By the time the true Onmyōin Kokoro crawled out from the heap of shattered stone, all seven puppets she had brought from the Onmyōryō had already been completely purified.
Seven control threads, severed simultaneously. As though an entire net had been sheared apart with a single slash of a blade.
Kokoro pushed herself up against the broken stone. The left shoulder of her pentagram haori had been slashed open by a shard of rock. Half of her deep chestnut hair had come loose. Her large amber eyes reflected that figure in white and crimson upon the distant mountain peak.
The memories of being possessed by Nue were not blank. She had been present the entire time. Fully conscious. Only her body had not been under her control.
So she, too, had felt the overwhelming strength of that miko across from her. Separated by an entire mountain. Using ten arrows. Weaving a stratagem over the course of a quarter of an hour. And then, against the will of her ancestor, a single instant to decide victory and defeat.
But…
"I was just… lost…" The voice finally squeezed out from her throat. It was brimming with the desperate, tearless urge to cry.
"I was just passing through Mino… on my way back to Kyōto to report… Why was I swallowed by this mountain… Why was I possessed by my ancestor… Why were all the puppets passed down for centuries completely wrecked… When I go back… how am I supposed to explain this to Father… Am I supposed to tell him that our ancestor took over my body for a fight and got trashed?! NOOOOO!"
In the distance, Kikyō had already lowered her bow. Her black hair drifted in the wind. Upon her cold, clear features, there was no extraneous expression whatsoever.
She didn't even glance at the onmyōji girl across from her, who seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown. She, naturally, had seen through her condition. She had no interest in finishing off a girl who had merely been used. Her gaze swept past the crown of Kokoro's head. Past the collapsed roof ridge of the temple. And fell upon something deeper.
Toward the direction where Shinji stood. "The time has come." Kikyō's voice was not loud. She was speaking to herself. "He is waiting for me." Her longbow was drawn once more. Yet no arrow was nocked. Reiryoku surged from the bow's body and enveloped her entirely.
The Spiritualization Technique activated. Her figure in white and crimson transformed into a semi-transparent spiritual form. She launched herself from the cliff's edge, soared across the valley between the two peaks, passed through the breach in the Buddhist barrier wall, and shot straight toward the main summit of Mount Hakurei.
Kokoro stood amidst the rubble, staring blankly as that white rainbow streaked past overhead. From here on, she could only leave her fate to the heavens.
The corridor. The Bodhisattva Aspect of Saint Hakurei still loomed. His four arms were spread wide. Vajra. Lotus. Treasure sword. Prayer beads. Vow-power surged ceaselessly from his petrified body, pressing down upon the Shura Form's skeletal frame until it groaned and shrieked.
Shinji's Tenth Transformation Shura was barely holding on, sustained by the Five Elements cycle. But before this flesh-buddha, which had devoured three Guardian Spirits, the gap was still visible to the naked eye. The Bone Thunder colossus was once again crushed back to six meters by the vow-power.
The five viscera were operating normally. Yet the limit was the limit. The Tenth Transformation was, indeed, not enough. He needed the Eleventh Transformation. Needed the other two souls beyond the Demon Soul. Needed the Shikon no Tama.
The Soul-Chasing BowArm Transformation unfurled abruptly. His perception extended outward. Beyond the mountain. Toward that white spiritual light, drawing ever closer.
Kikyō landed at the outer perimeter of the ruined temple at the mountain peak. Her feet touched down upon shattered tiles. The Spiritualization Technique dissolved. She returned to her physical form.
She did not enter the corridor. Her right hand reached into the collar of her miko robes and drew forth the Shikon no Tama from where it rested against her skin.
The fist-sized jewel glowed with a gentle light in her palm. The light of the Naohi. Midoriko's residual soul churned within the jewel. Rings of white light pulsed outward, like a heartbeat.
At the same moment, within Shinji's field of vision, the System panel flickered once more.
[Shikon no Tama: Affection +10. Current Affection: 100.]
No transition. No buffer. From ninety straight to the maximum. As though responding to the very state of Kikyō's heart. And at this moment, Kikyō, more than ever before, yearned to help Shinji.
She could, of course, have directly entered. But she understood even more clearly, what Shinji needed within. She had spent two days breaking through the barrier. She had spent a quarter of an hour dealing with Tsuchimikado Kokoro.
Now, standing here, she had already done everything she needed to do. The rest, she would leave to him. This yearning and trust, was absolute. Utterly pure. And so, the Naohi responded. The pure, righteous, and beautiful spirit within the Shikon no Tama bloomed with a radiance never before seen.
A white pillar of light erupted from Kikyō's palm, piercing through the shattered walls of the temple and plunging deep into the corridor. The end of that pillar of light, like the rays of the sun falling from the heavens, came to rest upon the crown of the Shura Form's head.
Saint Hakurei's movements halted. That crushing oppression, stilled before the radiance of the Shikon no Tama's Naohi. It could advance no further. And then...
[Shikon no Tama has reached Max Affection.]
[Third Talent Unlocked — Spiritual Resonance: The wielder gains the ability to directly resonate with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. May draw upon the pure energy within the environment.]
Following Spiritual Sight and Spiritual Inspiration. Spiritual Resonance. That was, the ability to sense the pure energy of heaven and earth.
The Heaven Soul. White spiritual energy poured from the pillar of light into the Shura Form's cranium. Not yōki. Not reiryoku. It was the condensation of wisdom and compassion, represented by the Kushimitama and Sakimitama among the Four Souls. That force swirled, condensed, and took form within the Shura Form's skull.
The Earth Soul dwelled in the abdomen, rooted in the demonic origin of the demon warrior. The Heaven Soul now dwelled at the crown, receiving the gift of spiritual resonance from the Shikon no Tama.
The Twin Souls, complete. The Eleventh Transformation, half a step taken. Only the Human Soul remained. But the Human Soul was not something that could be summoned by mere thought.
It had to be found. No time left to wait. And no longer any need to wait.
Shinji's crimson demon eyes flew wide open. Five-colored light churned within their depths.
"Come." A single word.
The Shura Form's twin arms spread wide simultaneously. The soul-hunting ability of the Soul-Chasing BowArm Transformation, amplified by the Heaven Soul, skyrocketed.
The range of his perception exploded from a hundred paces to the entirety of Mount Hakurei. He locked onto three targets.
The Golden Lion. The Celestial-Eye Peacock. The Leopard-Tail God. The three Guardian Spirits he had grievously wounded before.
The blood-fire of Onikiri still burned within the Golden Lion's chest. The demonic aura of Yomi-giri still froze the Celestial-Eye Peacock's severed wing. Two scars still remained upon the body of the Leopard-Tail God.
Those wounds. That blood and fire, still lingering within the spirit-bodies of those Guardian Spirits, were anchors. His yōki. His mark. His threads. Saint Hakurei had devoured the three Guardian Spirits. Fused them into his Bodhisattva Aspect.
But fusion was not the same as digestion. Those wounds, carrying the imprint of Shinji's yōki, still remained deep within their spirit-bodies. Like three nails buried in living flesh.
The Soul-Chasing BowArm-Hit, once a soul was locked, the strike would land regardless of physical distance or obstacles. Three beams of dark crimson light shot from the Shura Form's palms.
They pierced through the barrier of vow-power. Pierced through the four-armed defense of the Bodhisattva Aspect. And shot directly into the ruined remnants of those three Guardian Spirits within Saint Hakurei's body. And then, he pulled.
The shattered silhouette of the Golden Lion was wrenched violently from Saint Hakurei's left shoulder. The fragments of the Celestial-Eye Peacock were torn from his chest. The severed body of the Leopard-Tail God was ripped from his spine.
Saint Hakurei's Bodhisattva Aspect shuddered violently. Two of his four arms developed cracks in the instant the Guardian Spirits were torn away. Golden light bled from the fractures. The three ruined Guardian Spirit silhouettes shot toward the Shura Form.
The Shura Form opened its jaws. The three spectral remnants surged inward simultaneously. Golden, black, and white fragments of spirit-bodies collided with the Five Elements cycle within the Shura Form's chest. Clashed. Fused. Recombined.
The fragments of the Mandate converged into the Heaven Soul. The Heaven Soul swelled. It spread from the cranium down the spine. From the spine to the four limbs. The Earth Soul responded from the abdomen. Ascended. Heaven and Earth, the Twin Souls, intersected within the body of the Shura Form.
The Human Soul flickered into near-manifestation. This, this was his true trump card. From the very beginning, wounding those three Guardian Spirits had never been merely for self-preservation. It was for this moment. To plant his own blood and fire within their spirit-bodies. To wait until they were devoured and fused by Saint Hakurei. And then, to tear them out, roots and all, from within. Borrowing the hand of a buddha. To gather the spirits of men unto himself.
If Saint Hakurei had not transformed those Guardian Spirits from the illusory into the tangible... Shinji, even if he could see them, could never have accomplished this. Only, that Human Soul was still short by a single step. There was still one Guardian Spirit missing. The Six-Tusked White Elephant had not yet come. That was the last. And the most critical.
Yes. Though Shinji had not originally wished to harm the Six-Tusked White Elephant, now, having definitively confirmed it was a gift from Taigen Sessai rather than the condensation of Yoshimoto's own Mandate, that hesitation was gone.
In fact, Shinji even suspected: the reason Taigen Sessai had left a Guardian Spirit to Yoshimoto, was, in itself, to suppress her own spirit. As the daimyō of three provinces, the First Archer of the Tōkaidō, Yoshimoto certainly had her own Guardian Spirit. But if following the previous trajectory of her Mandate, she would have collapsed at Okehazama. That Guardian Spirit likely wouldn't have been very strong.
By temporarily suppressing it, preventing it from taking form, and then, after the Mandate was altered, retrieving that Guardian Spirit, the new Guardian Spirit Yoshimoto would condense on her own would be far stronger than before. This was, without a doubt, a calculation of Taigen Sessai. And that moment.... was now.
"Again." Shinji stepped forward. Spoke once more. Spoke again!
....
Mount Hakurei. Various locations. The western mountainside.
The instant Takeda Shingen's fist shattered the last Arhat stone statue before her, she felt the shift above her head. She lifted her gaze.
In the direction of the mountain peak, a pillar of yōki light, woven with five colors, erupted from the temple ruins and collided head-on with the golden vow-power of Saint Hakurei.
The two forces churned into a vortex above the summit. The clouds were torn open into a colossal breach. Moonlight poured through that gap and spilled upon the five-colored pillar of light, refracting a mountain full of shattered radiance.
The density of that yōki, Shingen's footsteps halted. Her iron fan was gripped in her hand. Her knuckles were bone-white. "This density…" Her deep crimson eyes flew wide.
Living in this era, Takeda Shingen could not possibly have avoided encountering other yōkai. Though she did not crusade across the land like the first Uesugi Kenshin, the yōkai encampments, great and small, across the two provinces of Shinano and Kai, she had also purged them.
But this yōki before her now, was entirely different from all of them. It was stronger. More ferocious. Purer. Impure, yet not foul. And it was still rising. Still rising. Like water in a pot, boiled to the point where the lid could no longer contain it, bubbling and spilling over, spilling until the entire mountain trembled in its wake.
"It's catching up to this mountain." Yamagata Masakage stood behind her. She had even forgotten to grip her blade. She stared, mouth agape, toward the mountain peak.
Shingen said nothing more. She tucked her iron fan, its lacquer shattered, back at her waist. Her deep crimson hair flew wildly in the mountain wind. But the corner of her mouth split wide. Her teeth were blindingly white.
"As expected. Absolutely, utterly fascinating." She spoke those three words for the third time. The source of that yōki, needed not even a guess.
The eastern face.
Oda Nobuna crouched behind a toppled Buddha statue, gasping for breath. Her bare feet were scraped raw. Her kosode had gained yet another tear. Katsuie and Toshiie huddled beside her.
The three of them looked like drenched, bedraggled cats. And then the Buddha statues around them, shattered. They shattered from the inside out. Cracks spread outward from within the stone. Golden light erupted from the stone eyes, then flickered and died with a sharp crack.
Like candle flames burning out. One statue. Two. Five. Ten. The chain reaction spread along the stone steps to either side. Every Buddha statue within her field of vision was shattering. The golden curtain of light disintegrated. The suppression vanished.
Nobuna's golden slit-pupils flew wide. She pushed herself up against the stone wall and stared toward the mountain peak. The five-colored pillar of light churned heaven and earth there. The aftershocks rippled through every inch of Mount Hakurei.
Saint Hakurei was drawing all his vow-power back to the summit to contend against that yōki. The barrier surrounding them could no longer hold. That was why the Buddha statues had shattered. Why the suppression had vanished.
Shibata Katsuie also saw that light. Her amber eyes reflected the five-colored pillar. Her expression shifted. The instinct of a divine artifact made her feel something. "That's… Lord Nakai Shinji?"
"Obviously." Nobuna ground her teeth. "Who else could raise this kind of hell atop a buddha's head except that bastard." Her heart burned with even greater displeasure.
And also... "Katsuie! Why are you still calling him 'Lord' even here?!"
Shibata Katsuie blinked. Oh no. I've been found out!
Elsewhere. The sea of flowers on the southern face had also withered.
Imagawa Yoshimoto sat upon the white elephant's back. She watched the vast, endless expanse of white petals beneath her feet, in the span of a few breaths, all of them shrivel, desiccate, and crumble into dust.
The tiny, fingernail-sized Buddhas seated at the center of each petal shattered as well. Golden light rose from the debris and converged along the veins of the mountain toward the summit.
Saint Hakurei was, indeed, gathering every last ounce of his strength. Yoshimoto lifted her head. Her loosened long hair drifted in the night breeze. Her bright, luminous eyes gazed at the five-colored pillar of light erupting toward the heavens in the direction of the peak.
The air around her grew warm. It was the white elephant. The spirit-body of the Six-Tusked White Elephant, beneath her, began to radiate a gentle golden brilliance, ten times brighter than before. All six of its eyes had opened. For the first time, all of them, fully open.
They were gazing at the center of that five-colored pillar of light above the mountain peak. At that yōkai, locked in combat against the flesh-buddha.
Yoshimoto felt something travel up from the white elephant's back. A warm current surged along her spine.
When it reached the back of her head, it transformed into images. Blurred. Fragmented. A woman in white monastic robes. Silver-white hair. Eyes as deep and profound as a dried well. Prayer beads wound through her fingers.
Master Taigen Sessai. The image shattered after a single instant. But what accompanied it, was a single intent. So clear it was as though someone was speaking directly into her ear.
"The time has come, Yoshimoto."
Yoshimoto's body went still. Then she drew a sudden, deep breath. As though she had long been prepared, she nodded firmly. The will her teacher had left within the white elephant, it had not been solely to protect her.
It had been waiting for this very moment. Waiting for an existence that needed the power of the Mandate to complete its metamorphosis to appear. Waiting for the person Taigen Sessai had foreseen on her deathbed, the one destined to intersect with Yoshimoto's fate.
Yoshimoto had been clear on this for a very long time. And she had been waiting. With some trepidation. And even more, with anticipation. Waiting for this moment to arrive.
This time, the white elephant needed no urging from her. The four feet of the Six-Tusked White Elephant lifted from the cliff wall. Its spirit-body swelled to a height of 10 meter. Its six tusks blazed with the vow-power that Taigen Sessai had condensed over a lifetime of cultivation.
It carried Yoshimoto and soared toward the mountain peak. It passed through the withered sea of flowers. Through the shattered Buddha statues. Through the crumbling stone steps and the ruined corridors.
The wind rushed into the loose collar of Yoshimoto's kimono. The deep purple fabric billowed wildly upon the elephant's back, revealing the pale nape of her neck beneath the moonlight. She did not lower her head. She only stared at the heart of that five-colored pillar of light at the summit.
The corridor. Shinji's Soul-Hunting Hand was still suspended in midair. The perception of the Soul-Chasing BowArm Transformation blanketed the entire mountain.
He was searching for the last one. He knew he was still missing this single step. He also knew the Six-Tusked White Elephant was still within the mountain. That spirit-body, different from the other Guardian Spirits, unaffected by Mount Hakurei's pull, condensed by Taigen Sessai's dying thoughts.
He needed it. Needed that final trace of Taigen Sessai's will that still lingered within that white elephant.
If the Golden Lion represented the Feet of Man, like Takeda Shingen herself, unyielding in purpose. If the Celestial-Eye Peacock represented the Eyes of Man, clear and luminous. If the Leopard-Tail God represented the Hands of Man, swift and agile. Then the Six-Tusked White Elephant represented that which commanded them all. The Mind of Man. The brain. The nexus.
He needed it to guide the latent "Spirits of Man" hidden within the other Guardian Spirits. To transform them into the Human Soul. He was also summoning Yoshimoto. That girl… might be willing to make one more transaction with him.
The sensory web of the Soul-Chasing BowArm Transformation unfurled toward the southern face. Then he sensed it. The white elephant was coming on its own. Imagawa Yoshimoto, was also coming.
The Bodhisattva Aspect of Saint Hakurei also sensed it. Its shattered six arms turned toward the south. Vow-power condensed into a wall of light, attempting to intercept. But it was already a step too late.
Golden light surged in through the collapsed gap in the southern wall of the corridor. The Six-Tusked White Elephant, bearing Imagawa Yoshimoto upon its back, crashed directly through Saint Hakurei's barrier wall of vow-power.
The vow-power upon its tusks, Taigen Sessai's vow-power, was equal in quality to Saint Hakurei's. It could not shatter it, but it could force it aside. The white elephant halted abruptly above the corridor.
Yoshimoto slid down from its back. The hems of her twelve-layered kimono billowed and surged. Her loosened hair clung to her cheeks. The young girl's figure was slender and delicate, yet the wind swept and molded her silhouette into undulating, swaying curves. The line of her hips traced through the air.
She descended from above. In that same instant, the spirit of the Six-Tusked White Elephant fused into her body.
In midair, her eyes met Shinji's. She was falling. And then, her lips pressed against the five-colored, intertwining light at the very center of the Shura Form's chest.
To be precise, they pressed against the face of Shinji's true body, revealed within that radiance. Pale. Cold. The lips belonging to a demon warrior. She kissed him. The touch was icy cold.
A sky full of golden motes of light cascaded from Yoshimoto's body and flooded into the Shura Form. The vow-power of Taigen Sessai's entire lifetime. The Mandate guardian of Imagawa Yoshimoto. The faith-power accumulated by the Six-Tusked White Elephant over these months.
All of it, poured in. And the Human Soul, within that kiss, inexplicably. Naturally. Condensed.
"—?!"