Ibaraki's weapon was no divine blade, no legendary demon sword with a name to echo through the ages.
But it was something only a true oni could wield—a massive bone blade forged from pure malice and curses, an edge so steeped in yōki it could shake the very moonlit night.
When the blade swung down, the grudge flowing along its edge shrieked like a banshee. The flames it called forth roared like the karmic fires of hell itself.
The slash tore through the air, trailing behind it a wave of searing fire capable of reducing all to ash.
As the inferno distorted the very air, engulfing Kintōmaru completely, Ibaraki's smile faded. Her brow creased in solemn silence.
"…Forgive me, my lord… for receiving you in such disgrace."
Kintōmaru knelt on the scorched earth, his form battered and burned, skin seared across his arms and face.
"It's fine. I see your effort and loyalty, Kintōmaru."
He stood amidst the flames like a king wreathed in fire. The inferno bowed to him, refusing to encroach even a half meter from where he stood.
He took a step forward—and the flames parted obediently, clearing a path that brought him face to face with Ibaraki.
"Your opponent is a purer oni, a higher-tier existence. Your defeat is understandable."
Abe no Seimei had arrived.
At the sight of him, Ibaraki's entire body tensed. She immediately leapt back beside Shuten, voice trembling with unease.
"H-Hey! Shuten, that guy… he's serious trouble!"
Seimei glanced briefly at the two oni girls, then turned his gaze toward the demon horde still kneeling under their pressure. His expression was calm.
"A King of Hell's demons, hmm? That such entities still dwell in Jigoku… why are you only surfacing now?"
He rubbed his chin, his pitch-black, pupil-less eyes studying Shuten and Ibaraki with evident thought.
Before his resurrection, he had lingered in Hell for a millennium, controlling hordes of demons and even allying with Sanmoto Gorōzaemon.
Yet he'd never heard of these two before.
Could this be connected to the disappearance of Blackblade Mountain…? he wondered.
After witnessing their strength and their dominion over countless demons, a bold thought stirred within him.
"You two… how would you like to serve under me?"
He spoke directly, his ambition laid bare. "I will build a utopia—a world ruled by yōkai, where humans are subordinate. If you pledge your loyalty, you can be part of this new realm, sharing in the glory of an age unlike any before."
"…Hah? You wanna make us your subordinates? Did something rattle loose in your head?"
Ibaraki pointed a finger at him, voice filled with scorn. "You're a human, aren't you? And yet you think to command us? What gall! How ignorant and arrogant can one mortal be?!"
Seimei's brow twitched, irritation creeping onto his face.
"In my new world, there will be no place for foolish humans or rebellious yōkai. If you won't serve me, then death is your only future."
"Then bring it, why don't you! After all that blabbering, aren't you just itching for a fight? Acting like some nagging housewife—what's in your pants, anyway? Anything at all?!"
Fire ignited around Ibaraki, her golden oni eyes burning scarlet with bloodlust.
"We are the Oni Kings—I and Shuten! We will never bow to some mere—"
Splurt!
A sharp, wet sound as flesh was pierced.
Hot blood spattered across the scorched earth.
Blood trickled from Ibaraki's lips as she slowly turned her head—only to see Shuten, sipping her wine as if nothing had happened.
"S…Shuten…"
"Ara ara, Ibaraki, how naughty of you."
Setting down her sake cup, she gave a bewitching smile.
"You just kept rambling on like I wasn't even here… did I ever give you the right to speak in my place?"
Her bloodstained arm gave a light shove, and Ibaraki went tumbling behind her like a discarded rag doll.
"This time, I'll just take a lung. Maybe next time you'll learn."
"…I'm sorry… Shuten…"
Their exchange defied all human logic or morality. To any outsider, the scene would send a chill straight to the bones.
Which only confirmed—Shuten-dōji was not human. She was something else entirely—a walking embodiment of chaos, a creature fundamentally incompatible with human reason.
"…So. Are you saying you'll obey me?"
Seimei's voice cut in, laced with pressure. His gaze bore into Shuten, as though daring her to reject him.
"Oho~ such a scary face. Spare me, will you?"
Unfazed, she took another sip and smiled slyly.
"Become your subordinate? Mmm… sounds kind of fun. Sure, why not?"
"…A wise decision."
"But—I choose no."
That left Seimei frozen, as if he'd just swallowed a dead fly. His expression twisted in disbelief.
Just as he seemed ready to strike, Shuten added cheerfully,
"Oh dear, so scary! You look like you're ready to gobble me up. But really—it's not on purpose, you see. The truth is… Ibaraki and I aren't exactly free agents. We can't serve under you."
"…Not free?" A flicker of curiosity surfaced in Seimei's voice. "There exists someone capable of controlling the likes of you two?"
To beat Kintōmaru, to command all these demons—Shuten and Ibaraki weren't just powerful. They were terrifying.
Even Seimei had to admit: were they in the mortal realm, no yōkai alive today could match them.
Even he, in life, would've found them troublesome opponents.
So… who could possibly be above them?
"If it's a human… who knows?" Shuten licked her lips, amused. "If there is someone like that, wouldn't that be fun? Maybe I'll eat him up—bones and all—and make him mine forever."
"…So, that existence is not human?"
"Well… ahhh, explaining is such a pain. Why don't I just show you? Easier than talking."
Saying this, Shuten turned and casually yanked Ibaraki off the ground, dragging her along as her blood left a long smear behind them.
"C'mon, Ibaraki. Quit playing dead. Let's show them the thing."
"H-Hey! Shuten! Aren't we supposed to guard that thing? Quit pulling me! I can walk, I can walk! The rocks are digging into my wounds!"
Kintōmaru eyed them warily, worried this was some elaborate trap. But Seimei, perhaps confident in his own strength, simply followed without a word.
After a long walk, Shuten suddenly stopped.
To Seimei and Kintōmaru, there was nothing here—just barren red soil as far as the eye could see.
"Come on, Ibaraki. Help me open it."
"Whatever… do what you want."
Ibaraki sighed. She was used to her impulsive whims by now.
Together, they each raised a hand toward the empty space in front of them.
And before Seimei and Kintōmaru's eyes… space itself tore open.
It was as if everything in front of them had only been a painted backdrop—now shredded to reveal the truth behind the illusion.
What emerged was not a door or a gate—but a pillar that stretched toward the heavens. Or perhaps "tree" was the better word.
Cracked white bark covered its surface, and at a height of over a thousand meters, its limbs spread into a crown-like canopy. The inside was hollow—and within it shimmered a galaxy.
No metaphor, no exaggeration—an actual galaxy.
Look upon it. Stand in awe.
It was like the first time mankind ever gazed into the night sky, struck by the terrifying beauty of the cosmos. An unknowable truth of the universe etched itself into their eyes—and they could only tremble in reverence.
"…Ah… ahhh…"
Words failed him.
At the very moment he laid eyes on it, Seimei was overwhelmed by a tidal wave of emotion.
This was the greatest mystery in existence. A treasure capable of resetting the world, birthing new legends. A cornerstone of creation itself.
He understood it the moment he saw it.
Though he couldn't perceive its true nature, he could feel the overwhelming power it contained—enough to rewrite the laws of reality.
"This is what Ibaraki and I are guarding," Shuten said, her sultry voice bringing him back to the present. "Its name is… the Fantasy Tree."
"Fantasy Tree… I see. So it extends its roots into reality, replaces it with fable—and makes fantasy the new truth?"
A fevered gleam filled Seimei's eyes.
"That means… you two aren't the real Shuten and Ibaraki. You're conceptual constructs—summoned into being through this Fantasy Tree?"
"Ugh, you make it sound so complicated. I can't follow all that," Shuten pouted, then took another sip and smiled. "But sure—let's go with that."
With that confirmation, Seimei turned his gaze back to the tree—unable to look away.
If I possess this… If I can control it… I could make my ideal world real.
A burning hunger rose in his chest.
This was the shortcut he'd prayed for—the tool to bypass all obstacles and manifest his utopia.
"I knew it. Heaven smiles upon me. My dream was right all along!"
Even if the Fantasy Tree possessed powers beyond gods—Seimei had no doubt.
He believed, truly, that he alone—chosen by fate, having transcended life and death—was worthy to wield it.
He reached out.
Toward the tree.
"Tsk, that won't do."
The air filled with the scent of wine.
A flood of sweet liquor surged toward him like a tidal wave, threatening to dissolve him to the bone.
But Seimei merely flicked his finger.
A seven-pointed star array burst into existence, freezing the wave mid-crash—then shattering it into icy shards that drifted gently to the ground.
He stared coldly at the woman now standing between him and the tree.
"You plan to stop me?"
"Well, guarding the Fantasy Tree is our job," Shuten replied with a playful shrug, as if it were obvious.
"You brought me here yourself. Without you, I might never have found this place."
"Araa, you're mad about that?"
Shuten tilted her head, smiling mischievously.
"Well, I was curious, you see. I wanted to know what kind of face you'd make when you saw the tree. And you didn't disappoint me! My job's to stop people from touching it—no one said they couldn't look."
"…I see. I understand now."
Seimei's presence darkened—becoming denser, more focused.
"So this rebellious oni is the one chosen to guard the Fantasy Tree… I am lucky."
"Oh? Getting serious now? Gonna try to kill us? So scary~"
Shuten grinned, turning to Ibaraki.
"Oi, Ibaraki, it's go time. Don't you dare embarrass me. And try not to scream too pathetically when you die."
"But my chest still has a hole in it from earlier! If we were just gonna fight anyway, why the hell did you waste so much time talking…?! Whatever! Burn to ash beneath my claws!"
Flames exploded around Ibaraki, roaring like an enraged dragon.
Wine surged around Shuten, its sweetness laced with death, filling the air with the scent of obliteration.
"Shuten-dōji, Ibaraki-dōji… You may never live to see my new world, but I must thank you. Without you, my utopia would still be out of reach."
Even as waves of killing intent surged toward him, Seimei stood unfazed.
"I will devour you!"
"Run wild, Sōgen-bi!"
"[Great Grudge of Rashomon]!"
"It would please me if you died..."
"[Multicolored Poison - Shinpen Kidoku]."
Flames roared.
Poisoned wine poured.
Facing their combined assault, Seimei simply raised his hand.
His lips moved, quietly.
"…Your existence has brought me joy. I may never forget you."
---
Noodle Shop.
A totally ordinary ramen place. The kind where the food's so unremarkable, you can't even remember the name afterward.
Ashiya Douman, dressed in his usual strange robes, rested his elbow on the table. His eyes, long closed, now opened—gleaming like polished obsidian.
"Mmmm… MmmMMmmm! How terrible! How tragic! I've lost two more dependable shikigami… For someone as upright, kind, and willing to die for his friends as I am, clearly I must avenge them! Skin the murderer! Rip out their guts! Or maybe draw and quarter them? Flay them alive? Thousand cuts? MmmMMM! It's so hard to choose… Let's do all of them! Start with quartering, then flay, then a thousand cuts—perfect!"
"Um… Mr. Limbo?"
A girl's voice called out hesitantly from behind.
The moment he turned, Douman wore a warm, pleasant smile, gazing cheerfully at the girl.
"Ohhh! You're done eating already? Did you get enough, Miss Yura?"
---
T/N: oooh they were just shikigamiii
"Well, this is it—the last of my compulsory notes."
"One final time: if you want to squeeze extra chapters from this poor soul, every 100 Powerstones pried from your hands equals one bonus release. 100 = 1, 200 = 2, 300 = 3… as predictable as it is mercenary."
"And if you're inclined to dig deeper, there's still that Patreon: patreon.com/wisetl. Legally, it's "voluntary support." Practically, it's your shortcut to reading ahead."
"That's all from me. Angelica Ainsworth, signing off—finally free of this gig. Don't think I'll miss it."