The smile gradually disappeared. Mitsuba lowered her head, looking at Yoriichi before her with an expressionless face, her tone extremely calm.
"Elder Brother Yoriichi, I am not some useful tool. I also have my own dreams, places I want to go, and things I want to do.
I don't want to be Mitsuba who only belongs to the Tsugikuni household. I don't want to stay my whole life in that city where I can see the borders at a glance, wasting my life away. I don't want to be that sensible younger sister, obedient daughter, responsible family head...
I also want to be mischievous and naughty. I also want to have a healthy body. I also want to take a blade and travel the whole world. I also want to meet those interesting companions. I also want to experience those thrilling stories with them...
Elder Brother, tell me, what is wrong with such thoughts?"
Calmly asking this final question, without waiting for Yoriichi's answer, Mitsuba herself shook her head and smiled.
"But I ultimately compromised. When I was still human, I ultimately failed to bravely take that step belonging to myself.
Mother said before her death that I was the daughter of the Tsugikuni household, so it was only natural that I should dedicate myself when it needed me.
Following Mother's words, I failed to become who I truly wanted to become, but instead worked hard to become who you wanted me to become.
Until finally, when I was critically ill, I suddenly realized that I had completely exhausted my brief life for this image, completely losing the opportunity to make choices again... How pitiful, little Mitsuba."
Speaking as if mocking herself, Mitsuba looked at Yoriichi, and a smile reappeared on her face.
"So, Elder Brother Yoriichi, tell me—when Lord Muzan, who could give me the opportunity to choose again, appeared before me, what reason did I have to not accept?"
After quietly listening to Mitsuba's account, Yoriichi neither nodded in approval nor shook his head in denial. He only used that aged voice to continue asking:
"One last question, Mitsuba. That night, the words you spoke to me—were they truth, or lies?"
Even though decades had passed, when Yoriichi mentioned this, Mitsuba instantly realized which night he was referring to.
It was the night when she was still the family head of the Tsugikuni household, the last time Yoriichi came to see her.
At the same time, it was also the night when she calmly persuaded Yoriichi to accept his own death.
This was both the siblings' last meeting and their final encounter as humans.
"They were all true, Elder Brother Yoriichi."
Looking directly into his eyes, Mitsuba gave an affirmative answer.
"Whether it was me at that time who could only force myself to learn acceptance in despair, or me who later chose to become a demon, all of these are the true me."
Humans are such complex creatures. Depending on the scene and the power at hand, when facing the same problem, they often make completely different choices.
The Mitsuba who calmly faced death was her.
The Mitsuba who collapsed in despair was her.
The Mitsuba who is now carefree and content is also her.
They are all her, merely belonging to different periods of her life.
"So it was like this. I understand..."
Upon hearing this, Yoriichi only nodded lightly. Looking at his younger sister before him, a smile finally appeared on that aged face.
"Mitsuba, thank you for not lying to me."
At this moment, the fire in the city spread increasingly, and the sounds of battle outside the city drew nearer and nearer.
On the streets of Osaka Castle, which was about to fall, besides these two siblings, no other figures could be seen.
Truly a most suitable place.
"You're welcome, Elder Brother Yoriichi."
A smile also involuntarily appeared at the corner of her mouth. The whites of Mitsuba's eyes rapidly turned blood-red, her pupils transforming into the shape of mandala flowers.
Beneath her feet, the formation composed of countless intricate mandala patterns instantly spread out, enveloping Yoriichi and everything around him.
The siblings were about to engage in their final confrontation, but facing the Blood Demon Art formation released by Mitsuba, Yoriichi still showed no intention of acting.
Witnessing Mitsuba's Blood Demon Art for the first time, he was quite astonished.
"Incredible... so this is your Blood Demon Art, Mitsuba...
Decades ago, I heard from Miss Tamayo that you could see the causality on humans.
Since this is so, Mitsuba, can you tell me—what does the causality on me look like in your eyes?"
"They are iron chains as thick as wrists."
In a sea of blood-red, looking at Yoriichi before her, tightly bound and wrapped by countless blood-red iron chains as thick as wrists, almost no different from a marionette, Mitsuba answered truthfully.
"The power of causality on your body is stronger than any I have ever seen. They even exceed that Ubuyashiki I saw decades ago."
A trace of pity appeared in Mitsuba's tone.
Pity for Yoriichi.
Perhaps only she in this world knew that beneath the empty fame of "Child of God," Yoriichi was also the puppet most deeply controlled by the gods.
Countless forces of causality wrapped around him, tightly controlling every aspect of his life.
"Can you tell me my fate hereafter?"
Yoriichi continued to ask.
And Mitsuba continued to answer.
"Your entire life will be spent rushing everywhere searching for Lord Muzan, from the ends of the earth to the corners of the sea, from the harsh winters of Hokkaido to the cherry blossoms of Kyushu.
Until you die peacefully at eighty-nine years old, your life will never stop."
On Yoriichi's body, which had never suffered any injury since birth, Mitsuba could not see any "death" that could be guided out.
Even the death of the Child of God was destined. He was destined to live to eighty-nine years old and die peacefully.
"Then after this, will I still meet anyone worth remembering?"
"No. Your life is destined to be lonely, destined to have no companions or company. As the Child of God, whether or not you can complete your mission, you will walk alone toward your final destination."
"So it was like this. I understand..."
Upon hearing this, Yoriichi smiled. Only at this moment, Mitsuba still did not know what this smile represented.
Yoriichi asked no more questions. He only slightly bent down, his right hand gripping the hilt of his Nichirin Blade tightly, and said in a flat tone:
"Prepare yourself, Mitsuba. I am about to draw my blade. Show me your Blood Demon Art well."
In an instant, with the enhancement of the Transparent World, Mitsuba saw through all the changes inside Yoriichi's body, and also saw the direction his blade would swing toward.
As expected, it was her neck.
This was the natural result.
Mitsuba understood this elder brother of hers. Yoriichi was never someone who enjoyed battle.
On the contrary, he even extremely hated the sensation of his blade cutting into flesh, from childhood to adulthood.
This personality also forged Yoriichi's clean and decisive battle style.
He would not humiliate his opponents, nor would he torture his enemies. What could be resolved with one blade, he would absolutely not swing a second time.
Even when facing an enemy like Muzan whom he believed must be killed, Yoriichi also cut at vital points with every strike, never making any unnecessary or useless slashes.
Under this premise, when Yoriichi faced Mitsuba, who had far fewer hearts and brains than Muzan, how would he swing his blade?
The answer was simple: the neck.
His first blade, and what he believed to be the fatal strike, would definitely slash toward Mitsuba's neck.
He would not deliberately torture Mitsuba, nor did he need any probing. His first blade would absolutely only be this fatal strike.
And this, precisely, was Mitsuba's chance of victory.
It was her only possible chance of victory when facing the Child of God Yoriichi—a chance that came only once.
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