At this moment, Kamishiro Isshin's expression darkened as he looked at the others cowering inside his formation, contributing absolutely nothing.
Earlier, he had felt that Ren Kuroda's words were a little too harsh. But now, it was clear—these people really were beyond reason.
Kujō Hinano was one thing. She had come purely as rear support to begin with, and her spiritual power was only C-rank. In a one-on-one fight, she might have had a chance against a C-rank yokai, but the monsters outside were far too overwhelming. Hinano wasn't an anomaly like Ren or Yamato Kyoka—one misstep and she could easily be killed. On top of that, she was a junior member of their group. Looking after a young girl like her was only natural.
But the others hiding inside Kamishiro Isshin's formation, refusing to fight no matter what—that was another matter entirely.
Ren had already warned them of the danger. They hadn't listened. And now, at a moment where life and death hung in the balance, they still refused to repent.
Even Hinano, with only C-rank spiritual power, was thinking about fighting. Yet these people—many of whom were already B-rank—were so paralyzed by fear that they were nothing but dead weight.
"What kind of nonsense are you spouting?" someone snapped back. "There are yokai packed out there like ants! Didn't you see the guys outside earlier? They got eaten so clean there wasn't even a scrap left!"
"You want us to go out there now and fight that many yokai? That's just sending us to our deaths!"
Faced with Kamishiro Isshin's accusation, the people hiding in the formation didn't care in the slightest. As long as they could cling to life, who cared about dignity?
Compared to staying alive, being shameless was nothing.
They had already made up their minds—survive as long as possible. With the fighting this intense, reinforcements were bound to arrive sooner or later. When the time came, they'd seize the chance and run.
"In that case," Kamishiro Isshin said coldly, "don't blame me. If we fight together, we still have a slim chance of survival."
"But carrying people like you—who don't have even a shred of fighting spirit—will only burden me and my companions. So… my apologies."
At first, those hiding in the formation wanted to sneer at him. They weren't going out anyway—what could he possibly do to them?
But very quickly, their expressions twisted into panic.
Because they realized that the formation beneath their feet—the one protecting them—was shrinking at a speed visible to the naked eye.
In just moments, the once massive formation contracted until it was only large enough to shield Kamishiro Isshin and Kujō Hinano.
As for those who had stubbornly refused to fight, they were now completely exposed—standing naked before the gazes of countless yokai.
"You seem to be mistaken about something," Kamishiro Isshin said calmly. "I'm the one who set this barrier. As a talisman and formation specialist, I naturally have full control over it."
"I protected everyone before because I wanted to preserve our combat strength. But from what I can see, you won't become combat strength at all—you'll only become a burden."
"And to keep my companions from shouldering unnecessary weight, this is the only choice I have."
The people outside the formation wailed and begged, but Kamishiro Isshin's eyes were colder than ice.
If the people here were innocent civilians caught up in this disaster, he would have protected them even at the cost of his life.
But everyone who came to this snow mountain did so with a purpose.
Ren had already explained the risks to them. Their current predicament was the result of their own greed.
Even that could have been overlooked—after all, the Countermeasures Group itself had come for Spirit Power Crystals as well.
But at a moment like this, these people still chose to save their own skins and let their companions risk their lives to protect them.
That was something Kamishiro Isshin could not tolerate.
Those who possess power yet refuse to resist—people like that might survive here today, but they would die somewhere else sooner or later.
Amid the hundreds-strong yokai horde, Ren Kuroda and Yamato Kyoka were like two unsheathed blades, forcibly tearing open the encirclement and plunging into a frenzy of slaughter.
However, the yokai gathered here were no pushovers. Even the weakest among them were C-rank, with plenty of B-rank monsters mixed in.
Facing such an army, even Ren and Kyoka couldn't treat them like disposable fodder and cut them down one by one with effortless kills.
On one hand, these yokai were genuinely strong. On the other, yokai possessed terrifying vitality—missing limbs meant nothing. As long as the wound wasn't fatal, they could rejoin the fight in no time.
And as casualties on their side continued to mount, the pressure on Kamishiro Isshin and the others only grew heavier.
It was true—Kamishiro Isshin and Monk Hakuba were both seasoned veterans, far more capable than ordinary exorcists, and they were currently benefiting from multiple blessings cast by Yamato Kyoka.
But even so… numbers like this were simply insane.
Each of them was facing hundreds of yokai—and these weren't weaklings. Who the hell could endure that?
Compared to Ren and Kyoka, Kamishiro Isshin and Monk Hakuba weren't even thinking about counterattacking anymore. Just staying alive was taking everything they had.
The battle had lasted less than a few minutes when nearly all of the cowards on their side had already been torn apart and devoured.
Behind Monk Hakuba, the two Vajra Guardians—once radiant with golden light—had dimmed significantly, their massive forms steadily shrinking.
Even Hakuba himself, bathed in fading golden radiance, was beginning to gasp for breath.
Kamishiro Isshin wasn't doing much better. He had prepared a large number of talismans before coming to the mountain, but the rate of consumption was far too high—he was reaching his limit.
When Yamato Kyoka noticed her companions' worsening situation and tried to break through to support them, she was intercepted by Shokuhatsuki, who had been observing the battle from the sidelines.
And when he saw Kyoka's jet-black hair cascading like a waterfall, he openly declared that it would soon become his prized addition to his collection.
As for Ren Kuroda—he had originally planned to keep holding back.
His idea had been to use the exorcist families of the Tokyo sector to wipe out Shokuhatsuki and the other traitors, weakening Tokyo's exorcist forces while conveniently removing unwanted elements.
But plans rarely survived reality.
Those exorcist families were shrewd as hell. Even tempted by Spirit Power Crystals, they chose to let others scout the way first.
And in the end, the ones who charged in first… were Ren and his group.
Monk Hakuba's situation was now critical.
The two Vajra Guardians had completely lost their light. Hakuba swung his prayer beads, knocking back yokai that came too close—but more immediately replaced them.
Just as he was about to be overwhelmed and swallowed by the horde, Ren stopped holding back.
He erupted with his full spiritual power.
In his right hand, Divine Grace cleaved downward—
Invasive Fire · Greedy Wolf.
A raging inferno surged forth, instantly incinerating every yokai in a straight line before him into ash.
As Ren prepared to charge down the path he had carved toward Monk Hakuba, a massive figure suddenly dropped in front of him.
"So you're an exorcist who specializes in flames," the figure rumbled. "But meeting me—Haibōzu—can only be called bad luck."
"I possess a natural resistance to fire. Flames cannot harm me—on the contrary, they become my power."
"Your spiritual energy is strong, and you're so young. You must be one of those so-called human prodigy exorcists. I imagine your flesh will be especially delicious."
Standing before Ren was a colossal yokai, its body like a swirling mass of black smoke.
Within the gray haze, two red eyes glowed faintly. Though no mouth was visible, a deep, oppressive voice resonated from the smoke itself.
The moment Haibōzu appeared, the yokai Ren had just burned to charcoal were swept up by a demonic gust. Their blackened remains gathered into a dense cloud and instantly enveloped Ren.
The charcoal dust blotted out the sky. As it surged toward him, it disrupted the flow of spiritual energy in the air. Flecks of red sparks began to glow within the black storm, the whole mass gradually transforming midair—like wildfire spreading—into a crimson sandstorm of terrifying beauty.
Look closely, and it became clear that this was no real sandstorm.
It was made of countless tiny charcoal fragments, burned red-hot.
Everyone knew that glowing charcoal burned hotter than open flame.
When this blazing crimson storm swept forward, the surrounding snow melted and vaporized almost instantly under the extreme heat.
"If I had to create this much charcoal myself, it would be possible," Haibōzu said smugly, "but it would consume a great deal of my demonic power."
"So I should thank you for killing those useless fools. Now I can recycle them."
"Exorcists draw on the Five Elements' spiritual energy from the air to use their techniques. My charcoal dust disrupts the flow of that energy."
"Go on—taste what it feels like to be wrapped in burning embers. This is the fate of one who plays with fire and gets burned."
The high-temperature crimson storm hadn't even reached Ren yet, but Haibōzu already wore an expression of absolute confidence.
When spiritual power and demonic power were at the same level, yokai naturally held an advantage over exorcists. And Haibōzu's ability wasn't just powerful—it made perfect use of the environment.
He had every reason to be arrogant.
Unfortunately for him, the exorcist he faced was no ordinary A-rank talent.
As the crimson storm surged forward, Ren continued his high-speed advance. His right hand wielded Divine Grace, cutting down every yokai that blocked his path.
At the same time, his left hand reached back—
And closed around the hilt of his second sword.