So it remained, deadlocked.
The stalemate held until dawn.
Four maiden warriors bearing the power of a divine artifact surrounded the main tent, their golden light undimmed, their weapons unlowered, their eyes locked hard on the oni warrior who gripped their commander-in-chief's shoulder.
But no one moved.
Naoe Kanetsugu was held fast in his grip, arcs of thunder leaping ceaselessly along her pauldron. The moment Kōbe Hikaru's fingers tightened even slightly, that current would tear straight through her body.
Everyone present saw this clearly.
Three thousand soldiers stood arrayed in the outer ring, spears and bows aimed toward this spot, yet not one dared loose an arrow.
The air stayed frozen the whole night through.
The bonfires burned down and were fed again, fed again and burned down.
In the east the sky shifted from black to gray, from gray to white, and the first thread of dawn finally crested the ridge.
Golden sunlight spilled across the Uesugi army's camp, staining the great banner—the character "毘" (Bi, of Bishamonten)—a warm yellow.
Kōbe Hikaru leaned against the wooden post of the main tent, the crimson oni mask covering his face, his posture almost indolent.
He was waiting.
He had waited all night.
And yet Uesugi Kenshin had not come.
It couldn't be that she'd met some obstacle on the road—with that woman's power, nothing in all of Musashi Province could stop her.
Except Kikyō.
But Kikyō guarded Kaede Village and would not strike out on her own.
That left only one possibility.
She had never intended to return at all.
As the sky brightened, that thought grew clearer and clearer.
Meanwhile.
Naoe Kanetsugu, who had stood all night with her shoulder in his grip, suddenly laughed.
Not a bitter laugh, nor a mocking one, but a laugh full of pride.
"You'll wait in vain," she said.
She had spoken. Her voice was a little hoarse from a night without water, but still clear.
"What?"
"Our lord."
Naoe Kanetsugu turned her head, tilting her face slightly within the limits of Kōbe Hikaru's hold. Those steady eyes gazed from close range at the slits in the crimson oni mask, her look frank; and as though she too had recognized who Kōbe Hikaru was, she spoke.
"I know—you're waiting for our lord to return, so you can use me as a bargaining chip against her."
"But she won't be coming back."
Kōbe Hikaru said nothing; beneath the oni mask his crimson demon eyes contracted slightly.
"Our lord went alone to that village of yours last night, and from the very start she never meant to bring back any result."
Naoe Kanetsugu's tone was flat, as if describing something long since planned. "Call it an invitation, call it a probe—it was only her 'courtesy.'"
"Once it was done, she left."
"And we—"
Naoe Kanetsugu lifted her chin, gesturing at the soldiers and maiden warriors poised for battle all around.
"—are merely the reserve left behind here."
Kōbe Hikaru looked at her.
"You're saying she never meant to return to this camp at all?"
"Correct."
The corner of Naoe Kanetsugu's mouth curved upward, that smile carrying a full understanding of her lord's art of war. "Did you think these three thousand were the main force sent to attack that village of yours?"
She said no more.
But it was enough.
Kōbe Hikaru understood.
These three thousand were not the main force.
They were bait.
Uesugi Kenshin—her true objective—
had never been Kaede Village, had never been him.
He raised his head, his gaze passing over the tops of the tents, toward—the south.
Her target...
"Is the Hōjō clan?"
In the southern reaches of Musashi Province, on a path hidden among the mountains.
Uesugi Kenshin walked at the very front of the column.
A white monk's robe, light armor, a white gauze veil over her head; her long silver-white hair drifted slowly in the morning wind, the few strands of jet-black hair woven through it swaying gently with each step.
Those who followed behind her were few—only five hundred—yet all of them the elite of the elite: the personal guard attached directly to the Echigo Uesugi clan, moving swift and light, without baggage train, without great banners, without even horses.
Every one of them went on foot.
Because on this trail winding among the ridges, horses would only be a burden.
Nor had this force been split off from the great northern camp.
From first to last it had never appeared in that camp at all.
Before marching south from Echigo, Uesugi Kenshin had already divided her strength into two.
Three thousand took the main road and made camp at a mountain pass in northern Musashi Province, with a great show of pomp and banners, the Kon Banner flying high—so that everyone, including Kōbe Hikaru, including the Hōjō, including the Takeda watching through their spies, would see Echigo's military might stationed there.
Five hundred took the small paths, circling through the mountains, concealing every trace.
Kenshin herself shuttled between the two columns—first going to Kaede Village to complete the ritual of the invitation, then, rather than returning to the northern camp, heading straight south to join this hidden force.
The three thousand existed to be seen by all.
The march of the five hundred was the true edge of the blade.
"Report—the forward scouts relay that no unusual watch has been detected toward Odawara Castle."
A ninja concealed ahead as a scout appeared soundlessly at Kenshin's side, dropping to one knee.
Uesugi Kenshin did not break stride.
"And the Hōjō main force?"
"Still deployed in the north, countering the pressure from our camp. As for Ujiyasu herself, she is at present within Odawara Castle."
"And the Takeda?"
"No movement in Kai; Yamagata Masakage's unit has not shifted eastward."
Uesugi Kenshin gave a slight nod.
All of it was as expected.
Takeda Shingen was one who both loved war and excelled at it, yet also a shrewd one—too shrewd to move rashly while the situation remained unclear.
Fūrinkazan—immovable as the mountain.
She would watch and wait.
She would decide which side to take only after the dust had settled.
As for Hōjō Ujiyasu, there was no need to say more.
All her attention was held fast by that great camp of three thousand in the north.
That yōkai—Kōbe Hikaru—and the disturbance he'd stirred up in the north had, in fact, done Kenshin a favor.
Because it turned the eyes of both the Hōjō and the Takeda toward the north.
No one was watching the south.
No one imagined that Echigo's God of War would slip past every watching eye and, with five hundred elites, drive straight into the rear of Odawara Castle.
Make the real seem empty.
Make the empty seem real.
The great camp of three thousand was the empty; the surprise strike of five hundred was the real.
The solitary invitation was the empty; the refusal to return north was the real.
Naoe Kanetsugu's capture—that too was real, and it had not been within Uesugi Kenshin's expectations.
But even knowing of it, Uesugi Kenshin would not worry.
Because Naoe Kanetsugu was her most trusted retainer, the one who understood her best.
And because by the time Kōbe Hikaru truly grasped what was happening—
it would all be too late.
Uesugi Kenshin lifted her head.
The morning light fell upon her face, and across those exquisite yet indifferent features surfaced, for the first time—interest.
Not interest in battle.
It was interest in "righteousness."
"Bishamonten protects the world, cutting down evil and slaying demons—this is the duty of a god."
She spoke in a low voice, as if talking to herself, or reporting to some unseen presence.
"And the order of the mortal world—likewise needs a god's hand to set it right."
"Hōjō Ujiyasu, you cannot hold this land."
"Not because you are weak."
"It is because your 'righteousness' is not pure enough."
Those who style themselves gods have always been extreme and self-proud—let alone Uesugi Kenshin, who truly held the power of the gods and buddhas, who was the very incarnation of them.
The wind swept across the ridge.
The footfalls of the five hundred were fine and even, like a mountain stream murmuring low.
No banners, no horns.
Only the silent march.
And a girl who believed herself the hand of divine will, walking at the very front.
Southward.
Straight for Odawara.
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