Spiritual power and demonic power were two completely different supernatural forces in this era.
After three months in this world, Kobe Hikaru was no longer the same newcomer who had first woken up in a pile of corpses.
Or rather, a new corpse.
By now, he had a basic understanding of those powers.
Demonic power came from the impure energy between heaven and earth, as well as the resentment of living beings.
It was the foundation yokai relied on to survive.
This power was cold, rotten, and carried an instinctive urge to destroy.
Mixed into it were all kinds of desires.
When it flowed through a yokai’s body, it naturally corroded reason and amplified desire.
It made the weak bloodthirsty and the strong insane.
Hikaru himself was a living example.
When he had first become an oni samurai, his mind had been filled with the urge to kill.
He had nearly started gnawing on corpses right there on the battlefield.
Fortunately, he was not a truly newborn yokai.
Because of the system, he was still a transmigrator with complete human knowledge and memories, and his willpower was strong enough to force that instinct down and recover his reason.
Even so, the influence born from the resentment of living beings still remained.
The clearest sign was that, despite being a corpse, he still possessed all kinds of desires and instinctive reactions driven by demonic energy.
And compared to when he had been alive, there was not one bit less.
Dead, yet almost living.
That was why he was a yokai—both demonic and strange.
But in the end, he was still not truly alive.
Spiritual power was the complete opposite.
It came from the pure convictions of humanity.
It was a force that guarded order.
Spiritual power was clear, bright, and carried a certain quality that purified everything.
Humans who cultivated spiritual power were known by many names: exorcists, onmyoji, monks, shrine maidens.
The titles varied, but their essence was the same.
The purer a person’s conviction, the stronger their spiritual power became.
They were the natural enemies of yokai.
Spiritual power had an innate suppressive effect on yokai, like boiling water against ice, or blazing sunlight against gloom.
Even if a yokai was only grazed by spiritual power, its body would suffer intense burning pain, as if a red-hot iron had been dragged across its skin.
That was why, when Hikaru sensed the spiritual power in the distance, his first reaction was vigilance rather than excitement.
“It’s here.”
He stood on the hill.
The crimson oni mask revealed no expression, and only those scarlet eyes locked onto the distant horizon.
That vast mass of demonic energy was now close enough to be visible with the naked eye.
Gray-green impurity surged over the mountains and fields like a tide, rolling and boiling as if it wanted to dye the entire night sky a murky color.
Within that foul energy were countless black dots, packed so densely they overlapped.
Those black dots were moving at high speed, roaring and shrieking loud enough to shake the night.
Those black dots were yokai.
Lesser yokai.
Small fry even weaker than the five blue-skinned oni from earlier.
Hikaru narrowed his eyes and tried to count them.
One, two, three… ten… thirty… fifty…
“Well, damn.”
He gave up counting.
There were simply too many.
At the very least, there were three or four hundred of them.
They were so densely packed together that, from a distance, they looked like a huge writhing lump of gray-green sludge.
This was the largest group of yokai he had seen since arriving in this world.
Even the great battle three months ago, the one that had caused him to die immediately after transmigrating, had not produced this many yokai on its battlefield.
“Is this some kind of damn Hyakki Yagyo?”
Hikaru looked at the overwhelming swarm of yokai, his scalp tingling.
Although each one was trash on its own, enough ants could still bite an elephant to death.
He did not think he had the ability to fight three hundred enemies alone.
If he really got trapped in there, he would most likely be drowned by the swarm, drained of demonic energy, and torn to pieces.
But his attention soon shifted away from the yokai horde itself.
Because he realized that the spiritual power was right in the center of the swarm.
Hikaru’s gaze passed through the layers of demonic silhouettes and landed on a figure that looked completely out of place at the core of the horde.
It was a person.
An old man.
Even from such a distance, Hikaru could only make out a blurry outline.
The old man wore a gray-white robe, and his body was hunched.
He seemed to be holding something in his left hand, while his right hand kept waving through the air.
Every time he moved, a ring of light burst outward and knocked back the lesser yokai lunging at him.
Spiritual power continuously spilled from his body, looking especially glaring in the night.
But that light was already very faint.
And it was growing weaker.
Like a candle in the wind, ready to go out at any moment.
Hikaru could tell that the old man was in an extremely bad situation.
His movements were getting slower, and the fluctuations of his spiritual power were growing weaker.
His injuries also seemed to be worsening by the moment.
He fought while retreating in a certain direction, but the yokai around him kept gathering.
They were almost about to swallow him completely.
“Hand it over!”
A shrill shout came from far away, carried into Hikaru’s ears by the night wind.
“Old bastard, hand that thing over!”
“Everyone from that shitty village who came out with you is already dead!
What are you still holding on for?”
“Hand it over, and we’ll let you die quickly!
Something like that isn’t for humans to monopolize!”
“I’m in a good mood today.
Maybe I’ll even leave your corpse intact!”
Mockery, threats, and roars rose one after another.
Those yokai clearly had their eyes fixed on something in the old man’s possession.
The old man did not respond.
He only gritted his teeth and continued moving forward.
He seemed to have a clear destination.
Hikaru followed the old man’s direction with his eyes.
Ahead of him lay a chain of mountains.
Beyond that, if Hikaru’s sense of direction was not wrong…
There should be a human settlement several mountains away.
It seemed to be a small province called Musashi.
He was still thinking when Muramasa suddenly trembled even more violently in his hand.
The entire sword let out a low hum, like a starving beast whining in its throat with desperate craving.
Hikaru lowered his head and looked at the system panel.
[Demon Blade Muramasa: Detected a large number of prey.]
[Current Mood: Ecstatic.]
[It has conveyed a strong desire to you: “I want them.”]
“Calm down.”
Hikaru pressed a hand against the hilt, feeling as if he were trying to soothe a rabid dog.
“That’s three or four hundred of them, not three or four.
If we charge straight in like that, we’re both going to die there.”
Muramasa ignored his warning and continued trembling violently.
[Demon Blade Muramasa says it does not care.]
[It believes: Dying in a pile of prey is also a form of romance.]
“…”
Hikaru fell silent.
Was there something wrong with this sword’s way of thinking?
‘And you’re a sword, damn it.
What death are you talking about?
I’m the one who’ll die, all right?’
He could not be bothered to keep arguing with a blade, so he focused his attention back on the distant battlefield.
The old man’s situation was getting worse.
His spiritual power was almost exhausted, and the rings of light that could push back the yokai were growing smaller and dimmer.
The surrounding yokai had clearly noticed this as well.
Their attacks became increasingly fierce, and their laughter grew louder.
“The old bastard is about to die!”
“Charge!
Whoever grabs it first gets to keep it!”
Hikaru watched the scene and fell into a brief moment of thought.
He was considering one thing.
Should he act, or should he not?
From the perspective of benefit, that yokai swarm was enormous, but each one was small fry.
As long as he was careful, slashed through one wave, and left immediately, the danger did not seem that high.
And if he used them to feed the blade…
Even if he only managed to take one tenth of them…
He glanced down at the panel.
[Demon Blade Muramasa: Current Affection: 16.]
[Next Stage (30) Unlocks: Bond Dialogue (2), Special Ability (1).]
At 30 affection, Muramasa would unlock its first special ability.
That was what he urgently needed most right now.
Just increasing the blade’s sharpness was not enough for him to gain a foothold in this world crawling with demons and monsters.
Only by unlocking special abilities could he truly widen the gap between himself and ordinary yokai.
Three or four hundred lesser yokai meant a large, filling meal.
It should be enough to raise Muramasa’s affection to 30.
As long as he was careful and did not get surrounded, he could use movement to create space and use that space to buy time.
There should not be a problem.
Even if something did go wrong, with his [Ghost Step], escaping should not be too difficult.
And if he set aside profit and looked at it from a moral perspective…
Well, he was a yokai.
He did not exactly have much morality to speak of.
He was doing this for profit, at most with a little bit of leftover human discomfort at watching someone be killed.
On top of that, the “treasure” those yokai kept shouting about made him rather tempted.
After all, in the few months since he had arrived in this world, he had wandered across battlefields left behind by humans and yokai.
He had picked up more than a few relatively intact items, but almost none had been valuable enough for yokai to call them treasures.
And what his system lacked most was exactly that kind of so-called “treasure.”
Besides, those yokai were far too noisy.
Their shouting was starting to annoy him.
Since things had come to this, there was nothing left to hesitate over.
Time to eat first!
Hikaru stood up and drew Muramasa from his waist.
The blade shone coldly beneath the moonlight.
“I need to farm affection anyway.
Saving someone along the way isn’t a bad deal.”
Demonic power surged beneath his feet, and his figure instantly vanished from where he stood.
[Ghost Step].
In the next moment, he appeared below the hill, charging straight toward the surging tide of yokai.
“Go!”
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