Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Kiyosu Castle (1)
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Kwaaang—!
"You fucking idiots!"
The elderly man's shout, brimming with fury, echoed through the dilapidated building. Yet the retainers who heard it only averted their gazes from Oda Nobutomo with troubled expressions, unable to offer any response.
The clan lord himself—nominal head of the family—was shaking with rage, his thick cheeks quivering. But these so-called retainers couldn't even muster a single idea, let alone a proper answer.
Oda Nobutomo wanted nothing more than to cut down every last one of these useless parasites on the spot, but he knew better than anyone that he couldn't. All he could do was bite his lip until the veins in his eyes burst.
'Self-serving bastards, only looking out for their own hides...!'
He never should have taken in the Shiba clan to begin with.
He'd accepted them thinking they might have some political value as the former rulers of Owari Province. Who could have foreseen they'd become such a liability?
'I got rid of Shiba Yoshimitsu, at least... damn it all. To fail at killing just one girl with all those men...!'
Where had it all gone wrong?
Twenty years ago, when he'd lost power after being caught off guard by Nobuhide, whom he'd dismissed as a mere collateral branch nobody?
Or was it his failure to strike Nobunaga more cautiously?
Either way, it was his fault. Shaking his head, Nobutomo turned back to his retainers and asked,
"So... how many troops are coming down from Nagoya?"
He had no intention of avoiding all-out war now. Holding out here at Kiyosu Castle might even draw in Nobuyuki's forces, who were watching from the sidelines.
That realization made the situation seem less dire.
His retainers seemed to think the same, their faces brightening a bit as one replied,
"They won't fully abandon Nagoya, their main base, after that night raid and with their foundations still shaky. The most she can muster is around two thousand at best. If we just hold out, won't Nobuyuki rise up?"
"Right. If Nobuyuki just rises up..."
Nobuyuki wasn't foolish enough to miss this chance. It was utterly humiliating that he, the rightful lord of the Oda main branch, had to pin his hopes on a mere collateral daughter, but he had no other choice.
'At least that girl understands reason...!'
Unlike the beastly Nobunaga, Nobuyuki knew etiquette and politics. Nobunaga, no matter how he thought about it, did not.
Grind—.
'That animal who sprinkled incense on her own father's corpse. If Owari falls into her hands, it'll go to the Imagawa or the Saito—one or the other...!'
If Nobuyuki had been the heir, he never would have resorted to something as extreme as assassination. He'd have built his position through politics instead.
But the moment the clan fell to Nobunaga—the so-called "Fool of Owari"—all this had been inevitable.
Hardening his resolve, he rose from his seat and shouted,
"Assemble the samurai immediately! Gather every able-bodied man who can fight inside the castle! They'll be here soon."
At his words, the retainers nodded as if they'd expected it and stood from their seats.
Now, all that remained was to hold the castle.
"Holding the castle after all, huh..."
Baek Il-yeong arrived at the hill overlooking Kiyosu Castle and muttered as if he'd expected it, eyeing the firmly shut gates and moat.
They weren't idiots either. They had to know a head-on assault offered little chance of victory.
At that moment, Mori Yoshinari approached Il-yeong, who had been scouting the castle. She wore heavy armor instead of her usual light plating, her long gray ponytail swaying.
"Um... Il-yeong, was it? What's the plan now? We're here like you said."
"Well... ahem."
Il-yeong turned to look at her, about to explain his strategy, but he couldn't help a sudden cough at the sight of her ample chest bouncing dramatically with even the slightest movement.
But only for a moment.
He quickly shifted his gaze to Kiyosu Castle and its surroundings before speaking.
"First, we need to lure the enemy out from behind the walls."
"How?"
Mori Yoshinari tilted her head with an expression full of doubt at Il-yeong's matter-of-fact words. It was awfully cute.
"You'll see. I'll show you from here on out."
With that, Il-yeong simply flashed a light smile in response.
.
.
.
As a line of troops appeared before the tense Kiyosu Castle, a samurai shouted,
"Hold your positions, everyone! If we endure just a few days, reinforcements will come from Suemori Castle!"
"......"
Suemori Castle was essentially Oda Nobuyuki's stronghold, so the samurai meant it to boost morale. But the soldiers manning the walls with bows, stones, and spears wore expressions of utter despair.
And for good reason. Most of them were mere peasants with little loyalty to Nobutomo.
What did they care about Suemori or Nagoya? The peasants just wanted this damned family feud to end quickly.
"Mindless fools who live day to day..."
Nobutomo wasn't blind to the mood. He ground his teeth so fiercely it seemed his weakened old fangs might crack.
Having vividly remembered the days when the Oda main branch ruled Owari, the insolent posture of these peasant rabble was infuriating beyond measure.
At that moment, a retainer rushed to him at the window of the command hall, where he stood donning his armor, bowed his head, and reported,
"My lord. The enemy has shown themselves. However..."
"However?"
"Something's off."
What could be off?
Nobutomo's brow furrowed. He turned his gaze back to the battlefield, squinting.
"What is..."
Sure enough, he began to notice the 'oddity' his retainer had mentioned.
"Mostly ashigaru... and the samurai are mid-tier ones who can't even ride horses...?"
The numbers seemed just over a thousand, but the quality was shockingly poor.
Mostly ashigaru and rabble, with the leading samurai—save for the thirty or so at the vanguard—numbering only about a hundred mid-tier ones on foot.
Ashigaru were basic low-tier troops, mass-producible compared to samurai. Numbers could change that, but a mere thousand?
'Coming to siege the castle with just a thousand? In that composition?'
Nobutomo stared at the field, his face a mix of rage, bewilderment, and suspicion, chewing his lip.
He'd imagined overwhelming numbers, but never something this pitiful.
'Are they looking down on me? Or why...?'
He considered it might be a trap, but shook his head and muttered,
"The commander is Mori Yoshinari. That fool of a woman setting a trap? Ridiculous."
His certainty came from the Mori family crest on the vanguard banner.
Mori Yoshinari was brave, purely naive at best, downright stupid at worst. Dismissing the trap idea, he settled on the most logical explanation for the situation.
'...Did Nobunaga trust Yoshinari enough to send them like this?'
It wasn't impossible.
Despite her beastly reputation, Nobunaga was still a green novice in warfare.
Factor in fear from the recent assassination attempt, and it made sense she'd hold back troops to guard Nagoya.
"However..."
Nobutomo muttered, sensing some subtle wrongness, his brow furrowed. His long-time retainer, guessing his thoughts, offered cautious advice.
"What about a night raid? They're worn out from marching, so tonight's the perfect time."
"Indeed... you're right."
Nodding as if it were brilliant, Nobutomo watched them set up camp at the mountain's base, just beyond arrow range.
'Yes. Born a pup to a tiger father, after all.'
Rationalizing it that way, he left the command hall to prepare the night raid under the darkening sky.
.
.
.
Time passed, and night fell.
A force slipped out of Kiyosu Castle under cover of darkness.
How much more time passed?
Deep into the night, when even the crickets seemed asleep.
Nobutomo, stealthily approaching Mori Yoshinari's camp, judged he could hide no longer. He roughly drew his sword and bellowed to the samurai and ashigaru behind him,
"Entire army—advance!"
"Waaaaah!"
Was it the enemy's small numbers and ragged appearance boosting morale? Or had the clan lord's determination, leading from the front despite his aged body, inspired them?
The troops, far from perfect but with elevated spirits, roared and charged to swallow the silent camp in one go.
But only for a moment.
"What is..."
The lead samurai, nearing where the camp should be, spotted bizarre structures—like a fence riddled with regular holes—and muttered under his breath.
And at that instant.
Il-yeong, face set, suppressed the excitement and tension in his voice, murmuring calmly,
"First rank. Fire."
And simultaneously.
Taaaang—!
Tatatatang—!