Days passed, and Murashige Araki did not appear at Azuchi. Instead, rumors began to swirl that he was stockpiling massive amounts of provisions within his own castle.

  A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon Azuchi Castle.

  Servants moved like ghosts, killing their footsteps, while pages held their breath, desperately trying to gauge their lord’s mercurial temper. Everyone felt it—Nobunaga’s patience had reached its absolute limit.

  "Again...?" Nobunaga’s voice was a low, guttural groan. "Do you, too, intend to turn your back on me...?"

  The page, Ranmaru Mori, felt a violent jolt through his spine the moment he heard that sound. Paralyzed by terror, he couldn't even bring himself to turn around.

  Perhaps, in that moment, the face of Hisahide Matsunaga flickered through Nobunaga’s mind—the man who, just a year prior, had vanished in a defiant explosion at Shigisan Castle.

  Hisahide was a man of legendary infamy, a 'Great Villain' who had assassinated shoguns, murdered his own lords, and burned great Buddhas without a flicker of remorse. He was a predator of the age who eventually chose to become ash along with his prized tea kettles rather than surrender. Nobunaga had admired his talent and forgiven his betrayals multiple times, yet Hisahide had ultimately spat in his face.

  The great hall of Azuchi was eerily bright, the thin autumn sunlight rebounding off the golden tatami mats. The wall paintings of vibrant phoenixes seemed to freeze in fear, as if intimidated by their master’s silence.

  From the distant donjon still under construction, the intermittent sound of chisels striking stone echoed—a cold, mechanical rhythm that was the only thing holding the strained atmosphere of the room together.

  Ranmaru, seated at Nobunaga’s left, felt his master’s hand trembling over his own right shoulder. Straining his ears, he heard Nobunaga muttering in a voice like a snarling beast.

  "First Hisahide, now Murashige... even you wish to shake off my hand...?"

  "Hisahide shattered himself spectacularly along with his Hiragumo tea kettle... but you, Murashige. I will not be satisfied until I show you a hell far worse than that."

  "I will carve the price of betrayal into your very flesh, and into every member of the clan you hold so dear... Mark my words, Murashige."

  Ranmaru, sensing the impending nightmare, began to cower. Then, he felt as if something inside Nobunaga had snapped. It was the precise moment the suspicion of Murashige’s treason turned into absolute conviction.

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  Suddenly, with a dull thud, Ranmaru’s body was flung into the air. Nobunaga had kicked him away with savage force.

  Ranmaru tumbled across the mats, and as he looked up, he saw the veins bulging in Nobunaga’s temples. His eyes—they were the eyes of a starving predator. At this stage, no one could stop him.

  "WHAT IS THIS MADNESS! That fool! A mere Murashige dares to deceive me, Nobunaga!?"

  An armrest was hurled against the wall, wood splinters flying like shrapnel.

  Sliding doors were ripped open, washi paper fluttering through the air like dying butterflies.

  Nobunaga’s fist slammed into the gold-leafed wall with a sickening crack.

  His roars vibrated through the air, piercing the eardrums of everyone present. The sound of his footsteps as he stomped across the hall—the same feet that had just sent Ranmaru flying—echoed ominously through the silent corridors of Azuchi.

  "Curse him! I will not let him live! Every last one of his kin... I will uproot them all! Negiri—total extermination!"

  The retainers were frozen, paralyzed by a level of rage they had never witnessed before. This was not his usual anger; this was a volcanic eruption of a different magnitude.

  "My Lord... surely, even the women and children...?"

  Mitsuhide Akechi, who prided himself on being the most intellectual of the Oda clan, made the fatal mistake of speaking out of turn.

  In an instant, Nobunaga’s movements ceased. He turned toward Mitsuhide with agonizing slowness.

  "Oh...?"

  Nobunaga approached Mitsuhide with a predatory grace.

  "Mitsuhide. Do you pity the women and children? Then you shall take responsibility. You will be the one to behead every last woman and child of Murashige’s blood. If you do that, then I shall be satisfied."

  Mitsuhide’s face turned deathly pale. His cheek twitched uncontrollably.

  "Well? What will it be? Will you give Murashige’s family a 'merciful' death? Or will you shut your mouth and watch my way of doing things?"

  As the room held its breath, Mitsuhide bowed his head deeply, his body trembling.

  "I... I said nothing, my lord."

  "Hmph... No one is interested in your shallow wisdom!!"

  As the words left his mouth, Nobunaga kicked upward with all his might, his foot connecting squarely with the bridge of Mitsuhide’s nose as he lay prostrate.

  Mitsuhide’s upper body seemed to defy gravity for a second, arcing backward through the air. He slammed into the tatami, a dull thud echoing from his spine.

  Blood began to pour through the gaps of the fingers Mitsuhide used to cover his face, staining the golden tatami with dark, visceral blotches. Nobunaga looked down at him as if he were looking at filth.

  Terror and humiliation—these were the only things that occupied Mitsuhide’s world in that moment.

  Every man present shuddered at the "black flames of human distrust" rising from Nobunaga’s entire being. This was the peak of the Sixth Heavenly Demon King’s fury.

  "That wretch, Murashige! Forgetting the debt he owes me for making him the Lord of Settsu!"

  For a long while, Nobunaga continued to kick and strike at everything within his reach.

  "Murashige! You shall suffer the same fate as Nobuyuki and Nagamasa! No, that would be too soft. I will make you taste an endless Avici Hell. Never forget... I, Nobunaga, will personally deliver your end!"

  The following November, Nobunaga took to the field at the head of a massive army. While surrounding Murashige’s Arioka Castle, he began to systematically dismantle Murashige's alliances through subversion, isolating the Araki clan.

  His goal was clear: the total slaughter of the entire bloodline. For Nobunaga Oda, there was no betrayal more unforgivable than this.

  Produced and written by a Japanese author, rooted in authentic Japanese history. Translated with the assistance of Gemini (AI).