I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Chapter 805: Norihiro goes to war

The false letter was delivered before sunrise.

It was not placed openly in the path of Norihiro’s scouts. That would have been too obvious. A soldier finding a perfectly convenient message in the middle of an empty road would question it, especially now that Norihiro’s men were already looking for traps.

Instead, the shinobi allowed it to be discovered through an argument.

Near a small village west of Minami Kyoto, two men dressed as traders were heard fighting behind a storage house. Their voices carried through the thin wooden walls, sharp enough to draw attention but low enough that the words were difficult to make out.

A few phrases slipped through.

“Urakami’s order.”

“You were told to burn it.”

“If Norihiro finds out before the army arrives, we are dead.”

The two men had not noticed the figure crouched behind stacked barrels nearby.

Or at least, they pretended not to.

The watcher was one of Norihiro’s scouts.

He had followed them since they entered the village, suspicious of the way they moved and the way they kept looking over their shoulders. When the men finally left the storage house in a hurry, one of them dropped a folded paper in the dirt without realizing it.

The scout waited until they were gone.

Then he moved from the shadows, took the letter, and opened it with trembling fingers.

The writing was hurried but clear.

It appeared to be an order from one of Urakami’s officers to a captain leading the advance force.

The message stated that Urakami’s men were to remain near the western ridge for two more days. Their job was not to take Minami Kyoto yet, but to keep Norihiro’s attention fixed on them until the larger army arrived from the north.

Once the full force had gathered, they would surround the city.

No one would be allowed to escape.

The scout read the letter twice.

Then a third time.

His face grew pale.

He did not know whether the message was real. He did not know whether he had found something important or walked into a trap. But he knew one thing.

Norihiro would want to see it.

Within minutes, he was riding east as fast as his horse could carry him.

Behind him, the two supposed traders disappeared into the trees.

Neither of them was a merchant.

Neither of them had ever served Urakami.

And by the time the sun rose above the road, the message was already moving toward Minami Kyoto.

Norihiro was in the war room when the scout arrived.

The chamber had changed over the last day.

Maps covered the central table. Oil lamps burned along the walls despite the morning light, giving the room a warm glow that did little to soften the unease resting over everyone inside. Commanders stood in small groups, speaking in quiet voices. Servants carried more reports in and out. Every few minutes, another messenger appeared at the door with news from the roads.

Norihiro had not slept.

He had spent much of the night studying the reports from Kajiya Hara, comparing the numbers given by his scouts and trying to decide how much truth lay beneath the contradictions.

Two thousand men.

Four thousand.

Perhaps more.

Weapons moving through the western towns.

Red armor near the ridge.

Sadamasa’s forge working day and night.

The information was incomplete, but its meaning was not.

Urakami was preparing something.

The question was whether he intended to attack immediately or wait until his full army gathered.

When the scout was brought before him, covered in dust and barely able to catch his breath, Norihiro knew before the man even spoke that something had changed.

“My lord,” the scout said, dropping to one knee. “I found this near the western road.”

He held out the folded letter.

Kazuma stepped forward and took it first, but Norihiro reached out his hand.

“Give it to me.”

The adviser obeyed.

Norihiro opened the letter.

The room went quiet as he read.

His expression did not shift at first.

Then his eyes narrowed.

Captain Jiro stood near the table, watching him closely.

“What is it, my lord?”

Norihiro handed the letter to Kazuma without answering.

Kazuma read it, and the calm mask on his face slipped for the smallest moment.

“They intend to wait,” he said.

“They intend to surround us,” Norihiro replied.

Jiro stepped forward and took the message from Kazuma.

His face darkened as he read the words.

“So the reports were true,” he muttered. “Urakami’s advance force is bait.”

Norihiro turned toward the map of the western road.

The letter said the larger army would arrive in two days.

Perhaps it was true.

Perhaps it was not.

But Urakami’s movement was real. The weapons were real. Sadamasa’s betrayal was real.

Norihiro could not afford to sit behind his walls and wait for ten thousand men to surround Minami Kyoto.

Not when he had a chance to strike first.

“Three thousand men will move by midday,” he said.

Kazuma looked up. “My lord?”

“We march west.”

Jiro’s expression sharpened. “You intend to attack Urakami’s advance force.”

“I intend to destroy it before his larger army can reach it.”

Kazuma hesitated.

“My lord, if this letter was left for us to find, then it may be false.”

Norihiro looked toward him.

“Of course it may be false.”

“Then perhaps that is exactly what someone wants us to do.”

For a moment, Norihiro said nothing.

The thought had crossed his mind already.

Ryo.

The black ronin was somewhere in the South. Norihiro could feel it. The deaths of Yorimasa, Morosuke, and Mitsuhide had not been random. The shinobi had become more active. Reports from the forest had grown strange. People in nearby towns spoke of a changing wind, of hidden forces moving through the roads.

Someone was shaping events.

But knowing that a trap existed did not mean Norihiro could avoid it.

If he remained inside Minami Kyoto and Urakami’s army truly arrived in two days, he would be trapped behind his walls. The samurai would claim he lacked courage. His own soldiers would begin doubting him. The people would panic as food stores ran low and roads were cut off.

No.

He would not wait.

Not while he could still seize the initiative.

Norihiro looked toward Captain Jiro.

“Prepare the soldiers.”

Jiro bowed deeply. “At once.”

“Kazuma,” Norihiro continued, “you remain in the city. Double the guard at the gates. No one enters the castle district without being searched. I want every road watched. If there are shinobi hiding inside Minami Kyoto, find them.”

Kazuma bowed.

“And if Urakami does not move as expected?” he asked.

Norihiro’s face became cold.

“Then I will return with his head before the larger army arrives.”

The orders spread quickly.

By noon, Minami Kyoto would see its Daimyo ride west with three thousand soldiers.

And the people would know that war had finally come.

Hanzo watched the army leave from the upper floor of an abandoned storehouse.

The building stood near the western edge of the city, its windows covered by old wooden shutters. Through a narrow opening between them, she could see the road leading toward the gate.

Soldiers moved in long lines beneath Norihiro’s banners.

Armor flashed under the morning sun. Spears rose above the crowd like a forest of sharpened branches. Horses stamped and snorted as mounted officers rode beside the marching men. The sound of boots striking packed earth rolled through the street in a steady rhythm that seemed to shake the buildings around it.

Three thousand soldiers.

Perhaps more.

Hanzo had never seen so many armed men gathered in one place.

Even after all her training, she felt the weight of it in her chest.

This was no longer a hidden conflict fought through shadows and quiet assassinations. This was war. Open war. The kind that swallowed towns, broke families apart, and left bodies scattered across fields that had once fed ordinary people.

Beside her, a shinobi named Daichi watched through another gap in the shutters.

“He took the bait,” he whispered.

Hanzo did not answer at once.

Below, Norihiro appeared on horseback.

He wore dark armor with silver details across the chest and shoulders. His banner moved behind him in the wind, carrying the symbol that had ruled Minami Kyoto for years. He looked calm from this distance. Commanding. Certain.

The people lining the road watched him pass in silence.

Some bowed their heads.

Others looked frightened.

A few women clutched their children close as the army moved toward the gate.

Hanzo wondered what they were thinking.

Did they believe Norihiro was leaving to protect them?

Did they believe he would return victorious?

Or had the rumors already done their work? Had they begun to wonder why samurai from the north were coming toward their city? Had they started asking why Sadamasa’s weapons had been placed in foreign hands?

The thought gave her little comfort.

No matter what happened next, these people would suffer for the ambitions of men they had never met.

Hanzo’s hand tightened around the small knife hidden inside her sleeve.

“We need to send word,” Daichi said.

Hanzo nodded.

“Tell Genzo that Norihiro has left the city with his main force. Tell Ryo as well.”

Daichi turned to go, but Hanzo caught his sleeve.

“Wait.”

He looked back.

“Send a second message to the shinobi inside the city. They need to begin preparing the gates.”

Daichi’s expression became serious.

“If Norihiro dies, his officers may panic.”

“They will,” Hanzo replied. “And Urakami will try to use that panic.”

She looked through the gap one last time as the final ranks of Norihiro’s army passed through the western gate.

“We cannot let Minami Kyoto fall before we even reach the battlefield.”

Daichi nodded and vanished down the stairs.

Hanzo remained in the dark room alone.

She watched until the gate closed behind Norihiro’s army.

Then she finally allowed herself to breathe.

The first half of Nathan’s plan had succeeded.

Now they needed Urakami to make his move.

Urakami received his report just before evening.

He was sitting beneath his command tent, drinking sake from a small cup while two officers discussed the condition of the newly delivered armor. More weapons from Kajiya Hara had arrived that morning. Good steel. Well balanced swords. Strong spearheads. Armor plates that looked capable of turning aside most ordinary blades.

Urakami had begun to enjoy himself.

Everything was unfolding as it should.

Sadamasa was supplying him.

The Akamine Clan would be pleased.

Norihiro was hiding behind Minami Kyoto’s walls.

Soon, the South would belong to those strong enough to take it.

Then one of his scouts rushed into the tent.

“Urakami-sama.”

The scout dropped to one knee, breathing hard.

Urakami looked at him with mild irritation.

“If you are going to burst into my tent like that, your news had better be worth it.”

“It is, my lord.”

The scout lifted his head.

“Norihiro has sent men west.”

Urakami’s faint smile remained.

“How many?”

“Several hundred, perhaps more. They are moving along the western road, but Norihiro himself has not left Minami Kyoto.”

Urakami’s officers exchanged looks.

One of them stepped forward.

“He is testing us.”

Another shook his head. “Or he is trying to slow our advance.”

Urakami set down his cup.

“So the Daimyo finally found enough courage to send his dogs beyond the walls.”

The scout hesitated.

“There are also reports from the eastern villages. They say the people are afraid. Some believe Norihiro is preparing to abandon Minami-Kyoto if the samurai come too close.”

Urakami laughed.

“Abandon it?”

“That is what they say, my lord.”

Urakami rose from his seat.

His men fell silent.

He walked to the open edge of the tent and looked toward the east, where the road disappeared over the low hills.

Norihiro was afraid.

That was what the reports said.

Of course he was.

A Daimyo like him had grown comfortable behind walls and loyal men. He had never faced a true samurai army. He had never faced Urakami.

The thought that Norihiro might be marching toward him did not enter his mind.

Not yet.

“Gather the advance force,” Urakami ordered.

One of the officers looked surprised.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“But the larger army has not arrived.”

“It does not need to.”

Urakami’s smile returned.

“If Norihiro is frightened enough to send men west while he hides in his city, then I will show him what fear truly is.”

He looked toward the scout.

“Send riders north. Tell the larger force to continue moving, but not too quickly. I want them close enough to arrive if needed.”

Then he turned to his officers.

“We march at dawn.”

The red armored men bowed.

Outside, horns began sounding across the camp.

Soldiers emerged from tents. Horses were prepared. Weapons were lifted from racks. Fires were put out. Men who had spent the day waiting now began readying themselves for battle.

Urakami stood in the center of it all, watching his army move.

He saw strength.

He saw victory.

He saw Minami Kyoto opening its gates before him.

He did not see the darkness gathering around the road ahead.

°°°°

Nathan received Hanzo’s report after nightfall.

He was inside the abandoned house with Yukihime, seated beside the map while a lantern burned between them. The messenger had ridden without pause from the city and arrived exhausted, his cloak wet with sweat and dust.

Nathan listened closely as he spoke.

“Norihiro has left Minami Kyoto with three thousand men,” the messenger said. “Hanzo confirms he is moving west. The gates have been reinforced behind him, but the city is still unsettled.”

Nathan looked down at the map.

The first marker moved.

Norihiro was on the road.

Yukihime stood beside him, her eyes brightening with a dangerous calm.

“And Urakami?”

“Not yet confirmed,” the messenger replied. “But our people near his camp say his scouts received reports that Norihiro remains in the city.”

Nathan gave a small nod.

“Then he will move.”

The messenger looked uncertain.

“What should we do now?”

Nathan stood.

“Send word to Genzo. The shinobi near the battlefield begin moving civilians away from the western road. Quietly. No panic.”

“And the people inside Minami Kyoto?”

“Tell them to wait. They do nothing until we know Norihiro is dead.”

The messenger bowed.

“Yes, Ryo-sama.”

Once he left, Nathan stepped outside.

The night air was cold against his face.

Above him, clouds covered most of the stars. The fields beyond the abandoned house were dark and still, but far in the distance, faint lights moved along the road.

Torches.

Norihiro’s army.

Yukihime came outside behind him.

“He is close,” she said.

Nathan’s hand settled over the hilt of Kyomei.

“Yes.”

“Will we leave now?”

“Soon.”

Nathan looked toward the road.

For days, he had pushed men through fear, pride, and ambition. He had planted rumors in the right places and allowed powerful people to make the choices he wanted.

Now the trap was closing.

Norihiro marched west believing he was striking first.

Urakami would march east believing he was chasing a frightened enemy.

Soon, they would meet on the open road between Minami Kyoto and Kajiya Hara.

And when their armies began tearing each other apart, Nathan would step into the center of the chaos.