Hello, everyone! Glad this story's well-received (as youc an seen from the bulging mailbag below). Here's the next chapter – also, I'm pushing for a specific theme for the chapter titles. Can you guess where I'm going with these first two chapters?
Now, onto the story: This is the part where the Oda Nobuna no Yabō characters (and one other fandom's mechanics) make their appearance. For their illustration, go ahead and check out via Google or in its fandom wikia. Why do I choose this one to make a crossover from? Because they're aligned with the TYPE-MOON mantra: choose a male historical character and make him a cute girl instead! However, their personalities will be somewhat different from canon due to the presence of the FGO characters as well as the Heroic Vessel. Hope I've done a good job marrying the two worlds together.
Here's hoping the next mailbag will be just as, if not more, full!
Issei ODR: What an astounding and thorough analysis! Quite spot on, there, about what I wanted to achieve with this chapter.
HarmonyDST05: Well, TBH, it's more of a coincidence. I've planned this before you've ever sent that review to me, but you're welcome nonetheless.
reader0007: Unfortunately, this site doesn't provide enough character tags for the category [Fate/Grand Order]. As you can see above, even the category [Fate/stay night] doesn't have the names 'Mochizuki Chiyome' and 'Katou Danzō', so I ended up replacing their names with 'Assassin' instead. I've requested the site to add them, but I don't think it'll be for a while yet. So, this story is under [Fate/stay night], but categorized under the 'world' [Fate/Grand Order].
PanzerJ: I encourage you to educate yourself on both proper and popular takes on Japanese mythology, particularly the Heian and Sengoku Period, because I'll use these a lot in this story and the next HV story (after the HV-S01 rewrite). Look forward to your analysis next time! Not going to answer on the Okita Alter question, though...
Lazor: Wait till you see the connection between this story and the next one... Then, my master plan will finally be complete! Hahaha! ...to answer your next question, of course I've read the Shimousa EoR manga. The best-drawn FGO manga available to me, by far.
Stratos263: While I agree with your opinion wholeheartedly, one argument I've just read really did a good job on rationalizing those 'stupid' decisions old-timers made. By viewing our current understanding on how society should be is based upon years and decades and centuries of research, personal and racial suffering, and experience, people in that age simply didn't have the chance and accumulated knowledge to shape their common senses the way we are today. However, IMO, they also didn't have the will to change, which slowed their rate of progress tremendously.
TheRageHeart: [...] After this, I'll focus on HV-S01's rewrite, and only after that will I write the 4th HV story. I'm thinking of not using Shirō in the latter, though.
N.B.(s): Note that while each chapter plays out chronologically, the timeline between chapters may not be as linear. There will be minor timeskips and jumps to align each chapter part with its counterpart in the next chapter. Be warned, and I encourage you to brush up your knowledge regarding the Sengoku Period's timeline so you don't get confused. Also, check out the Glossary Update at the end.
Perhaps the most important tool to a shinobi was information. Not martial might, not stealth skills, not mystical arts – with information, one could control the world without ever leaving one's domain, as proven by various philosophers, tacticians, and royalties in the past. Become the information dealer, and those who controlled the world would likely come to them instead of the other way around.
Therefore, one of the first trainings Chiyome went through was scouring the historical records, trying to find the loopholes written by the winner which swallowed up the loser's truths. More often than not, this information too was written by them – the shinobi living in the darkness, perfectly placed to record things without disturbance and bias.
Of course, in the final editing room – that of the commissioner of these records, either daimyos, shoguns, or even emperors – those two attributes usually went out of the window.
One of such blatant examples – in her eyes – was the abrupt ending to the Heian Period, coinciding with the meteoric rise of the Minamoto Clan.
While the event was usually attributed to its first shogun, Minamoto no Yoritomo, Chiyome had written numerous accepted theories that it all begun a few generations ago, at the time of Minamoto no Yorimitsu, when spirituality was at an all-time high and legends blurred with reality. Then, the infamous accord between the supernatural and mortal was reached, enabling people like her to live without much prejudice.
Well, perhaps she's not the best example, given the self-defeating attitude she drowned herself in prior to her marriage.
The chilly pre-dawn air caused her to shiver, pushing her deeper to snuggle into her new husband's arms. Right now, she didn't care about the possibility of another man destined for her – she's struggling to picture and imagine a more pleasurable sex, for one, given she's precisely trained to resist against this… bodily reflex – but only focused on what married life held in store for her in years to come.
That was the accepted theory now among Kōga ninjas, paving the way of her promotion to jōnin under such a short time and at a young age. She was barely several years removed from her first menstruation now, and she had been an active shinobi for some time.
In the Heian Period, the Minamoto Clan shouldn't win, shouldn't rule. The Taira and Fujiawara held far greater control over the situation, with the latter sitting pretty watching the former and the Minamoto Clan duke it out futilely, knowing ultimate power rested in its hands: the Emperor.
Then, almost in one generation, it was all overturned.
Yorimitsu, while a powerful general and famous hero, lacked any true political power in Nihon's wider scope. Chiyome theorized the pact was first signed behind closed doors between that woman and Mt. Ōe's camp, and was only revealed and spread to the masses once she was sure neither Fujiwara nor Taira could do anything about it.
Once they won over the people's hearts about the perception of the supernatural, it was done.
Yoritomo used that foundation, allied with strategic marriages with powerful inhuman wives, to utterly crush all opposition and laid waste to all established foundation in Nihon. While Chiyome believed he truly was a great warrior and commander, unparalleled in a duel or on the battlefield, she wrote about his sharp political acumen, particularly the actions he did to move himself closer to the Emperor to gain legitimacy over everything he did.
And the result was what she's living through today. The Minamoto Clan effectively was the Imperial family, having intermarried even deeper with the latter than the Fujiwara Clan, mixing inhuman blood with that of the 'divine sun'. it was easily accepted because one of those inhuman blood came from the purest, highest authority of a female sex: the goddess Amaterasu herself, appearing through her divine avatar Tamamo-no-Mae.
No one could argue with her pedigree, despite her clearly inhuman traits and blood. She was so popularly received that Yoritomo's other wives and mistresses were accepted without question, as he was seen as the one who'd 'brought back' divine blood into Nihon's ruling body. It was enough to permanently intertwine the long-dreaded 'monster' blood into Nihon's barebones structural culture, preventing humans from straying too far and reducing Mysteries by pushing science over it, instead of fusing the two together harmoniously.
Still, to the common folk, something like the Yamata-no-Orochi was too much to be accepted as 'one of them'.
Her Grand Ancestor was the first, and her husband the second. Their place in her heart was irreplaceable as a result.
She sniffed, the cold lightly affecting her. Due to her serpentine traits, she could survive extreme temperatures without any precaution far better than most people, so it's more of a force of habit. In fact, theoretically, being cooped up like this in a man's arms – and Shirō's body temperature was quite high – would be lethal for her, as she required periodic changes in climate to naturally regulate her own metabolism without the aid of Magecraft.
Of course, with the Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi's incarnation in front of her, enclosing her like the invincible invisible shield she had long dreamt of having, going out of control became the impossible thing instead.
- Mggh…
"…you wake up early," her husband uttered after a short grunt, before smiling at her.
"Force of habit," she said truthfully.
Well, to be honest, both of them were early risers. She grew up with forced awakening every morning as Kōga erratically simulated emergency dawn raids, while his blacksmithing duties made him do so naturally. Besides, she's a housewife, now – far removed from those secretive assassinations and subterfuge – and the neighbours, too, wake up at about the same time.
Rise up, wash body, cook rice, prepare breakfast menu.
It's a good change, she reckoned, compared to constantly praying and showering herself with cold, 'purifying' water every morning with meagre vegetarian dishes as a snack. While the Shinto-Buddhism she practiced didn't preclude meat, an unfortunately large number of believers were at least pescatarians. To her, only Shirō was able to make that style of dish palatable and desirable every day.
He chuckled, brushing her long bangs to reveal various winding serpentine marks and horrific red scars. She whimpered, squirming to give a token resistance, even though his constant attempts at raising her self-esteem in regards of the captive in her, and the fact she shouldn't know he could see her features perfectly fine in the dark. Her slitted golden right eye squinted in delight as he traced the marks on her face – the parts which felt dull and disgusting so long ago now pleasurably ticklish.
It's strange what love brought about the changes in someone.
"Remember the first time I saw you naked?"
She giggled. "I think most girls will act that way. Don't go round and do that to everyone, alright? I'll get really mad if you do- Hyah!"
A firm squeeze on her cute butt was enough to interrupt her, a blush more fiercely forming on her face. "Ngh… S-Shtop… W-We have t-to get up e-early…"
- Chu.
She was silenced with a kiss, followed by a masterful manipulation of two bodies to cross his legs between hers in a sideways position… and a deep thrust.
"Ah~"
Blacksmithing business has been good lately. The diversity of the customers – human, oni, kappa, tengu, bakemono, etc. – and the widespread use of Magecraft meant this skill's limit has not been theorized yet. As an artist, this condition is perhaps the best I've ever worked under, despite us being seen more as craftsmen than more delicate occupations.
Still, it's much better than various blacksmiths' treatment in Europe, where they are socially locked into a lower stratum – meaning lower resources, education, income, and so on – because of a faulty translation of the Old Testament regarding Cain's descendants. Through time, they are viewed as second-class citizens, the same as menial labour workers such as stablemen and haulers.
Meanwhile, in Nihon, thanks to the sword I've shown to win Chiyome's trust and heart, a blacksmith is viewed as integral to the culture as the warriors, artists, philosophers, and the rest.
We simply have too many deities, which means everything is held in relatively positive regard, especially due to my junior Heroic Vessel's fine job in the Heian Period.
Now, my job is to make this era not the Sengoku Period, because the word 'Sengoku' itself indicates chaotic warfare, which means a lot of unnecessary deaths, pillaging, betrayal, and other dark stuff.
Why must the unification of a kingdom be preceded by bloodshed? Those poets claim such, yet they have never ventured beyond human limits – too comfortable eating off every paying warlord's commission to make them look good in front of relatively-undereducated troops and citizens. To justify warfare, they glorify it – a sin to me.
They also say being buddy-buddy is no sign of a great leader, who must be ruthless during wartime and gentle during peacetime. Well, I say: Why must there be a wartime in the first place? Isn't it great when everyone can become friends, like those modern magical girl shows?
Allow me to be the only one to put in the effort and suffer. Those around me should just continue being happy, just like Chiyome.
- Fwoosh!
The sound of my forge lighting up is oddly… calming. For one who has spent his entire life forging blades using Unlimited Blade Works – i.e. cheating – I actually haven't smithed in quite a long time. As I mentioned before, Europe prior, during, and after the Dark Ages didn't view blacksmiths very highly… and even Excalibur wasn't made by expert swordmakers specifically. They were made by fairies – which meant the humans 'descended from Cain along with his curse' didn't touch the blade, allowing the common folk to accept it as 'holy'.
In other cultures where Christianity isn't widespread, legendary blades made by 'normal' humans are held in somewhat higher regard, though not to the point Asians do.
Therefore, I can relax and practice my craft because I don't have to take into account my occupation harming my efforts to save other people.
Check equipment. Stretch. Categorize my previous and upcoming work. Clean some unnecessary things.
Thanks to my enhanced senses, I can smell Chiyome's cooked breakfast through the suffocating coke-coal mixture lighting up. Turning around, I see her demure countenance carrying a tray filled with a traditional, uninspiring breakfast of rice, grilled fish, miso soup, and condiments.
I won't say the word 'uninspiring' to her face, though. It takes someone with a completely different mindset – one can call it 'insane' – to try new things in a culture obsessed with keeping everything traditional.
That's why the lord I now serve, the loudmouthed, black-haired beauty Oda Nobunaga, is considered the 'Fool of Owari'. Just because no one truly understands how she will achieve 'Tenka Fubu', they call her an extremist, an idiot, or worse: an enemy. Despite the glaring threat from foreigners eyeing this island archipelago, the daimyos turn a blind eye to that in favour of trying to undermine what the previous Heroic Vessel has built.
It's already fortunate the Minamoto Clan, his descendants, still reigned supreme, though they have detached themselves from ruling 'worldly affairs' to focus more on supernatural, world-altering dangers alongside the current young Empress, Himiko-sama.
"What are you thinking about?" She chirped, leaning in close enough for me to wrap my arms around her in a teasing hug. I take the bait, eliciting an excited yelp from her, pinching her cute buttocks along the way. "I-Iyah… T-This morning isn't enough…?"
"It's never enough with you," I counter, rising a blush from my current wife. "Also, just thinking about work stuff. Nothing for you to concern about."
"Given this is directly related to our livelihood, I think it's in my best interest to be concerned about a lot of things."
It's quite a novel way of thinking, different from the usual education given to young girls upon the eve of their arrange marriages to powerful, older nobles. Well, given I, too, am different than the usual men, perhaps it's my fault this kind of 'innovative' perspective from Chiyome.
As I eat with her, using various anvils as makeshift tables instead of in the dining room, I ponder the lay of the land alongside her in-between the usual husband-and-wife chats.
"Do you think our lord will move soon?" She starts, adding, "My information network is still in its infancy, so it'll be difficult to operate against the other clans."
"It's fine; Takigawa-chan and Goemon-chan have improved recently and ready to work hard… Danzō is also settling well," I answer.
"Danzō… Will she be alright if we have to face the Fūma? Despite our training, we're not heartless murderers, you know," she informed. "I sometimes don't understand Nobunaga-sama's decisions… Ah! No offense!"
"None taken," I reply while rubbing her head.
She nuzzles into my head and deftly handled the empty trays and plates with several snake summons.
"Thank you for coming, everyone," Niwa Nagahide perfectly bowed. As the epitome of 'Yamato Nadeshiko', at least on the outside, her mannerisms were faultless. "Let us rush to the main points, considering what our target's spying capabilities are."
A clandestine meeting. There was no other way of describing this gathering, as it checked all the cliché boxes: darkened room, in the middle of the night, without their political leader's knowledge, and only attended by chief retainers with actual power. To many, this was a group filled with betrayal intents, and that wasn't far from the truth.
Only the individual they wished to overthrow wasn't their clan head, Oda Nobunaga, but her trusted aide and right-hand man, Sengo Muramasa.
Shibata Katsuie, one of Oda Clan's foremost frontline generals, harrumphed in agreement. "Yeah! The sooner we get rid of him, the faster Nobunaga-sama will return to normal!" She spoke with such gusto her sizeable breasts, unhidden by her all-too-small yukata, bounced freely.
Nagahide nodded, though she kept her expression reserved. Just because 'Riku' agreed didn't automatically meant it's either a good or even a feasible thing to do. On the battlefield, she relied mostly out of intuition, compared to 'Manchiyo' who was more classically trained – but what a damn good intuition she had.
Those large breasts weren't just for show, too – her physical strength could be considered unparalleled in Nihon among pureblooded humans. As she excitedly waited to listen to what Nagahide had in store, a face-painted white boar growled from behind her shoulder.
'Inozakiō.'
At times, the outwardly-demure girl narrowed her eyes in jealousy. She couldn't see Katsuie's Guardian Spirit, but could somewhat feel it as an experienced warrior despite her young age. Looking around the room, she observed the tell-tale sign of her fellow retainers noticing Shibata's excitement… because they're not like her – they could actually see the damn thing, because most of them had one, too.
And the rest who didn't… didn't particularly care for that fact, unlike Nagahide.
"Inuchiyo, what do you think?" Deciding that wallowing in envy wasn't going to create a conducive meeting, she addressed the Oda Clan's foremost spearmen… the miniature tiger-pelt wearing little girl. "He was someone who we must prevent from steering the clan's way…"
Maeda Toshiie mumbled incoherently, appearing to ignore the long black-haired girl's request for an answer. Similarly, her namesake ethereal dog, Okuri-Inu, laid lazily in her lap, at times emitting small lightning sparks others nearby could feel the tingling on their skin.
Eventually, though, she replied, "…I thought this meeting would have snacks."
Nagahide smacked her face with one palm. "Yes, the cooks are…"
"I don't wanna' eat theirs anymore after eating Shirō's cake. Should we bring him here and judge his worthiness by cooking, Manchiyo?"
- BAM!
"Of course not!" Nagahide smacked the floor in front of her. "Be serious, for once! This involves Nobunaga-sama's future!"
"Maa, maa… Calm down… Huuaaahhh…" Sadly, Toshiie's attempt at reducing the tension failed due to the large and unrestrained yawn spreading across her face. "…I suggest we extend our passive surveillance. I don't like your zealous arguments against him, Manchiyo-san; you said it's 'for the Clan' or 'for Nobunaga-sama', but you're letting your own emotions influence this meeting."
Nagahide's desire to smack this little runt was cut off by the sudden serious criticism. Coughing lightly to cover her embarrassment, she relented, "Apologies. Now, as you know the main point of this already, let's open the floor to suggestions."
The younger Mori siblings, Ranmaru, spoke first. "I somewhat agree with both of your propositions, leaning more towards Inuchiyo-chan's opinion. Clearly, passive methods weren't working sufficiently to everyone's satisfaction – let's take a more active approach. Hanzo-dono?"
The middle-aged ninja, garbed in casual clothes instead of his 'work outfit', grunted. "It may prove more difficult to put into practice than words. Hachizuka-dono is… capable, and there's someone else preventing my efforts to reach its fullest."
"Hoh?" The deep, rumbling nasal growl came from the older Mori, Nagayoshi. "Tell me, Otōto-kun, can we just skip all of these boring parts and do what Nagahide-san suggested? My spear arm is itchy to be tested against him…"
"And that's why we haven't succeeded so far, Aniue," Ranmaru argued. "Too passive, and most subtle techniques wouldn't work against the veteran shinobis he has on his private side. Do not forget his wife is a former Kōga jōnin, too." Eyeing Nagahide to see if she's going to freak out this time or not, he added, "And just rushing in willy-nilly is just food for our enemies. We may fight, but we must not do so in a way which compromises the public integrity of the Oda Clan. Already, with Nobukatsu-sama…"
"We can forget that incompetent man," Nagahide cut in, though her tone was softer than expected given her rude words. "He's far too kind a person who's fallen into the clutches of the even more incompetent elders. We can get rid of them without any issue, especially because Nobunaga-sama will agree. For Shirō, though…"
That word encompassed her enmity with the red-haired young man. In this era, calling someone with their given name without any semblance of familiarity could already be akin to a curse.
But that young man… Nobunaga-sama listened to as if his words were Buddha's gospel himself.
"Ehh…? Isn't it fine to just do what Shirō says? Don't bother me with small things like this…"
"Yeah, yeah, what Shirō just explained! Just do it!"
"Hey, what do you think regarding this? …no, don't look away like that! Give me your opinion!"
She even let him call her 'Kippōshi', which was a right not a single person present had.
For a society still obsessed with lineage and tradition, certainly, Sengo Muramasa's standings in the Oda Clan was full of suspicious nature. For a then-apprentice blacksmith winning over the favour of the then-Oda princess was a tale as out there as fairy tales themselves, written to appease the public's imagination of overstepping their natural boundaries. While there were cases of 'rags-to-riches', each of those circumstances was so extraordinary one could attribute everything to luck alone, instead of ability.
To their knowledge, this man had no other notable achievement rather than personally crafting the weapons they now wield in the battlefield, allowing the Oda Clan to effectively maintain its relatively small area from stronger daimyos. Even Nagahide had to admit the naginata she wielded into battle had never felt as 'one' with her body.
Light, fast, yet invincible durability. Now, Muramasa's name had spread throughout Japan, with clients as far-reaching as Ezochi and Kyushu in just a short space of time. She heard he's recently tackling the mass production of hand-forged muskets, holding the exclusive contract from Nobunaga for the entire Oda Clan.
No powerful family history. No extraordinary background. No special physical characteristics.
It was as if he's just a normal man possessed by Kagutsuchi himself.
In just a few years, he beat the other established blacksmiths using a combination of traditional, Magecraft-influenced techniques with modern alchemy and production methods. It's not as if he's stingy with his 'tricks', either – the few apprentices he had, all older than him, were taught pretty much everything without anything hidden – it's just the results were visibly inferior.
Now, that was something people couldn't explain, even when they copied his handwritten manuals to the letter.
After several more discussions, they eventually agreed on something: They had to compile an accurate list of loyal people at his side. Knowing one's enemy was a must before initiating any form of battle – that was the elementary saying drilled into any capable leaders. Even Shibata tacitly acknowledged its usefulness, much as she'd like to ignore it the first chance she got.
"What about the yōkai faction? Do they share our opinion?" Nagahide queried Ranmaru.
The young man shook his head far more femininely than how his older brother would've done it. "We haven't been able to contact them yet. And as we know, Hachizuka-san is definitely on his side."
"Mino it is, then."
The person he called 'Hachizuka-san' was a small silver-haired girl with thick kappa blood. Even though she didn't exhibit any explicit external features of her ancestors, her innate talent in stealth and the arts of thievery was very apparent in her young life. While her assassination prowess left a lot to be desired, it could be argued there was no one better to spy on one's enemies with her [Presence Concealment] skill, the Sorcery Trait of her family.
On the ground, from the air, or underwater, Hachizuka Goemon had mastered every form of travelling in those mediums, making catching her when she's discovered – already a difficult feat – near impossible.
Additionally, his wife hailed from the esteemed bloodline of Mt. Ōe's onis. One wrong move, and this very castle would've been reduced to rubble by tomorrow.
Nagahide mentioned Mino because its future young ruler was one of the few yōkais who fulfilled several conditions, all of which were convenient for her purposes. One, they were familiar enough with each other from the various skirmishes they had. Two, she knew for a fact said young mistress, Yoshitatsu, disliked Nobunaga for being too outlandish in her aspirations. Three, that young woman was the most likely to jump at the chance to strike the Oda Clan without consulting her wiser and older father, Saitō Dōsan.
Nagahide had only seen Yoshitatsu once on the battlefield. Said to be the spitting image of her mother, a powerful oni unaffiliated with Mt. Ōe, her blinding silver hair was like a beacon for her soldiers on the battlefield as she mowed her opponents down. Her physical talents were matched only by the intelligence and cunning inherited from her father, the Viper of Mino, putting her among the up-and-coming talents surrounding daimyos need to be wary of.
On the contrary, Nobunaga's place in said list was tentative at best.
Let's not talk about Mino. Even disregarding it, the Oda territory was surrounded by metaphorical tigers. The Azai, though small, was by no means weak. Imagawa Yoshimoto had been eyeing their territory for years, despite her reputation matching Nobunaga's own for quirkiness. Takeda territory stood like an immovable mountain, aptly representing Shingen's favourite phrase.
And while Oda territory bordered a calm water harbour in a secluded bay, a naval expansion was the last thing in their mind as the seas were ruled by the Takigawa and foreign merchants.
In such dire times, their esteemed leader would choose to relegate everything to an unproven blacksmith? Political, domestic, military, trades… Shirō had a hand in everything, mostly because Nobunaga pulled it along and shoved it into all the pies present.
At times, the word 'overthrow' would appear in Nagahide's mind, before she slapped herself – literally and mentally – for even daring to think about it.
- Slide.
All of a sudden, the sliding door to the meeting hall opened, almost causing Katsuie and the older Mori sibling to unsheathe their weapons and strike.
A delicate, rounded face with long hair appeared, her bangs clipped apart to the sides to reveal her wide forehead. "Apologies, I was caught up in some things." Mitsuhide bowed, her words proven by the formal wardrobe she was wearing, having no time to change.
Her yukata, feminine but modified for combat, was in shades of blue, contrasting with the mostly-white garments of those who're present. Her favoured kumquat-shaped accessories sparsely decorated her body, mainly on her hair and left breast – again in opposition to the plain members present. In her mind, she scolded them, 'Could you guys be less conspicuous? Meeting in the middle of the night with an all-white uniform… It's as if you're asking to be ambushed and executed.'
Placing her katana – somewhat too long for her petite body – to one side, she asked, "What did I miss?"
Her mannerism was nearly as perfect as Nagahide's, only marred by her youth and inexperience. Still, no one here dared to underestimate her, because they all now she's the second-most trusted retainer of Nobunaga, right behind Muramasa. The combination of her classical, youthful beauty and intelligence made her the Oda Clan's best negotiator against the various trade unions and foreign merchants.
In fact, her presence was just overwhelming enough to prevent the rest from noticing the stylized signature carved into her katana.
It's a new one… 'Made by Shirō'.
"Chiyome-sama…"
"How many times I have to tell you, Danzō-san? Please, just 'Chiyome' will do."
"Absolutely not. You are the Lord's wife; thus, I disregard our age difference to address you so," the taciturn, ponytailed busty woman answered immediately. Her otherworldly golden eyes – the exact opposite shade to her husband's silver – stared convincingly at her own slitted one, showing her stubbornness. While this might be a breach in protocol, as some parts of Nihon still insisted on disapproving subordinates looking at their superiors right in the eyes, it was a showcase of Danzō's loyalty she was willing to stand up to what she thought was wrong – all for the sake of her masters. "Going back to what I was saying, Jūbei-sama informed me they intend on pushing through to remove the Lord from power."
Chiyome pursed her thin, cute lips together. "Why does jealousy have no cure?"
"That, I cannot answer."
Both of them sighed in disappointment.
Who represented the most dangerous group for a government to rule over? Was it the officials? Was it the intellectuals? Was it the labourers? Was it the poor?
No. it was the idiots who thought themselves as geniuses.
While the word 'idiot' disparaged Nagahide unfairly – she was, after all, still a capable minor lord and general – she took Shirō's differing constitution and aura negatively, unlike some others who're either intelligent enough or too stupid to care. When it didn't concern him, the long-haired, naginata-wielding woman was a formidable thinker and strategist, having led most of the Oda Clan's wars since she was small and during Nobunaga's father's final years.
Chiyome, who'd literally fucked a Heroic Vessel, would know what a being like him – human, yet not; heroic, yet not – would feel to those… uninitiated to his kindness and intentions. Danzō, Jūbei, and Nobunaga would agree – after all, they had all slept with him…
…though she did think sleeping with one's lord behind everyone's back would bring bad karma, but from what Shirō had explained to her, he was born to cut those things apart.
It, too, wasn't as simple to explain as 'jealousy'. Nagahide… no, Manchiyo was far too mature for letting that petty feeling overwhelm her judgement. As Chiyome theorized, Shirō's inherent presence would elicit a sense of discomfort from those who're fated to oppose him. Yes, he stated it was his goal to 'save' them alongside those worthier, but Chiyome had her doubts.
She had bloodied her hands with the bodily fluids of that kind of people far too much.
In her short experience as a Kōga jōnin, before retiring using marriage as an excuse, she had her fair share of combat, both in this physical and the spiritual plane, affectionally called the 'Yōkai Realm'. That term, while narrow-minded because there were more than yōkais inhabiting it, grew popular during the end of the Heian Period, when Yoshitsune brokered a deal to keep the more dangerous and unstable humans and supernatural beings apart from each other.
Sure, most yōkai assimilated with humans, once each party found out the other one had some good people, after all. However, there remained a select few fanatics who only saw each other as vermin to be extinguished – and this applied to both humans and yōkais. Therefore, the 'Realm' was created as a 'Do Not Cross' sign to keep these ones in check.
Yoshitsune threw some people she disliked very much into there as food for the yōkais, partially undoing what her brother had fought so hard to achieve. Still, this imperfect method managed to pacify both races – the yōkais were full, having no energy to rebel; the humans were kept in line, fearful of being tossed into the same place as the most heinous criminals.
Chiyome heard from both Shuten-dōji and Yamata-no-Orochi there were humans who lived in the Realm, but they only managed to do so by being just as evil and destructive as the yōkais they sworn to eradicate. Fortunately, her first experience in exterminating one who materialized too close to civilization was accompanied by her husband.
It was also the first time she saw his work being used in the field… and the result was underwhelming.
Not the sword, no. That was nothing less than a piece of art, combining the best earthen steel with exotic supernatural metals, treated with both the hottest flame and the coldest frost. The handle and decorations were mediocre and simple, purely because even the gaudiest would lose out in beauty to the blade's steel… making it a waste of money and effort.
No, the fight was underwhelming.
One swing. That's all it took.
According to Kōga manuals, one had to venture deep into it while enduring the draining fog and encroaching reduction of senses. Past the wisteria flowers which bloomed wildly, each step shaking off their pollen and prevented one's Od to replenish properly, was armies upon armies of wild, mindless yōkais.
But they're not the biggest threat. No matter the strength, any intruder could use their intelligence to either find a way around them or ambush them efficiently in one shot. No, it's the smart ones who're the most troublesome. With age, yōkai and human gained both brain and brawn, compressing their uncontrollable wanton desires into a finely-honed blade. The only saving grace was their numbers, more often than 2 in a Realm at most.
Any conquerors had to defeat them along with their Cores or Graphs of any description. Divine, Soul, Demon… it didn't matter. If not, not only the Realm could sustain itself indefinitely, the ruler of the Realm just won't die.
Yet, no matter how greatly tempered, they were no match for Shirō's one swing.
He didn't even step one foot into the Realm, for crying out loud!
His display sent Danzō into a spiral of negative self-esteem after seeing how useless she was to him in reality. They could only break her out of her shell through… well, the usual sex, really, but also a lot of heart-to-heart talk! Didn't matter if Danzō didn't believe she had one – Shirō said she did, and it was good enough for Chiyome.
If only those young retainers saw what they saw that day… then, all of this mess wouldn't have happened.
Could they not trust their own lord's eyes? Yes, to the current culture in Nihon, much advanced as it was compared to the Heian Period, Nobunaga's eccentricities could be viewed to overwhelm her positive values. But to those who fully understood the worth of her 'Tenka Fubu' with one glance, like Shirō and Jūbei, she was the controversial leader Nihon needed to truly step onto the international scene.
Like the old Chinese saying: a villain in chaotic times, a hero in peaceful times.
Once Nobunaga pacified the lands and set her sights onto the shores beyond the seas, then the citizens would understand.
This time, Danzō was the one to initiate the conversation. "Chiyome-sama, pray tell me about the progress of your recruitment drive. I am looking forward to integrating my own resources to yours, if it's already established."
"It's going well. Several temples around us and other territories had pledged their willingness to join the cause. Hongan-ji, on the other hand…"
"That faction is always difficult," Danzō admitted.
She wanted to help her husband wholeheartedly without tapping into Yamata-no-Orochi's power. So how could she do exactly that? Of course, having the partial knowledge her captive granted her meant her path was relatively set – that to set up a clan of kunoichis to support whichever lord she's serving.
Right now, it was personal, instead of being bound by honour.
There were too many widows and daughters scattered across the lands sent to the temples so the hands of brigands and other unsavoury beasts couldn't reach them. This was mostly due to them being placed in areas with rich leylines, where strong wards could be built either to passively detect or actively affect those with evil intentions. Instinctively knowing this, relatives sent these lost women out in droves – at least those who couldn't catch a powerful lord's eye and become their concubines.
Over the decades, the temples mostly taught them how to sustain themselves by virtue of spreading the teachings they'd been handed down for generations. Knowing trying to blindly convert all of them would be counterproductive, the various monks and priests – of either genders and races – chose to apply it to real-life situations by spreading good deeds.
However, they failed to take notice of one glaring hole in a person's desires: revenge.
This was the niche Chiyome worked on. Those who saw with their own eyes how their fathers and brothers were massacred on the battlefield. Those who cried as their lovers were torn to pieces by bandits and monsters alike. Those who wailed in futility as their bodies were tainted and ravaged, under the gaze of apathetic witnesses.
Those who were willing to throw everything, including their souls, to pay the evil deeds done to them back several fold.
Even Danzō wasn't an exception. While her skill and status in the Fūma Clan previously meant she was spared of the more… base duties for a kunoichi – disregarding her special physical make-up – their decision to scrap and abandon her as soon as the next generation was ready to take up the mantle meant she viewed them rather darkly. She still had a soft spot for the current generation leader, 'Kōtarō', whom she helped raise, but judging from the first mission report she gave Shirō, she left those poor Fūma shinobi in so many pieces even the wild animals had no idea where to start eating.
Chiyome reached out, feeling the supposedly-visible joint on Danzō's shoulder. "Don't worry; according to Shirō, we still have time before deploying them in combat. Let's prepare them as best we can!"
Her chirpy reply was rather uncharacteristic, but it did make Danzō smile thinly. "Thank you. I also heard Goemon-sama had gathered some sympathetic yōkais too. Let us do our best to spread the Lord's name so he can be accepted alongside Nobunaga-sama."
"Mother! Don't get up just yet!" Rushing through the corridor, Mitsuhide allowed her custom-made kimono to brush the floor in her. "Ladies! Why are you allowing Mother out and about?!"
The handmaidens shirked away frightfully. Normally, Mitsuhide was a perfectly refined young girl, brought up in a typical noblewomen way, much like her mother when she was young.
However, their similarities ended there. Other than their appearance – and inherent beauty – Mitsuhide grew up loving martial skills and stories about Princess Generals, admiring those pioneers who overturned the male-dominated landscape like Minamoto-no-Yoshitsune. Admittedly, Mistuhide wasn't stupid enough to believe everything she'd been told – much of Yoshitsune's eventual rule was based on what her brother had set up for her before he peacefully retired – but the fact she ruled for many more decades to come while supposedly maintaining her youthful beauty indicated some serious ability.
She was also smart enough to realize she couldn't be the point-woman in this continued revolution for several reasons. One, she was too late – the path had already been laid out for her, and taken advantage of by those like Shingen and Kenshin to great effect – and thus couldn't be as 'revolutionary'. This excuse was also why she was fascinated by Nobunaga and wished to vehemently serve her, despite the Oda Clan's standings being not much higher than the Akechi Clan's.
'Tenka Fubu' was the 'revolution' she pined for. Seeing Nobunaga's fierce expression as she enthusiastically explained what it stood for in front of a young Mitsuhide – still 'Jūbei' at the time – enamoured her. The sight of Nobunaga's slim back standing firm against the conceptions standing in her way was just as heroic to Mitsuhide as anyone in her bedtime stories.
However, the longer she spent time with Nobunaga, the more she realized one crucial thing…
…she was lonely.
What she needed wasn't for someone who could follow her every step of the way, like Mitsuhide. What she wanted and required was one who could forge new pathways side-by-side with her, and perhaps overtake her so she could learn from the example.
And that was the moment she first met the young master from the Muramasa family.
"Geez, Jūbei… I'm not about to die yet," her mother kindly tried to assuage her, but it only drove her worries into another level.
"Don't say that! You're cursing yourself!" She put her hands around the frail older woman and pushed her back to the room, where she glared at the handmaidens to quickly prepare a resting place. "I know the medicine's working well, but let's not take chances…"
"Ah… Then do convey my thanks once again to Hisahide-sama for her willingness to concoct this medicine," her mother said somewhat weakly, though her complexion was leagues better than what it had been several months ago. "Though… Given how the Oda Clan's relationship with her, I don't want to put you into compromising spots…"
Indeed, for the Oda Clan to rule over Japan, first they had to claim legitimacy over their warmongering ways. It's not something new – in fact, this practice existed since time immemorial. So long as there remained distance between the people and the ruler, all the latter had to do to win the former's support was a grandiose excuse to paint the opposition as the enemy.
To do so, they had to get past Hisahide's domain en route to Kyoto. How much bloodshed would occur in that attempt would depend on Nobunaga's prowess alone.
Still, that half-Persian, dark-skinned woman obliged to treat Mitsuhide's mother, leaving her somewhat conflicted if they were come to blows.
She was confident in her duelling capabilities. Even though they'd known each other for a short amount of time, Shirō's occasional tutoring managed to improve her swordsmanship by leaps and bounds, far beyond what she could achieve from studying under various masters she'd invited to her place. Additionally, with this sword by her side…
She didn't believe there's a single thing she couldn't cut down. Humans, yōkais, whatever.
Because he was a man who could walk side-by-side with Nobunaga-sama… and her first crush.
Glossary Update!
G
Guardian Spirit
As the name suggested, it was a supernatural spirit inhabiting a person, usually in the shape of mythical beasts. Their level of power and intelligence differs irrespective of the owner – it could be said the most important element between the two parties was the intangible compatibility. It didn't matter whether they're inherited from birth or acquired from battle, naturally evil or artificially good… all which mattered was the way they're used by their owners.
Originally, they passively watched on their matching owners from the Reverse Side of the World. However, since the Heian Period blurred the boundary between it and the Outer Side, they were able to inhabit a permanent place in the latter so long as they had a host. Normally benign as their true function was as a grave keeper, they could become twisted and feral if left too long unattached to any physical anchor, growing more and more powerful the closer they were to vanishing.
L
Living Weapon
The optimal state of using one's Guardian Spirit in combat, as handed down from past warriors and masters. Channelling their supernatural powers through an inanimate conduit wasn't just safer, but often times more efficient if accompanied with a well-made catalyst. As technology and Magecraft's fusion grew more and more perfect, so too the ease of achieving this state, though it didn't mean someone unqualified could use it casually.
One could say this was a state of pseudo-Noble Phantasm, limited only by all aspects of endurance of the host. In its 'Broken' state, one might be granted powers beyond what's normally possible, but the rule of Equivalent Exchange would always strike harshly. Very little techniques could reverse those who had already embraced this state apart from outright killing them.