Ashiya Douman—a legendary onmyōji from the Heian era. Although he lost more than he won in his duels with Abe no Seimei, no one ever underestimated him. He was always seen as the second greatest onmyōji, right behind Seimei.
He was also the founding ancestor of the Keikain clan. The grudge between the Keikain and Mikado-in families began with Ashiya Douman and Abe no Seimei.
"You liar! Still spouting nonsense and stirring up trouble!"
Keikain Ryuuji's attitude turned sharply hostile.
And really, who could blame him? If someone pointed to a monstrous, evil-looking villain and said, "That's your ancestor"—especially when said ancestor was a revered figure in your family, practically worshipped by generations—most people would've already punched the messenger in the face.
The part that Ryuuji couldn't accept wasn't that his ancestor had come back to life—after all, with Abe no Seimei running around after a thousand years, and having personally met past Keikain heads like Keikain Seimei, he could stomach someone suddenly claiming to be Ashiya Douman. But to say that this villain—someone who looked even more sinister than Seimei, who radiated such pure evil—was the legendary Douman of their clan? That was a different matter entirely.
And Ryuuji wasn't the only one. Every Keikain present now looked at Nura Rikuo with suspicion and undisguised hostility—honestly, it was a miracle Rikuo hadn't gotten stabbed in the back already, just for standing a little too close.
Feeling the prickly stares, Rikuo smacked his lips in resignation.
"The thing is… it's not just me saying it. Abe no Seimei himself called out Douman's name—and Limbo admitted it himself."
Worried his words might not be convincing enough, Rikuo dragged the others into it.
"Everyone here heard it too! Ask them if you don't believe me."
Ryuuji just snorted, utterly dismissive.
"Hmph! Who'd trust a yōkai's word? You're the boss of the yōkai—of course you could get them to back up any story you want."
Before Rikuo or his allies could protest, an earsplitting roar crashed down from above, so thunderous it made their bones and guts vibrate from the inside out. The fury and hysteria in that voice was impossible to ignore.
"Ashiya Douman! I'm going to kill you! I'll grind your body to dust and scatter you to the ends of the universe!"
"And you—you can only scream and howl like a stray dog robbed of its bone! Weak, helpless, pathetic! The more you flail, the more delightful you make it for me! Summon the gods and spirits—let's laugh at this mad, broken world! Fufufu… HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
A veil of pure starlight descended, while the polluted sea of black mud churned and swallowed the sky.
Sea of chaos and heavens of stars flipped upside down, lost and adrift, trapped in endless cycles of rise and fall.
Just glancing up at that inky sludge made people feel as if part of their life was being stolen—nausea and dizziness washing over them.
But that wasn't all. Everyone from the Keikain clan felt a deep sense of unreality, especially Ryuuji. His face burned as if he'd just been slapped—hard.
"So this is why you called me out again?"
A man with no legs hovered in midair, ghostlike.
Or maybe—he was a ghost.
This man was Keikain Seimei—the most brilliant head the Keikain family ever produced, the onmyōji who helped Nurarihyon defeat the Hagoromo-Gitsune.
He'd forged the demon-slaying blade that struck down the Hagoromo-Gitsune, established the barrier protecting all Kyoto, and created the seals that kept yōkai like Tsuchigumo locked away. Of all the past Keikain heads ever summoned as shikigami, only Seimei could manifest in human form; the others appeared as mere skulls—testament to Seimei's extraordinary strength.
"We're sorry, ancestor."
A Keikain onmyōji bowed deeply. "Forgive us for disturbing your rest for something so trivial, but we just couldn't ignore this matter…"
"No, no, don't worry. I know I said not to wake me up just for nothing, but this is far too interesting. I don't mind at all!"
With a sunny smile, Keikain Seimei looked nothing like a centuries-old patriarch—no trace of the gravitas or strictness one might expect.
He was nothing like his somber, old-fashioned brothers—always this playful, irreverent presence.
"But honestly, you won't get much of an answer out of me."
Smiling slyly, he shrugged. "I'm just the thirteenth head of the Keikain clan. Douman lived six centuries before my time—how would I know anything about him? You'd have to ask one of the earlier heads… though good luck with that."
He glanced over the group, then changed tack.
"Still… do you even need confirmation?"
Seimei gazed up at the raging battle in the sky, voice light. "If someone like Abe no Seimei himself, the greatest onmyōji of the Heian era, calls him Ashiya Douman… what more proof do you need?"
Everyone from the Keikain clan fell silent, exchanging uncertain glances, each face reflecting a tangle of conflicted emotions.
"That's right. Deep down, you all know it's true. But… it's hard to accept, isn't it? The person you've admired all your lives, the peer of Seimei himself—coming back to life in a form like that…"
Seimei's sharp insight laid their anxieties bare.
On the battlefield above, Seimei had been pushed into a corner. The Fantasy Tree, once glowing with the light of stars, was now scarred and cracked—its branches twined with countless flames of curses.
"What a joke! What a sick joke! Dammit! My ideals, my hopes—they are the future of this world! I'm the one chosen by fate to win!"
Abe no Seimei raged, veins bulging, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps.
I won't accept this! I'm so close—so close to achieving my dream. How could I fail at the last step?!
Shielded by the Fantasy Tree, Seimei glanced down at the group of Nura Rikuo and the Keikain onmyōji, the fire of anger nearly consuming his mind.
Not enough… the energy inside the Fantasy Tree isn't enough… If my Fantasy Tree blooms for real, no Douman or foreign god could stand in my way!
I have to… I must find a way to make it grow faster!
As that thought struck him, he noticed more Keikain onmyōji and yōkai gathering below, having overcome the Mikado-in's resistance to join Rikuo.
"Those useless fools!"
Seimei's fury boiled over; his chest heaved with each breath.
"To think, you carry the blood of Abe no Seimei, yet can't even handle such trivial tasks—can't stop a handful of gnats and rabble! What a waste of my lineage!"
As if venting his anger, Seimei pressed a hand toward the void. Instantly, the Fantasy Tree behind him unleashed beams of starry light—a barrage of overwhelming artillery streaking straight toward Rikuo and the others.
Don't be fooled by how easily Douman handled these blasts earlier—each one carried enough power to annihilate a high-level yōkai ten times over. Even the shockwave would leave them badly wounded.
Panic erupted.
"Ahhh! They're coming right at us!"
"We're dead, we're dead! There's no way to dodge or block that! We're doomed!"
"Mama! I want my mom!"
"Uuu… I haven't even gotten married yet! I don't want to die!"
A few kept their cool and tried to organize a defense, but everyone knew—even if they all worked together, it was almost impossible to survive that kind of firepower.
"Hmm, hmm, hmmmmm! Really… pointless, useless, clueless, pathetic! Attacking a defenseless crowd—Seimei, you've really fallen far."
Suddenly, a flurry of strange talismans, each painted with a single staring eye, appeared from nowhere, weaving together in the air. As the star-cannons slammed into them, the barrage split apart like water hitting rocks. The talismans burned away, spent by the impact.
"We… we're alive?"
"What was that just now…?"
Most people were still stunned by their brush with death, but Rikuo and his group immediately spotted the sinister figure standing in the crowd.
"Limbo… no, Ashiya Douman!"
"Heheheheh! I'm quite pleased by your reactions—delightful, like sweet candy."
Douman smiled faintly. "Saving people isn't really my style as a great villain. But if it gets under Seimei's skin, that's another matter entirely. I find it utterly irresistible—can't help but laugh out loud."
It was Ashiya Douman, suddenly appearing among them.
His aura was so terrifying and malign that everyone instinctively moved away, leaving a wide circle around him, as if afraid to be burned.
Douman paid their fear no mind, his gaze fixed warmly on Rikuo.
"Aren't you supposed to be fighting Abe no Seimei?"
Rikuo looked up—the battlefield still raged overhead, and there was Douman, dressed in dark robes like a god of evil. Yet the Douman standing here looked just as he always had.
"Oh, that's just a shikigami, of course. Like what I did when we fought the Hyakki Yakō back in Tokyo. Hmhmhm… I'm quite confident in my shikigami arts. I can even trick death by having a shikigami take my place. Fufufu!"
Rikuo nodded, understanding.
Back when the Hyakki Yakō attacked Tokyo, their first encounter with Douman, he'd shown off incredible shikigami skills—sending countless spirits all over Tokyo to battle the Hyakki Yakō's yōkai. Without Douman's help, it was hard to imagine just how much damage that rampage could have caused.
Seimei, too, noticed Douman's shikigami shielding Rikuo and the others, and snapped out, "Even while fighting me, you have energy to spare to protect others? Gotten so cocky just because you're a little stronger now?"
"But I'm the one with the upper hand, Seimei."
Douman answered with a cruel smile. "That's the privilege of the strong. Just like you used to do to me!"
Deep black light split the heavens again, another round of bombardment smashing into the Fantasy Tree's trunk. The once-brilliant tree now grew dim, fading, like an ancient giant on the brink of decay.
Seimei watched, nearly grinding his teeth to dust.
He would never accept defeat—and so, he made a mad decision.
"Descendants of Abe no Seimei! If you're useless to me, then offer up everything you have to the perfect world I'm creating!"
A seven-pointed magic circle opened before Seimei. At that moment, every Mikado-in onmyōji felt their bodies change.
Their life force and spiritual power began pouring out of them, sucked up by Seimei and channeled into the Fantasy Tree.
"Se-Seimei-sama! Spare us!"
"No! I don't want to die!"
Some wailed, sobbing, unwilling to accept their fate or their ancestor's betrayal.
But many of the Mikado-in onmyōji embraced it.
"Hahaha! Our lord needs our strength!"
"To think my life, my power, could serve our lord—could be a cornerstone of the new world… what an honor!"
In a shadowed corner, Abe no Kippei, his body nearly split in two, leaned against a grave marker, struggling to keep one eye open.
"Kokoro-musubi… Kokoro-musubi, Orokuchi, Ten-kai, Taichū, Mizuhiruko…"
He recited name after name—Mikado-in clan heads, ordinary members, even those few cared about.
He was in the Mikado-in's graveyard. The tombstones surrounding him were all Mikado-in names.
He remembered every one—living or dead.
"Father…"
With the last of his strength, Kippei looked up at Seimei, his voice weak, lost.
"Is… is this really the world you wanted?"
And with that, Abe no Kippei's body turned to dust. All his life force, his thousand years of cultivated power, became nourishment for the Fantasy Tree.
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T/N: someone pleeeeeeease send me fanart of ashiya looking crazy as hell
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