Chapter 124
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 124
Chapter Title: Fifty Years in the Human World (1)
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How many days had passed since the meeting began?
In Kiyosu, the air was razor-sharp with the war looming ahead, but that wasn't the case across all of Owari Province.
No, it was more accurate to say the tense spots were actually the minority.
"Ting, what does that brat girl think her father's retainers are? As if war's some kind of game from the start!"
In a hall far shabbier than those in Kiyosu or Nagoya, an old retainer—white-haired, wrinkle-faced, looking one step from the coffin—grumbled away.
"Don't let it get to you~."
"Ahem."
Beside him stood a courtesan freshly dispatched from Kiyosu's famed pleasure district, pouring sake. With her signature coquettish charm, she deftly deflected the old man's gripes.
"Hoo."
Her hands moved with elegant precision true to the art of sake service, all while stealing glances at the old man.
"Even if war breaks out, you could just surrender and call it done, right?"
She said it without a hint of cheapness or vulgarity, subtly voicing exactly what he wanted to hear. A true vixen.
"Hey!"
But as a man—and a clan retainer—he couldn't just nod along. The old retainer barked a hollow rebuke at her as she poured.
"Even a brainless woman wouldn't spout talk of surrender!"
"Come on, let's be real here, Elder."
"E-eh?"
The courtesan didn't flinch a bit.
No, she pierced right through to the motives buried deep in his heart after that shout, speaking as if it were all a joke.
"Frankly speaking, what has the Oda Clan done for you lately, Elder? I heard plenty growing up about how good life was under Oda Nobuhide's rule... but now? Well..."
—Click.
Was it the shock of such words from a mere courtesan? Or the sly smile she flashed while speaking, igniting fire below his belt?
"A-ahem."
He had no retort, just empty coughs. Meanwhile, she shrugged, eyed the brim-full cup—hardly sake-art proper—and said,
"Go on, drink."
"R-right."
...The latter, clearly.
A man till the grave, it seemed. Captivated by the courtesan's allure—barely younger than his own daughter—he gulped down cup after cup in a frenzy.
How much had they drunk?
"Kuh, yeah. Heh heh...!"
"Oh my, really?"
The pair bantered with drink-flushed faces, trading cups like no grim talk had passed between them. Just then, as the old retainer trailed a gentle hand down her bare shoulder, shifting the mood to something steamier—
—Tadadadak!
Urgent footsteps pounded from the corridor's end—he'd left only token guards for appearances' sake—and both froze, eyes snapping to the door.
Naturally, the old retainer's face twisted in rage.
He'd been on the cusp of etching his name in history—who dared interrupt!
"Who the hell...!"
He reared back to bellow—
—Boom!
"B-big trouble, my lord!"
Too distracted by the samurai's ashen face to chide him for shoving the door open unbidden.
And as expected.
Deviations from the norm always had their reasons.
"O-outside the castle... Matsudaira clan banners... an army...!"
"W-what?!"
—Clang!
The samurai's words made him doubt his ears. He dropped his cup, lurched up, flung open the shutters—and gaped in blank despair.
"Ah... aaaah...."
—Waaaaaah!
—Up the walls!
—Hold them! Hold the line!
—Kaaaaah!
From the hall's vantage, the battle looked hopeless for them. No surprise there.
"F-fire arrows?!"
Fire arrows blotted the sky, igniting the castle's "sturdy" spots. His ashigaru—facing fire attack for the first time—ditched weapons and bolted, will to fight shattered.
No, the runners were the smart ones.
—Douse the flames! No—block the bastards fir—gurhk!
A few samurai rallied ashigaru to hold, but mysterious strikes soon spilled their blood and dropped them.
'Ambush... ambush!'
Even fools could see it now.
His fief—his castle—teetered on collapse not ten minutes into the night raid. Despair incarnate.
How could samurai miss it?
So the one before him yelled,
"W-what now, my lord?!"
"......Ah... aaaah."
No answer from the old retainer.
Even processing the chaos was monumental for him.
But some lordly instinct lingered. He quelled the turmoil—barely—and told the samurai,
"G-gather the household, bust out of the castle. Then... then..."
And then what?
His dry throat bobbed as bewilderment mounted, thoughts churning.
......Booze haze? Long gone.
More like his mind had cracked so hard, he barely registered his drunken frame quaking in terror.
'Oda Clan... that's death!'
Flee to Kiyosu for "refuge" as an Oda man? Suicidal on reflection.
Oda Nobunaga. Ordinary? Hardly.
He mouthed off about her bratty insolence, but deep down? Terror. Her ruthless temper—and the warriors' blades to back it.
'Word gets out I lost the castle without a fight? She'll sic that Korean butcher on my neck! No... won't stop there!'
Those cursed bastards' spite? Cousins as appetizers.
Thus, shuddering, lip-biting, he nodded at last.
"Imagawa."
"Yes?"
"Refuge with Imagawa. Hurl peasants and ashigaru at the walls for time. Loot every jewel, then surrender to Imagawa Clan."
Matsudaira forces loomed, sure.
But his political savvy let him cling to this castle despite Oda infighting.
'That Matsudaira chit? Imagawa's toy. Better the main house!'
Betraying anyway—where'd his wretched husk fetch top coin? Loyalty? Laughable drivel to him.
Math: swift.
Action: swifter.
"Move!"
"Y-yes!"
The shout spurred the samurai into frantic motion—like a real plan at last. Then the old retainer eyed the stunned, silent courtesan.
To hunt Imagawa Yoshimoto? Days short, months long.
Might as well snag a servant-girl for errands... and relief.
"You too—let's clear out first..."
That in mind, he turned—
—Shunk!
"Guhk—."
No. Tried to.
Were it not for the dagger lancing his throat dead-center—and her soft hand clamping mouth and nose.
"—Grrgh."
Blood gurgled into his windpipe amid dying groans. His eyes screamed Why? But she waited serene till breath failed, then murmured,
"New wine goes in fresh skins, doesn't it, Elder?"
Flat. Emotionless. Pure ninja.
—Thump.
She dumped the corpse carelessly, shed the courtesan facade, and unpacked hidden blades from thigh-straps and smallclothes.
Then bolted, inwardly reciting orders:
'Assassinate lord. Monitor Matsudaira and Imagawa advance routes.'
—L-lord's dead!
—We surrender!
She'd just slipped the castle when samurai spotted the body and cried quarter.
Into the woods, she glanced back despite herself. Brows knit.
'Why, though?'
She knew this hurt Oda short-term. Why order it from above?
Doubt: fleeting.
'Doesn't matter.'
Ronin garb prepped—she swapped quick, quelled the nagging thought with a head-tilt.
'Ninjas just obey their lord.'
That was duty.
Chanting it, she melted into the trees.
And that day.
Terabe Castle in western Mikawa returned to Mikawa's fold.