"My lord…"
"My lord…"
Uraume's clothing was nothing like the simple garments of the villagers—anyone could tell at a glance that he wasn't one of them.
So whether adult or child, everyone greeted him respectfully.
He ignored them all, only scanning the crowd with his eyes, picking out a target—and in full view of everyone, he swiftly snatched the chosen person and disappeared from the village in a flash.
That was his chosen ingredient.
Thin slices of flesh were laid atop frost-covered ice blocks and carried to the pink-haired youth by Uraume.
"A child?" Fallen muttered after taking a bite.
He could tell the age and gender of his food just by texture alone.
The village, after losing a child, decided to seek help.
The only person they could think of who might help was a samurai living in the neighboring city.
So the villagers pooled what little they had, chose a representative, and sent them off to town with their blessings.
Along the way, they might encounter demons and yokai. It was entirely possible that their messenger would die en route.
The villagers knew this all too well. So they made two preparations.
After sending someone to seek aid, the remaining able-bodied men of the village armed themselves and set out together—determined to find the monster.
Fallen and Uraume's temporary resting place wasn't far from the village. It had once been the den of a yokai—but that yokai had the misfortune of meeting Fallen.
He was killed on the spot, his body turned into food. Fallen had even complained that he tasted bad while eating over half of him.
The cave was naturally claimed as their own.
Of course, they left traces behind.
And the villagers followed those traces right to the cave.
But when they arrived… Fallen and Uraume were long gone.
Only piles of bones remained within.
Some from the previous yokai, others from Fallen's more recent victims.
There, they found the clothing the kidnapped child had been wearing—and fragments of the child's bones.
In that moment, as they cradled the remains, hatred and fury filled their eyes.
But more than anything… a numbness born from familiarity.
Yokai roamed freely, and people disappeared often.
Not just children—even adults were taken.
This wasn't the first time it had happened.
---
Meanwhile, Fallen encountered a powerful yokai who had come looking for him.
A massive centipede yokai, its entire body black and shining with a metallic gleam, covered in hundreds of twitching legs.
"So you're Ryomen Sukuna? The so-called invincible demon god?"
"You don't look like much to me," the centipede yokai sneered, its many legs twitching in motion.
"…You won't be saying that for long," muttered the pink-haired boy, now far too lazy to correct anyone that he wasn't Ryomen Sukuna.
For some reason, all these yokai kept calling him that. Just like… that guy back at the shrine.
He was the first one to call him Ryomen Sukuna.
And Fallen had to admit… the description of the legendary Ryomen Sukuna really did match him quite well.
When he thought about that shrine… he felt no reason to reject the name.
After all, it was a famous demon god.
So why not use it?
Even if the real Ryomen Sukuna ever showed up—he'd just kill him. Then the name would still belong to him.
As he chopped the centipede yokai into hundreds of pieces, he was thinking exactly that.
---
A rumor began to spread—
A demon god with two faces and four arms, named Ryomen Sukuna, who feasted on human flesh.
And the rumor grew louder and louder.
Until it finally reached the capital.
---
"…That spread fast," Cyr muttered when he heard the rumor, while sitting in the shrine, contemplating the creation of his own Domain.
After flipping through the pile of memories in his mind, he gradually pieced together a faint idea.
"I still don't get it. What's the point of telling the yokai they ran into Ryomen Sukuna?" Koen asked, his face full of confusion.
Not long ago, after those two left the shrine, the shrine's master—a boy said to be the incarnation of Tsukuyomi—had given him a task: to spread some information among the yokai.
That information being, "We ran into a very powerful guy with two faces and four arms. He might be the demon god Ryomen Sukuna…" and so on.
"Because I don't like his current name," Cyr replied lazily.
Ryomen Sukuna just sounded better rolling off the tongue.
This way, the next time someone called him Ryomen Sukuna, he'd know they were talking about him.
Who wanted to call someone by such a painfully edgy real name?
"Now, the capital will probably send someone to investigate," said Gojo Haru as he stepped in through the door, waving his folding fan in that ever-graceful noble manner of his.
He had changed clothes—his new outfit closely resembled Cyr's hanfu, flowing and form-fitting.
It was a stark contrast to the bulky kariginu robes from before, which added two sizes to a person.
"Who do you think they'll send?" Cyr asked with a leisurely smile.
"Since it's a rumored demon god, they'll naturally send an onmyoji," Haru said with a grin.
"Then I'm afraid they won't be coming back." Cyr chuckled lightly.
"What if they send a sorcerer instead?" Haru asked.
"Same result." Cyr shook his head.
It was just a different kind of one-way trip.
"Do you think there's any difference in killing onmyoji and jujutsu sorcerers?" Cyr countered.
"…No, not really," Haru replied, fanning himself as he smiled.
Once your strength surpassed a certain level, it didn't matter if your enemies were yokai, sorcerers, or onmyoji—
Killing them was as easy as snapping a chicken's neck.
And just as they predicted, the news returned a week later.
The onmyoji sent to investigate had died.
Not a single message made it back.
The only reason Heian-kyō even realized he had died in a timely manner was thanks to the Onmyo Clan's methods.
They had something like a "life lamp"—the moment someone died, the object tied to their soul would burn to ash.
So the moment something happened, they knew the man was dead.
"Guess what the Emperor will do next?" Cyr asked Haru with amusement in his eyes.
"Have an onmyoji perform divination to seek auspicious guidance, then make a decision," Haru answered in a relaxed tone, completely unbothered.
Just like when Cyr had practically declared war on all of Heian-kyō—Haru had worn the same nonchalant expression.
"After that, they'll probably select people from different clans to form a task force and send them out to continue investigating," Haru continued.
He was all too familiar with the Emperor's patterns by now.
"Another group that won't return."
"How many people have to die before the Emperor finally realizes that in the face of absolute power, everything they do is just meaningless effort?" Cyr said softly.
"Just like what you did before."
"If he ends up like you, killing so many nobles—enough that even the Emperor himself fears him and dares not oppose him—then no one will bother investigating anymore," Haru said, closing his fan with a soft snap and tapping it against his palm.
"That day is coming soon," Cyr said, his tone calm.
In the manga's storyline, Sukuna had indeed done it.
He slaughtered so many people that the nobles, Emperor included, began to worship him as a god.
He made countless power-worshippers become his fanatic followers.
Just like Cyr now.
°°°
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