all demonic and supernatural affairs within their territories. This is the original text of the decree. Please, Lady Imagawa, look it over."
She extended the bamboo scroll with both hands. Imagawa Yoshimoto did not take it immediately. The handle of her fan rapped once against the tatami.
"What is your name?"
"Tsuchimikado Kokoro!" The girl answered as quickly as if reciting a lesson. "Daughter of Tsuchimikado Hisanaga, Chief of the Onmyōryō. Current apprentice onmyōji of the Onmyōryō. Dispatched as envoy to the Tōkaidō—"
"Enough." Yoshimoto cut her off. Her folding fan spread open, concealing the lower half of her face. The eyes behind it were appraising.
Tsuchimikado. That family name carried as much weight in Kyōto as the Imagawa name did in Suruga. The Tsuchimikado house was the ruling family of the Onmyōryō. A prestigious lineage of onmyōji stretching back to the era of Abe no Seimei, they commanded the entire Onmyōdō system across the land. Divination, Exorcism, Calendrics, Astronomy, etc alll fell under their jurisdiction.
Only one other family, the Kekka-in, could barely contest them, and even they fell far short. In this age where gods, buddhas, and demons coexisted, the Tsuchimikado family's authority even surpassed that of some daimyō. And the Onmyōryō itself, an institution directly under the imperial court, though its power had shrunk drastically amid the chaos of war, the demon-repelling techniques and onmyō arts in its hands remained an irreplaceable resource for the daimyō of every province. After all, this was an era where demons truly walked the earth.
And such an institution… had sent an apprentice onmyōji to deliver a decree. The daughter of the house head, no less.
Imagawa Yoshimoto studied this girl before her, who couldn't even maintain a steady sitting posture, and understood at once: this matter was not so simple.
"Tsuchimikado Kokoro." Yoshimoto spoke her name again. Her tone had shifted, from casual to formal. "I shall accept the decree. But before that, there is something I wish to ask you."
"P-please, speak."
"The Onmyōryō did not send you solely to deliver a decree."
Tsuchimikado Kokoro's large eyes blinked twice. Within those translucent amber pupils, a hint of unease flickered. "…There is one other matter." She lowered her head. Her voice grew small. "The Head of the Onmyōryō said that within the Kantō there is… an anomalous yōki signature that requires investigation. He hopes that Lady Imagawa will cooperate with the Onmyōryō's inquiry."
Anomalous yōki signature. Those three words hung in the great hall for three full seconds. Imagawa Yoshimoto's fan snapped shut.