he reason Hideyoshi Hashiba could not immediately rescue Kanbe'e was due to a complex interlocking of the desperate situation of the time and the intense paranoia of Nobunaga Oda.

  Since the whereabouts of the only witnesses—Kanbe'e’s retainers—were unknown, Nobunaga reached a harsh conclusion in his mind: “Kanbe'e was persuaded by Murashige. Master and servants alike have betrayed the Oda and defected to the Araki side. If I let him live, he will remain a fatal cancer in my rule over Harima.”

  To make matters worse, only poisonous false reports circulated by Murashige’s side reached the ears of Nobunaga and Hideyoshi: “The strategist has taken a liking to Arioka Castle and spends his nights in deep conversation with Lord Araki.”

  Furthermore, Hideyoshi himself was completely shackled.

  At the time, Hideyoshi was in the midst of a quagmire: the siege of Miki Castle, held by his greatest enemy in Harima, Nagaharu Bessho. This campaign, later known as the "Starvation of Miki," was a grueling, long-term siege against a fortress that refused to fall to direct assault.

  For Hideyoshi, who had lost his right hand in Kanbe'e, merely maintaining the front lines was a Herculean task. Threatened from behind by Murashige Araki’s rebellion, he did not have a fragment of military strength to spare for a rescue mission to Arioka.

  Hideyoshi believed in Kanbe'e’s innocence and repeatedly pleaded within the camp, "Kanbe'e is not that kind of man." However, once his lord Nobunaga had branded someone a "traitor," to speak of rescue was equivalent to pressing a blade against one's own throat, inviting the suspicion: “Are you also guilty of the same crime?” Hideyoshi could only shed tears of blood amidst his frustration and helplessness.

  Physical barriers also stood in the way. Arioka Castle was a "Sogamae"—a peerless fortress that swallowed the entire castle town within vast moats and walls. To head for a rescue with a small force into a sealed castle where even information on which darkness Kanbe'e was chained in was cut off was a recklessness akin to placing a ladder to the heavens.

  At the bottom of that despair, Kanbe'e lived.

  Fuji secretly pressed a small bundle, entrusted to her by her father Matazemon, into Kanbe'e’s palm.

  "Lord Kanbe'e... this was entrusted to me by my father."

  Unwrapping it with trembling fingertips, he found a scrap of paper stained with grime.

  “My Lord, please stay alive. We await you, refusing to retreat even a single step. —Zensuke, Tahe'e, Kurouemon.”

  The messy brushstrokes and blurred marks looked like the very tears they had shed.

  (They are alive. They have not abandoned me yet...)

  To Kanbe'e, who thought he was suspected by Nobunaga and isolated from the world, that short note became a piercing ray of intense light in the darkness. He pressed the paper firmly against his chest. His own tears soaked the message.

  Fuji, the daughter of Kato Matazemon, continued to bring high-quality food and medicine to Kanbe'e as he was eroded by hunger and disease. Each time, she cleaned the cell—thick with filth and the stench of death—with her small hands and carefully wiped Kanbe'e’s feverish body with a wrung cloth.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  Under Murashige's orders, Matazemon permitted his daughter only the minimum of charity—"Keep him neither alive nor dead"—hoping Kanbe'e would recant his loyalty sooner.

  Initially, Kanbe'e could not understand why this girl served him so devotedly. In the Warring States period, service was a contract that only existed in exchange for "master-servant relationships" or "rewards."

  Fuji simply continued to practice "altruistic love for one's neighbor" toward Kanbe'e. For a strategist who had always measured the world by "loss and gain" and "interests," this "unconditional love" struck his soul with a shock sharper than a sword's edge. It was inevitable that he would develop a deep interest in the teachings of the God Fuji believed in.

  "God is with us especially in the midst of suffering..."

  Between her nursing duties, Fuji spoke fragments of the scriptures.

  The Savior, Christ, who despite being the Son of God, was betrayed by friends, persecuted by the people, and finally suffered on the cross. His lonely figure strangely overlapped with Kanbe'e's own situation—alone in a dark prison, betrayed by his lord, and believed dead by his friends.

  "Even if the flesh perishes and is bound in a cage, the soul is free through God and is already saved... Is that your teaching?"

  For Kanbe'e, who was merely waiting for death, this perspective became a sturdy pillar that barely tethered his spirit to this world. A new value system—"Do not entrust your own worth to others"—that no one had ever taught him before. Kanbe'e found himself increasingly drawn into the depths of the words Fuji spoke.

  Before long, Fuji began to wear a compassionate smile even toward the mud-and-grime-covered Kanbe'e. When a single ray of light through the gaps in the bars framed her, she appeared to Kanbe'e as a holy being, not of this world.

  "Fuji..."

  Fuji took Kanbe'e’s hand, which had withered like a dead tree, and offered him a bowl of water.

  "There are times when you look like a Bodhisattva to me..."

  "I am unworthy of such words... Lord Kanbe'e, before Deus, I hold the name 'Maria'."

  Fuji said this and smiled gently, looking a little embarrassed.

  "Maria...?"

  "Yes. I wished to be like the Holy Mother, if only in name... I must take my leave for today."

  With that, Fuji smiled at Kanbe'e with a gaze like a goddess and left the dungeon.

  "Maria... Maria..."

  After Fuji left, Kanbe'e continued to mutter the name for some time.

  Kanbe'e began to wait for Fuji's arrival with a trembling soul. This was not a discarding of his pride as a once-coldhearted strategist. It was like a prayer, where a death row prisoner, not knowing if he would see tomorrow, desperately tried to protect the only entrance to "God" he had found in the darkness.

  However, contrary to the silence of the dungeon, a great tremor was running through the world above, driving Murashige Araki to despair.

  The two pillars of the "Nobunaga Encirclement Net" who had conspired with Murashige—Ukon Takayama and Kiyohide Nakagawa—suddenly surrendered to Nobunaga Oda.

  Nobunaga's method of appeasement was cruel and rational, truly fitting the name "Sixth Tenma-O" (Demon King). He gave Ukon, a Christian daimyo, an ultimatum:

  “If you do not surrender, I will slaughter every Bateren (missionary) and Christian in this land and burn every church to the ground.”

  For Ukon, this was a choice more painful than losing his own life. If he alone maintained his integrity as a samurai, tens of thousands of his fellow believers would be sent to hell. After an agony akin to vomiting blood, Ukon chose the path of being a shield for his faith and surrendered to Nobunaga. Responding to this, Kiyohide Nakagawa also defected back to the Oda.

  Murashige's agitation upon hearing this news was immeasurable. He was in a predicament as if his arms and legs had been torn off. His only remaining hope was the Mori reinforcements coming from the west.

  But this change in the situation became a further headwind for Kanbe'e.

  From Nobunaga's perspective, even the two mainstays had surrendered, yet Kanbe'e, who was supposed to have gone for negotiations, still had not returned.

  "Even Ukon has come back. If Kanbe'e does not, it must be because he has decided of his own will to share his fate with Murashige... That man, he dared to deceive me..."

  Ranmaru Mori, sitting beside Nobunaga, heard the Demon King’s mutterings once again...

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