The bone forest stood dense and somber. The lightning on the scorched earth had long faded, leaving only the acrid smell in the air.
Shinji stood still, his crimson demon mask looking especially sinister in the twilight. He looked down at the Suruga lord in her twelve-layered kimono, her face full of expectation.
Imagawa Yoshimoto's earlier words had been nothing short of sincere. The tribute of the realm.
If he were an ordinary ronin or an ignorant wild demon, he might already be bowing low, eager to bare his heart to repay such a debt of recognition.
But Shinji was not. He knew full well that talk of "half the realm" was at present nothing but a picture painted on paper.
Though Imagawa Yoshimoto possessed the three wealthiest provinces of the Tōkaidō, and even if she couldn't fully control them all, her raw military strength still held an absolute advantage. The Takeda and Uesugi could not overwhelm her on a conventional battlefield, even with their female generals wielding 'divine artifact power.'
However, they could decapitate. They could strike with single soldiers, even capture the king.
And Imagawa Yoshimoto, lacking a 'divine artifact,' was utterly defenseless against this.
One could say her situation was even worse than he had imagined. She lacked that singular 'one'; all the 'zeros' behind it were meaningless.
And so, as she opened her mouth to repeat her offer:
"The 'realm' you just mentioned is far too distant."
Shinji's voice carried no emotion. "I don't care for such illusory things, and I don't need you to draw me pictures of pies."
Imagawa Yoshimoto's smile froze slightly.
"I won't hide my intentions. I'll speak plainly, I agree to become the guardian of your Suruga Imagawa, but on two conditions."
Shinji raised two fingers.
Hearing this, Imagawa Yoshimoto quickly adjusted her expression. She tilted her head slightly, and that folding fan painted with pines and cranes slipped from her sleeve, gently pressing against her chin.
Her eyes shimmered, her smile radiant, a forced act.
"Please speak, Lord Shinji, if it's within my power, even if you were to desire…"
"First."
Shinji cut off her meaningless tone, direct and crisp. "The Imagawa army, whether the two thousand before me now or the forces of your entire domain in the future, must unconditionally obey my command in any battle involving 'demons,' 'evil spirits,' or 'gods.'"
He had not forgotten the threat from the Echigo province north of Musashi, the exorcist army under Uesugi Kenshin. Those troops would surely return.
When they did, he would need a force like this to 'support' him.
"You want command of the military?" Imagawa Yoshimoto's eyes narrowed.
The coquettishness of moments ago retreated like the tide, replaced by the sharp shrewdness and vigilance of a daimyō who ruled over several provinces.
Sponsoring a demon god was one thing; handing over the hilt of one's sword was another. The former cost money; the latter could cost one's life.
"Not entirely," Shinji did not yield. "I only concern myself with wars against non-humans. How you fight against other human lords is none of my business, unless they also bring in non-human forces, like those so-called divine artifacts or warrior maidens wielding special powers."
"That, I can guarantee."
Imagawa Yoshimoto pursed her lips, weighing the options.
"Second." Shinji gave her no time to think. He gestured behind him, to the huddle of small demons shivering in the blood mist.
"Them."
"I want you to take them back to Suruga and settle them throughout your domain."
"And not just by tossing them onto some random mountaintop."
"I want you, in your official capacity, to build shrines for them. Fabricate legends. Let your people know they exist. Fear them. Worship them, whether as guardian spirits or as mischievous goblins."
"I want them to become the legitimate 'Hundred Demons' of Suruga."
At these words, Imagawa Yoshimoto was stunned.
Even the tanuki behind Shinji was dumbfounded, clutching its tattered flag, mouth agape wide enough to fit an egg.
They were just the lowest of lowly demons! Build shrines for them? Receive worship? They wouldn't have dared dream of such treatment before.
"Well…" Imagawa Yoshimoto's brow furrowed deeply, her delicate face showing difficulty. "The military command is one thing, but these… dirty creatures?"
She gave a disdainful glance at the one-eyed little monk holding his broken umbrella and the drooling kappa.
"Lord Shinji, are you serious? Things like this, so beneath notice, if they receive official recognition from the Imagawa, word would spread, and the other lords would laugh their heads off. If you insist on settling them, I could allocate a few barren mountains…"
"Then there's nothing to discuss."
Shinji withdrew his fingers.
No hesitation. No room for bargaining.
He turned. His grey robes billowed in the wind, like two spread wings, as if about to depart.
"Let's go," he said to the small demons behind him.
The blood mist swirled around him, instantly swallowing him and the twenty-three demons.
Imagawa Yoshimoto said nothing, only covering her face with her fan, her eyes darting.
One second… two seconds…
Shinji's steps did not falter.
He knew what she was thinking.
She was gambling.
Gambling that he wouldn't really leave. Gambling that he needed Imagawa's resources.
But she had misunderstood one thing.
Shinji did need allies, but they didn't have to be Imagawa.
Though Hōjō Ujiyasu had been captured, if he was willing to wait or simply go rescue her, the Hōjō were still a good option.
And Imagawa Yoshimoto?
She had no choice.
That red-haired woman from Takeda, with one swing of her hammer, had shattered Imagawa's pride and confidence.
Without a divine artifact, without a demon god, in this coming war where incarnations of gods and buddhas would dance, she was nothing but meat on the chopping block.
She knew this better than anyone.
Shinji was exploiting her fear. Her desperation.
This was a high-stakes negotiation.
It was also blatant manipulation.
One step, two steps, three steps.
Shinji's figure was already half-submerged in the thick fog.
Finally, Imagawa Yoshimoto's expression shifted. She stood still, gripping her folding fan, applying slight pressure.
She watched his retreating back.
She saw it. He really was leaving.
In her mind flashed the horrors of Takeda's Red Guard cavalry, the unstoppable edge of Uesugi Kenshin's 'Bi' banner as described by her scouts.
And herself, sitting in her ornate palanquin, as helpless as a clown.
Frustration.
Bitter frustration.
She, Imagawa Yoshimoto, was meant to go to Kyoto, to unite the realm!
How could she fall here?
"Wait—!" Imagawa Yoshimoto's voice finally rang out again, this time tinged with panic. "I… can agree to it."
Her voice wasn't loud.
But she seemed to shout those words with all her might.
All traces of her usual courtly elegance were gone.
Shinji's steps stopped.
He didn't turn around, only tilted his head slightly. The corner of his mouth visible beneath the demon mask curved upward, arrogant and smug, making Imagawa Yoshimoto grind her teeth.
"All of it?"
"All of it!" Imagawa Yoshimoto gritted her teeth. Her pretty face flushed red, but her words were firm, as if afraid she might regret it.
"Military command is yours. These… these little demons, I'll support them too. I accept all your conditions!"
The wind blew across the battlefield.
It lifted the elaborate hem of her twelve-layered kimono.
Shinji paused, then turned.
The blood mist cleared. He stood before her again.
He looked at the girl, shaking with anger.
The afternoon sun fell upon her. The layered collar bound her slender neck tightly. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. Under the luxurious fabric, her small body seemed to bear the weight of impending collapse.
Wretched. But real.
"Deal." Shinji's smile didn't change.
Manipulation successful.
Imagawa Yoshimoto let out a long breath, as if her spine had been pulled out. She swayed, nearly collapsing to the ground.
She glared fiercely at Shinji.
That look held both the fury of wanting to bite him and the relief of surviving a disaster.
"…Damn demon." she muttered under her breath, turning her back to him, unwilling to let him see her expression.
"Back to camp!" She shouted at the samurai and ashigaru around her, who were all dumbstruck.
"What are you staring at? Prepare to return to Suruga!"
"And prepare provisions for the four directions. Build 'shrines' throughout Suruga."
…
That night.
On a small hill near the battlefield.
Moonlight poured like water over the clearing atop the hill.
The twenty-three small demons knelt in a circle, prostrating themselves on the ground.
Shinji sat on a large bluestone in the center, having removed his demon mask, revealing his pale, handsome, and spirited face.
He held the dark purple venomous dragon reverse scale in his hand, but his gaze fell on the creatures before him.
They looked more spirited than before.
Perhaps because they knew they had a place, a patron, and even a 'status' they had never dared dream of.
The tanuki, the leader, knelt at the front, clutching the tattered flag in its paws, its head on the ground, its rear end raised high, its tail wagging excitedly.
"My lord… no, my liege!" The tanuki's voice trembled with an almost worshipful fervor.
"You truly… truly mean to make us those humans'… gods?"
"Not gods. You won't receive true faith," Shinji corrected. His voice was clear in the night. "You will receive only 'fear', both reverence and terror."
He stood and walked to the tanuki.
"I've found you a place. I've given you an identity. The Imagawa will promote you. Humans will fear and worship you because of the legends."
"That 'fear' will become your source of power."
"You will grow stronger."
"But this is not free."
His gaze swept over every demon present.
The one-eyed little monk, the fox-eared girl, the giant rat with the broken leg… their eyes, full of fear and devotion.
"In exchange, your lives are mine."
"Your eyes will see the world for me. Your ears will hear the whispers of the world for me."
"When I tell you to kill, even if the target is your own worshipper, you must not hesitate."
"Understand?"
"Yes!" The twenty-three demons answered in unison.
Not loud, even a little ragged, but in the silent forest, they carried a newfound, unprecedented resolve.
They were once the dregs abandoned by the world, the bottom rung of this era, the weak.
Shinji had given them a way to live, and dignity they had never imagined.
For that, giving everything was only natural.
As they pledged themselves,
Shinji felt a strange aura.
Rising from these twenty-three little demons, it was a faint, pale-grey demonic aura.
Very weak.
Like a candle flame about to be extinguished in the wind.
But together, they formed a small stream, flowing slowly but steadily toward Shinji.
Melting into his body.
Shinji closed his eyes, feeling that new power.
Though still weak, this power was different in nature from any he had known before.
It seemed to be the 'core' of the force field formed by these twenty-three little demons.
Like a certain status.
One who commands.
From today,
He was no longer a lone ghost.
He was....
The true master of the Twenty-Three Demons' Night Parade.
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Read advance chapters on [email protected]/Lost_moon