Chapter 67: Demonic Aura from the Imperial Capital
Hikaru and Kikyo had, in truth, been mentally prepared for a scene of such carnage from the very beginning.
The Shikon Jewel was the cause. This cursed artifact had always been a catalyst for conflict, and no single guardian had ever held it for long. This included the previous head of the demon slayer village; even with the strength of his entire clan and the secret support of powerful spiritualists, he had lasted less than a decade before being forced to pass the burden to a stronger successor.
And now, the situation was even more volatile.
Amidst the grim reality, Hikaru suddenly recalled some of the rumors he had overheard on the road. He thought of the war brewing between the Imagawa and Hojo clans.
Both were major powers in the Kanto region. The Imagawa clan ruled the three provinces of Suruga, Totomi, and Mikawa; while their direct control over many areas was tenuous, their military might was formidable. The Hojo clan—the 'Later Hojo,' an ascendant power rather than the original lineage—similarly occupied Sagami and Musashi Provinces, making them direct neighbors to the Imagawa. The two houses clashed frequently, each vying to seize more territory from the other.
Hikaru had heard that a large-scale war was about to erupt between them once more.
In theory, while Musashi Province belonged to the Hojo, it shouldn't have shared a border with the Imagawa's lands. However, after several months of traversing this world, Hikaru had long since discovered that its geography was not identical to the one he knew before his transmigration. The land was vaster, and certain regions were shaped differently. In this world, Musashi Province and the Imagawa-ruled Suruga did indeed share a border—a very narrow, mountainous region. It wasn't large, but it existed.
It was only natural for the chaos of war to spill over into such a contested area.
And for the Band of Seven to appear in this exact place, at this exact time, with the specific goal of inciting slaughter and generating resentment… It was difficult to believe that the so-called demon from Kyoto, the one pulling their strings, wasn't exploiting the conflict between the two clans.
A name suddenly surfaced in his mind.
It was the name of a great demon that existed in the same legends as Nurarihyon and Nura Rihan. A great demon entrenched in Kyoto, gestating the King of Demons.
Her name was Hagoromo Gitsune.
She was a great demon with deep ties to Tamamo-no-Mae, the legendary nine-tailed fox and one of the three most terrible yokai in all of Japan.
If this incident was truly her doing…
"This is trouble," Hikaru whispered, his voice low.
"What is it?" Kikyo asked, turning to look at him.
"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "I was just thinking that the demons in Kyoto might be even more troublesome than we imagined."
Kikyo did not press for details. Her silence was a confirmation of their shared understanding. She simply quickened her pace.
It wasn't just Hikaru; she also understood the implications. If that demon from Kyoto had truly set its sights on the Shikon Jewel, then Kaede Village would be its next target.
That was the village she protected.
It was her home.
"Can we go any faster?" Kikyo asked suddenly. Her tone was still calm, but Hikaru could hear the thread of urgency woven within it.
"We can," he replied, extending his hand. "Hold on."
Kikyo did not hesitate, her fingers closing around his.
The next second, the muscles in Hikaru's legs bulged as [Spear-Waist Transformation] and [Sharp Body Transformation] activated in unison, channeling power through his entire frame.
And then, he unleashed [Ghost Step] in a rapid, blurring succession.
Their speed surged explosively. They became two gusts of wind sweeping through the mountain forest, the world around them dissolving into a kinetic blur. Trees retreated into streaks of green and brown, and massive boulders became fleeting afterimages.
Kikyo was pulled along, the wind tearing at her, whipping her white kosode and crimson hakama into a frenzy. Her long, black hair streamed out behind her, a straight, silken banner against the gale. She could feel the temperature of the hand holding hers.
It was unnaturally cold, a stark reminder of his undead nature.
Yet, within that chill, there was an unshakeable strength, a silent promise that was more comforting than any warmth.
...
Meanwhile, at the other end of the land.
Kyoto.
Within the subterranean palace located deep beneath the Kinai Region, in a chamber where sunlight had never reached, stood a forest of stone pillars covered in mottled, ancient murals.
A woman sat upon a high platform.
She wore a junihitoe, the layered and dazzlingly magnificent attire of Heian-period noblewomen. But her most striking feature was the nine tails that swayed gently behind her—nine pitch-black tails that seemed to swallow the very light around them.
Hagoromo Gitsune.
Her face was veiled in shadow, her expression unreadable. But in the gloom, her golden, vertical pupils shimmered with an ancient light.
"Kidomaru."
She spoke, her voice soft, yet it carried with perfect clarity to every corner of the vast hall.
"Present."
A figure emerged from the shadows. It was a man. No, it was an oni.
He had the form of a wizened old man, with an aged beard and thinning hair. He wore a simple kimono and carried an exceptionally long tachi at his waist. The cold, malevolent aura emanating from him, however, made it clear that he was anything but human.
His name was Kidomaru. In the ghost stories and legends of this land, he was an oni child, abandoned in the deep mountains and raised by demons. In essence, he was the manifestation of the resentment of countless abandoned infants. He was once a subordinate of Shuten-doji, the great oni king who occupied Mount Oe five hundred years ago. After Shuten-doji's defeat, Kidomaru vanished.
No one knew that he had remained active in Kyoto all this time. Today, he was one of the most powerful combatants among the yokai under Hagoromo Gitsune's command.
"How goes the progress with the vanguard?" she asked.
"The deployment is complete," Kidomaru replied, his voice a hoarse rasp, as if squeezed from the depths of his throat. "I have hired a band of human mercenaries, one with a fearsome reputation, to infiltrate the battlefield between the Imagawa and Hojo clans."
"These fellows will continuously raid the borders of the two provinces, creating slaughter and chaos."
"The more intense the war, the thicker the resentment."
"The denser the resentment, the more yokai it will attract. Those yokai will serve as my vanguard for that region."
Hagoromo Gitsune gave a slight nod, her eyes, hidden behind her mask-like expression, showing a flicker of satisfaction. "You have considered this well, Kidomaru. Since they are human, they can act during the day without arousing suspicion."
"But remember," she cautioned, "what we want is resentment and the Shikon Jewel to accelerate the gestation and birth of My Son—not the victory or defeat of mere humans."
"The more tragic the fighting on both sides, the better."
"When the resentment is sufficient to carry you… that will be the time for your appearance."
A cruel smile twisted Kidomaru's lips. "Understood."
"I have also summoned many of the lesser yokai who have gathered nearby, drawn by the resentment, to conduct a probe." He added, "To test the strength of that priestess who holds the Shikon Jewel. And to wear her down."
Hagoromo Gitsune seemed quite satisfied. "Go and handle it."
Her voice turned as cold as the stone around them. "And remember—do not allow anything to delay the main business. The collection of resentment is the highest priority. Then, the Shikon Jewel."
Kidomaru bowed low. "Your subordinate understands."
He exited the hall. As he moved through the interplay of light and shadow, the faint light revealed ferocious, demonic patterns etched across his aged face.
...
Meanwhile.
Suruga Province, Imagawa Clan Main Camp.
This was the heart of the Imagawa clan's territory, a castle built against the side of a mountain. Inside the castle, within the honmaru—the highest and most central palace atop the tenshukaku, the main keep—a young woman knelt on the tatami mats.
One could even call her a girl. She wore a magnificent junihitoe kimono, her head adorned with a headpiece carved from gold. Her dark brown hair fell like a smooth waterfall, framing a delicate, exquisite face and a petite, slender figure.
Imagawa Yoshimoto.
The head of the Imagawa clan.
Though she was a woman, she was also a feudal lord, a daimyo ruling over an entire region. In this chaotic Sengoku era, female clan heads were not unheard of, and Imagawa Yoshimoto was among the most outstanding of them.
At this moment, her brow was tightly furrowed.
"What are the movements on the Hojo side?" she asked, her voice clear and steady.
"Reporting to my lord," a samurai said, kneeling on one knee before her. "The Hojo army is massing its forces. It appears they are preparing for a large-scale offensive."
"Are our forces sufficient?"
"If it comes to a frontal confrontation…" the samurai hesitated for a moment. "They should have been. But—"
"But what?" Yoshimoto's frown deepened.
"A few days ago, an urgent report came from the front lines," the samurai said, swallowing hard. "Both our army and the Hojo army have been attacked."
"Attacked?"
"Yes." The samurai nodded grimly. "A mercenary organization calling themselves the 'Band of Seven' has been slaughtering indiscriminately near the battlefield. They make no distinction between friend or foe, killing everyone they see. Our army has lost over three hundred men, and it is said the Hojo have suffered similar losses."
Yoshimoto's expression darkened. "The Band of Seven?"
She had heard the name. They were the most brutal mercenary organization in the Kanto region, a group that would dare to do anything as long as the price was right.
But the problem was—
"Who hired them?"
"It is unclear," the samurai replied, shaking his head. "We have investigated, and the Hojo clan is also looking into it, but there are no leads. This group seems to have appeared from nowhere, specifically to create chaos in the areas where our two armies clash."
Yoshimoto's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of her seat. This wasn't right. The Band of Seven were mercenaries; their employer must have a purpose. But if they were killing indiscriminately, what could their goal possibly be?
"Pass down the order," she commanded. "Assemble more troops and prepare to suppress this Band of Seven. Their numbers are few. As long as we can pinpoint their location, our numerical advantage will be enough to crush them."
"Yes!"
The samurai was just about to leave when another messenger rushed in, stumbling with exhaustion.
"Report—!" he gasped. "Urgent report from the front!"
Yoshimoto looked up, her gaze sharp. "Speak."
"The Band of Seven… the Band of Seven has been repelled!" the messenger panted. "According to eyewitnesses at the scene, they encountered a very powerful yokai and a priestess. The other party killed four members of the Band of Seven, and the rest fled!"
Yoshimoto was stunned.
The Band of Seven was actually defeated?
She rose from her seat and walked to the window. Outside, the camp was a hive of activity, with soldiers training in the courtyard below. While this was good news—with the Band of Seven defeated, her army had one less threat to worry about—it also presented a new problem.
An existence capable of defeating the infamous Band of Seven was, itself, another threat.
And he was a demon.
"Pass down the order," Yoshimoto said, turning back to face her men. "Have the intelligence team immediately investigate the background of this demon and the shrine maiden. Find out where he is now, where he went, and what his purpose is. Everything must be investigated clearly."
The samurai bowed. "Yes!"
Imagawa Yoshimoto sat back down, her gaze returning to the markings on the war map spread before her. Her brow furrowed once more.
The chaotic Sengoku era was already messy enough. Now, the factor of demons had been added to the volatile mix.
"I hope no more chaos breaks out," she whispered to herself.
Her gaze drifted past the confines of the hall, toward the distant horizon. There, lightning seemed to intertwine in the darkening sky, and she could almost feel the sinister spread of Yao Qi on the wind.
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