Chapter 237

The first impression I had when that person turned to face me was plain, unadorned innocence. Instinctively, I understood: there, innocence, purity, and naivety had taken human form.

"My, it's a pleasure to meet you," Her voice dripped like honey-languid, sweet enough to make my head spin. "You are to be my guardian, then? We shall be keeping company for quite some time, I imagine..," She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. "I do hope you'll take good care of me?"

"...H-huh!? Oh, it, it's an honour to meet you as well, ma'am!" I scrambled, bowing so fast I nearly toppled over. "I was chosen from the Ason household-eeep!? Eeeep!?"

My father kicked me in the backside before I could finish. I bit my tongue. Hard. The pain shot through my jaw, and I hunched over, burning with shame, trying to make myself as small as possible.

Above me, I heard her laugh-soft, warm, gentle. The black hair swayed. And those eyes... they crinkled with such kindness that it almost hurt worse than the embarrassment.

.

..

...

I'd heard about this beforehand. There was supposed to be a selection of guardians. Still, for some green-as-grass brat like me to be chosen without any warning? That was astonishing. How could someone barely more than a child be entrusted with something this massive? I couldn't help it-I glanced over at my father, my eyes screaming the question: How did this happen?

"Precisely because you are untrained," His voice came from behind a ridiculous face-mask-enchanted with mental fortification, they said-that made him look like a sea-spray demon. The words themselves, though? Gravely serious. Completely at odds with his getup. "Were you a man grown... surely you understand? He'd be a base knave who forgets his place and oversteps."

"..."

I wasn't convinced. I looked back and forth between my father and the lady, trying to piece it together. Even in my childish heart, I think I vaguely understood what he was getting at.

My father must have sensed my confusion. He pressed on.

"However, custom dictates that a guardian must be appointed. And so, boy, it falls to you," He paused, letting the weight settle. "You are still young, and your manly ambitions have yet to awaken... For that fortune and honour, you should be deeply grateful. And see that you never betray that trust. Do I make myself clear? Mark these words well, and do not forget them..."

The menace in his voice-the killing intent practically seeping from every syllable-brought all the tension rushing back. My chest tightened. I swallowed hard, frozen like a mouse cornered by a snake. I didn't fully understand, but I felt crushed by the weight of it all...

"Hehehehe..."

And there, watching me, that lady laughed again. Soft. Warm. Not a hint of malice-only kindness spilling from her gentle voice.

A smile so sweet, so meltingly tender, it could captivate even a deity...

"Must you frighten him so?" she chided, her tone light but carrying an edge of reproach. "He's still so young-hardly even weaned from his mother's side... Is that not rather pitiful?"

"All matters must serve Lady Miko's safety foremost," My father bowed his head, reverent and cold. "I pray you forgive any discourtesy. For this boy, neither compassion nor indulgence shall be permitted. For Lady Miko's sake, we intend to have him give his all, to spend him as needed-please allow him to serve in that capacity."

His words carried the weight of generations. The pride of a family that had served this shrine's priesthood for as long as anyone could remember. A burden even heavier than my own.

"...Very well," Her eyes shifted from my father to me. "If you speak so plainly, then it would be discourteous of me to hold back. I shall make full use of him, then. Is that understood?"

The question caught me completely off guard. But I puffed out my chest anyway, answering with every ounce of sincerity I could muster.

"Y-yes, ma'am!!" My voice cracked. I didn't care. "I shall be your eyes, your hands, your feet!! I shall serve you with all my heart and soul!!"

I looked up at her, simply and earnestly, showing my loyalty. It was the only thing a greenhorn like me could do.

"Hehehe! What a spirited voice!" She clasped her hands together, delighted. "Now, you... oh dear! Forgive me. I haven't yet asked your name, have I? And now I realize-I haven't even introduced myself properly!"

Her eyes went wide, almost childlike. For someone so elegant and radiant, it looked almost out of place. And yet, that very quality seemed to have a charm all its own-one that captivated anyone who saw it.

"Then allow me to go first," She pressed a hand to her chest. "My given name is Mayuka. I am one of the pureblood shrine maidens who have dwelled in the Old Capital at Shinomiya for generations. Perhaps..," Her voice softened, a shadow passing over her features. "...I might even be the very last. So then, a pleasure to meet you once more."

Her voice lilted, warm and endearing, as she gave her name without a trace of reservation.

...From within a room caged by iron bars. Wallpapered with countless talismans woven in endless rings. She sat there daintily, taking it all as perfectly natural.

...Like a bird in a gilded cage.

"And so, my little guardian who will care for me..," She leaned forward, eyes bright with curiosity. "What is your name?"

To her question-overflowing with kindness, with the gentle warmth of one who had taken everything in-I gave her my true name...

.

..

...

'Finally awake, are you? Well then... time for a moving reunion!'

Before a writhing mass of flesh, the beast boasted.

* * *

"..."

Night had grown deep. The witching hour.

Having finished the purification rites, a youth still clinging to the edges of childhood-clad in a white sleeping robe-gazed up at the heavens from within the bamboo blinds. The cloudy sky had hidden the moon away.

How dull.

His bored, sullen expression couldn't hide the exhaustion seeping through. The journey here, along with the series of duties since arriving, had been nothing short of frantic.

...Footsteps approached from afar. The creaking of floorboards. The presence of someone drawing near. From the rhythm of their steps, the occupant within the blinds knew instantly who it was.

...Against his better judgment, his heart fluttered with anticipation.

"Come in."

"...Hah. Yes, sir."

The command came before the other could speak. Given their respective positions, the other couldn't have spoken first; given his own role in purification, this was audacious. The one who'd spoken it-she herself-realized only a moment later just how bold she'd been. A light blush crept across her cheeks. She thanked the cloudy sky; the darkness would hide her flushed face.

With a soft rustling, the sliding door opened with reverence. She turned within the bamboo blinds to greet the one entering.

Her gaze fell upon a noble prince-arms folded, head bowed, standing with dignified bearing. Their eyes met across the bamboo blinds. The prince wore an expression of mild concern. And some surprise.

"I apologize for the lateness of the hour," His voice was measured, respectful. "I came by to check on your condition... You are still awake, I see."

"..."

In answer, the young occupant drew aside the blinds and peered out. The most noble person in Fusō-so slender they couldn't easily be identified as man or woman-met their retainer's gaze directly. For a moment, they hesitated, stammering out a short reply.

"...Nervous."

"...I quite understand how you must feel," The retainer's voice softened with sympathy.

To that small, vulnerable admission regarding tomorrow's duties as the Saiō-a shrine princess of the Imperial line-the young retainer responded with warmth.

"Please, do not worry. All arrangements have been made. You need only sit upon the throne and reign in that place. No more is required. Just as always. Yes..," He paused, choosing his words carefully. "If you comport yourself as you always have, then there is nothing to fear."

Arms folded, head bowed, the Minister of the Right-Tatsunono Katayasu-spoke thus. Even as he said it, he couldn't deny how terribly discourteous his words were. And well they might be: it was, in essence, a declaration that the sovereign was a mere figurehead.

It wasn't as though there had never been emperors throughout history who'd advanced policy with vigor-but they'd been the minority. The majority devoted their lives to personal pursuits. In matters of state, they existed only to occupy the throne. They spoke not a single word in council. Merely listened. Merely affirmed. Merely stamped their seals. That was precisely what Katayasu's words commanded the sovereign to imitate.

If anything, this particular duty as the Saiō was among the most farcical of all. For the young lord behind the blinds, just moments ago, he'd been face-to-face with the coin-offering envoy-the very same minister-and now he must maintain an air of composure across the blinds, accepting the imperial decree he had himself sealed. And to make matters worse, both interactions were conducted through proxies, under the pretext of "reverent distance," Even though the two of them had traveled here together in the same ox-cart!

Mockery. Disrespect. Discourteous treatment. For a retainer, it was disgraceful... Tatsunono Katayasu held himself in contempt for his position and his actions.

"...I offer my deepest apologies," He bowed his head, profound and low. "That Your Highness should be subjected to such burden and indignity on this occasion-I am truly mortified. When the day comes that Your Highness ascends to your rightful place, this unworthy servant may be punished however you see fit, and I shall bear no grudge."

There was no deceit in his words. The face peering out from behind the blinds-he-or rather, she-was fully aware of that. Indeed, she had no doubt that he was the most loyal of retainers. In the entire court, no one was more worthy of trust.

...Except that she didn't want such devotion.

Aside from that, he was the ideal retainer.

"...There's a commotion outside. Still not settled?" She changed the subject-anything to escape this unpleasant line of conversation. This business about the blade attack and its perpetrator, which she'd learned of upon arrival. Even this most noble personage had overheard the commotion while hidden away in a Tang-style chest. The fact that they were still making such a racket and had yet to catch the culprit? Exasperating.

...That was all she knew.

"Please, do not concern yourself," His voice was firm, reassuring. "The Saigū dormitory attendants and the guards assigned to you will protect Your Highness. They shall not lay a single finger upon you. You need have no worries whatsoever."

"...Riiight."

If that was the case, he wished she would have stayed here by his side the whole time... but he didn't say that. He knew it would be a bother. Even if he never voiced it, even if it stayed buried in his heart alone, he didn't want to be hated.

(Yes. He didn't want to be hated. So... he would obey.)

Truth be told, he didn't trust that lowly messenger he'd met in secret either. The words felt hollow, reeking of lies. Words from something not quite human-and worse, from someone who dared slander the Minister of the Left, a man known for his virtue. Above all, having to expose every shameful part of himself, in every sense of the word, was mortifying enough to make him swoon. He'd hated coming here in the first place. He wanted to refuse everything. All of it.

And so, he swallowed every grudge, every discomfort, every anxiety, every tantrum.

A puppet had no right to talk back.

If he could simply be convenient for the person before him... then that was enough...

"Tomorrow begins with preparations from early morning. I understand your feelings, but I must insist you retire at once," The Minister straightened, his tone final. "...Now then. Lest I disturb your rest, I shall take my leave."

With that, the Minister of the Right fell silent, bowed with profound reverence, and withdrew. His movements were the very picture of sincerity-a display of utmost courtesy toward his lord. Not a trace of personal sentiment in his departure...

"Ah..."

She let out a small, wistful sigh. She poked only her face out from behind the bamboo blinds, feeling the ache of their all-too-brief, all-too-dry encounter. Her slender hand-which had reached out to stop him before she could think-grasped only empty air. Catching nothing at all.

It was exactly like that time when she'd been delirious with fever, asleep behind those very blinds-the same helpless boy. Recognizing that once more, the presence behind the blinds sank into an abyss of hollow nothing.

"Kata-yasu... kata, yasu, u...!"

The boy who would be a puppet curled up behind the blinds, clutching his pillow tightly as he sulked, twisting his body restlessly. He squirmed, rubbing his folded legs together in agitation, burying his face in the pillow with a brooding ache. Sleep wouldn't come. His heart pounded; heat radiated from within, flushing his body.

In that state, he looked less like a timid boy-emperor and more like a blushing maiden...

* * *

"...One of them is missing, you say?"

The Minister of the Right, having confirmed his lord's safety and condition, walked through the covered corridor of the sleeping palace. His face-which had been softened with concern moments before-twisted into a grim expression as he pressed for more.

Azuma Hibari appeared at his side without a sound, her voice subdued and businesslike. "Since about an hour ago, it seems. The advance exorcists-those from the Hotoya, as it happens."

"Well, well..," His response carried a trace of irony-born from the self-awareness that he himself was one of the sources of that disturbance. And also... a pointed remark that the Jingū side had yet to report any of this to the Public Shikigami network. "...Any sign of your clone, former Onmyō Bureau Chief?"

"Word from the clone accompanying them. The Old Capital's defense mechanisms have activated unexpectedly. They've already engaged in combat on the road to the Inner Shrine," She paused. "...After suppression, I sent them toward Shinomiya on my own authority."

"Any chance this is staged?"

"Fortunate as it may sound... I'd say that's unlikely."

"I see..."

The Minister paused mid-stride in the covered corridor, mulling things over. He pondered for a moment... and made his decision.

"A field call-especially from a former Onmyō Bureau Chief-can't be dismissed lightly. I'll leave that matter to you. I'll take responsibility," He turned to face her. "Do you need reinforcements?"

"If we plan for the worst, preparations would be wise," Azuma's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "However... will the Emperor's personal guard be sufficient?"

"I came prepared to deal with a Pseudo-Deity from the start, so I brought extra protection. I'll move some of them under suitable pretext," He frowned. "But... intruders, you say..."

The Minister of the Right-Tatsunono's young lord-paused there and fell into thought once more. Something about the situation nagged at him.

"I'd heard rumors, but... could it truly be?"

"Minister?"

"No..," He shook his head, dismissing the thought. "Keep close contact with the clone. Report any sudden changes immediately. I'll authorize whatever action you deem best on-site."

For a moment, he wavered-but quickly suppressed it. He issued his orders to the trusted former Onmyō Bureau Chief. Even as he spoke, a furrow creased his brow, doubts and mistrust bleeding into his expression.

"We'll need to meet with the Chief Priest promptly. And..," He looked at her sharply. "I hear she's finally awakened?"

Azuma nodded slowly in affirmation. "She's under surveillance by Shikigami. The Shinto priests have already made contact."

"Then we'll head there first," His jaw tightened. "...Depending on the situation, we may need to pressure the Jingū side, yes?"

And tonight, he suspected, would be a sleepless one.

"I'd like this matter settled before dawn. The long journey and the audience alone have already burdened him. I won't have the Emperor troubled further," His voice dropped, heavy with concern. "...I'd lose face before the Late Emperor."

His final words were murmured with a genuinely solemn expression.

"...I shall see it done, even at the cost of my life."

Azuma-who understood deeply why he spoke so-answered gravely. She shared the same resolve. In that sense, she was his comrade in arms...

'That's the spirit, then.'

"Minister-behind you!"

Almost simultaneously with the call, the former Onmyō Bureau Chief yanked the Minister behind her, pushing him aside. She assumed a combat stance while simultaneously scanning the surrounding area at full capacity.

Before her eyes stood a beast built from nothing but coquettish charm... no, a lump of flesh.

"...A puppet."

'Bingo. As expected of the former Onmyō Bureau Chief, eh?' The beast's voice was casual, almost playful. 'You noticed before I even called out-gotta say, that surprised me a little.'

Azuma tensed to her utmost limit before the casually chattering white beast-meat. In that instant, she was certain this was the culprit behind the day's upheaval. And concern gnawed at her-how to get the Minister behind her to safety.

"Minister, this is-"

"No, wait," He stepped forward, cutting her off. "...It's alright."

She had been about to urge him to flee, but Tatsunono's young lord stopped her. Then he stepped forward of his own accord. Azuma hesitated for a moment, then fell silent and held her position-ready to protect him the instant anything happened.

"I see..," He studied the creature before him. "So this is it."

'Oh? Not surprised, are you?' The beast tilted its head, almost disappointed. 'I was rather looking forward to your reaction, you know.'

"You're wicked," The Minister's voice was flat, unimpressed. "No-you're not 'human,' are you? A heartless thing."

'That choice of words... hmm. I see.'

The beast tilted its head again, considering. Then it nodded, as if understanding something.

'Then we can get straight to business.' Its tone shifted-still casual, but with an undercurrent of something sharper. '...Would you care to hear my proposal, at least?'

* * *

"Whoa-whoa, whoa, WHOA-! WHOAWHOAWHOAWHOAWHOAWHOAWHOA-!!?"

In the literal sense of the word, Tamaki-Princess of Hotoya, senior disciple, rider of a raven-black stallion inherited from Tomobe and a blue-robed continental horse from Tachibana Trading-was tumbling down a steep slope. She rolled, reflexively landing on her rear to absorb the impact.

It hurt. It hurt like hell.

"Ow..."

Tears welling at the corners of her eyes, she rubbed her aching backside and writhed in silence for a while. Then she looked up and surveyed her surroundings.

A small space. Domed. Just big enough to fit four or five people. Beyond that, a narrow, exposed-rock path stretched endlessly onward. Spirit-firestone ore, exposed on the surface, cast an eerie glow around them, illuminating the space. The air against her skin was cold-underground cold.

"Where is this...?"

'This narrow path is a mining tunnel.' The beast-Nobe, he'd called himself-stepped ahead, seemingly unbothered by the fall. 'More precisely, a secret passage repurposed from its remnants. ...A passageway built long ago to surveil the outside.'

Though he'd fallen with her, the beast seemed to have bounced and rolled like a resilient dumpling-he showed no sign of pain as he calmly walked ahead, stepping into the passage just wide enough for one person.

...Just now, following-or rather, being led by-the beast's guidance, Tamaki had thrown herself through a hidden door in the floor of the Saigū Dorms' library. She'd rolled down that slope endlessly to reach this place. A mistake-misjudging the depth and incline in the dark.

"That far..," She looked back-or rather, up-and let out a deflated murmur. The library's light beyond the slope was already impossibly distant. She could go back, sure, but honestly? It'd be a real pain.

More than anything... going back now wouldn't mean a thing.

'Come on, then.' The beast's voice echoed from ahead. 'Follow me. I'll explain things as we walk.'

"Explain?" Tamaki pushed herself up, brushing off her clothes. "You said you wanted my help, didn't you? What are you, exactly? And what's this 'Shinomiya' business?"

She cocked her head and asked again as she followed the beast-who had introduced himself as the Old Capital's Guardian Beast, Nobe.

'I am Nobe. Nothing more, nothing less.' His tone was matter-of-fact. 'And... as for Shinomiya? I was planning to explain that properly anyway. I'd be insincere to ask for help without giving you the full picture, wouldn't I?'

The beast walked through the cramped corridor, then turned back and smiled again.

There was something hollow about it that Tamaki couldn't quite place.

Tamaki, princess of Hotoya and senior disciple, rode a raven-black stallion inherited from Tomobe, alongside a blue-robed continental horse from Tachibana Trading. Short-haired and composed, she used boku pronouns, carried an intellectual curiosity, and harbored a subtle fear of the supernatural. She wielded the disturbing power known as "Usurpation," Observant and reflective of her deceased benefactor, she was friendly with subordinates and had even offered to wash them. But at the same time, she simply couldn't see the other party as someone trying to lie.

(mental manipulation…? if that's what this is, then…)

Tamaki released a tiny fraction of her inner power, letting it swirl within her. It was one of the techniques she had developed herself.

Mental manipulation worked by interfering with perception-using hearing, sight, or even smell to slip into a person's ki and alter their awareness. That meant if someone was manipulating her mind, their ki was already pouring into her body. Which made that person a valid target for her power.

She could consume the ki that composed and powered an intruder's technique. If she pushed it further, maybe she could even devour the caster's very existence through the technique itself. That was still a long way off, but Tamaki had already reached the point where she could consume techniques eating away at her from the inside.

So, she checked.

…?

Usurpation's power swept through every corner of her body, scanning thoroughly-

And found nothing.

A complete miss. No external interference. No mental manipulation. No illusions.

Relief. Understanding. And then, confusion.

"That really is an impressive power,' the beast said, its voice warm and easy. 'My instincts were right after all."

"Gh-?!" Tamaki's eyes went wide. "Y-you noticed?! How?!"

Tamaki was struck speechless. The beast had recognized a technique she'd kept entirely internal-something that never left her body. She was stunned that it had perceived her power at all, which meant she was being watched that closely.

"What-you're watching me?! Just what are you-"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on now," The beast raised a paw, its tone almost exasperated. "You already know I haven't messed with your mind, don't you? I get how you feel, really. But with that wild, greedy power of yours, letting me observe a little shouldn't be a crime, right?"

Tamaki dropped into an unarmed stance-she had no real weapon on her. The beast's tone was almost exasperated, with an affectionate sigh. It was technically a fair point, but that wasn't the issue.

"Shut up!!" Tamaki's voice cracked like a whip. "Do you have any idea what my power really is? What do you know about it?"

The question came out as a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. A cross-examination. She glared sharply, flooding her limbs with spiritual energy to reinforce her body. Right now, a single roundhouse kick from her could shatter armor, and her bare fists could break through ten roof tiles at once-she'd proven that during her training at the Onitsuki estate. Tearing this harmless-looking beast apart would be easy.

(…as long as it doesn't use that weird power, anyway.)

She remembered the strange phenomenon that had occurred when she left the Saiguu Dorms-that state of being unnoticed, untouchable, and unable to touch anything in return. Even understanding the overwhelming difference in force, Tamaki didn't let her guard down.

And the beast itself showed no sign of panic, no impatience, not even hostility. Tamaki immediately understood: she wasn't being treated as a threat at all.

"I'm not looking down on you, okay?" The beast's voice was calm, measured. "Like I said, it's only natural to keep an eye on someone who moves the way you do. This land's spiritual vein is dense-and if you felt like it, you could pollute it or drain it dry. If you were in my position, you'd do the same, just to be safe. Exorcists know: never let your guard down, always be prepared for battle. That's all it is. I'm not your enemy, so I'm not showing any hostility," It tilted its head. "Something funny about that?"

"No," Tamaki's jaw tightened. "It's not funny. But you still haven't answered why I should be on guard. What do you know about my power?"

Even when she used it internally, she never released it outward. How did this creature know so much about it?

"That's simple: my analytical ability is just that high," The beast's voice carried a note of pride. "You activated your power consciously a moment ago, sure. But you still don't have full control over it. A tiny bit leaks out of you constantly. The reiki here is rich-thick as can be. But when I compare it to the reiki in your breath, it's ridiculously thin. That's because of your internal power. And from that alone, I can guess quite a bit about the nature of what you're holding."

"…"

"I'm not lying, okay?" The beast's voice wavered.

"…"

"I really mean it!!"

Tamaki stared at him with flat, skeptical eyes. She raised an arm as if to strike, and the beast, finally flustered, answered. He was genuinely panicking. This wasn't a lie.

"…So you really don't know anything about this power?" Her voice softened, just slightly.

"I swear!" The beast's words tumbled out in a rush. "Ahhh… I mean, about what it actually is? All I know is what I've been able to observe on the surface and infer from the mechanics. That's it!"

The beast stood up and waved its front paws around as it explained. Probably-not lying. Tamaki slowly relaxed her stance.

"…Fine," She let out a breath. "I'll take your word for it. For now."

Tamaki didn't hold grudges without reason. She wasn't going to lash out unfairly. If her skill was lacking, she'd accept that honestly. If there was no reason to blame the other party, she wouldn't.

…Though that indescribable, suspicious air about him still lingered.

"Now, back to the point," She crossed her arms. "Explain. About this land. About what you want. You're the one who brought it up."

"Of course," The beast let out a long, theatrical sigh. "…Phew. That was bad for my heart. You don't have to threaten me, you know?"

The beast let out a long, deep sigh. It composed itself, as if relieved, and dropped back onto all fours. Then, at Tamaki's request, it began to speak.

And so it told the story of this land.

"The place we're heading to is Shinomiya-the True Inner Shrine," the beast said, its voice echoing softly. "The heart of this Old Capital. The most important site of all. …Or, to be more precise, I suppose you could call it the 'true' Inner Shrine."

"True … Inner Shrine?" Tamaki repeated, her brow furrowing.

The beast's sudden words, spoken as they walked, left her bewildered. What she'd been told beforehand by Murasaki-with that smug, know-it-all tone of hers-was completely at odds with what she was hearing now.

"What do you mean by that?" Tamaki pressed, her voice sharpening. "Then what's the Inner Shrine we know about?"

"The Outer Shrine," the beast replied instantly.

The answer left Tamaki stunned. And no wonder-it was practically a denial of everything she'd learned. Or perhaps the real reason for her shock lay elsewhere. The possibility that even the Imperial Court was deceiving the exorcist houses …

"If you think about it, it's not that hard to figure out," the beast continued, its tone patient but edged with knowing. "Records show that even before the Great Man-Yokai Rebellion3 five hundred years ago, the shrines of the Old Capital were divided into inner and outer. And neither was ever open to the common people. …You don't honestly believe they'd open one of the nation's most sacred shrines to the masses just because they wanted tax revenue, do you?"

"That's …" Tamaki faltered.

When put that way, it made a disturbing kind of sense. In fact, it made the Imperial Court's governance seem more trustworthy. Opening a sacred site-a cornerstone of national protection-to commoners just for short-term gold? That would have been sheer recklessness.

"First of all, what do you actually know about the Old Capital?" the beast asked, its voice taking on a lecturing tone. "That it's Fusō's birthplace? A prison holding countless deities? The Imperial Court's refuge in times of national crisis? Those are all true, as far as they go. But … they're only the surface. Incidental aspects."

The beast continued speaking as it walked down the passage. Its voice echoed endlessly through the narrow corridor, and with each repetition, its oddly endearing tone grew more muffled.

"Then … what is the Old Capital actually for?" Tamaki demanded, her voice carrying a sharp edge as she questioned the guardian beast. There was a clear pushback in her tone against its deliberately cryptic way of speaking. She still had no idea what this small creature was trying to say.

The beast turned to look back at her, its eyelids narrowing as though in thought.

"…Fusō is a nation that denied the gods," it said slowly. "A nation of the people, by the people, for the people. That is its fundamental principle. Even the public shikigami4 records of Fusō are written to align with that principle. They've been edited that way. All traces of the chimi-moryo's5 contributions have been erased from the story."

"…What are you trying to say?" Tamaki asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The young swordswoman caught the unsettling undertone in the beast's words. A shiver ran through her-was it the underground cold? But no, she was sweating too. Cold sweat. She felt as though she were touching the outer shell of a story she was never meant to know.

"Don't misunderstand me …" the beast added, observing her reaction carefully.

"I'm not denying any of it," it continued. "…It's an undeniable fact that this nation's foundations are steeped in falsehood and ornamentation. That countless invisible sacrifices have been piled up, time and again, for the sake of a show of peace. And I accept all of that-every last bit of how things are."

"You've been speaking in riddles this whole time," Tamaki shot back, her indignation rising. "And it sounds like you're talking down to-!"

She stopped. Just… stopped. Her words died in her throat.

And then she saw it.

"Hah……"

She stumbled back. Let out a long, shaky breath.

The tunnel opened into a cavern. But it wasn't a cave. It was a night sky. A dome of deep blue, scattered with stars that glittered in colors she'd never seen. A whole sky beneath the earth.

"Where the hell are we?" she breathed.

"Limestone cave," the beast said, matter-of-fact. "Natural formation, originally. About a league north to south, nine towns east to west. They expanded it with mining. Look up-that's the ceiling."

She almost laughed. "The ceiling? No way."

But she followed their gaze. Focused.

It was rock. A dome of rock. Pillars stood here and there, left behind like pillars in a temple, holding up the weight above.

This wasn't outside. This was underground. So where did the sky come from? What were those stars?

"Spirit-firestone," the beast explained. "They soak up moonlight at night. At dawn, the yang stones catch sunlight instead. Back and forth, lighting the whole cave. Those 'stars' are ore-spirit-egg shiro, spirit-steel. The bedrock's packed with reitetsu iron, spirit copper, all sorts of rare metals."

It stripped the magic away like it was nothing. Brutally practical. Like they'd seen it a thousand times.

"The geology makes its own day and night," they continued. "Spring water, geothermal heat, that mineral glow-you could farm down here. Not much variety, but enough to survive. And the ore they mined was gold to other hidden villages. The rock's so dense it could weather clashes between gods. So when the sky caught fire, they'd seal the entrance with boulders, huddle together, and wait. Pray. Beg the storm to pass."

Tamaki listened. Something about the way they talked-it wasn't like reading a history book. It was personal. Like they'd been there.

"Three thousand people, at its height," they said. "The first cradle of Fusō. They called it the Shadow Village of Iwato. The village where the First Emperor came looking for help. Where he met the chieftain's daughter. Made her his empress."

Now it was empty. Forgotten. The place they called the True Palace.

"……"

Tamaki said nothing. She looked around again, trying to absorb it.

And then it hit her-that strange pull. Like she'd been here before. Like she already knew this place.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No way."

She'd never made the pilgrimage of gratitude. Never even set foot near Shinomiya.

Déjà vu. That's all it is. Weird coincidence. Everyone gets it.

But something gnawed at her. A feeling she couldn't shake.

…Forget it. Move. No time.

The beast had gone still. Completely still. Then, without warning, they bolted-four legs driving them forward at a dead sprint.

"Hey-wait up!" Tamaki shouted. "What's your rush?!"

"People's lives are on the line," they shot back over their shoulder. "How would you feel if it were-whoa!"

She scooped them up before they could finish. Tucked them under one arm and ran.

The Ako-style movement technique. Minimal spirit power. Maximum speed. The cavern walls streaked past, blurring into ribbons of blue and silver, gone before she could blink.

"Which way?!" Her voice was ragged now. "Tell me! Now!"

"Okay, okay!" The beast's words came out in jolts. "I was gonna take this slow, but fine! Straight ahead! End of the chamber, second passage on the left!"

"Got it!"

She pushed harder. Faster. The floor was treacherous, uneven, dark-but she didn't care. Her legs moved on instinct.

People were going to die.

That was all that mattered.

Every doubt, every question, every nagging thought got shoved to the back of her mind. The beast might be lying. Might be leading her into a trap. But her gut said no. And right now, her gut was all she had.

(Then I'll break through. Whatever they throw at me, I'll break through.)

She thought about the chaos back at the Saiguu Dorms. But nobody was dying there. Not yet. And without her, the others wouldn't be hassled. She'd deal with the consequences later. Whatever it cost.

She refused to live with the regret. Refused to let someone die because she was too scared to act.

.

..

She barely heard the voice from her arms.

'...That's right. Give up and you're done.'

'You can change fate. You've got the power for that.'

'As long as you choose to...'

Wind swallowed the words.

.

..

...

Meanwhile.

"Why are they all out there fighting while we're stuck here playing tentacle grab-ass?"

"Kindly stop struggling. You're making it worse."

"SUNLIGHT!"

'I'll find the gentian Spirit Flower. Stay exactly where you are. Every single one of you.'

"Ah… that way?" a soft voice asked from the left.

'(⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) LINK!'

And so the conversation continued-intense, absurd, and completely human-as the group dangled from the flesh tentacles at Shinomiya's back entrance.

---

Trivia:

- The protagonist was chosen as Mayuka's guardian specifically because he was still "untainted by manly desires," implying the role requires ritual purity and that adult males pose a threat to the shrine maiden.

- The father explicitly states the protagonist is meant to be "spent" and "used up" for Mayuka's sake, indicating the guardian role is sacrificial in nature.

- Mayuka's name, written with the characters for "cocoon" and "fruit," foreshadows her entrapment and the potential for transformation or emergence.

- The Room Prison with talismans and iron bars suggests Mayuka is both protected and imprisoned by the shrine's traditions.

- The Minister's confession that the Saiō is a puppet reflects the historical reality of Saiō serving as political figureheads rather than active rulers.

- The blade attack mentioned in the court scene remains unresolved, creating narrative tension for future chapters.

- The protagonist's childhood devotion to Mayuka parallels the Minister's loyalty to the Saiō, suggesting generational cycles of service and sacrifice.

- The Tang-style chest used to hide the Saiō during travel indicates the extreme measures taken to maintain ritual purity and separation.

- The "cage bird" metaphor applies to both Mayuka in her Room Prison and the Saiō behind the bamboo blinds, suggesting a parallel between the two women.

- The Minister's self-loathing for his role reveals the personal cost of upholding the shrine's political traditions.

- The Emperor's use of masculine pronouns despite descriptions of blushing and maiden-like behavior highlights the dissonance between his role and his inner vulnerability.

- The Minister of the Right's concern about "losing face before the Late Emperor" suggests a personal debt or relationship beyond mere political obligation.

- The beast Nobe's casual speech contrasts sharply with the courtly formality of the Minister scenes, indicating Nobe exists outside the hierarchical structure of the Old Capital.

- The Minister's suspicion about the situation being "staged" suggests internal political factions may be working against each other within the Jingū and court.

- The clone/doppelgänger mentioned for the Onmyō Bureau Chief indicates advanced magical surveillance and communication systems exist in this world.

- The defense mechanisms of the Old Capital activating unexpectedly implies the city itself has protective wards or systems that respond to threats autonomously.

- The beast's proposal to the Minister and his request for Tamaki's help are likely connected plot threads that will converge later.

- The Emperor's memory of being "delirious with fever" behind the same blinds suggests this isn't the first time he's been bedridden or helpless in that room.

- Tamaki's power "Usurpation" can consume the ki of supernatural techniques, potentially even devouring the caster themselves if pushed far enough.

- Tamaki can already consume techniques eating away at her from the inside, but consuming the caster directly is still far beyond her current ability.

- The beast observed Tamaki's power purely through analytical ability, not supernatural means, based on the difference in reiki density between the surrounding land and her breath.

- Tamaki's power constantly leaks from her body in small amounts because she hasn't achieved full control over it yet.

- The beast has no hostile intent toward Tamaki and is not treating her as an enemy—only as a potential threat that warrants observation.

- The dense reiki of this land makes it especially noticeable when Tamaki's power dilutes the reiki in her breath.

- Tamaki is capable of shattering armor with a roundhouse kick and breaking ten roof tiles with her bare fists—physical feats proven through training with the Onitsuki family.

- The strange phenomenon at the Saiguu Dorms rendered Tamaki unnoticed, untouchable, and unable to touch anything—suggesting the beast may have similar power to enforce non-interaction.

- The Imperial Court has been systematically misleading even the exorcist houses about the true nature of the Old Capital's shrines.

- The public shikigami records of Fusō have been deliberately edited to erase contributions from non-human entities.

- The First Emperor sought aid from the Shadow Village of Iwato and married the chieftain's daughter, making it the foundation of Fusō's imperial lineage.

- The limestone cave has its own artificial day-night cycle created by spirit-firestones and yang spirit stones.

- The cave's geology was so resilient it could withstand clashes between deities.

- The so-called True Palace was once a thriving community of three thousand people.

- Tamaki experiences a strange sense of recognition upon seeing the cave, foreshadowing an unknown connection to this place.

- The Outer Shrine is a deliberate public-facing facade concealing the existence of the True Inner Shrine.

- The beast speaks of historical events with the familiarity of an eyewitness, not a scholar.

- Fusō's founding principle—denying the gods—is presented as a deliberate historical revision rather than an objective truth.

- Tamaki's refusal to make the pilgrimage suggests a personal history or unresolved guilt—the text implies she has actively avoided this journey before.

- The beast's whispered words about changing fate may foreshadow Tamaki's eventual role in altering events beyond the current crisis.

- The Saiguu Dorms commotion mentioned in passing hints at parallel events occurring elsewhere in the story world.

- Tamaki's willingness to take blame alone establishes her self-sacrificial character trait, which may drive future conflicts.

- The phrase "she had no intention of regretting it" foreshadows potential future consequences she's already accepted.

- The sudden tonal shift at the end to the tentacle scene establishes the story's willingness to juxtapose high-stakes drama with comedic relief.

- The fifth speaker's elegant query ("Ah, that's where you're going...?") suggests prior knowledge or relationship with the fourth speaker that isn't explicitly stated.

- The emoticon "LINK!" at the end indicates modern magical communication methods exist in this world.

---

Translation Notes:

1↵ A Buddhist staff, traditionally used by monks; in this context, it appears to be a magical weapon.

2↵ A pseudonym or given name used in formal or ritual contexts, as opposed to one's true name.

3↵ Historical event five centuries ago that marks the division of the Old Capital's shrines into inner and outer.

4↵ Official surveillance spirits used for record-keeping and administration in Fusō.

5↵ A collective term for malevolent spirits and monsters whose contributions to Fusō's history were deliberately erased.