It didn't matter if they were from Yamato or Izumo, god or youkai or Oni. It even included the youkai who had belonged to Tamamo-no-Mae and had used every ounce of their strength to approach her at the final moment. They all died here. Same time, same place, same manner of death.
Even the pain of tearing open their own chests could not wake them. Even until they died from blood loss, they were still smiling—a satisfied smile of a wish fulfilled, with not a trace of regret.
Like rows of statues at a pilgrimage. It was a terrifyingly sinister scene, yet it bizarrely radiated a holy aura. The mere sight of it chilled the youkai who were lucky enough to be on the periphery, causing them to let out cries of terror.
They couldn't help but be afraid. These beings who had died so wretchedly had been vibrant lives shouting battle cries mere breaths ago. Now they were kneeling on the ground, the intestines spilling from their abdomens already connected into a single mass.
No one had expected this. No one had expected the radiance falling from the heavens to become the chain that took the Nine-Tails' life. It all happened too fast—fast enough that Sū ěr was left staring with his mouth wide open, unable to react.
Was it Amaterasu? Was it Amaterasu who killed... the Nine-Tails?
Everyone immediately looked up at the sun in the sky. Yet the sun was still the sun, without any further change. But no one could forget what had just happened.
Or was it not Amaterasu? Was it a descendant of Amaterasu in Ashihara no Nakatsukuni?
The Nine-Tails was killed by the Kusanagi, and the sword-light had come from the West, from Yamato. The sword had dodged Tamamo-no-Mae's attempt to bite the hilt and had pierced her from below, straight through the heart, thoroughly severing the last spark of life from the fox of light.
So who was it standing in the center of those countless corpses, being worshiped by them?
the beautiful fox that should have been like jade had turned to a lightless black. This wasn't a simple transformation. Every point of light that had drifted away like a sea of fireflies had taken a part of the existence known as Tamamo-no-Mae with it, and what filled the void was the black mist seeping from the earth.
So... was it Yomi?
For Sū ěr and Think, travelers from outside this world, everything was connected. They could only see the surface, unable to know the inner secrets.
The black fox stood in the center of the battlefield, while her shadow took human form. Currently, she was tilting her head back and spreading her arms as if in ecstasy, deeply enjoying the spectacle before her.
At the moment of her birth, she proudly declared her name to the world. This youkai who had appeared on the corpse of the Nine-Tails also called herself Tamamo-no-Mae, but Sū ěr could not link her indiscriminate, brutal methods with the gentle and kind fox from before.
He couldn't accept it, but so what if he didn't?
Even Sū ěr knew that the youkai over there was indeed Tamamo-no-Mae, or at least a part of her.
This change that upended the entire battlefield had happened in an instant. Like the other gods and youkai, Sū ěr had assumed the Kusanagi was there to help the Nine-Tails, so he hadn't even had the chance to decide whether to follow her wishes and watch her die before the tragedy struck.
The jade fox had indeed foreseen her death, but Sū ěr was absolutely certain that the death she had planned for herself did not include ending in such a way. No one could ignore the complex emotions she had shown in the final seconds of her life—a confusion filled with incredulity.
If this new Tamamo-no-Mae was born using the lives of gods and youkai as sacrifices, and their wretched deaths were her venting of hatred for her own fate, there were still two lives that survived in this corner of death: Hoderi and Takeminakata.
Their survival was no accident, nor was it because they were too powerful. Even they knew they hadn't died because the fox had specifically spared them... The black giant fox said nothing; from a moment ago, it was her shadow that had been talking. Was this truly still the Nine-Tailed Fox?
Seeing that light-blocking black shadow finally retract its arms in satisfaction and turn to watch them, Takeminakata could see no specific expression in the darkness. He was terrified to the limit, not even noticing that his legs were shaking incessantly.
He was likely going to die.
He suddenly remembered the horror stories he had heard in the arms of his father, Okuninushi, when he was just an infant. Takeminakata wanted to turn and run as fast as possible, but he was afraid that the moment he turned his back, his head would be bitten off.
Right, Hoderi. There's still Hoderi! His sluggish brain finally remembered he wasn't alone. Takeminakata stiffly turned his neck to look at the strong Oni. He seemed to hear his own neck creaking.
The one-horned Oni wasn't even looking at the black shadow calling itself Tamamo-no-Mae. He was just blankly staring at the sea of corpses. Oni of all sizes, male and female, of all ages—their faces still held the fanaticism and ecstasy of their final moments, the determination to offer themselves up.
These were expressions that should never have appeared on the faces of his arrogant Oni. They were all dead. Every one of them.
His strong legs slowly buckled. In the next moment, Hoderi knelt down blankly, using both hands to support himself from collapsing. Had he not, he too would have been buried in the soil like the other corpses—those arrogant Oni who had refused to obey even his father, the Tenson, had offered up their lives for a youkai they were seeing for the first time.
They had waited so many years to finally gain the right to walk upon the surface, yet they had barely enjoyed the beautiful sunlight and fresh air before marching toward death. Hoderi was in agony, grieving for these Oni who had followed him.
These were the Oni who trusted him most, and whom he trusted most. Now, after the birth of this pure-black Nine-Tails, not even one in ten remained.