Chapter 170: The Young Lady Lord Was Scared into a Squeak
"Abnormal Yao Qi reactions."
Imagawa Yoshimoto repeated the words slowly, tasting the syllables. Her voice wasn't loud, yet it rang with such crystalline clarity through the spacious hall that it felt as though the words were physically carved into the chilled air.
Without missing a beat, she tilted her head, her tone shifting to one of mild, almost innocent curiosity. "And where exactly in Kanto are these Yao Qi reactions you speak of?"
Tsuchimikado Koketsu flinched. Her knuckles turned white as her fingers tightened convulsively around the bamboo scroll resting on her lap. The young Onmyoji kept her large, amber eyes glued to the woven fibers of the tatami mat, unable to meet the daimyo's gaze.
"Throughout Suruga Province..." Koketsu began, her voice trembling slightly. "As well as parts of the neighboring Musashi and Sagami provinces. A month ago, the Onmyo Bureau's celestial observatory detected an abnormal, massive surge in Yao Qi concentration drifting toward Kanto. There are obvious signs of demon gatherings in multiple locations, and—"
She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing as she hesitated.
"And, I saw them with my own eyes on the way here. There are shrines." She paused, the weight of her next words hanging heavy in the room. "Shrines specifically dedicated to demons."
Her voice dwindled to a fragile whisper, but the implication struck like a war drum.
The Onmyo Bureau knew.
They were fully aware that demon shrines were being erected on a massive scale across Suruga and Sagami. They knew someone in a position of supreme authority was using official clan power to actively encourage human populations to worship these yokai. Most dangerously, they knew that 'Fear' was being systematically harvested and collected.
Yoshimoto's expression remained an impenetrable mask of porcelain serenity. With a crisp rustle, her elegant folding fan unfurled, rising to conceal the lower half of her face. Only her exquisite, lively eyes remained visible over the painted silk, curving into a warm crescent.
"Koketsu—I may call you that, yes?"
"Y-Yes, my lady, you may," Koketsu stammered.
"Koketsu, tell me, how long did it take you to travel from Kyoto to Suruga?"
"Twelve days."
"It must have been a terribly exhausting journey, wasn't it?" Yoshimoto's eyes softened with apparent sympathy.
"I-It was fine..."
"And the food and lodging? How was the hospitality at the Imagawa Clan's post stations?"
"Very good... I was served fresh rice balls and grilled fish for every meal, and on the third day, they even prepared a hot spring—"
Koketsu's jaw snapped shut. Her amber eyes widened as she realized her mistake halfway through the sentence.
She had been effortlessly led astray.
Yoshimoto's expression did not shift a fraction of an inch. "Twelve days. It took you twelve days to travel from Kyoto to Suruga. In those twelve days, how many provinces did you pass through?"
"...Five provinces."
"In those five provinces, how many were suffering from demons causing trouble?"
Koketsu lowered her head. "All of them."
"Yes. All of them." Yoshimoto's voice was calm, steady, and sharp as a drawn blade. "In Totomi, a horde of mountain spiders occupied a village, so I dispatched my own troops to clear them out. In Mikawa, malicious Kappa were plaguing the waterways, and they had to be driven out by the local lord. Owari—though Owari is not under my jurisdiction as it belongs to the Oda Clan—I hear it is far from peaceful there either."
The daimyo leaned forward slightly, the air in the hall growing heavy. "Demons run rampant everywhere, especially in Kanto. Tell me, when the Uesugi Clan marched south under the righteous banner of demon-slaying, where exactly was the Onmyo Bureau?"
Koketsu's mouth hung open slightly, entirely stripped of a defense.
"The area surrounding Kyoto isn't exactly peaceful either, is it?" Yoshimoto pressed on. The gaze behind her painted fan softened again—a gentle, suffocating pressure that was infinitely harder to defend against than outright hostility. "Your Onmyo Bureau cannot even manage the disasters occurring at its own doorstep, yet you stretch your hands out, wishing to dictate the affairs of Suruga?"
"It's not like that—"
"Then what is it like?"
"The Onmyo-no-kami's meaning was..."
"Your father's meaning," Yoshimoto corrected smoothly, cutting through the bureaucratic shield. "There is no need for official rhetoric between us. Why exactly did your father send you here?"
Koketsu was silenced by the sheer weight of that single sentence.
She stared down, the flickering lamplight reflecting in her amber pupils. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until she finally forced the words past her lips.
"...The Shikon Jewel."
She had finally said it.
Her voice was so soft it was barely a breath, as if she were terrified the very shadows might overhear her.
"Father said that the aura of the Shikon Jewel has appeared in Kanto. The Onmyo Bureau needs to confirm its exact location and its current status." She gripped her robes. "If possible—the Onmyo Bureau needs to take over its custody."
Dead silence fell over the hall.
Yoshimoto slowly closed her fan.
She rested the exquisite bamboo and silk accessory on her lap, revealing her full face. It was the face of a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl, delicate as fine porcelain, with a faint, unreadable smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Koketsu, do you know where the Shikon Jewel currently is?"
"...I am not sure. That is precisely why I came to investigate."
"Then I shall save you the trouble and tell you." Yoshimoto's voice suddenly adopted an air of extreme candor. "The Shikon Jewel is indeed in Kanto. It resides in Kaede Village of Musashi Province, guarded by a priestess. That priestess's spiritual power is—and I say this without a shred of exaggeration—the greatest in the world."
This was the absolute truth, derived from her own careful intelligence network.
Koketsu's eyes widened in shock.
"The Shikon Jewel is impeccably guarded by her. There will not be the slightest issue for ten, or even a hundred years." Yoshimoto tilted her head, a hint of sincere, mocking curiosity lacing her tone. "The Onmyo Bureau wishes to take over? Do you even possess the ability to guard it?"
Silence.
Yoshimoto's voice wasn't loud, yet it crashed down like a physical weight. "If the Shikon Jewel is kept in Kaede Village, it has a peerless priestess guarding it, and a Kishin protecting it. If it were to be placed in Kyoto... how many days do you honestly believe you could keep it safe?"
Koketsu had completely lost her voice.
Yoshimoto stood up.
The heavy hem of her Junihitoe kimono trailed elegantly across the tatami mats, the twelve layers of rich fabric producing a faint, rhythmic rustling sound as she moved. She walked slowly until she stood directly before the young Onmyoji, then leaned down.
Up close, her lips almost brushing against Koketsu's ear, she whispered.
"Go back and tell your father that I will handle the matters of Suruga. The Onmyo Bureau does not need to concern itself with the Shikon Jewel."
She paused, letting the words sink in. "If the Onmyo Bureau truly wishes to be of assistance—just finalize that Imperial Decree for autonomous exorcism. Suruga requires that official status."
"As for your investigation..."
Yoshimoto straightened up, took a measured step back, and returned to her seat of honor. She spread her folding fan once more, concealing half of her face behind the painted silk.
"There is indeed a Yao Qi reaction within Suruga. However, those demons are Guardian Spirits, officially enshrined by my decree, not evil spirits causing chaos. You will see the truth if you take a walk around my territory. The people live and work in absolute peace, merchants and travelers move without hindrance. Where exactly is this demonic harm you speak of?"
Yoshimoto's voice remained incredibly gentle, dripping with honeyed poison. "If the Onmyo Bureau insists on treating my enshrined Guardian Spirits as evil entities to be purged... then you will have to ask the hundreds of thousands of subjects across the three provinces of Suruga, Totomi, and Mikawa if they agree with your assessment."
That final sentence was not merely a political threat. It was a physical suppression.
The absolute authority over hundreds of thousands of lives, the invisible 'momentum' gathered from the collective vital energy of her subjects—it formed a suffocating force field capable of suppressing even dense Yao Qi. Against a mere Apprentice Onmyoji, it was utterly overwhelming.
When Koketsu finally forced herself to stand, her legs trembled beneath her.
She mechanically handed over the bamboo scroll—the original Imperial Decree—and Yoshimoto reached out to accept it with a fluid, elegant motion.
"Thank you for coming all this way, Koketsu." Yoshimoto's tone snapped back to being light, casual, and flawlessly polite. "Stay in the castle tonight. I will have the servants prepare a hot bath and a fresh change of clothes for you. It won't be too late to depart tomorrow."
"N-No need! I will leave tonight—"
"No rush." Yoshimoto smiled.
It was a remarkably genuine smile, bright and infectious. It was the kind of smile unique to a young girl—entirely devoid of threat, yet practically impossible to refuse.
"The roads are not peaceful, and traveling at night is dangerous. Stay for one night, rest well, and leave tomorrow morning."
Koketsu was dazed for a moment by the sheer warmth of that smile.
By the time she snapped back to reality, she had already been gently ushered out of the hall by a waiting maid, her arms full of the fresh clothes and sweet snacks prepared by the Imagawa Clan.
She walked down the corridor in a complete stupor.
It felt as though absolutely nothing had been negotiated, yet somehow, everything had been definitively settled. The Imperial Decree was delivered, her investigation was flawlessly rejected, and any attempt to interfere with the Shikon Jewel had been blocked off like a walled fortress.
She had been fed, given luxurious accommodations, and sent away—gently, politely, and with absolute finality.
However, what the young Onmyoji failed to notice was that the very second she stepped over the threshold of the Tenshukaku's outer gate, a faint wisp of ghostly green foxfire materialized in the air behind her, tracking her movements for a brief moment before vanishing without a trace.
Though the exact reason was unclear, Kobe Hikaru would always maintain a healthy level of lethal paranoia toward anyone hailing from Kyoto.
The grand hall returned to a heavy silence.
Yoshimoto let out a long breath and leaned back against her wooden headrest. She closed her folding fan with a sharp clack and tossed it aside.
Her dark brown hair tumbled freely over her shoulders, a few stray strands resting delicately against her collarbone. The thick, layered collar of her Junihitoe had slipped open slightly in her exhaustion, revealing a stretch of pale, fair neck. The flickering lamplight cast warm, dancing shadows across her tired features.
"All the world's bustle is for profit," she murmured softly to the empty room.
She let out a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples. "All the world's clamor is for gain."
Whether it was the Onmyo Bureau, the Hojo Clan, the Uesugi Clan, or the Takeda Clan—every single faction, every single lord, acted entirely based on their own isolated positions, justifications, and goals.
When the layers were peeled back, it all boiled down to one word: 'Profit.'
But this was the Sengoku period. In the bloody, chaotic meat grinder of endless war, people who genuinely cared about righteousness were rarer than mythical beasts. Everything was merely a desperate scramble for interests and survival. Humans, demons, and even the so-called gods and Buddhas—they were all exactly the same.
Thinking of this, she turned her head, stretching her neck which ached fiercely from the weight of her heavy ceremonial headpiece.
As she rolled her shoulders, her gaze swept casually toward the dark corridor on the right side of the hall.
She froze.
There was a thick wooden support pillar there. And standing perfectly still within its deep shadow...
A figure draped in worn grey robes leaned casually against the wood. Pale, long hair spilled over his broad shoulders, and a pair of glowing Crimson Demon Eyes stared back at her with absolute, unblinking calmness.
She had no idea how long he had been standing there.
Given his nature, he had probably been watching from the very beginning.
Yoshimoto's entire body went rigid.
Her mind flatlined.
For a full three seconds, absolute silence reigned.
Then, the piercing, terrified scream of the young lord echoed violently through the Tenshukaku, ringing out into the night sky and startling a flock of resting birds into a frantic flight.
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