In short—
Because of that sudden revelation, the entire Tokyo district… no, the entire nation fell into chaos.
And this time, the unrest wasn't caused by yokai.
It was humanity turning on itself.
As for the yokai, they had no time to bother with reckless humans courting disaster. They were facing a crisis of their own.
After returning to Hokkaido, Ibaraki-dōji personally informed the yokai of the gods' plan. He had witnessed the battle himself, and he swore the intelligence was absolutely genuine.
The god known as Yagami possessed terrifying combat power.
Even if the leaders of the Three Great Yokai factions joined forces, defeating him would be an almost impossible task.
Because of this, the Three Great Yokai factions convened for the first time in history to discuss the impending divine invasion.
This was no longer about personal grudges or territorial disputes.
If even a single god like Yagami was that powerful—
How were they supposed to withstand what came next?
Seated opposite Ibaraki-dōji was a yokai with a strikingly delicate face, yet whose body made it impossible to discern male from female. A crimson oni mask was tied atop their head. After a moment of silence, they spoke.
"So this Yagami is as powerful as you claim.
Then how did you manage to come back alive, Ibaraki?
And not only you—even those pitifully weak human exorcists survived.
Should I assume you've exaggerated? That Yagami isn't quite as invincible as you say?"
The government had publicly disclosed the gods' plan.
But they had deliberately omitted the details of that battle.
The reason was simple.
In the clash against Yagami, humanity had contributed almost nothing. The one who forced the god back had been the very being they once regarded as an enemy—
Ren Kuroda, the Hundred-Night Oni.
Worse still, if anyone was to blame for Yagami's descent in the first place, it was the major human exorcist families.
Under normal circumstances, the authorities would have gladly exposed that fact to suppress the exorcist factions' prestige.
But now was not the time.
Facing a common enemy, humanity needed unity—not division.
Any reckoning would come later.
After they survived.
Similarly, Ren's true identity as the Hundred-Night Oni was no longer a secret.
Yet both the government and the exorcist factions tacitly agreed to keep silent.
And so, while the other two yokai factions had heard rumors, they knew almost nothing about the battle's finer details.
Ibaraki-dōji snorted.
"Yagami's strength is exactly as overwhelming as I described.
The only reason any of us survived was because of the Hundred-Night Oni.
If you doubt me, Hannya, feel free to challenge Yagami yourself. I just can't guarantee you'll return alive."
At the name, the delicate-faced yokai's expression flickered rapidly—smile, anger, sorrow—like masks switching in an instant.
It was none other than Hannya.
Before the tension could escalate further, a sharp gust of wind swept between them.
The source was a tall figure holding a war fan.
The great tengu leader, Ōtengu.
"Enough," Ōtengu said coolly. "We didn't gather here to fight each other.
"There will always be time for battle.
What matters now is deciding how we respond to the gods."
Hannya crossed their arms, floating slightly above the ground.
"What's there to discuss? If they treat us as livestock to harvest faith, then when a god descends, we kill them.
Or are we supposed to wait until they finish cleansing humanity before coming for us?"
Ōtengu shook his fan thoughtfully.
"According to Ibaraki, the gods' primary target is humanity—not yokai.
If they intend to establish a new civilization, they will need threats to keep humans afraid.
Despair drives faith.
As someone who once ruled above mortals, I understand this well."
Legends claimed that Ōtengu had been born from the vengeful spirit of a supreme ruler.
He understood politics far better than straightforward yokai like Hannya.
"So I believe," Ōtengu continued slowly, "we do not necessarily need to oppose the gods outright.
Rather…"
"Rather become their lapdogs?" Ibaraki-dōji cut in sharply, laughter dripping with scorn.
"You want us to wag our tails to preserve our miserable lives?"
His expression turned wild, arrogant.
"If that's the plan, then the Oni Clan will decline.
We'd rather die standing.
Wagging tails is for dogs.
We are proud oni.
We fear nothing—not even death in battle.
Better to fall than live as someone else's puppet."
Ōtengu's face flushed red, then pale.
The implication was obvious.
If the tengu wished to become dogs, that was their business.
The oni would not.
Hannya gave a soft chuckle.
"I rarely agree with Ibaraki, but this time, I do.
If your tengu wish to serve the gods, that's your affair.
Do not include the Vengeful Spirits among you.
And with how these gods operate, do you truly believe being their tools will end well?"
The first-ever summit of the Three Great Yokai factions ended in discord.
Their centuries of rivalry had not vanished overnight.
But their stances were clear.
The Tengu faction leaned toward accommodation.
The Oni and the Vengeful Spirits rejected cooperation outright.
Cooperation required equal footing.
Yet Ōtengu seemed blind to the fact that the tengu were nowhere near equal to the gods.
Why would beings who could crush you with a flick of a finger negotiate in good faith?
Still, Ōtengu's arrogance was in his nature—control, pride, and self-assurance woven into his very being.
—
While the yokai convened in the shadows, humanity gathered in the light.
This time, the meeting was not limited to Tokyo.
Every major exorcist family across the nation was represented.
Seated around the long conference table were patriarchs and matriarchs of ancient lineages. Smaller clans didn't even have seats of their own.
The so-called "Thirteen Demon-Slaying Houses."
Hidden families long thought extinct.
All present.
At the center of the table, projected footage played.
Fragments of Ren Kuroda's battle with Yagami.
The recordings had been captured by onmyō techniques during the fight.
When the snow-capped mountain sank beneath the force of their collision—
Every leader present fell silent.
That level of power…
Was beyond anything they could ever achieve.
They had gathered to discuss resistance.
But if monsters of that magnitude stood before them—
Could they truly resist?
If only one or two gods descended, perhaps—using ancestral relics and sacred artifacts—they might stand a chance.
But this nation was said to house eight million gods.
How could they possibly face such numbers?
Finally, the head of the Yamato family rose.
"I know what you're thinking," he said calmly. "When you saw that footage, the first emotion was despair.
"But this battle also revealed something else."
All eyes turned toward him.
"If you look closely, Yagami's power, though immense, seemed restricted in this world.
"As he himself mentioned, this likely relates to the barrier between realms.
"Gods descending to the lower world cannot unleash their full strength."
He paused.
"According to our research, Yagami is not a major deity—but he is a war god. A combat-oriented god stronger than most."
A murmur spread through the room.
"And even if gods descend, it is unlikely they can all arrive at once.
Otherwise, why would only Yagami have appeared?"
His voice grew firmer.
"If we unite—
If we repel isolated gods as they descend—
And simultaneously search for a way to mend the rift between realms—
Then perhaps…
Just perhaps—
This catastrophe is not unwinnable."