Yet another chapter inspired by Flow's great creation, Sign! And welcome to the longest chapter of the series!
This whole thing will consist of one large duel scene, littered by some illogical and inhuman thought process from Kagetora-chan. It happens around the same time as Chiyome's and Danzō's fight. Additionally, there's going to be some things I'll explain in future chapters. Check it out, and let me know what you think. This is the most comprehensive duel I've written for this site yet, so enjoy!
Here's the sad and tear-filled mailbag from Kotarō fans (or so I assume).
uboNiniM: Shame you forgot! I think we're on to something interesting there. Naruto!Danzō has never had his proper strength at his prime showcased, and he died after numerous modifications (which will inherently weaken his body, no matter what people say about the b*** Hashirama cells) against a young, determined, suicidal, and insane man at his own specialty, the Sharingan. How do people think that'll go? So it's difficult for me to compare them directly. Maybe when I make a Naruto fic I'll have a proper answer for you.
YuukiAsuna-chan: FYI, Sharingan also appears in Nioh, too. I was surprised when I saw it as well.
Royal Freshness12345 & DPSS: Like she said, Danzo's not (or no longer) their 'mother'. Be wary, too, because most of the chapter is viewed from Kotaro's perspective, and may not represent Danzo's own intentions. [...] Happy to see you commenting whenever there's a depressing chapter! Yes, that's the intention. However, the results may surprise you. Be wary because most of the chapter is viewed from Kotaro's perspective, and may not represent Danzo's own intentions.
Soul king: No problem; hopefully your education goes well in this world's situation right now. A full-powered and -trained Kenpachi will be overwhelmingly powerful to place in the Nasuverse during a regular Grail War, similar to how the Divine Spirits have to be forced into a Class container. If he joined the Black Faction in Fate/Apocrypha, he'll be the first one who'll kill Darnic and sabotage them, wreaking havoc because their principles clash with his own too much.
Just like meeting people, a warrior's worth in combat was often decided by the first impressions. Of course, it could also be just as misleading – the classic case of underestimating one's enemy and fall into a trap, or overestimating one's enemy and ended up expending unnecessary resources. Both of which would lead to undesirable outcomes, though skilled strategists – those normal people said to have 'divine blessing' – could and would account and act accordingly.
Combat could be a drawn-out tactical chess, or a complex blitz go… and everything In between. More often than not, the board itself would be thrown into the air and replaced by something else just at the most inopportune time.
Heroes were made and broken in these minor slices of history, when aspects unrecorded swung fate one way or the other.
Of course, after all that monologue, I still feel somewhat confident in winning this battle. To be frank, since Kippōshi canonically also won without me, then will my presence and actions here actually cause her to lose? Did this reality work that way, different from my own original one where the universe's correcting powers were somewhat weaker?
I don't think so.
It's quite cute how it differed in other ways, though. It feels like I am dropped into a world designed by a novelist obsessed with harem stories, and living out a fantasy where one guy was thrown into a world full of girls. Because the Warring States didn't have many prominent female characters, so they changed the males into Princess Generals… apart from Nobunaga, who retained the same appearance I know from my own world's Pan-Human History.
…oh, I forgot about Kenshin. The person in front of me still has the same appearance as the knowledge Alaya granted me… and hopefully, her personality and abilities should match up as well.
If not, then the plans and preparations I've made would need a lot of revisions.
Still, her behaviour is still within parameters.
If provoked so blatantly, her pride won't allow her to stand by and watch… as well as actually follow the plan her retainers have no doubt concocted for her. No, wait – this person shouldn't have pride… only an inhuman desire to become the 'Bishamonten' her followers expected of her. The 'pride' she showcases is just an attribute she exhibited because that's just how a god of [War] should act, while she herself didn't understand the need to do so beside the insatiable want to face strong opponents.
In a way, she doesn't see me and Danzō riding towards her as a challenge – she simply reacts to the inherent magic energy and Conceptual Weight the two of us have. No different than a wild beast wearing a beautiful girl's smile.
Just like me. Perhaps… she, too, derives her emotions from those around her?
Hopefully, I'm outdoing her in this regard.
Still, seeing her martial skills first-hand sure is interesting.
She's not intrigued by my modern-looking bow, merely focused on the threat it presented. Normally, people will fuss over its materials and build quality, as it consists of things not yet invented and shaped with processes not yet rationally available to current technology. However, Kagetora quickly focuses her killing intent on how I breathe and release my lance-like arrows, each Altered and Reinforced to maximize their range and destructive power, in order to parry them perfectly every single time, no matter from where they come from.
- Twang… Twang… Twang…
My bowstring reverberates through the unusually-heavy night air – a sign when a massacre is about to happen – and three or more arrows are launched each time. Still, Kagetora's glaive flashes and perfectly knocks them all aside, not even allowing one to graze her horse. Her Reinforcement must be excellent, because the combination of a purposefully-quiet string composition, blackened and streamlined arrows, and smooth movements should've eliminated all pre-movements masters can read to pre-empt any attacks… yet Kagetora is above even that.
Perhaps she's sensing the killing intent mildly coating each arrow? Or is my magical energy leaking out too much?
Well, not much I can do about that. I'm not Chiyome or Danzō – ergo no [Presence Concealment] – so this much is the best I can do. I'm sure everyone else would've been a bloody porcupine now, even Danzō's foster son whose team had spread out nicely to surround us.
I am tempted to just snipe him down right then and there. Kagetora is still someway away, and I can spare one arrow to spear him into the ground, not confident in my ninja lover's ability to maintain her mental state in this task I've given her, despite her fervent assurance earlier. Plus, each parry slows the Uesugi Princess General down as the arrows' mass are somewhat transferred to her slim arms – really, how can these waif-like girls have such extreme potential within them?
I get sometimes women have greater strength-to-weight ratio than men, as proven by their modern success in competitive free-climbing compared to men. That sport penalizes outright muscle mass more than anything else bar motorsport, and thus those women have the densest physical structure among other athletes.
But I think the circumstances which birthed her simply prefer their women slender. Well, it's not like I don't understand or agree…
- Fwooosh! Fwooosh! Fwooosh!
'Oh, about time.'
I guess her troops have more faith in her than I thought, because the supporting artillery comes a beat late. She's already parried and dodged more than several rounds from me – which lasted barely several seconds, to be fair to them – but I assumed there was someone among her close retainers who has the propensity of independent thought, actively anticipating what their lord will do and acting at the same time.
…or maybe they're just underestimating me, expecting me to drop dead in those same several seconds already?
Not a situation I'm unfamiliar with, nor one I'm uncomfortable being in. I'm used to it.
I shouldn't let out my own prowess in Reinforcement. To be honest, allowing those puny arrows pepper my skin isn't a bother, because they'll just bounce off. However, it's better to make a show of dodging with some effort in order to skew their perspective of my – and to an extent Danzō's – abilities. Not too much, mind.
I love Danzō. That much is clear. One of the things I love is how she and Chiyome can move on their own without any prodding or concrete plan from me. With just a simple sentence – "Support me." – both of them know what or what not to do. This illogical, convoluted love which comes from them, simmering inside me, and reflects back just as much, is proof of the bond I've made with them.
I'm not sure whether the Dream Cycle has kicked in for them yet. Still, the way they move when we train – apart from one erotic in nature – indicates they are capable of sympathizing with things I never need to say.
The two of us leap at the same time, using the same technique, but against different opponents. Using Ghostlight Firefly on the incoming hail of arrows has already been bread-and-butter during our training, where I generate the moving platforms they have to take advantage of.
Wait, that analogy doesn't really fit this time, does it? Bread and butter haven't become popular yet in Nihon, after all…
- Step. Step. Step.
Three taps on the arrows' shaft are enough to bridge the distance between me and Kagetora.
There are various movement techniques available to this world's Minamoto Clan which I can use, but this one is the farthest removed from that particular syllabus. It's not yet time for me to reveal this body is the descendant of another Heroic Vessel – something that younger female cousin of mine, the current Empress, often yells at me about. Really, that girl can shout despite her small size and normally demure personality…
Oh, well. Just think of it as her way of caring for me. Tsundere… no, kūdere, isn't it? she'll hate me if I say that to her face, so I'll keep that locked quietly in my mind.
Still, no matter how things change in this world, things also say the same – i.e. no one has really seen somebody traversing an entire storm of arrows and landing on top of their enemy's horse.
Hōshōtsukige, is it? a fine name for a fine steed.
It's surprising this is even possible, really. This horse is quite a bit larger than the normal war steeds, and the only clan breeding this variant is the Takeda Clan. How can the Uesugi Clan secure one for their Princess General to rear and use, while the Takeda guards their horses better than their gold?
When compared to its rider, its size is even more magnified. It's more suitable for someone my height and musculature, and not a slender young girl whose face resembles Mordred slightly.
A flash of steel shoots towards my face from her glaive, tearing apart the wind from its speed and strength.
"Taste this blow from Echigo's God of War!"
She smiled wider than she remembered ever doing such expression.
Reminiscing of those days practicing in the mirror to form what passed as a 'smile' from others, Kagetora couldn't help but question the emotion welling up in her chest – itself a rarity, usually only happening when her sister hugged her when she was small and rubbed her head. However, compared to that, which was a fulfilling, warm, and bright… this was fiery, passionate, aggressive, and uncontrollable.
As such, that was probably the fastest and strongest strike she'd ever thrown out with her glaive.
Yet, instinctively, she knew it wouldn't land.
Fastest, yes. Strongest, yes. Accurate? No way in hell.
That emotion threw off her usual sense of combat, the excitement leading her to overextend, overcommit, moved in too early, and made it all too obvious. It's good against a wild animal or an inferior martial artist, sure – because enough strength and speed could overcome everything – but not this redheaded man in front of her.
He looked similar to the ninja boy following her since Odawara Castle in Sagami, she noted. However, she had no time to mull on this fact… because she had to bend her upper body backwards, flat on top of the saddle, to dodge a frighteningly sharp straight kick.
She thought she had him; she truly did. He was mid-air, doing this ridiculous stunt of walking on the arrows Kanetsugu ordered to fire and approaching her at great speed. She specifically chose the moment his feet weren't touching anything to let out this emotional burst, taking the calculated risk that even if she missed, he'd need one more step to recompose himself after dodging or parrying or blocking such a heartful strike.
Yet, he simply contorted his body, clasped his arm around and over her glaive's neck, and used her own weapon as a handhold to launch a counter.
And it didn't end there.
The leg sharply cleaved down without the need of re-contracting its muscles, carving a sharp right-angle line from its earlier movement. She crossed her arm to block, not having the luxury to have Hōshōtsukige to tank the blow… because she's now sure it'd be dead in one blow. Her horse was still galloping, yet they had suddenly entered melee combat on top of it.
- Creak…
Her arm bones groaned in protest… yet the same confusing wide grin still made its way to her face.
It shouldn't be this way. Her beloved mount was in danger – surely, the priority was to remove this annoyance off its back and secure an advantageous position? She could care less about the horde of shinobi undoubtfully sent around her by Kanetsugu – she did pay them out of her own coffers, as the Uesugi elders disagreed with the deal she cut with Ujiyasu to allow her to engage Nobunaga's forces right here and now.
To be honest, she's beginning to regret her decision. Who knew she'd run into a master not several hundred meters into the battlefield?
"Ggrrrraaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" Grunting loudly, she heaved him upwards with one arm, as he's still holding onto her spear. "Get off!"
- Slip.
And he simply let go, just like that – because she'd taken the bait. Now, her right side was completely open from the exertion, and her left arm was numb from blocking the kick. His left knee came down on her exposed chest hard, bending her torso nearly in two and causing Hōshōtsukige to shriek painfully.
"G-Gohok…"
She herself couldn't let out any sound because the blow disrupted the air in her lungs, but she couldn't stay still, despite the globs of congealed blood spraying out of her mouth.
How long had it been since she was injured so quickly into a duel? She was the one who instigated the match by her various war cries, after all.
She kicked the horse's belly, instigating it to prance even higher in the air and throwing this man off-balance. The previously-extended glaive had regained control and swung diagonally downwards naturally, aided by the suddenly-reduced distance between the blade and his footing due to the horse's upwards jerk.
- Clang!
Her right arm trembled, as the familiar sensation of steel meeting steel reverberated through it. The thing was…
It was steel meeting neck.
Her ploy was successful, only for her glaive to fail in penetrating the outermost layer of skin.
Immediately, she let go of her confusion. Loosening her body's entire musculature, she slid down and around the saddle, rotating herself into Hōshōtsukige's stomach just as its front legs came down.
- Thud.
She felt him landing on top of her horse from the slight buckling of its legs, the earlier knee strike heavily bruising its rear quarter. Allowing her momentum to fling her upwards once again, this time from the other side, she had already stabbed her dulled glaive – its edge rolled over from the contact against the man's neck – and equipped her thick recurve flyssa.
'Hah! Didn't see that coming, did you?!'
The sight of his widening eyes elicited a slight satisfaction from her, happy her Magecraft at least allowed her to surprise him.
It's the only spell she'd mastered: the [Item Box]. The purest application of the [Space] Element, it enabled her to carry as much weapon as she'd like wherever she went without the weight penalty. She heard it originated from a coastal kingdom from far west, something the Nanban mercenaries used to carry supplies. However, the person who taught her did mention this was a dying art, since skills were so varied nowadays it became unnecessary. It became better to specialize in a few things, knowing the penalty wasn't as severe as in the past, than learning most but mastering none.
Unfortunately, other than her predisposition against projectile weapons, Magecraft also eluded her. Not her Nihon's traditional arts, not her peers' more up-to-date Thaumaturgies and systems, not even foreign knowledge from wherever. Only this thing stuck inside her head and allowed by her body.
'Fuhaha! Behold, my magnificence!' She bombastically laughed inside her head, already half-expecting this man wouldn't go down with such a petty trick like this. 'Don't disappoint me, now!'
And he didn't.
His bow – that of a curious make and craft she didn't recognize – lashed out flexibly, bending at its curves from the sheer burst of acceleration, and whipped her blade's flat to the side, before immediately sending in a straight to her face.
She couldn't block this. Her other arm was still immobile from blocking his impromptu axe kick earlier.
Kagetora grinned maniacally, and headbutted the fist with all her might.
- Crack!
However, as fresh blood spurted out of her forehead, forming crimson curtains down her eyes, she only saw his face change from mild surprise to disappointment.
"Dismount."
She didn't even see the roundhouse kick coming, folding her body in half as she's blown to the side onto the field around them.
'That was… [Item Box]? Didn't expect to see it here…' I let out a sharp sigh, jabbing one finger up Hōshōtsukige's back to immobilize it. it'll be troublesome if the horse and rider have achieved unity similar to a Rider-Class Servant, and for it to link up with the already-impressive white-haired girl in front of me.
Because then it'll be difficult to beat them both without killing them.
That kick from earlier didn't quite have the power as I prioritized speed to catch her off guard, but it should still pack some oomph in it. Yet, Kagetora nimbly bounces off the ground like a cat, rolling quickly into an upright position despite the copious amount of blood now staining her white-dominated uniform and hair.
Her eyes slits over in a way I'm very familiar with.
'Atalanta…'
Only this girl has the complete opposite personality than that woman.
'Oops… Don't go in that direction when fighting, SHIRŌ…' I berate myself. 'Focus.'
It's not that often I fight someone with the same fighting style, after all.
Our habit of switching weapons whenever possible is uncanny, as does her mastery of vastly differing weapons against me. While I haven't shown anything other than my archery and hand-to-hand combat yet, I'm also quite certain she hasn't pulled out all the stops yet.
She may be approaching that state, because I've felt her intensity only rising after receiving that injury – unlike most people. It seems she's that type of combatant.
Amidst the chaos Danzō is sowing around us against her former clan, Kagetora calmly pulls out a double-bladed glaive. It's honestly more of a fantastical design than a pragmatic one, and as predicted, she splits the relatively short middle handle in two, ending up with two sabres in either hand with overly-long handles instead.
Oh, I can do dual-wielding, too.
She yells out something, but I barely pay attention because I assume it's just her regular kiai. Even for martial artists without any talent in Magecraft, self-hypnosis is still a very useful tool to lift one's performance in difficult circumstances. She hasn't managed to draw blood – a combination of unstable footing and a disadvantageous position – and right now, she's convincing herself she can.
In the end, sometimes, that's all that matters.
The ground beneath her cracks under her Reinforced dash, as she holds both weapons with a rather unique placement near the hilt. I assume it's due to her realizing the difference in reach, thus sacrificing control for more range and momentum.
Additionally, I deliberately showcased Tracing Gān Jiàng and Mò Yé out just before she made this first move, partially establishing the gap she needs to bridge if she wants to land a blow on me.
Right meets left, left meets right.
Amidst the ninjutsus being thrown about around us, and the Fūma's coordinated barks and codes, both our coupled weapons sing every time they make contact.
She slashes at my neck from the left with renewed vigour, undeterred by her earlier failure to cut it off, but Mò Yé's cloudy white flat parries it upwards. She takes advantage of the momentum to send an upwards slash to my groin from far below, her left sabre scraping the ground from both her shorter height and the long grip, seemingly inspired by my Ghostlight Firefly. Gān Jiàng meets it halfway, its crimson hexagons glowing menacingly, and also knocks it aside, not wanting to clash head-on this early.
This series of movements should result in both her arms flailed to the sides, her middle wide open to receive either a headbutt to the face or a straight kick to the belly. She can't do the same because my twin wide blades are already covering most vital parts – which I'm sure she'll fail to injure anyway with our vast difference in Reinforcement skills – so I become curious to what she'll do next when I do not do those two predictable things.
Because another pair of Gān Jiàng and Mò Yé shoot down from right above her, about to cleave her shoulders off like Nanban ham.
"Tsk!" She clicks her tongue sharply, jumping half a step back, but the falling and rotating blades have their flats marry up to the one pair I'm holding, sticking lightly like magnets, before I launch them again in her direction.
Of course, that's not how Gān Jiàng and Mò Yé's mutual attraction conceptually works. But I'll be an idiot if I showcase everything they can do in front of this talented Princess General.
She may produce some crazy ideas afterwards… I think I have a pretty good grasp of her personality, now.
The emotions I'm empathizing with has no hatred, murderous intent, or anger at the fact I'm basically foiling her grand plan. Instead, it's full of things I'm already familiar with: excitement, eagerness, hunger, fighting spirit, happiness… and a small amount of lust.
Hopefully, the rosy tint on her cheeks forming larger with every second in front of me is just from physical exertion.
I move in along the thrown pair, slashing at her feet, but I'm forced to check my momentum when a spear with 6 hooked prongs near its socket slices through my path. I expand my senses to determine whether it's just an Alteration of her previous glaive, but it appears this is her true favoured weapon and that one is just her backup one. Several heads taller than her petite frame, the hooks also neatly capture the guards of her twin sabres and – in a move clearly mimicking my own – throw them with a simple twisting of the shaft.
Both of us reposition – myself to parry and Kagetora to evade the returning pair of Gān Jiàng and Mò Yé. Landing several steps further than before, the two of us pause, taking stock of the situation as well as the expressions we're both making.
And, to my horror, I'm making a similar smile to her own.
"Haha! Glad you're also enjoying this!" She guffaws, brandishing her long spear. "I've… been waiting to meet you!"
She shouts and launches forward, half-lunging to where I parried her twin weapons to the ground earlier, and half-attacking me with the spear. I choose to meet it with my forearm instead, confident in my Reinforcement enabling me to glance the attack off and wrap around it.
- Clunk!
The slight blow emits a dull sound as the hooks catch on the inside of my flesh more than I expect, sending me tumbling forward instead of the straight-line dash I want. Sensing an opportunity, she grunts and heaves, twisting the spear to tangle my arm further and lifts me up into the air, intent on slamming me back to the ground. While her weapon hasn't drawn blood, the hooks' shape is quite troubling since only now I'm able to extricate myself – in mid-air.
She lets go of her spear once I do, summoning a guard-less katana with a red scarf and jumps to meet me. While her Reinforcement is inferior, it's still enough when combined with her incredible talent and reflex to keep up with my current movement.
Yet, her eyes twitches in surprise, annoyance, and further excitement when another pair of Gān Jiàng and Mò Yé are Traced over my feet, giving me a platform to stand and push off from as I sidestep her thrusting lunge. I do the predictable thing and send a full-powered one-handed swing to her right side, where her thin clothing clearly outlining the slight swelling of her breast and the lines of her open armpit, but she still has enough physical capacity to twist herself around, using the tip of her toes on her spear – stabbed to the ground – to also initiate a counter reverse-roundhouse kick.
The Mò Yé I'm holding blocks the kick – more powerful than Hōshōtsukige's own – as Gān Jiàng misses, but I cast Mana Burst through my soles to destroy my shoes and free up my own toes… to grab the blades on my feet.
The thrown pair from earlier fly perpendicular to my descent, glowing brightly as they enact their [Attraction] attribute in a straight line towards the fluttering body of Kagetora's. I allow the force to take over my flight, rocketing me forwards to the now-worried expression of the white-haired girl.
"Nyah!"
I catch a glimpse of her off-hand summoning a wakizashi to complement the katana, but it's too late, in my humble opinion.
I start with an orthodox downwards diagonal cut with my right, before a thrust from a blind spot created from the first blade's movement, started behind said weapon, is dodged by her frantically dropping herself to the ground, having the need to block the first attack by crossing both her blades. Yet, before her feet can touch the ground, I twist my body and perform a rearwards kick with a blade clutched in between my toes.
- Slash!
"Mngh!" She winces when it slices her thigh quite deeply, but I was attempting to shatter her bone with that attack. In just that short exchange, she has figured out something about my movements, allowing her to escape fatal injuries again and again. "A-Aaahhh…!"
Her cry is due to the exertion necessary to curl herself up into a very small ball to avoid the follow-up high roundhouse kick, performed smoothly after the previous straight one, aimed at her neck with my other sword-wielding leg. It does improve her aerodynamic drag and let her fall to the ground faster.
Still, I don't let up.
The twin blades propelling me in the air from earlier has arrived. I clutch one with my mouth and the other with the inside of one elbow, descending onto her much like the deity she prides herself to resemble, the multi-armed Bishamonten.
Okay, that analogy isn't quite religiously accurate, but the most important is the spirit! Spirit!
I'm sure someone as pious as her will associate my current swordsmanship closer to Marici, the female multi-armed guardian deity of Yagyū Shinkage-ryū, than her beloved god of war.
Then… what will she consider the current Nobunaga as?
"Nobody interfere!"
She knew that was a stupid command, but she wouldn't allow it any other way.
Why should Kagetora share her long-desired opponent even with her own people? That's just ridiculous!
Still, she had to face reality: She's not currently in the best shape. Long cuts had stained her white robe and thin armour with large amounts of blood, some of them wide enough for others to see the white bone underneath – though she praised herself for preventing real bone damage in this uphill battle. Her Reinforcement acted as rudimentary self-healing, because she's in no way proficient in the latter, so at least her blood had stopped flowing before she could lose too much of it.
Limping and stumbling all over, using some of her longer weapons as various crutches, she surveyed her opponent from behind a circle of her summoned war tools.
She must not breathe heavily. She must not show weakness. She must not fall to her face right here, because that'd deflate the morale of her troops.
This was her place: in front, as inspiration to others. Let others watch her back in awe as she tackled insurmountable odds time and time again – the very same repetitive pattern which granted her the title 'Bishamonten'.
There he was, his copper-red hair lightly ruffling through the wind. His figure was clear despite the lack of light because of the gloomy weather, crouching tall and firm atop two wide Wazoku-style sabres' hilt. Four other pairs were snugly held onto by various means: clamping it in his elbows' inside face, orthodox hammer grips, clutched across his teeth, held with the back of his knees, etc.
Basically, he looked like a menacing porcupine instead of a legendary warrior.
"State your name! This Uesugi Kenshin demands it so!" She cheerfully barked, pushing her voice as loud as possible partially to dispel the doubt within herself. "O' great warrior, whose name shall be written in history books as this Kenshin's greatest opponent and triumph!"
However, his flat response almost made her stumble… more than the accumulated injuries she'd received.
"Oh, I'm not a warrior. I'm a blacksmith. Please don't misunderstand," he mumbled through his clasped lips, no doubt using Reinforcement on his voice to let it travel past Kagetora and towards her army.
'Excellent psychological tactic,' her mind calmly analysed. Yes, no matter how her body looked, her mind and heart must always be clear. 'Let us know we're no match even against an artisan, much less against Nobunaga's main forces.'
There's no need of false pretences right here and now, where there was no battlefield. She was wrong earlier – this had turned into a sacred duel ground, even though the battle between his kunoichi companion and her hired Fūma shinobis were still raging on.
Therefore, she could indulge her true nature as much as possible, sure in her belief this opponent of hers had already seen through her ever-smiling façade.
Somehow, she felt they're quite similar, in a way. His calmness barely had any killing intent in it, methodically breaking her defences down dispassionately.
Almost as if he's looking down on her.
…intentionally.
Normally, such subtle tactic would've brought out the injured pride within any warrior worth their salt. To have their effort, self-belief, martial confidence, and tactics all rendered useless underneath that plain gaze… 'Oof, even I might've gotten carried away by it,' she honestly admitted.
Others, including Haruna – Shingen's birth name – and other Princess Generals she knew, would be so insulted they'd give in to the pressure of their Guardian Spirits, transforming into their wretched forms via Realm Descent and irreparably injured themselves in the process with the added exertion.
Well, for one, she's not just any warrior. Things like pride and arrogance and mental anguish and despair were unknown to her, no matter how far she searched for opponents whom she expected would bring out these things her men called 'emotions'. Haruna couldn't do it. Ujiyasu couldn't do it. She's not sure whether Nobunaga could – but this 'blacksmith' of hers, irrespective whether he's telling the truth or not, also couldn't.
Inwardly, that was the most disappointing part of this duel. Yes, he'd brought out the part in her where her heart was beating uncontrollably, her face heating up and flushed, her loins trembling and bothered – all new things – but not despair.
She's also not sure whether she'd stick with her earlier opinion – one of disappointment – or actually glad such depressingly negative things wouldn't ever taint her blade.
"Guhahaha! Well, then, blacksmith," she emphasized that word, adding, "what do you say about finishing things up? I think your lord needs some company."
She could feel her own troops bristling, thinking about what she said and connecting all the wrong dots.
"I'll gladly provide that by stabbing her in the back!"
With a roar, she hurled her weapons into the air, kicking and punching them at the hilts to let them fly much like the oversized arrows her opponent shot earlier, before she grasped her separated twin sabres and sprinted along.
Nine blades against ten. She'd make it work.
One long spear. Two straight swords. Two katanas. Two sabres. One recurve chopping blade. One accompaniment wakizashi.
He, meanwhile, held five exact copies of a paired black-and-white blades.
As she clashed with him repeatedly earlier, her mind finally remembered where she'd heard of these two blades before. There was a legendary blacksmithing couple from Wazoku's history, whose souls were said to inhabit these divine blades after they met their gruesome ends. She's not too sure on the details, but she didn't care – all she needed to know was how strong they were.
All in the effort of toppling their might. Wasn't that what heroes were supposed to do?
She knew he was holding back. This distance should've been perfect for his quick-draw arrows, which she'd seen him shoot ridiculously fast with no prior movement, and wear her down for easy picking. Instead, he kept on insisting on using these copies… and she couldn't criticize him for that decision, either.
Because she couldn't breach his defence, no matter what. As a warrior, she could appreciate such decisions to maintain the status quo if one's opponent didn't show anything alarming.
Well, she's now aiming to at least change his expression, and bring back that earlier smile he flashed at her.
One of his eyes twitched at her words, before both of them turned silver.
'Ha! Nobunaga's his weakness!'
- …!
She regretted that decision instantly.
- Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.
Before she could realize what's going on, she felt her ribcage broke in a straight, diagonally downwards line – all the way from the collarbone to near her liver. She immediately cast the pain aside to asses what's going on, and her eyes wandered all around even as she didn't slow her stride.
She saw none of her weapons had changed trajectories or damaged, not even the one she's personally wielding close in front of her. She saw her opponent finish what she presumed to be a slashing motion – it's too fast for her conscience to process – and already in the way of a second one.
'DODGE!'
She willed her body to move, purposefully getting out of her projectiles' area of attack and defence, to ungracefully roll on the ground.
- BANG!
Earlier in the fight, that explosion sound was caused by the extreme force the arrow and her parries were carrying. This time, the ground where she just stood was cleaved in half, rock and grass equally turning into fine dust from the compressed invisible slash.
She quickly watched his movements again, and only now just noticed the strange five set of clicks just now.
The ten blades were combining into five.
Their form was completely different than before, not just merged into one. Each half elongated closer to a two-handed sword, where jagged half-tomoe structures lining their spines to match the decorative larger one on the integral guard. All of them matched up with their opposite twin, interlocking into perfectly circular yin-yang symbols, creating a double-edged longsword with a gentle wasp-like waist.
And as the second slash blurred in front of her, she could only grit her teeth and pushed forward, ignoring the protest of her shattered bones and the urge to cough out a mouthful of blood.
At the very least, she'd reduce the damage by Reinforcing just where the slash would land-
He's already in front of her.
The slash didn't come. A knee squarely pierced her abdomen instead, knocking the breath out of her body. On instinct, she instantly covered her now-exposed back – from her keeling form – with as much magical energy as she could muster, yet the remaining three blades shot downwards, right into his now-empty hands… and he slashed at her falling figure without mercy at point-blank range.
"A-A-AAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" She finally let out the loudest scream she'd ever produced in her life, surpassing even the reflex cries when she was just a newborn. "G-G-GGGUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The strikes weren't just deadly – they're heavy.
And her constant Reinforcement made it worse. Because instead of her dying in an instant without feeling any pain, it kept her body mostly intact as she could feel every pounded muscle fibre, every shattered bone, every squashed and rupturing organ.
Yet her body refused to let go of the enchantment, repairing herself in the wrong way and with a dangerous speed, as Reinforcement strengthened every cut synapses and tendons just as they were cut apart and smashed beyond recognition.
Inevitably, because of her uncontrollable Magic Circuits at the moment, her senses were also enhanced – especially pain. No, that wasn't the main issue, because she could handle pain.
Her sense of [Time] increased exponentially, meaning every second felt like four hundred.
- …
Kagetora didn't know how much time had passed, but what eventually brought her consciousness back – 'Did I faint?' – was the lack of pain.
"U-Urgh… K-Keho…" Her throat groaned in protest, trying to convey the vibrations from her voice box through clumps of hardened blood and pieces of internal organs. "A-Augh… N-Nyah!"
She yelped when his fingers grasped a clump of her hair up, lifting her head to force her face-to-face with the redhead.
It dawned on her this was the first time she ever truly paid attention to his appearance, instead of constantly calling him 'redhead' in her mind.
He was about her age, probably slightly older, with a very well-toned physique judging from the rippling muscles showing through the gaps in his clothing. She berated herself to fail to notice he's not wearing armour from the start, though that's perhaps understandable considering his skill in Reinforcement far outstripped hers.
Or the fact his attack power was the overwhelming one when compared to hers. She didn't know – just assumed the fact because she's confident in that aspect of her prowess, at least.
Certainly, the sensation of his skin she felt through her pained scalp indicated he's done a lot of hard graft, consistent with his own introduction as a blacksmith. It's nowhere conclusive, because a warrior could similarly have callouses on their own, but she herself didn't have those, strangely. Her hands were always smooth, dainty, and 'good signs for marriage', Kanetsugu always insisted.
Why would she ever think of marrying, anyway? Her man must be stronger than her, for one. Besides, she had no time to do so, with Haruna and now Nobunaga threatening her homeland…
…oh, there's a strong man right here.
'No! Shut up and focus! Gather your strength!' She bit her own tongue to snap her wandering thoughts, noticing that as an indicator she's hurt really bad this time. She'd seen countless of her men and women going delirious at their final moments – did this mean she's about to die?
The angry expression she elicited from him earlier was gone, no more tangible than the ethereal spirits… as if the emotion he let out was a lie.
No, it was a lie. There's not a trace of animosity again from his still-silver eyes, shining so beautifully – just like his swordsmanship from earlier.
Anything which could defeat a divine-blessed warrior like her must be beautiful, right?
She was glad for his existence. Because of him… Because of him…
…now, Bishamonten could descend.
"Living Weapon."
She grinned, happy yet another one of her inborn limits were broken.
Since she was small, she was hopelessly useless with projectiles, even when throwing rocks at animals as a child. The most she could do right now was like earlier: kick as hard as she could in a straight line, and hope whatever weapon at the end of her leg flew just so. Magecraft, too, eluded her, though not nearly as bad. Still, all she could do at her current age was Reinforcement and channelling Od through her Magic Circuits to store and summon weapons from the [Item Box].
This duel had taught her the fact her martial prowess, too, still had some ways to go. Copying his Reinforcement, multi-weapon mastery, movement techniques, strategy, and minute tricks had improved her leaps and bounds. She could feel it without a shred of arrogance.
Still, it wasn't enough. The gap between their projectile skills and Magecraft were too much for her.
For example, there was no way she could dance with ten weapons circling around her with pinpoint precision like he did, which led to the heavy red scars running across her body before this. The concentration and control to maintain Projection amidst Reinforcement and Alteration were something she'd never even heard off, much less face personally – his Projection was different than the orthodox version, though.
Facing ten simultaneous slashes from every direction was too much, even for her. The fact he didn't need to personally wield them, instead taking advantage of the paired weapons' attributes, was also a freedom she didn't have, as his limbs were on occasion free to engage in hand-to-hand combat among the steel storm. There was a pattern to it… but by the gods she couldn't fathom it! it's as if he's adapting each movement and combination to her own response…
Now, imagine if she could do that, too? She'd surpass him and become the number-one undisputed warrior in the land.
Like, right now.
- Boom!
An explosion of magical energy ripped through the air around her, forcing him to let go of his grasp of her now-singed hair. She could feel it rippling through her undersized Magic Circuits – the main reason onmyōjis diagnosed was the cause of her non-talent in Magecraft – cracking open her skin in jagged, shining lines. Her already-sharp eyes slitted to the extreme, as her irises also changed shape into something much more feline.
No, that's not an eye even Byakko would have. That was not the expression of a Guardian Spirit.
It was the face of a God of War.
White lightning scorched the immediate area around her, stopping the incoming Kanetsugu and the troops, who'd finally had enough and gone against Kagetora's order to not assist.
The streaks of black in her hair disappeared, joining their brethren in turning snow-white.
"You know, I've never told you why we're fighting right now, haven't I?"
"Umm… I think I don't really care," the redheaded man simply brushed off the question, clearly disinterested.
"Fuhahaha! Spoken like a true loyal retainer!" Her laughter boomed. "It's because it's my duty to bring down judgement whether the war your lord brings is justice or not!" All of her weapons were summoned back to her side, floating dangerously in the air while being coated with the same divine energy. "Today, I, Uesugi Kenshin, shall determine Oda Nobunaga seeks to protect and help humanity or not!"
"Oh, so it's just that. I thought you're going to say something else."
If Kanetsugu was here, the little girl would most definitely blow her top off at the impolite tone the man used.
Kagetora, meanwhile, couldn't care even less. "Wahaha! Taste these blades of Bishamonten!"
Bloom violently, eightfold blossom
Ephemeral beauty, gallop forth
Bestow thine protection upon this soul
Brandish thine divine might in this body
Biten-Hassō Kuruma Gakari no Jin
~ Eight Flower Lances ~
Her body flickered, and thunder crackled.
Splitting into eight solid clones via the Authority of [Propagation], granted by the sudden unlocking of her latent abilities, she wielded all eight of her weapons – just like the name of this skill – and surrounded him in an instant before the smoke from her earlier outburst had settled.
As predicted, only his clothes were burnt horribly, leaving behind the naked skin of a very well-built man she envisioned his body should look like before, with only the lower part of his undershirt and upper part of his pants surviving. He had one of his arms raised to protect his face – she doubted he really needed it, given the level of his Reinforcement – and met all eight of her gazes with the ever-calm silver glow in his eyes.
He let go of all the blades he's holding – all five transformed weapons – and allowed it to levitate around him menacingly. It was remarkably done in slow-motion despite the intense speed dimension they should've entered by now, because she's definitely moving faster than she'd ever been.
'No, don't doubt yourself now!' She berated herself mentally. 'I'm faster now!'
People found it hard to believe this was her first successful attempt at activating Living Weapon. Despite her famed connection with Bishamonten, ironically, said god had never blessed her with an actual divine skill. It felt like the primal chaos in her, which disabled her ability to understand human emotion, was the Equivalent Exchange required for her astounding physical capability.
How could that be said as 'blessed', 'fortunate'? That was no different than anyone else – thus, why was she so different?
Remembering the smile on her sister's and Kanetsugu's and the people of Uesugi Clan's faces, she grew up believing she didn't care.
But, right now, she cared. Because it'd be crucial in achieving victory right now.
She knew very well how Living Weapons worked. More often than not, it was dependent on the intangibles, and not how physically strong or Thaumaturgically talented one was. Emotions – that's what it's going to take. The very one thing she lacked.
However, she was quite sure her opponent lacked it too. It's more of an instinct than anything else – they were more similar than they'd each like to admit, proven by how easily she could copy his skills.
"Taste my blad-"
"Break."
- BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
All the five floating blades around him exploded, just as all eight of her took the final sprint to launch her best attack, showering her in divine shrapnel of black and white, knocking her right out of her Living Weapon state.
- Stab!
"Ugah!"
- Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab!
Before her eyesight had returned to normal after the bright flash, her healed-up body from Bishamonten's Divine Blessing were torn apart again, this time with eight new holes from a crimson spear.
"A-AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
The more magic energy she tried to summon, the worse the pain became… until it was unbearable, and tears started flowing again from her eyes. 'A-Anti Magic?!'
Spread-eagled, both her palms and feet were speared to the ground with one red lance each, and the remaining four targeted her shoulder and hip joints, truly preventing her from moving this time. "K-Kuh…! S-So you will humiliate me, after all…!" She still grinned audaciously, fearlessly shouting at the person who had her at his complete mercy in this embarrassing voice.
Given she'd executed fools who'd rape a worse-looking female corpse, her divine body should be arousing to him right now, right? After all, she just had eight extra holes in her body – a far cry from the nauseating mutilated remains necrophiliac criminals were fond of.
How exciting! She felt her first rush of ecstasy in the fight, felt her first arousal in clashing blades, felt the first tearful pain in her life, and now… her experience just kept piling up and up! 'I can't wait to report to Nee-san after this!'
- Fwip!
Of course, nothing ever went to plan for her, especially today.
"No. No no no no no no no! Hey, no!"
A newfound vigour powered her tired and wounded body to wrestle against the mystical crimson spears in futility, screaming and hollering at the redhead to put his attention back to her.
There was an arrow clasped in his palm.
Clearly, it came from the impatient Kanetsugu and the Uesugi troops.
Kagetora looked on, horrified, as he slowly turned his head towards the wildly charging small army.
"Protect Kagetora-sama! Kill that bastard!" Kanetsugu's shrill and childish voice rang loud and true across the distance between the two, she herself drawing her katana as she forced her horse to sprint.
"NO! NO! NO! HEY, HEY! LOOK AT ME! LOOK HERE! CUT OFF THIS UESUGI KENSHIN'S HEAD! I'M SURE YOU'LL GET REWARDED HANDSOMELY!" A desperate voice so alien to her own self shot out of Kagetora's mouth, yet still, despite the inner strength it granted her, the spears didn't budge one bit, its [Anti-Magic] attribute clearly hampering the accumulation of any Od within and through her Magic Circuits. "THEY DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH OUR DUEL! THEY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! LEAVE THEM OUT OF IT!"
He smiled.
Crouching down so their faces were closer, he quietly said as he let the arrows bounce off his toughened skin, "Just in time. You have trained them well."
"YOU-!"
"That's not the tone you use to ask someone, right?"
She bit her lower lip, before softly adding, "P-Please… j-just let me go. I'll make sure we retreat! You won't see us challenging Nobunaga again! PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU! JUST TAKE MY HEAD OFF AND GO!"
She didn't even realize she's contradicting her points in her increasing volume. She did, however, notice his expression didn't change in the slightest.
She had failed to change his mind.
In the past, all which was at stake was Kagetora herself. Her reputation, her well-being, her safety, her wealth, her possessions, et cetera. Now, it's the lives of her people.
"Ah, I seem to recall you asking for my identity earlier? Given you've loudly proclaimed your name, it'll be unfair if I don't do so in return, no?" The redhead calmly said, not caring the constant peppering of arrows pelting his invulnerable skin.
Kanetsugu and the rest were very close now, and any second…
"Though I guess this should do; you'll know my name soon enough, anyway."
A bright golden light temporarily blinded everyone, before revealing itself to be a floating, impossibly-beautiful, double-tasselled katana made of pure gold. Everything, from the handle, guard, tsuba, and blade, was all gold. Only the ornate purple spheres serving as the tassels' decoration broke up the luxurious monotony – still, it managed to take everyone's breath away.
One, because it was otherworldly. Two… because everyone had seen it before.
Painted across storybooks, temples, engravings, legends, and knockoffs…
The heavenly sword, Daitsūren. The favoured sword of the Heian Era's foremost Princess General, Suzuka Gozen, who channelled her powers as a wolf tennyo and Demon Princess of the Fourth Heaven. Together with her husband Minamoto-no-Yoritomo, she helped to establish peace in the land by subjugating the people who opposed the human-yōkai union, particularly the Taira Clan, and one of the founding pillars of the Minamoto Shogunate who reigned until this day.
Children had heard of her gallant stories, granting little girls the dream-like possibility they, too, weren't inferior to men. The romantic story between her and her eventual husband – and, technically, her fellow wives as well – which bridged species and classes at the time, had laid the foundations of many human-yōkai marriage.
…which they just so happened to gloss over the fact Yoritomo, too, had yōkai blood. But going into such details didn't help to sell the story, so the bards chose to omit it.
As someone who aspired and had travelled down the martial path, Daitsūren's details were burned into Kagetora's mind, such was the zeal she read Suzuka Gozen's stories with.
"EVERYONE RRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"
Alas, no one listened to her.
Chant thine written work
As I unravel the pillow's cords
Hear my voice, let thee be known far and wide
Daitsūren, cover the skies with the Eight Clouds
Spear the throngs of sparrows and evil spirits
O' Sword of Transcendent Wisdom and Knowledge
Daishintō, blast thine love
Heavenly Demon Rain
~ Mañjuśrī's Mythical Grand Sword ~
A gigantic magic circle formed in the air, bathing their immediate battleground with ominous golden light – one of three lilies and chrysanthemum.
Her throat was hoarse and probably full of blood, but Kagetora still managed to breathe out, "Minamoto…"
Before she finished that word, her subordinates' bodies were already skewered by countless golden blades.
There she was, lying on the ground helpless, forced to watch as they screamed and yelled and fought and bled and collapsed and died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died died…
"Kagetora-sama!"
Her vision was momentarily blocked by an incredibly familiar petite body, before being blurred by a waterfall of tears.
There Kanetsugu was, ever the reliable and lovable retainer, doing her best to uproot a crimson spear twice her height. Despite her palms bleeding profusely from the effort, despite the paleness apparent in her fingers from the sheer Conceptual Weight initiated from the Minamoto Clan's iconic Sorcery Trait – [Noble Phantasm] – and despite the redhead was standing right there… she still crawled through that hellish magical storm and made her way here, all bloodied and messed up.
"K-Kanetsugu… L-Leave me… T-That's an order…!"
"No! I… I-I…! I'll spend my life until the end with you!"
- Clap. Clap.
"How commendable."
- Stab!
"NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
A fountain of blood sprayed all across Kagetora's face, coming from the protruding gold katana piercing right through Kanetsugu's chest.
The petite girl gurgled out something she couldn't quite make out, apart from a small, dying whisper.
"K-Kagetora-sama…"
Then, she fell face-down, her warmth rapidly draining out.
"Aaa… Aaaaaaaaa…"
Today, Kagetora cried thrice. Two times earlier, when she received injuries far more severe than she'd ever had in her life.
One time right now, with blood streaming down her eyes as she glared hatefully at the blacksmith.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Glossary Update!
B
Black Arts Decapitation Method – Yin-Yang Manual
Rank: A+
Type: Anti-Unit, Anti-Army
Range: 1~50
Max. Targets: 50
A series of assassination techniques Danzō compiled through her life and death. It centred around the most public, gruesome methods of killing to dissuade enemies, born among a culture which rewarded such methods to end bloody wars as soon as possible. Achieved through mastery of human and yōkai anatomy, and only able to be performed with an inhuman body to its fullest.
Due to Danzō's gentle nature, she had sealed this Noble Phantasm unless absolutely necessary. A Master who forced her to activate this through a Command Seal would find her affinity points dropping to the negative instantly.