Chapter 1
The sky of the Muromachi period seemed shrouded in an indelible gloom. The ravages of time had eroded the Kyoto Palace, stripping it of its former splendor. Deep within the nine-story palace, even the funds for the deceased emperor’s funeral were insufficient. Court nobles fled the decaying capital, seeking refuge under the roofs of the daimyo (lords) across the country like scattered cherry blossom petals. Even the Shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiteru, could only scrape by on the aid of others.
In the autumn of the third year of the Kōji era, before the death knell of Emperor Go-Nara had yet to fade, the new emperor, Prince Fangren, ascended the throne amidst the bleak autumn winds, becoming Emperor Go-Yoshimachi. The news, like a stone dropped into a still lake, sent ripples through the daimyo. Regional lords rushed to offer tributes of gold, silver, and silk, seemingly proving their loyalty through these gifts. With these donations, the imperial court was able to manage a respectable enthronement ceremony. Imperial edicts of conferment arrived like snowflakes to the territories of these “loyal ministers.”
Among these tribute-paying generals, one name stood out: Oda Nobuhide. This general, recently defeated at the Battle of Mino, had vowed to offer his tribute to the imperial court once the fighting eased. Now, the tribute he had promised lay quietly stacked beneath the corridors of the Imperial Palace, which was in dire need of repair. These treasures would repair the peeling vermilion lacquer and broken tiles, and they also demonstrated the Oda family’s eagerness to serve the emperor.
After the smoke of the Onin War ended, Japan entered the Warring States Period, a period of warring warlords. Under the command of Oda Toshisada, three generals emerged as sharp as swords. Among them was Oda Masatada’s son, the future mighty Oda Nobuhide—at this time, he was still a minor lord of Owari. The Oda clan, residing in Katsubata Castle and claiming descent from the Fujiwara clan, quietly hatched a shocking secret: to displace the Ashikaga clan, descendants of the Minamoto clan, they were willing to change their surname to the Taira clan.
And all these grand ambitions hinged on the impending birth of a child.
In the third year of Tenbun, the morning mist over Furuno Castle was shattered by the cry of a newborn. This child, named Nobunaga, stood out from the very beginning. An innate wildfire burned in his eyes, and his every gesture betrayed a disdain for worldly propriety. Veteran ministers often whispered in the corridors, “This child is as brutal as the reincarnation of the Overlord of Western Chu.” Yet, it was precisely this unruly nature that seemed tailor-made for this age of the law of the jungle.
At the age of thirteen, Nobunaga personally led a cavalry raid on Mikawa, returning with his robes still stained with the smoke and dust of the enemy’s territory. As his father Nobuhide’s coffin sank beneath Manshō-ji Temple, the young heir to the family business devoted his days to martial arts, neglecting government affairs. Until one morning, a veteran retainer delivered his final act of admonition in the most gruesome manner possible: his blood stained the white sand in front of the courtyard. Nobunaga gazed long at the pool of crimson, and from then on, his figure began to appear in the morning light of the government hall.
The new lord’s first act was to attack his long-held grudge. The alliance between Oda Hikogoro and Nobuhide, brokered by Hirate Masahide, had become void after Nobunaga ascended the throne. Within Kiyosu Castle, Oda Hikogoro conspired with his retainers: “That young brat, we can join forces with Matsuba and Fukada Castle to eliminate him!”
But Nobunaga’s actions spread faster than word could reach him. The eighteen-year-old shogun and his uncle Nobumitsu divided their forces into three groups, and like arrows from a bow, they aimed straight at Kiyosu. When the battle report arrived, Matsuba and Fukada surrendered without a fight, leaving Kiyosu Castle a desolate island in the vast ocean. Unexpectedly, Nobunaga remained silent. He reined in his horse outside the castle, gazing at the isolated fortress from afar, as if waiting for something.
Meanwhile, within the shadows of Kiyosu Castle, the seeds of rebellion were quietly sprouting.
