The morning after, Sesshoumaru followed the smell of smoke back to the Shiro in which that Woman resided.
Seeing the gouges torn into the ground, he recognized the work of his sire's Tessaiga. Bodies of those who had stood against his sire lined the path to the Shiro. He walked slowly, over all the blood he could still scent his sire, that snake Takemaru, that harlot, and the smell of new life.
He found the body of Takemaru first. It was missing its left arm. Lost in the battle over a woman, then bled to death. How pathetic.