[Inorin's Note: Hey everyone, quick apology for the quiet week here! Over the last few days, we've been working behind the scenes to officially launch our own dedicated reading site.
Moving forward, Elysian Reads (elysianreads[.]com) is going to be our primary hub for all novel releases. (P.S. Just swap the [.] with a regular dot . to open the link!) It's packed with some really neat custom features designed to make reading way more enjoyable.
That being said, Webnovel isn't getting left behind. I'll be dropping a mass release here shortly to clear out the missed chapters, and our regular updates will be right back on track. Thanks a ton for hanging in there with me!]
Chapter 125: His Name Needs No Bestowal
The moonlight poured down like liquid mercury, bathing the world in a cold, sterile light.
Hikaru stood within the deep shadow of the torii gate, the demonic patterns etched into his crimson oni mask appearing exceptionally ferocious in the gloom. Ten paces away, the young girl named Uesugi Kenshin maintained that same heart-stopping calm, her presence a silent weight upon the night.
There was no killing intent, no hostility. There was only an unnerving indifference, the kind one might show a peculiar stone or a wildflower by the roadside—and with it, the casual, possessive desire to simply pluck it, pick it up, and tuck it away in her pocket.
"You said… a Shinki?" Hikaru repeated the word, his expression tightening beneath the mask as a flicker of recognition sparked in his mind. "Like that Kakizaki Kageie?"
"Yes, and no," Kenshin replied, shaking her head gently. A gust of wind swept through the clearing, causing a lock of her silver hair to slide across her cheek. For a fleeting moment, her bearing was so sacred, so untouched, that she seemed entirely separate from the mortal world. "Kageie was not the wielder of a Shinki; she was the reincarnation of the Shinki itself. But while she could hold its power, she could not fully unleash it. Without my presence, she couldn't even activate that power on her own—and she could never reveal a Shinki's true form."
A Shinki, as the name implied, was ultimately an 'instrument,' not a person. Hikaru understood the distinction.
Kenshin then raised a delicate hand, her fingertip pointing through the air toward him. "And you… you are an Oni. A restless spirit. A dead soul wandering the world—one with a form, yet no place to truly return to."
The young girl's voice was cold and clear, connecting in the silent night like the chanting of an ancient scripture, rising and falling with an unwavering rhythm.
"To the gods, such an existence is the perfect material. You are a being that can be directly transformed into an 'instrument'."
"The so-called Shinki," she continued, her tone that of a lecturer explaining a fundamental law of the universe, "are, in essence, wandering souls granted a 'name' by a god. They become vessels for a portion of the faith that mortals hold for us."
"In daily life, they maintain a human form. But when called upon by their master, they are compelled to transform into an apply—perhaps a sword, perhaps armor, or perhaps even lightning and fire."
"The god bestows a name, which is carved upon your very soul."
"The name is read using the kun'yomi reading, which serves as the address for the human form. The instrument's name uses the on'yomi reading, which serves as the true name for the weapon form."
"This is the pact between god and instrument."
Hikaru's crimson eyes narrowed. He finally remembered. He remembered exactly where he had heard of this concept before.
In the memories of his life before this world, there was a story called Noragami. In it, gods would subdue wandering spirits in precisely this manner, transforming them into their personal armaments. He hadn't expected that in this bizarre, blended reality, Uesugi Kenshin, as an avatar of Bishamonten, would actually possess this same power.
Or perhaps… he hadn't expected that this world would also be mixed with the rules from that world.
By that logic, the Uesugi Kenshin before him was indeed a true avatar of Bishamonten, a divine being reincarnated in human form. Though not her true self, she could still activate the power of reincarnated Shinki, allowing them to bear a portion of the faith mortals held for Bishamonten and thereby gain that unmatched 'weight' that could suppress all supernatural power.
And she could still grant a new 'name' to a spirit, binding it as a Shinki.
"So," Hikaru's voice was low, his fingers tapping a light, crisp rhythm against the hilt of the Muramasa at his waist. "You want to bestow a name upon me? Even though I am a youkai?"
"What does it matter if you are a youkai, or an Oni?" Uesugi Kenshin took a single step forward.
Just one step.
An immense, suffocating pressure—the pure, ultimate source of a Shinki's power, a vast force that could only be defined as the might of gods and buddhas—crashed down upon him like a landslide. Kenshin's goal, it seemed, was exactly as she had stated: she did not want to purify or destroy him.
She wanted to assimilate him. She wanted to smooth away all his rough edges, all his defiance, all his impurities, leaving behind only the purest soul for her to command.
"You need only nod," Kenshin said, extending her hand, palm upward, in a gesture that was both an invitation and the offering of a divine gift. "I can wash away the filth from your body, bestow upon you the surname 'Uesugi', and grant you a new 'name'."
"You will become my sharpest blade. You could even become a 'Blessed Vessel', far surpassing ordinary Shinki, or even a 'Guidepost' to light the way forward for the gods."
"You will accompany me, cutting through the thorns of this chaotic world to establish a Buddhist kingdom on earth."
"As for that bottleneck of yours… in the face of a Shinki's power, it is not even worth mentioning."
It was a very tempting offer. If it were an ordinary wandering ghost, or even a spirit on the level of a youkai lord—a being with a Seventh or even Eighth Transformation level of Yao Qi, by Hikaru's own definitions—they would likely be swayed when faced with an invitation from a being of the divine realm. It was a true leap to the heavens, a transformation from 'demon'to'divine messenger'.
But Hikaru only smiled, a dry, humorless curve of his lips beneath the mask.
"And if I refuse?"
He had no intention of becoming anyone's 'dog'. These so-called Shinki were completely and utterly controlled by their masters. Besides, he didn't need that method to grow stronger.
His own path was better. More stable.
Uesugi Kenshin did not withdraw her hand. In her eyes, as still and deep as an ancient well, a trace of an emotion called 'pity' slowly surfaced for the first time.
"You cannot refuse."
"Because you are already dead."
"And a dead soul has no right to refuse a god."
The moment her words fell, the very air began to hum and tremble.
Countless golden Sanskrit characters erupted from Kenshin's wide sleeves, weaving themselves into a vast, shimmering net in the night sky. These characters were not meant for attack.
They were meant for 'naming'.
Every single character carried an immense weight; they were the embodiment of rules, a brand to be forcibly seared onto Hikaru's soul. She had never intended to negotiate. The so-called invitation was merely a polite formality before the application of force.
She had taken a liking to this blade.
So she would take it.
It was that simple.
"This is an invitation," Kenshin's voice remained calm, yet it connected with absolute authority. "And it is also a declaration."
The net of golden characters descended.
Hikaru did not move. He only tightened his grip on his sword's hilt. This power suppressed all things 'supernatural'. Naturally, that included demons and Yao Qi.
However… nothing in this world was ever one-sided. Everything was a matter of opposition. If something could suppress, it could also be suppressed in turn.
It all came down to a simple contest of strength.
And so, right here, right now, Hikaru took a deep breath and then exhaled.
The Thunder Muscles within his body roared to life, purple arcs of lightning crackling between his bones. The hand gripping his blade began to exude a thick, swirling miasma of Yao Qi.
And then—
Vmm—
The golden net shattered.
A single, instantaneous slash. It was torn apart by lightning, sliced by the blade, and then utterly disintegrated by the demonic energy that surged in its wake.
Uesugi Kenshin's gaze narrowed slightly.
And at that very same moment—
Swish—!
The sound of something piercing the air sliced sharply through the night. It wasn't just lightning.
It was an arrow.
A Sacred Arrow, wreathed in brilliant white spiritual power, streaked through the darkness like a shooting star. It flew from behind Hikaru, grazing past his shoulder with a long, resonant hum as it shot toward the remnants of the golden net.
There was no devastating explosion. There was only a crisp sound, like glass shattering into a thousand pieces. The net of naming, which had been about to reform, had its core pierced by the arrow and instantly dissolved into a shower of golden dust that filled the sky.
Uesugi Kenshin's fingers trembled slightly, and she withdrew her hand. She raised her head, her gaze passing over Hikaru to look at the path behind him.
Hikaru also turned slightly.
Beneath the torii gate, at the end of the mountain path, Kikyo was walking toward them.
She was still dressed in her white kosode and red hakama, her long black hair unbound and draped casually over her shoulders. She had clearly been awakened from sleep, yet her demeanor was as cold and aloof as ever—perhaps even colder than usual. In her hand, she held her ancient longbow, its string still vibrating faintly.
Her expression was truly, utterly cold.
It was a coldness that surpassed the moonlight, a coldness that eclipsed even the high-and-mighty indifference of Uesugi Kenshin. It was the kind of frigid stillness that appears only after one's most precious treasure has been threatened.
She walked past Hikaru without a glance, positioning herself directly between him and Uesugi Kenshin. That slender, upright back was like an impossible wall, shielding her lover, her Oni Samurai.
"He has a name," Kikyo spoke.
Her voice was not loud, yet every word was perfectly clear, like ice beads striking the ground—resonant and forceful.
"He does not need anyone else to bestow one."
She raised her bow, another arrow already nocked, and aimed it directly at the 'War God' standing ten paces away.
She aimed it at that so-called god and buddha.
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