Chapter Eighteen: My Lord, We Could Possibly Proceed Thus and So

“Yes, it is entirely my incompetence that has caused Lord Hōjō Akitoshi to worry about the threat of the yokai.”

“To suffer disgrace is to die in service to my lord. Please rest assured, my lord, that when the yokai attack again, even if it costs Mitsuhide’s life—”

“I will surely bring back the yokai’s head and lay it upon your desk, my lord!”

Hearing Hōjō Akitoshi speak such words that showed he couldn’t even sleep soundly, Akechi Mitsuhide abruptly dropped to his knees.

Alongside him, all the samurai of the Hōjō army also knelt. In this era, words like those from Hōjō Akitoshi were the harshest reprimand any vassal could receive.

“Rise, rise.”

As soon as they knelt, Hōjō Akitoshi immediately stood up from his folding stool.

With a single long stride, he did not allow Mitsuhide to remain kneeling for even a second.

After helping this loyal retainer to his feet, he did not forget to show a humble and approachable demeanor, patiently assisting the other samurai to stand one by one.

Witnessing their lord’s conduct, everyone present could not hold back their emotions.

Displaying the exaggerated expressions so characteristic of this land, a wave of sobbing broke out. To those unaware, it almost seemed as if Lord Hōjō Akitoshi of the Hōjō army had passed away.

Watching his subordinates’ theatrical displays reminiscent of Japanese animation, Hōjō Akitoshi awkwardly twitched the corner of his mouth.

Though he had lived in this world for nineteen years, each time he encountered such expressive performances, he still found them somewhat unsettling. But as the saying goes, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

He could not sternly demand his vassals to behave otherwise.

So, Hōjō Akitoshi sat quietly on his stool, patiently waiting for his samurai to finish their crying and gradually regain composure.

Fortunately, these warriors, having long served under him, understood their lord’s nature.

Before long, except for a few especially sentimental ones, the sobbing quickly subsided.

“Enough crying? If you keep weeping day and night here, do you think you can cry all the yokai to death?”

Seeing his retainers regain their composure, Hōjō Akitoshi pinched some roasted soybeans between his fingers and spoke slowly.

“Yes, it is truly our incompetence.”

In unison, Akechi Mitsuhide and the samurai fell to their knees again.

“Is there no one who can solve my difficulties?”

This time, Hōjō Akitoshi did not soften his tone to appear approachable; instead, his commanding presence pressed down on those kneeling so heavily they struggled to breathe.

“My lord, are you thinking...?”

Looking around cautiously, Akechi Mitsuhide had a sudden insight into his lord’s deeper meaning behind his behavior.

“The Four Souls Jewel, and that young girl?”

The items demanded by the yokai when they seized Gōbi, and her performance in repelling them—all these signs couldn’t escape Mitsuhide’s keen eye. Well-informed and resourceful, he immediately voiced the suggestion that perfectly matched Hōjō Akitoshi’s intentions.

“Hm.”

Satisfied, Hōjō Akitoshi slowly nodded at his top-ranking retainer in the original history of the Oda clan, indicating that Mitsuhide’s words were indeed correct.

---

Seeing this, Akechi Mitsuhide was overjoyed, nearly unable to contain his excitement at having guessed his lord’s thoughts.

Lowering his head, he quickly set his mind to work.

The name “Four Souls Jewel” was no mystery to the widely learned and inquisitive Mitsuhide.

Though he had previously regarded it as little more than a wild legend, especially since Lord Hōjō Akitoshi himself showed little interest in such matters, so he had let the knowledge gather dust in a mental corner.

But now that it was needed, Mitsuhide was able to retrieve it instantly.

“Thus, thus, and so on and so forth.”

Rising from the ground, Mitsuhide leaned close to Hōjō Akitoshi’s ear and whispered softly.

“Hm.”

Though he already had a comprehensive plan in mind, seeing his subordinate so attuned to his thoughts, how could Hōjō Akitoshi refuse such goodwill?

Mitsuhide’s advice was thus temporarily put aside, and as the sun set and rose again, a new day began as usual.

---

“Where am I?”

After a night without dreams, Gōbi opened her eyes, feeling refreshed.

What lay above her head was a ceiling.

Oh no, it was the top of a tent, which fascinated this girl from the future.

The soft bed beneath her also surprised her, almost making her think she had returned to her home in future Tokyo.

Instinctively pressing down on the mattress of unknown material, Gōbi felt it was even more comfortable than the one in her bedroom.

“You’re awake?”

As if waiting just outside the tent, Akechi Mitsuhide lifted the flap as soon as she made a sound.

“Ah!”

Just waking from sleep, though in good spirits, Gōbi’s body reacted instinctively when she suddenly saw a man enter. She shouted loudly.

“Quiet!”

Her future-world instinctive reaction did not intimidate the battle-hardened Mitsuhide.

Showing no mercy, he drew his samurai sword and with a swift motion brought the blade’s tip to hover just inches from Gōbi’s nose.

“Uh.”

Instantly silenced, Gōbi’s eyes crossed in shock.

Swallowing hard, she stared intently at the gleaming blade shimmering coldly before her face.

“This is Lord Hōjō Akitoshi’s camp. Because of you, my lord spent the entire night outside with the foot soldiers.”

Wearing a displeased look, Mitsuhide showed no sign of pity, merely motioning for Gōbi to get off the bed and leave immediately.

“Ah?”

Surprised, Gōbi realized that Hōjō Akitoshi had actually given her his own tent?

---

This... this is incredibly kind!

However...

As she rose, Gōbi glanced at Mitsuhide suspiciously, as if to ask whether Lord Hōjō Akitoshi had no other tents in the entire camp.

“What do you understand?”

Mitsuhide’s eyes caught hers, immediately discerning her thoughts.

“My lord is not one to indulge in special treatment. In truth, if not for the advice of us retainers—”

“On the battlefield, given his character, he eats and sleeps alongside the common soldiers.”

“So having this one tent is already an extravagance in his eyes. There’s no way he would prepare another.”

“Last night I even wanted to offer up my own tent, but what did my lord say?”

“He said, ‘Mitsuhide, if I give up my tent, that’s my intention.’”

“‘But if my tent is gone and I occupy yours, wouldn’t that make all I’ve done seem insincere?’”

At this emotional point, Mitsuhide’s eyes reddened and a few tears fell before Gōbi’s very eyes.

“To treat soldiers as if they were one’s beloved children, to eat and sleep with them and care for their well-being...”

He murmured softly. Seeing Mitsuhide’s reaction and tears, Gōbi couldn’t help but think of the ancient Eastern general Wu Qi, as described in her history books.

“Where is Lord Hōjō Akitoshi?”

Her admiration for him, already high, now skyrocketed to nearly its peak.

Completely alert, Gōbi threw off her covers and intended to find Lord Hōjō Akitoshi in order to thank this perfect exemplar of an ancient daimyo in person.

“Wait.”

But Mitsuhide, with the blade flashing once more, blocked her path again.

Fixing his gaze on the puzzled girl, Mitsuhide asked coldly,

“What is the meaning of the Four Souls Jewel the yokai asked about last night? Why did the yokai attack you?”

“This...”

Gōbi’s expression grew uneasy; her eyes darted about as she hesitated over whether to reveal the truth.

“I have long told my lord, ‘I may have a clear heart like the bright moon, but alas, the bright moon shines upon the gutter.’”

“For someone like you, there is no need to treat you with such sincerity.”

With a cold snort, Mitsuhide’s voice brimmed with an ineffable disappointment—the regret of a lord betrayed by misplaced trust.

“No, no, Lord Hōjō Akitoshi is such a good person.”

Pressed by Mitsuhide’s words, Gōbi, still in a naïve state, could no longer remain silent.

Her lips parted, and she recounted most of the events in detail.