Mob Yandere

Chapter 229

Far from the capital, nearly forty ri¹ to the southeast, a grand procession marched down the endless highway.

Ox carts and heavy carriages groaned under their own weight. A daimyo's army followed, their long spears held high. There were warriors with grim expressions surveying the road from their saddles, commoners in court caps, and groups of women hidden beneath veiled hats.

On the outskirts of the line, exorcists brimming with supernatural power kept watch. Their servants walked beside them, radiating a quiet, intimidating pressure.

It was a slow, agonizing march. Even with the central roads well-paved, the group consisted of over five hundred people and an equal number of horses and oxen. Progress was further hindered by the warriors. They remained in a constant state of battle-readiness, clad in full suits of traditional and modern armor. Their sluggish pace was a simple matter of physics.

"Still, even putting the bandits aside, it's a relief we haven't run into any yokai²," a voice called out.

The speaker walked ahead of Tamaki, who remained mounted. Leading the sturdy blue-robed horse donated by the Tachibana Trading Company was a slender figure in black. Her posture was straight and her voice dignified, carrying an air of earnest intelligence.

Tamaki had specifically requested Yahagi, a squad leader in the Onitsuki Servant Corps, to be her attendant for one primary reason: she was a woman. When it came to personal care—especially changing clothes—the help of someone of the same s*x was indispensable. Having grown acquainted with Yahagi during the incidents with the Namahage and the Yamanba, Tamaki viewed her as the natural choice for a traveling companion.

"I'm surprised. I didn't expect things to be this peaceful. It's a world away from the Northern Region." Yahagi looked back. "If you'll forgive my boldness, was there truly a need for a boorish warrior like myself?"

"I've been wondering the same thing," a deep, husky voice added.

Tamaki glanced to her right. The man was as broad and imposing as his voice suggested, though like Yahagi, his face was hidden behind a mask. Every movement he made was precise, his eyes constantly scanning for threats.

Tamaki knew that Yashima was an outlier even within the Onitsuki Servant Corps. He was an ancient servant who had been trapped within the distorted time of the Mayoiga³ on Mount Horaku. He had originally served the Asakuma family, but through a cruel twist of fate, he now served at Tamaki's side.

Over a century had passed while he was trapped; the Asakuma family of exorcists had long since vanished, reportedly wiped out during a Kappa incident in the north. To Yashima, only a few months had passed. In reality, he had been left behind by time, a man alone in a world he no longer recognized.

"Well, I suppose being picked up by the prestigious Onitsuki family was the best stroke of luck I could ask for," Yashima said.

His tone remained detached, despite the cruelty of his fate.

"I had no food and nowhere to go when the late Master Yun-shoku approached me. He said they were short-handed and asked if I'd join. It was an incredible offer. The food, the clothes, the lodging—it's all better than it was under the Asakuma. I'm truly grateful."

"We're the ones who are grateful," Yahagi replied. "We lost Kashiwagi, and we weren't sure how to fill that hole. Having you join us when you did was a lifesaver."

Yahagi was usually strict about hierarchy and etiquette, but she showed Yashima exceptional respect. Though his origins prevented him from being officially promoted to a squad leader, his experience surviving the Mayoiga had significantly improved the training and proficiency of the entire corps.

"No, the credit goes to the Onitsuki. It's amazing," Yashima said. "I ask for equipment and everyone has it within a month. It was terrible back with the Asakuma. We sharpened our own swords, made our own arrows, and mended the same clothes over and over."

Yashima spoke of these hardships casually, but his eyes never left the road. When a bird suddenly took flight from the forest, he was the first to react, noticing the movement even before the exorcists. Without that level of constant devotion, he never would have made it out of the Mayoiga alive.

"Mending... and washing?" Tamaki stammered.

She sat stunned in her saddle, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. She couldn't even begin to imagine the scene. Stripping blood-soaked clothes from a corpse just to tailor them for someone else? It felt like a sacrilege.

"It isn't that unusual," Yahagi said. "Our gear isn't as high-quality as what the Hidden Group or the exorcists use, but it's still specially made to resist yokai. We can't just throw it away. Even at the Onitsuki, we used to recycle equipment quite often."

"Used to?" Tamaki asked.

"Our relationship with the Tachibana Trading Company has given us a lot more breathing room. Lately, we've even been issued spare uniforms."

With weapons, armor, rations, and charms becoming higher in quality and more abundant, the servants no longer had to resort to such desperate measures. While old gear could be reused, the enchantments tended to fade as the material wore down. Being able to commission new equipment was a luxury, and having a spare set for when things were damaged or being washed was something they all appreciated.

"The Tachibana Trading Company... I've heard of the young lady. Didn't the connection start during the last trip to the capital?" Tamaki asked.

The image of her benefactor flashed through her mind. Much of what she knew about the complex web of the Onitsuki family had been taught to her by him. She had paid special attention to the Tachibana Trading Company because of her friend's involvement.

The second princess of the Onitsuki had saved the merchant's family from a pack of Yako, forming the initial bond. She had also heard rumors that her wolf friend had been involved in an incident regarding the Tachibana daughter while he was still doing "dirty work." That was how her benefactor and her friend had met. Driven by both gratitude and profit, the trading company had drawn closer to the Onitsuki.

Come to think of it, wasn't she quite close to Tomobe-kun as well?

He always claimed it was just work, but Tamaki could tell the young lady felt a deep sense of debt toward him. It was just like him. He wouldn't have given her special treatment; he was likely the same with that honey-haired girl as he was with everyone else. Perhaps the company's support of the Onitsuki was partly due to the young lady's personal feelings. And he...

"He'd probably just take advantage of it, wouldn't he?" Tamaki whispered with a small smile.

She could easily imagine how he would act. In some ways, he and Iruka were two sides of the same coin. He was the type to shamelessly turn someone's gratitude into a tangible benefit. But he wouldn't do it for himself. He would turn that profit back into something for the group, for his comrades, and his subordinates. The better equipment Yahagi and the others were praising was almost certainly the result of his scheming.

He cares about his people. That's so like him.

Of course, he probably hadn't approached the young lady with only profit in mind. Knowing him, there wouldn't have been any ulterior motive at the start. Even after a brief conversation with the Tachibana daughter, it was clear she was a sharp, perceptive woman. She wasn't someone who could be easily tricked by a man with a hidden agenda. It was another side of him that Tamaki was only learning about now that he was gone. She wondered just how much of him she had actually known.

"Tamaki-sama?"

Yahagi's voice broke the silence. Sensing the woman's curious gaze through her mask, Tamaki forced a polite smile and quickly looked toward the horizon.

"It's a beautiful view, isn't it?" Tamaki asked.

"Yes... it certainly is," Yahagi replied.

Yahagi and the others couldn't disagree. It was a simple truth. The view from the highway was breathtaking, the kind of scene a painter would want to capture as a woodblock print. Summer was fading into autumn. The lush green ridges were beginning to dress themselves in brilliant shades of crimson and gold.

"It's autumn," Tamaki sighed.

"State the obvious, why don't you? That's exactly why we're here as the vanguard for the Niinamesai⁴. Or are you just thinking about your appetite?"

The voice came from a rider approaching from behind. Tamaki turned to see a familiar face. It was her senior disciple, dressed in a magnificent set of warrior's armor and accompanied by a maid, a driver, and a guard. The spiritual armor she wore was said to be worth as much as a small castle.

"I was actually appreciating the atmosphere," Tamaki said.

"I wonder. Regardless, we're approaching our lodging for the night. Slow your pace and straighten the line. Keep your spears and banners upright and stop the chatter. We're in front of the common people. Try to look the part," Murasaki said.

Murasaki's group moved toward the front of the line, but she paused to look back at Tamaki one last time.

"And whatever you do, don't do something stupid like startling your horse and falling off! It would be a disgrace to have the guards of the Imperial messenger shaming themselves in front of the innkeepers!"

Without waiting for an answer, Murasaki hurried away, looking as though she were the one trying to escape an awkward situation.

...It happened just the other day. At the very moment their procession reached the outskirts of the post town⁵, their vanguard flying the colors high, a bee stung the senior disciple's chestnut mare. The beast went wild.

The horse thrashed with such violence it looked ready to literally blow Murasaki away. Everyone else froze, hesitating as those heavy hooves threatened to lash out and kill.

The raven-black stallion she was riding simply sidled up to the panicked mare. He soothed her so effortlessly, so calmly, that the onlookers could only watch in awe. They broke into cheers at the sheer mastery of it.

As for Murasaki, she was saved by a hair's breadth, but she was so utterly shell-shocked she... well, she had an accident. On the Minister's orders, her position as the vanguard for that town was handed off to someone else.

"Is she trying to make a point? Do you think she's holding a grudge?" Yashima asked.

"She's just not honest with herself," Tamaki replied. "She's worried about you. It's her way of telling you not to let your guard down."

"I guess..."

Yashima didn't look convinced, but Tamaki knew Murasaki better than that. Unless you've bled and sweated together in training, you wouldn't understand.

Ako Murasaki is fair to a fault; she'd never betray a debt of gratitude. She might have her hang-ups, but there wasn't a drop of malice in her.

If anything, Tamaki's the one in a bind. After that incident, people started looking at her like some kind of horse whisperer. But she didn't give the horse a single command. He just ran off on his own and settled things before she knew what was happening.

"This is all your fault, you know? Have some shame," Tamaki whispered, stroking the stallion's mane.

Prrrp...

The horse answered with a lazy, carefree snort. She caught the eye of Yahagi, their driver, who simply gave a quiet shrug. Apparently, the concept of "shame" was lost on this horse.

(I mean, really. I don't for a second believe that horses can understand human speech, but still.)

"Good grief, you've got quite the personality," Tamaki said, stroking his neck in a gesture of surrender. There was no point arguing with a horse; you've already lost the moment you start.

She had inherited him during the liquidation of Tomobe's estate after he passed. She'd always thought the horse was just lazy and thick-skinned, but maybe he's just good at looking after his own kind?

Perhaps he's more like his old master than she realized... it was a stray, haunting thought. No, no. Stop it. Her mind was wandering. Was she looking to fail again? She had to pull herself together.

"Even a fortress can fall from a single ant-hole," Tamaki reminded herself.

She glanced back. In the distance, framed by the long line of the procession, was the most ostentatious carriage of all. It carried the representative of their entire group, surrounded by rows of elite guards.

Even if she was just one small part of that wall, she couldn't afford to be irresponsible. Numbers don't mean anything if the heart isn't in it; a thousand unmotivated men are just a thousand scarecrows. It's the individual's resolve that matters. At least, that's how she felt.

"Leave the vigilance to us, Tamaki-sama. If you stay this wound up, your body won't hold out," Yashima said.

"Is it that obvious?" Tamaki asked.

"They say the world is a battlefield, but no one can stay on guard in their bed or the latrine. You need to find a rhythm—rest now so you can strike with everything you have when it counts."

Yashima continued, "Fortunately, these roads are safe. With this many guards, the Minister isn't going to be assassinated out of the blue. And besides, just as Lady Ako said... there's the town. It's finally in sight."

Yashima pointed toward the horizon. A large post town was beginning to shimmer into view. At our current pace, we'd be there in about fifteen minutes.

"We'll handle the perimeter. If we're ambushed, we'll hold the line with our lives. Cut down the attackers, and then you ride over our corpses to reach the Minister."

Yashima added, "That is your duty. For now... just let your shoulders relax."

Yahagi nodded in silent agreement. It was a cold, hard truth—perfectly logical, perfectly servant-like.

"I suppose... you're right," Tamaki replied.

She couldn't argue. They were servants; dying was part of the job description. They had lived their lives prepared for that moment. But still!

Prrrp!

The raven stallion just shook her in the saddle, almost as if he were teasing her. It was impudent, but in that moment, it was her salvation.

"Yashima. Yahagi. I'm going to... take a moment. I'm counting on you," Tamaki said.

They responded with a sharp, respectful bow. She chose to trust them. Not as expendable pawns, but as comrades. She would rely on them now, so that when the steel started flying, she could be at the front, protecting them. With this power.

"Yes. With this... power," Tamaki said.

She looked down at her palm. It looked like any other hand, but when she focused, she could feel that unsettling, cold sensation. The "Usurpation."

But even poison can be a medicine if the dose is right... if only she could learn to control it.

The High Priest had told her that forbidden knowledge lay in the Old Capital. Perhaps there, she'd find a way to face what she is. This was more than just a mission; it was her own secret pilgrimage.

The scent of dinner—evening fires and roasted meat—wafted toward her from the distant town. To her ears, the domestic warmth of it felt almost surreal.

* * *

Suzuka was the fourth post town on the road to the Old Capital. Situated just past the halfway mark, it boasted a population of a thousand, yet was built to house and refresh twice that many travelers at a moment's notice. In times of war, it was designed to serve as a formidable fortress.

It was a vital crossroads where several regional paths converged, but it wasn't unique. Every town on the road to the Old Capital was impeccably maintained, from Seta and Koga to Jarumi. These weren't just random stops; they were the evolved remains of ancient temporary lodges built for Imperial Envoys.

It wasn't just bureaucracy at work. Constantly building temporary housing for the massive Imperial processions was a drain on the treasury. As the Envoys grew in size over the centuries, permanent infrastructure became a necessity. But it wasn't just for the nobles anymore. The Okage-mairi⁶—the Great Thanksgiving Pilgrimages—meant the roads were never empty.

From high-ranking nobles to the lowliest beggars, everyone made the trip. The shrine at the Old Capital was the heart of the nation's protection. It governed the peace of Fuso, the legitimacy of the Court, and the very blessings of the heavens. To worship there was common sense.

Even a lowly farmhand or a house servant could "slip away" for a secret pilgrimage without fear of punishment. In fact, giving "road money" to these pilgrims was considered a holy merit. To block someone's path to the shrine was seen as an act of treason against the peace of the realm itself.

"Of course, the reason the pilgrimage became such a craze is largely due to the Man-Yokai Great Rebellion. Not that I should say that too loudly," Yona said.

The bathhouse was thick with steam. Yona scanned the room to make sure no one was eavesdropping before she continued, running a comb through her damp hair.

Five hundred years ago, the Great Rebellion had bled the country dry. Even after the war ended, the world was a nightmare—remnants of the Yokai armies were everywhere.

The Imperial Court needed a way to stabilize the people and, more importantly, they needed money to rebuild. They turned to faith.

The Shrine of the Old Capital had once been strictly off-limits to everyone but the Imperial family. That rule was "relaxed" out of cold, hard pragmatism. It was rebranded as the shrine that saved the world of men. To be a citizen of Fuso and not offer your gratitude was portrayed as the ultimate act of insolence.

Who actually came up with the "official" story is lost to time. Maybe they wiped the records on purpose. But it worked. It pulled a shattered people together, restored a sense of morality, and filled the national coffers. It was a "tradition" manufactured for survival.

"I feel like you just ruined the sanctity of the Old Capital for me," Tamaki replied.

"Needs must, Tamaki-sama. The 'stoic samurai' might pretend they don't need to eat, but the Court actually has to run a country. They couldn't afford that kind of pride," Yona said.

"How cold..."

Tamaki's face was a mask of conflicted emotions. Before she could say more, Yahagi poured a bucket of steaming water over her head.

Tamaki closed her eyes as the warmth cascaded over her. The hot water traced the soft curve of her neck and shoulders, streaming down over the full swell of her breasts before dripping from her fingertips. The dust and grime of the road washed away, replaced by a deep, heavy heat.

"Hah... ah..."

The breath escaped her lips—a soft, wet sound that even she realized was a bit too suggestive. A profound sense of relief washed through her, unraveling her muscles from the inside out.

As she let the tension leave her shoulders, she leaned forward slightly, her pale, water-slicked curves swaying gently in the light.

"I'm going to comb your hair now," Yahagi said. "Try not to move."

Yahagi finished washing Tamaki's short hair and began to carefully comb it.

The inn had been closed to the public tonight. The bathhouse, usually reserved for noblewomen, was granted exclusively to those accompanying the Imperial Envoy⁷.

Only Tamaki, Murasaki, and their circle of exorcists were present. Surrounded by their own, the exhaustion of the road began to melt away. In the relaxing soak, frank talk had a habit of spilling out.

"I'm going to start the exfoliation now. Please let me know if it's too rough," Yahagi said.

"Mm. Please do."

Sunk into a hazy comfort, Tamaki felt Yahagi move on to the next task. She applied a mixture of peas, ash, and soap to Tamaki's skin. Using a rice-bran bag wrapped in Goro-cloth to scrub away the grime.

Tamaki surrendered herself completely. Yahagi's movements were as skillful as a professional masseuse. When Tamaki stretched out her legs, Yahagi used a pumice stone to smooth her heels.

This kind of care was only natural for someone of Tamaki's station. Even Suzune had acted as a bath-maid on formal occasions in the early days of her service. Being pampered like this wasn't the surprise. The surprise was something else entirely.

"You're quite good at this, aren't you? That's an exquisite massage," Tamaki said.

She let out a long sigh of relief as the scrubbing gave way to masterfully targeted pressure. The Princess of Hotoya found herself thinking the woman could make a living out of it.

"We all practice on each other quite often," Yahagi replied.

"You mean within the Servant Corps?"

"When you're entrusting your back to your comrades, being able to rub away their fatigue and keep them sharp is a survival skill in itself."

Yahagi spoke matter-of-factly as she placed Tamaki's foot on her own knee. She carefully dissolved and scraped away the dead skin from the soles.

Having shed her black shinobi attire, Yahagi's silhouette boasted supple, feminine lines that belied her sharp voice. Though slender, the soft flesh hid the lean, honed muscle of a warrior. Her black hair, usually tied back in a ponytail, now clung wetly to her white shoulders. Her skin was dotted with small scars—a map of her life until now. Across her cheek sat a stark, horizontal bruise.

"...Is something wrong?" Yahagi asked.

She neatly trimmed Tamaki's toenails with clippers. She tilted her head slightly, seemingly puzzled by her superior's intense gaze.

"No, nothing. Once you're finished, would you like me to wash you?"

"That is unnecessary concern for a mere servant. Could I ask you to spread your legs?"

Having finished the nails, Yahagi picked up a hair-thinning stone. Tamaki complied, surrendering herself to the request. Yahagi slipped between Tamaki's thighs without a hint of hesitation. She worked with the same grim intensity as Suzune. She was dead serious.

In fact, it was a matter of life and death. Youkai⁸ were sensitive to scents—especially the scent of women and children. Since ancient times, noblewomen were encouraged to eliminate any female musk that might give them away.

During the era when the Four Disasters overran the capital, princesses were forced to shave their eyebrows in bitterness. One Empress had even risked her life just to keep her hair long. While the practice of shaving hair and brows had mostly faded, for other parts of the body, the standard was nearly the same for both men and women.

The policy was to keep the elite groomed while leaving the laborer women natural to serve as decoys if necessary. The Servant Corps followed suit. Conversely, Hidden Group members on infiltration missions or maids favored by the higher-ups were permitted to groom themselves.

In Tamaki's own circle, Yona—who was currently scrubbing herself—was clearly clean. Her friend, a maid, had also received permission to keep things tidy. On the other hand, their half-wolf friend either had the status to ignore the rules or simply found it too much trouble, leaving herself wild as she pleased.

Perhaps, in a pinch, there was even an intent to use her as a decoy for the others.

"I've been wondering, does Onitsuki even have the servants groom themselves?"

The question came from the Warrior Princess of Ako. She had been washed by her own maid and slipped into the tub ahead of the others. She watched Yahagi focus on Tamaki, then glanced at Tamaki and Yona. Looking momentarily defeated, her eyes drifted to Yahagi's lower half.

It was perfectly smooth. For a mere squad leader—not even a Yun-shoku—it seemed unnatural.

"I was thinking the same thing," Yona said. "Is this specifically for this mission?"

"No. This has been our policy for some time. We are always short-staffed, so we prioritize stealth and survival over using people as decoys," Yahagi replied. "My predecessor, Master Tomobe, negotiated for it. We all received permission to be treated this way."

Yahagi answered Yona immediately, but toward the end, she averted her eyes. Her expression turned sour as if she had anticipated the reaction. Tamaki's face fell, and even Murasaki's expression stiffened. Only the Ako maid gave a small snort. It was as if a mere Yun-shoku had no business making such a disproportionate request to their superiors.

"I see. Tomobe-kun did that," Tamaki said.

"Sounds just like him. He's always coming up with the most pedantic little schemes," Murasaki replied.

There was no real malice in her voice. With a humble bow, Yahagi finished her work on Tamaki.

"Thank you. Yahagi, hurry up and wash so you can get in, too," Tamaki said.

"Understood."

Yahagi accepted the invitation to soak. She was strict about her position, but she knew it was poor form to keep refusing her superior's kindness. It was a perk of the job. At the very least, Yona was enjoying the water every night with her mistress under the guise of being an attendant.

Above all, before she was a stoic servant, Yahagi was a young woman. She wanted to wash away the sweat and dust and slowly savor the Spiritual Vein waters of the best inn in town. They were said to aid beauty, recovery, and even hair growth.

"Hm? Wait, isn't that story a bit strange?" Tamaki asked.

"In what way?"

Yahagi sounded slightly anxious as she began to scrub her own skin. She looked as if she were worried she had said something wrong.

"No, it's not a big deal. It's just, if everyone was shaving, why was Tomobe-kun... natural?"

"Ah. That. He insisted that as a household member, he should be the exception," Yahagi explained. "He said it would be a problem if there wasn't a single person who could act as a decoy. Given his rank, he was often by the side of the superiors anyway."

"I see."

Tamaki was convinced for two reasons. Both the cold logic of it and the typical nature of the act. It was his way of making an excuse to his bosses while protecting his subordinates. It was just so like him.

"Ahem! That reminds me, Princesses. Do you know the local specialty of this town?" Yona asked.

She began to speak cheerfully, as if to clear the heavy air. Of the four, she was the most observant and the biggest chatterbox. Tamaki and the others knew from experience that Yona's leads were usually a hit. She began to weave a rapid-fire string of topics.

"She's a member of my own house, but truly, that maid doesn't miss a thing," Murasaki said.

"Hahaha... well, it's thanks to her that we're having a good time," Tamaki replied. "We got those lovely pearls at the last town, and that salt-grilled trout she recommended was exquisite. And three stops back, we didn't miss that play because of her, remember?"

"The one based on Barensou-shi's fiction, right? What was the title again?"

Murasaki joined in on the praise. She tried to recall the name of the performance they'd seen three days ago, but the title was so avant-garde it wouldn't come to her. Tamaki searched her own memory.

"The Deadly Duel of Old Man Oni and Peach Oni: The Great Horse-Wash and the Battle of Egos, I believe," Yahagi said.

"That's it! Man... that was something else."

Tamaki nodded deeply. It was a series of non-stop plot twists. The ending had been completely unpredictable; she had been spellbound. That troupe was heading to the capital just as they were leaving, so she definitely wanted to see them again when she returned. As Tamaki reminisced about the masterpiece, Yona's voice grew even more animated.

"Speaking of plays! I heard that a master of street-storytelling was staying in this town recently," Yona said. "Someone saw him telling a tale in the corner of a lodge before going off to buy some of the local onsen-manju. They say he's from the Migantei school."

"The Migantei? That's that new-age school everyone's talking about, right?" Murasaki asked. "I heard their Western-style productions are a bit polarizing. Yona, you really do hear everything. Why don't you just change careers and join the Hidden Group?"

"Fufufu. I'm honored! But personally, serving at my Princess's side is the best job in the world!"

"You certainly have a thick skin," Murasaki said.

Yona took her mistress's jab with a smooth smile. Her chatter didn't stop. For better or worse, the maid's words pulled everyone's focus.

* * *

Finally, the topic turned to a new rumor.

"Oh, that's right... Speaking of stories. Have any of you heard the rumor?" Yona asked.

"A rumor?"

"Yes. It seems the men in the squad have been whispering about something interesting regarding this Imperial Envoy mission. They say there's a girl accompanying us that no one knows."

According to the talk, a mysterious girl was never seen during the march, yet her silhouette was spotted in every inn-town they visited. The first to notice was an ox-cart driver. He claimed a girl with her face hidden by an Ichimegasa⁹ hat was wandering around the lodge where the group was staying.

She seemed lost, but when he tried to call out to her, she vanished into thin air. The sightings grew. Soldiers, warriors, maids, and commoners all told similar stories. She was never in the procession. She wore travel clothes, but nothing like the official vestments of the mission.

Yet she was seen inside the private, restricted areas of the inns—places where low-ranking members weren't even allowed to set foot. Then, in the blink of an eye, she would be gone. As if they were being played for fools by a fox or a tanuki¹⁰.

"Is that story true? If so, isn't that a major security breach?" Murasaki asked.

Yona only gave a daring smile.

"It's nothing more than a rumor, of course. No proof, only whispers from those who claim to have seen something... But they say this might be the work of a Vengeful Spirit¹¹."

"A Vengeful Spirit...?" Tamaki asked.

"Yes. Before we set out, the Minister visited several of the imperial tombs, didn't he?"

"The Saiguu¹²... you mean the princesses who passed away on their way to the Old Capital?"

Tamaki remembered. One devoured by an Oni on the road. Another lost to a landslide. Others who succumbed to plague within the palace walls, dying in bitter frustration before they could ever reach the Old Capital.

The group had stopped at those graves to pray for safe passage. Could that have been...?

"Yes. They say the princesses who died with such resentment have become Vengeful Spirits, and now they're haunting this procession. And that those they possess are doomed to the same tragic fate—"

"Don't be ridiculous! A curse!? The Saiguu would never do such a thing! What an impious, disgraceful rumor!"

Murasaki was visibly shaken. She plunged her chilled face into the hot water, but the stray tuft of hair atop her head stayed wilted, as if paralyzed by fear.

"I've heard the rumors too," Yahagi said, washing herself. "Though in the version I heard, it wasn't princesses, but commoners who perished during a pilgrimage."

"A wandering shrine maiden or a dancer, gasping her last breath as she prayed for a miracle... they say her bitter soul took form."

"Hieee!?" Murasaki cried.

Her outburst was born of a sharp memory. She remembered offering a silent prayer at a roadside mound for a fallen traveler. No, it couldn't be. Could it...?

Murasaki glanced behind her. The bath was wide, the far corners swallowed by thick steam. For a second, she felt a presence. Or was it just her imagination?

"Well, Vengeful Spirits are just silly stories," Yahagi said, dousing herself with water. "Even if it were true, there's nothing to fear as long as you carry a charm or an amulet."

In the world of exorcism, this was common sense. A spirit without flesh is like a soldier without armor. Whether they try to curse or possess, they wouldn't stand a chance against the protection of a holy ward.

Spirits weren't the problem. It was the youkai—the ones with flesh, blood, fangs, and claws—that were truly terrifying. Murasaki nodded vigorously in agreement, her cowlick bobbing with her.

"Wait. We don't have our amulets on us right now, do we?" Tamaki asked.

"I'm sure it's fine as long as we're in the bath."

Yahagi's reply came three beats too late. It was not a reassuring answer. Murasaki began to tremble uncontrollably.

"Hee-hee. Princess, please, calm yourself. It's just a rumor. We pray at those tombs every year; there's no reason this year would be any different."

The maid who started the story couldn't help but giggle at her mistress's terror as she tried to comfort her. To her, the story was just a bit of spooky entertainment to pass the time.

"A mistake...? You think I just saw things?" Murasaki asked.

"Who knows... but I've spoken to people who swear they saw it with their own eyes. Though, there is another possibility."

"Another possibility?" Tamaki asked.

The maid nodded, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"The Minister is young, after all. A man in the prime of his life. A long journey like this can be... frustrating. Even if he's heading to the Old Capital, he can't exactly be public about his business."

"Perhaps he's traveling with a secret wife? That would explain the presence..."

Splash!

The sound of water hitting the floor echoed through the room. Or so it seemed. Yona's shoulders jerked.

The Princess of Ako let out a pathetic yelp and slipped in the tub, sending up a massive spray of water. Tamaki shrank back, and Yahagi instantly went into a combat crouch, her eyes sharp.

A heavy silence followed.

"I don't sense anything," Yahagi whispered.

"Because it's a ghost?" Tamaki asked.

"No. Even a spirit leaves a trace of ki... but I feel absolutely nothing."

Still covered in soap, Yahagi moved toward the source of the noise. She scanned the room over and over, then tilted her head, unconvinced.

"Maybe a drop of condensation fell from the ceiling? It's not a peeping tom, is it?"

"No, surely not... maybe we're just on edge. Talk like that makes you notice things you'd usually ignore. Can we talk about something a bit more cheerful?"

"You're right, Princess. My apologies. That was thoughtless of me," Yona replied, bowing her head.

"Right! Hahaha! You're all such cowards! Well, I suppose it can't be helped! Change the subject, Yona! Give us a different topic, right now!"

Murasaki stood up from the water, trying to mask her agitation with a blustering command.

Her bath wrap was a mess, her face was deathly pale, and her legs were shaking—she looked like she was desperately holding something back.

"Actually, Yona? Don't you... need to go to the washroom?" Murasaki asked.

"I would be honored to accompany you."

Yona responded gracefully to Murasaki's tearful plea. Though she was privately exasperated, she felt a surge of affection for her mistress as she climbed out of the bath first.

Water cascaded off her soft, ample curves. She reached out a hand to lead Murasaki away.

"On that note, please excuse us. Tamaki-sama, we'll be back shortly."

"I know. Just try to get back before you get lightheaded," Tamaki replied.

"We'll do our best. Princess, come... let us go together."

"Uuugh... Fine. I suppose I have no choice."

Murasaki pouted, her eyes still watery. It was a shared performance; the maid was taking the shame of needing the washroom to protect Murasaki's royal dignity.

The two of them disappeared from the bathroom.

"Yahagi, it's fine now. Rinse off and get in," Tamaki said.

"Alright."

Still uneasy, Yahagi lingered, looking back several times before finally returning to Tamaki's side. She rinsed the soap away and slipped into the water, covering herself modestly.

"The water feels good."

"Yes. It really does," Yahagi replied.

"It's just us for a bit, so relax. You can be the one to space out for once; I'll handle the heavy lifting on the road. I heard the onsen manju¹³ are famous here. Shall we have some later?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

Yahagi knew Tamaki's heart well by now. To a servant with little standing, Tamaki's lack of guile and hidden agendas was a relief. Especially now that the senior who used to stand on the front lines for them was gone.

Though, her complete lack of cunning does make me worry if she can really be relied on...

"Actually, Tamaki-sama. May I ask you something?" Yahagi asked.

"Hm? What is it?"

"It's nothing major, but..."

Yahagi rubbed her chin, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

"About what you said earlier. How did you know so much about the late Lord's household?"

Tamaki remained silent. Faced with Yahagi's genuine confusion, she could not bring herself to answer, simply praying for Murasaki's quick return.

---

Summary:

A massive procession of five hundred people, including the Onitsuki Servant Corps and exorcists, moves slowly toward a destination for the Niinamesai festival. Tamaki converses with her attendants, Yahagi and the 'displaced' ancient servant Yashima, about the logistics and history of their equipment. Yashima reveals the grim reality of his past life serving the Asakuma family, contrastingly praising the Onitsuki's current wealth. Tamaki reflects on the influence her deceased benefactor had on the Tachibana Trading Company's support. The group transitions into the autumn landscape as they approach their lodging. Murasaki arrives to enforce military discipline and warns Tamaki against embarrassing the group as Imperial representatives.

Tamaki reflects on a recent incident where her horse mysteriously calmed a chaotic situation, earning her unearned praise as a master rider. She struggles with the pressure of protecting a Minister in a large procession while managing a disturbing internal power called 'Usurpation'. Her companions, Yashima and Yahagi, emphasize the necessity of rest and the reality of their roles as expendable shields. Upon arriving at the Suzuka post town, the narrative dives into the historical pragmatism behind the nation's grand pilgrimages. Yona reveals that these 'traditions' were actually calculated moves by the Imperial Court to rebuild the economy after a devastating rebellion. The group eventually decompresses in a bathhouse, where Tamaki attempts to let go of her mounting tension.

While staying at a private bathhouse during an Imperial mission, Tamaki and her companions enjoy a rare moment of relaxation. Yahagi performs an intimate grooming ritual for Tamaki, revealing her own battle-scarred physique and her background in the Servant Corps. The conversation shifts to the group's unique grooming policy, established by the predecessor Tomobe to prioritize stealth over the traditional use of decoys. After discussing a successful local play they recently viewed, Yona introduces a chilling new rumor. She describes a mysterious, hat-wearing girl who appears only at their lodging towns but vanishes instantly when approached. The chapter leaves the group unsettled as they consider the security implications of this ghostly figure.

While bathing, Yona tells a ghost story about Vengeful Spirits of deceased princesses haunting their procession. Murasaki becomes terrified, especially after a mysterious splashing sound occurs in the bathroom. Yahagi investigates but finds no spiritual presence, leading to even more unease. To escape the frightening atmosphere, Murasaki and Yona leave under the guise of visiting the washroom. Once alone, Yahagi and Tamaki share a quiet moment, discussing the journey and local sweets. However, the mood shifts when Yahagi asks Tamaki a probing question about her private knowledge of their late lord's family.

---

Trivia:

- Yashima's survival in the Mayoiga suggests he possesses abnormal situational awareness and skill, making him a wildcard in the Servant Corps.

- The mention of the Asakuma family being wiped out by a Kappa incident hints at the fragility of even established exorcist lineages.

- Tamaki's reflection on the Tachibana daughter's feelings for Tomobe suggests a romantic rivalry or a deeper web of loyalty than previously stated.

- The change of seasons to autumn symbolizes a transition into a 'ripening' or concluding phase of the current story arc.

- The horse's personality mirroring its former master, Tomobe, suggests that animals in this world might retain traces of their owners' souls or legacies.

- Tamaki's 'Usurpation' power being compared to a poison that can be a medicine hints at a future choice where she must use this 'evil' power for a greater good.

- The mention of 'forbidden knowledge' in the Old Capital sets up the city as a place of both salvation and potential corruption for the protagonist.

- Yona scanning the room for eavesdroppers before speaking of the Rebellion suggests that the true history of the Court is still a sensitive or dangerous topic.

- The mention of 'female musk' attracting Youkai explains why the Servant Corps maintains such strict grooming standards, grounding the fan-service in survival lore.

- Yahagi's horizontal cheek bruise and numerous body scars emphasize her history as a frontline survivor, contrasting with the 'soft flesh' described by Tamaki.

- Tomobe's decision to remain 'natural' as a decoy highlights his self-sacrificial leadership style, which the characters still view with bittersweet respect.

- The mysterious girl in the Ichimegasa who appears only in private areas suggests either a highly skilled infiltrator or a supernatural entity following the envoy.

- The splashing sound occurring exactly when a 'secret wife' is mentioned hints at a physical hidden presence rather than a ghost.

- Yahagi not sensing 'ki' suggests either a non-spiritual entity or an entity skilled enough to mask its presence completely.

- Tamaki's silence at the end implies she holds secrets about her past or her relationship with the previous household that she is not ready to disclose

---

Character Insight:

Tamaki feels a mix of guilt and admiration for her benefactor, seeing his 'scheming' as a form of kindness toward his subordinates. Yahagi shows deep respect for Yashima despite his lower official rank, highlighting a meritocratic respect for survivors of 'Mayoiga'.

Tamaki moves from a state of isolated anxiety to one of vulnerable trust, explicitly deciding to rely on Yashima and Yahagi rather than viewing them as 'pawns'. Meanwhile, the dynamic between Yona and Tamaki shifts as Yona shatters Tamaki's idealistic view of the Old Capital with cynical historical facts.

The bond between Yahagi and Tamaki is deepened through the grooming scene, moving from formal military hierarchy to a space of mutual physical trust. Additionally, Yona's role as the group's 'intelligence gatherer' is solidified, showing how her gossip maintains morale and keeps the leaders informed of squad-level murmurs.

Murasaki and Yona demonstrate a 'master-servant' bond that relies on mutual theater to preserve the princess's dignity. Yahagi's relationship with Tamaki is moving toward peer-like comfort, yet remains strained by the mystery of Tamaki's origins.

---

Lore And Worldbuilding Context:

The 'Mayoiga' is confirmed as a place with distorted time where a few months can equal a century in the outside world. The 'Niinamesai' is an imperial ritual requiring a formal vanguard, and the Tachibana Trading Company has become the primary logistical backbone for the Onitsuki family.

The concept of 'Okage-mairi' is introduced as a state-sanctioned pilgrimage that allows even commoners to leave their duties for religious merit. The 'Man-Yokai Great Rebellion' is established as a catastrophic event 500 years prior that nearly destroyed the nation and forced the Imperial Court to monetize faith to survive.

The 'Servant Corps' policy on grooming is a tactical response to the 'Four Disasters' era, where scent-based tracking by Youkai was a primary threat. The 'Spiritual Vein' baths at the inn suggest a world where natural resources have magical or restorative properties specifically geared toward exorcists.

The 'exorcism industry' views spirits as fragile without a physical anchor, while youkai with flesh and claws are the primary physical threats.

---

TL Notes:

The term 'kuro-shozoku' was localized as 'slender figure in black' or 'uniforms' to maintain light novel flow while keeping the ninja-adjacent aesthetic intact.

The term 'Usurpation' (簒奪) was chosen to convey a sense of illegitimate or stolen power. The 'Okage-mairi' section required balancing the historical reality of the Edo-period phenomenon with the fantasy setting's specific lore.

The grooming scene uses specific historical tools like the rice-bran bag (nukabukuro), which were standard in the Heian-Edo periods for skincare. The term 'Yun-shoku' refers to a specific rank within this world's hierarchy that seems to be slightly above a standard squad leader.

Retained 'Onsen Manju' as a cultural specific to maintain the setting's flavor, using a footnote for clarity.

---

Glossary:

¹ ↵ Ri: A traditional Japanese unit of distance, approximately 3.9 kilometers (2.4 miles).

² ↵ Yokai: A class of supernatural entities and spirits in Japanese folklore.

³ ↵ Mayoiga: A legendary 'lost house' or 'illusory village' where time and space do not follow normal laws.

⁴ ↵ Niinamesai: An ancient Japanese harvest festival ritual performed by the Emperor to offer newly harvested rice to the gods.

⁵ ↵ Shukuba-machi; designated rest stations or 'post towns' established along major travel routes.

⁶ ↵ A mass pilgrimage phenomenon where citizens traveled to grand shrines, often used as a rare opportunity for commoners to travel.

⁷ ↵Imperial Envoy: A high-ranking messenger or representative sent directly by the Emperor on an official mission.

⁸ ↵Youkai: Supernatural monsters, spirits, or demons in Japanese folklore.

⁹ ↵Ichimegasa: A traditional wide-brimmed straw hat with a veil, often worn by noblewomen for travel or pilgrimages.

¹⁰ ↵Tanuki: A Japanese raccoon dog, often depicted in folklore as a shape-shifting trickster.

¹¹ ↵ Vengeful Spirit (Onryō): A ghost in Japanese folklore capable of causing harm in the world of the living.

¹² ↵ Saiguu: An unmarried female relative of the Japanese emperor sent to serve at Ise Grand Shrine.

¹³ ↵ Onsen Manju: A traditional Japanese steamed bun filled with sweet bean paste, a popular souvenir at hot spring resorts.

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