Even in war, envoys are spared.
Yet Ren Kuroda had done the unthinkable—not only showing zero interest in Gyokushō's proposal for cooperation, but outright killing the envoy he'd sent.
That was nothing short of slapping Gyokushō across the face.
To be honest, in that very moment, Gyokushō had nearly stormed off with the Demon King's Little Hammer in hand to settle accounts with Ren Kuroda personally.
But recalling what Yosuzume had said about Ren's terrifying strength, Gyokushō ultimately forced himself to swallow the fury boiling in his chest.
Right now, the decisive battle with the Nura Clan was the top priority.
He was already scraping the bottom of the barrel when it came to subordinates.
If he went and clashed with the Oni Combat Academy first, he wouldn't even have those scraps left.
At least compared to the Nura Clan, his side wasn't completely devoid of manpower—yet.
Slipping back to Shikoku in disgrace and returning later with reinforcements was an option.
But Gyokushō understood all too clearly that his original plan had been to catch the Nura Clan completely off guard.
At present, he only needed to face the Nura Clan's main house.
If he withdrew now and returned later, the next time he fought, he'd be facing all the yokai of the Kanto region.
Things hadn't gone as smoothly as planned—but it wasn't a hopeless situation either.
In the end, Gyokushō chose to stay.
And he resolved to crush the Nura Clan's main house before the rest of Kanto's yokai could come to their aid.
"Nura Rikuo… the third-generation heir of the Kanto yokai's Supreme Commander, is that right?"
Gyokushō gripped the Demon King's Little Hammer and looked disdainfully at the youth across from him.
"If I'm not mistaken, the hundred demons behind you should all be retainers from the first and second generations of the Nura Clan."
"Then let me ask you this—aside from the bloodline you were born with, and the title you inherited… what else do you actually have?"
His tone dripped with contempt.
Though both were sons of great yokai, the difference in their upbringing couldn't have been more stark.
Gyokushō's father—Gyōbu Tanuki, the Hidden God—had far too many wives and even more children.
Gyokushō's mother had been the eighty-eighth consort.
By contrast, the Nura Clan's vast empire had produced only one heir.
From the moment he was born, Nura Rikuo had been the sole successor.
He hadn't needed to fight for anything.
The entire legacy was simply handed to him.
"Lord Ren, why aren't they fighting yet?"
One of the nekomata whispered excitedly.
"I was hoping to see whether the legendary Nura Clan really lives up to the hype."
Off to the side, Ren Kuroda stood concealed with several core members of the Oni Combat Academy, suppressing their yōki as they watched the spectacle unfold.
Beside them were three former members of the Seven Travelers—Hook-Needle Woman, Cliff Monk, and Handwashing Demon.
All three wore conflicted expressions as they stared at Gyokushō.
Ren chuckled softly at the nekomata's impatience.
"Gyokushō isn't an idiot," he said calmly.
"He knows that if both sides unleash their hundred demons, the trash behind him won't stand a chance against the Nura Clan's elites."
"So he's provoking Rikuo—trying to bait him into a one-on-one duel. Just like the old days, when generals would single each other out."
"And it's an open scheme," Ren continued casually.
"If Rikuo refuses, it means he's admitting Gyokushō is right—that aside from his status, he has nothing worth mentioning."
Sure enough, there were plenty of sharp minds within the Nura Clan.
Kurotabō and the others immediately saw through Gyokushō's intent and rushed forward to advise their young master.
"Young Master," Kurotabō said firmly,
"we, the hundred demons under your command, are part of your strength."
"There's no need to accept his provocation. This is our territory. They're the invaders—we have no obligation to fight fair."
If Ren Kuroda had been in Rikuo's place, he would've applauded that statement.
What was a "Lord of One Hundred Demons," if not someone with the most and strongest underlings?
Otherwise, why bother gathering so many followers in the first place?
If it were Ren, he'd have ordered everyone to rush Gyokushō on the spot.
Why waste breath on pointless posturing?
But Nura Rikuo wasn't Ren Kuroda.
As someone who'd grown used to carrying himself with pride, being pointed at and called useless was something he simply couldn't tolerate.
Rikuo had sworn to become the third-generation Supreme Commander.
If he backed down from a challenge like this, what right would he have to claim the title of Lord of One Hundred Demons?
Worse still, Gyokushō's words had struck straight at his weakest point.
As the Nura Clan's heir, the only thing Rikuo could truly boast about… was his identity as "Young Master."
Kurotabō and the others followed him because of his father and grandfather—not because of him.
If another person with the same status stood there instead, they would have pledged loyalty just the same.
They weren't loyal to Nura Rikuo.
They were loyal to the Nura Clan's heir.
And Rikuo couldn't refute Gyokushō's accusation—because it was true.
He had never personally subdued a single yokai.
The one person he'd finally taken interest in—Ren Kuroda—had beaten him utterly and without mercy.
So when faced with Gyokushō's provocation, Rikuo took the bait completely.
He had to prove it.
That he wasn't just handsome—
that his strength was the real deal.
Watching Rikuo charge forward despite their desperate attempts to stop him, Kurotabō and the others nearly panicked.
Against ordinary yokai, they wouldn't mind letting their young master show off.
But Gyokushō's yōki was no weaker than Rikuo's—and the weapon in his hand radiated extreme danger.
With the Supreme Commander missing, if anything happened to Rikuo, the Nura Clan would be finished.
Ignoring the shouts of their subordinates, Gyokushō and Nura Rikuo collided head-on.
At first, Gyokushō had assumed the pampered heir's strength would be nothing special.
But once Rikuo unleashed the Fear unique to the Slipstream Hag lineage, Gyokushō was forced into a bitter struggle.
Their yōki reserves were nearly identical, and Rikuo's Mirror Flower, Water Moon worked perfectly against Gyokushō—unlike when he'd faced Ren Kuroda.
Having been utterly defeated by Ren before, Rikuo had awakened far earlier than expected.
Night after night, he had gone out purging lawless yokai factions, steadily refining his mastery of Fear.
Now, that growth was evident.
Gyokushō grew increasingly enraged.
Despite his immense power, he couldn't land a clean hit on the slippery Rikuo.
Instead, he found himself constantly wounded, his yōki draining away with each exchange.
Meanwhile, Kurotabō and the others were stunned with delight.
Their young master had grown this strong—without them even realizing it.
To any clear observer, victory was within reach.
Seizing the opportunity, the Nura Clan's other yokai launched a full assault.
Gyokushō's ragtag forces were no match whatsoever. Under the Nura Clan's onslaught, their numbers rapidly dwindled.
Watching the Shikoku forces collapse, Hook-Needle Woman clenched her teeth—
And finally rushed forward.
The nekomata moved to stop her, but Ren raised a hand.
"She already had her chance," he said coldly.
"When she finally understands Gyokushō's true nature, she'll realize just how foolish her loyalty was."
Her intervention couldn't change the tide—but it did buy Gyokushō a moment to breathe.
Yet when she blocked Rikuo's pursuit, Gyokushō didn't thank her.
His eyes were bloodshot, his reason consumed by fury.
As his remaining subordinates screamed and fell, Gyokushō slowly turned toward his own forces, Demon King's Little Hammer in hand.
"Lord Gyokushō! Save us! The Nura Clan is too strong!"
The Shikoku yokai thought their lord had come to rescue them.
What answered them instead—
Was a blade piercing straight through their chests.
The weapon devoured their yōki instantly, draining them dry.
As power flooded into him, Gyokushō's face twisted into manic ecstasy.
He charged into his own ranks—
And began a new massacre.
From the very beginning, Gyokushō had never intended for these useless yokai to fight.
They had always been nothing more than fuel for the Demon King's Little Hammer.
Watching Gyokushō's yōki surge visibly, Ren Kuroda activated the system's appraisal.
Weapon Name: Demon King's Little Hammer
Weapon Rank: A
Description:
A weapon formed from the heart of Yamamoto Gorōzaemon.
It absorbs the power of slain yokai and converts it into its wielder's strength.
However, those lacking sufficient willpower may be influenced by the lingering resentment of Yamamoto's spirit sealed within the blade.
An A-rank weapon truly lived up to its name.
The ability to convert an enemy's power into one's own was absurdly overpowered.
Yet precisely because it could so easily turn on its wielder, its rank had been deliberately suppressed.
This was the third weapon Ren had seen at A-rank or above.
The first two were Yamato Kuka's "Onikiri"—
and his own Nichirin Blade.
And Ren noticed a clear pattern.
All weapons of this level shared one trait—
They possessed their own consciousness.
Onikiri had trembled when it first encountered Ren's oni bloodline.
His Nichirin Blade, according to both the system and Haganezuka Hotaru, had the potential to give birth to a blade spirit.
And now, the Demon King's Little Hammer—
Carried the lingering will of Yamamoto himself, capable of devouring its wielder's sanity from within.