Chapter 111: Without a Divine apply
Hikaru had always understood one simple truth.
The humans of this world were not weak.
The turbid qi of heaven and earth had sunk and condensed, giving rise to demons. Monsters and ghosts filled the mountains and wildlands. Over the millennia, as the forces of man and demon waxed and waned, logic dictated that humans—beings without demonic energy or the power of transformation—should have been pushed to the very bottom of the food chain.
But the reality was the exact opposite.
The cities were in their hands. The land was in their hands. And order—even the fractured order of the Sengoku period—remained in their hands.
Since his arrival in this world, he had seen far too much evidence to support this point.
There was no need to even mention Kikyo. When she drew her bow and loosed a Sacred Arrow, even a high-level demon who had achieved Materialization—or a powerhouse like the Twelve Transformations Kidomaru, who bordered on the strength of a Great Yokai—would be instantly annihilated if they took the hit directly instead of relying on speed to evade it. She was the true strongest shrine maiden of the Sengoku period, possessing spiritual power and an intimidating presence sufficient to rival a Great Yokai.
And beyond her...
Bankotsu of the Band of Seven rampaged across battlefields, wielding his greatsword, Banryu. Despite being a mere mortal, his raw physical strength was ferocious enough to rival a Six Transformations demon.
Then there were the mages, Onmyoji, and exorcists scattered across the land. Though their quality varied, they could form a sufficient deterrent against common demons as long as they gathered in groups.
All of this was within his expectations. Human mages capable of contending with demons were not a rarity, nor were mortal warriors who could slay monsters with their own flesh and blood.
Otherwise, humanity would have gone extinct long ago.
But the matter of gods and buddhas descending to the mortal world...
That still exceeded his expectations.
Uesugi Kenshin claimed to be an incarnation of Bishamonten, and the tachi wielded by her subordinate War Maiden, Kakizaki Kageie, could weaken and suppress all things supernatural.
Takeda Shingen claimed to be the reincarnation of Fudo Myo-o, and the stone hammer swung by her subordinate, Yamagata Masakage, could bind all things 'non-human'.
Both of those women contained a special power within their bodies, a power his system could detect as a 'target for capture.' It was neither demonic energy nor spiritual power.
They called it the 'power of a Divine apply.'
If all of this was true—if this world truly had precedents of gods and buddhas descending to earth—then wasn't it utterly baffling that Great Yokai who had lived for centuries could still run rampant everywhere?
Fortunately, judging from the recent exchange, the situation wasn't quite that desperate.
Kakizaki Kageie's tachi could indeed suppress the extraordinary, but she herself had still been sent flying by a single slash from Hikaru.
Yamagata Masakage's stone hammer could indeed pin down a target, but that layer of 'immovable' binding had still been forcibly shattered by his Thunder Muscle.
If that had been the true manifestation of the divine weapon in Bishamonten's hands, if it had been Fudo Myo-o himself descending to wield his apply, Hikaru feared he wouldn't even be able to form the thought of resistance.
But those War Maidens were clearly not the gods or the Divine applies themselves.
They were merely vessels. A structure equivalent to a fragment.
They were fragments of the power of a god's or buddha's apply, residing within a human body.
Strong, but with a definite upper limit.
Knowing that was enough.
The forest of Bone Spikes still stood, a stark white landmark on the plains, dividing the battlefield in two. The twilight deepened, leaving only a streak of dark gold in the horizon's afterglow. It spilled across the scorched grass and the scattered fragments of iron armor, painting the carnage in a final, somber light.
To the north, the Hojo clan's army, having lost its commander, did not collapse. The remaining generals and clan elders quickly took command, and the formations gathered and retreated in an orderly fashion. Spearmen formed the front, archers the rear, and cavalry fanned out to protect the flanks.
They were not panicked, not chaotic. The military discipline of the Hojo was indeed solid. Even though their commander had been tucked under the arm of a woman in red armor and carried away like a sack of rice, these soldiers still maintained their formation.
The banners bearing the three-scale crest gradually moved away in the twilight, finally disappearing behind the ridgeline of the northern hills.
They were going to retrieve their lord.
The Takeda Red Corps had long since vanished; not even a shadow of their Fūrinkazan banner remained.
The Imagawa clan's battle line had also shrunk by more than half. They had been stabbed in the back, and although the Takeda cavalry had withdrawn, the rearguard had suffered significant losses, and morale had dropped accordingly.
But Imagawa Yoshimoto herself did not retreat.
She dismounted once again at the edge of the Bone Spikes, her movements even more agile than before. Perhaps it was the shock of the Takeda Red Corps' surprise attack, but that composed, pampered ease had been stripped away, replaced by a more pragmatic sense of urgency.
The smile on her face, however, had not changed.
And on the entire battlefield, they were the only two left who could hold a conversation.
"They've left." Imagawa Yoshimoto watched the distant banners to the north, the lingering echo of her recent laughter still present in her voice. "Ujiyasu was tucked under someone's arm and carried away... Ah, that scene... I really should have brought a painter—"
She wanted to laugh again but managed to hold it back.
Because Hikaru was looking at her.
The gaze from beneath the crimson oni mask was fixed upon her, but it wasn't looking at her face. Nor was it looking at the figure vaguely visible beneath her layered jūnihitoe—though that slender waist and the outline wrapped in luxurious fabric were indeed hard to ignore.
His gaze simply swept over her, from top to bottom, and then from bottom to top.
There was no appreciation in it. Nor was there any hostility.
...There was only a gaze of 'confirmation.'
Imagawa Yoshimoto noticed his stare. Her smile stiffened for a moment. For a daimyo to be scrutinized like this, regardless of whether the other party was human or demon, was not a pleasant experience.
Especially when the emotion revealed in that sweeping gaze was not awe, not covetousness, but—
Disappointment.
It was full of disappointment.
Imagawa Yoshimoto's mouth twitched. She was no fool. When the Takeda Red Corps had charged, she had clearly seen the power of the stone hammer in the hands of that red-haired War Maiden. She was also well aware of the reports concerning the Uesugi clan's multiple southward expeditions to exterminate demons.
Now, seeing Hikaru look at her with that kind of expression—
"Stop looking." The hem of her twelve-layered kimono dragged in the evening breeze, and her dark hair was blown across her face. She reached up to brush it aside, revealing eyes that were no longer smiling. "I have no monsters like those from Kai or Echigo."
Hikaru withdrew his gaze.
Indeed, there were none. There was no extraordinary aura on Imagawa Yoshimoto. No spiritual power, no demonic energy, and certainly none of the so-called 'power of a Divine apply' around her.
She was a completely ordinary person. A mortal daimyo with no extraordinary power beyond her political schemes and ambition.
That was why she could not block the monstrous night raid from the Takeda.
That was why, if she encountered the Uesugi demon-extermination army pressing down on her border, she would most likely have to take a detour.
And that was why she had spared no expense, raising an army of two thousand and penetrating deep into another's territory, all to recruit him—this demon—to her cause.
Because in this Sengoku period where 'incarnations of gods and buddhas descend to the world,'a daimyo without a War Maiden transformed by a'Divine apply' under their command was utterly powerless when facing an opponent who possessed one.
No matter how many troops, no matter how deep the schemes—they could not bridge this chasm.
'You have no Divine apply. No wonder you would lose to that Oda Nobunaga.'Hikaru muttered the thought to himself. Although that was a matter for the future, and although the history of this world was already unrecognizable, if that existence claiming to be the'Demon King of the Sixth Heaven' also possessed some kind of extraordinary power like Takeda and Uesugi—then Imagawa Yoshimoto's defeat and death at Okehazama would not be as simple as a disparity in military strength or a tactical error.
It was the fundamental gap between 'having'and'not having.'
Of course, he would not say these words aloud. The expression of the lord of Suruga Province before him was already ugly enough. With Hojo Ujiyasu already carried off by Takeda, he had no need to fall out with another Sengoku daimyo.
Though he wasn't afraid to, either.
After all, this person had no power that could restrain him... wait. No power that could restrain him?
A strange thought stirred in Hikaru's mind.
Compared to the Hojo clan, who were allied with Takeda... the Imagawa clan seemed, perhaps, more... suitable?
As if sensing his shift in thought, Imagawa Yoshimoto spoke up immediately, her voice lowered. She raised her head, looking at the crimson oni mask. Her petite, slender figure stood in the twilight, the skirt of her jūnihitoe trailing across the charred grass, the golden butterfly ornament in her hair glimmering faintly in the last of the daylight.
There was no longer any ease in her eyes. Only seriousness.
"This is the reason I need you."
"Takeda has Fudo Myo-o, and Uesugi has Bishamonten."
"And I, the Imagawa Clan—" She paused, taking a deep breath, suppressing her inner frustration, yet still added through gritted teeth, "—have nothing."
The admission was frank. So frank it was almost startling. For a daimyo to admit to an outsider that she had nothing required courage, but it also required a stark clarity of her situation.
"But I have castles, soldiers, provisions, and the three most prosperous provinces of the Tokaido."
Imagawa Yoshimoto took a step forward. Her petite frame only reached Hikaru's chest. As she looked up at him, the intensity in her eyes seemed no less than that of the Takeda warrior who had swung the hammer just moments ago.
"What I lack is simply a blade—a blade capable of cutting down 'gods'."
She raised a slender finger and pointed it at him. It was steady, without a hint of trembling.
"And you," she declared, "are that blade. A 'god' capable of opposing gods."
Hikaru looked down at her, silent for a long moment. Yura of the Hair, held in his arm, shuddered, seemingly about to offer a snide comment, but he suppressed her with a pulse of demonic power.
"I want more concrete terms," he said, his voice direct, almost rude. "Benefits."
But Imagawa Yoshimoto smiled. This was the sentence she had been waiting for.
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