I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

”The snow woman killed them.”

For one second, Urakami did not react.

Then his face twisted.

”All of them?”

The commander lowered his head.

”Yes.”

Another explosion shook the field.

BADOOOM!!

Yukihime raised one hand.

A wave of ice erupted behind Urakami’s ranks, smashing through the soldiers positioned along the road. Men were thrown into the snow. Horses slipped and crashed into one another. Several wagons carrying shields and supplies froze solid before breaking apart beneath the pressure.

Urakami’s army began to panic.

The force inside Minami Kyoto was being driven back.

The army outside was being torn apart from behind.

And Yukihime stood in the middle of it all like winter itself had taken human form.

Hanzo saw the chaos spreading from the rooftops near the gate.

This was their chance.

She lifted her blade.

”Now!” she shouted. ”Push them out!”

Jiro heard her.

He raised his sword above his head.

”Minami Kyoto!” he roared.

His soldiers answered with everything left in their lungs.

”Minami Kyoto!”

The defenders charged.

Shinobi and soldiers moved together through the smoke and snow. Jiro’s men slammed their shields into the samurai’s disordered front line. Spearmen struck through the gaps. Shinobi attacked from the side streets, the roofs, and behind the enemy formation.

The red armored soldiers began stumbling backward.

They tried to hold their lines, but there were no lines left.

Their officers had fallen.

Their rear force was screaming beneath Yukihime’s snow.

Their path ahead was blocked by defenders who had stopped running.

Urakami’s confidence shattered.

”Retreat!” he shouted.

No one heard him at first.

He shouted again, louder.

”Retreat! Pull back from the city!”

The samurai began trying to obey.

But when they turned toward the rear, Yukihime was there.

Her spear cut through another group of soldiers, freezing the ground beneath their feet before they could escape. Men fell. Others tried to go around her, only to find the road blocked by shinobi traps and Minami Kyoto’s defenders pressing from the sides.

Urakami looked left.

Genzo’s shinobi appeared between the houses and along the walls, cutting down the soldiers trying to escape through the northern road.

He looked right.

Hanzo’s group had taken the southern street, closing it with ropes, overturned carts, and blades drawn from the shadows.

He looked forward.

Jiro’s soldiers pushed outward from the broken gate.

He looked behind him.

Yukihime stood amid the frozen bodies of his army.

Urakami was surrounded.

The man who had marched south with ten thousand soldiers, expecting to conquer Minami Kyoto, suddenly found himself trapped outside the city he had believed would belong to him.

His breathing quickened.

His eyes moved desperately across the chaos.

He could still escape.

He had to.

The army was breaking, but he was not dead. If he reached the northern road, he could return to the Akamine Clan. He could regroup. He could bring a larger army. He could explain that the city had been defended by monsters and traitors.

He turned his horse sharply.

”Make way!” he shouted.

His guards hesitated.

”My lord, the men—”

”Make way!”

They obeyed.

Urakami’s guards forced a narrow path through the panicked soldiers. Urakami drove his horse forward, kicking it hard through the snow as he abandoned the men who had followed him into the South.

Behind him, Yukihime’s spear flashed.

A group of guards trying to slow her down froze in place. One after another, they fell beneath ice and silver light.

Urakami did not look back.

He smiled.

He was getting away.

The sounds of battle became more distant behind him as his horse raced down the road, away from Minami Kyoto’s broken gate and the chaos swallowing his army.

Then something struck his chest.

Urakami’s body jerked.

His smile froze.

For a moment, he did not understand what had happened.

He lowered his gaze.

A snow spear had pierced through his chest.

The weapon had entered from behind, torn through armor, and emerged beneath his ribs. Blood began spreading across the red plates of his armor.

Urakami’s eyes widened.

His hands loosened around the reins.

The cold reached him next.

Frost spread across his chest.

Then his arms.

Then his face.

He tried to speak.

No words came out.

His body froze completely.

Urakami fell from his horse.

He struck the snow with a dull sound.

His vision blurred as he lay on the ground, unable to move. The battle around him became distant. The cries of his soldiers faded beneath the cold rushing through his body.

He forced his eyes toward Minami Kyoto.

People stood beyond the broken gate.

Shinobi.

Soldiers.

Civilians emerging carefully from hiding places.

At the center of them all stood Yukihime.

Her expression was cold.

Unmoved.

Urakami stared at her for one final moment.

Then the frost covered his eyes.

His body collapsed into the snow.

The leader of the Urakami Clan was dead.

For several seconds, the battlefield remained silent.

Then one of Urakami’s soldiers saw the frozen body.

”Lord Urakami is dead!”

The words spread through the army.

”Urakami is dead!”

The surviving samurai looked at one another.

Their commander was gone.

Their formations were destroyed.

The city had not surrendered.

The shinobi had emerged from every shadow, and the snow woman had torn their army apart.

Panic overtook them.

They dropped weapons.

They ran.

Some fled down the western road. Others threw themselves into the snow and begged to be spared. A few tried to continue fighting, but without command or hope, they were quickly overwhelmed.

Jiro stepped through the ruined gate and lifted his sword.

”It is over!” he shouted.

His voice echoed across the snow-covered field.

”It is over! Minami Kyoto stands!”

The defenders answered.

A roar rose from soldiers and shinobi alike.

”Minami Kyoto!”

The cry spread across the city.

People emerged from buildings and temples, staring at the red armored soldiers fleeing through the snow. Some wept. Others fell to their knees. Some simply held one another, unable to believe they had survived.

Hanzo stood near the gate, exhausted and bleeding.

Shigeru’s group stood besides tired but with wide smiles on their lips.

Genzo approached from the outer road, his blade lowered at last.

Jiro looked toward Hanzo.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then the captain sheathed his sword and bowed his head.

Not deeply.

Not as a subordinate.

But as one warrior acknowledging another.

Hanzo returned the gesture.

Above them, Yukihime stood with her silver spear in hand.

The snow drifted around her.

The people of Minami Kyoto looked up at the woman who had shattered the gate, destroyed Urakami’s forces, and killed the samurai leader when he tried to flee.

Then someone began cheering.

Others joined.

The sound grew.

”Yukihime!”

”Yukihime!”

”Yukihime!”

Her black eyes moved across the city.

Somehow her name had spread around the whole city, likely because of the Shinobis who knew the snow princess.

The cheering continued across Minami Kyoto.

Soldiers dropped to their knees in the snow, too exhausted to stand any longer. Shinobi lowered their weapons with trembling hands. Some embraced the people beside them, whether they had known them for years or only fought beside them for the first time that day.

The survivors had won.

Urakami was dead.

His army was scattering across the roads outside the city, throwing down weapons as they fled or surrendered. The red banners that had marched toward Minami Kyoto with such pride now lay torn and trampled beneath the snow.

Captain Jiro stood near the ruined gate, his sword lowered at his side.

”Minami Kyoto stands!” he shouted again.

The answer came louder than before.

”Minami Kyoto!”

”Minami Kyoto!”

”Yukihime!”

Hanzo stood amid the cheers, breathing heavily as snow settled over her bloodied clothes. Shigeru remained close by with Yuwa and Sana, their mercenary group battered and wounded after fighting their way through the city.

They had once been hired by Nathan to kill Mitsuhide.

Now they had stood beside the shinobi and Minami Kyoto’s soldiers to save the city from Urakami’s invasion. It was unreal for them.

Yamada let out a long breath and looked toward the frozen body of Urakami in the snow.

”I suppose that is one way to finish a job.”

Sana gave a tired laugh.

”I would prefer a job where the enemy does not bring ten thousand soldiers next time.”

Shigeru looked toward Hanzo.

”You did well.”

Hanzo gave him a faint smile.

”We all did.”

Jiro approached them, his face bloodied and exhausted.

For a moment, he looked at Hanzo, Genzo, Shigeru, Yuwa, Sana, and the shinobi standing behind them.

Then he bowed his head.

”The city owes all of you a debt.”

Hanzo shook her head.

”The city protected itself.”

Jiro looked across the snow-covered streets.

Perhaps he understood what she meant.

The soldiers of Minami Kyoto had fought beside people they had once called traitors. The shinobi had bled for civilians who had feared them. Mercenaries who owed the city nothing had taken up weapons and stood in the line.

The city had survived because its people chose to fight for it.

Not for Norihiro.

Not for a Daimyo.

For Minami Kyoto.

The cheering began again.

Then the ground trembled.

At first, it was small.

So slight that many people did not notice it. A few loose stones shifted near the ruined gate. Snow slid from a broken roof. One of the wounded horses raised its head and let out a frightened sound.

Then came another tremor.

Stronger.

The cheering began to fade.

People looked around uncertainly.

”What was that?” Yuwa asked.

No one answered.

A third tremor passed beneath the city.

The ground shook hard enough to make several soldiers stumble. Cracks appeared along parts of the already-damaged outer road. Farther away, birds fled from the trees beyond the walls in a dark scattering cloud.

Then heavy footsteps reached them.

The sound came from beyond the hills.

Another step.

The earth shook beneath everyone’s feet.

The cheers stopped completely.

A terrible silence settled over Minami Kyoto.

The sky began darkening.

Not because evening had come.

It was too early.

Dark clouds gathered over the southern hills, spreading unnaturally fast. The remaining sunlight disappeared behind them, and the snow-covered streets became gray and cold.

An eerie pressure moved through the air.

Soldiers who had faced Urakami’s army without retreating suddenly tightened their grips on their weapons. Civilians backed away from the ruined gate. Some covered their children’s ears, though no one understood why.

Fear prickled beneath their skin.

Not ordinary fear.

Something deeper.

The instinctive terror of living beings sensing that something impossible was approaching.

Hanzo’s face became pale.

Genzo slowly turned toward the distant hills.

Captain Jiro lifted his sword again, though the weapon suddenly looked far too small.

”What is that?” one soldier whispered.

Yukihime stood above the broken gate, her silver spear in hand.

Unlike the others, she did not look confused.

Her black eyes narrowed.

She was staring toward a point miles away from the city.

At first, there was nothing visible through the snow and dark clouds.

Then a huge shape appeared beyond the hills.

It moved slowly.

Each step sent another tremor through the ground.

The figure rose above the distant trees.

It was too tall.

Too dark.

Too wrong.

Long black hair moved around a pale monstrous face. Horns curved from its head. Four arms hung at its sides, each ending in claws large enough to tear through stone. Red chains glowed across its body as it walked toward Minami Kyoto.

The Kijin had come.