What's up? What's up? What's up?

...yeah, that kind of 'rap opening' doesn't really suit my preferences. Wonder how the other writers manage it?

On somewhat of a continuation of a topic from last time, I've recently just browsed the upcoming Fall 2021 anime season. Having voiced out my disappointment for the previous one, I'm... honestly waiting to be surprised - in a good way - by a few left field suggestion. Of course, you guys can convince me to watch something! Looking forward to Mushoku Tensei 2nd season (because I'm impressed of the animation and art quality of the first one, even though I know its storyline is an acquired taste), SAO Progressive (big fan of the manga; not sure how the anime will pan out; pretty sure the OP & ED are going to be bomb!), Saihate no Paladin, Assassin-Aristocrat (you guys know which one; the name's too long)... and a few others. Definitely, definitely NOT going to watch the Prince of Tennis movie.

Like the last AN, this is a special Mailbag section made of conversations with readers - this time, it's specifically superpierce. Now, despite their lack of numbers, they more than made up for it in great questions and topics. If you all have been paying attention to our past talks, they usually end up in half-spoilers, so keep your eyes peeled! Of course, the following has been edited for length and clarity.

superpierce: (...) [Was the] Battle of Thermopylae more intense than [historical] canon, or was it basically the same with only a few minor differences than, say, the Spartans and Xerxes forces having access to basic Magecraft like Reinforcement and being blessed by their specific gods?
ekaterina016: I honestly don't know, because I'm not interested in writing that scene. You may assume whatever you like.

superpierce: Are the Precursors like the gods and are thus aliens or were they something else?
ekaterina016: You can equate the AC Precursors with the last generation of Aletheia machines. I'm not going to use any of the canon Precursors when the Nasuverse or other canons have much more interesting characters. I think Ubisoft has done a terrible job in creating an actually interesting deity when they decided to go with that story route.

This one's the usual mailbag! I'm always happy and glad if something I wrote becomes a nice hotspot of conversation and discussion, even if the start or outcome aren't always positive. Let me know what you think of this chapter as well, and keep it coming!
Ghost151: As you can observe throughout the HV series, I never do that. At most, I just put in an M-rated warning at the top because, honestly, I don't write those chapters with a specific genre in mind. They can flow from one fetish to another, though I mostly keep them somewhat in line. Thank you for your suggestion, though; I'll seriously consider it. (...) Personally, I'm currently uncomfortable writing those genres purely because I don't think my skills are up to par, so you don't have to worry in the near future. However, later, when I (perhaps) do use those, either for drama, pure lemon, or whatever, I'll be sure to notify you and the others in the AN. Don't forget ancient culture and logic are also different than our modern one, so you'll certainly find more jarring stuff sprinkled throughout my series.
superpierce: Both groups have long looked down upon the Reverse Side of the World, eager to solely use ancient technology and artifact to push mankind (and only mankind) forwards. Of course, they're doing it in different ways, but in essence, they're quite opposed to what the Heroic Vessels are attempting to do. The Order wants to enslave Mysteries to further their goals of world domination, while the Brotherhood wants to slaughter most, if not all, non-humans in the name of 'freeing humanity from the old shackles'. That's the gist of it, and I'll delve deeper into it when I get to Europe in the future.
Royal Freshness12345: Danzou's burns were the literal manifestation of the AC game franchise's critics. It's honestly not a new argument. Yup. If you're familiar with Jeanne's historical lore, she had strong connections with three Divine Spirits who initiated her into her missionary and military work in the first place. Thus, it's exceedingly simple for any fanfiction involving her to reuse these higher-level beings during her execution. Maybe I can expose that more clearly in writing in the next few chapters? I'm not sure if my implication was obvious/clear enough... No, 'Maouken' was Avenger Nobunaga's main weapon. I'm not going for her Saber variant. Probably either Ruler or Avenger. Regarding names, have you seen some aristocrat family lineages? Altria - Altera is nowhere near as egregious as those naming conventions. Besides, I'm about to use this happenstance as a minor plot point during HV-S01: RKR's rewrite, so I don't have a particular problem with it.
ghost777: You got that right! Also, note that I use different formatting for [Order] and 'the Order'. The former is referring to the concept and Origin, while the latter is purely for the group.

"Welcome. Is this your first time here?"

"Please don't use your prostitutes' client-calling tone…" Mitsuhide sighed, shaking her voluminous dolphin-tail around. Despite the amount of ultra-sharp blades lining her surroundings, she's not overly concerned the shiny black hair she'd so painstakingly groomed all these years – both culturally important and to attract the man she loved the most. "I know you take care of those girls so well, but… knowing you, it's very jarring."

Chiyome giggled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is, though!" Mitsuhide quickly insisted, stomping childishly in front of a woman nearly a decade older than her, but one head smaller. "Believe it!"

"Chiyome-san, please stop teasing her. You're becoming eviller and eviller with every time we meet…" Nobunaga complained, flicking her crimson long hair over her shoulders. Suddenly, she instinctively rubbed her shoulders and shuddered. Surprised at this physical reaction in a place where temperature was supposed to be well-regulated, she hesitantly turned her head towards… Chiyome, whose eyes had slitted over and gazed upon her predatorily. "Oh, no…" she bemoaned.

"That is quite enough, Chiyome-sama," Danzō interjected. "I concur with Kippōshi-san's feelings."

"Muu… You guys are not fun at all…" Chiyome stuck out her semi-transformed tongue: not quite as long as the one she usually used in her forceful blowjobs, but still elongated and split by the end. "It's not 'evil'; it's 'mischief'!"

"Yes, yes. We're all familiar with your tricks, now," Nobunaga grumbled, folding her arms under her now-voluptuous chest. She was silently thankful of her growth genes transferring over to this new incarnation, since she'd be remiss if her great figure of another reality went unappreciated by the life partner she's now found in Muramasa. "Now, please guide Jūbei properly."

"Indeed, indeed," the young girl in question nodded sagely, before cluelessness returned to her face, followed by childish curiosity. "…indeed. This place… is even more fantastical than Genbu's palace…"

Wielder of Heavenly Guardian Spirits like Mitsuhide usually went through stricter hidden selection and challenges than the normal, fate- and luck-based or inherited partnerships. They all culminated in learning directly inside the Spirits' own Domain, their Marble Phantasm-esque Texture in the Reverse Side of the World. Experiences and lessons from each predecessor resulted in the now-popular Sage Mode, which was rare in the past because despite a similar density in Mystery, the way it interacted with commoners' daily life was different – the former more instinctive but natural, the latter more structured but artificial.

Mitsuhide was speaking of Genbu's underwater palace, which embodied the [North] and actually shared a Texture with the Element [North Star] and similar navigational attributes… which, admittedly, its brethren all shared, with their personal constellations and seasonal powers. That said, these complicated parts, in the end, boiled back down to the simple and popular division of the Five Heavenly Guardian Spirits. It was a classical Eastern-style complex, with various aquatic elements decorating the moonlit marble structures. Of course, that latter part was a contradiction upon itself, because any building standing on the seafloor should've been encased in complete darkness, showing the light source and lighting angle were both otherworldly and unnatural.

However, speaking of that last two adjectives… Genbu's palace had nothing on where the four women were now.

Mitsuhide was showing the awestruck expression each of the other girls did when she was first shown this sight.

The faraway horizons, on either side, beamed with a sunrise's piercing intensity and the moon's welcoming luminosity, clad by unnaturally clear and cloudless skies with varying colours and brightness of stars. The way they're positioned gave off an infinite sense of distance, as if they'd going to be continually out of reach no matter how far one travelled in one direction.

Instead, the closer to her standing position as it got, the sky gradually began to gradate with clouds – initially thin and wispy, slowly accumulating to solid, tall, large cumulonimbi without a hint of dark storm typical with their size. One other striking feature was how they coalesced into gears, at times interlocking like an intricate pocket watch's innards, at times floating independently like small islands among the multicoloured sky.

The latter also shifted across the landscape: dawn's typical rainbow-like shade combination of violet, azure, gold, and vermillion; midnight's pure black, interspersed with soft galactic lilac from the Milky Way and shards of otherworldly auroras; a midsummer's bright, pure sky-blue right on top of the girls' heads; then, everything in between. Swivelling one's head around gave off a sense of being inside a surrealist painting, where there was no perspective points or lines and a 360° view was assumed.

These celestial features, combined with a soft, mildly chilly and pleasing wind, along with the plush wild grass under their feet, made for a scene these girls from Nihon had never seen before. Their empire was full of majestic mountains, fertile cliffsides and elevations, raging but cold and rich ocean, and mystical, serene temples among packed cities and villages. Wide open expanses like this, especially with the gentle undulations giving variety to the horizon line, was as alien to them as the Mongolian steppe or the Gobi Desert.

However, they weren't the most striking thing inside this dimension.

That honour went to the countless blades littered everywhere, pierced standing to the ground like tombstones.

…if that's truly the case, then this, surely, was the most beautiful and stunning cemetery in existence.

Wisps of heroic figures came and went – unfortunately, this instant, there's no one willing to morph themselves partially solid to greet the newcomer Mitsuhide. Still, the young girl spent several minutes 'ooh'-ing and 'aah'-ing everything, because she might as well be in paradise.

Suffice to say many warrior cultures across history had their own embellishments, but one thing was constant: honour and prowess. The two might be unrelated in some parts, while being completely dependent on each other in another; regardless, what Mitsuhide was feeling right now, in contrast to the other girls when they first come here, was pure and innocent admiration.

Each individual weapon contained such a rich history and Conceptual Weight she, who was less sensitive to these attributes than her beloved senpai, could feel it from several feet away. Their original wielders' happiness, passions, regrets, fighting spirit… As the purest field combatant among the four, it's clear Mitsuhide's level of appreciation of Unlimited Blade Works surpassed them all to the point of mild jealousy. This intense emotion even overwhelmed the constant stream of Muramasa's current and past meMōries with every second they spend in here, such was her fascination and desire to learn from absolutely everything and everyone here.

Thus, she unconsciously staggered towards where she felt the most powerful item was located… before Chiyome and Danzō extended her limb and scarf respectively to restrain her.

"My, my, that won't do, Jūbei-chan," the serpentine kunoichi smiled, her expression a mixture of understanding and amusement. "Let's stroll along together instead of splitting apart, shall we?"

Seeing her closest retainer being bound like a suckling pig – appropriate, considering Mitsuhide's billowy clothing and voluminous hair added a considerable amount of volume to when her figure was tied up together – Nobunaga couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Kufufufu… What, like those horror stories of old where the protagonists always meet their doom when they decide so, Chiyome-san?"

"Exactly!" Chiyome nodded, inadvertently shaking Mitsuhide vertically all of a sudden, eliciting a yelp from the girl. "O-Oh, sorry!"

"Mgmphf!" The blue-clad warrior protested through her binding, before she was let go. "Pweh! Y-You don't need to gag my mouth, do you?!"

She shot an annoyed glare at Chiyome, but it was the buxom kunoichi who answered, "Er… Pardon me, the culprit is I…"

"O-Oh, i-if it's you, D-Danzō-san…"

Nobunaga suddenly felt she'd spent too much time hanging around Louíse and Masamune, since she instinctively repeated the nun's usual reproach to the Owari Princess General's not-girlfriend, "Jūbei, your phrasing is a bit…"

Of course, Chiyome was even quicker to the draw. "Oh? What a pink atmosphere we're having here!"

The usually-silent Unlimited Blade Works, since the typical monologuing guy and its master wasn't here, was then filled with the typical cacophony and raucousness of women bickering. Still, since everyone present was skilled in multitasking, they then proceeded with their original plan: help Mitsuhide get used to the Dream Cycle.

"So… this is Senpai's dreamland?" The young girl asked, still at times stealing a caress or ogle at several of the weapons they walked past. "I assume, then, these are the memory fragments of the people who manage to impress him? I know this man we know has walked the Earth for many times, but… for they to be this many…"

Danzō corrected her quickly, however. "That… is not quite right, Jūbei-dono…"

"Ah, you're back using keigo again!" Mitsuhide exclaimed, one finger pointing at the buxom kunoichi while the other rested on her hip. "No more! We're sisters, now!"

"Apologies. 'Tis a habit," Danzō caught herself, smiling in return. "Now, to continue my explanation: This is Shirō-sama's soul. His deepest depths, laid bare for us to see and touch."

Chiyome butted in, "Of course, finding it is another matter entirely. Though what you'll find is no different than what you receive outside."

"He's awfully honest that way," Nobunaga chirped, lightly smirking. "Sometimes to a fault."

"Hehehe… I know that very well, too." Mitsuhide blushed and grinned simultaneously, mimicking her senpai's mannerism by scratching the back of her head with one hand. "So, if there's nothing particularly interesting to discover here – since you all seem intent on interfering with my museum tour! – is there an advantageous effect we can gain here?"

"Yes." Now taking the lead, Nobunaga immediately bade a beeline towards a particular direction, not quite hastening her pace but insisting on a sharper caution with her bodily behaviour. "Other than I enjoy feeling his torrent of emotions as intimately as this, we're here for information. When I opened my eyes and saw all of you here, complete, I think this is a good chance."

"Hm? Nobunaga-sama, do you know the way around here?" Mitsuhide questioned, having sensed the looping and never-ending dimensional effect as she rotated her gaze around. "The 'innermost place' you indicated… doesn't seem to be landmarked anywhere. Can we open a spiritual portal here without harming Senpai?"

"Ah, there's another trick to that," Chiyome explained. "We are… 'walking', correct? Theoretically speaking, since we're in a spiritual, separate place, the law of distance doesn't apply. If we want and are skilled enough, we can simply teleport from place-to-place in this dimension. Of course, Shirō can do it…" Suddenly, she cupped her cheeks, feeling warmth on her face from an upcoming blush. "…I once got lost around here, and he rescued me. Aaaahhhh…" Showing a squealing, messy expression she'd never do in front of others – or in the real world, full stop – she immediately added, "It was my first time, both in fucking and stepping foot here…"

"Yes, yes… Let's move on," Nobunaga interrupted. "You tell that story every single time we meet here, so carve her words in mind, Mitsuhide. That way, you can claim you've heard it before." Looking back for an instant just to check on Chiyome's stuck-out tongue, she continued, "As you can see, this world lowers our inhibition on… whatever's related to Shirō. While it's completely safe and encouraging to do, let's do that another time."

"We are here to gather information," Danzō summarized what Nobunaga was implying since earlier. "This place contains knowledge unrecorded by our scrolls and books, because history is constantly being changed by unscrupulous hands." She gestured and swept with her hand, showcasing the blades by her side. "Learning from the past has its advantages, as you know very well, Jūbei-san."

"Finally, a friendly keigo! Ah, whoops… I was enjoying myself too much, there." Mitsuhide initially cheered Danzō's changed manner of addressing her, while simultaneously partially locking the kunoichi's neck with the inside of her elbow. It made for an awkward gaunt, since Danzō was significantly taller than the Akechi Princess General, and the younger girl quickly sobered up and caught herself. "Apologies, there. It seems it's not just Chiyome-san!"

"Fufu… of course. If I, the most experienced one among you in this dimension, falls prey to it, then what chance do you have?" The serpentine girl smugly puffed out her meagre chest – still the smallest despite her latest (minor) growth spurt and her claim. "Now, to continue our main conversation topic, Kippōshi-san here is 'walking' to gather her focus to let us arrive at our destination. It's akin to a Single-Action spell, which is easier for us to adjust than meditating for relative hours and teleporting directly there."

The person mentioned was grumbling to herself at what Chiyome said earlier, however. "'Most experienced'… even though I met Shirō first and was his childhood friend…" Indeed, Nobunaga knew him the longest, yet he chose to screw and marry Chiyome, instead of waiting for her to secure enough political backing. She realized this plan was an unspoken one – and Muramasa was likely unaware of this intent – but still…! 'Can't he have the decency to read a woman's heart…?!'

"Kippōshi-san?"

"KYAH!"

Her scream jolted everyone else, who instantly shot her a curious glare of varying intensity… since the normally-serious and confident Nobunaga just squeaked like a little girl when Danzō broke her out of her jealous trance.

"W-W-W-W-WHAT IS IT…?!"

Despite her desperate attempts to calm herself, the aforementioned effects of Unlimited Blade Works – which she herself had just explained – combined with her natural internal disposition meant her tone was still ridiculously and comically high.

"We have arrived."

"O-Oh…"

The four of them arrived at an intricate circular formation, similar to the ancient British ritualistic practice, though made of various blades and arms instead of inhumanly large stones. It's difficult to summarize their appearances, because each of them was so intricate and beautiful – and so was everything else around, really – choosing to merely glance and appreciate their details from the corner of the girls' eyes felt disrespectful. Mitsuhide had it worst, since she's practically shaking from excitement at the chance to study these artifacts up close, but reined herself in to quickly finish up what Nobunaga wanted to do here.

She'd felt what a few minutes did to her self already; what would happen if she spent hours, days… or even eternity here? The fact this was the innermost soul of her most beloved person made it so enticing, especially because there's no way he'd let any harm come to her both instinctively and intentionally.

…a life of being pampered inside her senpai – ironic, yes – while learning countless techniques from all the people recorded here.

'Sounds good…'

- Pa!

Nobunaga lightly smacked her back to, this time, be the one who knocked some sense into others. "You'll have your chances later, Jūbei. Do close your mouth and wipe your drool."

"H-How did you read my m-mind, Nobunaga-sama?! I-Is this a new Magecraft?!" Mitsuhide exclaimed, exaggeratedly jumping away and clutching her head in her arms, pretending to shield it from any telepathic communication. However, she soon noticed the strange look on the other three girls' faces – they're rather unappreciative to her instinctive efforts to slow them up and soak in the atmosphere, which was so new to her. "Fine, fine… My apologies. Let's continue." She finished with a mischievous glint in her eyes towards Nobunaga. "I won't let this trivia go unnoticed, however, Nobunaga-sama."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Now, now, don't fight~!" Chiyome musically interfered, her tone a bad attempt at mixing a cajoling, motherly sternness with an oiran's seductive sweetness. "Jūbei-san, what do you notice from this arrangement?"

The young girl coughed to regain her composure and revert back to her usual studious personality. "The circular formation is obviously ritualistic… or perhaps closer to a religious mimicry? I know Senpai's not a particularly devout person… or is his understanding simply too great and results in a scientific, pragmatic approach? Uuu… I'm confused…"

Feeling rather guilty, Nobunaga rubbed Mitsuhide's steaming head. From this contact, she could palpably feel Unlimited Blade Works' stream of information going into the younger girl, who's clearly not used to staying here for extended periods of time. The redhead recognized her retainer's desire, because there were times she simply didn't wish to wake up from this pleasant dream – alone, yes, but far more embodying of her lover's existence than ever before. "Take a deep breath, and continue."

"Er… E-Eh, anyway! Since each weapon here embodies a spirit, then this is certainly a band of great warriors! Judging from their markings, an ancient Nanban culture… from Britannia…?" She gasped. "Ah! Don't tell me… the Knights of the Round Table?! But… that mythical holy sword is to the side, and not the centre…" she observed.

That group was famous enough texts of it survived all the way to Nihon since the Heian Period, whose conclusion opened up new trade routes and items for the island nation, irrespective of their subsequent invasion by Mongol forces. In fact, perhaps because of said event Yoshitsune grew eager to expand her boundaries and collected all sorts of trinkets from afar, authorizing many merchant ships to export and import under the Minamoto Clan's name. Of course, her naval forces never reached beyond South Asia, but it was enough to gather plenty of texts regarding Nanban history and legend.

Given Nihon's changed demeanour towards anything foreign, started under Yoritomo's reign and continued by his sister, stories from civilization's start, beginning right after Sefar's defeat, became popular as a form of confirmation of Nihon's own creation story. Because the empire was more in touch with its Reverse Side of the World, near-live witnesses were readily available, such as Shuten-dōji's father who technically lived at or around that time period, but hadn't regained enough intelligence to become the legendary figure he was now. Still, Yamata-no-Orochi was able to discuss things directly with the deities who stood up to Sefar at the time, such as the Zōkasanshin… though they were eventually defeated, as history recorded, until the holy sword's wielder surfaced.

Chiyome and Shuten-dōji naturally knew of this fact intimately, given their relationship to the eight-headed serpent. This was the memory the former was constantly searching through the Dream Cycle, either in Unlimited Blade Works or directly in visions, since she suspected this great hero – the title of 'First' instead of 'King', which Gilgamesh of Uruk held – was actually an incarnation of her husband.

That's one of the frustrating things of the stance the couple was taking right now. A silent consensus meant it's incredibly difficult to change and for either one to take the first step towards breaking the barrier. The assurance given and shown throughout their married life wasn't enough for her to truly open up how curious she was of her husband's deepest secrets. What if he was insulted and became angry? What if he left her? What if he hit her?

…or, worst of all, would he hate her?

At times, she was really glad for her kunoichi training, since it provided her with a pragmatic side to combat this irrational one. Many families were torn apart – blood-related or not – because of this baseless, evidence-less problem spiralled uncontrollably right towards destruction. The solution: the dreaded 'talk' – one which she had exactly zero courage to initiate.

However, there was another option.

She noticed her husband seemed to be prone to exposition right after a turning point in their lives, usually a battle. Accelerating and perfecting 'Tenka Fubu' should remedy this, putting them directly in front of continuous challenges… which should lead to Muramasa's mouth opening just that slightest bit more, beyond his usual honeyed words and husky lewd comments.

Oblivious to Chiyome's complex thoughts, Mitsuhide continued her hypothesis, "Yeah… the centrepiece is actually less-adorned than some of its surrounding elements, but… shall I say it combines practicality and aesthetics better than the rest? I mean… Excalibur to the side here," she gestured towards the famous blue-gold longsword, and a learned woman like her clearly recognize it from one glance, "should be front-and-centre in any display, right? But… this centre one has more… 'Senpai' feel to it, I guess?"

Nobunaga nodded enthusiastically to the side, while Danzō audibly confirmed, "'Tis because the centre is… or was hand-crafted by Shirō-sama, much like he forges our weapons today. Some documents I have uncovered indicated this was not the original – how the world decreed it so, I emphasize – henceforth, it has more subjective value to him."

The redheaded Princess General clicked her tongue at that final explanation, and folded her arms in annoyance. "Yes… so much 'value' the spirit inside has grown so haughty she won't come out and greet us out of politeness and manners." She flicked her vermillion hair to the side, before ushering Mitsuhide towards one of the accompanying pieces. "That's why we're not going to bother disturbing it and ask her anything… No, wait – she's going to demand we beg instead. I don't have the patience for it today. Arrogant bit-"

A sharp crimson light, the exact same shade as her Gasha-Dokuro, suddenly erupted from the centre blade's main flats, shooting Nobunaga right on the forehead and blasting her several yards backwards.

"OW!" While tumbling about – the blades surrounding them magically shuffled aside as to avoid getting squashed and dirties – Nobunaga yelled, "I KNOW YOU HEARD ME, ███████!"

Knowing there's no way any harm could've come to her lord in this dimension, despite being her first time here, Mitsuhide continued to observe the clearly-cherished longsword, attempting to divine the identity of this person who, in Muramasa's subjective opinion, deserved a higher seat in his soul than the famous holy sword's chief wielder.

It didn't mean this central longsword couldn't be of a [Holy] Element – just that the main thing Mitsuhide felt from it was [Fire]. One of the [Dragon] kind, a rare enough attribute she recognized it instantly, because her peer who had Seiryū as a Guardian Spirit obviously prioritized [Wood], which was weak to Suzaku's [Fire]. Thus, a [Fire Dragon] was immediately connected to Nanban culture in her mind, because most Asian divine serpents were of life-nourishing elements such as [Rain], [River], [Fertility], [Royalty], and so on, instead of Western depictions of it as 'evil' and 'destructive' after Christianity's booming popularity, due to a misinterpretation of the holy texts.

But… no matter how hard she recalled the countless lines of texts she read of British culture, the exact name constantly escaped her mind like that time she was first taught to process unagi by her beloved senpai.

…almost as if the world had decided to erase this particular information from human minds. The name Nobunaga yelled out earlier angrily was also redacted from everyone's mind, not just Mitsuhide – Chiyome and Danzō simply knew who the person residing inside the sword was, instead of being able to hear Nobunaga's words.

- Pat. Pat. Pat.

The redhead roughly batted away the figurative dirt covering her after that tumble, recovering with a pissed-off face and swollen forehead. Despite the realistic surroundings, physics worked differently inside Unlimited Blade Works, and nothing would get dirty or deteriorate unless the owner consciously allowed it so during battle. Hence, Nobunaga's appearance was still as pristine as she was the first time they gathered.

"Shit… This is why I don't like coming to these parts…" she grumbled, though managing to shook off her irritation with a quick shake of the head. "Anyway… Chiyome-san, you can begin."

To extract information about an enemy's present, one must learn of their past first.

Thus, they begin to approach the various arms laying about, starting from Excalibur.

"Hah!"

Chiyome woke up with a gasp, instinctively bringing the back of her wrist to her chin, knowing unsightly drool was usually already drying along the lines of her lips' edges down to her jaw. The memory of her husband chuckling at her messy, bleary self had long established this habit, determined never to let him see this side of her again. Typically, this was partially achieved by waking up at around the same time as he did, claiming a rotating morning shift between breakfast and their respective businesses. Muramasa was unlikely to notice such tiny, ugly details when three of his main passions were involved – namely, Chiyome herself, cooking, and blacksmithing.

Unfortunately, today wasn't one of those days.

Regardless, her effort was completely useless. Unbeknownst to her, her husband often enjoyed seeing her dishevelled face just prior to her waking up, before pretending to go back to sleep when she started stirring. Ironically, it's Chiyome who missed this 'tiny, ugly detail' because it involved one of her main passions – namely, her husband. Noticing someone faking sleep wasn't a difficult thing to do for a kunoichi, but more often than not, she's waking up after exhausting herself riding Muramasa's cock, and the subsequent increased sense of security by being wrapped in his arms lowered her guard and senses significantly.

"Good morning."

"UWAH!"

Predictably, Chiyome jumped hysterically the moment her impromptu plan failed, before urgently covering her face with both palms and adding a back-turn to face the other way. "D-Don't look at m-me!"

"Really, why are you repeating that line you're so fond of when you're young?" Her husband asked patiently, reaching out with his far longer limbs – in normal form, at least – to lift her by the waist and onto her lap. "Besides, why aren't I informed of this… sleepover of yours? Did you have fun defiling my own soul from the inside?"

Instead of answering him, she tried to wiggle free while simultaneously trying to sniff around for her own body odour. "L-Let me go first! Bath! I'll bath first!"

- Sniff…

She felt him burying his face in the nape of her neck, which, as usual, gave off an unwanted shiver of pleasure. While she'd usually give in to that and go right back to either foreplay or cuddling, it's not really a good time for it. "P-Please… Shirō…"

"Why the shyness, my dear wife? I don't mind your smell…"

"You know perfectly well why! Let go!" She quietly shrieked, pinching his muscular lower arms in irritation. Still, his hug didn't budge, only tightened. She then chose to slap the binding limbs repeatedly, harshly whispering, "Just… H-How about we go in together? N-Not now, okay…?"

"Sure. But the others are waking up, so why not wait for them to gather themselves?" He teasingly asked, fully knowing Chiyome already realized what he's about to reveal. "Did you do something untoward in Unlimited Blade Works? Hm? Something to feel guilty about?"

He nuzzled back in, sneaking in pecks to her slim neck, causing her to squirm beautifully in her arms. Playful, as if what he's implying wouldn't outright be fatal to him if actually done. For instance, if Sefar unleashed Photon Ray inside, and he clashed it with Slash Emperor, it would've outright erased his current existence and end his mission. Given the Heroic Vessels' Knight Arms were literally powered by their own souls, just one use would've weakened them significantly afterwards, as well as annihilating the erected Reality Marble instantly, given the Bounded Field was similarly formed from one's spiritual strength. Chiyome was flattered he had no such fear with her or the other girls, giving them complete but silent confidence to roam freely and without fear in his innermost depths.

Well, technically, that 'innermost depths' was somewhere even deeper inside the Reality Marble; a place he knew and felt existed, the crystallization of his Knight Arms the same way Avalon was both a Noble Phantasm and an interdimensional Bounded Field, but never actually entered. Therefore, it could be said the only way he could be spiritually affected was indeed through Unlimited Blade Works.

A risk all Heroic Vessel carried, yet the increase in power and Conceptual Weight made it worthwhile. It's fine to have a known, pinprick-sized weakness in exchange for near-invincibility instead of an all-round, flawless ability which wasn't powerful enough to save or protect anyone. Right at the very end, it resulted in the formation and crystallization of the miracle they all called 'Knight Arms', which undoubtedly exchanged their current existence for power. Their strength only increased when one considered it's not just their 'souls' which was offered, but Alaya's too, empowering them without fail against those who would threaten humanity.

- Srrt.

Suddenly, Chiyome felt even more weight was pressing down on her. Turning her flexible neck back to check, she found the rest of the girls had just woken up and had piled on top of Muramasa, clearly in some sort of playful and jealous gesture.

"If you're playing horse, then count me in," Nobunaga declared as haughtily as always, though with a gentle smile on her face.

Indeed, what surprised Muramasa in the first place was finding the girls all sharing the same room… without him knowing. He just found out during a cursory scan of his surroundings with his Pure Eyes when he'd just returned from scouting the southern regions for dissidents, settling down in Kobe for a break. He thought they're still spread around fulfilling tasks assigned to them previously right after he took Mitsuhide's virginity… but it appeared they must've overly succeeded to have so much free time they could arrange a sleepover like this.

Well, aside from that, he wanted to check out the cows here. Did the foundation for the world-famous wagyu already exist, or did he have to invest in it and potentially change the world into something he didn't recognize? That was the typical pitfall of incarnated beings: insist on change and destroy everything, or stay stagnant and die by the main villain? 'Tenka Fubu' already considerably shifted everyone's positions, to the point he's quite glad the daimyo nearest to where they were now was still relatively unchanged, both in terms of genders and personality.

While he admired this world's beautiful Princess Generals to the point of being unable to keep his hands to himself… some of the time, it's quite refreshing to see a figure he knew well and unchanged from the history he'd learnt.

Ukita Naoie was still the same scumbag he was in the Proper Human History. Consulting Nobunaga, she also remarked her version of Naoie was basically the same. Fortunately, it also meant his weakness was the same.

Work had already gone underway to sabotage his rule since one year ago, when Hanbei began working with the strategist Don Simon – birth name Kanbē Kuroda. Quickly becoming good friends, the two young girls of contrasting skin tone hatched a typical but baring plan: work Naoie's daughter, and he'd follow them like an obedient dog. The daimyō's situation with his master, the Mōri Clan, was obviously complicated… but immediately simplified with this plan.

Pit him against his former host by using his daughter as a hostage, with a high chance of killing him in battle and weakening the current Princess Generals of the Mōri Clan – the two white-haired twins – then they're going to come in and collect everything in one fell swoop.

However, the latter proved to be more difficult than expected, despite the Proper Human History's recording of the Mōri Clan's relatively quick and undramatic defeat, it had so many pieces required to go right in order for Nobunaga to achieve the total victory she wanted, instead of the drawn-out and bloody version she experienced in the other reality.

Fortunately, one piece was taken off the board almost immediately by Himiko's decisiveness: the Ashikaga Clan's shogun-worthy members. Originally, Yoshiaki, the 'Shogun of Letters', would ride on this powerful southern family's influence and strength to pose as an obstacle to Nobunaga's unification ambition. The mere presence of her alone emboldened the rats hiding in the shadow – the very same ones pushed into it by Nobunaga's expansion – and pushed them towards subterfuge obstruction, instead of the usual battlefield match. Of course, this was mere hypocrisy from Muramasa, since it meant his usual advantage was taken away… if this scenario actually happened.

Himiko's new signing, and several of Hyakki Yakkō's heavy hitters, succeeded in eliminating this vantage point, so there's no need to worry about it. These aforementioned 'rats' would, in time, be hunted down by his 'cats' – darkness against darkness, shadows inside shadows.

Another strong chess piece the Owari contingent had to consider was the strength of the Mōri Clan's navy. The previous daimyo, Motonari, was an incredible man… and the sole Heroic Vessel candidate born in this generation. Alas, he was too weak to overcome Alaya's double-trapped offering, not even managing to become a Counter Guardian on the account of his half-assed attachment to the mortal world. It's not that Muramasa considered him weak – far from it, because he was an incredible person both in abilities and characters – but his [Greed] wasn't powerful enough.

The [Greed] to want it all: utopia, salvation, protection. Many claimed one had to make compromises in order to succeed in either one or two of those dream-like ideals, but Heroic Vessels had to be determined enough to grab and desire everything with both figurative hands. Having so much to earn and keep, including his two beautiful twin sisters, Motonari faltered in his death's door. Even if he took that single step forward, he'd go no further than #01 and end up just like the latter: remnants of smouldering ash. At the very least, Soul of Cinder was originally powerful. Motonari was nothing but an exceptionally gifted normal human being, whose Thaumaturgical talents were even worse than Nobunaga – precisely the reason why Muramasa regretted his failure since the man needed Alaya to be as powerful as he wanted.

Still, his legacy was such one of Nihon's most powerful wakō, Murakami Takeyoshi, was still loyal to the clan despite his claims of semi-independence, practically serving as the twins' godfather in lieu of the deceased male members of the main family. His fleet was of such strength Kuki and Kazumasu were hesitant in facing him head-on… and that's actually where the Owari navy was at its strongest. Investing resources in sabotage and subterfuge would be futile because Murakami already controlled that area, unlike the Spanish galleons a few months ago who had no other choice but to engage in open waters, due to their fleet essentially being modified merchant ships and downscaled war vessels to avoid international incidents.

Regardless of Yoshiaki or Motonari's presence, this was a persistent, strong army which was difficult to corner, much less trap, capture, or obliterate. Yes, if sufficient evidence was found of the Mōri Clan's disloyalty to the empire, then the Hyakki Yakō could be mobilized to raze it to the ground, wakō included, but it had been nothing but a loyal retainer to the crown. Muramasa's mere presence had already shifted the southern populace's perception against Himiko's supposed neutrality, with more and more factions connecting the dots regarding the redhead's and Tatsumi's subjective servitude in Owari.

The final piece was obvious: the King.

…or, in this case, Takakage Kobayakawa. All of Mōri's recent undertakings – mostly consolidating their powers after the sad passing of their two most prominent male members – went through her. Or, rather more precisely, happened because of her. Muramasa heard she's not a particularly headstrong character, often spending her time not plotting and governing by daydreaming and poetry – a far cry from his lover, certainly – but she had wits to match or exceed any Princess General in Nihon right now.

In a way, she's much more traditionally-positioned than Muramasa's previous opponents – some of them had turned into allies, like Kagetora – in that she required heavy protection for her talents to blossom optimally. Only her brother's recent death prevented her from attaining the same status as Ujiyasu, the hikkikomori Princess General, but their talents were absolutely on par. The Hōjō Clan Head could afford displaying her efforts more because of her family's solid foundation, to which she was simply required to use fully and build upon excellently, in contrast to the Mōri who'd had recent internal upheavals.

In contrast, her retainers weren't relatively exceptional. Her twin sister was repeatedly fooled and humiliated by a small-time Princess General by the name of Shikanosuke, who'd recently joined Muramasa after the two coincidentally met… which then required him to delve into his arsenal of [Water] Magecraft – clearly not his strong suit – to hose her down from the literal shit she'd been through after her latest escapade from Mōri captivity.

The esteemed and busty warrior was surprisingly innocent and airheaded, in contrast to the usual determined, gritty type of character he'd associate with someone who's willing to crawl through a latrine pit for their freedom, bringing to mind the modern military movies 'Shirō Emiya' once enjoyed which starred exactly these kinds of hard-nosed actors. Also, comparing her to another curvaceous, powerful female general – Katsuie 'Riku' Shibata – Shikanosuke's naivety shone through, unlike the Owari retainer whose clumsiness was a result of her deliberate hypocrisy typical of someone of noble birth.

Well, nowadays he and Katsuie got along well enough, chiefly fuelled by his cooking. See? He'd proven it to Alaya it's not a ridiculous concept when he declared cuisine could bring about the world's salvation! By the power of friendship, foodgasm, and fanservice!

…ahem. He's gotten distracted. The sensation of his young, lithe wife in his arms, wriggling about and inadvertently grinding her crotch against his, combined with the sheer mass of softness currently pressing against his rear side, made his mind wander in a split second.

Yes, indeed, they all smelled. Whatever the result of their frolic in Unlimited Blade Works was clearly strenuous on their bodies, though he hoped it's nothing but good memories. He'd never seen the girls get together like this in his previous missions either; usually, they entered the Dream Cycle turn-by-turn, and confronted him about what they experienced respectively. Chiyome was the first who organized a 'group session'… 'As expected from the woman I chose.'

"F-Fine! Let's go in together!" She finally squeaked, the overbearing, python-like persona she recently assumed moulted back to the pitiful, shivering snakelet all those years ago. "Hmph!"

To be honest, he didn't really mind their musky and humid bodies. It's a scent he'd grown used to, but somehow, whatever they did in his Reality Marble guilt-tripped Chiyome quite badly she couldn't stand this intimate cuddling.

"You know I'll have you explain what's going on in the ofuro, right?" He chuckled, his arms roaming up and down from her waist to her breasts' and hips' sides. "All four of you will be interrogated. Prepare yourself."

Jovially, Mitsuhide answered, "Ooohhh! So scary!"

The Murakami wakō group was completely unlike its oft-derogatory designation. Its captain and namesake ran his 'pirates' how an admiral would to his officers several decades later in the start of Piracy's Golden Age. Hence, calling it 'one of the most powerful' among Nihon pirate groups was akin to describing a tiger as 'one of the most powerful' among cats – simultaneously current and incorrect.

The Sengoku Period was admired and romanticized so much in the future because of the endless possibility which somehow coincidentally existed in the same time period. What if this person fulfilled all their potential? What if this person didn't meet their untimely end? What if this couple get together? What if this group of people were seen in a better, more modern outlook? What if, what if, what if…

Murakami was one of these exceptional individuals whose name was lost to history, purely because he was on the losing side. Typical.

Maintaining a navy was harder in this time than any other armed forces, because of the technological challenges lying in wait between land and sea. The fact it's hard to find adequate people to fill in his boats was already a challenge enough, because only humanity's minority had a natural disposition to aquatic life. Most of the others trained enough to adapt and compensate in this environment, while the rest remained staunchly anti-[Water]. 'Sea legs' was the popular jargon – while crude and inclusive, it's a rather accurate measurement of one's talent; a valuable resource when men and women died daily and had to be replenished quickly.

Communication was another issue, though recently mitigated by the popularization of symbolic flags, gestures, and domesticated messaging pets. Still, this only applied to within the navy and its immediate surroundings; for instance, it's impossible for his lord to speak with him when he's out on a mission, unlike land-based communication where skilled messengers could traverse plains and mountains to bring messages in under 2 days.

Clearly, anyone who triumphed over these limitations and many more was astounding, much less someone who took it to Murakami's level.

Unfortunately, this man was now left as the sole remaining reason among the Mōri Clan. Brash and loud he was, stereotypical of men of his ilk, he was at least pragmatic and rational. Hard life at sea – and sometimes on land – toughened him beyond what 'urban culture' could manage to its most decorated soldiers. Everything which usually came out of his mouth was the cruellest, basest truth he saw through with all his senses, most of the time leading to altercations and misunderstandings.

If people wanted to label him as such, then he'd readily embrace it and more. Shoving this fact down their throats – at times literally – was a favourite pastime of his… and his lords weren't excluded.

If Takakage wanted to wallow around, dreaming of rainbows and butterflies again in the midst of an extinction event, then he'd gladly cross the ocean and slap that pretty face back to sanity.

…okay, saying that was probably an exaggeration, but Nihon was at such a historical crossroad any little thing could snowball into a catastrophe at any time. Murakami didn't know this, but his thought process regarding the imagery of Nihon's various forces was similar to Muramasa: a chessboard with too many troublesome pieces to sit against. In contrast to the blacksmith, however, he was clearly in the underdog role, with his navy being one of the most powerful pieces of the losing side.

Owari had grown so powerful, with so many innovative resources he'd heard rumours of, that his lord had grown so desperate she's looking beyond using Naoie as a makeshift wall and towards foreign forces, despite historical proof selling one's land to outsiders never ended up well. Given how well the crown reacted to the invading Spanish galleons several months back – the first publicized, authorized imperial backing of a Princess General as far as he knew of this generation – Takakage had basically sealed the Mōri Clan's extermination if she took one wrong step.

Almost like magic, a powerful man appeared in front of them earlier, claiming to be a Nanban agent responsible for all their operations on Nihon soil. Usually, people saying that would be put through a 'thorough' background check at best, or outright executed at worst… but the white-haired girl had been so pushed into her bad habits she overruled tradition and almost immediately accepted his help.

Deals which were too good to be true… were exactly that most of the time. Only luck and divine intervention would prove otherwise.

The only saving grace he could see was the next Nanban people who came appeared to be rather unfriendly to this one, but both parties put aside their differences in order to secure Takakage's cooperation. Murakami's not sure whether this was the same group who was destroyed by Nobunaga's fleet or not, but at the very least, the money, manpower, Magecraft, and technology they brought as promised were decent enough.

It's not his place to go overboard to change Takakage's mind, but he's determined to be the eyes on the back of her head lest those foreigners stabbed her in the back.