Within Heian-kyō.
Satsuki had just left the Emperor's palace together with the shrine maidens from the Cherry Blossom Shrine and several other grand shrines.
The matter announced during the Emperor's summons was exactly as she had known beforehand—an imperial decree to enshrine Shintō as the state religion.
To ordinary people, this might seem a cause for celebration. Yet everyone directly involved understood that this was a negotiation filled with veiled threats and hidden blades.
For the Emperor and the onmyōji, who had proactively proposed this decree, they were naturally placed in a defensive position on the larger scale.
After all, before the Lunar Palace came forth to "clarify" the matter, everyone believed that it had been the Yasaka Shrine who had eradicated Shuten Dōji.
And the extermination of Shuten Dōji was directly tied to the agreement between the Amatsukami and the Kunitsukami. This was something far beyond the scope of ordinary mortals to discuss.
Thus, the establishment of Shintō as the state religion was an inevitable trend—one that could not be resisted.
From a political standpoint, this canonization of Shintō represented a structural reform of power—pushing the secular government toward a model of theocratic unification.
This would undoubtedly weaken the authority of Kyoto's officials. Yet, as the saying goes, "Under the eaves, one must bow one's head." To ensure the safety of Kyoto, dependence on the power of the shrines was indispensable.
To yield part of their authority was inevitable. Moreover, since even the onmyōji offered no protest, the ordinary bureaucrats could do nothing but swallow their bitterness in silence.
However, a skilled negotiator could always use such "unavoidable concessions" as leverage to secure more flexible benefits.
And clearly, the Emperor—well past his fifties—was precisely such a man.
After officially announcing the decree, he subtly hinted through conversation that, as the most revered existence upon the earth, he too must hold a place within Shintō.
In this way, although Kyoto's ruling class lost some of its political influence, in exchange it gained greater security.
Within the ruling group, the Emperor's position, now blessed by Shintō's divine endorsement, would instead become even more stable.
In truth, this meant that his status was indirectly strengthened.
This Emperor was a wise man, yet as the nominal supreme ruler, he harbored an unresolvable affliction—
The regional lords and generals across the land all commanded private armies.
Though they nominally pledged allegiance to him, in reality they ruled their own territories as kings. Kyoto had no actual authority over them. Worse still, these lords constantly waged war upon each other, with conflicts breaking out endlessly.
However, given the chaotic state of the world—where yōkai rampaged unchecked—the Emperor had no justifiable reason to order these lords to disarm.
Without reclaiming military power, there could be no discussion of governance. As a result, his rule had long been hollowed out by these regional lords.
It might have been tolerable if it were merely symbolic, but lately he had sensed a growing restlessness among his subordinates. He could no longer be sure he could even hold on to his hollow throne.
The shrine maidens of the great shrines quickly grasped his intention.
After some deliberation, the Miko of Ise promised that once Shintō became the state religion, the Emperor would be revered as Shintō's supreme leader within the mortal realm. Furthermore, he and his direct descendants would be enshrined as descendants of Amaterasu Ōmikami herself—thus easing his anxiety.
In the end, both sides found the arrangement mutually beneficial, and the matter was settled.
...
Of course, the negotiation process was not as blunt as it sounded. The upper echelons of society favored speaking in circles—expressing their demands through hints and metaphors.
It was a way of preserving at least the appearance of dignity.
Yet, to Satsuki, regardless of how ornate the language used in the meeting was, its essence amounted to nothing more than a common exchange of interests.
Such matters—more tedious than putting makeup on a watermelon—quickly sapped her interest.
Just as she was growing increasingly bored, she received a report from Lana, relayed through the Giant Tenseigan.
"Oh? A large vessel capable of flight has been discovered in the sky?"
Satsuki had little interest in the forces of Mount Suzuka, nor did she care about the strength of Ōtakemaru—one of the so-called Four Lords of the Realm. In her eyes, they were nothing more than insignificant small fry.
However, what truly caught Satsuki's attention was Lana's mention of those enormous vessels capable of floating in the sky.
In the future, her journey was destined to reach the sea of stars. She would need a means to allow her forces to conduct large-scale interstellar travel.
Outer space was a vast expanse, filled with celestial bodies and various forms of matter. Yet the cosmic environment was one of vacuum, low pressure, and intense radiation, where deadly cosmic rays abounded and temperatures fluctuated drastically.
How to move and perform spatial jumps across the cosmos had always been a difficult problem.
Although Satsuki had once attempted to move through outer space using the Tenseigan Chakra Mode, she had never strayed far from the moon at that time. Her range of movement was relatively short, thus rendering her experience insufficient as a reference.
Even if the Tenseigan Chakra Mode allowed for activity in the vacuum of space, distances in the universe were measured in light-years. The speed granted by the Tenseigan Chakra Mode could not even allow travel between star systems—let alone match the Ōtsutsuki clan, who operated across the cosmos.
Therefore, these ghost ships that had come to her doorstep presented themselves as perfect foundational materials.
Once she understood their principles of flight and energy generation, Satsuki could easily use other means to reconstruct and upgrade them with more suitable materials.
Thus, through the Giant Tenseigan, she ordered Lana to transfer all those ghost ships to the Lunar Palace base on the moon.
As for those yōkai of Mount Suzuka who had traveled across the sea to "deliver gifts," Satsuki paid them no mind—she left it entirely to Lana's discretion how to handle them.
When Satsuki's command was relayed, it coincided exactly with the moment Suzuka Gozen sensed danger and attempted to retreat.
However, since the Demon Buddha had issued an order, the Phantom Spirit King Lana—one of the Three Kings—could no longer hold back.
Her hands formed several mudra-like gestures before her chest, and in an instant, the entire sky was filled with a massive, sun-obscuring magic array. It was a scene reminiscent of the old world of YGGDRASIL.
At that moment, blue flames of authority began to burn around Lana's body, her form surrounded by layers of shimmering afterimages. This phenomenon occurred only when her power exceeded the capacity of the space she inhabited.
The blue halo behind her was no longer a mere decoration, as it had been with the Status Infusion clone earlier. On the contrary, the immense array filling the heavens originated precisely from that wheel—serving as a targeting mechanism for a large-scale Status Infusion field.
Everything swept by the array—including Ōtakemaru, Suzuka Gozen, and their many subordinates—found their bodies frozen in place, utterly unable to move.
Nor were they the only ones trapped. In the skies above, the movement of wind was halted, the drifting of clouds obstructed, the raging lightning frozen in mid-split arcs, and the falling rain of fire became suspended specks of light...
At this moment, heaven and earth truly fell silent.
Everything—save for thought itself—had been completely frozen by the magic array.
Then, once again, that soft, faint voice echoed throughout the still world. But this time, for the yōkai who heard it, it was no longer gentle—it was pure, unending terror.
"Hey... the game's over. You have nowhere left to run."
The enormous array transformed into a vast ring of light expanding outward like the radiant wave of creation sweeping through all six realms. In an instant, heaven and earth were overturned.
Whether yōkai or mortal attempting to flee, the moment they were touched by that divine radiance, their consciousnesses were instantly engulfed by darkness.
...
After the Emperor's assembly, Kyoto entered a brief period of calm.
The Lunar Palace made no public moves. It was as though the entire organization had vanished from this era. Yet no one dared to relax—everyone knew this was merely the calm before the storm.
There was a shared understanding among all factions: a mysterious and formidable group like that would never disappear so quietly. Without question, they were preparing for something far grander and far more dangerous.
As Ashiya Dōman had once said—ten such masters gathered together could not possibly be doing charity work.
Though the Lunar Palace had yet to reappear, the influence of the black magatamas had already begun to manifest.
Across the nation, yōkai and powerful individuals driven by the black magatamas were stirring up chaos and incidents everywhere.
Ordinarily, such disturbances were not uncommon. But once these events were connected to the Lunar Palace, the high-ranking figures of the Shintō world treated them with exceptional seriousness.
During this time, their research into the black magatamas also yielded some preliminary understanding.
The black magatamas were composed of an unknown substance—neither mineral nor material found in nature, but a kind of condensed energy polymer.
Although the magatamas appeared solid and could be felt by touch, that sensation was not from the material itself, but rather from the repulsive force it emitted.
In other words, what people felt when they touched it was not the magatama's physical form, but the energy barrier projected outward from it.
This situation stalled all further attempts at study.
Until that repulsion layer could be overcome, no method could truly come into contact with the magatama's essence—as if an infinite distance separated the two.
It was said that Takemikazuchi-no-Ōkami of the Katori Shrine had once personally attempted to probe the magatama's inner state under the shrine maiden's prayer.
But even that god's consciousness could not pierce through the endless void—and nearly became trapped within, unable to return.
In the end, the attempt was abandoned.
...
During this time, Satsuki, Ruri, and Kaguya had completely secluded themselves indoors.
Developing a perfected version of the Impure World Reincarnation turned out to be far more difficult than Satsuki had anticipated.
The Inuyasha world, being only a temporary stop for her, lacked the specialized facilities she once had in the Naruto world for experimentation.
The lack of a laboratory was not the main issue, however.
What truly troubled Satsuki was that she did not wish to follow in the footsteps of the so-called "Scapegoat King," Tobirama Senju, by using summoning-based methods to create her own version of Edo Tensei.
After all, such bodies were inherently restrained by the Truth-Seeking Orbs. She needed to design a different vessel and framework for her own version.
Her plan was simple—first, to develop a similar technique based on her own Tenseigan, and later, upon returning to the Naruto world, to use the Byakugan as a template for a simplified derivative.
After all, the Tenko Corps were composed entirely of members of the Hyūga clan, all of whom possessed the Byakugan.
Speaking of the Byakugan inevitably led to mention of the Rinnegan.
Although she had access to Satsuki's pair of eyes for reference, and the Giant Tenseigan stored a vast amount of related data, Satsuki discovered several inherent flaws in the Rinnegan during her research.
Undeniably, even if considered solely as a dōjutsu, the Rinnegan was immensely powerful—worthy of its title as the "Eye that Controls Life and Death."
Shinra Tensei, Banshō Ten'in, Chibaku Tensei, Tengai Shinsei, Limbo: Border Jail...
Its array of techniques was vast and diverse, and even in the much-criticized sequel series Boruto, more variations of its abilities had emerged.
Yet, one undeniable problem remained—the Rinnegan was less versatile than the Tenseigan system.
From the awakening of the base Sharingan to its gradual evolution into two-tomoe, three-tomoe, Mangekyō, Eternal Mangekyō, and finally the Rinnegan—it seemed like a reasonable, progressive process. Even Madara Uchiha had followed this path.
But truly, how many Madara Uchiha existed in the entire ninja world?
Even Madara Uchiha had only awakened the Rinnegan after consuming a portion of Hashirama Senju's flesh—allowing the unification of Yin and Yang to give birth to the power of all creation. It was only in his old age, on the brink of death, that he finally achieved the Rinnegan.
Compared to the original Ōtsutsuki Hagoromo, who awakened his Rinnegan in an instant out of wrath upon witnessing his brother's death, such a slow progression seemed almost painfully drawn out.
This revealed a major problem. If both eyes were capable of reaching the level of the Six Paths, why was there such an enormous difference between them?
At first, Satsuki believed it to be a matter of bloodline. But now, having herself ascended in one step to obtain the Tenseigan, she understood the real reason.
These dōjutsu required an immense energy core to sustain their systems.
Her Tenseigan drew power from the Giant Tenseigan as its energy source. Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki, being Kaguya's direct descendant, indirectly inherited the energy of the Ten-Tails Divine Tree.
These cores were the true foundation of such eye techniques.
Without such a core, one could only rely on one's own body to sustain the tremendous energy consumption of the dōjutsu—as Madara had done.
This not only prevented the full development of the Rinnegan's higher capabilities, but could also lead to a parasitic relationship, as seen in Nagato—where one's own life force was drained to maintain the power of the eyes, resulting in mutual destruction.
At present, though Satsuki had revived Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, she did not possess the Ten-Tails Divine Tree. Therefore, her chosen path would naturally revolve around the Tenseigan system. Whether to further refine the Rinnegan system would depend on whether she could later acquire the technology to harness the Ten-Tails' power.
In conclusion, Satsuki determined that the Tenseigan was a more suitable platform for developing new ninjutsu. Yet even so, the difficulty of such an undertaking was immense.
To build higher upon the foundation of the Tenseigan's power meant venturing into dangerous territory—where the slightest miscalculation could lead to catastrophic, unpredictable consequences.
The power of the Tenseigan was overwhelming—a supreme dōjutsu that, once awakened, allowed one to transcend multiple levels in an instant.
In the original Naruto world, it was an "out-of-specification" power—something seen only in the movie canon, comparable to the Ryūmyaku Chakra itself. Within the moon's Ōtsutsuki clan, even over a thousand years, only their ancestor Hamura Ōtsutsuki had ever speculated on the theoretical possibility of an individual awakening the Tenseigan.
In truth, even Hamura himself possessed only the purest form of Byakugan. The reason he could manifest Truth-Seeking Orbs was simply that his base strength had reached the level of the Six Paths; through that power alone, he was able to generate them.
Thus, Satsuki had no precedent or example to refer to in her development of the Tenseigan's abilities.
Her only possible test subject was herself.
For this reason, she had spent the past weeks using her Energy Control ability to meticulously record every detail of her manipulation process throughout development.
Immersed in the depths of her research, she lost all sense of time.
It was only when she received a letter from one of the shrine maidens that she remembered—the Celestial Coronation Ceremony was only a month away.