Chapter 24
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: What Do You Think?
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‘He’s looking for me...’
Baek Il-yeong fell deep into thought as he followed the servant toward Hirate Masahide’s quarters. What could be the reason for summoning him right after the council meeting?
It couldn’t be a simple greeting or errand. They weren’t close enough for that, and there’d be no need to send a servant. Yet he’d called for him anyway...
‘It must be about the Imagawa or Saito clans.’
There was no other reason to summon him immediately after the retainers’ council ended. With that guess in mind, Il-yeong stopped in front of Masahide’s quarters.
“The young master has arrived.”
The samurai on guard bowed his head and announced Il-yeong’s arrival. Soon, Masahide’s deep, resonant voice echoed from within.
“Come in.”
Kiiik—.
“Yes, sir.”
As the attendants opened the door, Il-yeong stepped inside and spotted Masahide in simple gray robes, personally pouring tea. Il-yeong bowed politely and took a seat before him, asking,
“What kind of tea is this?”
“Green tea. It has quite a fine aroma.”
Clink. Masahide handed over the cup he’d filled, and Il-yeong took it lightly, savoring the scent.
“As you say, the aroma is excellent.”
Did brewing tea for all those years lead to some kind of mastery? Il-yeong chuckled inwardly at the thought, then took a sip of the green tea—and couldn’t help but be surprised.
“Mm.”
A subtle bitterness contrasted with its gentle warmth, followed by a smooth wave of flavor. Even for Il-yeong, who rarely drank tea, it was a delightful experience.
‘...Should I learn it?’
He had no real hobbies anyway, so seriously taking up the tea ceremony didn’t sound like a bad idea. But that was for later. Il-yeong set his cup down with a clink and met Masahide’s eyes.
“So, why did you call me here? It can’t be that you wanted to share tea and have a cozy chat with your adopted son.”
“Mutual discomfort, I suppose.”
Masahide chuckled softly, sipped his steaming green tea, and replied matter-of-factly.
“The Matsudaira have made a move.”
“Matsudaira... You mean their lord, Motoyasu?”
“You know well. Or rather, it’d be strange if you didn’t.”
Considering how Il-yeong had deduced the complicated situation with the Saito clan, it would’ve been odder if he didn’t know about the rift between the Matsudaira and Oda clans.
Of course, Il-yeong had only mentioned the Saitos in reference to matchlock imports—not Nohime—but Masahide had no way of knowing that.
‘Matsudaira Motoyasu. The future Tokugawa Ieyasu.’
There was a saying: Nobunaga tilled the field, Hideyoshi planted the seeds, and Ieyasu reaped the harvest. In the end, it was the Tokugawa clan—not Oda or Toyotomi—that unified the land.
‘Right now, they’re little more than a vassal to the Imagawa...’
Even if the person had changed genders, their fate likely hadn’t. Il-yeong couldn’t help but ask,
“It’s not a big issue, is it? With winter approaching, the Matsudaira wouldn’t be mad enough to clash for real. Unless the Imagawa join them...”
Il-yeong’s words rang true. Winter wars only bled both sides dry. Besides, Nobunaga and Motoyasu had been childhood friends. It shouldn’t be cause for such concern from Hirate Masahide.
“True. If it were ordinary circumstances.”
Clink. Il-yeong’s eyes widened at Masahide’s response, and he pressed,
“...Is there a problem or... Ah?”
He soon realized the Oda clan’s current predicament and let out a belated sigh. Masahide nodded and continued.
“We’re effectively split in two. And that’s a prime opportunity for the Imagawa.”
“You mean...”
“Word from our spies in the Imagawa ranks says their forces are moving toward the border. They likely plan to join the Matsudaira and strike us.”
Whether Il-yeong hadn’t looked into it or records were scarce, he knew little about the Battle of Muraki-toride around this time.
‘I just skimmed it as a victory. Didn’t expect this situation...’
Il-yeong swallowed a wry smile and looked to Masahide, who nodded gravely.
“To fend off this battle, the lord and Lady Nobuyuki must unite. Otherwise...”
Masahide met Il-yeong’s now-serious gaze and spoke plainly, his words carrying heavy weight.
“The Oda clan will fall.”
That was when it happened.
“My lord.”
A samurai’s shadow appeared outside the room. He bowed and reported,
“Lady Nobuyuki and Lord Shibata have entered the castle.”
And so, naturally,
Il-yeong and Hirate Masahide exchanged glances and rose from their seats.
Thud. Thud.
A procession of warriors followed. But the one they trailed wasn’t a samurai in crude armor—it was a lovely young lady with long black hair, dressed almost like an official. Nobuyuki.
“It’s truly tragic. The clan torn apart by Father’s mistake.”
“Well said, my lady.”
Following her was a warrior with long golden hair down to her waist, wearing a fearsome red oni mask. Her exterior screamed menace, but the sleek curves even her armor couldn’t hide marked her as a woman warrior. Her thighs pressing against the saddle were especially prominent.
“...That’s Oni Shibata...?”
“Heard she actually slew a real oni.”
“They say she slaughters enemies mercilessly, then sneaks off to devour human flesh at night...!”
Yet no one on the street lusted after her. Or rather, no one dared.
“Heh. Shibata, everyone’s trembling at the sight of you?”
“...I don’t mind.”
Shibata Katsuie paused at Nobuyuki’s words, but the mask hid her expression. Nobuyuki eyed her with amusement, then flashed her signature sly grin and murmured,
“Boring, but that’s part of your charm, Shibata.”
“...My apologies.”
Some called Nobuyuki serpentine, but Shibata Katsuie paid no heed.
‘I follow only for the Oda clan.’
In her eyes, Oda Nobunaga wasn’t fit to be lord. Serpentine meant cunning. Nobuyuki, at least, could preserve the Oda name.
Loyalty to the clan, not the person.
That was Shibata Katsuie’s creed. Which was why she couldn’t fathom Hirate Masahide’s choice.
‘If he backed the lady, we could’ve effectively changed the lord.’
The justification overflowed. Nobunaga’s outrage at the late lord Nobuhide’s funeral alone was scandal enough.
“Hm.”
Lost in thought as she rode silently, Shibata’s ears caught Nobuyuki’s mischievous hum. Looking up, she instantly understood what had piqued her interest.
Through the crowd, a familiar face—and a stranger—came into view.
‘Lord Hirate. And... ah, so that’s the one from Joseon...’
Was the mask’s vision too narrow? Or had she been too deep in thought?
By the time she snapped out of it, Nobuyuki had dismounted and approached them.
“...Tch.”
Duty-bound to guard her, she hurriedly dismounted and followed. The Shibata retainers swiftly cleared the crowd, opening a path.
‘...Well, no harm in greetings.’
It was rushed, but she understood Nobuyuki. Lord Hirate was someone she respected—and the de facto pillar of the current Oda clan.
“It’s been a while, Lord Hirate.”
“My lady.”
They weren’t far, so Nobuyuki soon reached Hirate Masahide. He responded with a concise smile.
“The reason I approached you immediately, Lord Hirate, is because I have a rather important proposal.”
Contrary to expectations of mere pleasantries, she smiled brightly at Masahide—or rather, at Il-yeong standing beside him—and said,
“To be direct: I’d like to marry your adopted son, Lord Hikage. What do you think?”
“...Pardon?”
It was.
A statement shocking enough to stun them all.