Chapter 136
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 136
Chapter Title: Okehazama (7)
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Samurai charged at Il-yeong, yet Imagawa Yoshimoto himself aimed straight for Oda Nobunaga—this wasn't all that strange.
No, it was perhaps inevitable.
With the central figures of each force gathered in one place, even a fool who hadn't studied properly would know that one of them had to die for the battle to end.
And that meant Nobunaga, along with the samurai around her, had no reason to just stand there and take it with eyes wide open.
"How dare you!"
In the end, Imagawa Yoshimoto's thrust with his great sword didn't even graze Nobunaga before it was blocked by Mori Yoshinari's blue spear.
—Clang!
The sharp blade and spear tip clashed, sending shockwaves rippling through the sword and shaft.
Her distinctive gray eyes and hair shook, and the blue-tinted armor swayed in rhythm with the spear shaft she had thrust out.
"Nngh."
The basic difference in build made it grueling, but that didn't mean Mori Yoshinari was being pushed back—no, not at all.
If anything, it was an even match.
"Ho."
Imagawa Yoshimoto inwardly admired her stance and twitched his lips.
But that admiration lasted only a fleeting moment.
"Insolent wench!"
With a shout, he loosened his grip on the sword handle she was holding at bay, then surged forward with his massive frame, slamming his shoulder into her chest.
"Guhk!"
Strength could be built, but the raw power from sheer body mass was unavoidable, so Mori Yoshinari felt her grip on the spear shaft slacken in that instant.
And Imagawa Yoshimoto wasn't dull enough to miss that opening.
—Thwack!
He retightened his hold on the loosened sword handle and swung at her as she staggered back.
'I'll cleave her!'
The blade was aimed at none other than Mori Yoshinari's neck. Imagawa Yoshimoto had no doubt he'd behead her in one stroke.
But then.
"You bastard!"
At the shout and the presence that followed, Imagawa Yoshimoto instinctively guarded his side with his shoulder armor. Right after, a powerful sword strike hammered down on it, forcing him to step back a pace.
"You alright?"
"...Cough. I'm fine."
Naturally, it was Oda Nobunaga who had come to Mori Yoshinari's rescue.
Her guards were tied up dealing with Imagawa Yoshimoto's elites, who had swarmed in as if waiting for the chance.
'This is getting annoying.'
Nobunaga brushed back her signature black hair, her golden eyes flashing.
Of course, if she weren't here, the danger would be less, but there was no helping it.
'Owari is still unstable right now.'
It hadn't even been half a year since she'd sorted out the clan.
Even if she'd purged the overt dissenters in that time, they were just the obvious ones—plenty more lurked who could turn at any moment.
Sure, they'd probably cling to the enemies rather than drive her out.
'Too many to cut down now, and too risky.'
Those types weren't mounting any real resistance in this invasion; they were just hunkering down in the rear with minimal troops.
A prolonged war?
If the foundation she'd built so far crumbled, Owari could collapse in an instant from traitors striking her in the back.
The plan she and Il-yeong had drawn up was simple.
'Even if we can't take Imagawa Yoshimoto's head in this ambush, inflict maximum damage and end the war quickly.'
A do-or-die defense, in other words.
That was why she'd prepared for a showdown with Imagawa Yoshimoto herself. The unexpected part was...
"It seems the title of Tokai's greatest warrior isn't empty after all."
As Il-yeong said, stepping up beside them after cutting down the charging warriors with a wry smile—the fact that Imagawa Yoshimoto's martial prowess exceeded expectations.
Of course, that wasn't reason enough to back down.
So Nobunaga gripped her sword tighter and glared at Imagawa Yoshimoto, who strutted about arrogantly without a care.
He had to die here.
'Should've practiced my swordsmanship more.'
She'd neglected it lately, too focused on firearms, but that didn't mean she wouldn't fight.
As she stepped forward with that resolve—
—Step.
"Come to think of it, isn't this absurd?"
"Huh?"
Oda Nobunaga reflexively responded to Il-yeong's voice as he stepped ahead of her by a pace.
What exactly was absurd?
As if answering her thought, Il-yeong replied.
"The Three Bonds state that the ruler is the bond for the vassal. It means lord and retainer must uphold their proper duties—so how could I not step forward?"
"Hah."
Il-yeong wiped the blood from his masked mouth and positioned himself in front of them. Naturally, Imagawa Yoshimoto, hearing this, could only scoff.
It was only natural.
"Ha, hahahahaha!"
They knew well the Confucian principles commonly called the Three Bonds and Five Relationships.
Confucianism had already taken root in this land.
So Il-yeong invoking one of the Three Bonds—the ruler as the vassal's bond—carried a clear implication.
"You think you're enough to face me? Kuhahaha!"
How could he not laugh?
Il-yeong's words were tantamount to saying that he, the great daimyo ruling Suruga, Totoumi, and Mikawa, was of lower stature than Oda Nobunaga, mere lord of Owari.
"Yes, yes! Now that's the demon they've been talking about!"
Imagawa Yoshimoto burst into hearty laughter, but Il-yeong, meeting his gaze, smiled bitterly beneath his mask.
'He's properly pissed now.'
How could he not be?
Even if Il-yeong had spoken in his usual refined tone, it had struck at Imagawa Yoshimoto's pride.
"Fine, as you wish—I'll cut you down first."
Imagawa Yoshimoto didn't dodge the provocation, staring at Il-yeong with eyes mixed of rage and intrigue.
The two men's gazes crossed.
And that signaled one of their lives would soon end.
"Hup!"
"Hyah!"
They charged forward almost simultaneously.
—Splatter!
Their feet pounded the blood-soaked ground stained by the blood of brothel girls and boys, sending crimson sprays flying everywhere. Before anyone could intervene, their swords clashed.
—Claaang!
A piercing ring scraped past their ears.
Blades thrust with intent to kill in one stroke carried full power, so the clash transmitted raw shock straight to their wrists and forearms.
"Not bad strength!"
Imagawa Yoshimoto, as if delighted, pushed harder with his great sword. The slipping blade caught on Il-yeong's shoulder, barely halted.
That left Il-yeong with only one option.
—Graaate!
The honed blades ground against each other with grating shrieks under their straining force. As the balance tipped, Il-yeong twisted away from Imagawa Yoshimoto's descending blade.
At the same time, he slashed diagonally upward from the low angle, aiming for Imagawa's chest.
"Hoh!"
Was it an unexpected move?
Or just a battle cry from blood boiling in combat?
'Fuck if I know.'
Il-yeong bit his lip and poured more power into his swing.
Of course, the armor blocked it, dealing no real damage.
'Aim for the gaps!'
Samurai armor was a tangle of plates with plenty of weak spots—like the knots.
As Il-yeong targeted those vulnerabilities—
"Indeed, skill worthy of the demon name... but!"
Imagawa Yoshimoto grinned, baring his sword-reddened teeth. Sensing danger instinctively, Il-yeong rolled across the ground without hesitation.
"Dodged?"
The choice proved right.
Yoshimoto eyed Il-yeong with even greater interest, and in that moment, Il-yeong spotted the sword thrusting from behind and sliced at the man's knee.
"Kugh!"
Unlike the armored torso, the knee was vulnerable, so he groaned and grimaced. Seizing the split-second opening, Il-yeong rose and drove his blade precisely into the man's throat.
—Stab!
The sharp edge pierced the windpipe in one thrust.
Blood trickled along the veins, and Il-yeong glanced at Nobunaga and Yoshinari caught in the melee, frowning.
'Situation's not good.'
Some freak accident?
Or had history diverged?
As Il-yeong furrowed his brow in thought, Imagawa Yoshimoto—impressed by how he'd slain the samurai attacking from behind, burning with odd battle lust—spoke.
"You're decently useful. But next time you plot something, use a riper bitch."
"...What?"
Il-yeong could only blink in disbelief.
What the hell was that nonsense?