Sunlight fell through the gaps in the treetops, reflecting mottled and blinding specks of light.
The mountain path in front of the shrine was quiet, so quiet that only the sizzling sound of burning hair and Yura of the Hair's terrified panting remained.
The Sacred Arrow was just three inches from her feet, its fletching still trembling, while the white light of spiritual power, brighter than the sunlight, burned a small pit into the dirt.
Kanbe Hikaru completely released his restraint.
He stood up and brushed the dust off his hem, his movements slow and composed, as if he weren't the one who had just pinned a female demon beneath him.
Yura of the Hair still didn't dare to move.
Her golden slit pupils stared at the shrine maiden not far away, her body still trembling slightly.
Kikyo lowered her hand holding the bow, her white robes and red hakama standing as still as a mountain in the breeze.
She didn't look at the female demon on the ground, only at Kanbe Hikaru.
Her gaze seemed calm.
But...
"Can you get up?"
She asked.
Her voice was also indifferent, with no discernible emotion.
Kanbe Hikaru flexed his wrist: "I'm not hurt, it's just that this hair is a bit clinging."
"Clinging."
Kikyo repeated the word.
Her gaze swept over Kanbe Hikaru's chest, where a few strands of broken black hair were still clinging.
"It is indeed clingy."
She said, "It clings very tightly."
"..."
Kanbe Hikaru paused.
He realized it.
This priestess was displeased.
Although there was no expression on her face and her black eyes were as still as an ancient well, a heavy, oppressive atmosphere clearly surrounded her.
Fortunately.
At this moment, Kanbe Hikaru realized what was going on, and he wasn't panicked in the slightest.
His emotional intelligence was not low; he could see what was in Kikyo's mind.
If there was an issue, he would provide the necessary explanation.
"This is tactics."
Kanbe Hikaru explained, "She can manipulate hair to absorb Demonic Qi; only close-quarters combat could cut off her escape route. What happened just now was to—"
"To subdue the enemy."
Kikyo interrupted him, her tone excessively calm.
"I know."
"Then you..."
"I just think."
She turned to the side, no longer looking at him, her gaze falling on the distant mountains.
"You should change your clothes."
"Dirty."
A single word.
Crisp, yet it sounded like chewing on ice.
Kanbe Hikaru shut his mouth.
At this time, explaining was just covering up, and covering up was admitting the truth.
He turned his head to look at Yura of the Hair on the ground.
This demoness who manipulated hair was still slumped on the ground. Her dark red bodysuit was even more disheveled from the earlier struggle, the neckline wide open, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin. Coupled with that frightened little face, she was indeed somewhat pitiful.
But the one human and one spirit present clearly didn't buy it.
"Stop pretending."
Kanbe Hikaru picked up the Muramasa from the ground, pointing the tip of the blade at the tip of her nose: "Reveal your true form."
Yura of the Hair bit her lip, her eyes darting around.
"I don't understand what you're saying... I am a demon, this is what I look like..."
"Still pretending?"
Kanbe Hikaru smiled.
"When I was pinning you down just now, I felt it."
Yura of the Hair's face turned red instantly, and she subconsciously covered her chest: "You, you pervert!"
Kanbe Hikaru: "..."
She was still pretending.
The atmospheric pressure on Kikyo's side dropped even lower.
Kanbe Hikaru felt a chill down his back and hurriedly added, "I felt the source of your Demonic Qi."
"A comb, right?"
Yura of the Hair's expression froze instantly.
That was her fatal weakness.
She was a demon transformed from a comb; that comb was her lifeline. As long as the comb was destroyed, she would be scattered and annihilated.
"You... how did you know..."
"Blood."
Kanbe Hikaru pointed to the faint red mist that had not yet dissipated in the air.
"My blood mist had long since seeped in; that comb is now covered in my scent."
"As long as I have a thought—"
He made a fist-clenching gesture.
"The ghost fire will burn on your true form."
"Don't!"
Yura of the Hair shouted.
She stopped pretending, and she stopped acting.
Her body began to become transparent, like a melting candle.
Countless black hairs retracted, burrowing into the bushes on one side.
A moment later.
A red comb fell to the ground, with an antique design, its teeth like fangs.
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