Chapter 133: The Dragon of Echigo Falls into a Cage
Musashi Province, Kaede Village. Inside the main hall of the shrine.
Morning light seeped through the paper-thin shoji doors, casting long, narrow stripes of gold across the dark wooden floor. Kobe Hikaru sat on the steps of the main hall, the Crimson Oni Mask resting beside his knee. Its removal revealed a pale, handsome face, etched with a deep weariness that the dawn could not erase.
He was waiting. But more than that, he was watching.
He watched the spectacle of the young woman tied to a pillar. Naoe Kanetsugu.
Her deep blue light armor was even more askew than it had been on the battlefield, its plates twisted and misaligned. Her white jinbaori, once a symbol of command, was now crumpled into a dirty ball. The tight bindings of the rope traced the slender curves of her body, rendering her a picture of dishevelment and defeat. A strip of cloth was stuffed unceremoniously into her mouth, turning her furious protests into muffled, whimpering sounds. She could not utter a single coherent word, but her wide, round eyes, fixed on her captor, blazed with an unyielding fire.
The events that led to this moment were already history.
With the inexhaustible demonic power of the Kanto region fueling him, Hikaru had single-handedly confronted the Uesugi army. He had ignored the staggering numerical disadvantage, systematically wounding or crippling all three thousand soldiers of the southern-bound force before driving them away in a total rout. He had utterly demolished the wall Uesugi Kenshin had so carefully erected in the north.
Along the way, the four Princess Warriors—reincarnations of Divine Tools—had proven troublesome. Yet, even they were forced to retreat in defeat under the relentless pressure of Hikaru's assault. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to capture them alive. He had also chosen not to kill his routed enemies, considering that the resentment generated by a widespread slaughter might create an opening for the yokai of Kyoto.
In the end, Hikaru had only taken one captive: Naoe Kanetsugu, the enemy general who was not a divine reincarnation.
But that was more than enough.
Three thousand crippled soldiers. The blow to Echigo Province was absolutely devastating—far greater, in fact, than three thousand dead. In this era, such grievous wounds were not easily healed. The cost of their recovery would be astronomical, a price so staggering that even a provincial Daimyo would be crushed beneath its weight. With their general captured and their army shattered, the future of the Uesugi Clan was plain to see. They were destined for collapse. Even if they somehow managed to survive, they would never again have the strength to launch a second southern campaign.
And so, the situation had arrived at its present state.
Kikyo appeared at the entrance to the main hall, her longbow leaning against the doorframe. In the morning light, her white kosode and red hakama were immaculate, a stark contrast to the disarray around them. Her jet-black hair was tied back with a simple white ribbon, though a few stray strands had escaped to frame her ears.
She had just finished listening to Hikaru's account—how the northern camp had been nothing but bait, the brilliant island-hopping strategy Kenshin had employed, and how Hikaru had broken the deadlock by himself, defeating three thousand soldiers by wounding, but not killing, them.
The shrine maiden's expression tightened almost imperceptibly. She knew precisely what methods he must have used. The same draining, soul-consuming power he had unleashed upon Kidomaru.
He had shouldered it all alone. Again. Just as he had when he'd single-handedly purged the demons of the four directions.
"You're tired," she finally said. Her voice was as cool and placid as a winter lake, but the words themselves betrayed the current of concern flowing beneath the surface. The land could provide Hikaru with a near-endless supply of demonic power, but the toll on his mind—his spirit—was unavoidable.
"I'm alright," Hikaru replied, leaning his head back against a pillar as if he hadn't a care in the world. "I'll recover after a little rest."
Kikyo didn't respond. She turned slightly, the ends of her white ribbon swaying in the gentle breeze. The movement revealed a tantalizing glimpse of the slender, pale nape of her neck.
She paused. It was a brief hesitation, so short it was almost negligible.
"Together."
The word was spoken so softly it was nearly a whisper.
But it made the pale, handsome Oni Samurai on the steps freeze. A moment later, a smile bloomed on his face—a genuine, heartfelt smile born from the warmth of being cared for.
A faint, barely perceptible blush touched the tips of Kikyo's ears, though her expression remained as serene and composed as ever.
From the pillar, Naoe Kanetsugu's muffled whimpers grew louder, filled with a fresh wave of indignation.
The sound of soft footsteps approached from the side hall. Two heads, belonging to Momiji and Botan, poked out from behind a paper door. Their eyes fell upon the bound and gagged figure of Naoe Kanetsugu, and they exchanged a wide-eyed look of bewilderment.
"Who... who is this?" Botan whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
"An enemy general," Hikaru replied casually, his tone flat.
Momiji's lip twitched. She grabbed Botan by the sleeve and pulled her back into the side hall, sliding the door shut.
Muffled whispers filtered through the paper. "Lord Hikaru... he seems to be getting more and more excessive..."
"Mm-hmm..."
Hikaru chose to ignore them, his gaze drifting southward. Kikyo moved to his side, leaning against him as they looked out together. They both knew Uesugi Kenshin would return. She had to. She would come back to this place she believed was a cage of her own making, only to find that the trap had snapped shut on her instead.
All they had to do was wait.
That night, as dusk settled over the land.
On the rolling mountain paths that snaked through the southern hills of Musashi Province, five hundred of Echigo's finest elites marched in disciplined silence. They carried no torches and flew no banners. The only sounds were the soft tread of their footsteps and the faint, rhythmic clatter of armor plates.
At the very front of the formation, Uesugi Kenshin walked alone.
The hem of her white priestess-like robes was stained with dew and mud. A white veil concealed the lower half of her face, and her long, silvery-white hair cascaded down her back, a few stray strands of black swaying with each step. Her pace was unhurried; one might even say she was taking a leisurely stroll.
She felt no need to hurry. She trusted that the three thousand men she had positioned in the north had already begun their push south. She only needed to maintain her rhythm and arrive at the designated rendezvous point. She could already feel it—the rhythmic thud of thousands of footsteps approaching from the north. An army. According to her plan, the only force that should be in the north was her own.
But as she rounded a bend in the mountain ridge, she suddenly stopped.
The air ahead had changed. There was the scent of lightning, and beneath it, the faint, coppery tang of blood. It was subtle, but she felt it.
The young maiden war god stood at the corner of the path, raising her eyes to slowly scan the gentle slope ahead, now bathed in moonlight.
At the very top of that slope, a figure stood as if he had been waiting there for a long time.
He wore gray robes, and his long hair was a pale, ghostly white. The Crimson Oni Mask he wore seemed exceptionally ferocious under the moonlight. Purple arcs of electricity leaped silently around his body. His hand rested on the hilt of his Muramasa, but the blade remained sheathed.
He just stood there, a single man blocking the path of five hundred.
"We meet again," Hikaru's voice echoed from beneath the mask.
Uesugi Kenshin did not pause for long. She took two more steps forward, closing the distance between them to a mere twenty paces. Behind her, the five hundred guards silently deployed, spearmen forming a wall at the front, archers fanning out behind them. They moved with disciplined precision, shifting into the complex military formation known as the 'Wheel Suspension'—a tactic of layered, circling units that, in this era, only Uesugi Kenshin could command with such flawless execution.
Hikaru, however, showed no reaction. He simply lowered his crimson eyes.
"You don't seem surprised at all," Kenshin observed, her tone as calm as it had been the night before, as if they were two friends who had happened upon each other by chance. "Did you know I would return from the south?"
"I did."
"When did you realize?"
"From the moment you came to Kaede Village alone," Hikaru's voice was neither rushed nor slow, but it carried a weight of absolute certainty.
Uesugi Kenshin studied him, and in those eyes as still as an ancient well, a new kind of interest sparked. It was not an interest in his power, but in his mind.
"You saw through my entire layout," she said. It wasn't a question; it was a statement of fact. Hikaru had indeed deciphered her strategy, her island-hopping tactics. Her red lips, visible above the veil, parted slightly. "Are you here to stop me? As a single person?"
"I cannot stop you," Hikaru shook his head with disarming frankness. "Besides, facing you and five hundred of your elites alone isn't a cost-effective fight for me."
"Then why are you here?"
"To see you."
Kenshin's eyebrows arched slightly.
"To see just how serious you really are," Hikaru continued, taking a deliberately deep breath. He released his hand from the hilt of his Muramasa and crossed his arms over his chest. "If you are simply here to wage war, then there is nothing more to say. We will fight. But if you truly believe you are upholding the 'Righteousness of the Gods'—"
His voice dropped, taking on a conspiratorial edge.
"—then please, think clearly. How many of those people behind you truly believe in your cause, and how many are just refugees being swept along by your momentum? If they die here, caught between you and me, then how can you possibly call yourself a 'Buddha'?"
Hikaru was attempting to shake her army's morale. Faith was born from popular support, and that support was born from the 'momentum' created by a gathered crowd. If he could shatter that momentum, the rest would be much easier. It was the same principle he had used against the undead, except Uesugi Kenshin was not so easily frightened.
She did not answer immediately. She stood silently in the moonlight as the wind caught the edge of her veil, blowing it aside to reveal her full face. It was an exquisite, heroic, and utterly indifferent visage, like a Buddhist statue carved from flawless jade, devoid of emotion. But the light in her eyes held a flicker of something more than it had the previous night.
"Interesting," she said softly.
Then, she raised a hand. The five hundred guards halted their advance.
"The entire army will rest in place," she commanded. "We will wait for the northern force to arrive."
The soldiers sat on the ground without a word, their discipline absolute. They appeared completely unshaken.
Beneath his mask, Hikaru clicked his tongue. It was never going to be that easy.
Kenshin's gaze remained fixed on him. "You don't intend to run?"
"I can't run, and I don't need to," Hikaru replied, seemingly well aware of his situation.
Uesugi Kenshin nodded in understanding. Once the pincer movement from the north and south was complete, the yokai before her could certainly escape with his speed, as could the priestess, Kikyo. But the people of Kaede Village could not. Kikyo would not abandon them. And he would not abandon her.
Kenshin asked again, "Then, you still don't intend to surrender?"
"Nonsense."
A corner of Kenshin's mouth twitched. In the pale moonlight, that extremely subtle curve could almost be called a smile.
"Then let's wait until dawn," she said. "After dawn, when the two armies close in, everything will be settled."
The final word had been spoken.
"You won't be able to wait that long," Hikaru finally decided to stop pretending. He laid his cards on the table. "You are currently fighting alone."
"It is not we who are surrounded, but... you."
As he spoke, the sound of footsteps from the north, which Uesugi Kenshin had been sensing all along, finally grew near enough to be seen.
In the distance, a great cloud of dust billowed into the sky. And from within it, the three-diamond banners of the Hojo Clan unfurled against the night sky, heralding the arrival of a thousand-man army from Sagami.
Uesugi Kenshin: "!? "
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