In the less than ten days that followed, Shinji had brought more than eighty percent of the demons across the six northeastern provinces under his control, including the demons of Tōno.
His rear was essentially stabilized.
But one matter remained unaddressed.
Or rather, there had been no clear resolution.
That was the question of who should govern the humans of Mutsu and the northeastern provinces.
Though he had not yet formally established a great demon nation in the Kansai region like Tōga had, where demons directly governed the mortal world, his influence was no less significant on another level.
Because he was both a demon, and a "shōshin" recognized by Shintō.
Even without the most direct administrative authority, beneath the oppression of his sheer strength, many things were simply understood.
Therefore, without his statement, the various clans of Mutsu and the other provinces would never dare act rashly.
They would never dare put forward a suitable new overlord.
To this, Shinji did not designate anyone.
Before deciding to leave Kurokawa Castle, he merely said one thing to Tanuki Jūsaburō.
"The demons of the six provinces of Mutsu are mine to command. But human affairs, I cannot manage them, nor do I have any interest in managing them. Whoever can sit in that seat, have them report to Ruri."
Those words were relayed verbatim by Tanuki Jūsaburō to Ruri.
Ruri relayed them to Hari.
Hari dispatched her moth demons to inform the Date clan elders who came to worship at the hall.
"Decide among yourselves who will be the head of the house."
Layer by layer, the responsibility was outsourced.
By this point, the transmission of information had already spiraled out of control.
Because demons did not understand human politics.
Nor did they need to.
In their eyes, whichever human sat in that chair made no difference.
As long as they paid regular tribute and did not interfere with the Hyakki Yakō's territory.
But for the surviving human factions within Kurokawa Castle, the meaning of that sentence was entirely different.
The great moth daiyōkai that had controlled this nation was dead.
Date Terumune lay paralyzed in the great hall, still unconscious.
Though the residual scale-powder in his body was gone, his body, controlled by Menōmaru for years, remained alive, yet no different from a vegetable.
The position of clan head was vacant.
The Demon Who Split the Sky's Hyakki Yakō occupied the castle.
The demonic forces of the six provinces of Mutsu had been swept clean overnight.
In such a situation, whoever could become the agent recognized by the Demon Who Split the Sky would be the Lord of the Northeast.
The winds of intrigue immediately stirred within Kurokawa Castle.
The first day.
Three senior retainers jointly nominated the Date clan elder Endō Motonobu, seasoned, steady, and well-connected.
Endō Motonobu himself, at the council, wept profusely.
"This heavy responsibility, I truly…"
He did not finish.
Ruri appeared outside the council chamber's window.
Purple hair.
White robes.
Light armor.
Twin white blades at her waist.
Expressionless, she swept her gaze across the room.
"Have you decided on your new master yet? The Master is waiting to leave. Don't dawdle."
Her voice buzzed like moth wings.
It sent the twenty-some retainers in formal attire, kneeling in seiza, leaping to their feet as one.
Endō Motonobu immediately declared himself unwell.
He withdrew.
Are you kidding? To become clan head would mean dealing with these demons every single day!?
The second day.
The Ōsaki clan of Dewa Province proposed that their legitimate heir inherit the rule of Mutsu.
Their reasoning was that the Date clan was already an empty shell, while the Ōsaki clan had governed the north for generations as the true legitimate line.
That very night, the officer of the Forty-Second Group of the Hyaku Monogatari stationed in Dewa, the Sixth Transformation Great White Serpent of the Northeast, poked its head above the surface of the moat surrounding the Ōsaki castle.
The height of its head emerging from the water exceeded the castle walls.
The entire Ōsaki castle fell silent.
The envoy withdrew that very night.
No one said the words we withdraw.
Because there was no need to say them at all.
This was, unmistakably, the influence of a daiyōkai, or an existence matching a daiyōkai, upon the human world.
Shinji himself had done nothing.
No need to act.
No need to utter superfluous words.
His very existence was dictating the situation.
Sixty-six groups.
Eight thousand demons.
Distributed across fourteen provinces.
A complete organizational structure, with osore continuously growing.
With a demonic force of this magnitude, even a single officer poking its head out was enough to silence a human castle.
Majestic without anger.
This was the true terror of one who commanded both the human and demon worlds.
To this, there would naturally be some wild mages, onmyōji, or even miko within the northeastern provinces who were unconvinced.
But upon hearing that that one had a miko named Kikyō at his side, they all quietly withdrew.
Some even began to worship.
Those who recognized the times were the wise.
Until the third day.
At the side gate of the tenshukaku, the legitimate daughter of Date Terumune, the nominal head of the Date clan, Date Masamune pushed the door open without anyone's nomination.
Her short golden hair gleamed faintly in the morning light.
A dark navy kosode lay beneath a black haori, the sleeves too long and rolled up at the elbows.
At her waist hung a tachi disproportionate to her size.
The bronze bell chimed with each step.
She walked into the council chamber of Kurokawa Castle's castle town.
Within the room lingered the wreckage of two days of repeated debate.
Broken tea bowls.
Scattered cushions.
Several documents, written and crossed out, lay in the corners.
When the retainers saw her, their expressions were complex.
They looked at this nominal daughter of Date Terumune…
Ten years old.
In the eyes of the vast majority, she was merely a child locked away in a corner of the tenshukaku.
When Date Terumune, or rather, when the daiyōkai Menōmaru was alive and controlling this nation, his supervision of Date Masamune had been extremely strict.
Everyone could see it.
They would not mistreat her.
But now, there was no need to be particularly courteous either.
"Lady Masamune… this place is currently—"
"Discussing who will take charge next. I know."
The girl sat down in the vacant seat at the head.
The seat that had originally belonged to Date Terumune.
The bronze bell chimed again.
"Two days of arguing and no result. Uncle Endō ran off. The Ōsaki clan was scared back by a snake. Who else wants this seat?"
Her amber left eye swept across the room.
Flecks of golden light danced deep within her pupils.
The room fell silent.
After a moment, an older retainer spoke.
"Lady Masamune, a matter of such importance still requires—"
"Father is no longer Father."
Masamune cut him off.
Her tone was flat.
"The thing controlling him is dead. He himself is as good as dead. Everyone here knows this better than anyone. You just don't dare say it."
"So I will."
"The Date clan has been controlled by demons for at least ten years, since before I was born. Every order issued during that time came from that great moth."
"Marching south. Requisitioning provisions. Uniting the northeastern provinces, all of it."
"The orders you obeyed were not the orders of a human clan head."
"They were the orders of a demon."
The air in the room froze.
No one refuted her.
Because everyone knew it in their hearts.
But no one dared to puncture it on such an occasion.
A ten-year-old child had punctured it.
Masamune did not wait for a response.
She continued.
"Right now, the Hyakki Yakō of that Demon Who Split the Sky, the Demon God Who Cleaves Thunder, occupies the entire northeast."
"Demon affairs are managed by demons. That is not our concern."
"But on the human side, someone must step forward."
"Someone must deal with that Lord Demon God."
"Someone must maintain order across the six provinces."
"Someone must ensure taxes and tribute do not cease, the people do not riot, and the clans do not slaughter each other into a single boiling pot."
"Which of you can do it?"
Silence.
"Uncle Endō could. But he doesn't dare."
"The Ōsaki clan could. But they can't even withstand a single snake."
Masamune placed one hand on the hilt of the tachi at her knee.
The bronze bell chimed softly.
"Then I will do it."
"I am the daughter of Date Terumune. The blood heir of the Date clan."
"Though I am young—"
She paused.
"I am not afraid of demons."
Because she herself carried the blood of a daiyōkai.
Though she herself did not yet fully understand this.
The retainers in the council chamber exchanged glances for roughly the time it takes half an incense stick to burn.
Then Endō Motonobu, that old retainer who had claimed to be unwell, pushed open the sliding door from the adjacent room.
He knelt at the threshold.
"…This old retainer is willing to assist Lady Masamune."
The scene immediately became like dominoes.
One fell.
The rest followed.
Within half a day, the major surviving human factions of the six provinces of Mutsu, the core retainer group of the Date clan, all bowed to the ten-year-old Date Masamune.
....
The roof ridge of the tenshukaku.
Shinji sat cross-legged upon the tiles.
His crimson demon eyes were half-lowered.
He had done nothing.
From beginning to end, he had simply sat here.
Beside him, Kikyō leaned against the eaves.
Her longbow rested at her knee.
In her hand was a volume of Mutsu Province records taken from the castle library.
"It's settled below," Shinji said.
"Who?"
"That one-eyed little girl."
Kikyō turned a page.
Her expression was as usual, showing no confusion. Clearly, Kikyō also knew of Date Masamune's existence.
She merely asked another question.
"The ten-year-old girl?"
"Indeed, only ten."
Shinji was somewhat reflective as well.
His impression of Date Masamune came from two levels.
As a transmigrator, he knew the weight of that name in history.
The One-Eyed Dragon of Ōshū.
The hegemon of the northeast at the end of the Warring States.
A conqueror who campaigned his entire life.
As a prior witness, he had, of course, personally seen the look in that ten-year-old child's eyes as she watched the five-armed Shura from behind the window.
Within them, there was no fear.
Only longing.
And ambition.
…But that was actually good.
A child with ambition was the most obedient.
And the most capable.
But in the next second, Shinji's expression suddenly turned strange.
Kikyō glanced at her beloved, puzzled.
"What is it?"
As a miko, Kikyō's perception was keen, but it was keen toward reiryoku, demonic energy, and other existences touching upon fundamentals.
Not the raw strength of physical hearing.
So she could not do what Shinji was doing, seated atop the tenshukaku, monitoring the entire city's movements.
To this, Shinji did not respond immediately.
It was as though he had studied the matter carefully before finally speaking.
"That kid… is claiming parents."
"…?"
"Yes."
Shinji stifled a laugh.
"She's claiming me as her father. And you as her mother."
Kikyō: "…"