Chapter 110
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: Vortex of Altered History
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1556 (Koji 2nd Year).
History had changed.
No, that simple phrase couldn't capture the current state of affairs.
Hashiba Hideyoshi. Or perhaps Toyotomi Hideyoshi.
The man who would one day unleash a whirlwind through history, shaking the future of East Asia, had fallen in an unnamed ruined shrine at the border of Mino and Owari, using it as his grave.
Saito Yoshitatsu, who had taken Saito Dosan's life, was busy inspecting his long-confused domain while reaching out to the shogun in Kyoto, Ashikaga Yoshiteru, and solidifying his position as a Sengoku daimyo.
In 1554, amid the ongoing chaos in Owari, Imagawa Yoshimoto married his heir, Imagawa Ujizane, to the daughter of Hojo Ujiyasu. He also acted as matchmaker between the Takeda and Hojo clans, forging a marriage alliance that completed the tripartite alliance of Hojo, Takeda, and Imagawa.
However, ominous signs were slowly encroaching on him, such as the death in 1555 of his capable advisor, Daigen Setsuai, who had succumbed to illness after a long struggle.
In the midst of this turbulent era, Owari had succeeded, however unsteadily, in quelling its internal strife. It was also successfully repelling the sporadic attacks from Mino Province intent on reclaiming lost territory.
At last, the harsh winter had passed.
The frozen earth had thawed, preparing to sprout new buds once more. Owari was no different.
The era stained in blood had ended.
Oda Nobuyuki had promised submission to Oda Nobunaga. Dota Gozen, secluded in Suemori Castle, lent her nominal support. Thus, the internal conflict ended with Nobunaga's victory.
Of course, it was only natural that water would flow once the ice melted.
—Nobuyukiii!
—Gaaah!
—P-Please, spare me! Mercy!
Those who had sided with Nobuyuki, especially her core retainers, were either executed or chose seppuku. With this short but intense purge complete, Nobunaga gathered all her retainers and made her declaration.
"I alone am the rightful heir of the Oda Clan."
The veteran retainers trembled at her words.
They sensed it instinctively.
The old era under Nobuhide was gone. A new history would now be written under a new daimyo.
And the central figure was undoubtedly...
'Hirate Hikage.'
Not just the veterans—all eyes in the room turned to one man.
A tall figure with handsome features, yet harboring both a fox and a yaksha within—a terrifying man.
'Baek Il-yeong.'
It would be him.
How could Il-yeong himself not know this?
Thus, amid the gazes converging on him, he thought with a faint smile.
...It seemed he couldn't afford to be away for too long.
*
"Owari's succession is complete."
This news would soon spread to every neighboring province.
They would send proclamations in Oda Nobunaga's name, of course. But even now, spies hidden in Owari were frantically relaying the information.
Of course, the end of the succession didn't mean all chaos was quelled.
It had been a brief but fierce civil war, so Owari needed time to recover. The retainers' moods were uneasy as well.
Thus, for Il-yeong to leave at this juncture was no easy task. Who was he, after all? He was no longer just a ronin from Joseon.
The adopted heir and eldest son of the Hirate family.
A samurai and war hero known by the moniker Yaksha.
The husband of Oda Nobunaga and the lover of Mori Yoshinari.
In short, his standing in Owari was far greater than one might imagine.
Il-yeong was well aware of this.
But abandoning everything wasn't an option. The method he chose was simple yet bold, with considerable historical precedent.
'Kagemusha.'
Kagemusha—commonly known as a shadow warrior.
'A method steeped in history.'
At first glance, it evoked tales like the prince and the beggar.
Though in those stories, the prince was the fool, so it was slightly different.
The basic concept was straightforward.
In this age of war, one would dress a subordinate in identical armor to deceive enemies or stand in as a proxy when injured.
For Il-yeong, it was simply to conceal his absence.
But here arose a problem.
A true kagemusha—a shadow warrior—had to fool nearly everyone, save minimal guards and select high-ranking allies.
For that, one needed someone who knew him well yet was utterly trustworthy.
Who could that be?
Only one person came to mind.
"Will Itsuki pull it off well?"
—Swish.
Akechi Mitsuhide, wearing a black jinbaori pulled low—not her usual fine guard attire, but ragged like a lowly ronin—asked in a low voice audible only to Il-yeong, who walked ahead.
Il-yeong smirked, his expression saying why bother asking, and replied.
"What, like it's that hard?"
He had already informed his usual guards, Oda Nobunaga, Hirate Masahide, and others. Using the excuse of wounds reopening from the battlefield, he had secluded himself and swapped places under cover of night. Spies in Owari wouldn't notice.
'As long as there's no night raid.'
He hadn't ignored that possibility and had countermeasures, but the odds were slim.
Anyone with sense would know how tightly guarded Il-yeong was—even a fool could see it.
"Don't worry. And drop the formal speech, remember?"
"R-Right... Uh. Yeah."
At Il-yeong's words, Akechi Mitsuhide nearly slipped into formal speech out of habit before catching herself.
But under his gentle yet firm gaze, she pulled her jinbaori lower and blushed.
"Uh, yeah."
Akechi Mitsuhide recalled their first meeting, when she'd trembled with inexplicable hostility, and struggled to speak casually.
Il-yeong adjusted the bundle on his shoulder and whispered low enough that nearby merchants wouldn't hear.
"It might be fine now, but once we enter Mikawa territory, it'll draw suspicion."
"Th-That's..."
Only then did she glance at the merchants walking ahead.
Right now, they weren't Hirate Hikage, adopted heir of the Hirate family and the Yaksha, nor Akechi Mitsuhide, heir of the Akechi family and his bodyguard.
They were merely low-rank ronin, hired cheaply by the Ikoma merchant group to escort their caravan in exchange for discounted pay.
To that end, they'd enlisted Ikoma Kitsuno's help to arrange a small-scale group with mediocre goods.
"No matter how ragged our clothes, those raised in luxury differ naturally from the hardscrabble sort. And if you're blatantly formal on top of that? Hard to avoid suspicion, right?"
"Ah, uh-huh..."
She wanted to argue but couldn't.
Akechi Mitsuhide chewed her lip, sighed in resignation, and finally spoke.
"Got it."
Her silver-pink eyes wavered.
She furtively checked if Il-yeong was angry.
...And sure enough.
Swish—.
Seeing his hand rise, she squeezed her eyes shut. It was a trap after all. A test of her loyalty.
How could she fall for it?
Biting her lip, she trembled in anticipation of his violence.
That ferocious glare still haunted her.
'He'll hit me. Maybe humiliate me in front of these merchants...!'
The Il-yeong she knew wouldn't do that, but in her spiraling delusions, he oscillated between demon and scum.
Yet then.
—Tap.
His lightly raised hand touched her back, the sensation brushing through her ragged clothes to her soft skin.
"Eek?"
Exhaling a sharp breath almost instinctively, she turned her gaze.
And what she saw was none other than...
"Good job."
Il-yeong, smiling as if she had truly done well—not striking or pressuring her.
"Ah..."
Akechi Mitsuhide went blank for a split second, then realized the absurdity of her imagination and looked away.
'Am I losing it?!'
Unaware, she licked her lips at an inexplicable pang of regret.
But there was one thing they didn't know.
"Heh, young blood runs hot. Quite the sight, those two."
"Aye. Let's bed down a bit farther tonight."
"Ho ho. Fine idea."
The merchants ahead were grinning fondly, speculating on their relationship.
And that night.
The merchants truly bedded down some distance away, claiming to leave the night watch to them.
"......"
"What's up?"
"......Nothing."
Of course, nothing they hoped for happened.