Welcome again to HV-S03: SI! Now, we're moving on to discussing another main girls, as well as establishing some crossover characters I'll use throughout the HV series set in Japan (part of the AU I mentioned in the previous chapters). Can you all guess where they all originate? As you guys may have figured out already, unlike the previous stories, this one has multiple characters possessing knowledge of their previous, Nasuverse canon selves (or the crossover canons) — hence the title.

Also, I made a BIG MISTAKE in the previous chapters: I thought 'Sengo' was the first name and 'Muramasa' was the surname. Obviously, that's wrong, so by the time you read this chapter, the previous ones would've been corrected. Notice that people address him differently than the narration, according to their circumstances — as was common in that era of East Asia.

I asked for a bulging mailbag, and you guys responded! Cheers to you all! Let's make this a habit, shall we?
Giuseppe: In ancient East Asian cultures (Sinosphere), there's a tradition to change one's name as they grow up. Courtesy/Style name is a name bestowed upon one at adulthood in addition to one's given name, marking one's coming of age. It's considered disrespectful for strangers to address eaech other with their given/childhood name. In this instance, 'Shirō' is the given name, and 'Muramasa' is the courtesy name — a craftsman/blacksmith may sign their creations with either one of these or a pseudonym.
Royal Freshness12345, Anon, 98kazer, GreyMan19: Oh, the build is still long...
reader0007: TBH, it's from 'normal' behaviour mixed in with false sense of affection for their lord (Nobunaga). Imagine this: in an age of chivalry and nobility, a character who hasn't showed either one in front of their eyes was appointed a close and important position alongside the reigning ruler. If the protagonist was on the other side, then this new guy would be a corrupt minister most of the time. However, as you can see, this story is different. You only want to cut them down because you inherently know Shirou's a good guy – but what about them? They had no idea and had to speculate (wrongly, of course).
uboNiniM: [...] Naturally, the canon of Oda Nobuna no Yabō had so many characters it's impossible to fit them all into the fanfiction — ditto the historical canon, because I am in no way a Sengoku Period expert. Just a fan. Therefore, if you see any notable absentees in future chapters, do call out to me and I'll try my best to either include your suggestion or explain why I don't include them.
GreyMan19 & huberusleonardo: [...] And yes, I'm trying to introduce Nioh things (especially Nioh 2) into the story. I don't include it in the main crossover categories because it's mostly just the partial system and setting. I want to focus on interpreting and integrating it into Nasuverse rules. [...] Not very much. A mix of it and Nioh at the start, then it'll go off the rails (if my plan actually works).
Crazy9087: I can reveal to you now that I'll focus on rewriting HV-S01 after this, and then the proper 4th installment will still revolve around Japan. After that, I have to research which culture I'm going to tackle, because I like to cover all my bases first.
Lsilver19: I think that's an inaccurate way of putting it in this series/universe. Remember, waaaaaayyy back in HV-S01, a Heroic Vessel requires a suitable... well, vessel to inhabit without any repercussions, and in HV-S03, thanks to what he and another Heroic Vessel have done, Sengo Muramasa is born with an even better match for Alaya's plans through the Butterfly Effect. For comparison, without the Heroic Vessel system, it's likely his body is more suitable for the Alter Ego class just like in FGO canon.
Nerf585: Yup. The one you're going to see in the next chapter will be Kippōshi, before slowly maturing into her normal Archer/Berserker/1st Avenger form. Near the end of the story, she'll be in full Maō form.

N.B.(s): Check out the Glossary Update below for clues to answer my question above!

Ever since the moment she was born, Nobunaga was fascinated by a vision.

A dream where all lands stood united against a common problem, achieving the utopia spoken of by philosophers of ancient past. A place where people could live, fight, eat, drink, debate, and study peacefully without eliciting bloodshed.

Yet, reality was cruel. She learnt that first-hand when her father first took her to the battlefield.

He preached the same thing she wanted, yet using a vastly different method.

She could still remember the mixture of scents around her from that day: the metallic tang in the air from sprayed major aortas, the acidic putrefaction of her own vomit, the musky suffocation of the sweat from the Oda Clan's men, the sharp irritation of inhaled gunpowder.

They became an aura she carried throughout her life, ending in her death in that accursed burning building of the divine.

Her last memory was hugging Nō tightly, the cold-faced woman actually revealing her hottest emotions among the flames in front of Nobunaga.

…and then she woke up as a baby.

She had to admit, she'd seen a lot of strange things in life, but seeing her stubby, fatty fingers for the second time was something else. Well, technically, this was the first time because there's no way the previous her would have the cognitive ability to recognize the words 'fingers' and 'baby' – but her opinion stood.

Instinctively, she wanted to immediately show her father and mother she was different than other children, but she soon found out it only ostracized her further. Her already-futuristic thinking, when combined with the way her eyes intelligently stared at others, made the whispers of 'demon child' even stronger than in her previous life.

…despite the fact this world she's reborn in was significantly different in history and culture than the one before.

She realized this the instant she saw a fully-spherical cat roll near her baby crib, bouncing around her body like a soft, fluffy ball – and the fact her caretakers didn't see anything wrong with this. In fact, they cooed and squealed at the yōkai's cuteness, chasing it around to catch and hug it tight against their bosoms, forgetting Nobunaga was still there, watching them.

Perhaps the fact her vocal cords hadn't fully developed yet saved her from further scrutiny, because she spent most of her early childhood silently watching over others to learn their quirks and weaknesses – a habit she developed as a daimyo.

The era was shaped by massive changes to the Heian Period, straying from what she remembered. Yes, Magecraft was somewhat in use in her previous life, but that was limited only to those enlightened warriors and excellent strategists, whose understanding of the classics opened the road for them. Nobunaga herself wasn't very interested once she heard about the requirements to join: to walk side-by-side with [Death].

How could she achieve 'Tenka Fubu' if she could've died at any moment due to her own carelessness? That's not what a ruler should be worried about!

However, now, as the thought of it, would she have made a difference? Or would Mitsuhide still trap her and Nō in a burning temple all the same?

…she guessed that's a problem of personality, not ability. Still, she couldn't shake of the feeling if she was stronger, if she was more in tune with the supernatural, perhaps she wouldn't struggle as much to get past the priests and monks to conquer all of Nihon. Her gender, combined with her maverick views, made forcing them onto the people in a short period of time challenging, if not outright suicidal.

But things were different now. She knew what would happen, who would she meet, how she would die.

…though she immediately discarded those thoughts the instant she realized the second major difference between this reality and the other one.

Everyone turned into a girl.

Originally, her retainers were of various age, background, bloodline, and loyalty. There were those who served her father, and eventually her once he died. There were those she earned their loyalty along the way in battle. There were those she grew up with, intentionally placed there by the nobles to arrange for her 'bright future'. And there were those who followed her because it's convenient, ready to abandon her once they felt she was about to fail.

This time, the third group was the most prevalent. The men who were more than a decade older than her previously could now pass as her older sisters easily. The young warriors and scholars who she should meet later in life instead made their name very, very early, with a significant portion of them not even having reached their teenage years yet.

And those who didn't change… became more incompetent as a result.

Nobukatsu was an interesting case, since his effeminate features became exemplified, but his idiocy remained about the same.

What sister would be happy when her brother decided to sacrifice himself in front of her just over a small obstacle?

…well, come to think of it, there were plenty ruthless rulers out there who would do just that… but not Nobunaga! She swore!

Going back to the changes in genders, she heard most of her rivals also received the same treatment – i.e. shifting into beautiful girls as if they're yōkais who specialized in [Mimic], as well as growing younger. Therefore, the timeline for her to operate was just sped up – perfect for the impatient Nobunaga.

These girls were called 'Princess Generals', including Nobunaga, and she was pleased to hear someone actually coined an artful, elegant nickname for the group instead of something scarier.

The people had enough of bloodshed, after all.

And the 'people' she's referencing included both humans and supernatural races. Unlike some, Nobunaga had no enmity to the latter whatsoever – both in this life and her previous one – merely judging them to be useful to her or not, just like how she treated most newcomers to her forces. They might or might not form a personal bond with her, but it depended on them. Nobunaga had no desire to step down to meet them halfway – either they could keep up with her, or not.

Perhaps that's her folly: stubbornness. Surely, given a second chance like this, she would've considered changing herself to prevent the dark fate awaiting her and Nō? From the Throne of Heroes, she also saw the atrocity committed by people she considered her successors: Mitshuhide, Tōkichirō, and Motoyasu all harmed Nihon's future prospects in the short-to-medium term, instead of expanding their powers due to their personal greed.

It seemed to get things done right, she must do it herself, after all.

Besides, she had someone even better now at her side; one she could trust wholeheartedly not only with her dreams and visions, but her entire being.

In fact, if not for the annoying established societal structure, she would've arranged a marriage with him since they were kids. She had developed that much awareness in these past few years, at least.

Sengo Muramasa.

"Ah, what beautiful red hair! Mine looks ugly in comparison," he commented, which she distinctly remembered was the start of their first conversation when they were kids. Reaching out to stroke the near-flaming tips without wincing like the others, he continued, "You must be special."

Apparently, he was the only one who thought so.

Nobunaga might or might not have blushed that day – her memory was unclear due to the extreme happiness she felt.

The trouble of having such thick Mysteries permeating the air around her meant her latent magical abilities – relatively meagre in her previous life when compared to people like Hanbei – awakened far earlier and more potent than before. The vision from her future self, that of a flaming, six-armed gigantic skeleton, manifested inside her so visibly since she regained her full cognition… as well as influencing the outside world, too.

She guessed it's because of her previous atheism, having never been exposed to such a degree of Mystery until late in life, that she struggled to control it, unlike others who're more… pious and superstitious.

On the first day, she burnt her mother's hands. Then, a few days after that, Nobukatsu's legs. Weeks later, most of her handmaidens' clothes and hair were singed.

Being the most powerful and oldest child, she was somewhat protected from any repercussions, especially after she took it to herself to personally humbly apologize to them – a feat her previous self wouldn't even consider. Perhaps she's more willing to change than what she'd admit?

To think she'd be attracted to a person of lower birth… was maybe also a sign. Not that she's opposed to the fact – just the chance opportunity they had to meet, despite their different social strata, was already nearing a miracle. In her previous life, she was surrounded mostly by women of noble birth, and Nō was the most capable of them all to accompany her… and thus was chosen.

Still, she was 'the best from a subpar group'. As intelligent and loving as the ice-faced maiden was, like most, she never truly embraced and understood Nobunaga's ambitions to the point of being capable of contributing to it, walking with her side-by-side. Instead, like most consorts at the time, Nō made a habit of 'walking three steps behind' Nobunaga, both figuratively and literally.

Since that day, Kippōshi and Shirō were practically inseparable.

…and that was the moment she took it upon herself to change. Presented with this opportunity, of having an equal mind pushing each other side-by-side, she had to be successful this time!

- Clang! Clang! Clang!

"Haa… Haa… Haa…" Panting heavily, Nobunaga stabbed her sword to the ground as a makeshift cane. Not many had the gall to do what she did, considering the value of the sword her beloved Muramasa had forged would be enough to buy a military castle outright. "L-Let me… t-take a rest…"

"N-Nobunaga-sama… Did I overdo it?" A worried-looking Jūbei leaned over while calmly sheathing her sword in one smooth motion – also another creation of Muramasa's, but even finer.

"Of course not… It's just a mark how hard you've been training!" Trying to keep up appearances, Nobunaga trued to laugh arrogantly, but choked and coughed instead. "Fuahaha- G-Gueh! Ahack!"

Jūbei giggled, and Muramasa smiled from his position as adjudicator. "Then, we'll restart after half an hour. Give Nobunaga-sama something warm to drink."

"Yes, Sengo-dono!"

Unexpectedly, the one to respond was Kohaku, one of Nobunaga's younger sisters… even though they didn't look alike at all apart from their equally-black hair.

Still, the Oda Lord smiled at her sister, receiving it gratefully without discriminating Kohaku who's born from a village girl. Her mother became one of Nobuhide's mistresses, never officially, though she was well taken care of due to Nobunaga's insistence.

In another world, she'd use Kohaku as a bargaining chip just like Oichi… and she might do the same thing all over again if she found a better opportunity. Therefore, as much as she could, she'd love Kohaku like a real sister before it's too late – something she began to feel more and more as she grew older in her past life.

And if she couldn't get that asshole Nagamasa to be loyal this time… then there's no need to risk sending Oichi there, too. She might do so if that delicate little sister of hers was physically stronger, enough to assassinate her husband… and if she's as stubborn as Kohaku. Somehow, despite their vastly differing bloodline, their temperament ended up quite similar.

Everyone was gathered around a relatively flat and lush riverbank. With such a good weather, it'd be a shame not to hold a semi-outing with the troops to give a change of pace and improve their mood after being cooped up in various compounds and tents beforehand. Nobunaga sat down under some shade…

…but a shadow loomed over her, causing Jūbei to widen her eyes in shock.

Kohaku did the same, but because she was much closer, she was a lot faster to react, almost body-checking Nobunaga to one side and covering her older sister with her body, glaring at the newcomer all the while. However, just to show how weak she actually was, Nobunaga barely shifted, and the other person looked amused more than anything.

"Ane-ue! Get behind me! And you! Get over my dead body first!" She fiercely howled with her determined, yet soft voice.

"Where are you from? Imagawa? Takeda?" Nobunaga asked, the tips of her hair turning bright crimson. She already had her personal pistol pointed at the man since she detected her presence, but Kohaku's action actually hindered her chance to use it properly. There's no way she'd shoot through her sister's body – first, the pistol, while portable, lacked the power to do so; second, let people say what they thought of her, but she loved Kohaku. "Or are you looking for work?"

"Neither," the lackadaisical young man replied. However, instead of explaining further, he tossed a small pouch filled with coins to another man huffing and puffing beside him. "Here; what I promised."

- Chink.

"Haa… Y-You ran t-too fuckin' fast…" The other man nearly heaved, failing to catch the thrown money as a result. "G-Geez…"

The first one then turned towards Kohaku, saying, "Relax. If I did anything, that scary redhead over there would've chopped my hand off first."

"Eh?"

Kohaku turned to where the man's thumb was pointing… at Muramasa, who was halfway across the clearing.

"Aren't I right, Shirō?"

"You've grown strong, Tatsumi. Cocky, too," he coldly replied, his near-golden eyes locked onto the relaxed young man.

Mitsuhide simply watched on in silence. If this man was nearing her senpai's ability, then all she could do was summon the troops to become meatshields for Nobunaga-sama. It's not her place to interfere; just do her job, calmly analyse things, and act appropriately.

The first man was clad in a white-purple combination of kimono and hakama, appearing to be in the prime of his physical life despite the loose-fitting clothes. A… wakizashi was strapped to his back, clad in an ivory-coloured sheathe – Mitsuhide couldn't judge the detailed shape and length, and merely assumed its type. This was likely intentional to prevent his opponents from gauging his full abilities.

The other one… was unremarkable. In fact, he looked more like a vagrant swindler rather than a guide – the coins he was paid with must be from bringing his compatriot to here. A sleazy face with lecherous eyes scanned the surroundings, clearly trying to make sense where he could make his next profit and stay alive, rather than judging potential enemies like the other man.

In fact, he looked almost like a monkey in human skin.

"Senpai…" Mitsuhide softly whispered, confident Muramasa could hear it. "Should I…?"

"No, this was between me and him. Or, well, that's what I assume," he shrugged, still not moving from his place some way away from Nobunaga.

- Step.

Of course, the man – 'Tatsumi' – crossed that distance with one hop.

Muramasa sighed, still speaking to Mitsuhide even though his full attention was garnered on the other guy. "Guard Kohaku-dono from that person, Jūbei."

Ordinarily, such a tone wouldn't fly in a formal setting, because despite him being older, their social status was too far apart to allow it. However, the girl clearly didn't mind and shifted her position closer to the Oda siblings.

"What's she drinkin'?"

"Who?"

"Your lord," Tatsumi pointed at with his thumb. "You said 'something warm', right?"

"Dunno. I think it's warm milk."

"Oh."

From afar, Nobunaga pulled Kohaku closer into her arms, eliciting a yelp and a blush from the girl. "Stay here, and keep out of the way of my gun," she whispered, to which the younger girl nodded. "He's… a Mutsu?"

"Nobunaga-sama? Can you elaborate?" Mitsuhide arrived swiftly, as smooth as the wind, taking guard with a relaxed stance against the shifty eyes of the male guide.

"They were a tengu clan," Nobunaga explained. "I heard it from Chichi-ue. A tribe specializing in unarmed combat… against anything. Minamoto no Yoshitsune-sama's wife, Shizuka-gozen, was said to be from the main branch."

"Tengu, huh… Their human transformation skill is quite good," Mitsuhide observed.

Back in the middle of the field, the troops who're training previously had made way for the two young men. Muramasa was the first to talk again, "Must we do this? Aren't you already the family heir?"

"For 'Mutsu', yes," Tatsumi nodded, still as carefree as before. "But for 'Minamoto'…? Of course not."

His words made Kohaku widen her eyes. "Ane-ue, Sengo-dono is…?"

Her older sister smiled and put a finger to her lips.

Shaking his head, Muramasa… no, Shirō replied, "You're too kind. For 'Minamoto', you should've attacked Nobunaga-sama or Kohaku-dono from the start. You still have too much 'Mutsu' in you. That's what I would've done to bring out the best in my opponent."

"Liar. You're just as soft-hearted as me," Tatsumi immediately pointed out.

Shirō chuckled. "Well, you're not wrong."

"Then let's make a bet to have things more interesting." Tatsumi stretched, allowing his traditional features to contort flexibly. "If I win, I take that."

Once again, he pointed his thumb towards where Nobunaga was sitting.

"Impudent…" Mitsuhide cursed under her breath, palming the hilt of her katana. The pressure she emanated caused both Kohaku and the monkey-like man to shiver and back away uncontrollably, but it was fortunately stopped by one swipe of Nobunaga's hand.

Declaring resolutely, just loud enough for all present to hear, Nobunaga said, "I accept."

As the highest-ranked officer present, it was her responsibility to affirm any decision, not the ones directly involved like Shirō. Her voice elicited a smirk from Tatsumi. "Alright, your turn."

"Then, I choose that."

His index finger pointed straight at the 'monkey man', which led him to confusedly repeat the act towards his own face. "M-Me?!"

"Yosh. Let's start!"

The first strike was an otherworldly-fast kick to the face. Shirō could block or parry, but knowing the offending leg would just change its trajectory, he chose a half-step back instead.

However, retreating in front of a Mutsu would just give them space to do whatever they wanted.

'Fūetsu, huh?' Shirō commented in his mind as the other leg, usually rooted to the ground for a normal combatant, flew straight to his retreat path. A flexible kicking technique, whose concept was purely 'two kicks in the air' in any directions.

And it didn't end there. As Shirō dodged into the negative space between the two strikes, Tatsumi contorted his body downwards to grapple his leg before the redhead could launch his counterattack, pulling the two of them towards the ground. However, instead of waiting until he got into position, the legs Shirō dodged retracted backwards to slam one of the knees into the back of the head.

Yes, it's not a pure grappling technique, but a striking one instead.

- Clang!

Yet, the expected dull thud of bone meeting flesh was instead replaced by the ringing of steel.

A small, ornate flying mirror blocked the backwards knee strike, but even before it could reveal its true capabilities, Tatsumi sensed the danger and pushed off against Shirō's unyielding stance, retreating several steps backwards.

The exchange took barely a few seconds, yet the tension in the air had escalated to the point Nobunaga stood up, the tips of her hair flaming red once again.

"My turn."

Before Shirō even finished, his arms swiped out stiffly against the air. Contrary to everyone's thoughts, Tatsumi actually paled and frantically dodged…

- BANG! BANG! BANG!

The ground behind him was carved into, creating foot-deep trenches, as if invisible swords had just cut into it.

Shirō swiped and kicked, sending out those invisible sharp shockwaves, but Tatsumi had regained his composure and actually shot forwards, agilely zigzagging around the attacks like he could see them just fine.

- Crash!

Every now and then, one of the attacks would glance off his body, but a Reinforcement technique shrugged it off before it could draw blood, enabling the Mutsu to tank and move forwards even faster. After just a few steps, he managed to get within striking distance once again, but Shirō's movements suddenly changed into a more fluid and circular manner.

Tatsumi had sent out several kicks and punch from multiple directions, though, too late to change his plans. A straight was attempted to be grappled by Shirō's sudden snake-like movement, but it was pulled back and replaced by a kick to the midsection. The redhead used his left hand to caress and use the attack's force to shift sideways, before snaking up Tatsumi's torso towards his throat. The other guy bent his body backwards to break the contact at the same time as his other leg rocketed up into a knee to the groin, forcing Shirō to disengage.

This distance required barehanded techniques to close up once again, but Tatsumi knew Shirō's distance was practically infinite if he allowed it. Predictably, he twisted his head to one side, dodging an invisible forward thrust which still managed to cut the side of his ear, lashing out with a backwards horse kick to close the distance.

- Stab!

"Ugh!"

The moment Tatsumi turned his back, a spear had already stabbed into his kicking sole. Before he could even make sense of the pain, a katana had already kissed its tip onto his throat, checkmating him.

"G-Guh… It seems like… our barehanded techniques are still a long way off Minamoto's Magecraft, huh…"

"Incorrect," Shirō claimed, dismissing his Projections and kneeling down to treat Tatsumi's injuries. "You need to incorporate it more, instead of stubbornly rejecting it."

The young man chuckled. "You may be right."

"Still, you also neglected to use your Tengu form. If you transformed, I might be in trouble," Shirō kindly admit, though it didn't register very well with Tatsumi.

"That's nonsense. Do you think that could content with your Noble Phantasms?"

The redhead shrugged his shoulders, before standing up and offering his hand. "I win. So, your companion is mine."

"…yeah, I guess. Oi, Tōkichirō! You're his now!"

"Don't just decide on other's behalf! You tricked me!" The monkey-like man screeched. "I ain't gonna- W-Wa-Wait! Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait! Nobunaga-sama!"

He backed away rapidly on all fours when the Oda lord had unknowingly walked up into his personal space… carrying a gun.

Alarmed, Tatsumi tried to run to mediate the situation. However, Shirō blocked his way.

"Hey! What do you think I was wagering earlier?! It was the milk! Warm milk! No need to involve people like him into this situation!" The Mutsu Clan Head shouted loud enough for Nobunaga to hear.

"But I didn't hear you refusing to bet that guy, Tatsumi-kun," Nobunaga darkly said. "So, this thing who's been eyeing Kohaku since earlier… I won't grant mercy."

Indeed, during their 'duel', Tōkichirō – no surname – was unable to keep his eyes away from the beautiful girls he's suddenly surrounded with. While Mitsuhide had the professionalism to ignore it and stand guard, Nobunaga didn't, especially when those leers turned to Kohaku. Tatsumi had simply been to engrossed in his desire to reach here and battle Shirō to assume the Clan Head title of both Mutsu and Minamoto to realize this person… was nowhere decent as a human being.

"I have no need of you in my rule. Farewell."

Tōkichirō's eyes was stuck to the barrel aimed square at his forehead. "No, Nobunaga-sama! DON'T-"

- Bang!

"Do you think of me as cruel, Shirō?"

It's a face I've never seen Kippōshi make in front of others. As the leader of the Oda Clan, she must be steadfast, invincible, ruthless, kind, magnanimous – all of the ironic, contrarian attributes a single person could have only if they had a personality disorder. The people demanded such from someone they acknowledged as a leader – in other words, those who were just imperfect in the slightest would be twisted in history into a demon king.

Staring at her infinitely deep black eyes, I caress her fully-crimson hair. "Yes."

She smirks arrogantly, despite those orbs I'm staring into filled with deep sadness. "You know, you're the first one who dares to say that to my face without screaming."

"It's because I am me, and you know that."

"Yes, exactly."

- Thud.

She headbutts my chest lightly, the difference in our height meaning I can't get a full grasp of her expression. The tips of her hair burns, but my proficiency in Reinforcement rendered anything moot unconsciously. As the scent of charred carbon from bones and melting iron from steel overwhelms me due to their familiarity, her shoulder shakes.

Nobunaga doesn't cry. She just doesn't.

However… the one in my arms right now is Kippōshi.

'Chiyome, forgive your unfaithful husband…'

I'll be lying if I say not a shred of arousal makes itself known to my body. However inappropriate, however greatly I respect and admire Nobunaga's drive and ambition, however awful… When a beautiful woman pressed her budding body into myself, I won't be a hypocrite and say it doesn't excite me in the slightest.

What I can do is comfort her in a way that is respectful and polite.

To be frank, if she is here, Chiyome will criticize me for not being as intimate as I can be. Despite our comfortable living arrangements, as both she and I make good money professionally, there's more to be gained if Nobunaga views me as a close confidant and gives us unfair advantages.

Being sympathetic and pragmatic doesn't always have to be contrary to each other. It's just fact. Soon, when we go out in the open, Chiyome's knowledge and skill of the Takeda territory and the Kōga Clan will be instantly targeted. They let her retire and marry me in peace so long as she doesn't actively participate in undermining their efforts – guess what will happen if she actually uses her powers to pursue what she believes in.

And to prevent that, we need Nobunaga's political power. We help her get stronger… no, change her into someone even worthier to unite Nihon, and in turn, her position will protect us.

Danzo doesn't care about this fact, but I'm worried about her too. I know how magus thinks – a creation as close to 'perfect' as her using current technologies certainly won't be allowed to roam freely, much less serve other parties opposed to her creators. Likewise, her intimacy with the Fūma Clan means there's a target on her back from them, too.

"I've pledged myself to support you and achieve 'Tenka Fubu' together, no? If I was opposed to what you've done, I would've put my body on the line to stop it."

My pats to the head don't seem to be working very well, though.

It'll get awkward pretty soon when we both reach our physical peak, because our height won't be that different by then…

"Do you see this? This 'globe'… Let us traverse the oceans when we grow up!"

This Nobunaga… is far different than the one I remember, or the one Alaya gives me the information of. Not the boisterous, childish warmonger. Not the callous, bloodthirsty demon king. Not the 'Fool of Owari', and not the murderer of thousands of Buddhist innocents in the future.

This one… is just a woman. A shockingly well-balanced one, as if she can pick-and-choose whichever personality she views as 'good' from her selves in the Throne of Heroes, but a woman nonetheless. One who's fortunately born into this world so far apart from the Pan-Human History I suspect this is a pruned timeline instead.

Alright, much as the Pan-Human History often mis-records a person's gender, it can't be it's wrong for every single Sengoku Period character, right? To be honest, the situation right now looks more like an adult harem novel rather than a serious war-period drama.

- Srrt…

Her fingers clench my shirt, slowly burning them to ashes as her innate power begins to pour out uncontrollably.

"Kohaku… Her eyes… And the rest, too… They all see me as a demon, right?"

"Nonsense. They all love you, so don't deprecate yourself…"

"Lies! You're just lying to make me feel good!" Her ever-deeper voice rises in pitch. "I killed a man in cold blood over a bet… against a bottle of warm milk! That's… inexcusable!"

Stroking her long, fully-crimson hair, I explain, "Like I said, I approve of your explanations back then. Even if you don't, I would've chopped his head off myself."

"I have no need of you in my rule. Farewell."

She was right. Any capable and lucky commander living can replace Kinoshita Tōkichirō and still achieve just as much, if not more. Certainly, I aim to utterly trounce his legacy, knowing the atrocities he committed once Nobunaga wasn't around to keep him in check. People paint him as a creative, comical, and smart individual – I only see a greedy, genocidal maniac who's drunk on the power he wielded, revealing his colours only when there's no one to admonish him.

"…you just don't understand."

"Then, please explain to this subordinate of yours, Nobunaga-sama."

That actually makes her look up to me in irritation, knowing she has made me promise we'll use only our childhood names in private settings, much like the familial pacts she has currently with the other retainers. From this angle, I can see the globs of tears barely held back by her own willpower – sometimes she really is too stubborn for her own good, much like Kohaku.

However, she quickly shakes her head. "No, forget about it."

She actually uses both palms to try to push me away, but I hold firm. "I refuse. If you bottle it up for too long, then it may affect you negatively. This is a private setting; do pour out everything you have… either to me, Jūbei, or your sisters."

"It's… Haa…" She takes several deep breaths, as a shadow of fear crosses her eyes. "Do you believe in divine retribution?"

I smirk. "You don't, so why should I?"

"Just answer the question honestly!" She hisses, her expression deadly serious.

It's good this conversation has taken a turn for the better, though, as her hair begins to lose its flaming red and going back to its familiar inky black.

Closing my eyes, I try to consider an answer not-too-revealing of Alaya's plans and the Heroic Vessel system in general. Yes, I am aiming to get into Nobunaga's good books – whether it ends up romantic or not is another matter – but it's not a truth most people can easily digest, even for someone as revolutionary and innovative as her. Chiyome is used to it due to being in close proximity to Yamata-no-Orochi, but from what I've felt, Nobunaga's control over her Guardian Spirit is sketchy at best.

It's as if she wants to master it, but is afraid to embrace it fully.

I have to admit, it's one that's tricky to master.

Gasha-Dokuro is the epitome of the [Avenger] Class, constituted of the amassed corpses and fury and grudges of those fallen in battle without a proper burial. Since this world's Mystery is at an all-time high, it's relatively easy for a Guardian Spirit – yes, despite their name – to influence its owner negatively, thinking it's doing its best to satisfy them like a weak Holy Grail.

Its power is unquestionable, as seen when I have to be the one on standby to shackle her outbursts when she was young, having burnt nearly everything around her to dust without even meaning to. I still remember quite vividly the scared little girl who was the most afraid of looking into her own reflection in the mirror, having earned the scorn of her close relatives.

That, I think, was one of the reasons she warmed up to me so quickly. First, she can simply trust herself around me, knowing I'll be there to stop her whenever she crosses the line and can survive if she does. Second – and this is an unfortunate recurring event – give a lonely person some warmth and affection, and I own them for the rest of their lives.

Nobunaga is no exception. I suspect she already knows this, but plays into it anyway, despite the frighteningly deep intelligence she sometimes mask behind a boisterous exterior.

Nodding my head, I finally answer, "Yes, I do… Though maybe not in a way you think."

"Which is?"

"The event you despise the most: People fearing 'divine retribution' which comes out of nowhere from the sky, and base their lives and efforts on it without any desire of improving themselves." Pulling her down to sit, I continue, "To me, it must take a more subtle, varied method to strike at someone."

"Like a shinobi?"

"More like a miko who masquerades as a shinobi… who's actually an expert in [Witchcraft]."

"Uhahaha!" I manage to elicit a giggle from her. "Boasting about your wife in front of me! What arrogance!"

"I'm glad you got it." I smile in return, happy her mood is back.

Nobunaga's room was a smattering of imported things amidst a traditional Japanese background. Not that she liked or could tolerate the latter over a long period of time – she simply didn't have the energy or patience to renovate her entire place and withstand the criticisms and comments from her retainers.

Gently nudging her favourite globe to one side like a kemari with her toes, she shuffled closer to the full-length mirror at one corner of her room. It was already dark outside, and the gentle glow of strategically-placed lamps barely reflected her image on the mirror – polished and crafted by Nanban merchants before ripping her off with the buying price, as per usual.

Some day… Some day, she'll get them back for this.

She slipped off the sleepwear she threw on after the bath, leaving the black fabric on the floor. Slowly, she traced the outline of her young, nubile body. Her curves had just started to swell – from her wider, masculine collarbone to the petite mounds topped with sensitive nipples, down to the well-toned flat stomach and lightly-grown pubic hair. She had heard Nanban girls sometimes shave it to bald, so she decided to try it… in the hopes if Shirō had the urgency to push her down, he'd be in for a nice surprise.

Yet, he didn't.

Observing her reflection on the mirror, no matter how objective she was trying to be, she had to say she was an incredibly beautiful woman. Naked like this, without the distracting Nanban paraphernalia, her softer, traditional features were just as desirable as her sisters and mother. The black hair which kept its lustre and straightness despite the small battlefields she had the chance to run through wildly. The smooth skin produced by a combination of good nurture and her own Thaumaturgical metabolism cleansing the wastes automatically. The body odour females were sensitive to producing was thus absent, much like her retainers who had attained a similar or higher level on their powers.

'Am I… just unattractive to him?'

A relationship between a master and retainer wasn't unheard of, but still uncommon due to the natural circumstances of the world. The different social classes one moved in meant they were exposed more to those around their level, not the ones clearly above or below. Besides, this world required people to ignore their personal desires and do what's necessary… such as marrying another person they didn't love to secure money and resources.

That was one of the reasons she wanted to establish 'Tenka Fubu'. Others would declare something idealistic like, "I'm going to change things when I'm powerful!" or "I don't care about status! I love you!"

…but they're much too weak when the crucial moment came, and gave up to the pressure.

She, too, was guilty of this. Even though she loved and cherished Nō… eventually, she despised the idea the choice was taken away from her. She respected her father for choosing someone she could get along with – unlike most horror stories she'd heard about arranged marriages – but it didn't change the fact she was forced to do the same thing to her sisters.

And now, she might have to do it again, despite her newfound knowledge and experience.

Here she stood, thinking of how she could engage in a relationship with her married retainer – even lightly seducing him using the 'crying woman' act, bolstered by the fact she was actually sad and not lying because he'd see right through her – while her sisters knew not what awaited them in the future.

Her fingers traced the mirror… and a hand reached out to grab it.

"Wha-!"

Her voice choked in her throat once she saw who it belonged to.

Her future self was standing there, red flaming hair fluttering in all directions. She couldn't figure out what kind of face her other self was making, because most of it was burnt off into charred flesh, bare bones, and bubbling blood. The palm clasped around her wrist was sizzling her skin, causing her to wince, but her well-trained reflex had her other hand reaching out for her side weapon.

She had to destroy this…!

…only to remember she was buck naked, as her other hand grasped only air.

As soon as it happened, though, the phantom from the mirror disappeared, and the sudden loss of grip sent her tumbling back to the floor.

- Thud!

"Nobunaga-sama, is there something wrong?" One of her personal guards softly called out from behind the shoji door, clearly alarmed by the dull sound.

Still splayed out, she quickly replied, "It's nothing! Maintain watch!"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Panting heavily, she raised the hand which was captured earlier, not finding the heavy scars she expected to be there. It was as pristine as it was from when she linked hands with Shirō.

Glossary Update!

M

Mutsu Clan

A high-class Tengu Clan, existing before the first Emperor/Empress took their seat above Nihon. They were unusual in their combination of love for humanity and the insistence to separate themselves from the latter, despite mostly appearing in human forms to travel. Like most yōkai clans, the strongest member was usually chosen as the Clan Head, with the second-best either serving the former throughout their lives or join their offshoot family branches.

A champion of barehanded fighting techniques, they dedicated their lives to overcoming every weapon and martial arts solely with their bodies. They were the purveyors of early Japanese martial arts, before integrating elements from foreign cultures for the sole reason of researching methods to defeat them.

Ordinarily, every generation would only have a single child, preventing any major infighting among different branches. However, once siblings were born, if they exhibited similar martial talents, they were nurtured until they were capable of slaughtering their enemies with their bare hands. To choose the next 'Mutsu', a contest was always held if more than one successor were eligible – it could end either fatally or not, depending on the agreement. Once chosen, they would receive the blessing of [Asura], increasing their combat prowess and bloodthirstiness even further.

They maintained their social status among humans by intermarrying with the local ruling families, on occasion choosing the less-talented members as grooms and brides to produce the next heir if the current Clan Head died prematurely. An example was shown with Kiichi and Suzuka Mutsu, when the older brother and Clan Head perished in battling the Taira while the younger sister married the future shogun, Minamoto no Yoshitsune, to continue the bloodline.

Their Sorcery Trait was [Inheritance], allowing undiminished transmission of knowledge and techniques between generations. Their union with the Minamoto Clan during the Heian Period meant this was also bred onto the latter's heirs as well.

P

Pistol

An extremely short-barrelled projectile weapon, inspired by Nanban firearms. Difficulties in reliably manufacturing its miniaturized parts when compared to the larger rifle meant its development was stunted, before foreign merchants eventually got their hands on a permanent source prior to the supposed national lockdown against foreign influence.

Instead, the blacksmith Sengo Muramasa was the first to establish a genuine production system to create a version even more sophisticated than Nanban ones. Instead of solely relying on 'worldly' material, he combined Thaumaturgical processes to simplify and improve the methods, taking advantage of the abundance of Mystery since the Heian Period.

Its physical size meant accuracy was lessened, but a carefully-engraved spell along its barrel formed a virtual space to increase both its firepower and long-range lethality. By drawing Od from the wielder, it's possible to engage the automated reload system – otherwise, a manual reloading was necessary every few shots, much like later traditional flintlocks.

Y

Yōkai Transformation

A skill to partially or fully shift between yōkai and human forms, available for all races for whoever had the potential and drive to do so. Partial transformations indicated many things, such as insufficient strength and willpower, inadequate resources, an accidental aftereffect, and so on. Mastery of this change required a complete immersion and willingness to surrender or accept one's 'other selves'… among other things. A human could transform into a yōkai and vice versa, though usually the latter involved sealing one's overbearing presence to blend in better in the Outside World, owing to humanity's usual lower Conceptual Weight.