Several days later. Owari Province. Kiyosu Castle.
Upon the plaza before the tenshukaku, banners snapped and rippled in the morning wind. Imagawa Yoshimoto's army had already completed its takeover of the entirety of Owari Province. It had also accepted the oath of fealty from the Saitō clan of Mino.
The Takeda's opportunistic incursion had also naturally retreated with the sudden transformation of Mount Hakurei, unable to achieve its aims. The main Imagawa force of nine thousand was garrisoned both within and beyond the castle walls. From ashigaru to mounted samurai, the defenses were layered and thorough. Provisions and supplies had filled three entire storehouses.
Yoshimoto stood upon the highest corridor of the tenshukaku. She had long since changed back into her immaculate twelve-layered kimono. Deep purple and gold thread. Layer upon layer. Her hair ornaments were once again properly pinned. Her folding fan was in her hand.
She had regained the dignity befitting the ruler of three provinces. No the ruler of five provinces now.
Below the plaza, Oda Nobuna leaned against the base of the stone wall. Her golden hair was tied back into a rough ponytail with a strip of tattered cloth. Bandages were wrapped around her bare feet. Her golden slit-pupils stared up at the Imagawa banner overhead.
The expression on her face hovered somewhere between having swallowed a fly and desperately restraining herself from setting everything on fire. But what Oda Nobuna did not know... was that her "divine artifacts" had, in truth, already "changed their hearts."
Shibata Katsuie stood behind her. Her gray-iron great axe was planted in the ground. Her amber eyes gazed elsewhere, pretending not to see her lord gnashing her teeth. Her Affection had risen steadily and now stood at fifty-three points.
As long as she remained within the sphere of Shinji's "influence," it would always count. Maeda Toshiie crouched in the corner, gnawing on dried rations. Her large eyes spun round and round. Although her Affection was not high, merely in the single digits, she, too, had been "unlocked." After all, she had been "fed."
Beyond that, there was also… Niwa Nagahide knelt to one side. Her long hair was bound in a low bun behind her head. Her refined, composed features were utterly serene. The very day she had been captured, she had proactively handed over all of Kiyosu Castle's account ledgers, military provisions maps, and supply inventories. Her organization was so meticulous that even the Imagawa administrators could find no fault.
"Sister Manmi is so calm," Toshiie muttered under her breath. Niwa Nagahide glanced sideways. "A loss is a loss. The accounts must still be settled properly. And besides, that Lord Demon God has actually treated us quite well, hasn't he?"
At these words, the flames within Nobuna's golden pupils flickered twice. Her voice was pressed very low. "A loss? I didn't lose. It's only temporary." No one picked up her words. But everyone knew she spoke from the heart.
For someone like Oda Nobuna, submission was merely a temporary measure. The words gekokujō, the low overthrowing the high, were carved into the very marrow of her bones. As long as she still lived. As long as the hellfire of the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven still burned, she would never truly admit defeat.
To this, Yoshimoto, descending from the tenshukaku, cared not in the slightest. Because now, she had Shinji. She feared no supernatural force! And Shinji, who also understood this, stood at the edge of the plaza, his back against an old pine. His three blades were all at the ready.
He also didn't care. In fact, the way he looked at Nobuna was like looking at a walking, breathing treasure basin. Yes. A treasure basin. Or rather, a gu vessel. He intended to cultivate her. To let Nobuna do what she did best, conquest. Plunder. Using the nature of the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven to devour the Guardian Spirits of those she defeated.
The more she killed, the stronger she became. And once she had been fattened up sufficiently, he would then pluck the Guardian Spirits from her body. After the Twelfth Transformation's Return to One, he had confirmed one thing: acquiring Guardian Spirits could strengthen his Twelfth Transformation form. Not merely Vajra, Leopard-Tail, and Celestial-Eye. If he continued to feed her… then his Māra Transformation, would only grow even mightier.
The Māra Transformation. That was the official name he had given his Twelfth Transformation. A Māra, neither dead nor alive. Both human and demon. Of course, Guardian Spirits were one avenue. The divine artifacts under her command were another.
Shinji didn't even need to take them away. All he needed was for them to remain, in name, under his command within Yoshimoto's army. That would maintain the designation of "commanding" them, and continuously accrue their Affection and the Talent abilities about to be unlocked. This, too, was a form of victory.
Nobuna had no idea she was being planned out as a breeding farm. She merely felt that the way that yōkai was looking at her was somewhat strange. "What are you looking at?" Nobuna huffed. Shinji withdrew his gaze and ignored her.
Upon the plaza, Yoshimoto walked up to Shinji. Her deep purple and gold-threaded kimono was exceptionally resplendent beneath the sunlight. Her petite, slender frame was made even more delicate and exquisite by the layered hems. The collar, with the rise and fall of her steps, had loosened faintly, revealing a sliver of the curve of her collarbone. Her folding fan spread open, veiling the lower half of her face, revealing only a pair of eyes that were far too bright.
She knew Shinji would be leaving today. Her crisis had been resolved. The sudden incident of Mount Hakurei had also concluded perfectly. Naturally, Shinji had to return. The reason he had lingered these past few days was merely to confirm certain matters. Now that everything was settled, it was time for him to depart.
"Next—" Yoshimoto folded her fan and turned toward Shinji. Her tone shifted to something entirely different from moments before. Less of a daimyō's authority. More of a young girl's earnestness.
"Wait until I march on the capital!" she declared with righteous conviction. "From Owari westward, Ise, Ōmi, Kyōto!" Her folding fan pointed toward the western horizon.
"Once I reach Kyōto, your shrine will no longer be the guardian deity of just these Kantō provinces. It will be the guardian deity of all under heaven!"
Matsudaira Motoyasu, crouched behind the supply cart flipping through her ledger, blinked twice behind her round spectacles at these words. She still very much wanted to say it wouldn't be that easy. But seeing her lord radiating such absolute confidence, she silently shut her mouth.
Shinji looked at Yoshimoto. The young daimyō stood upon the stone steps. The morning light streamed from behind her, tracing the silhouette of her deep purple and silver-threaded kimono with a rim of pale gold. She was waiting for him to speak.
"Mn. Do your best." Shinji turned away after speaking those three words.
Yoshimoto's expression froze. "Th-that's it?" She chased after him two steps, her sandals slapping against the stone. "I'm talking about marching on the capital! On the capital! This is—"
"I know. I'll be waiting for your good news." Shinji didn't look back. From the other side of the plaza, Kikyō, who had been waiting for a while within sight, walked over. Her longbow was slung behind her back. Her white uwagi and crimson hakama were so immaculate in the morning light they almost stung the eyes.
"Time to go home." Kikyō spoke only four words as she passed by Shinji's side. Her pace was neither fast nor slow.
Yoshimoto gritted her teeth and followed. "Wait!" She circled around to block Shinji's path. The hem of her deep purple and silver-threaded kimono swayed with her abrupt halt. Both hands clutched her folding fan against her chest. Her lips parted slightly, as though she wanted to say something, yet couldn't. Her face had already begun to flush.
"…That thing from before." Her voice was pressed very low. So low that only Shinji and Kikyō, less than three paces away, could hear. "You said… you wouldn't give up."
"So...." She tilted her head up at him. Within her bright, luminous eyes were unwillingness and anticipation. Her lips moved faintly. The posture of requesting a kiss had already been struck, her chin lifted. Her eyes half-closed.
Over these past few days, she had watched Shinji constantly entangled with Kikyō. That look of one who had tasted the fruit and craved it more, had made her grind her teeth in fury. And even more... envy.
Then she collided with Kikyō's gaze. Cold. Calm. Like a deep, still pool. No threat. No hostility. Merely watching her. Yoshimoto's eyes instantly flew open. Her head snapped back. She retreated a step and nearly tripped over her own hem. "I-I didn't—that wasn't—I mean—" Her voice shattered into fragments. Instantly cowed.
The corner of Kikyō's lips curved by an almost imperceptible fraction. Then she turned and walked away at a leisurely pace, heading beyond the plaza. She left behind only a single sentence. "I'll wait for you up ahead."
Yoshimoto watched Kikyō's retreating back, then looked at Shinji. Shinji glanced back at Yoshimoto. Yoshimoto was also looking at him. Her lips were still trembling. Then, the demon warrior sighed and walked closer.
Yoshimoto's eyes lit up at once. Closer. Closer still. His hand lifted, and rested atop her head. He ruffled it twice. "March on the capital properly. Don't die on the road."
Yoshimoto: "…"
Those bright, luminous eyes instantly filled with unwillingness. But his hand was warm. True body heat. It traveled from his palm to the crown of her head, through her hair, and seeped into her scalp. She froze for two seconds. Then she lowered her head. Her voice came out muffled. "…I know."
Shinji withdrew his hand and turned slightly. Just as Yoshimoto thought it was over, her heart brimming with disappointment, he suddenly dipped his head and pressed a fleeting, shallow kiss upon her lips.
Yoshimoto froze.
Then Shinji truly left. His gray robes stirred faintly in the morning wind. The twin blades at his waist clinked softly. Though he did harbor feelings for Yoshimoto, he had not made a move on her over these past few days. Because now was not the time to "devour" this young daimyō.
At the very least, he had to wait until she marched on the capital. Until she touched the position of ruler of all under heaven. Or... until her momentum reached a certain threshold and she condensed her own Guardian Spirit. Shinji had a feeling. When that time came, it would be truly beneficial for both himself and Yoshimoto.
Roughly twenty paces later, he caught up with Kikyō, who was waiting at the corner. The two of them walked side by side. Kikyō turned her face and glanced at him. Her gaze paused for half a second upon his lips.
"I kissed her," he reported proactively.
"Mn." Kikyō's voice seemed flat. Yet she still spoke. "After we return… before you and I… you must 'wipe it clean.'"
"…Fine."
The two figures gradually receded into the distance. Yoshimoto stood upon the stone steps, watching that gray and white-crimson silhouette walk away side by side. Then that sentence drifted to her ears on the morning breeze.
After we return, must wipe it clean. Yoshimoto let out a small huff. "Wipe what clean…" Halfway through her words, she met the half of a round face and a pair of round, wide eyes peeking out from behind the ledger belonging to Matsudaira Motoyasu.
Yoshimoto shut her mouth. Motoyasu ducked her head back behind the ledger. The young daimyō's folding fan slapped against her palm again and again. "Detestable." Her voice was very soft. "Once I successfully march on the capital… I will definitely devour you. Nakai Shinji!" Thus, the human heart was never satisfied.
That day. That night. Deep within the moonlit mountain ranges. A majestic palace stood within the utmost depths of Mount Fuji in Suruga Province. It was a place guarded by jade-like palace walls, shaped like a celestial palace.
And within the depths of this resplendent heavenly abode, a breathtakingly beautiful figure, cradling a luminous mirror, abruptly opened her eyes.
"Mount Hakurei… has vanished."
"The impure energy between heaven and earth… is rising."
"What happened to that Saint Hakurei? Did he attain buddhahood? Or… who defeated him?"
"No… I must investigate. And then.... find my Celestial Robe as soon as possible."