"Which faction of yokai are you?!What did you do to Kana-san?!
"I am Nura Rikuo, the young master of the Nura Clan! Do you have any idea what happens when you provoke the Nura Clan?!"
In the past, Rikuo himself had never placed much importance on the title of "young master of the Nura Clan."
But now—after watching Kana disappear before his eyes—panic overwhelmed him, and he instinctively revealed his identity.
Under normal circumstances, even if these yokai weren't affiliated with the Nura Clan, they would still show some restraint out of respect for his grandfather—the Lord of a Hundred Demons of Kantō. After all, Rikuo wasn't borrowing someone else's name; he truly was Nurarihyon's grandson.
Unfortunately for him, his usual tactic failed completely tonight.
When Rikuo declared himself a "second-generation yokai," the cat demons and surrounding yokai showed no reaction at all, as if his words had never reached their ears.
"We already know you're the third-generation successor of the Nura Clan," one of them said coldly."So save your breath. You're our target anyway.
"And besides—our Oni-Tōin isn't afraid of the Nura Clan in the slightest. What right does trash like you have to compare yourself to that lord?"
Staring at Nura Rikuo—whose human form contained almost no detectable demonic power—the Samurai Puppet slowly drew its blade.
Rikuo's face twisted with bitterness as he took in the hostility radiating from the nekomata and the other yokai.
They knew exactly who he was… and they were still preparing to strike.
Which meant one thing.
He had been their target from the very beginning.
Oni-Tōin…?Was that the name of some former enemy of the Nura Clan?
Rikuo barely managed to dodge the Samurai Puppet's slash—but in the same instant, a black shadow flashed past him.
Rip.
Three crimson claw marks were carved across his cheek.
"Is that all the third-generation successor of the 'Nura Clan' can do?"The voice dripped with contempt."How disappointing.
"Don't you still have a quarter of yokai blood? Or are you planning to fight us in that pathetic human body of yours without using your yokai power?"
The black shadow landed gracefully.
The cat demon licked the blood from her claws and looked at Nura Rikuo with open disdain.
"—Bang!"
Just as Rikuo felt himself being pushed to the brink, two figures—one tall, one short—smashed through a nearby window and landed in front of him.
"Who dares lay a hand on our young master?!""Did you ask Aotabō for permission first?!"
The newcomers were a man and a woman—one towering, one slender.
When Rikuo recognized them, shock flashed across his face.
"Aotabō… Hyōri?! Why are you here?!"
The girl, Hyōri, appeared to be about thirteen years old. She had long blue-gray hair, yellow-ringed eyes, and a scarf wrapped around her neck. Her true age was unknown.
Aotabō, on the other hand, was a massive man with spiked hair, dressed in monk's robes. A grotesque rosary made of skulls hung around his neck.
Both Hyōri and Aotabō were powerful yokai from the main branch of the Nura Clan.
"You filthy lowlifes!" Hyōri screamed."You dared to scar the young master's face! This sin can only be cleansed with your lives!
"Cursed Blizzard—Snow Adornment!"
The moment Hyōri saw the claw marks on Rikuo's face, any concern she had vanished—replaced by pure rage.
She gathered her yokai power, and an icy storm exploded outward.
The already frigid night temperature plunged instantly as a violent blizzard roared toward the cat demon and the Samurai Puppet.
Facing the oncoming storm, the cat demon stepped forward without hesitation, her claws gleaming crimson.
"Feast of Blood—Scattered Soul Demon Claws!"
Although Yuki-onna Hyōri, like Aotabō and the others, belonged to the Nura Clan's main line, her strength was clearly inferior to that of Aotabō or Kurotabō.
If Aotabō's yokai power hovered around B- rank, then Hyōri's was closer to C+.
Her blood-red claws slashed outward in an X-shaped arc, tearing Hyōri's blizzard apart with brutal precision.
The moment the storm was shredded, the Samurai Puppets and the other yokai behind the nekomata surged forward all at once.
Fortunately, Aotabō had already prepared himself.
Seeing the swarm rushing in, he unleashed a thunderous punch.
Aotabō was undoubtedly the strongest among them, his yokai power reaching B- rank. If he removed the Beast Rosary sealing his strength, he could even approach the peak of that rank.
At present, none of the yokai under Ren Kuroda's command could match Aotabō in raw power.
But—
They had forgotten one crucial thing.
This abandoned old school building was now the headquarters of the Demon Fighting Academy.
More than eight hundred yokai were gathered here.
Aotabō's B-rank strength allowed him to dominate most opponents, but Nekomata's side possessed numerous C-rank executive yokai. Once they surrounded him, even Aotabō would be overwhelmed.
Aotabō was famed within the Nura Clan for his monstrous strength—rumored to be capable of tearing yokai apart with his bare hands.
However, the Demon Fighting Academy also had specialists in defense.
The Samurai Puppet, for instance—a yokai born from a possessed samurai doll—possessed refined swordsmanship and could petrify its armor to greatly increase its defenses.
If it were to combine with another executive yokai—the Samurai Spirit, allowing temporary possession—its power could even approach B-rank.
Hyōri and the nekomata fought evenly, neither gaining the upper hand.
Meanwhile, Aotabō's brute force was repeatedly blunted by the Samurai Puppet.
Absorbing the majority of Aotabō's attacks, the puppet created countless openings for the other yokai. Without fear of counterattacks, they struck again and again, leaving wounds across Aotabō's body.
As the injuries mounted, Aotabō felt the pressure crushing down on him.
If this continued—
They would lose tonight.
"Hyōri!" Aotabō shouted, smashing aside a yokai attempting a sneak attack."These guys aren't just rabble. We underestimated them!
"Take the young master and retreat first! I'll stay behind and cover you!"
Given the sheer number of enemies, prolonged combat would only lead to exhaustion and death.
For Nura Rikuo's sake, Aotabō made his decision.
As Hyōri prepared to move, Aotabō reached toward the rosary at his chest—
Ready to gamble everything on a desperate final stand.