Chapter 8
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Shiba's Secret Letter
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"Is that so."
‘Soon, the man who holds Shiba Castle will come to see the Daimyo. Let’s continue the story after that.’
“Hmm.”
Right after sending Yoshinari away, Hirate Masahide didn’t leave at once. Instead, he stroked his chin, lost in thought. At that moment, Uemon approached him cautiously and spoke.
“Father. If it’s Shiba...”
“Yes.”
Masahide nodded at her words and replied softly.
“The original masters of Owari Province, now little more than a name.”
Originally, the ones acknowledged by the Shogun to rule Owari were not the Oda Clan, but the Shiba Clan. They had been recognized as Owari’s daimyo in the past, and up until then, the Oda Clan had been mere retainers to the Shiba.
But when the Warring States era began and the Imagawa Clan repeatedly invaded, the Oda Main Branch seized power in the chaos.
However, the current lords of Owari were not the Oda Main Branch, but Nobuhide’s Oda Clan—a collateral line among collateral lines. Hirate Masahide’s thoughts reached that point, and he gave a wry smile.
‘Not for nothing is he called the Tiger of Owari.’
There was good reason he had devoted his youth to serving Nobuhide. Starting as a local official from the most distant branch, Nobuhide had overtaken both the Shiba Clan and the Oda Main Branch through sheer ability, swallowing Owari whole.
Because of that, even though Masahide had a rough idea of what Il-yeong intended, he couldn’t easily agree.
“To inform on the Oda Main Branch’s rebellion to the daughter of the one who utterly ruined the Shiba Clan...”
The identity of whoever ordered the ambush hadn’t been revealed yet, but most were already convinced it was Oda Nobutomo, lord of the Oda Main Branch. To him, still clinging to power, Oda Nobunaga—with her shaky support base—must seem an easy prey.
But that was the question.
Why would someone from the Shiba Clan inform on it? It could be dismissed as nonsense, but it nagged at him.
“You never know.”
Uemon, who had been silent beside him, spoke up then.
“To those who hold Shiba Castle, the Oda Main Branch—who provided the original cause—might be even more hateful.”
“Mm...”
He could have brushed it off as childish nonsense from his young daughter, but Masahide mulled over Uemon’s words and nodded. She often showed insights beyond her years.
“Hrm... Let’s wait and see for now.”
But this time, even he couldn’t be certain, so he rose from his seat and said,
Slide.
“If it turns out to be nonsense...”
He muttered lowly as he opened the door.
“He won’t die easily.”
And behind such a Masahide,
Uemon nodded with a cold expression unbelievable for a young girl.
“Yes, Father.”
And so, back to the present.
Hirate Masahide looked at Il-yeong with an incredulous expression and asked.
“A secret letter has arrived in the name of Shiba Yoshimitsu. He claims to have proof that Oda Nobutomo is plotting an ambush.”
“Mmgh.”
At his words, Il-yeong stretched lazily, looking every bit the wastrel. He brushed off a fly from the nape of his neck and said,
“Good. We can use that as pretext to strike down Oda Nobutomo.”
It was the kind of prediction anyone on the street could make. What troubled Masahide was that Il-yeong had told him before the letter arrived.
Hirate Masahide eyed him with even greater wariness than before and asked,
“...You wouldn’t happen to have a spy in the Oda Main Branch?”
How else could he think?
Yet Masahide’s voice lacked its earlier certainty. The reason was simple.
Il-yeong smirked, straightening his shabby clothes, and said,
“No matter how you think about it, that’s an utterly unrealistic question, isn’t it?”
“......”
Masahide had no reply.
And rightly so—planting a spy in the Oda Main Branch didn’t make sense from the start.
He himself had ordered surveillance the moment Il-yeong arrived seeking shelter. Over the past two months, Il-yeong hadn’t done anything remotely suspicious, let alone contact the main branch.
It would be more believable that the current Daimyo, Oda Nobunaga, would unify the land.
‘What in the world is going on...’
For the first time in ages, Masahide realized his judgment was clouding, and he felt confused.
That was when it happened.
“No need to be so confused. It’s just a matter of thinking differently.”
Straightening his disheveled garments, he continued.
“There are spies inside Owari Province, of course. Whether from other daimyo, monks pounding wooden drums in temples, or even real ones from Joseon... but.”
Il-yeong met Masahide’s gaze and smirked.
“At least, I’m not one of them. As I said before, I’m just a ronin who came here purely to see Oda Nobunaga. Well, even if you suspect me, it doesn’t matter.”
In that instant, Masahide’s face reflected in his black pupils. At the same time, Il-yeong’s lips curved into a grin as he spoke.
“I can’t imagine the Chief Advisor, Lord Hirate himself, coming in person means nothing.”
“...You’ve seen through it all, then.”
Only then did Masahide realize he’d been seen through from the beginning. He smiled in disbelief and thought,
‘A spy bolder than imagination, or perhaps truly a talent who crossed the sea...’
The answer was already set in his mind, but to the very end, he left a sliver of doubt and played the kindly old man on the surface.
“Then let’s go. The Daimyo is waiting.”
**
Nagoya’s loftiest castle keep.
“...Things are getting interesting.”
A woman with black bobbed hair and somewhere dark golden eyes murmured lowly as she opened them.
Her lips curved into a smile, and a strange madness flickered in her eyes. Soon, she rose slowly, dragging her black robe half-touching the ground, and walked to the wall.
There, dozens of Japanese swords she had collected were arrayed. With her pale, slender hand, she lightly caressed one gleaming with crystalline beauty.
“Nobutomo... That old fool dares to rebel against me.”
It was something she had anticipated, but feeling it become reality was quite different.
Isn’t it fun?
Trash who used to bow their heads while Father lived now lifted them, claiming to be human.
But what held her interest now wasn’t Oda Nobutomo or the Oda Main Branch. The pathetic worm from old Shiba testifying to the rebellion was even less so.
Smirk.
Her blood-red lips, stark against her snow-white skin, parted lowly, murmuring a man’s name.
“Baek Il-yeong, was it.”
About two months ago. How could she not be intrigued by the news that a ronin claiming to come from Joseon had foreseen every event?
She stroked her subtly heated shoulders with her hand, returned to her bed and sat, murmuring,
“I’ll know when I see him myself.”
In that moment, her gaze turned to the desk before the bed. There lay not just a map of the islands, but a world map encompassing vast continents.
“From Joseon, huh...”
Her finger tapped the peninsula right beside the islands on the map, and she smirked.
“Indeed. I’m curious.”
Was he truly the bold spy Hirate Masahide described? Or a noble who crossed the sea?
She’d know when they met.
And then.
“Daimyo. The Chief Advisor has arrived.”
A samurai’s flat voice rang from outside, and soon she—Oda Nobunaga—raised the corner of her mouth in a smirk and replied.
“Is that so.”