Although Lucan knew how powerful Sesshōin Kiara was, and how terrifying her Mystery specification — even if she weren't a "Beast," there were only a very few in the modern age who could match the nearly two thousand years' worth of Mystery she carried — he nonetheless felt the oddness of the moment.
Such an existence simply did not belong on the soil of modern Far East. The probability of such a monster appearing in Kyoto Prefecture was vanishingly small.
But "small" did not mean "impossible."
Lucan knew this very well… because his arrival had made Kyoto, that thousand-year-old city, into the eye of a storm. It would not be an exaggeration to call it a vortex.
So — this woman had declared war that morning. And now she was on this very train. What on earth was going on?
Sesshōin Kiara did not move; she only lowered her eyes and smiled, still "merciful" and still "alluring" —
"War? That level of thing — how can you call it war?" she purred. "It's nothing but a child's sandbox game, my Master…"
"So you've already finished it?" Lucan raised a brow. He watched the pressure she pressed against him and, as always, enjoyed it naturally — he didn't seek it out, but he didn't refuse it either. He had plenty of real-world experience and even more simulated experience. He enjoyed these kinds of natural, accidental encounters in reality as well.
"They didn't even get a chance to let me 'shine'!" Kiara bent close to his ear; the brim of her cap shadowed her red lips as they brushed his skin. Her ample thigh slipped a little from the stocking's edge with the motion and made a soft, whispering, frictional sound.
Lucan thought to himself, is that how "shine" is used? Yet seeing her horned, "Heavenly Fiend" aspect in his memory, he felt the word oddly fitting.
She claimed she'd end the conflict within half a day…
"Looks like even Seimei's system of Mysteries has withered over the years," Kiara continued. The Divine-Organ Forging — using fragments left by the gods themselves as the source of Mystery — could in the Heian era produce practitioners approaching deity-tier. They could become great onmyōji, the kind whom the western magecraft community would rank above ordinary mages, perhaps to a monarchical tier able to perform grand thaumaturgy single-handedly.
If you extrapolated from that, the ancient Shintō confraternities who practiced Divine-Organ Forging — the so-called Six Houses — should have fielded six great thaumaturges. Sesshōin Kiara, with her force, could of course crush them; but not so easily, and not without showing her true form. She shouldn't be able to do it with nothing but the guise of a nun.
Yet this was the natural consequence. After the meteor-soldiers came and the Age of Gods vanished, Mystery had drained away. Centuries of upheaval meant even the brightest genius could not hold onto primordial potency forever — not even Solomon could. The original foundational systems Solomon left behind had faded; many lineages that relied on those ancient formulas had already been lost to history. What remained in the present was largely innovation by later generations.
Clearly, the Far East lacked that culture of scholastic renewal — the dedicated academic environment like the Clocktower's Research Halls that specialized in advancing magecraft.
Kiara — as if whispering in his ear — merely outlined the course of events with breezy simplicity. In truth, there wasn't much "process" to it. She had issued her challenge; the various sects had rushed to cooperate; she had crushed them like dry twigs with a few simple seals. She didn't even need to reveal her true body — dressed as a nun alone she had cut down the elite the Six Houses had dispatched.
She even had time to change into that uniform and "tempt" her Master.
Lucan's thought was straightforward: pitiful. The methods of a "Heavenly Fiend" were never gentle — perhaps those people had all been "delivered" already?
"So are you planning to speak to me forever in this posture?" Lucan asked, amused but composed. He wasn't hostile; he simply wanted her to move a little closer or else step away.
"If you don't dare to advance your seduction—then step down," he said, annoyed at the limbo of the situation.
"I'm afraid if I advance, I'll fall into an endless abyss," Kiara answered with a coy little wag, then added, "After all— I sense, Master, you've grown stronger."
Clad in the stewardess uniform, she sat back on the offered seat, legs neatly closed, the skirt clinging; subtle tremors gave the fabric life, and though a smile played on her lips, her eyes were filled with awe — and a trace of reverence.
Indeed. A few days apart had made a difference. In only that short absence the boy before her had become deeper, more inscrutable — as if he'd returned from another life's splendour. She felt his rising depth; she felt the change.
So although desire welled within her, she dared not press further. She longed to "deliver" souls, yet feared being drawn into an even deeper corruption of the mind.
Lucan snorted. "Coward."
"…"
Kiara smiled, arching an eyebrow. "You're the only one who speaks to me like that… aside from you, no one dares."
"Then rise to the moment — if you're not, then come on." Lucan's expression sharpened.
Sesshōin Kiara fell silent. Lucan looked at the woman who could properly be called a marvel and grinned with satisfaction. No matter how many simulations had displayed the essence of souls, no matter how much he practiced natural control, the in-between left him dissatisfied. Strength and status aside, Lucan preserved a dense core of humanity. He was still a common man.
"All right, sit," he said, pointing to the opposite seat. "You said you've handled the Six Houses. Tell me—what is Kyoto like right now?"
"Let me brief you on that, O Heavenly Fiend," he said, offering her a ladder to step down from.
Without a thousand-mile Eye to gaze upon every corner of the world, one must rely on networks and forces. Kiara accepted the offered seat, adjusting the hem of the black stockings so that the skirt drew a taut, ripe silhouette.
"This is the report I wanted to give, Master," she said, smile unchanged. "Kyoto — we have suspected 'Ancestor'-class Dead Apostles (Shito) active."
"And likely not just one."
"Multiple."
"Multiple… 'Ancestors'?" Lucan murmured.
"Seems those bastards really followed along after you," he said, unsurprised. "No sense whatsoever —"
"The Ancestors of that Age-of-Gods Alliance!" Kiara finished.