Kanbe Hikaru had always understood one thing.
The humans of this world were not weak.
The Turbid Qi of heaven and earth sank to condense into demons, and monsters and ghosts filled the mountains and wild fields. Over thousands of years, as they waxed and waned, logically speaking, humans, as beings without Demonic Qi or the power of transformation, should have been pushed to the bottom of the food chain.
But the reality was exactly the opposite.
Cities were in their hands, land was in their hands, and order—even the broken order of the Sengoku Period—remained in their hands.
Since he transmigrated, he had seen too many existences that could prove this point.
There was no need to mention Kikyo; when her Sacred Arrow was fired at full draw, even high-level demons of the Materialization level, or even Twelve Transformations Kidomaru, who was close to the Great Yokai level, would likely be killed in one hit if they were struck squarely instead of relying on speed to circle around.
She was the true strongest shrine maiden of the Sengoku Period, possessing spiritual power and intimidation sufficient to rival a Great Yokai.
Besides that.
Bankotsu of the Band of Seven rampaged across the battlefield carrying his great sword, Banryu. Despite being a mere mortal body, his raw strength was fierce enough to rival a Six Transformations demon.
Those mages, Onmyoji, and Exorcists scattered across the land, although of varying quality, could form a sufficient deterrent against ordinary demons as long as they gathered in groups.
These were all within his expectations.
Human mages capable of contending with demons were not scarce, and mortal warriors capable of slaying demons with flesh and blood were not scarce either.
Otherwise, humanity would have gone extinct long ago.
But—
The matter of gods and buddhas descending to the world.
Still exceeded his expectations.
Uesugi Kenshin claimed to be an incarnation of Bishamonten, and the Tachi wielded by her subordinate Hime-musha, 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 'non-human' things.
Both of them contained special powers within their bodies that could be detected by his system as 'targets for capture.'
That was not Demonic Qi, nor was it spiritual power.
They called it, 'power of the Divine Artifact.'
If all of this was true—
If this world really had precedents of gods and buddhas descending to earth—
Then wouldn't it be inexplicable that Great Yokais who had lived for hundreds of years could still run rampant everywhere?
Fortunately.
Judging from the exchange just now, the situation was not that desperate.
Kakizaki Kageie's Tachi could indeed suppress everything extraordinary, but her existence was still slashed by Kanbe Hikaru in one strike.
Yamagata Masakage's stone hammer could indeed pin down a target, but that layer of 'immovable' binding was still forcibly broken by his Thunder Muscle.
If that was truly the manifestation of the Divine Artifact in Bishamonten's hands, if it was Fudo Myo-o holding the implement and personally descending—he feared he wouldn't even be able to form the thought of resisting.
But those Hime-mushas were clearly not the gods or the Divine Artifacts themselves.
They were just incarnations.
A structure equivalent to fragments.
They were fragments of the power of the gods and buddhas' implements, residing within human bodies.
Strong, but with an upper limit.
Knowing this was enough.
The forest of Bone Spikes was still there.
White Bone Spikes stood on the plain, dividing the battlefield in two.
The twilight deepened, and only a streak of dark gold remained in the horizon's afterglow, spilling onto the scorched grass and scattered fragments of iron armor.
On the north side.
The Hojo Clan army, having lost its commander, did not collapse.
Several remaining generals and the elders of the Hojo Clan quickly took over command, and the army formation orderly gathered and retreated. Spearmen were in the front, archers in the rear, and cavalry fanned out on the flanks to protect the sides.
Not panicked, not chaotic.
The military discipline of the Hojo Clan was indeed solid.
Even though their commander had been tucked under the arm of a woman in red armor and carried away, these soldiers still maintained their formation.
The banners with 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.
One couldn't even see the shadow of that Fūrinkazan banner.
The Imagawa Clan's battle line had also shrunk by more than half—they had been stabbed in the back, and although the Takeda Clan cavalry had left, the rearguard defending the back had suffered significant losses, and morale had dropped a notch 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 because she had experienced the surprise attack by the Takeda Red Corps; that composed, pampered ease had been scattered a bit, replaced by a more pragmatic sense of urgency.
But the smile on her face had not changed.
And on the entire battlefield, they were the only two left who could converse.
"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 held it back.
Because Kanbe Hikaru was looking at her.
The gaze beneath the crimson oni mask was landing on her.
But it was not looking at her face.
Nor was it looking at the figure vaguely visible beneath her layered twelve-layered kimono—although that slender waist and the outline wrapped in luxurious fabric were indeed hard to ignore.
It was just from top to bottom, and then from bottom to top.
There was no appreciative gaze.
Nor was there any hostility.
...Only a gaze of 'confirmation.'
Imagawa Yoshimoto noticed his gaze.
Her smile stiffened for a moment.
For a daimyo to be looked at like this, regardless of whether the other party was human or demon, was not a pleasant experience.
Especially when the gaze swept over, the emotion revealed was not awe, not covetousness, but—
Disappointment.
Full of disappointment.
Imagawa Yoshimoto's mouth twitched.
She was not stupid either.
When the Takeda Red Corps charged earlier, she had seen the power of the stone hammer in the hands of that red-haired Hime-musha clearly.
She was also very clear about the news of the Uesugi Clan's multiple southward expeditions to exterminate demons.
Now that Kanbe Hikaru was looking at her with that kind of gaze—
"Stop looking."
The hem of her twelve-layered kimono dragged in the evening breeze, and her dark hair was blown to the side of her face; she reached out to brush it aside, revealing those eyes that were no longer smiling.
"On my side, there are no monsters like those from Kai or Echigo."
Kanbe Hikaru withdrew his gaze.
Indeed, there were none.
There was no extraordinary aura on Imagawa Yoshimoto.
No spiritual power, no Demonic Qi, and certainly no so-called 'power of the Divine Artifact' around her.
She was a completely, ordinary person.
A mortal daimyo without any extraordinary power other than political scheming and ambition.
That was why she could not block the monster night raid from the Takeda Clan side.
That was why if she encountered the Uesugi Clan demon-extermination army pressing down on the border, she would most likely have to take a detour.
That was why she had spared no cost to raise an army of two thousand and penetrate deep into another country's territory, just to recruit him, this demon, under her banner.
Because in this Sengoku Period where 'incarnations of gods and buddhas descend to the world.'
A daimyo without a Hime-musha transformed from a 'Divine Artifact' under their command was just this powerless when facing an opponent who had a 'Divine Artifact.'
No matter how many troops, no matter how deep the schemes—they could not bridge this chasm.
So...
You have no Divine Artifact.
No wonder you would lose to that Oda Nobunaga.
Kanbe Hikaru muttered to himself in his heart.
Although that should be 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 Clan and Uesugi Clan—
Imagawa Yoshimoto's defeat and death at Okehazama would not be as simple as a disparity in military strength or tactical error.
It was the fundamental gap between 'having' and 'not having.'
Of course, he would not say these words out loud.
Because the expression of this Suruga Province lord before him was already ugly enough.
Currently, Hojo Ujiyasu had already been carried off by Takeda Clan, and he did not need to fall out with another Sengoku daimyo.
Although he wasn't afraid to, either.
Anyway, this person had no power that could restrain him... wait, no power that could restrain him?
Kanbe Hikaru felt a strange stirring in his heart.
Compared to the Hojo Clan, who were allied with Takeda Clan... the Imagawa Clan seemed, perhaps, more... suitable?
"So."
Imagawa Yoshimoto spoke up immediately, lowering her voice even further.
She raised her head, looking at that crimson oni mask.
Her petite, slender figure stood in the twilight, the skirt of her twelve-layered kimono trailing across the charred grass, and the golden butterfly ornament in her hair glimmered slightly under the last of the daylight.
There was no longer any ease in her eyes. Only seriousness.
"This is the reason I need you."
"Takeda Clan has Fudo Myo-o, and Uesugi Clan has Bishamonten."
"And I, the Imagawa Clan—"
She paused for a beat, then took a deep breath, suppressing her inner frustration, yet still added, through gritted teeth: "Have nothing."
The statement was frank. So frank that it was somewhat surprising.
For a daimyo to admit in front of an outsider that she had nothing—that required courage, and it also required sufficient clarity.
"But I have castles, soldiers, provisions, and the three most prosperous provinces of the Tokaido in the Kanto region."
Imagawa Yoshimoto took a step forward. Her petite frame only reached Kanbe Hikaru's chest, and as she looked up at him, the intensity in her eyes seemed no less than that of the Takeda Clan warrior who had swung the hammer just moments ago.
"What I lack is simply a blade—a blade capable of cutting through 'gods'."
She raised a slender finger and pointed at him. It was steady, without a hint of trembling.
"And you—are that blade, a 'god' capable of opposing gods."
Kanbe Hikaru looked at her. He fell silent for a moment. Yura of the Hair, in his arms, shuddered, seemingly wanting to comment, but he suppressed her with his demonic power.
"I want more concrete terms—benefits."
He spoke. It was quite direct and rude. But Imagawa Yoshimoto smiled. This was the sentence she had been waiting for.
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