"Oh my, oh my... so it's a real onmyōji after all."
Upon seeing the boy in the onmyōji robes, Ashiya Douman smiled with clear interest. His usually half-lidded eyes opened a sliver wider, a gleam of sharp light flashing in his gaze.
"And this sensation... so you've performed a ritual to create a false form of immortality? The Taizan Fukun Ritual? You used that in a place like this?"
At those words, the onmyōji boy's smile faltered. Though he quickly replaced it with a bright grin, a shadow of tension settled in his eyes.
"Even I didn't expect you to notice so quickly… I didn't think a talent like yours still existed in this age. If only you were part of our family—I have no doubt you'd rival even our most brilliant heads."
There was an air of natural arrogance in his tone, as if being qualified to lead his clan were the ultimate honor for any onmyōji in the world.
"But for someone this skilled, I've never even heard of your name. Until now, the only onmyōji worth watching in this era was that little girl from the Keikain family. She's decent, but let's be honest—it's not easy for her talents to bloom in an age like this. You, on the other hand… you're on another level entirely."
"Oh~? Such high praise for this humble monk?"
"Those shikigami you unleashed on the city... If they hadn't revealed themselves during the fight with the Hyaku Monogatari Clan, even I wouldn't have noticed. And now that I've seen you in person, I realize I underestimated you even then."
Douman's shikigami usually moved around disguised as ordinary passersby—but a few operated openly, bearing his exact likeness. The sudden proliferation of identical "Ashiya Doumans" was enough to catch the boy's attention.
And the closer he looked, the more astonished he became.
They were all shikigami—each controlled by the same practitioner.
The sheer number spread throughout the city, the combat ability each one displayed, and how closely they mirrored their master's presence—it all astonished him.
The mastery of shikigami techniques reminded him of the previous head of his family—second only to the founder himself in terms of raw ability.
But when he traced the magical link back to its source… he discovered even that Douman was a shikigami.
That was when he realized he had gravely underestimated his opponent.
"Mmm… this humble monk thinks he understands what you mean. Alas, the real me is a bit preoccupied. I can only chat like this through a shikigami right now. Besides—considering the mess you've made, this poor, frail onmyōji must keep his distance, lest he be captured by yōkai! Ehehe~!"
"Hah! You really are a liar through and through."
The onmyōji boy narrowed his foxlike eyes and smiled.
"You say that, but your disdain for us is practically overflowing. You're just as arrogant as I am. And honestly—I get it. For people like us, pride is our birthright."
After all, we have stood in the shadow of the Founder. We have seen the peak.
He didn't say it aloud, but in his heart, he was referring to Abe no Seimei.
"But meeting you in person raised a question I can't answer. May I ask it?"
"Hmm?"
"Why… are you opposing us?"
Both men smiled as they spoke, but the air between them turned heavy—something intangible was spreading between them.
"Mmm? Mmmmm… This humble monk doesn't quite follow."
Douman tilted his head with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Couldn't it be that I simply couldn't bear to watch your atrocities any longer? That I wanted to help people, become a hero of justice?"
"Spare me the lies—even you don't believe that."
The boy's eyes glinted like a sly fox as they cracked open.
"You mock humans. Mock yōkai. Mock the world itself. With that much malice inside you, there's no way you'd act for such a laughable reason. Honestly—if anyone were suited to turning this city into hell, it'd be you."
From behind the boy, Enchō—who had been silent until now—suddenly felt a chill down his spine.
It was as though he had fallen into an abyss of pure malice. At its darkest depths, something unnameable and formless turned its gaze upon him.
He could hear it… a whisper steeped in malice. His vision blurred with an inky, bottomless darkness.
"Heh… heh heh… hehehehehe… HAHAHAHAHA!"
What started as a low chuckle became sharper, more vicious, more deranged.
Douman's silhouette began to warp. Jet-black malice oozed from his body like tar, spreading under their feet.
"Oh, how sharp you are! How perceptive! Then allow me to reward your insight! Of course, this humble monk never really tried to hide it in the first place."
"You ask my purpose? Isn't it obvious?"
As if shedding every pretense, Douman's grin turned monstrous—uglier than any beast, more malicious than any demon.
His voice trembled with a raging, burning obsession as he shouted the name.
"ABE NO SEIMEI—!"
At that name, both the onmyōji boy and Enchō visibly flinched.
Douman raised a finger at them, his voice hoarse with venom.
"You two—are Seimei's lapdogs, aren't you?!"
"SEIMEI—! SEIMEI—! SEIMEI—!"
"In this world, he is the one—the only one—I will never forgive!"
Right now, Ashiya Douman was no longer a man.
He was a god of malice, walking the earth. Ink-black hatred rippled outward from him, like dye in water turning the world dark.
Just standing in his presence, Enchō and the onmyōji boy could feel themselves drowning.
"If Seimei's dream is to fill this world with light—then I will paint the sun black with my hatred! If Seimei longs for perfect order—then I will plunge the world into endless chaos and war!"
"Seimei's ideals, Seimei's hopes, Seimei's work… I'll crush it ALL! Whatever brings him pain, I'll make it my mission! I want to see him groveling like a starving mutt, rooting through garbage!"
"Just imagining it… just imagining Seimei powerless, glaring up at me in hatred, crawling on all fours—ahhh, ahhh… I—!"
Mid-sentence, Douman suddenly stabbed his sharp nails into his own temple. Blood spurted as he twisted his fingers violently—and his expression twisted into pure madness.
"I GET SO GODDAMN HIGH—HAHAHAHAHA—!!"
One moment, he was a demon of hatred. The next, he wore a gentle, harmless smile again—like nothing had happened.
"And that, dear guests, is this humble monk's purpose. Was that helpful, Enchō? And you too… child of Seimei."
"..."
The boy said nothing.
His smile was gone. Cold sweat soaked through his clothing. He looked like he'd been dragged out of a frozen lake.
His name was Abe no Ariyuki, the fourth head of the Mikado-in family—once the Abe family.
Abe no Seimei was the first head. In other words, Ariyuki was Seimei's great-grandson.
The Mikado-in family was the Abe family reborn—until the fifth head, hoping to escape Seimei's legacy, changed the name. When he failed, he vanished into obscurity.
All other heads had lived only to fulfill Seimei's will, even extending their lives through the Taizan Fukun Ritual, awaiting his return.
And now… Abe no Ariyuki understood.
This man standing before him—was a threat.
A mortal enemy of Abe no Seimei's dream.
And yet… his human instincts screamed at him not to fight.
Even though he'd sworn to offer his life for Seimei's vision, now—he was terrified.
That towering, twisted malice—it was overwhelming. A wave of terror surged up from within, shattering his composure.
The whispers of an ancient, unknowable god echoed in his ears.
This was no human. Not even a yōkai.
This was chaos incarnate—a god of madness, disorder, and lunacy.
The silence was suffocating.
Until—someone shattered it with a roar.
"ENCHŌ—!"
A figure leapt onto the rooftop, cloaked in darkness.
Nura Rikuo.
But different from before.
Ink-black hair fluttered behind him like brushstrokes on paper. Strange yōkai markings stretched beneath his eyes. His entire body radiated yōki as deep and cold as the night sky.
This was a Rikuo worthy of the title—
"Master of All Mononoke."
After all, strength may be temporary—but style is eternal.
Landing gracefully, Rikuo's blade—wreathed in black yōki—pointed straight at Enchō.
"Nura Rikuo…"
Enchō turned slowly, muttering under his breath.
"You've already caught up?"
"I warned you, Enchō."
Rikuo's voice was low, laced with killing intent.
"Committing such atrocities on my turf—you've forfeited your right to see the dawn!"
Enchō had not planned to face Rikuo so soon.
He'd come here only because he trusted Ariyuki—and because this Douman had derailed his plans far more than expected.
But they had both underestimated the "nobody" who had stepped from the shadows of history.
Ariyuki raised a hand and touched the air. A seven-pointed star appeared, and the space around him and Enchō transformed into mirrored walls reflecting their images.
They were trying to escape.
"Ah ah ah… not so fast."
"If you two run away under my nose, that damn fox Seimei will mock me forever—like some rotten pumpkin smiling on Halloween!"
In the next instant, the mirror world shattered.
CRACK—!
"Hhrk—!"
Ariyuki collapsed to his knees, coughing blood.
His spell had been violently broken—and the backlash was brutal.
How…? I didn't even see what he did… and he still broke my barrier…
For a fleeting moment, Ariyuki thought he saw it—
His ancestor. The strongest onmyōji in history. Abe no Seimei.
That same impossible, terrifying power.
Seeing Ariyuki down, Enchō realized—they wouldn't be escaping through magic.
This shikigami master had surpassed all their calculations.
Still, not all was lost.
"It was meant to be our last resort, but… I didn't expect to need it."
"What are you planning, Enchō?!"
In a flash, Rikuo was on him—his blade swung like an ink brush across a scroll, aimed for Enchō's neck.
It would hit—
"Are you sure… you want half of Tokyo to die with me?"
"!!"
Rikuo's blade stopped.
The edge hovered an inch from Enchō's throat.
If looks could kill, Rikuo would've torn him apart ten thousand times.
"What… are you talking about, Enchō?!"
"Exactly what it sounds like."
Enchō stared him down with those painted-on eyes.
"Right now, your Nura Clan is battling our Hyaku Monogatari yōkai, yes?"
"Each one of them… carries a 'bomb' within."
"The stronger their yōki, the bigger the explosion. If they all go off now—it won't kill everyone, but it'll be enough. With the resulting fires, earthquakes, and collapses… I'd estimate half the city will die."
"And the trigger… is my life."
"You…"
"By the way—it doesn't matter if the yōkai are already dead. Their corpses can still explode. Unless you reduce them to ashes, they're still armed."
"So, what will you do, Nura Rikuo?"
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T/N: tsk loser behavior, also didnt know Limbo was a hater of that level