May, 10th year of Tensho (1582).
Having successfully neutralized Fujitaka Hosokawa, Kanbe'e enjoyed no respite. The assault on Bitchu Takamatsu Castle awaited him.
His first move was to summon Kurouemon Inoue. Among his elite retainers, Kurouemon was unparalleled in his agility and his talent for delicate negotiations.
"For a time, I need you at the side of Mr. Fujitaka. Observe the movements of the 'bullet' (Mitsuhide) in my stead and report every detail back to me."
Kurouemon nodded in silence and vanished like a shadow.
The sky over Bitchu seemed as if its very floor had fallen out; day after day, it poured down a relentless, turbid rain.
Accompanied by Nagamasa, who had recently celebrated his coming-of-age, Kanbe had invaded Bitchu as the vanguard of the Hashiba army. Now, a massive wall stood in his path: Takamatsu Castle, defended by the renowned Mori general, Shimizu Muneharu.
The castle was surrounded by a marshy wasteland of deep mud. To move troops there was to offer them up as helpless prey to a relentless hail of arrows and bullets. It was a truth as clear as fire.
Day after day, Kanbe'e stood in the pouring rain, staring at the planned battlefield in agonizing contemplation.
(If we attack, we will lose thousands... yet, if we waste time here, Nobunaga will arrive. I must also probe the tea ceremony Nobunaga plans to hold in Kyoto before then... I need to buy more time.)
Nobunaga’s order to march on the Chugoku region had already been issued. He was set to leave Azuchi in mid-May and arrive in Kyoto shortly after. Once the Demon King set foot on this soil, mercy would be a forgotten word. The Mori would be annihilated, down to the last blade of grass.
In secret, Kanbe'e calculated differently. He did not wish to crush the Mori, but to keep them alive and pull them in as allies for the Hashiba.
"Is there no way to buy time without a clash of blades...?"
Gripping the war fan on his knee, Kanbe'e remembered the "terror of water" he had witnessed in the earthen dungeon of Arioka. The cold water seeping into the dark cage, the life-draining humidity. To turn that suffering into a tactic was an idea bordering on madness.
(To bend the laws of heaven and alter the shape of the earth... this is no longer a battle for a samurai. It is the work of a monster... Yet, perhaps this is the only way to delay Nobunaga’s arrival even by a fraction.)
Kanbe'e wrestled with himself. But to resist a "greater monster" like Nobunaga, he had no choice but to unleash a strategy that transcended humanity. He visited Hideyoshi at the main camp and spread out a map.
"Lord Hideyoshi... let us sink Takamatsu Castle into the water. A direct assault is a waste of soldiers; a siege of hunger is a waste of time."
Hideyoshi looked at Kanbe'e with wide eyes, searching his face.
"Water? Kanbe'e, what are you talking about? How do you propose to sink a castle?"
"We will dam the Ashimori River and build a massive levee. Water carves away the enemy’s spirit more deeply than any blade. You once said men die from their stomachs, but once swallowed by water, they cannot even put rice into those stomachs. When the water rises, the enemy will lose the means to fight, left only to look to the heavens and wait for death. Even if the Mori main army arrives, they will not be able to cross this sea of mud to save the castle. We will decide the fate of this war before the Lord arrives... this is the best path."
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Hideyoshi shuddered at the audacity of the plan, and then he laughed.
"You are a truly terrifying man. Fine—do it! Use as much gold and as many men as you wish!"
From the moment the decision was made, Kanbe'e was like a demon god.
He demolished two thousand houses, using the salvaged timber and countless sandbags to construct a massive levee three kilometers long.
"Stop the river!"
At Kanbe'e’s command, the dam on the Ashimori River was breached. The sight was less like a battle and more like the end of the world. The turbid torrent roared into the lowlands, swallowing the castle town in an instant. Paths that had been dry yesterday were now swirling brown vortexes.
The water rose by the minute, muddy hands grasping at the castle gates, the stone walls, and finally the beautiful white plaster. From atop the levee, the soldiers could be seen fleeing in panic to the higher levels of the castle.
"It’s sinking. The castle... is actually sinking."
Hideyoshi’s inner circle gasped. Before their eyes, the massive existence of a "castle" was vanishing into the water with a quiet but irresistible force. It was a sight more cruel, and more beautiful, than any storm of steel.
A few days after the castle had become an isolated island, a small boat cut through the lake’s surface.
It was Ekei Ankokuji, a diplomat-monk of the Mori. He had ventured into this death-trap to negotiate for peace and the life of the castle lord, Shimizu Muneharu.
Kanbe'e sat deep in a chair atop the levee as Hideyoshi’s proxy, his cold gaze fixed on Ekei as the monk approached, splashing through the mud. When Ekei reached him, he paused for a fraction of a second, taking in Kanbe'e’s grotesque appearance—the missing hair, the crippled leg. But the moment Kanbe'e slowly turned and fixed him with those "too-clear eyes," Ekei broke into a defiant smile.
"Well, well... so you are Mr. Kanbe'e Kuroda, the brain of Mr. Hideyoshi. I am Ekei Ankokuji, envoy of the Mori of Aki. This water... I assume it was your work? A terrifying thing you have done. It is as if you have dragged the very bottom of hell onto the surface of the earth."
Kanbe'e’s expression did not flicker. He let his voice carry on the damp wind.
"Me. Ekei Ankokuji... I have heard the rumors. The 'Eye' of the Mori, who reads the currents of the world. So, is this a talk of peace? Or a bitter song from a sinking mud-boat?"
Ekei stared Kanbe'e down, a chuckle bubbling in his throat.
"Harsh words for a first meeting. And yet, looking into your eyes, I see it. You and I, we are looking at the same thing: 'The World to Come.' How many more years do you think this Oda prosperity will last?"
Kanbe'e’s brow twitched. He felt it instinctively.
(This man... a monk in robe, but a monster not to be underestimated.)
Ekei took a step closer, whispering so his voice blended with the sound of the rain.
"That form of yours... you are like an Ashura who has crawled back from the abyss. Those who have seen hell have already realized that the current Oda glory is but a castle built on sand... Am I wrong?"
Kanbe'e glared into Ekei’s sharp eyes for a heartbeat, then quietly traced the war fan on his knee. He took a breath before answering.
"Because it is a castle on sand, one must find the next solid ground before it collapses... Mr.Ekei. The wind of the world is about to shift. If you do not take the hand I offer now, the House of Mori will vanish without a trace. The time to choose is now."
Ekei watched Kanbe'e intently, sniffing out the "hesitation" and "craving" beneath that frigid will.
"Interesting... Mr. Kanbe'e, I like you. Whether the hand you offer is poison or medicine... I, Ekei, find it a fine amusement to savor that poison bit by bit."
Ekei pulled a string of prayer beads from his robe and toyed with them.
"It seems the road to peace will be steep... yet, it would be a waste to part like this. Mr. Kanbe'e, let us speak like this from time to time, splashing through the mud. Let us discuss who will be checkmated next on the board of the world."
Kanbe'e narrowed his eyes. He decided it would not be a bad thing to keep this "eccentric" close.
"Very well... I do not dislike speaking with a rogue such as yourself."
Amidst the early summer rain, the two rival strategists exchanged a perilous agreement, like holding blades to each other’s throats. As Nobunaga’s shadow loomed over Bitchu, two abysses—Kanbe'e and Ekei—began to connect quietly at the bottom of history’s turbid stream.
Produced and written by a Japanese author, rooted in authentic Japanese history. Translated with the assistance of Gemini (AI).
