Kanbe Hikaru's appearance here was, naturally, no accident.
After coming up empty at Odawara Castle, he had already changed his plans.
The Hojo Clan's main force had moved south, and the Imagawa Clan was marching east—the two armies were in a standoff at Jentaigahara, plus there was the Uesugi Clan army from Echigo that could head south again at any time.
A large area of Kanto was being enveloped by the flames of war.
And behind him, he was still followed by twenty-three small yokai with nowhere to go.
These fellows needed a place to settle down.
A place with people.
A place that could generate 'Fear'.
But in the cracks of war, no village or town would accept a group of yokai.
Unless—someone vouched for them.
And vouching required prestige, and even more so, a display of power.
He needed everyone to see with their own eyes what stood behind this group of yokai.
Therefore, he needed a stage.
The battlefield between Imagawa and Hojo happened to be the grandest stage of all.
Three thousand five hundred people.
The elites of two provinces.
Dozens of banners.
All he needed to do was weigh the strength of both sides and, while ensuring his own safety, do one thing—
Walk in.
And then, let everyone see.
...
Bloody mist permeated, and the bone forest stood tall.
The two armies were forcibly split; the soldiers in the front row retreated further and further, crowding against their comrades behind them, their faces filled with terror.
That figure with grey robes and pale hair stood right in the center of the battlefield, one hand on his blade and the other at his side, purple arcs of electricity silently jumping at his fingertips.
A crimson oni mask.
White bone as armor.
Bloody mist as a banner.
Under the gaze of thousands of eyes, this appearance was already terrifying enough.
But what truly made everyone's breath hitch—
Was what was behind him.
The bloody mist churned.
The thin red mist slowly spread to both sides from behind Kanbe Hikaru, like a curtain being slowly pulled open.
Within the mist, figures were flickering.
First was a crooked, tattered flag.
On the flag was painted an outrageously ugly skull, its lines messy, like a child's doodle.
The flag-bearer was a short, stout figure—the Tanuki Spirit, who had now abandoned its disguise and returned to its original form.
A round belly, a fluffy tail, and two eyes the size of mung beans wide open; its legs were trembling.
But it didn't run; it held the flag and stood there.
Standing behind Kanbe Hikaru.
Then came the second.
Hitotsume-kozo stepped out from the mist, only three feet tall, holding that tattered paper umbrella. The single eye painted on the umbrella surface no longer darted around in fear, but stared straight ahead—staring at those humans.
The third.
The Fox-eared Girl walked out from the deepest part of the bloody mist, holding the tail of the broken-legged Giant Rat. Her two furry ears stood straight up, and the flower wreath on her head was lopsided, revealing half an ear tip.
The fourth, the fifth.
A Two-headed Crow spread its wings and landed on the tip of a Bone Spike.
Half a centipede drilled out from the ground, winding its way to Kanbe Hikaru's feet.
Kappa, Lantern Ghost, fragments of Ittan-momen, a cat without eyes... one after another.
Twenty-three of them.
Every single one had stepped out from the bloody mist.
They were very weak, so weak that any Ashigaru with a weapon could easily kill them.
So weak that in the world of yokai, they didn't even qualify for the bottom of the food chain.
But at this moment, they stood behind Kanbe Hikaru.
Standing within the bone forest, standing in the lingering resonance of the thunder, standing under the gaze of three thousand five hundred people.
The bloody mist enveloped them.
That thin red mist was no longer a concealment, but became an enhancement.
It enhanced their shadows, dragging them out tall and large.
It enhanced their presence, magnifying it countless times over.
Against the backdrop of that mist, these yokai, who were originally so weak it was laughable, actually projected an inexplicable sense of pressure.
It wasn't the pressure of strength.
But rather—the spectacle.
An asura-like existence wearing a crimson oni mask, followed by a group of monsters and ghosts of all sizes, walking between the bloody mist and the bone forest.
The scene itself was enough to strike fear into people's hearts.
"Hun… Hundred Demons…"
In the Hojo Clan's formation, an unknown soldier's teeth were chattering.
"Night Parade of One Hundred Demons…"
This term spread through the army like a plague.
Night Parade of One Hundred Demons.
In legend, it was the scene where the Lord of Yokai led his horde of demons through the streets.
The one before their eyes, although there were only twenty-three of them.
Although it was in broad daylight.
Although those yokai were weak enough to be chased away with a broom.
But no one found it laughable.
Because the entity standing at the very front, the entity who had just split the battlefield of 3,500 people in two with thunder—
Was too strong.
So strong that even if only an ant followed behind him, that ant would appear not to be underestimated.
This was momentum.
This was awe.
There was no need for those small yokai to spread fear themselves.
Just by standing behind Kanbe Hikaru.
Humans would fear on their own.
And the awe condensed from fear was silently spreading across this battlefield at this moment.
It flowed toward those small yokai, flowing into their weak bodies.
Like nourishment.
Like—power.
The Hitotsume-kozo's single eye suddenly lit up.
The Fox-eared Girl's ears twitched more violently, not because of fear, but because of some unfamiliar sense of fullness.
The Tanuki Spirit was stunned.
It looked down at its own hands.
Were its fingers glowing?
No, not glowing.
It was Demonic Qi.
Its Demonic Qi was growing.
It was negligible, but it was indeed growing.
...
Kanbe Hikaru stood among the forest of bones, his gaze beneath the crimson oni mask sweeping across the armies on both sides.
He did not look at the changes in the small yokai behind him.
He was looking at the panel.
To be precise, the panel of the Nekomata Claws in his arms.
[Nekomata Claws: favorability +12]
[Current favorability: 45 (Resonance)]
[It suddenly reacted.]
[For the first time.]
[The aura of those undead—the newly dead souls on the battlefield, the residual souls permeating the air—it was absorbing them.]
[It was awakening.]
Kanbe Hikaru's brows arched slightly under the oni mask.
Twelve points?
It increased by twelve points in one go?
This thing had only increased by one or two points a day before, like an ungrateful, soulless dead object. Now it suddenly surged?
He looked down, feeling the withered black claw in his arms.
It was vibrating.
Unlike the previous unconscious, wooden, dull slight trembling, this was a real, rhythmic vibration carrying a certain longing.
Like a beast that had slept for a long time suddenly smelling meat.
Battlefield.
Death.
Dead souls.
These things were the nourishment for the Nekomata Claws.
It was originally a demonic tool that manipulated the dead; the more death there was, the more active it became.
And on this battlefield, dozens of corpses had already fallen in the recent clash, and the air was filled with a thick aura of death.
This was the catalyst for its awakening.
Not Kanbe Hikaru's infusion of demonic power.
Not the day-after-day patient strategy.
But—the scene was right.
"So that's how it is."
Kanbe Hikaru said in his heart.
This thing didn't respond to gentleness; what it ate was 'death'.
Fine, noted.
[Nekomata Claws: favorability +3]
[Current favorability: 48 (Longing)]
[It wants more.]
Kanbe Hikaru ignored its longing.
He withdrew his gaze and looked forward again.
The two armies were still blocked by the forest of bones and thunder; the soldiers had retreated to a safe distance, but no one had withdrawn.
The Hojo side was watching.
The Imagawa side—
A rider charged out from the southern army formation.
The horse's hooves stepped on the withered yellow grass; the speed was not fast, but the footsteps were very even, like drumbeats.
The rider was wearing a luxurious twelve-layered kimono, her dark brown long hair flying on the horse's back, and the golden butterfly ornament in her hair shimmering in the sunlight.
Her petite figure sat upright on the horse, her waist and back straight.
On that exquisite face, there was a smile so brilliant it was blinding.
Imagawa Yoshimoto.
Lord of Suruga Province.
She rode through her own army's line, alone, galloping toward the direction of the forest of bones.
The attendants behind her wanted to follow, but were nailed to the spot by a single look she gave them over her shoulder.
The sound of horse hooves approached from afar.
She stopped at the edge of the forest of bones.
Imagawa Yoshimoto dismounted, the hem of her twelve-layered kimono dragging on the grass, stained with mud, but she didn't care at all.
She raised her head, looking at the gray figure standing deep in the forest of bones.
Her bright eyes were full of excitement.
"We meet again."
She said: "Lord Kishin."
-------------------------
If you enjoy this story, you can read 70+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
Webnovel will keep getting 1 new chapter every day but Patreon readers can stay far ahead.
Maybe it's not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
[email protected]/Rexlent
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"