Chapter 146: Consecrating You as a True Deity
The Ritsuryo system, an ancient framework of administrative divisions, had long carved the lands of Japan into provinces. In theory, each of the realm's sixty-plus provinces was overseen by a governor who managed its taxes, military levies, and judicial affairs. But by the dawn of the Sengoku Period, these governors were little more than ghosts of a bygone era, their authority usurped by ambitious daimyo who ruled by the sword. While they still nominally required the recognition of the Shogunate in Kyoto, it was the daimyo who held the true, unyielding power over the land.
Musashi Province, the heart of the Kanto region, was a sprawling territory measuring four hundred ri from east to west and one hundred sixty ri from north to south. Its sheer scale was staggering, dwarfing the geography Hikaru remembered from his previous life. The land itself seemed warped—regions that were once separate now shared borders, and paths that should have been impassable had become viable routes.
Its population was among the top three in Kanto. However, thanks to the pervasive threat of demons and the constant strife, the total number of inhabitants was likely far less than in Hikaru's original world, with people clustered together in fortified settlements for safety.
To its north lay Kozuke, to its south Sagami, to its west Kai, and to its east the provinces of Shimosa and Kazusa. It was a vital transportation hub, and consequently, a land perpetually soaked in the blood of war.
The Hojo Clan had poured generations of effort into seizing and holding this territory. And now, they were planning to simply hand it over to a demon?
Hikaru remained leaning against a wooden pillar, the Crimson Oni Mask a stark, demonic visage that concealed his own. Beneath it, his features—which had slowly regained a semblance of life after nine transformations—remained unreadable, his thoughts a silent current. Only his eyes, glowing with a faint, purple-ringed light, peered through the mask's slits, fixed on the woman before him—the famed Lion of Sagami.
He did not answer immediately. He was thinking.
The timing of Hojo Ujiyasu's visit was, in a word, perfect. And her offer, "granting Musashi Province," while sounding like a gesture of immense sincerity, became far more thought-provoking upon closer inspection.
"How much of your northern garrison did Uesugi's forces devour?" Hikaru asked, his voice cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
Although he had successfully unraveled the Uesugi Clan's diversionary tactics and annihilated three thousand of their troops, effectively tearing a hole in Kenshin's siege wall, the Hojo Clan had not escaped unscathed. It was only logical; if they had suffered no losses, how could those three thousand Uesugi soldiers have established a foothold in northern Musashi in the first place? They must have clashed with Hojo forces before Hikaru ever set foot in their camp.
And they must have won. Decisively.
The rhythmic tapping of Hojo Ujiyasu's fan against her knee ceased.
"Forty percent."
A muscle in her jaw twitched almost imperceptibly as she spoke the number, but her tone remained as steady as stone.
Forty percent. The main force the Hojo Clan had deployed to northern Musashi had been reduced by nearly half during Uesugi Kenshin's southern campaign. They had started with just under three thousand men; now, fewer than two thousand remained. With such a depleted force, they could no longer maintain their northern defensive line, not in the short term.
After all, they still had to watch Imagawa to the south and, more, guard against the ever-present threat of a backstab from Takeda, who, despite claiming to be an ally, watched them with the hungry eyes of a tiger.
In other words, Musashi Province was no longer a fortress; it was a liability. A poisoned chalice the Hojo Clan could no longer hold.
Keeping it was a burden. If Uesugi Kenshin recovered her strength and marched south again, Musashi would be the first territory she consumed, though that would likely take a long time. If Takeda Shingen suddenly turned on them, Musashi would be caught in a pincer.
Better to give it to someone who could hold it than to have it snatched away by an enemy. That way, at least in name, Musashi Province would still belong to the Hojo.
Compared to the other two great powers of Kanto, whose leaders were legendary generals backed by divine artifacts, Hojo Ujiyasu was in a truly unenviable position. Among the so-called "Dragon, Tiger, and Lion" of Kanto—the Dragon of Echigo, the Tiger of Kai, and the Lion of Sagami—she, the Lion, was by far the most aggrieved.
Yet, the fact that she could maintain a balance of power with a mortal body, unblessed by gods or buddhas, was proof of her exceptional capability. She was decisive and, more, a master of calculated trade-offs.
"So this isn't a reward," Hikaru's voice, muffled by the oni mask, was flat and devoid of emotion, yet it sliced through her pretense. "You're trying to offload a burden."
He straightened up, his presence filling the hall. "You can't hold Musashi, but you don't want it to fall into the hands of your rivals. So you're looking for someone to stand at the front and 'hold' it for you."
"Nominally, it remains Hojo territory. In reality, I guard it. I bear the weight."
"You sit safely in Odawara Castle, claiming Musashi is still under your rule, while conveniently shifting the pressure of Uesugi's next attack onto me."
Hikaru's logic was flawless. To a certain extent, he was simply calling her bluff.
The main hall fell into a tense silence that lasted for a single, drawn-out breath.
Then, with a sharp snap, Hojo Ujiyasu closed her fan and set it beside her knee. She didn't deny it. There was no flicker of shame, no hint of embarrassment. Her purple eyes, gleaming from beneath her long hair, stared directly at the Crimson Oni Mask. A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips—the frank, disarming smile of a player whose hand has been revealed.
"That is correct," she admitted generously. "I truly cannot hold Musashi, at least not for the foreseeable future. But this land is critically important to the Hojo Clan—it is the northern gateway to Sagami. If Musashi is lost, Sagami becomes the front line, forced to face pressure from two sides at once."
She shifted her posture, the hem of her deep purple kimono spreading like a pool of shadow on the wooden floor. Her hair cascaded over her chest, which rose and fell with a steady breath.
"But think about it. Isn't this a good thing for you?"
Her voice was laced with persuasive logic. "You are already based in Musashi Province. It's clear you're using this place as your foundation. The next time Uesugi Kenshin comes, you will have to fight her regardless of who holds the title to this land."
"The only difference is whether you face the combined armies of two provinces as an isolated demon stronghold, or whether you contend with them backed by the resources of an entire province."
"Food, supplies, manpower, intelligence—these are things you cannot procure on your own. But I can grant you the full measure of what an entire province can provide."
"This is a win-win."
Win-win. Imagawa Yoshimoto had used that exact term. Now, Hojo Ujiyasu was using it too. The daimyo of this era were far more pragmatic than he had ever imagined. When faced with a 'demon'—so long as it could communicate and there was a benefit to be had—they were willing to recruit it without a second thought.
Of course, demons like him were a rarity. Most lesser yokai were little more than mindless beasts, and the stronger ones rarely deigned to become allies or enemies of organized human forces.
If Kikyo weren't by his side, Hikaru would have no desire to meddle in the affairs of the human world. The potential benefits were completely overshadowed by the risks; it was like pulling chestnuts from a raging fire, one wrong move and he'd be consumed by the flames.
Fortunately, he had Kikyo, who could handle the pressure from human spiritualists. He also had the implicit backing of a Kanto daimyo, which could mitigate the response from national military forces.
Hikaru fell silent for a moment. He knew she was right. Kaede Village was situated in the heart of Musashi. Uesugi might not return anytime soon, but there were still forces in Kyoto to consider. If they decided to launch an attack, he couldn't run. He wouldn't run.
Rather than waiting to be passively beaten, it was better to arm himself with the resources of Musashi and prepare for battle.
Even so, he would not accept the province. It wasn't that he didn't want it, but that he couldn't take it.
A demon ruling a province—it wasn't unheard of. The Great Dog General of the Western Lands had once commanded an entire province from his seat of power. Even after his death, his domain had not fallen; his surviving widow and loyal followers remained a formidable force, one that human armies dared not confront. It was even said that entire demon nations existed in the Far East.
Closer to home, the former Demon King of Mount Oe, Shuten-doji, had once occupied Tamba Province near the capital, and the great demon Otakemaru had also been the lord of a province.
But those were true Great Yokai, existences at the very pinnacle of their kind, perhaps even bordering on the level of a Demon King. They commanded legions of other powerful demons.
He, on the other hand, had not even touched the threshold of becoming a Great Yokai.
If word got out that a demon had become the lord of Musashi, every exorcist, onmyoji, and militant temple in Kanto—and likely all of Japan—would turn their spears toward him. Not to mention the Onmyo Bureau in Kyoto; there were already whispers that they were considering an imperial decree for each province to purge its demons.
He didn't need that kind of attention. At least, not yet.
If his strength were sufficient, Hikaru wouldn't be opposed to offering his protection to the people of this era in a mutually beneficial arrangement. But he had no interest in governance, politics, or any of the associated burdens. This was an age where individual martial might reigned supreme. While the strength of a group could not be ignored, it was not the path he pursued.
Therefore.
"I do not want Musashi Province."
Hojo Ujiyasu's brow twitched.
"But," Hikaru continued, "you can give me something else."
He raised a single finger. "The same conditions I have with Imagawa. My Twenty-Three Demon Night Parade must be recognized within the Hojo Clan's sphere of influence. Within the two provinces of Musashi and Sagami, you will build shrines for them, create legends, and allow your subjects to worship them."
"Let my demons collect 'Fear' on your territory."
"In exchange, if Uesugi Kenshin moves south again, I will block her for you." He paused, a flicker of dry amusement in his mind. Was he getting something for nothing? "In any case, if she comes to attack Musashi, I have to fight her anyway. This is a win-win. There's no need for you to go so far as to enfeoff an entire province to me."
Hojo Ujiyasu picked up her fan again, idly flipping it over in her palm.
"You are indeed just as the rumors say," she mused, her assessment sharp and direct. "Even shrewder than that woman, Imagawa Yoshimoto."
The very conditions Imagawa had only agreed to after he had backed her into a corner, grinding her teeth in frustration, this demon was now proposing himself. And he only wanted the core benefits, discarding the empty titles that would only bring him trouble.
"You are nothing like those yokai who have nothing but slaughter on their minds," Hojo Ujiyasu sighed, a note of genuine admiration in her voice. "No wonder you were able to bring Uesugi Kenshin to her knees!"
She immediately composed her expression, her demeanor shifting back to that of a calculating ruler. "I agree to these conditions., I will add one more—a better one for you."
Hojo Ujiyasu rose to her feet, the deep purple fabric of her kimono sliding silently across the floor. She walked to the entrance of the main hall and turned, her silhouette framed against the morning light.
Enunciating every word with a force that made the air tremble, she declared, "This shrine in Kaede Village."
She pointed a slender finger toward the torii gate outside.
"I want it to become the official Shinto center for both Musashi and Sagami provinces."
The hall fell silent once more.
From behind the paper screens of a side room, the heads of Momiji and Botan poked out, their mouths hanging open in perfect 'O's of astonishment. On the pillar, Naoe Kanetsugu was no longer just wide-eyed; her jaw had dropped completely.
Hojo Ujiyasu continued, her voice ringing with authority. "Imagawa Yoshimoto built shrines and spread tales for you, a yokai, in Suruga. That was already a grand gesture. But I will go further."
"Not just building a shrine. Not just worshipping a minor spirit."
"I will formally submit a petition to the Shinto General Headquarters in Kyoto to elevate this shrine to the Shinto center of two provinces, and to enshrine you—Demon God Hikaru—as a True Deity."
"Not a folk legend or a strange tale. Not a guardian deity established under Imagawa Yoshimoto's personal authority. A True Deity, guaranteed by me—by the Hojo Clan—in the name of the provincial ruler, reported to the central authorities, and formally certified by the Shinto religion."
A True Deity.
In the Japanese belief system, a 'True Deity' was fundamentally different from a common land god, a mountain spirit, or a yokai from a local legend. A True Deity was recognized by state-level Shinto institutions, possessed an official divine title and shrine rank, and their temple enjoyed official worship and state-funded maintenance.
Becoming a True Deity meant that he would no longer be collecting just 'Fear'—but also 'Faith'.
Fear and Faith. Two sides of the same coin. Terror and reverence were both powerful manifestations of the human heart. For a yokai, fear was a source of power.
But faith… that was something even gods and buddhas drew upon for sustenance.
For a moment, even Hikaru was shaken.
This woman…
"You're insane," he stated, the words escaping before he could stop them.
"I am perfectly clear-headed." The corners of Hojo Ujiyasu's mouth curled upwards again. "Uesugi Kenshin has Bishamonten. Takeda Shingen has Fudo Myo-o. My Hojo Clan has no gods. But now, I can create one myself."
She snapped her fan shut and turned to leave the main hall.
"The documents will be sent to Kyoto after I return."
"As for whether you accept—"
She turned her head, casting a look back over her shoulder as her long hair fluttered in the breeze. "You have no reason to refuse, do you?"
Her footsteps descended the stone steps, gradually fading into the morning quiet.
Hikaru stood at the entrance of the hall, watching the deep purple figure pass through the torii gate and disappear down the mountain path at the edge of the village.
Kikyo walked to his side, the white and red of her robes a stark contrast to the shadows.
"A True Deity," she repeated softly, her dark, fathomless eyes fixed on him.
Hikaru didn't turn. His gaze fell upon the plaque on the torii gate—an old, weathered plank of wood, the writing upon it long since blurred and illegible.
This place had always been a nameless, wild shrine, home to no god.
But that was about to change.
"It seems this shrine..." he murmured, removing the Crimson Oni Mask to reveal his pale, handsome face.
"...needs a new plaque."
Just as Hojo Ujiyasu had said, for an arrangement so mutually beneficial, for a gesture of gratitude and recruitment so grand, he had no reason to refuse.
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