Chapter 125
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 125
Chapter Title: Fifty Years in the Human World (2)
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―Neigh!
Il-yeong had returned from Mikawa, and several days had already passed since the first dire news of Terabe Castle's fall reverberated through the land.
In the meantime, the tide of war had grown even more urgent. Imagawa Yoshimoto, with the Matsudaira forces at the vanguard, had fully crossed Owari's border and was swiftly advancing on multiple castles.
―Clop clop!
"Hyaa!"
Judging by the thunder of the galloping hooves, the messenger's pace was far from slow, but he urged his mount even faster, sweat pouring down his face.
The horse, tongue lolling, sprayed saliva into the air as it charged ahead, a trail of dust swirling in its wake.
"It's a messenger! Open the gates!"
"Out of the way! Move it!"
In these chaotic times, no bold soldier dared block a messenger's banner, so the gates swung open swiftly. The rider soon barreled toward Kiyosu's inner citadel.
"Daimyo!"
Spotting Nobunaga emerging from a brief council meeting, he shouted without even dismounting.
"Wasizu and Marune castles are under siege! Reinforcements now!"
And at that moment, Nobunaga's expression naturally hardened.
*
The urgent battlefield report carried by the messenger naturally reached Il-yeong, retainer of the Hirate family as well. Upon hearing it, he headed straight for the inner citadel.
"Young master—no, husband."
"Aigo, husband."
The commoners who spotted him bowed their heads in greeting one after another, but Il-yeong had no mind for such things.
His face was expressionless—no, closer to scowling—as he walked on, silently reciting the names of the castles that had fallen so far in his mind.
'Terabe, Hirose, Koromo, Iho...'
The battles had begun earlier than in the original history, and the castles were falling at a blistering pace. But that was somewhat intentional, so it wasn't a problem.
Just one issue.
By the time his thoughts reached that point, Il-yeong realized he had arrived at the inner citadel. He approached the guarding samurai, who hastily straightened up and tried to say something upon seeing him.
"Ah...!"
But Il-yeong had no time for such trivialities.
"Let me pass. Where's the Daimyo?"
"In the Tenshu tower!"
"Right."
No one could stop him now.
Who in Owari could bar the path of Hirate Masahide's adopted son, Oda Nobunaga's husband, and Mori Yoshinari's de facto lover?
Thus, Il-yeong entered the inner citadel unhindered, followed by Akechi Mitsuhide and Itsuki, and made his way to the Tenshu tower.
'...Whew.'
'Blood winds are blowing.'
Of course, his escorts—including the two—were dying inside.
'War? Scary as hell, sure. But the scariest thing is...'
Itsuki trailed silently behind Il-yeong, who marched on with that familiar expression Itsuki had seen countless times.
As guards who had served Il-yeong for more than a day or two, especially Itsuki, they could read the signs.
A blank-faced Il-yeong meant something big was coming.
'Not an exaggeration.'
How could it be?
The only one who might even dare call it that was probably Akechi Mitsuhide.
After all, Itsuki and the other guards had seen it on that rainy day.
...The Joseon ronin Baek Il-yeong.
Hirate Hikage, adopted son of the Hirate family.
Not his usual sly, foxy grin.
But the face of a blood-starved yaksha.
*
Meanwhile, at that very moment.
Il-yeong gave a wry smile as he passed several retainers who averted their eyes.
―But still... Ahem.
―Let's move somewhere else.
―Good idea.
Some samurai and young officials offered brief bows or salutes, but the old ones—especially those who had lost much influence in the clan—whispered among themselves and either looked away or shifted positions upon spotting him.
He couldn't catch their exact words, but it was obvious enough.
'They're badmouthing Nobunaga.'
Not surprising.
The councils had dragged on for days without any clear strategy, and the war had long since turned against them.
Even those who had groveled flat on the first day were now lifting their heads, spouting nonsense among themselves.
They were probably thinking—or sneering—
'The way to save Owari now is to enthrone Lady Nobuyuki.'
'Even if she luckily swallowed Owari, that incompetent woman's luck has run out.'
Or perhaps,
'Lord Oda Nobuhide left a heavy burden on Owari,' clicking their tongues.
Just because they didn't say it aloud didn't mean he couldn't guess their petty, ugly hearts.
But what truly unsettled Il-yeong wasn't the backbiting of these fear-mongering, defeatist old retainers crying for surrender.
'Maybe.'
It was that tiny inner voice wondering if they might be right.
Of course, he didn't deny Oda Nobunaga.
But he thought,
'I'm human too.'
He knew the future.
Or rather, he knew the history to come.
'Oda Nobunaga defeats Okehazama, this incident topples the Imagawa, then allies with the Matsudaira...'
He had more than a passing interest in Korean history, world history, and Japan's Warring States era, so he had a rough idea of how events would unfold—who to eliminate, who to win over.
But, but...
'Is it really all accurate?'
Il-yeong knew that sometimes, knowing was more frightening than ignorance.
No, he had learned it.
'Nobunaga. Oda Nobunaga.'
When he first fell into this world, his options were limited. The ridiculous setup as a Joseon ronin was one thing, but opening his eyes to see Nobunaga tossing incense at her father's funeral? What a twist.
It felt like the world itself was shoving him toward her as a retainer.
「Oda Nobunaga」
Knowing all she would achieve in original history, Il-yeong was drawn in like a moth to flame and pledged himself to her service. He had changed much.
He saved Hirate Masahide, who in the original timeline admonished her to regain her senses and committed seppuku to prove his loyalty.
And that was just the start?
He became Masahide's adopted son and personally slew Hideyoshi—the man who would later devour the islands after her death at Honnoji—turning yaksha himself.
He crushed Nobuyuki's faction.
Exploited Mino's chaos to seize some influence and added insurance in Mikawa for the coming battles.
'Everything I've done is based on the future—written history.'
He could act because he knew the future.
Yet, since that knowledge stemmed from written history and his memories of the 'original world,' he had to battle a growing fear as days passed.
The future could change.
No, perhaps it already had.
「Okehazama Battle」
「」
Even later historians wondered—
'How the hell did she win?' or 'Pure goddamn luck.'
That's why even he couldn't help but tense up about this battle, no matter how hard he tried to stay calm.
"...Uh. Aren't you going in?"
"Hm?"
That was when.
Il-yeong turned briefly at Itsuki's voice behind him, then looked ahead. Only then did he realize his deep reverie had carried him right to the Tenshu tower unnoticed. He nodded.
"Wait here."
...Too deep in thought.
Damn it.
Il-yeong smoothed his furrowed brow with a grimace and ascended the Tenshu stairs.
"She's on the top floor."
"Said she'd be waiting."
Servants he passed informed him, and he finally reached the uppermost level, the end of the stairs.
"Open it."
"Yes, husband."
The top floor was always kept empty, so the samurai merely opened the first door. Il-yeong passed them and walked the corridor to the room where Nobunaga usually stayed. Clearing his throat with a low hum, he spoke.
"I'm entering, Daimyo."
"Come in."
Not expecting refusal, Il-yeong grasped the handle and slid the door aside.
Then, as he raised his bowed head to speak—
―Swish!
The fan in Nobunaga's pale hand unfurled with a whisper of air. She glanced sidelong at the dazed Il-yeong, then her red lips parted.
"...Fifty years in the human world."
It was the same verse he had heard once before.