I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Chapter 806: The Battlefield Chosen

The night did not belong to silence anymore.

It belonged to marching feet.

From the hill above the western road, Nathan watched Norihiro’s army advance beneath a long line of torchlight. The soldiers moved through the darkness in disciplined ranks, their armor reflecting faint orange flashes whenever the flames shifted in the wind. Spears rose above them in countless dark points. Horses carried officers along the sides of the column, while supply carts groaned under the weight of food, arrows, and medical equipment.

Three thousand men.

Perhaps slightly fewer after the guards Norihiro had left behind in Minami Kyoto.

But still enough to turn the road into a river of iron.

Nathan stood hidden among the trees with Yukihime beside him. They had climbed the hill before midnight, choosing a position that gave them a clear view of the road without exposing themselves to Norihiro’s scouts.

Below, Norihiro himself rode near the front.

Even from that distance, Nathan could recognize him.

The Daimyo wore dark armor that seemed almost black beneath the night sky, with silver plates along his shoulders and chest. His horse was tall and well bred, its movements steady despite the uneven ground. Around him rode members of his inner guard, men chosen not only for their skill but for their loyalty.

They stayed close.

Too close.

Nathan’s eyes narrowed.

Norihiro had not left Minami Kyoto unprepared.

He expected danger.

Perhaps he had suspected the samurai.

Perhaps he suspected the shinobi.

Or perhaps he was waiting for Nathan himself.

The thought did not sit well with him.

Yukihime watched the army from beside him, one hand resting against the hilt of her lance.

“They are many,” she said quietly.

“Yes.”

“Do you think he knows this is a trap, Nathan-sama?”

Nathan was silent for a moment.

“I think he knows someone is trying to make him move.”

Yukihime glanced at him.

“But he moves anyway.”

“He has no choice.”

Norihiro had built his power on certainty. He had convinced the South that he was strong enough to stand against the North, the samurai clans, and even the capital itself. If he hid behind Minami Kyoto’s walls while Urakami gathered soldiers near his border, his own followers would begin questioning him.

Norihiro understood that.

He could not let fear become visible.

Not now.

Not when the entire South was watching.

Nathan’s gaze followed the marching soldiers until the last of the column disappeared along the road.

Then he turned away.

“We need to move.”

Yukihime nodded.

They descended through the forest without another word.

Farther ahead, Genzo and a small group of shinobi were waiting at the old shrine ruins that stood near the edge of the planned battlefield. It was not one of the cursed demon shrines. This place had long been abandoned, its wooden structure rotting beneath the trees, its stone path swallowed by moss and weeds.

Still, it served as a useful place to meet.

By the time Nathan and Yukihime arrived, Genzo was standing over a map laid across a broad stone slab.

Four shinobi surrounded him.

Hanzo was among them.

Nathan’s eyes went to her first.

She had returned from Minami Kyoto without injury, though the exhaustion in her face was obvious. Dust marked the hem of her clothing, and her hair had come loose around her shoulders. Yet she stood straight, alert, and focused.

“You got out safely,” Nathan said.

Hanzo looked at him.

“I told you I would.”

There was the smallest trace of pride in her voice.

Nathan gave a faint nod. “Good.”

Genzo folded his arms.

“Norihiro has reached the southern edge of the field,” he said. “His soldiers are making camp for a few hours before dawn. Scouts have been sent farther west.”

“And Urakami?” Nathan asked.

One of the shinobi answered.

“Our people near his camp confirmed that he began moving shortly after sunset. His force is smaller than Norihiro’s, perhaps two thousand men, but many are mounted and better armored.”

“He still believes Norihiro is hiding in the city,” Hanzo added. “The report reached him exactly as planned.”

Nathan looked down at the map.

The battlefield lay between them.

A broad plain stretched across the western road, surrounded by low hills and scattered groves. It was farmland mostly, though the harvest season had ended and the fields stood empty beneath the night. A shallow river ran along the northern side, crossed by an old wooden bridge.

Norihiro would likely take the southern rise.

Urakami would come from the west.

Once the sun rose, neither army would be able to avoid seeing the other.

And when they did, there would be no easy way back.

“The civilians?” Nathan asked.

Genzo pointed to the smaller villages surrounding the fields.

“Moved or moving. Our people spoke to farmers and travelers, told them there were bandits on the road and soldiers preparing to seize food. Most have left already.”

“Most?”

Genzo’s expression grew heavier.

“There are always some who refuse. Old people. Families who have nowhere else to go. People who do not believe danger will reach them until it is already standing at their door.”

Nathan said nothing.

He knew that truth too well.

No plan could save everyone.

Still, that did not mean he would stop trying.

“Have our people help them leave,” he said. “Do not force them unless there is no other way. But they cannot remain near the road once the battle starts.”

Genzo nodded.

“And Minami Kyoto?” Nathan continued.

Hanzo stepped forward.

“The gates are secure for now. Captain Jiro remained in the city with several hundred soldiers. He is tightening control over the roads and searching for anyone connected to the shinobi.”

“Has he found anyone?”

“Not yet.”

Nathan looked at the map again.

Jiro was a problem.

If Norihiro died, Jiro could take control of Minami Kyoto’s remaining soldiers. If he decided to open the gates to Urakami, then the whole city could fall before the shinobi had time to respond.

They needed someone inside the city ready to act.

“Who is closest to Jiro?” Nathan asked.

Hanzo considered it.

“There is a gate officer named Masato. He has served under Jiro for years, but his brother was taken by Norihiro’s tax collectors last winter. He has never forgiven it.”

Genzo looked toward her.

“Can he be trusted?”

“He will not help us openly while Norihiro lives,” Hanzo said. “But once Norihiro is gone, he may choose the city over Jiro.”

Nathan nodded slowly.

“Send word to him.”

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed.

“What should I tell him?”

“Tell him the samurai will try to enter Minami Kyoto after Norihiro falls.”

“That much is obvious.”

“Tell him they will not come as allies.”

Hanzo understood.

Nathan continued.

“If he wants to protect the people inside the city, he keeps the gates shut. He does not let Urakami’s men enter under any excuse. Not as reinforcements. Not as negotiators. Not as protectors.”

“And if Jiro orders him to open them?”

Nathan looked at her.

“Then Masato decides whether he serves a dead Daimyo’s last command or the people he claims to protect.”

Hanzo gave a sharp nod.

“I will send the message.”

She turned toward one of the shinobi waiting near the shrine path and spoke to him in a quiet voice. The man listened, then disappeared between the trees.

Genzo watched Nathan carefully.

“You believe Norihiro will die tomorrow.”

“I believe he will try to survive.”

“That was not what I asked.”

Nathan lifted his eyes.

Genzo held his gaze.

There was no accusation in the older man’s expression. Only the understanding that the next day would decide whether the South truly changed or fell into a deeper disaster.

Nathan finally answered.

“Yes.”

The word came quietly.

But it carried finality.

Norihiro had been given too many chances.

He had built his position through fear. He had used people as tools, ruled through lies, and prepared some unknown ritual beneath Minami Kyoto. Mitsuhide’s final warning still lingered in Nathan’s mind.

Norihiro had a shrine.

That alone meant he could not be left alive.

Not after what Mitsuhide had become.

Yukihime stepped closer to Nathan’s side.

“And Urakami?” she asked.

Nathan glanced toward the western road.

“Urakami will be allowed to win for a while.”

Yukihime’s expression became colder.

“That sounds unpleasant.”

“It will be.”

Urakami needed to believe he had succeeded.

He needed to stand over Norihiro’s fallen forces and claim that the samurai had brought order to the South. He needed to advance toward Minami Kyoto believing the gates would open before him.

Only then would the people see what he truly wanted.

Not peace.

Control.

And when the shinobi moved against him afterward, they would not appear as assassins hiding in the dark.

They would appear as defenders.

Genzo nodded slowly.

“The city will need someone to rally behind.”

“Yes.”

“The shinobi.”

Nathan looked at him.

“The people have feared you for years because they were taught to fear you. That can change.”

Genzo’s expression hardened slightly.

“Not everyone will forgive us.”

“No,” Nathan said. “But they do not need to forgive everything at once. They only need to see who stands between them and the samurai.”

For a moment, no one spoke.

The darkness around the ruined shrine felt deeper.

Then a low whistle echoed from the trees.

A shinobi appeared along the path, moving quickly toward them.

“Genzo-sama.”

Genzo turned.

“What is it?”

“Urakami’s advance force has reached the western side of the fields. They are not making camp. They are continuing east.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed.

“He is moving through the night?”

“Yes. His men are tired, but he wants to reach Minami Kyoto before Norihiro can prepare more defenses.”

A faint smile appeared on Nathan’s face.

Urakami was impatient.

Good.

That would make the trap close faster.

“What about Norihiro?” Nathan asked.

“His scouts spotted Urakami’s outriders less than an hour ago. The army has stopped. They are taking formation along the southern ridge.”

Nathan looked toward Genzo.

“It begins at dawn.”

Genzo nodded.

“Then we should move.”

The shinobi scattered quickly after that.

Some headed toward the roads leading away from the field, continuing the work of guiding civilians to safety. Others moved toward hidden observation points along the hills. A smaller group prepared to return to Minami Kyoto, carrying warnings for the shinobi inside.

Hanzo remained behind for a moment.

Nathan noticed.

“You should go with Genzo,” he said.

Hanzo shook her head.

“I am coming with you.”

“No.”

Her face tightened.

“Ryo-“

“You have done enough.”

“I know the city. I know Norihiro’s officers. If he has a weakness in his guard, I may see it before anyone else.”

Nathan studied her.

Hanzo did not look away.

She had changed since the beginning.

Once, she would have hidden her determination behind cold answers and silence. Now she stood before him openly, prepared to argue for a place in a battle that could kill her.

Genzo stepped closer.

“She is right,” he said.

Nathan glanced at him.

“Do not encourage her.”

“I am not encouraging her.” Genzo’s tone was calm. “I am accepting that she is a great shinobi. And she has all rights to stand with us.”

Hanzo’s eyes softened briefly when she looked at her uncle.

Nathan sighed. He was just worried because of how dangerous Norihiro could be. Even now in the open, Nathan was very wary against him.

“Stay behind Yukihime and me,” he said. “You do not chase Norihiro. You do not try to prove anything. If the battle becomes chaotic, you focus on the soldiers and officers around him. Nothing else.”

Hanzo nodded immediately.

“Understood.”

Before dawn, Nathan, Yukihime, Hanzo, Genzo, and twelve selected shinobi took positions along the northern hill overlooking the field.

The sky was still dark when they arrived.

Mist lay across the empty farmland, spreading over the earth in pale layers. The road cut through the center like a scar, running from the western ridge toward Minami Kyoto. On the southern rise, Norihiro’s army had formed its lines.

Nathan could see them clearly now.

Soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder behind raised shields. Archers waited farther back. Cavalry gathered near both wings. Norihiro’s banner moved above the center, black against the fading night.

The Daimyo had chosen his ground well.

The southern ridge gave him a slight advantage. His archers could fire downward. His soldiers would be harder to break if Urakami attacked uphill. The shallow river protected part of his northern side, making it difficult for the samurai to surround him completely.

He was not foolish.

Nor was he afraid.

Nathan spotted Norihiro near the front line, mounted once again, surrounded by his inner guard.

Even from afar, he looked calm.

Too calm.

Nathan’s hand moved unconsciously toward the poison mark on his neck.

A dull ache pulsed beneath his skin.

Yukihime noticed.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not much.”

“You are lying, Nathan-sama.”

Nathan looked at her.

“It is not important.”

Yukihime’s eyes darkened.

“It is important to me.”

Before he could answer, Genzo raised one hand.

Movement appeared beyond the western ridge.

At first, it was only a faint line of red beneath the mist.

Then the sun began to rise.

The first light spilled across the horizon, painting the clouds in pale orange and gold. As the darkness retreated, Urakami’s army became visible.

Red armor.

Rows of spears.

Mounted warriors.

Banners carrying the mark of the Urakami Clan.

They marched in formation across the western fields, their steps steady despite the long night. Urakami rode near the front, his armor brighter than the others, almost crimson beneath the rising sun.

He saw Norihiro’s army waiting on the southern ridge.

For a moment, the samurai force slowed.

Then Norihiro’s horns sounded.

The deep call rolled across the fields.

Urakami’s soldiers answered with horns of their own.

The sound filled the morning air.

It reached every farm, every empty road, every frightened family hiding in nearby woods.

War had arrived in the South.

Norihiro rode forward a short distance, his voice carrying across the field.

“Urakami.”

The samurai leader lifted one arm.

His army halted.

The space between them remained wide, filled with mist and silence.

Urakami’s laugh echoed across the field.

“So you did not hide behind your walls after all.”

Norihiro’s horse shifted beneath him.

“I should say the same. I expected the Akamine Clan to send someone more impressive.”

A few soldiers on Norihiro’s side laughed.

Urakami’s smile vanished.

“You have courage for a man whose domain is about to be taken from him.”

“This is my land,” Norihiro replied. “You marched into it with weapons stolen from a coward.”

“Stolen?” Urakami called back. “Sadamasa gave them freely. He understands who will hold the South once you are gone.”

Norihiro’s face became cold.

The confirmation was enough.

Sadamasa had betrayed him.

Not merely through rumors.

Through weapons.

Through an alliance with the samurai.

Norihiro drew his sword slowly.

The sound of steel leaving its sheath carried through the quiet field.

“You came here believing you would conquer me,” he said.

Urakami drew his own blade.

“I came here to bury you.”

Norihiro lifted his sword.

“Then come.”

Urakami’s eyes flashed.

He raised his arm.

“Advance!”

The samurai army began moving.

At first, their pace was measured.

Then the horns sounded again, louder this time, and the red armored soldiers broke into a charge.

Norihiro’s archers fired.

The first wave of arrows rose into the brightening sky.

For a brief moment, they looked almost beautiful.

Then they fell.

The battlefield erupted.

Nathan watched from the hill as the two armies collided beneath the morning sun.

Steel struck steel.

Horses screamed.

Men shouted as the first ranks crashed into one another.

The plan had reached the point where it no longer belonged to whispers, maps, or carefully placed lies.

Now it belonged to blood.

And somewhere within the chaos below, Norihiro waited.

Nathan’s eyes fixed on the Daimyo’s position.

“Stay ready,” he said.

Yukihime’s lance appeared in her hand with a flash of pale light.

Hanzo drew her blades.

Genzo’s shinobi slipped into the trees around them.

The first battle for the future of the South had begun.