Chapter 60
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Marching Out
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“S-Saito Dosan has raised an army!”
The messenger’s words instantly froze the atmosphere.
That announcement meant the full-scale civil war in Mino had begun.
Thus, the retainers’ eyes turned to Oda Nobunaga. Even setting aside her personal fury, the chaos in Mino was an opportunity for Owari. However...
“We have no idea how the Lady will respond.”
No one in the room needed clarification on who “the Lady” meant. It was a reference to Oda Nobuyuki.
As Niwa Nagahide said, Owari remained unstable. Pushing too hard could shake the Oda Clan itself.
And so, no one dared voice an opinion.
That was when it happened.
“Give me three hundred samurai and seven hundred ashigaru.”
A calm voice cut through the silence hanging over the meeting hall. Soon, all eyes turned to him, and the man who had spoken—Baek Il-yeong—met their gazes steadily as he continued.
“I can’t promise great feats, but I’ll bring at least some Mino territory under Owari and repay the Daimyo’s grace that way.”
Just a thousand troops.
But in reverse, for hit-and-run tactics rather than pitched battle, it was actually an appropriate number.
Il-yeong adjusted his robes under Nobunaga’s gaze, which lingered on his abdomen, and spoke.
“In the current situation, it’s the best option. Daimyo. And...”
For a moment, Il-yeong’s eyes turned icy.
“Don’t I have a debt to repay?”
A debt to repay.
The chill from those words wasn’t felt by the retainers alone. Even Nobunaga, who had been about to refuse outright using his injury as an excuse, found herself hesitating.
But then.
“Grant it, Daimyo.”
With a soft chuckle, Niwa Nagahide’s voice rang out. As Nobunaga shot her a look of disbelief, Niwa traced the fan resting on her lap with a finger and continued.
“I’ll go with him and serve as strategist to ensure nothing goes wrong. Besides, a thousand in total should allow us to gain something and return without major issues.”
“But his wounds haven’t fully healed.”
Yoshinari’s voice interjected.
Yet the one who responded wasn’t her, but Il-yeong.
“It’s fine.”
A faint smile tugged at the lips of the man who had worn an expressionless mask until now. In that instant, Nobunaga and Yoshinari’s resolve nearly wavered unconsciously.
Il-yeong glanced at Itsuki standing behind him and added.
“I’ll only be commanding. The fighting will be done by my retainer.”
“...Huh?”
All eyes turned to Itsuki.
Caught off guard by the sudden scrutiny—not just from the senior retainers but from lesser vassals as well—Itsuki panicked, but Il-yeong pressed on unperturbed.
“He’s a warrior who’s crossed countless brushes with death alongside me. He may lack fame now and seem like a mere commoner, but I believe he’ll make a name for himself one day.”
As he spoke, he flicked his robes dramatically.
Naturally, the looks directed at Il-yeong and Itsuki weren’t exactly welcoming.
Even Hirate Masahide had enemies.
How many more must a Joseon native like Il-yeong have? And inwardly, that was partly what he intended.
He had realized something during the recent assassination attempt.
He trusted Nobunaga and Yoshinari, but he needed to cultivate his own people to some degree.
‘Especially ninjas.’
Samurai alone weren’t enough to protect those dear to him. For now, though, bolstering Itsuki would have to suffice.
The meeting hall froze once more, this time with a different tension. A few retainers opened their mouths to object.
But then.
“...Take Yoshinari with you.”
Nobunaga’s eventual words silenced those about to speak. Once her command was given, silence was the proper response.
Il-yeong bowed his head slightly.
And Yoshinari met Nobunaga’s gaze before nodding in kind.
The two women’s eyes met.
No words were exchanged, yet their intent seemed to pass between them.
‘Hmph.’
Niwa Nagahide watched the exchange, fixing Il-yeong with an enigmatic look.
Once the meeting ended, the retainers dispersed swiftly, divided by factions and opinions. Soon, only the usual faces remained in the hall.
“Haa. You’re driving me mad.”
Oda Nobunaga’s pale foot twitched as if about to kick Il-yeong. At the same time, Yoshinari’s cold gaze fell on him.
“Ahaha...”
He scratched his cheek with an awkward laugh.
Then, Hirate Masahide’s deep voice rumbled in his ear.
“You interrogated the ninjas, didn’t you?”
“...Yes.”
Il-yeong nodded at his adoptive father’s words.
He couldn’t complain even if scolded for going too far. It had been necessary, and he’d do it the same way again.
But the response was unexpected.
“Good work.”
“Pardon?”
He’d been inwardly wondering if he’d overdone it. Yet not only Hirate Masahide but everyone still present seemed to view it as the appropriate measure.
—Indeed, these were chaotic times.
Meanwhile, Nobunaga glanced at Niwa Nagahide and Mori Yoshinari.
“If that fool draws his sword, just kick his horse out from under him and drag him back by force.”
She might accept it if his wounds were fully healed.
But if he took another serious injury in that state, he’d truly become Il/yeong—done for.
After her advice, the two women nodded. With that matter settled for the time being, the rest departed the hall.
Il-yeong sent the women ahead and stayed behind, saying he wanted to savor the tea still on the board.
How much time passed?
Soon, the woman Il-yeong had been waiting for arrived.
“...Hi-Hikage-sama.”
The woman with silver hair and silver eyes—perhaps the one who had found the earlier meeting the most painful and frightening.
“Yes, Nohime-sama.”
Il-yeong gazed at Nohime, who seemed to have waited for everyone to leave, and spoke the words she most wanted to hear.
“If possible, I’ll try to save Lord Dosan.”
And in that moment.
A tearful smile bloomed on Nohime’s face.
With the march decided, Il-yeong moved quickly.
To evade the eyes of Oda Nobuyuki’s ninjas infiltrated everywhere, the designated troops disguised themselves as merchants or peasants and headed toward Mino.
By the next day, excluding those who’d lost their way or deserted intentionally, the full force had gathered in the plains.
“Quite a lot.”
“Yes. A thousand isn’t a small force.”
Niwa Nagahide responded to Il-yeong’s remark.
Her indigo long hair swayed with her horse’s movements, and her simple armor stood out as usual.
“...Seriously, couldn’t you have at least consulted us?”
Then Itsuki’s voice rang out as he returned from inspecting the troops. Il-yeong chuckled at his grumbling and replied.
“If you don’t like it, go home.”
“That’s not it, but...”
It had been sudden, but Itsuki knew Il-yeong’s intentions. He even had an inkling of what he hoped for.
Thus, he ran a hand over the finer general’s armor he wore—better made than his usual garb—and said.
“Tch. Feels sturdy, though.”
Unlike his days as just another of the Hirate family’s many samurai, Itsuki was now a retainer Il-yeong was promoting. Naturally, everything from his armor to his weapons had improved in quality.
At that moment, Yoshinari—who had also been checking the troops—shot Il-yeong a summoning glance.
“A moment.”
“Yes.”
“Hm.”
He left Itsuki and Nagahide behind to approach Yoshinari. Once close, she tilted her head slightly and whispered in his ear.
“...Want to die?”
It was a chilling voice laced with worry.
But Il-yeong met her icy, rigid gaze, his body trembling inwardly.
Her eyes held so much.
Especially since even during Nobunaga’s endless nagging before departure, she had stayed silent—making it all the more terrifying.
—An unforgivable blunder.
Knowing that, Il-yeong’s lips twitched before he bowed his head.
“...S-Sorry.”
“Haa.”
Yoshinari’s furrowed brow relaxed.
Her bound hair peeked from behind the beetle-like helmet, and her chest heaved beneath the armor.
“...Don’t fight this time. For real.”
That was all she could say. Il-yeong nodded with a smile, fully aware of how much his decision had worried the two women.
“Of course.”
And then.
Ahem— Niwa Nagahide’s deliberate cough sounded.
Il-yeong lightly brushed Yoshinari’s back to send her back to her place and turned.
Deep into the night.
A thousand troops stood on the plains, all eyes fixed on Il-yeong.
Thus, he ran a hand over Onimaru at his waist and declared.
“No need to be tense.”
There was no reason for long speeches or elaborate thoughts.
He simply intended to ground them in reality.
“We’ll just cut down the Mino vermin targeting Owari—our families—and return.”
If he could save Saito Dosan, he would.
But if not, that was that.
...Sorry, Kicho.
Il-yeong swallowed his final words, turned his horse toward Mino, and shouted.
“March out!”