When Tomioka Giyu stepped into Hieda Town, the sun blazed fiercely, yet its light couldn't pierce the gloom blanketing the village.
The street was empty, doors and windows tightly shut, but he could clearly feel it—countless eyes peering from narrow cracks, watching his every move in nervous silence.
There was no sweet metallic scent of demons in the air. Instead, it was heavy with something oppressive, a blend of fear and numbness.
He made no sound, his steps light as a stalking cat. His right hand rested on the hilt of his sword, fingertips sensing the faint chill of the scabbard.
Water Breathing flowed slowly within his body, sharpening his awareness—searching for the demon's presence and for any trace of Tanaka Hei or Sato Shin.
The village wasn't large. Soon, he reached the narrow alley on the west side—the place Suzuki Jiro had mentioned.
Blood stains still darkened the dirt road, half-dried and mixed with soil into a dull brown.
Deep claw marks slashed across the nearby wall—no human could have made them. They looked more like the gouges of a beast.
The demon had to be close.
Just as Giyu prepared to search further, a small force tugged sharply at his wrist.
He turned instantly, blade half-drawn, a flash of cold light slicing through the air—then stopped when he saw who it was.
A little girl, maybe six or seven years old, wearing a faded cotton kimono washed almost white. Her hair was tangled, her face smeared with dirt.
Her wide eyes brimmed with fear far beyond her age. She clutched his sleeve tightly, her thin body trembling like a leaf in the wind.
"Don't… don't make a sound!"
Her voice was low and shaky, threaded with tears.
"Come with me!"
Before Giyu could respond, she pulled him toward a narrow earthen passageway beside the street.
The alley was tight, barely enough for one person to pass. High dirt walls rose on both sides, blocking out sunlight and leaving the air damp and dim.
The girl dragged him to a corner deep inside before stopping, leaning against the wall and gasping for breath.
She peeked around carefully, making sure no one had followed, then turned back to look up at him.
"You're… a samurai from outside?" she whispered, her eyes fixed on the sword at his waist.
Giyu nodded silently, waiting for her to continue.
"My name is Yamashita Hui."
Her cracked lips trembled, fear deepening in her gaze.
"You should leave! While you still can!"
"Why?" Giyu's voice was low.
Yamashita Hui's body shivered. She lowered her voice to barely a breath. "Because the Kishin-sama… is about to have lunch."
Giyu's brow tightened. "What do you mean?"
Her eyes reddened, her voice breaking. "It means… it's time for the offering. Every day around now, we have to send food to Kishin-sama."
"Offering?" he pressed. "What kind of offering?"
Her lips quivered, but the words that came out stabbed like ice into his chest. "Humans… we offer humans."
She sniffled, glanced around again, and only after confirming it was safe did she continue, her voice halting and uneven.
"Our Hieda Town is up north. The weather's cold, and crops don't grow well. It used to be okay—people had skills. Some made bamboo crafts, some made wooden sandals, some tanned leather. We could trade those for grain or a bit of money. Life was hard, but at least it went on."
"But… about half a year ago, the officials suddenly changed the policy."
Her tone dropped lower, trembling with fear.
"They tripled the taxes and said our bamboo crafts and sandals were 'useless goods,' banning us from selling them outside. They said it was to 'restore proper order,' but really, those officials just wanted to control all the trade themselves—forcing us to buy their grain at double the price."
"How could we afford that?"
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Our food stores ran out fast. The officials came every day to collect tax. If we had no money or food, they took our things, tore our roofs apart, dragged the men away as laborers… Most of them never came back. You couldn't count the dead even on two hands."
Giyu listened in silence.
He had long known of the government's corruption—but never imagined it could be this cruel.
"Just when we couldn't hold on anymore, Kishin-sama appeared."
Yamashita Hui's voice trembled with mixed emotions—fear, dependence, and dull resignation.
"It looked terrifying, with so many arms… but it didn't hurt us. Instead… it ate all those officials who came to collect tax."
"The first time we saw it, everyone was terrified."
"But later, we realized… the officials stopped coming, and we could finally breathe again."
"Then, the village elders made a deal with Kishin-sama."
Yamashita Hui's voice grew lower and lower until it was almost inaudible.
"We promised never to tell outsiders about it, never to let anyone from outside enter the village. In return, every month… we offer a sacrifice. And it promises to keep the officials away and protect the village."
"The sacrifices… at first were…"
She bit her lip hard, speaking with difficulty.
"It started with the elderly who were starving… then the orphans that no one wanted… and later… people who disobeyed the elders…"
Inside his sleeve, Giyu's hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles whitening.
"In the last few months, there haven't been enough villagers left."
Yamashita Hui's tears flowed even faster.
"Kishin-sama said it was hungry. The elders said… they could use outsiders instead. Traveling merchants, lost wanderers—anyone who entered the village never came back out."
"Today… two men in black clothes came. They said they were looking for someone."
Her small body trembled violently.
"I hid behind the door and saw it… the villagers held them down and dragged them to Kishin-sama's cave. Today… they're Kishin-sama's lunch."
Tanaka Hei and Sato Shin.
Giyu's chest tightened as if gripped by an icy hand, a suffocating pain spreading through him.
He had guessed it right—they had become sacrifices.
"Why are you telling me this?" His voice was hoarse.
Yamashita Hui lifted her tearful eyes to him. "My mother said Kishin-sama is a demon. If you make a deal with a demon, you'll be eaten sooner or later. She said the officials before were evil—but at least they were human. This thing… it's a monster that eats people."
She sniffled. "When I saw you enter the village, I thought your clothes looked like the two from yesterday… You need to leave. If you don't go now, it'll be too late! The elders will find out soon and send you to Kishin-sama too!"
Giyu stood silently.
Sunlight slipped through the cracks in the wall, drawing a narrow beam across the dusty air.
Inside him, emotions twisted in a storm he couldn't name.
Anger.
At the demon's cruelty. At the villagers' cowardice and their choice to side with evil. At the corruption and uselessness of the officials.
Absurdity.
Humans, driven to the edge, turning to demons for survival—even offering their own kind as sacrifices.
And beneath it all, a quiet heaviness.
These villagers were guilty, yes, but they were also victims—forced into madness by oppression and despair. They only wanted to live… and chose the worst possible way to do it.
"Where is Kishin-sama?" Giyu asked suddenly, his voice calm to the point of being terrifying.
Yamashita Hui froze. "You… you're going to find it? No! You can't! It's strong—really strong! It has so many arms, it can tear people apart in one hit!"
"Where is it?" Giyu repeated, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
The little girl shrank under his gaze, trembling as she pointed toward the north. "It's… it's in the cave up north. It used to be a grain storehouse, but it took it over…"
Giyu nodded. He raised his hand and gently patted her head.
The motion was stiff, but it carried a faint trace of comfort.
"Thank you, Yamashita Hui."
"You… you're really going?"
He didn't answer. He simply turned and began walking north.
His steps were steady, not a hint of hesitation.
Sunlight stretched his shadow long across the dusty ground. His deep blue haori rippled faintly in the wind—like a banner raised amid despair.
He knew what awaited him ahead wasn't just a demon.
It was also a village swallowed by fear and numbness.
But he had no choice.
That demon had to die.
And those villagers… he didn't know how to judge them, or what to do with them afterward.
But at the very least, he couldn't let them continue down this path of sin.
Tomioka Giyu's figure disappeared at the end of the alley, leaving Yamashita Hui standing where she was, hands clasped together, whispering a prayer.
She prayed for that stranger to survive—and for her cursed village to somehow find salvation.
The northern cave drew nearer. Giyu could already smell the faint scent of blood in the air.
It wasn't fresh—it was old, thick, and rotten, reeking of decay.
He gripped his Nichirin Sword tighter.
Water Breathing surged within him, gathering like an oncoming tide.
The battle was about to begin.