“Come on!”
Demonic energy surged around the oni samurai, and Kobe Hikaru’s voice rang out again.
Power flowed beneath his feet, and [Ghost Step] activated once more.
He did not retreat.
Instead, he advanced, charging straight toward the hannya-masked oni samurai.
But this time, his target was not the front.
It was the left side.
The side with the old wound.
The hannya-masked oni samurai clearly sensed his intention.
Its rusted blade swept out, cutting off Hikaru’s line of attack.
Hikaru did not block it head-on.
His body changed direction in midair, [Spear Waist] twisting his waist and abdomen like a snake, and he flipped over the blade’s edge.
The instant he landed, he was already standing on the hannya-masked oni samurai’s left side.
The tip of his blade aimed straight for the left knee.
“Courting death!”
The hannya-masked oni samurai abruptly lifted its left leg, avoiding the thrust while driving its knee toward Hikaru’s face.
The blow struck Hikaru squarely in the jaw.
His head snapped backward, and a crack appeared across his oni mask.
But his blade did not stop.
Muramasa drew an arc through the air, cutting toward the hannya-masked oni samurai’s abdomen.
A trade.
The hannya-masked oni samurai raised its left hand and caught the slash by force.
The black blade bit into its palm, and blood sprayed out.
But it did not care at all.
Its rusted blade rose high, then came chopping down toward the top of Hikaru’s head!
Hikaru did not dodge.
He had no intention of dodging.
Because his goal had never been to win by himself.
It was to force the hannya-masked oni samurai’s center of gravity entirely onto its left leg.
At this moment, after lifting its left knee to kick him, it had just landed again.
Its balance had not fully settled, and all its strength was focused on that old-injured left leg.
Its rusted blade was raised overhead, its attack fully opened, and it had completely abandoned defense around its left knee.
That weak point.
That old wound.
At this moment, it was fully exposed within Kikyo’s range.
Yes.
At that very moment, the shrine maiden had already freed her hand and raised her bow once more.
In that instant—
Whoosh—!
A streak of white light shot out from inside the barrier.
This arrow was brighter than any before it.
The spiritual power wrapped around the shaft was dazzling, and the entire arrow crossed the night sky like a falling star.
The hannya-masked oni samurai’s pupils contracted.
It sensed the scorching aura coming from behind and to the side.
But it was too late.
Its center of gravity was entirely on its left leg, and its rusted blade was raised to its highest point.
Even if it wanted to dodge now, there was no time.
Pfft—!
The demon-purifying arrow pierced through its left knee.
Spiritual power exploded inside the wound, white light burning into its demonic body like a branding iron.
“Ahhh—!”
The hannya-masked oni samurai let out a heart-rending scream and dropped to one knee.
Its left leg had already lost the ability to move.
Spiritual power continued corroding the wound, throwing its demonic energy into chaos and preventing it from gathering properly.
Hikaru did not give it any chance to breathe.
Because the hannya-masked oni samurai had dropped to one knee, the rusted blade that had been raised high and was about to fall veered off course.
It passed beside Hikaru’s shoulder, cutting off only a few strands of his pale hair.
And Hikaru had already pulled Muramasa free from the enemy’s palm.
Gray-black blood followed the blade.
The edge turned.
There was nothing fancy about this strike.
It was only the simplest thrust.
From the front, piercing through the back of the neck!
The tip of the blade burst out through the throat.
It lowered its head and looked at the black blade protruding from its neck.
For the first time, confusion appeared in those deathly gray eyes behind the mask.
“You…”
It wanted to say something, but its throat had already been pierced through.
All it could make was a muddled gurgling sound.
Meanwhile, the arrow wound continued releasing spiritual power.
That power spread upward from its left knee along its channels, drilling into its body like a venomous snake.
When the spiritual power reached the wound at the back of its neck—
The two forces converged.
An external blade wound.
Internal spiritual corrosion.
The hannya-masked oni samurai’s body seemed to ignite from the inside.
White light spilled from every pore, bursting from its eye sockets, the corners of its mouth, even the gaps between its fingers.
The hannya mask began to crack.
The fractures spread from forehead to chin, and pieces peeled away one by one.
The face beneath the mask was also the face of a dead man—pale, dried-out, and marked by the sword scar left from the battle where he had died.
It looked at Hikaru.
Hikaru looked back at it.
Two oni samurai.
One with Five Changes, one with Six.
One fighting for humans, one dying for demons.
“Damn… traitor…”
The hannya-masked oni samurai’s mouth seemed to twitch, as if it wanted to curse, to snarl, to condemn him.
But it no longer had the chance.
Because the white light erupted.
Its body disintegrated under the burning spiritual power, turning into ash that scattered through the air.
That ash was not ordinary remains.
It drifted lightly toward the sky, glimmering faintly silver beneath the moonlight.
It was the trace left after resentment had been purified.
Clean, pure, without the slightest trace of impurity left behind—
Purification.
True purification.
Hikaru stood amid the falling ash, feeling the warmth of the spiritual power lingering in the air.
Warm.
A warmth completely opposite to the demonic energy inside him.
[Shikon Jewel: Naohi Affection +1.]
[Current Affection: 2 (Budding).]
[It has conveyed a message to you: “Well done.”]
‘Looks like not every purification gives a reward… It depends on the Shikon Jewel’s mood, and on my “performance.”‘
Hikaru thought in silence, but he did not relax.
Because it was not over yet.
Because…
He gripped Muramasa even tighter and raised his head, looking toward the remaining yokai horde.
The single-horned oni, the giant python, and the three-eyed crow were all staring at him in terror.
One of their leaders, an oni samurai with Six Changes of Body Transformation, had died just like that.
Killed by someone who looked weaker than him.
After all, although most oni samurai were muddleheaded, among yokai of the same level, they were usually not weak.
They were not inferior.
“Anyone else?”
Hikaru held the hilt and spoke calmly.
The yokai horde stirred restlessly.
The single-horned oni’s expression was ugly to the extreme.
It wanted to order them to continue attacking, but its throat felt blocked by something.
Fear.
This was fear.
That oni samurai did not look especially strong, yet he seemed far too unusual.
They all knew the abilities of the oni samurai that had just been killed.
As yokai born in a human form, oni samurai were often more complete and stronger than others at the same level.
And then there was the shrine maiden inside the barrier.
Even though that shrine maiden had to worry about the village behind her and could not unleash her full strength without restraint, even though she had to split her attention to maintain a large-scale barrier protecting the villagers, she was still terrifying beyond reason.
Together, those two created a result greater than the sum of its parts.
They could not fight this.
They must not fight this.
Unlike the lesser yokai, the single-horned oni had enough intelligence to make that judgment.
“Re…”
It squeezed out the word with difficulty.
“Retreat!” Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
The remaining lesser yokai did not have much intelligence, but their instincts had long been screaming at them to flee.
They had only stayed because the high-level yokai had been suppressing them.
Now that they heard the order, the horde scattered as if granted amnesty, retreating like a receding tide.
The giant python was the first to turn around, its five-jō-long body slipping into the grass at shocking speed.
The three-eyed crow beat its wings and soared into the sky, vanishing into the night in the blink of an eye.
The single-horned oni ran last.
Before leaving, it glared fiercely at Hikaru.
“You brat, you’d better remember this!”
Then it ran too.
Hikaru stood where he was and watched the yokai horde collapse into the distance.
“…That’s it?”
Now he actually felt a little disappointed.
Although the Shikon Jewel’s affection rewards were inconsistent, he had still wanted to see whether he could farm more affection for Muramasa.
Maxing it out directly would have been best.
[Demon Blade Muramasa: Mood: “Regretful.” It says the ones that ran away all looked delicious.]
“Next time.”
Hikaru patted the hilt.
Then he turned and looked toward the shrine.
The barrier was still there, its pale-white light screen continuing to cover the shrine and the villagers nearby.
The figure on the stone steps was still there too.
White kosode, red hakama, black hair flowing like a waterfall.
Kikyo was looking at him.
Her bow was still in her hand, but her quiver was empty.
Half of those arrows had been used to cooperate with him.
During the battle, Hikaru had not had the leisure to look closely.
Now that everything had quieted down, that figure fell into his eyes completely, like a painting.
Her black hair spilled over her shoulders, and a few strands had been blown forward by the night wind, resting against the collar of her white kosode and making that moon-pale fabric look even more striking.
The tips of her hair fell just over the rise of her chest, trembling gently with each breath like dark petals floating on a stream.
And her face—
Cold, fair, and so refined she hardly seemed mortal.
There was fatigue there, left behind after maintaining the barrier and continuously firing arrows.
But even exhausted, she still stood perfectly straight.
That posture was not deliberate elegance.
It was something woven into her very bones—a near-instinctive uprightness that belonged to someone who had spent her whole life protecting something.
Like a white blade planted in the dark night.
Cold and sharp, yet somehow making one want to draw closer.
Hikaru looked at her, and the corner of his mouth moved faintly beneath the oni mask.
This was Kikyo.
The girl he had seen countless times from the other side of a screen three months ago was now standing ten jō away.
She was not 2D lines and colors.
She was alive, warm—even if that warmth came from spiritual power rather than body heat—with breath, with drifting hair, with fluttering sleeves, with eyelashes casting faint shadows beneath the moonlight.
The real Kikyo.
More beautiful than any version he had imagined.
And more than any version he had imagined—
She made his heart stir.
‘Damn this turbid energy.
It’s influencing me again!’
Hikaru silently found an excuse for himself.
Their gazes met across the night.
Hikaru opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
But before he could speak, the system panel suddenly popped up with a new prompt.
[Shikon Jewel: Naohi has conveyed a message to you.]
[The shrine maiden is watching you.
She is hesitating.]
[You need to give her a reason to trust you.]
[Hand me over to her.
Then you will be safe.
She will no longer harm you, and she will protect you.]
Hikaru lowered his head and looked at the Shikon Jewel in his palm.
The pale purple jewel lay quietly there, its light soft and mysterious.
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