Kyoto was ravaged by continuous warfare, its streets and alleys filled with fear and exhaustion. On the battlefield, both sides, attacking and defending, were at their last gasp. The Asakura army was running out of supplies, and the Oda army was also weary and exhausted. Shogun Ashikaga Yoshiaki and Emperor Ogimachi seized the opportunity to mediate, attempting to put an end to this bloody chaos.
A peace treaty superficially mended the rift—Oda Nobunaga reached a reconciliation with Asakura Yoshikage, Azai Nagamasa, and the mountain monks, and all sides ceased hostilities and retreated to their territories. However, it was clear to everyone that this fragile peace was as thin as a cicada's wing, merely a delaying tactic for the enemy to regroup and brew the next storm.
Oda Nobunaga's list of enemies did not shorten; on the contrary, it continued to grow. Beyond his old rivals Asakura, Azai, and Miyoshi, a powerful force waving the banner of faith—the Ikko-shu Hongan-ji—had also firmly placed itself in opposition to him. The Hongan-ji had kinship ties with the Asakura clan, and Azai Nagamasa had once sheltered its followers; the interests of these three were intertwined, quickly forming an encirclement aimed at isolating Oda Nobunaga.
Just as Nobunaga was grappling with the monks, sparks of rebellion ignited across Omi Province. Ikko-shu mobs seized Minasaku and Kannon castles; Sasaki Yoshikata of Koga rose up and occupied Puti Castle in support; and the Miyoshi Triumvirate, in alliance with the Ikko-shu, brazenly invaded Kawachi Province. Simultaneously, the armies of Asakura and Azai once again converged on Kyoto.
In an instant, Oda Nobunaga found himself truly besieged on all sides. Urgent proclamations from the Muromachi Shogunate poured in, yet this ruler at the center of the storm displayed a chilling composure. He observed the situation calmly, like a lurking beast waiting for the perfect moment to deliver the fatal blow. He knew that Asakura Yoshikage and Azai Nagamasa were two thorns in his side that he had to eliminate on his path to hegemony; without removing them, he would have no peace of mind.
Nobunaga's counterattack began from the most hidden corners. He sent secret envoys with a large sum of money to infiltrate northern Omi, successfully bribing several lords under Azai Nagamasa. The betrayal of his subordinates thoroughly enraged Azai Nagamasa, who tore up the peace treaty and resolved to fight Nobunaga to the death. The peace that Ashikaga Yoshiaki had painstakingly maintained crumbled in an instant.
The Azai army joined forces with fanatical Ikko-shu followers, gaining immense power. But Nobunaga still harbored a concern—the monk soldiers entrenched in the mountain fortresses. He resolved to remove this thorn in his side first, before engaging in a final reckoning with the Azai and Asakura.
In his eyes, these monks who had taken refuge in the mountains had long since strayed from Buddhism. They roamed the countryside, indulging in wine and women, and squandering their wealth—nothing more than soldiers in robes. Nobunaga personally led his army straight to the mountain gate. Although the monk soldiers put up a stubborn resistance, they could not withstand the iron hooves of Oda's army. Raging flames engulfed the centuries-old pagoda; in the clash of swords, thousands of lives, monks and laypeople, young and old, were reduced to ashes. The ancient temple's treasured scriptures, statues, and jewels were all reduced to ashes in the fire. Even the once formidable monastic community that had baffled the retired Emperor Shirakawa proved utterly insignificant before Oda Nobunaga's overwhelming military might.
After quelling the monk rebellion, Nobunaga distributed his territories near the foothills to meritorious generals such as Akechi Mitsuhide. He then went to Kyoto for a brief report before quietly returning to Gifu Castle. The smoke of battle has temporarily dissipated, but everyone knows that a final battle that will determine the fate of the world is quietly brewing in the shadows.