CHAPTER 237: CHAPTER 169 NATIONAL INHERITANCE DOCUMENT

Oda Nobunaga was like a cop in the movies who only arrives at the scene after everything is already over. By the time he crossed the Kisogawa River and entered "Kawamata"—the area between the Kisogawa and Changliang Rivers—his father-in-law had already been dead for several days.

He’d brought with him over five thousand men, basically the full force that the Dan Zhengzhong family could muster on the eastern front under the pressure of the Imagawa and Matsudaira families. He’d originally hoped to take a shot at Minoh’s Ogaki Castle, but with the castle already within sight, faced with Saito Yoshitada’s ever-swelling force—now over twenty thousand—he froze, unwilling to start a fight he wasn’t sure he could win.

This brother-in-law of his also didn’t dare to beat up his new brother-in-law, even though his brother-in-law had just killed his father-in-law, and he had never anticipated his father-in-law would lose so swiftly.

But he didn’t leave immediately either; instead, he stationed his troops to observe how the situation unfolded, hoping Saito Yoshitada would fail to control the many powerful clans of Minoh and an internal conflict would erupt, letting him take advantage—ideally even seizing Ogaki Castle.

Unfortunately, Saito Yoshitada, having managed to bring down one of the "Three Great Schemers of the Sengoku Era," Saito Dosan, was truly a master of the art—outdoing his teacher. The man was no mediocrity and managed to hold Minoh together without the slightest hint of fracture or chaos.

On the contrary, after several days of rest, Saito Yoshitada led his massive army southward along the Changliang River, his intent to wage battle all but plain as day.

It was only now that Oda Nobunaga finally lost all hope; he had no interest in a fruitless battle of attrition, so he turned his army around and marched home the way he’d come, making the whole enterprise a fruitless fatigue—gaining nothing at all.

Worse still, the two pillars that had long supported him—his father-in-law Saito Dosan and his uncle Oda Nobuaki—had both now died. In some sense, the only reliable ally he had left was Harano, whose territory was small, with a sparse population—practically a lone wolf.

Oda Nobunaga’s mood was far from pleasant. Harano, on the other hand, was rather chipper. After all, his personal ambitions were almost satisfied—taking advantage of the Saito father and son’s internal strife and their distraction from him, he’d been busy with his own affairs, transporting close to two thousand people to Moyu. He’d gradually ship them back to New Wanjin, which would temporarily ease his dire labor shortage.

When Saito Yoshitada saw them retreating, he didn’t press them hard but merely followed at a distance, hustling them back over the Kisogawa River before turning around and heading back to Inaba Castle. After all, Minoh had just "changed sovereigns," and there was much left for him to handle. He simply had no time to bother with his conveniently related brother-in-law, Oda Nobunaga.

And with that, this battle was more or less over, and the alliance between the Oda Dan Zhengzhong family and the Saito family had also ended. The next time they met, they would be enemies.

......

Harano had arrived as the vanguard, but going back, he’d become the rear guard, stopping in the Moyu area to arrange the transport of people. But transferring people via inland rivers was a real hassle—a far cry from the convenience of shipping by sea. Each trip could only take several dozen at most, so it would take ten days or more before he could get everyone to the coast. Fortunately, everyone along the way respected Oda Nobunaga enough not to attack or extort him—otherwise, things would have been ten times more troublesome.

The labor shortage was a matter of New Wanjin’s future, and these new immigrants were extremely important. Harano needed to make sure every last one made it home safely. He was stressing out over this when a subordinate officer suddenly rushed in with a report: "Sir, there’s a man outside the camp claiming to be Lord Ah Man’s grandfather. He says the matter is urgent and requests to see you."

"Who?" Harano looked up in surprise, while Ah Qing—who had been sitting beside him brewing tea—instantly jumped to her feet, her usual cool expression breaking as she too showed her astonishment.

The officer quickly repeated, "That man claims to be Lord Ah Man’s grandfather."

Harano never would have imagined that the grandfather Ah Man had searched for in vain would show up all on his own. To be honest, if Ah Man and Ah Qing didn’t have those gourds on their heads, he would have suspected the old man—wait, correction, the old gentleman—had been abducted by a snake spirit. He’d even dreamed once of fighting the snake spirit alongside Ah Man and Ah Qing.

His mind scattered with wild thoughts, but his body didn’t linger; he instinctively rose and rushed outside. By now, Ah Qing had also snapped back to awareness, her surprise giving way to joy, though she didn’t race ahead of Harano, instead following just behind him to greet the guest. Ah Man wasn’t in camp—she’d gone with a group to escort the new immigrants homeward, clearing the road in case any bands of river thieves tried to cause trouble.

Harano ran to the camp gate, and from a distance spotted a short, elderly man standing there with two grubby little girls behind him, all watched closely by a small squad of Wanjin soldiers wary of any sudden move.

"That must be old man Izumi Hichiji, right?"

Harano had heard of the old gentleman’s fame—anyone who’d trained Ah Man and Ah Qing to that level had to be some kind of hidden master. Wanting to show respect, he immediately switched on his cultured persona (as Yuan Bei or Yuan Xuande), barely catching his breath as he greeted him, hand extended for support as a show of sincerity. But his hand only grasped empty air: Izumi Hichiji had only one arm. Ah Man used to boast her old man could "one-handedly pop someone’s chrysanthemum," and Harano had thought she meant his skills were shocking—but it turned out the man literally had only a left arm.

And Izumi Hichiji wasn’t just a "one-armed swordsman"—there was also a deep, old scar running down the side of his right face, like a twisted centipede; his eyelid was sunken and empty, making him a genuine "one-eyed swordsman."

He didn’t look to be in good condition either: lips cracked, hair a tangled mess streaked with white, plastered by sweat to a dirty, blood- and dust-caked face. A sorry, exhausted sight—likely he’d had to fight his way all the way here. The cloth wrappings on the hilt of the tachi at his waist were black with dried blood, the stains positively frightening.

But even with all that weary and weathered air, his left eye remained bright, crow’s feet showing as he smiled gently and bowed his head in greeting: "Is this Lord Harano before me? Not worthy as I am, I am indeed Konan Izumi Heiji." (He came from Konan township in Koka County, so he styled himself that way.)

"That’s me, old gentleman, you may call me Saburo..." Harano was politely attentive, reaching out in a different gesture to steady him. At the same time, his Mongolian doctor insticts—and the stench of blood and rot in his nose—told him that Izumi Heiji was wounded, and not lightly wounded at that. Mid-sentence, he quickly changed tack: "Let’s go inside and talk first!"

"Thank you then, Lord Harano." Izumi Heiji hadn’t expected that a local strongman like Harano would be so modest in bearing, but in truth he did have an urgent matter for him. He nodded his head and followed Harano inside, while Asa and Ayu, the two girls, both trailed behind looking equally disheveled, spattered with blood and grime. The old straw hat on Asa’s back had been hacked in half by a blade—they looked like they’d really just escaped death.

Ah Qing ignored the two kids and silently moved to help support Izumi Heiji instead. He looked at her carefully, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but quickly he smiled kindly and patted her hand, indicating he was fine.

Entering the improvised camp, Harano quickly ordered people to fetch medicine, tea, and food. But Izumi Heiji soon stopped him, speaking seriously: "Lord Harano, let’s get to the main business first!"

Harano was a bit surprised, but had preparations made anyhow, and then invited him to sit before asking, "May I ask, what’s the urgent matter?" If it was about shelter or avoiding pursuers, that was no problem—given his connection with Ah Man and Ah Qing, he’d make sure no one laid a finger on the old man. Anyone who tried would find themselves blasted to bits.

Izumi Heiji didn’t waste words—he simply didn’t have the energy—he reached into his robe and pulled out an oil-paper packet, unwrapping it in front of Harano to reveal two letters. He gave a bitter smile: "Originally, I was to deliver these two letters to Lord of Upper General in Qingzhou City and to Lady Nongji, but at the ferry crossing I saw the secret signals Ah Man and Ah Qing had left. Now, unable to travel, I must shamelessly trouble you to make the journey for me!"

Harano accepted the letters, not opening them right away. He asked quietly, "These are..."

"These are Saito Dosan’s National Inheritance Document and his will," said Izumi Heiji, eyeing the two letters with a sense of melancholy. "At the battle on Crane Mountain, Saito Dosan, foreseeing his doom, wrote the National Inheritance Document to entrust Minoh to the Lord of Upper General. He also left a will for Lady Nongji, instructing me to deliver them out. But..."

But Saito Yoshitada was unwilling and had his men hunt them the whole way. If he hadn’t intersected with Harano, he would have had to dash wounded into Owari, and probably would’ve died.

Harano nodded lightly, then glanced at the two letters. The National Inheritance Document for Oda Nobunaga was sealed with a wax seal and impossible to open. The will, however, was unsealed. He took out the will and scanned it, finding a final short poem inside:

When one attains the Way, his nine generations ascend to heaven. Alas!

Pen put down, tears fall, it was but a dream of Nan Ke.

Saito of Yamashiro, among the mysteries of the Lotus Sutra, suffered lifelong aging, sickness, and death, and gained Buddha-nature on the battlefield.

Is it not delightful?

Tomorrow’s battle—even if I’m left in pieces—I will achieve Buddhahood, abandoning the vanity of this world like dew vanishing at dawn.

Harano finished reading and fell silent. He felt that Saito Dosan’s literary flair wasn’t particularly impressive, but then turned to look at the "National Inheritance Document." That, he felt at least, carried real weight. He imagined...

With this thing, Minoh and Owari were sure to keep on fighting. Who knew how many more would die.