Chapter 129: Enemy Cultivator, I'll Strip Her Clothes
The panic lasted for less than ten breaths.
In that brief window of chaos, Kobe Hikaru hadn't even found an opportunity to strike. A clear, commanding voice had already rung out from the main tent at the heart of the camp, cutting through the terrified screams.
"The entire army, hear my command—form ranks!"
The voice wasn't a thunderous roar, yet it possessed a piercing quality that sliced through the pandemonium like a bucket of ice water, abruptly halting the spread of fear.
"Demons exist to bewilder the mind, but we are warriors under the banner of Bishamonten! Why should we fear mere lost souls?"
"Archers, advance! Relight the bonfires!"
"Sacred Treasures of the Four Directions, return to your posts and guard your formations!"
The orders came one after another, each one brief and forceful. The turmoil in the camp subsided at a rate visible to the naked eye.
Though the ashigaru still trembled, the ingrained instincts of their training took over. They gripped the shafts of their spears and scrambled toward their designated positions in the formation. The bonfires roared back to life, the spreading flames pushing back a corner of the oppressive blood mist. Rows of archers lined up, drawing their bowstrings and nocking arrows, their heads aimed toward the low hill to the south.
Even more eye-catching, however, were the bursts of divine power.
To the east of the camp, a brilliant golden light erupted. A Princess Warrior wielding a naginata stepped forward, her blade sweeping out in a devastating arc. The golden crescent of light sliced through more than a dozen skeletons that had breached the camp's edge, cutting them clean in half at the waist. The skeletal frames shattered, their ghostly phosphorus fires winking out of existence.
To the west, two slightly dimmer golden lights flared. Two young Princess Warriors stood side-by-side, one holding a bow and the other a shield. Golden light seeped from their weapons, a radiant barrier that forced the encroaching undead to recoil several yards.
The aura to the north also surged to life. An armored Princess Warrior stood guard on the ridgeline, her tachi held horizontally before her. A protective golden light enveloped her body; the skeletons climbing the northern slope shattered on their own the moment they touched its shimmering edge.
Four directions, four sources of sacred power. Together, they formed a holy aegis that completely enveloped the camp.
From his vantage point on the low hill, Hikaru took it all in.
'Quick reaction time,' he noted.
From total chaos to restored order, it had taken less than ten seconds. There weren't many armies in the entire Kanto region capable of such a feat when faced with a sudden undead raid.
, those four Sacred Treasures… while their individual divine power wasn't as concentrated as Kakizaki Kageie's, the complete coverage they provided had effectively turned the entire camp into an impenetrable fortress. The skeletal soldiers had almost no resistance against their power, crumbling upon the slightest contact.
His fabricated 'Night Parade of One Hundred Demons' was utterly suppressed by raw, holy power. Most of the undead even collapsed on their own before being touched, and the Yao Qi he had gathered dissipated as soon as the army's momentum began to coalesce once more. His own projected skeletal form, a mere extension of his will, was even less capable of withstanding it.
By that logic, his long-range attacks were also unlikely to be effective against the bulwark of this army's unified spirit. He couldn't strike from the outside; the shell of this military momentum was clearly harder than its interior.
But it didn't matter.
This wasn't what he had wanted.
All he had needed was that initial moment of chaos—the brief crack in the army's formation and spiritual pressure that any force would experience when ambushed by the undead for the first time. That, and a chance to see the enemy's true strength amidst the confusion.
Hikaru's gaze pierced through the swirling blood mist and flickering firelight, landing on the figure standing before the main tent in the center of the camp.
Someone was standing there. The orders had come from her.
That wasn't Uesugi Kenshin; the avatar of a war god should still be on her way back. This was a young woman—or rather, a girl. She was so petite and slender that she looked as if she had no place on a battlefield.
She wore deep blue light armor with a white jinbaori draped over her breastplate. On her head sat a horned helmet, its crest an complex design combining the characters for 'Bi'and'Ai'. Long, deep purple hair fell over her shoulders, spilling out from beneath the helmet. A few stray strands, caught in the gaps of the helm, fluttered against her forehead in the night wind.
Her features were delicate and sharp, not stunningly beautiful but radiating an extreme competence. Her brow held a steadiness that far surpassed her apparent age.
She carried no weapon. In her hand, she held a gunbai—an iron war fan used for command, its surface emblazoned with a large 'Bi' character.
And on her person, there was no trace of a Sacred Treasure's power. Not even a whisper. She was a pure human.
Yet the three thousand soldiers and the four Sacred Treasures of the entire camp obeyed her every command. The Princess Warriors, avatars of divine artifacts, addressed her with deference.
"Lady Naoe! The east is clear; no powerful demons have been found!"
"Lady Naoe! The west is the same; the undead were pathetic!"
Naoe Kanetsugu.
Uesugi Kenshin's chief general. She was no avatar of a Sacred Treasure, yet she commanded all of them. In the annals of history, Naoe Kanetsugu was famed for using the character for 'Love'(愛, Ai) as her banner. She was the true manager of the Uesugi clan's military affairs and would even be hailed as the'World's Number One Retainer' in the era after Kenshin's passing.
She possessed no extraordinary power, no protection from gods or buddhas. She relied solely on her ability and her loyalty.
And it was just such a person who, in less time than it takes to drink a cup of tea, had stabilized three thousand men ambushed by a legion of the undead.
'The core of this army isn't the four Sacred Treasures,'Hikaru concluded.'It's her.'
The undead raid had already served its purpose: create chaos, test the defenses, and confirm the location of the enemy's command center.
The rest of his skeletal army was no longer needed.
Hikaru withdrew the blood mist, simultaneously retracting his projected bones. The remaining undead, their demonic power source severed, collapsed to the ground one after another, reverting to inert piles of dry bone. The phosphorus fires died, and the red mist dissipated.
Only he remained on the low hill.
But the fear he had sown in the hearts of the soldiers would not vanish so quickly. The cracks in their military momentum and formation would not mend so easily.
Especially since he hadn't left.
That demon on the high ground, a king of a hundred ghouls behind a Shura-like Crimson Oni Mask, was still there.
Then, Hikaru moved.
Since long-range attacks were ineffective, he would go for close combat.
Since the exterior was impenetrable, he would go straight for the central command tent.
With the purest burst of [Thunder Muscle Transformation], he launched into the purest sprint.
Purple arcs of lightning exploded beneath his feet. The very soil of the hill was crushed by his explosive kick, and his entire being transformed into a streak of violet light, shooting directly toward the camp's front entrance.
The archers fired the instant he charged. Over a hundred arrows formed a black wall against the night sky.
But every single arrow missed its mark.
The lingering terror from the undead night parade still coursed through their veins. Their heartbeats were erratic, their breathing unstable; naturally, their aim was thrown off. This was the aftereffect of 'Awe'. Fear does not recede the moment a threat vanishes; it remains in the body like a toxin, clouding judgment and dulling reactions.
also, what Hikaru was now wielding wasn't just the fear he had just created.
It was also something from much farther away.
Imagawa territory.
The twenty-three minor yokai he had settled across Suruga Province were receiving official offerings from the Imagawa Clan. The 'Awe' they gathered flowed into Hikaru's body through the core of their collective psychic field.
Though the stream was faint, at the instant he actively released it, that 'Awe' stacked upon the fear caused by his undead parade, forming an invisible field of oppression.
Human devotion can condense into faith.
Awe can likewise condense into pressure.
The two forces clashed.
The spiritual 'momentum' of three thousand men, already torn open, was ripped wider by his charge.
This was something an ordinary yokai could never hope to achieve. Any other yokai—low-level or high-level—would have only one instinctive reaction when facing the faith-condensed momentum of three thousand people: to flee. Just like the Seventh Transformation mountain demon he had encountered before, they would rather take a long detour than approach. It was an instinct carved into their very bloodlines. Yao Qi and the momentum of faith were naturally repellent; the stronger the yokai, the more sensitive they were to this repulsion.
Thus, while the camp of three thousand had no physical barrier, it never needed to guard against yokai intrusion—because no yokai would ever be stupid enough to charge in.
The Uesugi army had never encountered a situation like this. They had never faced a yokai who, in the face of the faith-momentum of three thousand men, didn't run but instead actively charged into it.
They didn't know how to respond.
Their defensive lines faced outward, their formations were designed for external threats, and all their training was predicated on the assumption that 'the enemy comes from the outside'.
When the enemy was already inside—the formation became a mere decoration.
It wasn't that the soldiers weren't strong, or that the army wasn't elite. It was that they had never conceived of needing to guard against a yokai rushing in.
Because it was supposed to be impossible.
But it happened.
Naoe Kanetsugu's expression was grim. She could feel it. The invisible barrier above the camp, formed by the faith and military aura of three thousand men, was trembling violently in the direction of that charging purple lightning.
"Stop him!" she commanded, waving her war fan.
The naginata-wielding Princess Warrior from the east moved first. Golden light enveloped her weapon as she moved to intercept Hikaru's path from the side.
The blade light arrived.
But the man was already gone.
The moment Hikaru's figure touched the edge of the golden light, he swerved sharply to the right. [Phantom Step] activated, leaving a shimmering afterimage as his true body flashed between the narrow gaps of the tents.
He was inside the camp.
Tents were packed tightly together, the paths between them narrow. For a Princess Warrior who swung a large-range weapon like a naginata, this was the worst possible battlefield.
But for Hikaru, it was the best.
Bone spikes protruded from his elbows and knees, parrying and striking left and right in the constricted passages. The Muramasa flipped in his hand, its blade flashing again and again.
He wasn't killing.
He didn't have the time, nor the luxury, to deliberately take lives. He simply used the back of his blade and the flat of his bone spikes to send the ashigaru blocking his path flying, knocking them aside or sweeping them to the ground. He only inflicted injuries and disabilities; the wails left in his wake would only sow more chaos.
Thunder crackled across the surface of his body. Any samurai who tried to get close would feel their entire body go numb the moment they touched the electric arcs, their weapons clattering from their grasp.
He did not kill intentionally.
But he was more terrifying than a killer.
He moved through the camp of three thousand as if it were empty, tearing the rift in their military aura wider and wider with every step.
The two Princess Warriors from the west gave chase. One's golden arrow pierced through two tents, pinning itself to the ground where he had stood a moment before. The other's golden shield transformed into a wall of light, attempting to block his path forward.
Hikaru didn't slow down.
[Bone Soul Transformation].
White bone spikes erupted from the knuckles of his fist, forming a sharp, conical point.
He slammed his fist into the wall of light.
The light wall shattered.
The physical impact, combined with the resonant vibration of his lightning, created a double-strike that caused the thin barrier to collapse instantly from within.
The shield-bearing Princess Warrior stumbled back in horror.
But Hikaru ignored her.
From beginning to end, he had only one target.
Naoe Kanetsugu.
The woman who possessed no divine power, yet was the very soul of this army.
In front of the main tent, Naoe Kanetsugu held her command fan and stood her ground. She didn't run. With a great battle looming, the commander could not afford to run. If she ran, these three thousand men would truly scatter.
"Northern Formation! Intercept!" she issued her final command.
The Princess Warrior on the northern ridge responded. Her tachi, trailing golden flames, slashed down from above.
Hikaru raised the Muramasa, parrying with a backhand block.
CLANG!
The sound of clashing metal echoed over the camp. The searing sensation of divine power traveled through the blade once more, burning his palm.
He remained expressionless, ignoring it completely.
He simply extended his left hand from his waist.
And then.
BOOM.
The warrior reeled back. She was blasted away by a single palm strike, sent flying through the air as she sprayed a mouthful of crimson blood.
Severely wounded in an instant.
The power of the [Soul-Chasing Archer]; if it strikes, it hits, and if it hits, it must wound. With the power of Six Transformations coursing through him, the current Hikaru was truly capable of breaking through a thousand-man army. An ordinary Seventh or even Eighth Transformation Yokai might not be his match.
And just like that, though the army surged around him, the center was suddenly hollow.
His five fingers spread, gripping Naoe Kanetsugu's shoulder.
Her body froze.
She looked down at the pale hand, purple electric arcs dancing across its surface, clamped tightly onto her shoulder armor. Then she looked up, meeting the blood-red eyes glowing from beneath the Crimson Oni Mask.
"Don't move," Hikaru's voice came from behind the mask, neither heavy nor light. "If you move, I'll shock you."
The corner of Naoe Kanetsugu's mouth twitched.
But she did not move. The electric arcs flickering on that hand had already begun to numb her shoulder.
The Princess Warriors from all four directions, all wounded, gathered around the main tent. Their combined golden light illuminated the area as if it were day. But though they could still fight, not one of them dared to make a move.
Because their general was in the hands of a Yokai.
Hikaru held Naoe Kanetsugu and slowly backed up two steps. With his back against a wooden pillar of the main tent, he faced the divine artifacts and hundreds of samurai surrounding him.
"Everyone, back off." His tone was casual, so casual it didn't sound like he was holding a hostage.
But he was.
"I have words for your lord, Uesugi Kenshin."
"Until she arrives—no one comes any closer."
Take a hostage, suppress the army, and turn a threat into use to coerce Uesugi Kenshin herself.
This, too, was his purpose for this trip. He didn't believe for a second that Uesugi Kenshin could ignore the life or death of her most vital general.
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