Several days after Butterfly had "left on a long journey," Hagoromo never personally witnessed the sacrifice.
Perhaps he had deliberately avoided the scene because he lacked the strength to face it. Or perhaps it was simply coincidence.
Holding on to the hope that Butterfly would return, he once again made his way to the village where they had first met—the place that had given him so much warmth and comfort.
Yet the moment he stepped into the village, he sensed that something was wrong.
The atmosphere was no longer one of cautious reverence or restrained gratitude.
Instead, it was colder.
Far more direct.
It was hatred.
When the villagers saw him, they no longer knelt from a distance. Instead, they turned away, hurried past him, or openly revealed the disgust and resentment in their eyes whenever his gaze swept over them.
Those looks were like icy needles, piercing straight through Hagoromo's heart.
He immediately misunderstood the source of their hostility.
He assumed that another sacrifice had recently taken someone from the village, and that the villagers, grieving the loss of their loved ones, had transferred their anger onto him—the "Divine Prince," the living symbol of the cruel ritual.
The familiar feelings of helplessness and guilt welled up inside him.
Stopping in his tracks, Hagoromo faced the villagers, whether they avoided him or glared at him, and spoke with heartfelt remorse.
"Everyone... I'm sorry."
"I know the sacrifices are cruel. I know how much pain they cause."
"...Right now, I still can't change any of this."
"But I promise you—I will find a way. One day, I'll stop this from ever happening again."
"Please... just give me a little more time..."
He tried to soothe them with his promise, desperately trying to preserve the fragile trust that still remained.
But instead of understanding or hope, he was answered by the anguished scream of a child.
"Stop it? Promise? What good is your promise?!"
A frail little boy burst out from behind the crowd, tears streaming down his face, his eyes red as he pointed accusingly at Hagoromo.
"Big Sister Butterfly is dead! Can your promise bring her back?!"
"It can't! You can't do anything! We believed in you! We thought you were different from that terrifying Rabbit Goddess..."
"But Big Sister Butterfly still died!"
"You lied!"
"You couldn't protect anyone!"
The child's cries struck like the sharpest spear, instantly shattering every psychological defense Hagoromo had built for himself.
"W-What... did you say?"
The guilt on Hagoromo's face froze, replaced by blank disbelief.
He slowly turned toward the sobbing boy, his voice dry and barely audible.
"Butterfly... what happened to her? Wasn't she... away visiting relatives...?"
Halfway through the sentence, he stopped himself.
An icy chill suddenly surged from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, freezing every part of his body.
He abruptly turned toward the towering God Tree in the distance, its branches covered with countless hanging cocoons.
A horrifying thought—one he had desperately refused to acknowledge—forced its way into his mind with terrifying clarity.
"No!"
The boy cried even harder.
"She wasn't visiting anyone! She was taken away!"
"They took her to be sacrificed to that monster tree!"
"She's dead!"
"She's never coming back!"
"We saw it with our own eyes!"
Buzz—
Hagoromo felt as though countless bees had exploded inside his head.
An overwhelming wave of dizziness washed over him, darkening his vision as his body nearly gave way beneath him.
He staggered before barely managing to steady himself.
"N-No..."
"That... that can't be true..."
He forced a stiff smile that looked more desperate than tears, frantically looking from one familiar face to another.
"Tell me..."
"Tell me this isn't true."
"Butterfly... she only went on a trip."
"She'll come back... won't she?"
"You... say something..."
Every villager he looked at—old men, women, young adults—wore expressions of unbearable grief and sorrow, mixed with complicated emotions toward Hagoromo himself.
One after another, they lowered their heads and avoided his gaze.
Some quietly wiped tears from the corners of their eyes.
Their silence was the cruelest answer of all.
Every pair of eyes that turned away...
Every grief-stricken face...
Fell upon Hagoromo's heart like a crushing hammer.
Breathing became agonizing.
Each breath seared his lungs as though countless tiny blades were slicing through them.
Every last trace of hope...
Every excuse he had made for himself...
Collapsed completely.
"NO—!!"
A heart-rending scream erupted from the depths of Hagoromo's soul, filled with endless agony, rage, disbelief, and utter despair.
The cry echoed throughout the entire village and seemed to carry all the way to the distant God Tree.
The next instant, he no longer hesitated.
Discarding all composure and reason, he exploded forward like a man possessed, his entire body becoming a blur of white as he raced toward the God Tree with every ounce of strength he had.
He had to see it for himself.
He had to know the truth with his own eyes.
Even though, deep down, he already knew the answer he feared most.
And he had to confront his mother—
To ask her whether all of this...
Was truly real.
Within the Heavenly Curtain, Hagoromo's anguished cry and desperate sprint gradually disappeared beyond the village road.
Before the dust had even settled, a lone figure slowly stepped out from the shadow of a nearby street corner.
It was Sarutobi Hi.
The solemn determination he had shown before his clansmen was gone.
The heavy expectations he had carried before his son had vanished as well.
Now, the only thing left in his bloodshot eyes—eyes reddened by years of suppressed hatred—was a nearly deranged fury fixed upon the direction where Hagoromo had disappeared.
"Butterfly..."
"My proud daughter..."
His voice was hoarse, like sand scraping against stone.
"Just wait a little longer..."
"It won't be long before Father comes to join you..."
"I'll beg your forgiveness..."
"I'll atone for everything..."
Yet despite those words, the hatred in his eyes toward Hagoromo did not diminish in the slightest.
If anything, it burned even more fiercely.
He hated Kaguya.
He hated her tyranny.
He hated her cruelty.
But now, seeing Hagoromo utterly broken by Butterfly's death, another, darker hatred had begun to take root.
He hated Hagoromo's weakness.
He hated that, despite being one of the Divine Princes, Hagoromo had been unable to protect Butterfly.
He even hated the grief Hagoromo displayed now, as though his suffering itself profaned the sacrifice his family had made.
His proud daughter...
The carefully nurtured piece he had placed upon the board...
Should have influenced the course of history in a far more meaningful way, contributing to the rise of their clan.
Instead, her life had ended in nothing more than an ordinary sacrifice.
And because of that, Sarutobi Hi's resentment toward Hagoromo—the very target of all his plans—had become deeper and more poisonous than words could describe.
◇ BONUS & SUPPORT ◇
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 10 reviews — drop a comment!
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ Read 70+ chapters ahead on P@treon → patreon.com/Sagamaster789