Three days.
It took Shinji a full three days to cover the distance from those mountains to the outside, crossing several mountain ranges.
Not that he was slow on his feet, but there were too many 'roadblocks' along the way.
The Shikon Jewel's aura was like a signal tower that never shut down. Every stretch of the way drew in another batch of yokai.
Big and small, strong and weak, solitary and in groups.
Every variety you could name.
Most came for the Shikon Jewel, but some were just passing by and got attracted, and others came to see what all the screaming was about and then ended up doing the screaming themselves.
Anyway, it was hard to stomach.
Shinji had lost count of how many he'd killed.
He only knew,
[Cursed Blade Muramasa: Current Affection 72]
Three days, and the weapon's affection had gone up twenty-two points.
The efficiency wasn't exactly high, but it was steady.
And right now.
Now.
"Almost there."
Shinji stood on a mountaintop, looking down at the plains in the distance.
The plains beneath his gaze were vast and boundless, a completely different sight from the continuous mountains he'd just left. Under the azure sky, a stretch of lush green, with grass swaying in the wind. At the very edge of his field of vision, he could make out several dozen thatched huts clustered together, forming a village. It wasn't large, in fact, it was quite small, maybe a few dozen households but it was the most common type of human settlement in this age.
The village had a wooden palisade around its perimeter. On the fence hung some evil-repelling talismans, glowing faintly in the sun.
In the center of the village stood a shrine. A red torii gate stood out clearly, framed by the green leaves of a massive sacred tree.
That was within the borders of Musashi Province.
The destination the old man, the head of the demon-slaying clan, had spoken of.
And the place where Kikyō was.
"Finally here."
Shinji breathed a sigh of relief.
He'd barely rested these three days. A demon warrior's body might not feel tiredness, but the consumption of demonic energy was very real.
If he kept this up, even if the yokai didn't get him, he'd drain himself dry.
He walked down from the mountaintop, heading towards the village.
As he walked, he observed the surroundings.
The grass on the plains was much sparser than in the mountains. The field of vision was open, good for ranged attacks.
That wasn't good news for him.
Because suddenly, a familiar sense of crisis shot from his spine straight to the top of his head.
It was that kind of,
Very familiar feeling.
His body reacted before his thoughts.
His left hand drew the blade in an instant.
The blade swept through the air, flinging the lingering demon blood from its surface, forming a dark red mist in front of him.
The next moment, a streak of white light pierced through the blood mist.
It was an arrow.
No, not an ordinary arrow.
The arrow was wreathed in glaring white light, the light thick with spiritual energy.
A purification arrow.
This was…
Shinji's pupils contracted slightly.
He recognized this attack.
Not because he'd seen it before, but because he'd 'taken' it before.
This was also, unmistakably, that streak of white light that had fallen from the sky three months ago, in his first week after transmigration, that had nearly blown his head off. That purification arrow!
That arrow had hit him in the left shoulder, blowing his entire arm to pieces.
Even though a demon warrior's body could regenerate, the searing pain of that spiritual power burn was still fresh in his memory.
A purification arrow.
The specialized ranged attack of shrine maidens and exorcists.
Infusing spiritual power into an arrow, dealing devastating damage to yokai.
"It really is this damn thing!"
Shinji cursed. Even though he'd already suspected that the one who shot that arrow back then was probably Kikyō, he hadn't even seen his enemy at the time, he still couldn't help but swear now.
Luckily, he'd anticipated it.
Even luckier, he'd already reacted.
His demon warrior body instinctively sidestepped.
The blood mist he'd flung out was his eye.
Through the mist, he clearly saw the arrow's trajectory, predicted its landing point.
Left, half a step.
Down, duck.
The purification arrow whistled past, three inches above his right shoulder. The residual spiritual energy on the arrow still made his skin feel a wave of scorching heat.
Too close.
If he'd been even a fraction of a second slower, his head would have a clean hole through it.
The arrow embedded itself in an old locust tree behind him. White light exploded, and the entire tree turned to ash in an instant.
Shinji looked at the pile of ash and swallowed.
"Same recipe, same familiar taste."
Back then, he was almost blown away.
Now…
Well, he'd still get blown away.
Spiritual power's restraint against yokai was etched into instinct. Even though he was now a Five Changes demon warrior, if one of those purification arrows hit a vital spot, he'd still be done for.
But
"Dodging it isn't hard."
Shinji waved his left hand, flinging more demon blood from Muramasa's blade, forming a bloody perception net around him.
With this blood as a medium, he could clearly sense every change around him.
Including the flow of air.
Including fluctuations in spiritual power.
Including…
The second arrow was coming.
This one was faster.
Shinji didn't hesitate. Demonic energy surged beneath his feet.
[Phantom Step].
His form vanished from the spot.
The purification arrow pierced his afterimage, embedded itself in the ground, and blasted a crater two feet wide.
Shinji was already thirty meters away.
He kept moving forward, continuously flinging demon blood, weaving his perception net.
Third arrow.
Move left three feet. Dodge.
Fourth arrow.
Lean back. The arrow grazed past the tip of his nose.
Fifth arrow.
This one was trickier, a curved shot from an angle above. If he dodged along the normal trajectory, he'd definitely run into the arrow's descending path.
But Shinji wasn't normal.
Through the blood mist, he saw the arrow's entire trajectory.
[Phantom Step] activated again.
He teleported directly beneath the arrow, waited for it to fly past overhead, then kept advancing.
The distance to the village entrance was shrinking fast.
One hundred meters.
Eighty meters.
Sixty meters.
[Cursed Blade Muramasa: Mood 'Excited'. It conveys a message to you: 'That human shooting the arrows is strong. Wants to taste her blood']
"Shut up."
Shinji said, annoyed.
"That human you can't mess with, and neither can I."
He kept dodging the continuous arrows, silently calculating the distance in his mind.
Forty meters.
Thirty meters.
Twenty meters
He glanced down at his chest.
The Shikon Jewel's glow had become noticeably brighter than before, its pale purple light nearly piercing through the cloth bundle and his armor.
Looked like his earlier guess was right. Even just getting close was enough.
Shinji felt a surge of joy.
But he didn't stop.
Because the sixth arrow was already on its way.
And this one…
The angle was different.
Not aimed at him, but at his...
Landing spot.
The exact place he was about to step.
This was a warning!
"Shit."
Shinji cursed under his breath, forcibly twisting his body in mid-air.
The move made his posture look terrible, but he successfully avoided the blast of spiritual energy residual from the ground impact.
He landed on a tree branch and caught his breath.
"Deadly aim."
He offered a sincere compliment.
Then he looked up, towards the direction the arrow had come from.
The shrine.
Behind the vermilion torii gate, on the stone steps, in front of the shrine hall.
A figure stood there.
White robes, red hakama, black hair like a waterfall.
Bow drawn, arrow nocked.
Even from this distance, Shinji could feel the calmness in that gaze, and the coldness.
That was
Kikyō.