Oblivious to the danger, Marrow slid his black, rusty blade between his teeth. This can’t happen, Toshi thought. It won’t happen. Marrow was fraction of Hidetsugu’s size and the ogre’s skin was far too tough for a rusted nezumi blade, even if it was wielded by one of the most competent rats in all the world.
But Marrow was even more competent, brave, and resourceful than Toshi could credit. The nezumi carefully weighed the situation, plotted his attack by scanning the walls and ceiling, and then literally sprang into action.
The tough, powerful muscles in his legs carried him halfway up the chamber wall to the left of Hidetsugu. His claws dug into the fabric covering the stone wall, giving Marrow enough purchase to launch himself all the way up to the ceiling. Were he larger or less strong, he never could have climbed so high so fast. Rats were made for climbing and jumping, and Marrow was a most exceptional rat.
As he rebounded off the ceiling, Marrow was spotted by the yamabushi. The female shouted, and the male raised his staff, but neither of them were quicker than a striking nezumi.
Marrow screeched from a few feet over Hidetsugu’s head. The o-bakemono instinctively looked up at the sound just as Marrow struck with all his might, driving his dirty, jagged sword deep into the ogre’s eye.
CHAPTER 10
Konda had never felt so alive.
The greater oni descended on the battlefield like a storm cloud, large and savage enough to engage all of the Daimyo’s ghost army. His retainers threw themselves against the enemy’s snapping jaws while the battle-moths hurled bolts of righteous fire at its eyes.
Both sides seemed inexhaustible. The greater oni grew darker and thicker, its multiple mouths larger and sharper no matter how much damage Konda’s army inflicted. Likewise, his soldiers reformed and rejoined the battle seconds after being rent by those terrible jaws. If not for the fact that he was slowly and surely pushing toward the academy, Konda would have considered this situation a stalemate.
Konda felt a renewed rush of pride for his army and the justness of their cause. The beast was fearsome in battle, but Konda’s army was beyond fear. They were the demon’s equal in ferocity, stamina, and determination, and with Konda leading them it was only a matter of time before the prize would be his once more.
The oni’s buzzing hive-body rumbled like the beginnings of an avalanche. The ground shook and the moth-riders were buffeted as the air itself pounded them. The great demon’s form expanded briefly, then contracted down to half its original size.
Before Konda could shout an order, the oni’s body exploded, sending hard, sharp teeth and a crushing wave of concussive force radiating outward across the battlefield. The daimyo himself was able to remain upright only by tucking his head behind his horse’s and tightly gripping the animal’s saddle.
Konda’s spectral retainers were less fortunate. Those closest to the oni were torn to shreds by the shrapnel and the sheer power of the blast, which scoured a circular crater deep into the ground. Battle-moths were sundered from their grafted-on riders and hurled violently from the field, their broad wings useless in the gale. The oni’s eyes and horns remained constant, mute witnesses to the bedlam and bloodshed below.
Konda glared at the oni, impressed but undeterred. It was an excellent blow, well struck, but it would not be enough to stop him.
The field was now covered in a thin layer of smoke and dust. It had grown deathly quiet. Then, as Konda’s soldiers regained their feet and resumed their charge, their war cries sounded again, mingling with the feral snarls of the lesser oni. Yes, Konda thought, this battle is far from over.
He kicked to prod his steed forward but pulled back on the reins when something in the southern sky caught his attention. As he wheeled the horse around, Konda’s eyes remained fixed on the academy, but the daimyo could still see the awesome and terribly familiar sight that was forming on the horizon.
Six new suns had flared to life, burning away the heavy banks of afternoon clouds. These fiery orbs moved in pairs, scanning the ground below as they increased in both size and brilliance. They drew closer to Konda, and he saw three reptilian faces forming around each pair of eyes. The serpent heads became sharper, more defined, and more terrible with each passing moment, perched atop huge, writhing necks covered in dazzling golden scales.
This was O-Kagachi, the ultimate guardian of the spirit world, the physical world, and the boundary between. Its rage had spurred the lesser kami to action when Konda brazenly raided their realm, and its ire launched twenty years of conflict. The multiheaded serpent had personally battered Eiganjo’s walls to pieces and crushed the Daimyo’s army in its rush to recover the Taken One. Konda took some small satisfaction from the fact that while he no longer possessed the prize, neither did the Great Old Serpent.
As a rival for the Taken One, O-Kagachi was Konda’s mortal enemy. As the embodiment of the barrier preventing direct contact between kakuriyo and utsushiyo, O-Kagachi was his nemesis. The great serpent’s arrival was a threat, but it was also an opportunity, for an abstract concept made flesh can be dangerous, but it can also be overcome.
Konda quickly weighed his choices. He could continue to battle the oni-the more timely his victory, the more likely he’d get to the prize first. Or he could turn and try to engage O-Kagachi, which would give his army the chance to avenge their own deaths but would also expose them to the oni’s treachery from behind.
Neither of these options appealed to Konda, so he chose a third course. He concentrated, calling his best horsemen and five battle-moths to him. Together they would form a phalanx that would punch through the oni and enter Minamo while the main force continued to fight the demonic horde. O-Kagachi moved slowly while it fully manifested, so the daimyo was confident his retainers could win the day while he acquired the prize, all long before the old serpent joined the battle.
Konda waved his sword in a wide arc, drawing cheers from his personal phalanx. The daimyo spurred his horse, and the noble beast charged. By the time it reached the edge of the oni’s crater, it had built up enough momentum to leap clear over the smoking hole created by the oni’s blast.
Airborne, between the moths overhead and his soldiers on the ground, Konda felt the force of his true destiny pulling him forward. The prize, victory over the oni, revenge on O-Kagachi … eternal life, and ultimate power to wield for the glory of Eiganjo. Before this day was done, Daimyo Konda would have them all.
Hidetsugu raged and roared after Marrow’s blade struck. He immediately dropped Toshi and Kiku as he fell back.
For several moments after tumbling to the floor, Toshi thought he had been crushed to death. His cruelly compressed lungs at first refused to reinflate, so he had to coax in a sip of air at a time. Marrow was there beside him before Toshi could rise or even clear his vision.
“Let’s go, oath-brother,” the nezumi hissed excitedly. “I hurt him but I don’t think I stopped him.”
Toshi shook his head. He grabbed Marrow by the shoulders and pulled him close so he could look in the nezumi’s eyes.
“Find my sword,” Toshi said. “The long one.”
Marrow-Gnawer cocked his head. “What? What’d I do? My hand burned, I saw him hurting you, so I figured the oath was already broken. Like you said.” Marrow quickly glanced down at the slightly smoking triangle scratched into his palm. “The oath is gone, right? I saved you. I did good.” The nezumi’s pleading eyes searched Toshi’s face. “Didn’t I?”
As the last syllable left his mouth, Marrow went rigid. He stood trembling and twitching as his face flushed. Toshi could see smoke rising from Marrow’s fur and feel heat radiating from the nezumi’s body.