Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The midday sun shone over the training grounds of Nagoya Castle, casting long shadows on the dry, dusty ground. The sound of colliding swords echoed like a metallic echo vibrating in the air, as dust rose with every movement, forming clouds that swirled around two figures shrouded in unbridled fury.

Hana and Himari, Senji Muramasa's cousins, fought with overflowing aggressiveness. Their katanas cut through the air with a deadly whistle, and their feet moved with the precision of veteran warriors. Sweat soaked their faces, mixing with the dirt that splattered their cheeks, but neither of them would relent. They fought as if the intent of each blow was to kill, as if with each cut they were trying to tear something much deeper than flesh: their own frustration and anger.

Three days had passed since they had received the news: Senji Muramasa, their cousin, would be under the service of Nagao Kagetora, the Tiger of Echigo. The decision was not only surprising, but it carried with it an unexpected twist. "Senji Muramasa will serve the Uesugi Clan until the end of the year," were the words they received. By next January, he would return to the service of the Oda Clan. A decision calculated by Nobunaga to secure an alliance, but which for Hana and Himari was like a bucket of cold water, they will not be with Senji for a period of three months.

Resentment boiled in the air like summer heat, palpable and dense. The news of their departure had left them speechless, and now, with no voice to express their anger, they channeled all their anger into this brutal fight.

The samurai of the Oda Clan, witnesses of the battle, watched in amazement. Many of them had witnessed countless duels, but what they saw before their eyes was different. Hana and Himari's prowess was almost inhuman, their movements so swift that they could barely be followed. The murmurs among the warriors began to grow, a mixture of admiration and concern.

"Have you heard what happened? Senji Muramasa is under Kagetora's command," one of the samurai muttered, his brow furrowed as his eyes followed the rapid exchanges of blows.

"Yes, they say it's to help consolidate the leadership of the Uesugi Clan. But I've also heard that Kagetora wanted it all for herself," another replied, crossing his arms. "Nobunaga wouldn't allow it, so the solution was to share it."

"That just goes to show how valuable Senji Muramasa is. But look at her cousins... they don't seem to accept this decision so easily," a third samurai remarked, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw Hana execute a downward blow with such force that Himari could barely block it.

The shock was so violent that the vibration ran through the arms of both, but neither moved away. They stood there, face to face, breathing heavily, their gazes burning like two flames feeding on the same fuel: Senji's absence.

And as the dust continued to swirl around them, they both shared a thought without the need for words: when the beginning of next year arrives, their cousin Senji will receive a punishment, and not exactly light.

Nobunaga's Room

The little ten-year-old girl was lying on the tatami floor, staring at the wooden ceiling with an air of utter boredom. His hands rested on his abdomen, and his eyes, though fixed on the dark wooden beams that formed the ceiling, showed no interest in what he saw. Silence reigned in the room, a silence that she had learned to enjoy, for, even if she did not admit it openly, the work of a leader was exhausting. Oda Nobunaga, though only a child, already understood that she had accomplished something that many would never achieve in their lifetimes: she had gained a crucial ally for the expansion of the Oda Clan. Nagao Kagetora, leader of the Uesugi Clan, had accepted his offer of alliance, and Nobunaga's name would soon resonate in the heavens, an emblem of power and conquest. But for now, none of that seemed important. In his mind, all he wished for was for time to pass faster, for the days to get longer so he could plan for the next thing on his path to greatness.

Suddenly, the sliding door of the room opened, interrupting his thoughts. A girl two years older than her, with orange hair falling down her back and blue eyes shining like sapphires, appeared in the doorway. Her face was marked by a mixture of curiosity and confusion as she saw Nobunaga in that position, motionless on the ground as if she were an ordinary child.

"What are you doing?" asked Kaguya Yamai, her voice soft but full of bewilderment. I wasn't used to seeing Nobunaga in that state. Kaguya, though originally an ordinary citizen, had been taken in the war when her family perished on the battlefield of Oda Nobuhide and Saito Dosan. Together with her twin sister, Yuzuru, she was taken prisoner and, like many other children of the war, became a "booty" for the clan. Since then, Kaguya and her sister had lived in Nobunaga's service. Unlike other POWs, the Yamai sisters were instructed in the ways of service and loyalty, and especially in the future that Nobunaga.

Kaguya, sensing a growing uneasiness, took another step towards Nobunaga. "You don't act as usual," he said, frowning. "Normally, you have everything under control. But... Today, you don't look like yourself." His voice was full of confusion, as if he didn't know how to express what he felt. "Is something wrong with you, Nobunaga-sama?"

Nobunaga slowly turned his head toward Kaguya, his gaze still piercing, but with a tinge of weariness in it. He was silent for a moment, looking at Kaguya with a faint smile. "Who knows?" he replied with a slight indifference in his tone, as if that question didn't have a clear answer.

Kaguya, noticing that strange distance in Nobunaga, couldn't help but mention what had been weighing on his mind for the past few days. "It's Senji-dono's absence, right?" Kaguya didn't need to say much more; the atmosphere of the clan had changed since he left, and Nobunaga, so close to him, was no longer the same without him around. "The tension is palpable. Something is missing in the air."

Nobunaga took a deep breath, his expression taking a grumpy one again. "You are right," he admitted. "Senji won't be with us until the beginning of next year. During that time, Nagao Kagetora must consolidate his position as leader of the Uesugi Clan." His tone hardened slightly, as if he were regaining some of his usual firmness.

Joetsu City

Some time later, exactly a week and three days.

The military campaign led by Nagao Kagetora was advancing with determination towards the other part of the city, where Takada Castle was located, now home to his older brother, Harukage. The reason for the trip was none other than to overthrow the current leader of the Uesugi Clan, after a period of intense training in which Nagao had prepared arduously alongside Senji Muramasa. For seven days, the two fought relentlessly, fine-tuning every technique and perfecting every movement. After two days of recovery, on the third day of the week, they set out on horseback, accompanied by five hundred loyal samurai.

Nagao rode in front, with a smile of triumph, and beside him, Senji Muramasa, whose sharp gaze calmly scanned the horizon as he chatted with the young leader.

"It's been amazing to have you as a training partner! I have improved my skills tremendously, especially with my naginata!" exclaimed Nagao, drawing a wide smile, beaming with satisfaction.

Senji bowed his head in a gesture of respect, his moon-like eyes reflecting serenity. "It is an honor to be of assistance, Nagao-sama."

Nagao let out a slight laugh, an expression of joy that he didn't usually show easily. "Do you really not consider serving under my command rather than staying with Nobunaga?" he joked, though deep down there was a hint of desire in his question.

It was a pity that Oda Nobunaga had not completely yielded to Senji Muramasa; Nagao had to accept the condition of his ally. So, in the remaining three months of the year, he would make the most of the presence of the moon-eyed boy before he returned to Nobunaga's service.

Upon reaching the vicinity of Takada Castle, they encountered an opposing military force, ready to block Nagao's advance. Harukage's vassals had hastily assembled to defend the territory, and from a distance, a hail of arrows darkened the sky, heading towards Kagetora's campaign.

Nagao felt a shiver of excitement run through his body. His eyes filled with a wild intensity, a restrained madness that seemed to have been released at once. "Hahaha! They will be the first to see how much I have improved thanks to my training with Senji!" he exclaimed with a euphoria that bordered on the sick.

With a rallying cry, Nagao raised his naginata, bright and glowing in the daylight, and swung it with enormous force. The move generated a powerful blizzard that deflected the rain of arrows, causing them to fall harmlessly to the ground.

Another volley of arrows approached almost immediately, but Nagao, with impeccable accuracy and extraordinary strength, executed a second blow, generating another gust of wind that scattered the arrows as if they were dry leaves.

"This will be boring if they only dare to attack from a distance," he muttered dismissively, staring at the enemy army on the other side of the field.

Senji stood beside him, his face impassive. He had nothing to do for the moment; I knew this was Nagao's personal show. The army behind them stood firm, waiting for orders, but Nagao had already given them clear instructions: she wanted to show off, to prove her power before anyone else intervened.

Nagao took a couple of steps forward, turning his naginata masterfully, leaving a trail of biting wind around him. "They're going to die!" he shouted, his voice echoing like thunder, clear and defiant. "Face me like the samurai you are, stupid! Today, the Uesugi Clan will meet their true leader!"

Senji observed the scene with serene eyes, not missing any detail.

Harukage's vassals, enraged and determined to protect their lord, advanced in waves toward Nagao Kagetora. Weapons glittered in the sun as an avalanche of swords and spears hovered over her, screaming with determination. It was a sight that would make any ordinary warrior tremble: to face hundreds of samurai with nothing but their own naginata.

But for Nagao Kagetora, this was not a battle, but a game.

"Is this all they have?" he exclaimed with a deafening laugh, his eyes glistening with a mixture of madness and ecstasy.

With fluid, precise movements, he swirled his naginata, creating a whirlwind of biting wind around him. Each sweep of the gun shattered the enemy's defenses, leaving bodies crumbling in its wake like fallen leaves in autumn. Screams of pain mingled with the sound of metal colliding, and blood splattered the ground, painting it dark red.

A samurai, full of courage or perhaps despair, rushed at her with a war cry. The blade of his katana descended in a perfect arc, but before he reached his target, Nagao dodged with feline grace and cut off his head in one blow, causing his helmet to roll across the ground. The body, inert, fell seconds later.

"Come on, more! Don't keep me waiting!" shouted Nagao, her voice filled with mockery and suppressed rage. The look of amusement on his face grew darker with each falling enemy.

Harukage's samurai hesitated, stumbling over each other as they realized the magnitude of what they were facing. Some backed away, fear beginning to invade their hearts as they saw how this woman, who was supposed to be their enemy, was annihilating them as if they were mere insects.

"Has Harukage sent his weakest men? Look at them, trembling as if they were already dead!" Nagao shouted in contempt as he brandished his blood-spattered naginata.

Senji Muramasa, a few steps behind her, watched the carnage with a cold, calculating expression. I knew I didn't need to intervene. This was Nagao's bloody dance, and she was enjoying every moment. The soldiers under Kagetora also stood motionless, watching in silence, aware that their leader needed no help.

With a final twist, Nagao leapt forward, digging the tip of his naginata into the ground and creating a shockwave that knocked down several enemies around him. Those who were still standing hesitated, terror reflected on their faces.

"They have no escape! Today will be his end!" he proclaimed, raising his naginata to the sky, as if defying the gods themselves.

.

.

.

The terrain had become a killing field. The green grass was now drenched in blood, and the metallic smell of battle permeated the air. Nearly two hundred bodies lay strewn like broken dolls, their faces frozen in expressions of horror and surprise. Those who were still alive looked in disbelief at Nagao Kagetora, who stood erect, her naginata dripping blood as she breathed deeply, a wild smile curving her lips.

"Do you really still think you have a chance?" asked Nagao, in a mocking, almost maternal tone, as if she were speaking to stubborn children. He took a couple of steps forward, crushing the shattered armor of one of the fallen under his feet. "I see fear in their eyes, but also that spark of stubbornness that doesn't allow them to retreat."

A group of younger samurai, probably newly promoted to Harukage's service, clenched their jaws and adjusted their grips. The leader of the group, a middle-aged man with scars on his face; He stepped forward and raised his sword, pointing at it.

"You will not be the heir to our clan as long as we have breath in our bodies!" she shouted angrily, her companions raising their swords in unison in a desperate attempt to boost morale. "We are samurai of the Uesugi Clan! We don't fall for a girl, no matter how skilled she may be!"

Nagao let out a laugh that echoed like thunder on the battlefield. "A girl, you say?" he murmured, his eyes shining with a dangerous gleam. "Alright, then I'll let you try your luck against this 'little girl'. But I assure you that this will be your last breath."

With a swift and agile motion, Nagao swung his naginata over his head, creating a swirl of wind that pushed back those closest to him. Before they could react, I was already upon them. The blade of his naginata moved like lightning, cutting through the armor of the first samurai, splitting him in two with terrifying precision. Blood splattered his face, but Nagao was unfazed; instead, he smiled more intensely.

The others rushed towards her, but their attacks were clumsy and desperate, the product of fear. Nagao dodged easily, his movements a deadly dance that combined strength and grace. With each turn of his weapon, more and more men fell, their bodies crumbling instantly.

The leader of the group tried to take advantage of the distraction and attacked from a blind angle, throwing a straight slash into Nagao's back. But she, anticipating the blow, turned in the blink of an eye and blocked the attack with the back of her naginata, her eyes fixed on his.

"You had guts to try," she whispered, almost approvingly, before digging the tip of her naginata into his abdomen and lifting it into the air like a trophy. "But you were also a fool to think that you could defeat me."

With a jerky motion, he tossed his body aside, leaving a trail of blood in the air. The few samurai who were still standing looked at the scene in terror. The stubbornness that had kept them fighting completely crumbled at the sight of their leader so easily defeated.

"If any of you wish to continue, I will be happy to follow this game," Nagao declared, raising her naginata and pointing it at the few survivors. "But know this: I will not stop until the last of you falls or kneels before your true leader."

Silence fell over the battlefield. The samurai, staring blankly, dropped their weapons one by one. It was not cowardice, but the acceptance of reality: there was no victory possible against the fury of Nagao Kagetora, who, at fourteen, had become a monster feared by his own clan.

Senji Muramasa watched silently, with his arms folded, a slight gleam of admiration in his eyes. Nagao's brutality and talent were exceptional.

"Nagao-sama," he murmured calmly, stepping forward. "It looks like their fun is over."

Nagao, breathing heavily and his face splattered with blood, nodded, slowly lowering his weapon. "Yes, Senji... But this is just the beginning. Now let's go for Harukage."

With that statement, she turned around and began to walk towards Takada Castle, as the few surviving samurai stepped aside, opening the way for the true heiress of the Uesugi Clan.

Takada Castle

The road to Takada Castle was shrouded in tense silence, interrupted only by the sound of the footsteps of the samurai accompanying Nagao Kagetora. The warriors defending the castle crowded near the entrance, watching the young man leading the group with pale faces. From a distance, they could only see a 'boy' with long white hair with black spots, soaked in dried blood and dirt. His eyes, pale green like winter ice, shone with an intensity that sent shivers down the spine of every guard present.

Many of them exchanged looks of confusion and fear. Who was this young man? His clothes and bearing were unusual for an ordinary samurai, and the way he walked, with absolute calmness, only increased the pressure on his chests, as if the air was getting heavier. Some of the younger samurai began to whisper, trying to find courage among themselves.

"Is it ... Perhaps the heir to another clan?" muttered one of the guards, his voice trembling.

"I do not know," replied another, clenching the hilt of his sword. "But look at his eyes... There's no doubt it's dangerous."

Indecision reigned among them. It was an unpleasant choice: defend the castle and risk a miserable death, or allow it in and face the wrath of its leader, Harukage. However, the young man's sense of imminent doom caused them to make the decision quickly.

They valued their lives more than loyalty to the leader of the Uesugi Clan, Harukage.

The samurai, one by one, began to lower their weapons, making a small corridor for the white-haired young man. Their heads bowed slightly, in respect or perhaps fear. They did not move from their positions as they watched as the young man advanced alone into the castle, leaving the five hundred samurai who were still waiting patiently for him in the courtyard.

As he walked, one of the older samurai observed the young man closely, trying to discern some detail that would give him clues to his identity. He leaned slightly towards his companion and whispered:

"It's strange... his countenance is fierce, but... There is something delicate about his face. As if it were..."

"Like what?" his companion interrupted him.

The veteran paused, his eyes narrowing. "Like I'm a girl."

The other samurai laughed nervously. "Don't kid, who would send a girl to lead a military campaign like this?"

"Whoever it is," the veteran murmured, "I prefer not to find out. I just know that if that boy — or girl — decides to stand up to us, we won't stand a chance."

Nagao Kagetora, oblivious to their conversations, moved forward determinedly, ignoring the stares and whispers. For her, it didn't matter how she was perceived. He had only one goal: to come face-to-face with his brother, Harukage, and claim what was rightfully his.

When he reached the doors of the main hall, he pushed both leaves, causing them to burst wide with a thunder. The few servants and guards inside the hall stepped back, surprised by the strength of whom, at first glance, looked like a young man.

"Harukage!" exclaimed Nagao, her voice echoing with authority. "Your time as leader of the Uesugi Clan is over."

A murmur of amazement spread through the room. Those present exchanged incredulous looks. Who was this young man who dared to challenge the clan leader with such audacity?

Harukage, sitting in his elevated place, squinted at the newcomer. He frowned at the sight of the figure of the 'young man', his naginata dripping with blood and his battle-stained clothes.

"Nagao?" asked Harukage with a mixture of contempt and curiosity. "And why do you think you can come here and make demands as if you were my equal?"

Nagao smiled arrogantly, turning his naginata once more and pointing directly at Harukage.

"I am your nightmare," he replied coldly, "and right now, your position as leader will be taken into my hands."

A collective sigh ran through the room, followed by absolute silence. The bewilderment was palpable.

Harukage rose from his seat, his expression oscillating between bewilderment and fury. "My younger brother has the nerve to challenge me for leadership... You, who have not yet tasted the weight of responsibility, think you are ready to carry the banner of the Uesugi Clan?"

Nagao Kagetora cracked a dangerous smile, her green eyes shining with an icy flash. He turned his naginata in an elegant motion, letting the light from the torches reflect off the bloodstained blade. "Challenge you? I don't see this as a challenge, but as an affirmation. The river of blood I left behind me should be enough to open your eyes, Harukage. The new leader of the Uesugi Clan is already here, and it is you who have not been able to see him."

The murmurs of those present died down immediately, as if an invisible hand had drowned out all sound in the room. The tension in the air was palpable; The atmosphere was charged with the promise of an imminent outbreak of violence, like the moment just before a storm unleashes its fury.

Harukage extended a hand to one of his servants, who, with trembling hands, handed him a sheathed katana. The servant drew back immediately, bowing as he hurried away, aware that the battle he was about to begin surpassed any engagement he had ever witnessed before.

Harukage drew his katana, letting the blade reflect the light of the torches. The clanging sound echoed through the room, a prelude to the violence that would break out in the next few seconds. "Nagao," he spat out the name dismissively, "it seems that I have been too lenient with you. You've lost your mind if you think you can beat me here, in my own hall."

Nagao Kagetora did not immediately respond. Instead, he adopted a relaxed posture, holding the naginata in one hand, as if the weight of the weapon were negligible. A mocking smile was drawn on his lips. "Indulgent... No, Harukage. You have only been blind to the truth. Today, I will show you why the leadership of the Uesugi Clan never belonged to you."

Without further words, they both threw themselves at each other. Harukage attacked first, his katana tracing a downward arc aimed at Nagao's neck. The speed of his attack was formidable, but Nagao deflected it with a swift flick of his naginata, deflecting the blade with such precision that sparks flew into the air.

Harukage took a step back, surprised at the ease with which his punch had been blocked. He didn't have time to react before Nagao counterattacked, the naginata's blade cutting through the air with a high-pitched whistle. Harukage barely managed to raise his katana in time to block the attack, but the force behind the blow caused him to stagger backwards.

"Is that all you have?" sneered Nagao, moving forward with a series of swift strikes, each movement chained together with impressive fluidity. The naginata spun and slashed in different directions, forcing Harukage back as he frantically blocked.

The sound of steel colliding echoed throughout the room. The servants and guards watched the battle wide-eyed, unable to look away. They had never seen a confrontation like this: Harukage, known for his prowess with the sword, seemed to be outclassed in every way by the white-haired young man.

Harukage gritted his teeth, letting out a scream of fury as he lashed out with a swift thrust into Nagao's torso. However, Nagao turned his body gracefully, dodging the attack by millimeters and counterattacking with a low sweep of his naginata. The blade grazed the ground before hitting Harukage's side, who barely managed to leap back to avoid a deep cut.

A trickle of blood appeared on her kimono, a sign that the blow had been more than just a brush. Harukage looked at the wound, disbelief painted on his face. "Impossible... It can't be that you, a child, put me at a disadvantage."

"You are wrong," Nagao replied in an icy voice. "I'm not a kid, and I never was. I am the true heir of the Uesugi Clan, and this is your last chance to understand it."

With a wild scream, Harukage charged forward, swinging his katana with both hands. The ground trembled beneath his feet as he threw a series of swift and powerful punches. The leaves glowed, creating flashes that blinded observers momentarily. But Nagao, with an inhuman calmness, blocked every blow, his movements precise and efficient, as if he could predict every attack before it happened.

Finally, when Harukage attempted a downward slash, Nagao stopped him with his naginata, the two weapons intertwined in a stalemate. Their eyes met, a silent battle of wills as he pushed with all his might. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

But then, Nagao changed his expression. His lips curled into a confident smile, and with one swift motion, he slid his naginata down, breaking Harukage's balance. Before he could react, Nagao made a graceful turn and threw a straight kick into Harukage's stomach, sending him to the ground with a thud.

Harukage fell backwards, gasping for air. The katana slipped from his hands, falling to the side. When he tried to get up, the blade of the naginata was already pointing directly at his throat.

Nagao looked at him from above, breathing calm and looking cold as ice. "The leadership of the Uesugi Clan," he declared in a firm voice, "was never meant for one as weak as you, Harukage."

The silence that followed was absolute. The guards and servants watched in disbelief, unable to process what they had just witnessed. Harukage, the clan leader, lay defeated at the feet of the one who had believed to be his younger brother.

The hall was silent, the servants and guards watched without daring to move or even breathe hard. The tension in the air was palpable, as if time had stopped waiting for the final decision. Nagao slowly lifted the naginata, away from Harukage's neck, but not to offer him mercy. Instead, he pointed the blade at the ground in front of him, as if setting the stage for what was coming.

"You have two choices," Nagao continued, his voice low but clear, echoing through the room like distant thunder. "You can take back what little is left of your honor and commit harakiri right here. I will allow you a dignified death."

Harukage looked at her, his eyes filled with disbelief and fear. "And the other option?" he asked, although deep down he already knew the answer.

Nagao did not hesitate. His eyes, cold as the steel of his naginata, showed not a trace of compassion. "The other option is for me to end your life myself. Here and now, in front of our men. And your name will be remembered as that of the leader who fell to his own younger brother, unable to accept the truth."

Harukage swallowed, his face a mask of despair and shame. The katana he had dropped was only a few inches from his hand, but the weight of the choice he had to make was crushing. He tried to look at the faces of those present, looking for any hint of support, but found only somber expressions and avoided looks. No one would lift a finger to save him.

Nagao let out a sigh, as if he was losing his patience. "Decide now, Harukage. I have no time for your hesitations. Will you take your own life like a true samurai, or will you die like a coward at the hands of your own blood?"

The silence was broken only by the trembling of Harukage's breathing. With trembling hands, he reached for the katana on the ground, his fingers clutching the hilt as if it were his last hope for dignity. "Commit harakiri..." he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "It's the only way to save my honor..."

Nagao nodded with a slight nod, taking a step back to give him space. "Then do it," he ordered, without a trace of compassion in his tone. "And may your death serve as a reminder to anyone who questions my leadership."

Harukage looked at the blade of his katana, the reflection of his pale, sweaty face staring back at him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he raised his sword, preparing for the final act.

"Wait." Nagao's voice cut through the air like a sharp blade. Harukage opened his eyes, looking at her in bewilderment. Nagao had stepped forward, digging the tip of his naginata into the ground beside him. "It will not be enough," he said coldly. "I will be your kaishakunin."

Harukage was speechless. Nagao assuming the role of her enforcer was a final humiliation, but also an act of absolute control over her destiny. Trembling, he nodded silently, unable to say anything more.

Nagao held up the naginata, holding it with both hands. "Do so," he ordered.

With tears streaming down his face, Harukage tilted the katana towards his abdomen. He closed his eyes one last time, taking a deep breath. Then, with a gasp of pain, he plunged the blade into his belly.

The heart-rending sound of metal cutting flesh filled the hall, followed by a brief sigh of relief. In that instant, Nagao moved the naginata with the precision of an executioner, decapitating Harukage in a single clean blow. The head rolled on the ground, and the body fell forward, inert.

Nagao lowered his weapon, wiping the blood from the blade with a cloth before sheathing it. Then he turned to those present, his face serene and emotionless, as if none of this had been more than a necessary formality.

"Let all see and remember it," he declared in a firm voice. "As of today, I am the leader of the Uesugi Clan. And anyone who challenges my authority will face the same fate."

The servants and guards, still stunned, knelt in silence, accepting the new reality that had just been sealed with blood.

Nagao Kagetora walked with firm steps toward the exit of the hall, leaving behind her brother's corpse and a blood-stained scene. Her men, loyal and unperturbed, followed her without asking questions. There was no need for orders; Harukage's servants and warriors understood what they had to do: clean up the mess, remove any traces of the fratricidal battle, and accept the reality of a new leadership.

Night fell as Harukage's men stood in the hall, washing the stained floor with water and salt, and carrying off the remains of their former master. Torches lit up the air, but the air was heavy with a solemn silence, broken only by the whisper of their movements and the pounding of the rain that had begun soon after the duel. It was as if the heavens themselves were weeping over Harukage's fate, shedding tears upon the earth in mourning his fall.

Nagao returned to Kasugayama Castle with the night completely settled. The rain, incessant, soaked the streets and the path to the castle, creating streams that flowed along the cobbled paths. The doors of the castle opened before her, and the figures of the guards bowed respectfully, wet to the bone but not daring to seek shelter until she was safe under the roof. The sound of his sandals echoed over the stone floor as he entered, leaving behind a trail of water dripping from his soaked cloak.

That night, Nagao did not sleep. He spent hours in his chamber, watching the rain pound on the paper windows, his mind sharp as the blade of his naginata, planning the future of the Uesugi Clan under his command. The silence of the castle was disturbed only by the distant rumble of thunder, like the echo of the battle he had just fought.

By dawn, the rain had not stopped. A gray blanket covered the skies, enveloping the Kasugayama region in a melancholy gloom. Clan men, servants, and generals gathered in the main hall of the castle to witness the naming ceremony. It was an event expected by all, but the rain, relentless and continuous, seemed to be a bad omen for some.

Nagao Kagetora advanced to the center of the hall, dressed in a black ceremonial kimono, adorned with the emblem of the Uesugi Clan in pure white. His long, rain-soaked hair fell heavy on his shoulders, but he showed no signs of fatigue. His eyes were like steel, cold and determined, as he looked into the faces of those present, each of them acknowledging his undisputed authority.

An elderly monk, in charge of carrying out the ritual, stepped forward. "Today, on this rain-marked day, nature itself seems to share our mourning and leadership transition. But it's also a day of rebirth," he proclaimed, his voice echoing through the room. "Nagao Kagetora, who has proven his right by force and strategy, renounces his name and takes that of our lineage. From this moment on, you will be known as Uesugi Masatora, the undisputed leader of the Uesugi Clan."

The murmur of those present filled the hall as the monk placed a sacred scroll before her. Nagao, now Masatora, took it with both hands, raising it above his head as a symbol of acceptance. The rain hit the roof of the castle harder, creating a deafening sound that made everyone hold their breath.

"My name is Uesugi Masatora," she declared, her voice cutting through the air like lightning. "And under this name, I will lead the Uesugi Clan into a new era of glory and power. Those who follow me will prosper. Those who defy me will fall."

The generals and vassals bowed deeply, recognizing his new name and the power he now held. None dared to question his authority, for Harukage's spilled blood was still fresh in his memories. Masatora lowered the scroll, turning toward the rain pounding on the doors of the room.

"May the rain bear witness to this rebirth," she muttered to herself, barely audible to those who were closest. "And may the Uesugi Clan flourish like never before under my rule."

The ceremony ended silently, with the figure of Masatora standing in front of everyone, as the storm continued, as an echo of the internal struggle that had been left behind. There was a change in the air, a sense of closure, and at the same time, of a new beginning.

Side Story: Ambition

The sun was beginning to set, tinting the sky in warm colors, while the sound of the clash of steel echoed within the Kasugayama Castle dojo. In this space dedicated to samurai training, the wooden walls absorbed the echo of the movements, and the tatami floor creaked slightly with each step.

Nagao Kagetora, skilled with his naginata, was confronted by Senji Muramasa, who slid his katana with deadly precision. Both fought with an intensity that showed not only their combat prowess, but also their indomitable spirits.

Nagao, naginata in hand, launched swift and accurate attacks. The long blade cut through the air with ease, looking for his opponent's weak spots. Every move was an extension of his will, controlling the flow of battle with the dexterity gained from years of experience.

Senji, meanwhile, moved with an eerie calmness, his katana slicing through the air nimbly, anticipating his opponent's every attack. Despite Nagao's swiftness, Senji seemed to always be one step ahead, his sword slipping through every block and counterattack with dangerous elegance. Every cut he made with his katana reflected lethal precision, as if he were dancing with death itself.

The battle continued, the sound of brass crashing and echoing throughout the dojo, until, finally, they both stepped back, breathing heavily, but showing no signs of giving up. Senji wiped the sweat from his forehead as he watched Nagao, who was smiling with a mixture of respect and satisfaction.

"Wow... you're really that good," Nagao said, lowering his naginata and looking at Senji with an evaluative look. "You have an impressive skill. Worthy of making you my rival."

Senji, also catching his breath, put away his katana calmly. "You are not just any opponent. Your skill with the naginata is formidable."

They both took a short break, taking a deep breath as the sound of battle slowly faded, and the evening light filtered through the windows of the dojo.

Nagao, intrigued, watched Senji more carefully. "Can you tell me what you're looking for, Nobunaga?"

Senji didn't hesitate in his answer. With a serene look, he said, "The unification of Japan."

Nagao raised an eyebrow, surprised at how clearly Senji had responded. For a moment, the words hung in the air, as if the wind itself had stopped inside the dojo.

"The unification of Japan..." Nagao repeated, with a gleam of interest in his eyes. "That... That sounds like a very... ambitious."

Senji nodded slowly. "So ambitious that I didn't want to lose you as an ally for that goal."

Nagao folded his arms, his mind processing the idea. Nobunaga's ambition resonated with her in a way she hadn't anticipated. Unify Japan... A country fractured by strife and chaos, being transformed into a single strong nation. Could it really be possible?

"Interesting...," Nagao muttered, her voice full of suppressed emotion. Unify Japan, huh? That would change everything. I wonder what that future would be like. It's not a small dream, Senji."

Senji smiled slightly, his gaze fixed on the horizon that could be seen from the windows of the dojo. "It will be fun to see how it develops. The only thing I can assure you is that it will not be easy. But that's what makes it interesting."

Nagao nodded, feeling a strange emotion burn within her. A future full of challenges and opportunities, and perhaps, on that path, a place for her too. The idea of the unification of Japan sparked in him a spark of excitement that had been dormant for a long time.

"Funny, huh?" Nagao said, with a smile on her lips. "You've given me something to think about, Senji. Perhaps this future, that of unification, is exactly what the country needs."

They both stood there, silently, letting the cool evening breeze caress their faces. As the sun set, the idea of a united Japan began to come to life, driven by the desires of Nobunaga and the allies who, like Senji, believed in that future.