The vast night stretched on, the evening wind howling as it swept through the dense grove outside the shrine and stirred the leaves into a restless chorus.
Shinji had spoken, and he continued.
"It's not just Sagami and Suruga I'm worried about."
His crimson demon eyes, now carrying an increasingly vivid, living quality, narrowed slightly.
"The Tōno yōkai chose this moment to sweep south. On the surface, their target seems to be the Twenty-Three's shrines. My lesser demons wouldn't dare lie, and they have no reason to. But if all they wanted was to drive out a few small yōkai, there'd be no need to send three high-ranking demons who have already reached Essence Transformation."
"Using a butcher's cleaver to kill a chicken, either the Tōno yōkai are complete fools, or they have another objective entirely."
Kikyō's expression remained unchanged. Only her crimson lips parted slightly.
"The Shikon no Tama."
She spoke the name Shinji had left unspoken.
"Mn."
Even though the dark spirit within the Shikon no Tama had long since been sealed and brought under control by Kikyō, an artifact of that magnitude, a sacred treasure of its class, was like a bonfire burning in the dead of night.
It could not be completely hidden. More and more factions now knew it rested in Kaede's Village. The Imagawa knew. The Hōjō knew. The Uesugi knew. Kyōto knew. Some were interested. Some were not.
And the land of Tōno, lying north of Musashi in the far northeastern reaches of Mutsu, its yōkai… they might very well know as well.
Though an ordinary high-ranking yōkai was little more than target practice for Kikyō, in this era where true daiyōkai were scarce, such demons already represented a considerable level of combat power.
And yōkai were not like humans. Even though Shinji and Kikyō had driven back Kidōmaru and the Tsuchigumo one after another, earning widespread renown among mortals, many yōkai who had not witnessed those battles with their own eyes still felt the urge to try their luck. Even if, in most cases, trying their luck meant losing their lives.
Most yōkai were manifestations of corruption and grudge, not reason.
"If they're after the Shikon no Tama, then the attacks on Sagami and Suruga are a diversion," Shinji reasoned. "Draw me away from Kaede's Village, then send another force to strike here. Or lure both of us out and besiege the village while we're gone…"
It wasn't impossible. A lack of reason had never meant they were incapable of cunning.
Kikyō folded her hands upon her lap. Her white uwagi and crimson hakama traced a perfectly upright posture in the candlelight, waist slender, shoulders and back straight. She looked like a sacred statue enshrined within the hall. Only this statue's eyes held the light of the living.
"Let them come," she said. Her tone was as faint as if she were remarking that the moonlight tonight was pleasant. Confidence brimming. "The Shikon no Tama is in my hands. No matter how many yōkai come, I can exorcise them all."
It was no boast. At full output, Kikyō's spirit-cleansing arrows could now grievously wound even a phenomenon-class daiyōkai like the Tsuchigumo, at the Thirteenth Transformation or beyond, severing a limb beyond immediate regeneration. Ordinary high-ranking yōkai were, in theory, one arrow each. Even a whole swarm.
But Shinji still shook his head.
"I'm not worried about the yōkai." He looked at her. "I'm worried about the humans."
Kikyō's confidence faltered, just slightly. There was no denying it, this was indeed her "weakness." Reiryoku suppressed demons and monsters, but it was not designed to be used against humans.
She could, of course, kill humans with it, channel enough spiritual power into a raging storm and she could tear through fortresses and topple encampments. But it could not achieve mass suppression through the same purifying effect. And she would never do such a thing. Besides, no matter how vast her reiryoku, her physical stamina remained finite.
And let no one forget: the decree from Kyōto had long since been issued. Every daimyō in every province now held the nominal authority to "lawfully purge demons." Kaede's Village had Hōjō Ujiyasu's certification of divine status as a talisman of protection, true but the documents had been sent to Kyōto, and no official approval had returned yet.
Until then, in the eyes of human law, Kaede's Village was still an ordinary settlement. A village that harbored yōkai. Not the seat of a recognized deity.
Kikyō could not raise a hand against humans.
If Shinji left, if Kikyō had to face the pressure of both yōkai and men alone, he could not set his heart at ease.
Just then, a voice sounded from the side hall.
"I can help."
The voice was muffled, muted by the layer of sealing talismans pasted across the door.
Naoe Kanetsugu.
Behind the paper door, the adjutant general of Echigo, who had been confined for over ten days, had finally spoken up on her own.
"What did you say?"
Shinji turned his head toward the side hall. Through the gap in the paper door, half of Naoe Kanetsugu's face was visible.
Her deep violet hair had mostly come loose. Her white jinbaori was crumpled beyond recognition. But those eyes of hers were still sharp, so sharp it was unsettling.
"You're short on hands to stabilize the rear. I can do it."
Naoe Kanetsugu's voice struggled to stay calm.
"Musashi's internal administration. The people's hearts. Territorial management. I studied all of these things in detail when I followed my lord south. I know them better than anyone here."
"I can help the miko manage these matters. If a human army really does come, I can't guarantee I'll repel them but relying on the people and the terrain, holding them back is not a problem."
She paused.
"Besides, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."
Her reasoning was sound. The preset "death and resurrection" mechanism, having been seen through by Shinji, could no longer be triggered. She was trapped here with nowhere to go. Better to find something useful to do than sit around growing mold all day.
"More importantly—" The corner of Naoe Kanetsugu's mouth tugged, barely qualifying as a smile. "You're keeping me here. I ought to show some value, don't you think? Otherwise, what are you keeping me for? Decoration?"
"You can't possibly just be doing it to spite Echigo, right?"
…Actually, you've hit the mark pretty squarely there.
Shinji looked at her for a few seconds, then turned to Kikyō. Kikyō offered no objection. In fact, she gave the faintest nod, so slight, but he caught it.
"Fine."
Shinji rose to his feet, walked to the side hall door, and reached up to peel off the sealing talismans. The paper door slid open. Naoe Kanetsugu stood inside, her deep violet hair cascading loose, her clothes disheveled but her back ramrod straight.
"Conditions."
Shinji raised a single finger.
"You only handle governance and coordination,Musashi's administrative affairs, Liaison with the Hōjō clan, The villagers' peace of mind, These are yours but you're not permitted to leave a two-km radius of Kaede's Village."
"Beyond that range, this thing on you—"
He patted Naoe Kanetsugu's shoulder. A thread of blood mist, impossibly fine, seeped from his fingertip into her collar and spread along her collarbone.
Naoe Kanetsugu's entire body went rigid. She could feel that wisp of blood mist coiling like a snake beneath the skin of her neck.
"—will detonate."
Shinji withdrew his hand. "And it'll be loud. It'll take every last drop of blood in your body with it."
Resonating with blood. Using blood as his eyes. Driven by his own yōki, he was capable of such a thing.
Naoe Kanetsugu's face went pale for an instant. But in the end, she nodded. She'd never believed she could escape anyway. After all these days, she hadn't even been able to manage killing herself.
"Also… Momiji and Botan will assist Kikyō with the barrier and combat-level defense. The three of you will work together."
"I'll be keeping an eye on things here as well."
He looked at Kikyō.
Kikyō rose and slung her longbow across her back.
"Mn."
One word. Enough.
Shinji fastened Muramasa at his waist. The crimson demon mask coalesced in his palm, though Muramasa was currently unusable, he still brought it along out of habit. He walked toward the entrance of the main hall. The autumn night wind rushed in from outside, stirring his pale, flowing hair.
Moonlight fell upon the torii gate's plaque, the newly replaced one, still faintly fragrant with the scent of fresh wood.
"All your 'friends' are here."
Kikyō's voice came from behind him. Not a reminder. Just a confirmation.
The stones. The trees. The walls. The hoe. All those mundane objects at max Affection, they were indeed all still here. And his blood as well. If anything unusual occurred, Shinji would sense it in an instant through those "max Affection" presences scattered throughout the village. And then, with the Lightning-Muscle Body's extreme speed, he would come racing back.
"Same as before," Shinji said, settling the demon mask over his face and pushing open the main hall's great door. "I'll deal with what's happening in Sagami and Suruga, and take care of as much as I can in one sweep. Reduce the threats at our back."
"Wait for word from me."
He stepped across the threshold.
Beneath the demon mask, his crimson eyes flared to life in the moonlight. Violet arcs of lightning exploded from beneath his feet, shattering the edge of the stone steps. Blood mist spread from his body, unfurling behind him in a deep crimson contrail. Like a shooting star, yet roaring with thunder.
The gray figure became a streak of violet light, plunging into the darkness of the autumn night.
Stepping forth. Rushing onward.
Alone.
Toward a battlefield of demons, three hundred kms away.