Chapter 110: The Fleeing Masakage, Could There Really Be a God?
Purple arcs of lightning collided head-on with the stone hammer.
A shockwave erupted from the point of impact, tearing the grass from the earth in a violent, expanding circle. Dirt and debris sprayed in all directions as the very air within a five-yard radius distorted into visible, shimmering ripples.
Hikaru's heels plowed two deep furrows into the ground, his entire body shoved back three steps by the sheer force of the blow.
The blade of Muramasa hummed, a high-frequency tremor running through the steel. It wasn't from a disparity in strength. It was something else, a quality transmitted from the stone hammer that he had felt before.
A weight that transcended the purely physical.
It was as if he hadn't blocked a hammer, but had instead caught an entire mountain pressing down on the spine of his blade.
But that wasn't even the most troublesome part.
The moment they clashed, the cracks carved with Sanskrit characters on the hammer's surface flared to life. Golden light poured from the complex patterns, transforming into a dense swarm of characters that crawled like living things along Muramasa's blade, slithering toward his wrist.
The instant the golden script touched his bone armor, Hikaru felt his arm plummet.
He was pinned.
It felt as if invisible chains had erupted from the ground, binding his wrist, his elbow, and his shoulder in sequence. They sought to nail him to this very spot, to forbid him from ever moving another inch.
Immovable.
The word flashed through Hikaru's mind. Fudō Myō-ō. The Immovable Wisdom King. In history, he was the deity worshipped by the head of the Takeda Clan, the "Tiger of Kai," who was herself said to be Fudō Myō-ō's incarnation.
He was the chief of the Five Great Wisdom Kings of Buddhism, the principal protector of Esoteric Shingon. His right hand wielded a sword to sever worldly vexations, his left held a rope to bind evil spirits, and he sat enthroned upon a great stone, wreathed in the sacred flames of the Garuda.
The name Fudō Myō-ō never meant that the wielder could not move.
It meant that all enemies before him would be rendered unable to move.
This was the power of the stone hammer. Binding. Immobilization. A weapon that nailed its target to the very earth.
At the same time, a searing heat seeped from the surface of his bone armor, penetrating deep within wherever the golden characters passed. This was no ordinary fire. It was a burning specifically aimed at the supernatural, originating from the same source as the power on Kakizaki Kageie's blade—the power that had weakened his Yao Qi and suppressed his demonic nature. Yet this was far more intense, far more aggressive.
It felt as if it wanted to scorch the Yao Qi from his very flesh and bones, strand by agonizing strand.
—However.
His Thunder Muscle was not just for show.
Hikaru's pupils flashed crimson. The lightning coiled within his body, needing no conscious command, went berserk the very instant the binding force descended. Countless purple arcs exploded from beneath his skin like enraged serpents, spreading down his arms and across his blade.
The lightning struck the golden characters.
The script shattered. That immovable binding was forcibly torn asunder by the raw, untamed electricity.
In a flash, Hikaru's body was his own again.
He kicked off the ground, his entire form launching forward like a cannonball. Muramasa slashed diagonally upward in a reverse kesa-giri, its blade wreathed in violet lightning, aimed straight for the waist of the red-haired warrior princess on horseback.
Simultaneously, bone spikes drilled out from his elbows, and three white bone spears shot toward his opponent's left side—the opening she had exposed with the hammer's backswing.
Yamagata Masakage's reaction was not slow in the slightest.
She didn't try to parry with the hammer; the weapon was too heavy, its momentum too great to be redirected so quickly. Instead, she chose a more direct method.
She released her right hand from the hammer's haft.
Her freed palm, encased in a crimson gauntlet, slapped directly onto the spine of Muramasa's blade. The moment her palm made contact, golden light bloomed once more as the immovable binding force surged through the steel, attempting to freeze Hikaru's assault.
But the lightning crackling on Muramasa struck back in the same instant.
Gold and purple clashed on the blade's surface, the two energies vibrating the air with a discordant hum. The result was immediate—the lightning shock was so severe that Masakage could barely maintain her grip, her body swaying precariously on horseback.
In that split second, the three bone spears arrived.
At the critical moment, Masakage only had time to arch her waist back, barely dodging two of the deadly projectiles.
But the tip of the third spear tore through the edge of her shoulder armor.
The pauldron shattered.
A bloody gash, deep enough to reveal the bone beneath, appeared on the patch of skin exposed by the ruined dark silver armor.
Having wrenched herself free, Yamagata Masakage gasped and glanced down at the wound.
Her expression changed. It wasn't anger, nor was it fear. It was a cold clarity, a realization pulled from pure instinct.
Her mount stumbled back three steps under the residual force of the blow, its hooves crushing the scorched earth as it retreated again and again, almost instantly exiting the range of Hikaru's blade.
This gave Hikaru a slight pause, and his slowly rising killing intent stalled with it.
The red-haired warrior princess gripped her stone hammer again but did not charge. She couldn't. She didn't dare. The momentary exchange had shown her the enemy's terrifying strength and tenacity. If she continued to fight, she would lose. She might even die.
And so, she decisively disengaged, her nerve broken.
Her gaze swept past him.
She looked at the forest of bones rising behind Hikaru, at the blood mist still hanging in the air, and at the two armies that had been forcibly separated by his arrival.
Then, her eyes settled on the Hojo clan's formation—the lines were still holding, but their commander…
Her gaze locked onto a figure with long, dark hair.
Hojo Ujiyasu.
She was standing at the forefront of the northern army, having left her command platform when she charged over. Now, only a handful of guards stood by her side.
Yamagata Masakage's eyes darted around, her mind racing. What was her mission? Her lord had said… reinforce the Hojo, repel the Imagawa. If that failed, then rescue Hojo Ujiyasu.
In any case, it was not to fight to the death with some outrageously strong monster of unknown origin.
"I am not your match…" she said in a low voice, as if to Hikaru, but also to herself. "However, this will be enough!"
Then, she moved.
Her speed was outrageous. The horse was the size of a rhinoceros and logically shouldn't have possessed such swiftness, but it bolted forward as if the very ground beneath its hooves was actively propelling it.
—The other side of Fudō Myō-ō's power.
It didn't just bind enemies. It could also make one's own foundation more stable, one's footing more solid. Upon the boulder, not a single step back.
And when the boulder itself was moving, who could possibly stop a walking mountain?
Hikaru reacted with extreme speed, driving his Thunder Muscle and kicking off the ground to pursue. But he only took two steps before stopping dead in his tracks.
He saw Yamagata Masakage's target. He saw her action.
"Wait—what are you—"
Hojo Ujiyasu's words were cut short.
An arm clad in crimson armor reached over, scooping her up from the ground like a bundle of straw and tucking her directly under an armpit. Ujiyasu's long hair was instantly disheveled, and her armor scraped against her captor's with a harsh screech.
Her feet left the ground.
She had been lifted up.
The de facto ruler of Musashi and Sagami Provinces, the woman in the Kanto region who most detested taking risks, was now being carried like a kitten by the scruff of its neck, her limbs dangling uselessly in the air.
"Retreat, everyone—!" Yamagata Masakage's voice shook the battlefield.
She didn't even look back.
The massive black horse neighed and charged with its full might toward the western hills. Behind her, three or four hundred cavalrymen of the Takeda Red Corps wheeled their mounts in perfect unison, following their commander in flawless order.
The thunder of iron hooves trampling the earth faded from near to far, quickly vanishing, leaving only churned-up soil and dissipating dust in their wake.
From within the dust cloud, Hojo Ujiyasu's furious shouts could be faintly heard.
"Put me down! I am the head of the Hojo Clan! You bastard woman—I am an ally of your Lord!"
"Don't move. The ride is bumpy."
"You damn woman, who in the hell sent you?!"
"Takeda Red Corps, Yamagata Masakage. Ordered by my lord to provide reinforcements. Don't struggle. If you fall, you'll land on your face."
"I didn't ask you to come—"
"Your northern outpost was breached by Echigo. Do you think you have the right to be picky right now?"
The voices grew more and more distant, eventually disappearing completely over the western hills.
The battlefield fell quiet—perhaps too quiet.
The soldiers of both armies stared at each other in stunned silence. The commander of the Hojo army had just been snatched away by her own reinforcements, while the rear of the Imagawa army had been punched clean through.
And the monster in the crimson oni mask, standing between the two armies… was looking at the dissipating dust in the west with a dazed expression.
To be honest, Hikaru hadn't quite processed it all himself.
He had prepared the lightning. He had prepared the bone forest. He had prepared the grand spectacle of a hundred demons holding the line.
And the Takeda had arrived, thrown a single punch, decided they couldn't win, and then turned around to snatch Hojo Ujiyasu and run for the hills.
The entire affair was over in moments.
"This…"
Yura of the Hair, cradled in his arms, was the first to comment. "Their methods are even more brutal than yours."
Hikaru ignored her, his gaze falling to the other side.
To the south. In the ranks of the Imagawa army.
A sound was rising. It was very soft at first, but on the eerily quiet battlefield, it was exceptionally clear.
It was laughter.
Uncontrollable, nearly hysterical laughter.
Imagawa Yoshimoto sat on her horse, one hand covering her mouth, the other pressing against her stomach as her shoulders shook violently. The twelve layers of her magnificent kimono swayed with her trembling, and the golden butterfly ornament in her hair jingled with every spasm.
"Hahahaha—"
She finally couldn't hold it back any longer and burst into a peal of loud, unrestrained laughter.
"That stupid woman, Hojo Ujiyasu… got carried away tucked under someone's arm—hahahaha—"
"That look on her face… it was simply… hahahahaha—"
The maid beside her turned pale with fear, wanting to support her mistress but not daring to touch her. Yoshimoto laughed until she was swaying back and forth, nearly toppling from her horse.
But she didn't care at all.
She laughed for a full quarter of an hour.
Hikaru withdrew his gaze, in no mood to share in the amusement of Suruga's ruler. His attention was now entirely focused on something else.
The system panel.
The moment the clash had occurred, a translucent screen had popped up before him.
[Capture Target Detected]
[Quality:???]
[Current Favorability: 0]
[Description: Within her body exists a power that is neither human nor demonic; it is intense and concrete. That power possesses the attributes of 'sealing'and'suppression,' specifically targeting all supernatural entities—but she has realized the gap in strength between you, does not wish to be your enemy, and only wants to run away.]
Hikaru stared at the text. "..."
Another one.
Another warrior princess wielding a 'Divine Artifact.'
It was the same with Uesugi, and now it was the same with Takeda.
So, that meant…
Were the great female warlords of this era truly all incarnations of gods and buddhas, descended to earth with their divine weapons manifested as human beings?
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