Kōbe Hikaru did not charge down.
He wasn’t an idiot.
With seven or eight hundred yōkai besieging the village, even with Kikyō’s barrier holding them back, swaggering down from the mountain peak wouldn’t be heroic—it would be suicide.
Even if he intended to hand over the Jewel of Four Souls, he couldn’t do it like this.
Besides, he had no intention of handing it over immediately.
At the very least, he needed to unlock its Affinity first.
But he couldn’t just sit here waiting, either.
The Jewel of Four Souls in his chest pocket needed to be close to Kikyō to trigger the unlock verification—this was the prerequisite given by the system.
Right now, Kikyō was in the shrine at the center of the village.
He was at the peak of the mountain.
Separating them were seven or eight hundred yōkai.
“…This is a bit tricky.”
Hikaru crouched behind a massive boulder, observing the chaotic battlefield below.
The yōkai horde’s attention was entirely focused on the village’s barrier; not a single monster looked toward the mountain peak.
That was the good news.
The bad news was that the Jewel of Four Souls was still glowing.
Although he had wrapped the faint purple light in several layers of cloth, its unique aura continued to leak out.
If he approached from the front, those yōkai would definitely notice.
But what if… Hikaru’s gaze swept across the battlefield.
From what he could see, the yōkai horde’s formation wasn’t tight—or more accurately, there was no formation to speak of.
Seven or eight hundred yōkai were crammed together in a chaotic mess, all fighting their own separate battles.
Some attacked the barrier, some fought their own kind for a better position, and some were even huddled in the corners, gnawing on the fresh corpses of their fallen comrades.
Chaos.
Absolute chaos.
And amidst this chaos, Demonic Aura permeated everything.
Thick, turbid, and overwhelming Demonic Aura.
The aura was so dense it was almost tangible, blanketing the outskirts of the village like a thick layer of grayish-green mist.
An ordinary person standing in it would probably pass out on the spot from the sheer toxicity.
But for Hikaru, this was the perfect cover.
Because he was also a yōkai.
He possessed his own Demonic Aura, and not only was it substantial in quantity, but it was also incomparably pure in quality.
In this overwhelmingly dense ocean of Demonic Aura, his own aura was like a drop of water blending into the sea.
It wouldn’t attract any attention at all.
As for the aura of the Jewel of Four Souls…
Hikaru glanced down at the jewel in his pocket.
The faint purple glow was still faintly visible through the layers of cloth.
“Can you quiet down a bit?” he whispered to the jewel.
The Jewel of Four Souls did not respond.
It merely glowed in silence, completely ignoring his request.
“…Forget it.”
Hikaru sighed.
Fortunately, while the aura emitted by the Jewel of Four Souls was unique, it would be heavily diluted and masked by this intensely thick ocean of Demonic Aura.
The perception of these low-level yōkai was limited.
As long as he didn’t pull the jewel out and use it like a flashlight, he shouldn’t be discovered.
“Let’s go,” he muttered softly to Muramasa at his waist.
“Because I don’t want to die, my lady.”
Hikaru answered concisely, lowering his posture and moving down along the shadows of the hillside.
He didn’t use [Ghost Step].
That would cause fluctuations in his Demonic Power, which could easily be detected at this distance.
He chose the most primitive method—walking.
Walking over on foot.
Walking quietly.
Like a snake.
Hikaru pressed close to the ground, his body almost level with the tall grass.
His tattered Red Gusoku Armor, stained with mud and grass juice, became the perfect camouflage in the twilight.
He moved along the periphery of the yōkai horde, specifically choosing to slip through the areas where the Demonic Aura was thickest.
The intense Demonic Aura acted as a natural barrier, completely concealing his presence.
Occasionally, a few Green-Skin Demons ran past him, their eyes fixed intently on the barrier ahead, completely oblivious to the figure in the grass by their feet.
A One-Eyed Demon even stepped on his hand.
It hurt.
But Hikaru didn’t make a sound.
He simply withdrew his hand in silence, waiting for the One-Eyed Demon to run far away before continuing forward.
‘Quiet,’ Hikaru told himself in his mind.
He continued to crawl forward.
Fifty zhang, forty zhang.
Thirty zhang.
The density of the yōkai horde was increasing, forcing him to be even more careful.
He was nearly discovered a few times, but thanks to [Blood Resonance], he sensed the movements of the surrounding yōkai in advance and adjusted his route just in time.
Having slaughtered so many yōkai along the way, most of the demonic blood splattered on him had been absorbed by Muramasa, but a fair amount still lingered in the crevices of his armor.
That residual blood served as his early warning system.
Any living creature that came within three zhang of him would be detected.
Twenty zhang.
Fifteen zhang.
Hikaru could now clearly see the barrier’s curtain of light.
The pale white radiance flowed before his eyes, emitting a warm and holy aura.
That aura made his skin feel slightly hot—Spiritual Power’s natural suppression of yōkai was already taking effect at this distance.
But he endured it.
Ten zhang.
He lay prone behind a pile of yōkai corpses—monsters slain by Kikyō’s Exorcism Arrows, their bodies still warm—and raised his head, peering through the gaps between the corpses toward the shrine.
Kikyō was right there.
Dressed in her white robe and red hakama, standing atop the stone steps.
She was firing arrows.
The bowstring was drawn, white light gathered, and an arrow was loosed.
A Centipede Spirit attempting to scale the side of the barrier was pierced through the head.
Its corpse plummeted, crashing into the yōkai horde below and sparking a wave of startled shrieks.
Kikyō’s face was expressionless.
Her cold, clear eyes were as calm as a deep pool.
It wasn’t apathy, but a composure that bordered on transcendence.
It was as if the siege of seven or eight hundred yōkai was merely a routine chore she needed to handle—and in truth, it really was.
Watching her, a thought surfaced in Hikaru’s mind—
‘So strong.’
‘And also, so—’
‘Beautiful.’
‘No, now isn’t the time to be thinking about this…
Is this damn Turbid Qi affecting me again?’
Hikaru took another breath of the turbid Demonic Aura lingering over the battlefield, forcing himself to calm down, and withdrew his gaze.
Regardless, now was definitely not the time for admiration.
He looked down at his chest pocket.
The glow of the Jewel of Four Souls was changing.
The faint purple radiance was no longer scattering evenly; instead, it began to concentrate toward the front—pointing exactly to where Kikyō stood.
The jewel was sensing her.
Or rather, the jewel was resonating with her.
The system panel was also flashing continuously.
‘It’s close enough.’
Hikaru looked at the prompt on the panel, a glimmer of light flashing in his eyes.
‘It worked!’
‘Getting close to Kikyō really worked!’
He didn’t even need to meet her face-to-face, didn’t need to fight her, and didn’t need to be shot full of holes like a hedgehog—
As long as the distance was close enough, the Jewel of Four Souls would automatically sense the presence of the Suppressor and complete the unlock verification.
‘Excellent,’ he thought to himself.
Then, the system panel refreshed.
Lying prone behind the pile of corpses, Hikaru stared at the newly appeared content on the panel.
His eyes lit up.
But before he could celebrate, an additional prompt popped up at the bottom of the panel.
Hikaru stared at these two lines of text, stunned for several seconds.
This was the first time he had encountered a situation like this…
where Affinity actually had different routes.
Naturally, he hadn’t forgotten the lore from the original work.
He remembered that the Jewel of Four Souls—formed hundreds of years ago from the souls of the strongest shrine maiden, Midoriko, and hundreds of powerful yōkai after their deaths—was composed of four types of souls: Courage Soul, Affinity Soul, Wisdom Soul, and Love Soul.
These four souls represented the four virtues of courage, affinity, wisdom, and love.
But at the same time, the jewel also sealed the lingering resentment of the yōkai within it.
That, too, was comprised of four souls.
They were Cowardice, Estrangement, Ignorance, and Apathy.
Good and evil, righteousness and wickedness—these two forces were locked in an eternal standoff within the jewel.
If the wielder’s heart leaned toward goodness, the jewel would shift toward the ‘Straight Spirit’, unleashing the power of purification.
If the wielder’s heart leaned toward malice, the jewel would shift toward the ‘Crooked Spirit’, amplifying demonic power.
This was the true nature of the Jewel of Four Souls—it was like a mirror, reflecting the true face of its wielder’s heart.
“So this is actually…
the system making me choose a side?”
Hikaru looked at the panel, falling into deep thought.
Option one: Purify yōkai and take the Straight Spirit route.
This meant he had to use the purification of yōkai as a means to increase Affinity.
It sounded a bit strange.
After all, he was a yōkai himself.
Using a yōkai’s identity to purify his own kind…
what kind of twisted logic was that?
Although he had actually been killing yōkai all along, simple slaughter was not the same as purification.
To truly purify, he would have to melt the corpses away completely, leaving no pollution in the surrounding environment.
He couldn’t do that.
And option two: Generate negative emotions in humans and take the Crooked Spirit route.
This clearly required him to use evil deeds as a means to increase Affinity.
Killing people, harming people, making them suffer in terror.
This option sounded much more in line with a yōkai’s nature.
But…
Hikaru furrowed his brows.
Deep down in his bones, he was still human.
A person who had transmigrated from the modern era, possessing a basic sense of morality.
He could kill, but only for survival and self-defense, not for pleasure.
He didn’t have that kind of twisted hobby.
Asking him to actively harm innocent people was something he couldn’t do.
Furthermore—
From a utilitarian perspective.
He was currently lying prone inside an encirclement of seven or eight hundred yōkai, and the closest human was the Strongest Shrine Maiden of the Sengoku Period.
Choose the Crooked Spirit?
Generate negative emotions in humans?
How was he supposed to do that?
Make funny faces at Kikyō and then get shot to death by an arrow?
Give me a break.
But if he chose the Straight Spirit—purifying a yōkai.
He lowered his head and looked around.
Yōkai were everywhere.
Alive, dead, or half-dead—there were as many as he could ever want.
He could casually kill one, then borrow Kikyō’s momentum—borrow her arrows to achieve the purification.
Maybe that would actually work?
It was practically a freebie.
‘So I really don’t have a choice at all,’ Hikaru thought to himself.
Besides, feeding yōkai blood to his weapon to increase Affinity and gain abilities…
This was already his way of survival.
If he took the Straight Spirit route, he only needed to keep doing what he had been doing.
At most, he would just try to get closer to Kikyō; he wouldn’t need to change much at all.
Moreover—
He raised his head, peering through the gaps between the corpses to look toward the shrine once more.
Kikyō loosed another arrow.
The white light tore through the turbid Demonic Aura, piercing straight through the chest of a Bird-Head Monster.
The Bird-Head Monster’s corpse plummeted from midair, smashing against the surface of the barrier before sliding to the ground.
Kikyō was already drawing her next arrow.
Her quiver was still more than half full, and her Spiritual Power remained abundant.
But the toll of fighting seven or eight hundred yōkai was very real.
No matter how strong a shrine maiden was, she couldn’t output power indefinitely.
Not to mention, Kikyō hadn’t reached her absolute peak yet.
Her Spiritual Power might hold up, but her physical stamina wouldn’t, and her techniques still lacked a bit of refinement.
Maintaining the barrier and firing arrows simultaneously multiplied the exhaustion.
Could she hold on?
Of course she could.
At least for now, it looked like she could.
But what if—just as this thought crossed his mind.
Hikaru sensed something wrong.
It wasn’t coming from the yōkai horde in front of him, but from far away.
His body suddenly stiffened.
The instinctive early warning of a Ghost Samurai blared like a frantic alarm in his mind.
He turned his head, looking toward the western ridge.
Over there—
Four distinctly different Demonic Auras were rapidly approaching.
Each one was an entire magnitude stronger than the small fry surrounding him.
No, more than just one magnitude.
Those were—
Four high-level yōkai that could be considered bosses.
They were sprinting down from the western ridge, their target clearly this besieged village.
More accurately—
Their target was the Jewel of Four Souls.
They must have followed the trail left by the Jewel of Four Souls all the way here.
The residual aura clinging to Hikaru was the perfect signpost.
They had just arrived a step later than him.
And now, they were here.
Hikaru really wanted to curse out loud.
Of all the times, it had to be now.
He was lying behind yōkai corpses, clutching the Jewel of Four Souls in his pocket, ten zhang away from Kikyō, and about three hundred zhang away from those four high-level yōkai.
A distance of three hundred zhang was merely a matter of a few breaths for high-level yōkai.
Keep hiding?
Once those four high-level yōkai joined the fray, the horde’s offensive would multiply.
Whether Kikyō’s barrier could hold up then would be hard to say.
Therefore.
‘Option one,’ he stated his answer in his mind.
His hand was already gripping Muramasa’s hilt.
‘Straight Spirit.’
And then—
He stood up from behind the pile of corpses.
The moment Hikaru stood up, the three closest Green-Skin Demons froze simultaneously.
They turned their heads and saw a guy clad in tattered Red Gusoku Armor emerging from the pile of the dead.
Pale, unkempt hair, a Red Oni Mask, and a pair of eyes with inverted black and white colors.
“Wha—”
The leading Green-Skin Demon had barely opened its mouth.
A flash of a blade.
Its mouth was still open, but its head was no longer on its neck.
The severed head spun in midair.
From the tumbling perspective of that head, it could still see its own body standing in place, blood erupting from the stump of its neck like a fountain.
Hikaru didn’t look at the flying head.
His blade was already slashing toward the second demon.
Diagonal Slash.
From shoulder to waist, cleaved in two with a single strike.
The third Green-Skin Demon shrieked and turned to flee, but Muramasa’s tip was faster than its legs—
Thrust.
Piercing straight through the back of its neck.
Three Green-Skin Demons, dead in less than two breaths.