It was the Meiyuan Church.
They had come directly to Shihou Shrine.
Hiding in the shadow near the corner of the corridor, Mizuki Mirei’s eyes widened.
She clamped both hands over her mouth, afraid that even the smallest sound might escape.
She had known the Meiyuan Church was pressuring her family.
She had known they were dangerous.
But she had never imagined they would move this quickly.
They had not even bothered to honor the one-month deadline they had given earlier.
They had cast aside even the thinnest layer of civility and walked straight into her home to force her father’s hand.
And worse…
They had used her safety to threaten him.
Those bastards.
Those devils wearing the mask of religion.
The exchange between her father and the Meiyuan Church’s messenger did not last long.
In truth, it could hardly be called a conversation.
It was an ultimatum.
A one-sided declaration filled with pressure, threats, and the quiet certainty of people accustomed to getting what they wanted.
Before long, the suited messenger walked out of the chief priest’s room with several rough-looking followers at his back.
Their footsteps crossed the shrine corridor without restraint, arrogant and unhurried, as if they already owned the place.
They did not notice Mizuki hiding in the shadows.
The man at the front was Saito Shigeru, Deputy Leader of the Meiyuan Church.
As he walked, he wiped his hands with a handkerchief, his expression faintly disgusted, as though even speaking with the Mizuki family had dirtied him.
One of his subordinates leaned closer and asked in a low voice, “Mr.
Saito, didn’t we already agree to give that old man a month?
Why is the Church Leader suddenly in such a hurry?
Why do we need this land today?”
Saito Shigeru sneered.
He stopped and turned his head, looking at the subordinate as if he were staring at an idiot.
“You fool,” he said softly.
“Do you think things are still the same as before?”
His voice was low enough not to carry far, but every word contained a strange, unsettling fervor.
“The times have changed.”
The subordinate stiffened.
“You’ve heard about what happened in Bunkyo Ward, haven’t you?” Saito continued.
“That evil oni called Ibaraki-Douji…
that was a true Oni God.
Bullets couldn’t kill her.
She walked through armed police like they were insects.
She could even turn humans into monsters.”
A fanatical light appeared in his eyes.
“Use that lard-filled brain of yours and think carefully.
If Oni Gods truly exist in this world, do you believe there could only be one?”
The subordinates behind him went silent.
Saito’s expression twisted with greed and madness.
“The Church Leader has issued the highest directive.
The Meiyuan Church will spare no expense.
In the shortest possible time, we will search every old shrine, temple, and spiritual site across Japan with a long history.”
His voice grew even softer.
“We must find more existences like Ibaraki-Douji before the government and those old families react.”
A pause.
“And then, control them.”
A chill ran through the men behind him.
Saito seemed not to notice.
“This is the only true eternal power.
Money?
Political influence?
Connections?
In front of real Oni Gods and yokai, those are nothing but clouds passing across the sky.”
His words lingered in the shrine corridor like something cold and damp.
Only after Saito and the others had completely left the shrine grounds and vanished down the mountain path did Mizuki Mirei finally step out from the corner.
Her legs felt weak.
Inside the chief priest’s room, her father sat slumped on the tatami.
Mizuki Daikei, the head priest of Shihou Shrine, had always been gentle and somewhat weak, but he had still tried to preserve the dignity of the household.
Now, however, he looked as if someone had pulled the spine out of his body.
His tall, thin frame seemed older than it had that morning.
Lonelier, too.
When he saw his daughter appear, his body shook.
For an instant, panic crossed his face, the shame of a father caught in his most helpless moment.
He opened his mouth, as if wanting to explain or hide what had happened.
In the end, all his words became a bitter sigh.
“I’m sorry, Mirei…”
His voice was hoarse.
“Am I…
very useless?”
He did not dare meet her eyes.
His head lowered as he apologized to his only daughter again and again.
“It’s my fault.
I lack ability.
I can’t even protect the shrine passed down by our ancestors…”
“That’s not true.”
Mizuki’s heart clenched painfully.
Seeing her father look as if he had aged ten years in a single day hurt more than she had expected.
She forced down her own panic, walked over quickly, and knelt beside him.
“Father, that’s not true.
You’ve already done very well.”
Her voice was soft, mature beyond her years.
“This isn’t your fault.
It’s just…
the way things are now.
You’ve done everything you could.”
She tried to smile.
A sensible, relaxed smile, as if losing the place where she had grown up was nothing worth crying over.
“Actually, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t inherit the shrine.
My grades are good enough to enter a good university in Tokyo.
After graduation, I could find a normal job and become an ordinary office worker.
That kind of life wouldn’t be bad either, right?”
That was what she said.
But how could she truly be calm?
In order to become the successor of Shihou Shrine, she had received strict shrine maiden training since childhood.
She had learned Shinto rites, ceremonial etiquette, purification rituals, shrine records, old prayers, festival procedures, and countless details that most people would never care about.
Her childhood and youth had been given to this shrine.
And now, everything she had worked for, all the skills she had learned, all the quiet pride she had carried, were about to lose their meaning.
The fall from the clouds into the mud was enough to crush anyone unprepared.
“It’s good that you can think of it that way…”
Seeing that his daughter did not appear resentful or broken, Mizuki Daikei’s wounded heart finally found a small measure of comfort.
He sighed wearily.
Then he said no more.
He only raised a hand, silently indicating that he wanted to be alone, and staggered toward the inner sanctuary.
Mizuki watched her father’s desolate back.
The smile on her face lasted until he disappeared from sight.
Then it crumbled, piece by piece.
Her eyes emptied.
She returned to her room, quietly changed into the red and white shrine maiden outfit she knew so well, then picked up a broom and began sweeping the shrine courtyard.
The movement was mechanical.
One stroke.
Then another.
The dry leaves gathered.
Dust shifted.
Gravel scratched faintly beneath the broom.
She swept for hours.
From sunset until the bright moon climbed high above the trees.
She seemed tireless, repeating the same simple motion again and again.
Moonlight fell on her thin shoulders and stretched her shadow long across the old stone path.
Perhaps…
This is the last time I’ll sweep here as a shrine maiden of Shihou Shrine.
The thought settled in her chest like a stone.
Her heart filled with quiet sorrow.
Then a voice sounded behind her.
“Oh my.
I only came looking for a place with rich leylines to replenish some magical energy, but I did not expect to find something so interesting.”
The voice was childish.
Frivolous.
Lazy.
And it appeared without warning.
Mizuki, who had been lost in her own thoughts, nearly dropped the broom.
She turned around on instinct.
“…Who are you?”
The question had barely left her mouth when her eyes widened.
Her pupils shrank.
What stood before her was not a lost child who had accidentally wandered into the mountains at night.
It was a petite young girl.
She looked only eleven or twelve years old.
An extravagant golden kimono draped around her small body, beautiful yet somewhat tattered.
Long blonde hair flowed freely in the moonlight like pale flame.
But the most striking things were the curved crimson horns growing from her forehead, and the enormous scarlet oni claw attached to her right arm.
That claw was twisted, ominous, and covered in strange markings.
It was far too large for her small frame, a grotesque contradiction that made the girl look less like a child and more like a calamity wearing one.
At that moment, she was sitting on a large rock in the courtyard with an unruly posture, watching Mizuki with open interest.
“Haha.
Since you asked so sincerely, I shall graciously tell you.”
The oni girl seemed pleased by Mizuki’s terror.
She grinned, showing an innocent yet cruel smile.
“Listen well, human girl.”
Her golden eyes gleamed beneath the moon.
“I am Ibaraki-Douji, sworn friend of Shuten-Douji and leader of the oni of Mount Ooe.”
Ibaraki-Douji.
The moment that name reached her ears, Mizuki felt her mind go blank.
If she had heard it before today, she would have assumed it was a child playing at being a legendary monster.
But now, she knew better.
This afternoon, through the video sent by Senpai Kinuko, she had witnessed just how terrifying the legendary leader of Mount Ooe truly was.
She had seen this seemingly innocent oni girl walk through a hail of bullets as if strolling under spring rain.
She had watched her tear fully armed police officers apart one after another, as easily as ripping paper.
To this being, killing humans was no more difficult than stepping on ants by the roadside.
And now…
That living evil oni had appeared at Shihou Shrine without anyone noticing.
What does she want?
Eat people?
There’s only Father and me here.
“I-Ibaraki…
Ibaraki-Douji-sama?”
Mizuki’s teeth chattered uncontrollably.
It took all her strength to force the words out of her throat.
“May I ask…
what brings you to our humble shrine in the middle of the night?”
Her voice was cautious.
Even her breathing had become guarded.
Sure enough, when misfortune came, even cold water could get stuck between one’s teeth.
Forget preserving the shrine’s inheritance.
At this rate, the Mizuki family might be eaten clean by a legendary evil oni tonight.
“What brings me here?”
On the rock, Ibaraki-Douji tilted her head, as if pondering a profound question.
A moment later, a brilliant smile bloomed across her beautiful face.
“When an evil oni visits a shrine, what else could she want besides filling her stomach?”
She hopped lightly down from the rock.
Then, with cheerful steps, she began walking toward Mizuki Mirei.
One step at a time.