Through a heavy, almost suffocating silence, a strange figure burst onto the battlefield—a man in bizarre, flowing robes.
Ashiya Douman—had arrived.
"Limbo-san!"
Nura Rikuo blurted out the name instinctively.
Meanwhile, Abe no Seimei's eyes were locked on Douman, his gaze flickering with a depth of emotion impossible to read.
The instant Ashiya Douman appeared, standing at odds with Abe no Seimei from across the field, the atmosphere thickened palpably, as though the strings of fate—silent for so long—had been plucked once more. The fire of karmic destiny blazed up anew, ancient mire churning beneath the surface.
Yin and yang... in that moment, achieved a precarious balance.
"Sorry, Rikuo. I'm afraid I'll have to steal your prey. I'd like you to withdraw now—leave that one to me."
"…No way!"
Rikuo hesitated only a moment before refusing Douman's offer outright. "The burden I carry now isn't just my own. I want to show Abe no Seimei… that a world where humans and yōkai stand together is possible! I want to sever, once and for all, the fate binding the Nura Clan to Nue through three generations! I want to make him pay—completely—for everything he's done!"
His body battered and bloodied, but his will, his soul, had not dulled in the slightest.
Just what kind of crushing responsibility was he bearing, on those seemingly fragile shoulders?
But—
"Hmm, hmm, hmm… Your resolve really shines, Rikuo. If I didn't squint, I might be blinded by how dazzling it is… Hmm hmm… hehehe. But, you see, but—"
Laughter seeped out from the abyss of malice.
A hand, with black-green nails, pressed down on Rikuo's shoulder as he tried to stand. A pitch-black silhouette at his side leaned in, words heavy with pure malice:
"This isn't a negotiation, Rikuo. It's a notice. The fight with Seimei? That's no longer your stage."
Malice, like shackles binding his limbs, like a mire swallowing his body—no matter how Rikuo struggled, he only sank deeper.
"Limbo… you—?!"
"For your tenacious resolve, I offer my admiration and respect. Believe me, for once—these words are not a lie. I admire your will, as dazzling and unbreakable as a diamond honed to perfection. With that sort of will, you could've become the true protagonist here—defeated Abe no Seimei, the villain… if I weren't here on this stage."
"You mentioned 'fate,' didn't you? Hmm hmm hmm! I love that word. It's like a trash bin—no matter how heinous the sin, how unforgivable the crime, you can shove all the blame onto fate. Just like a powerless god—if a god were truly omnipotent and omniscient, wouldn't all the evils of humanity be done with his permission too? Heh heh… hahahahaha!"
"But! Hmm, hmm, hmmmm… Fate… fate! If we're talking fate, then isn't it all about me? Isn't it always about me? You and your Nura Clan are only entangled with Abe no Seimei because of the Hagoromo-Gitsune. But when it comes to Seimei's true adversary—it could only be me, right? Seimei… Seimei! Seimei—! Only this, only this, only this…!"
Malice seeped into the air.
Profound, filthy, chilling, revolting malice—filling the air so that breathing it scorched the lungs and froze the marrow, human or yōkai alike.
Even Abe no Seimei's face flickered with unease—because here was a presence far more twisted, more rotten, more defiled than any yōkai or even the very pits of hell.
It was like all the malice of humanity, gathered into an ocean—what settled at the bottom, that was Douman: the filthiest evil sunk to the depths.
This… was the one thing Abe no Seimei could never allow in the new world he wished to create.
"You… what the hell are you?" Seimei finally demanded.
Ashiya Douman laughed, as though hearing a delicious joke at last, as though he'd been waiting forever for that very question.
"Fufu! Hehehe… Who am I, you ask? You're asking who I am, aren't you? Hmm hmm… hahahaha!"
That malicious laughter shook the air, the piercing mockery making Seimei more irritable, more uneasy, more enraged with every moment.
"What's so funny?!"
"Hmm… hmmmm… Seimei, Seimei! You still don't recognize me? How can that be? I recognized you at a single glance… still so arrogant, still the same bastard, wherever and whenever…"
He knows me…
Yet Abe no Seimei had no recollection at all.
Still, there was something eerily familiar about him.
Suddenly, Seimei's pupils contracted.
No, this isn't just familiarity… This is—?!
"You see it, don't you, Seimei?"
With a manic gesture, Douman spread his arms wide, voice trembling with intensity. "That fate connecting you and me—a karmic bond that's endured through space and time!"
The ground trembled. The sky howled.
The Fantasy Tree boomed with resonance, roused by the storm of Seimei's fury.
One syllable at a time, Seimei dredged up the name from deep, ancient memory.
"Ashi——ya——Dou——man——!!"
"Haha! Hahahaha! The look on your face right now, Seimei—absolutely delicious! Exquisite! Delightful! I'm overjoyed!"
A rictus grin split Douman's face.
The battlefield fell silent, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
"Ashiya Douman… That name—?"
"A thousand years ago, wasn't he a contemporary of Abe no Seimei?"
"The very same Douman who always appeared as Seimei's nemesis?"
What started as hushed muttering rippled into heated discussion—Douman's reputation too infamous to ignore.
In Uji Shūi Monogatari, Mineaki-ki, The Tale of Abe no Seimei, and countless other records, Ashiya Douman always appeared as Seimei's rival. When Seimei allied with Fujiwara no Michinaga, Douman sided with Michinaga's rival, Fujiwara no Akimitsu, causing endless trouble for both Seimei and Michinaga.
Because Seimei was cast as the shining paragon of virtue in these tales, Douman inevitably became the "evil onmyōji" in the public's mind.
Yet across Japan, you could still find "Ashiya Mound," "Douman Tomb," and "Douman Well"—proof that the supposed villain's legend was revered even now.
Nura Rikuo, hearing Seimei cry out "Ashiya Douman," was stunned—not by the man's exploits, but by something else entirely—
Ashiya Douman… isn't that Keikain Yura's family ancestor?
He remembered, back in Kyoto, Keikain Seimei himself had said that the Keikain family were Douman's descendants, locked in struggle against the Hagoromo-Gitsune and Nue for generations.
So… Yura's ancestor, that thousand-year-old monster… not only ended up in my house, but spent all this time wearing my mom's face?
That's… just too weird… better look again.
"Ashiya Douman! You bastard—are you here to interfere with me again?!"
Abe no Seimei's furious voice echoed across the field.
Even in this world, Ashiya Douman was the only onmyōji from the Heian era who could match Seimei.
Though his appearance was nothing like Seimei's memory, the bond of destiny left no doubt.
"No… no, no, no, no!"
Suddenly, Seimei was visibly shaken, as if faced with something utterly inconceivable. He demanded in a shout, "Ashiya Douman! Did you also use the art of reincarnation?!"
A thousand years had passed—why was Douman still alive?
Seimei assumed Douman, like himself, had used a perfect art of rebirth… except Seimei had been reborn by having the Hagoromo-Gitsune birth him again, achieving a flawless cycle. Douman clearly hadn't used the same method.
Why…?
"Heh heh… hahahahaha! You really are a clown, Seimei—you've made me laugh so hard my sides hurt!"
After mocking Seimei to his heart's content, Douman's crazed laughter subsided. He smiled, almost kindly, and said,
"A perfect reincarnation technique? That's the funniest thing I've ever heard. To simulate samsara, to have your own mother birth you again as 'Abe no Seimei'—what a wild fantasy! Truly a clown's trick worthy of a few laughs—'perfect,' indeed."
"A clown's trick, you say?!"
The supreme technique Seimei had invented—returning from hell to the mortal world, transcending yōkai and humanity to become a god—had just been dismissed as a clown's trick?!
Seimei's expression darkened, power radiating in waves that threatened to crush Douman, but Douman ignored it all.
"Heh heh heh! Hahahaha! I've waited so long, endured so much, just to see that look on your face, Seimei!"
Douman's grin turned maniacal. "What I've attained goes far beyond you, Seimei!"
"Watch closely! Bear witness! I will show you the ultimate culmination of this path—an existence overflowing with malice, devouring despair, embracing madness, and holding terror—a being beyond man, beast, or god! The supreme form that defies all reason!"
Corrupt malice cloaked Douman.
All around him, shadows gathered—each one a pure avatar of evil, ready to drown the world in their mire.
Douman sat amidst the host of shadows, clad in a robe blacker and more ominous than night itself, crowned with a dark sun, exuding an oppressive, overwhelming power.
In that moment, Douman looked every inch the monarch of evil—devouring, preaching, spreading, and ruling over all malice.
"With your limited perspective, you must not recognize these figures, do you?"
Douman's smile almost looked gentle, but the desire to show off burned in his heart. With feigned generosity, he said, "Well, since it's a rare occasion, allow me to introduce them."
"To my right stands the obsidian butterfly goddess of Aztec myth—the patron of mothers and children, mistress of death and purification, war and fire—Itzpapalotl."
"To my left, the black god of Slavic myth—Chernobog, ruler of night, darkness, blindness, death, and all manner of calamity."
Douman's words drew a marked reaction from Seimei.
"Gods… you say?"
"That's right. As you see, I had the honor of meeting deities from distant lands—not yōkai or onmyōji, but genuine gods wielding true authority… and just like popping a candy into my mouth, I devoured them both."
Slowly, Douman raised his hand. In response, the two massive shadows on either side turned to face Seimei.
Their gaze became a curse upon all life on earth. The instant their eyes met his, Seimei staggered back two steps, black mist coiling around him, gnawing at his vitality.
"With these two gods added to my being, I am now—an ultimate lifeform surpassing man, god, and beast! In other words… Rasetsu King, Skull-Eboshi Ashiya Douman!"
By now, Rikuo had already retreated from Douman's side, back to the hole in the wall blasted out by the fighting, the other yōkai gathering close around him.
There was no other choice. The hellish gaki who'd failed to retreat fast enough were caught in the tide of Douman's evil—instantly rotting, dissolving, swallowed by black sludge and fed to those monstrous gods.
"You don't get it, do you? You, who've lived your whole life confined to this country, as ignorant as a frog in a well—you can't possibly fathom the power of the gods, or the greatness of someone like me!"
"The reincarnation art you're so proud of is, to me, not even worth bending down to pick up off the ground—a coin covered in flaws, a failed experiment! I've glimpsed a vaster world! Now, at this very moment, I will end your so-called ideals as the victor!"
"Laugh, spirits and gods! Shine, sun! I am Rasetsu King, Skull-Eboshi Ashiya Douman! My pleasure, my laughter, will crush your path forward right here!"
Malice surged, a roaring tide of darkness.
And yet, beneath that crashing wave of evil, Seimei's slight figure—supported by the Fantasy Tree—exploded with earth-shaking power.
"[Eternal Samsara]!"
A black sphere, formed by mimicking a black hole with human art, twisting even space and time—its annihilating force enough to obliterate even the churning sea of evil.
"You won't succeed, Ashiya Douman!"
With the Fantasy Tree's power flowing endlessly into him, even in the face of Douman—now devourer of gods—Seimei's confidence did not waver.
"I will never, ever let you ruin my great work again! The one who's truly finished—Ashiya Douman—is you! This world… will know eternal order and beauty by my hand alone!"
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T/N: Eboshi: a traditional Japanese court cap, here referencing Douman's iconic "skull eboshi" title.