By the time they crossed the border, dawn had already broken. Miko washed her face briefly in a nearby stream, then followed a small path southward, with Satsuki's carriage trailing leisurely behind her.
Though Miko's mood remained somewhat subdued after the encounter with the bandits, Satsuki seemed intrigued by this new world.
However, considering they would soon enter human territory, Satsuki cast an illusion, transforming her yokai beast into two magnificent horses pulling the carriage side by side.
Before long, they descended the mountain path and officially set foot in the Kantō region.
The Kantō area was a vast expanse of open plains.
All around them stretched flat, cultivated fields dotted with windmills. Along the dirt roads that cut through the paddies, merchants and laborers bustled about, while farther off, ronin and scattered soldiers could be seen moving in small groups.
Because of the season, the paddies weren't suitable for planting, but that didn't mean there was no work to be done.
Weeding, filling burrow holes, turning the soil, pest control—these were tasks that never ceased.
Experienced farmers planted grass crops that could feed livestock in winter and be plowed into the paddies as fertilizer come spring. Such agricultural techniques might sound simple—trivial, even, in worlds with advanced farming—but in this war-torn age where humans and yokai coexisted uneasily, communication was by shouting and travel by foot. Nothing was simple here.
The fact that these people maintained such techniques meant they possessed at least a basic level of agricultural knowledge.
In this chaotic Sengoku era, lords cared little for literacy rates—they cared only for soldiers and grain, and whether they could wage war.
As they traveled, the shrine maiden Miko drew respectful bows and heartfelt greetings from everyone along the way. Satsuki could sense the sincerity in their voices.
The shadow on Miko's face from the bandit encounter slowly lifted, replaced by a gentle smile. Many children ran up to her, representing their families, and offered what little food or coin they could spare.
Miko, in turn, handed out talismans for peace and good fortune. The faint spiritual glow from the charms brought joy to those who received them.
It was a rare and beautiful relationship. In the shinobi world, ninjas and commoners rarely interacted so openly—they lived separate lives. But here, shrine maidens and sorcerers with spiritual power were part of everyday society.
They bore the world's most dangerous duties and the heaviest fates, while the people they protected gave back however they could—creating a bond of mutual support.
"Perhaps it's exactly this kind of trust," Satsuki mused softly, "that allows fragile humans to survive under the threat of yokai."
...
After passing through several castle towns, they arrived before a fortress city surrounded by a deep moat.
Armed guards lined the high outer walls, every defensive weapon primed for battle. Behind the first wall stood an even taller inner wall equipped with ballistae and catapults—clearly designed for heavy defense.
From its construction, it was a typical military fortress. Civilian homes were sparse outside the walls; most townspeople lived within, gathering at sunset for safety. The farmlands outside served purely for production. This setup concentrated the population and wealth within the city, protecting them from bandits and raids.
But those living in the surrounding villages weren't so fortunate.
Before approaching the gate, Satsuki had already stored her carriage back into her dimensional space.
The three of them—two riders and two horses—made their way toward the entrance. A long line stretched nearly a hundred meters from the gate, filled with merchants, ronin, and occasionally robed mages or exorcists wearing straw hats.
Satsuki and Ruri followed quietly behind Miko, leading their horses patiently as the slow-moving queue inched toward the city gate.
Because of Miko's status as a shrine maiden—and the fact that Satsuki and Ruri clearly didn't look like ordinary travelers—the three of them entered the large city without any trouble.
The city was remarkably clean, with buildings neatly arranged in well-planned rows. The streets were bustling with far more people than in the rural villages they had passed. Vendors sold a variety of goods along both sides of the road, while porters carrying shoulder poles and merchants driving ox- and horse-drawn carts weaved through the crowds. Among all the establishments, the most common were food stalls and inns adorned with lanterns marked with the character [油] ("oil").
Such signs typically indicated bathhouses or hot spring inns—and here, they were everywhere. A single glance down the street revealed at least one or two such places per block.
At Satsuki's side, Miko spoke with a small smile. "Miss Satsuki, welcome to Tama City—the Hot Spring Capital of the Kantō region. There's a branch of the Katori Shrine here. I need to visit it first, to pay respects to the local deity and report your situation to the main shrine." She gestured toward a nearby hot spring inn. "Miss Satsuki, the springs here are quite famous. You should try them. We can set out again tomorrow."
"Very well. You go ahead—I'll find you later," Satsuki replied.
She and Ruri then chose one of the cleaner-looking inns at random.
Upon entering, they found a middle-aged woman behind the counter wearing a blue floral kimono with a narrow sash around her waist. She looked troubled, staring at a cluttered pile of goods before her—citrus fruits, steamed buns, sickles, cotton, and other miscellaneous items.
As the two approached the counter, they heard the innkeeper muttering to herself, "Steamed buns, three mon each... six here... citrus, two mon each... seventeen total... eggplants, ten for one mon... only six here—and two are rotten... oh dear..."
She fumbled through the items for a long while without reaching a conclusion, growing more confused the longer she stared—so much so that she hadn't noticed her customers' arrival.
—"The total is three kan, seven hundred thirty-seven mon, and eight rin," said a calm, soft voice.
"If the fish and other foodstuffs aren't spoiled, that is."
"Huh?"
The woman finally realized someone was there. She straightened up quickly and bowed. "Ah! I'm so sorry—I got caught up trying to calculate all this. Please forgive me, honored guests."
"It's quite all right," Satsuki said gently. "When faced with such a pile of mixed yet important items, anyone without a trained sense for numbers would find their mind in disarray."
Her tone was refined and composed—her manner that of someone born to nobility.
Just from her voice, the innkeeper could tell this guest was no ordinary person.
But when she finally lifted her gaze and saw Satsuki's face—her expression froze completely.
Such beauty, paired with those golden eyes and the black kimono... there could be no mistake.
"You... you must be Miss Satsuki, from the Demon-Hunting Village, aren't you?"
"Oh? You know me?" Satsuki paused briefly, then nodded slightly. "This should be my first time visiting this place."
"Miss Satsuki, you might not know this, but my son—Kintarō—is an exorcist from the Demon-Hunting Village. He refused to inherit our hot spring inn, dreaming instead of becoming a hero. He's spoken of you often—how you've saved his life and those of his comrades more than once."
Kintarō?
To be honest, Satsuki didn't recognize the name. During her stay at the Demon-Hunting Village, she had treated countless wounded. She had no interest in remembering the faces of ordinary men who came and went.
Still, it reminded her that even her [Veil of Light and Shadow] couldn't completely erase traces of her past. Not that it mattered—her concealment had been purely for convenience. She didn't care whether her identity remained hidden.
So she simply replied politely, "It was nothing. As the village's physician, that was my duty. But as his mother, I imagine you've had a hard time with his stubbornness."
At that, the innkeeper nodded vigorously. "Yes! Everyone knows that aside from war, being an exorcist is the most dangerous work there is. Once they face a yokai, ordinary humans have no chance of survival. Ah, we've quarreled with Taro countless times over this."
...
Ruri, standing nearby, had no interest in small talk. Suddenly, her eyes sharpened, turning toward the doorway.
Just as she looked over—
Clang~
A crisp metallic chime echoed from the entrance. A monk in a blue-violet robe stepped through the curtain, wearing a straw hat that shadowed his face. In his left hand, he carried an elegant shakujo staff; on his right wrist glimmered a golden bracelet. A faint pulse of spiritual power radiated from his body.
"Oh, welcome, honored monk!" The innkeeper quickly greeted him before turning back to Satsuki. "Ah, forgive me, I almost forgot to ask—you must be hungry or looking for lodging? Since you saved my son, both your meal and stay will be free. Please don't refuse."
"Then I'll accept your kindness," Satsuki said without hesitation. "I'll stay here for the night. Please prepare a double room."
"Of course."
The innkeeper plucked a wooden tag from the key rack and handed it to Satsuki, then rang a small bell.
A sleepy young woman in her early twenties emerged from the back. Upon seeing Satsuki, she froze in astonishment.
"This is Miss Satsuki from the Demon-Hunting Village," the innkeeper said. "Take good care of her."
"Yes!" The girl straightened instantly and bowed deeply. "My name is Junko. Please follow me, Miss Satsuki."
Casting a subtle glance toward the silent monk who had entered behind her, Satsuki followed Junko down the hallway with Ruri at her side.
After Satsuki left, the monk removed his hat, revealing a weathered yet dignified face. His short black hair and sharp black eyes gave him a stern appearance.
"Honored monk, will you be dining or seeking lodging?" the innkeeper asked.
The monk bowed respectfully, then spoke words that left everyone speechless.
"I have no money. I merely sensed strong fortune here and came to seek alms."
"Uh..." The innkeeper looked awkward—she had never encountered such a blunt ascetic before.
In a city like this, monks and magi were treated with respect, but that very reverence had given rise to countless frauds.
"Please don't misunderstand," the monk said quickly, seemingly used to such reactions. He pulled a scroll from his robe and handed it to her. "This should confirm my identity. Please, take a look."
The innkeeper accepted it skeptically. But when her eyes fell upon the name written on the document, her expression changed completely.
"Y-you're... Grand Magus En no Ozunu?!"
"Shh~ shh~ shh~ Not so loud, please," the monk said hurriedly, gesturing for silence.
Perhaps afraid of being discovered, the monk who called himself En no Ozunu suddenly glanced around nervously, then leaned close to the innkeeper and whispered, "I only wish to stay here for a few days. Of course, if there happen to be beautiful young women and soothing hot springs, that would be even better."
"Ah... of course. Please wait a moment, I'll make the arrangements right away," the innkeeper said awkwardly.
...
Meanwhile, deeper within the inn, Junko was giving Satsuki and Ruri a detailed tour of the hot spring's layout and the surrounding area—her tone and gestures almost like that of a professional tour guide.
"This district lies on the outer edge of Tama City. It's a sightseeing area, so aside from times of war, it's usually bustling with visitors. Especially our local hot spring inns—our establishment is among the better ones."
As Junko explained, the three of them made their way upstairs to the second floor.
"This section is reserved for distinguished guests. Our outdoor hot spring is just here. You needn't worry about being disturbed—it's enclosed by a fence and divided into male and female sections."
Satsuki walked along, silently observing the architecture. She was quite pleased with what she saw. The inn followed a traditional Japanese layout.
They were now walking along an outdoor corridor built over volcanic rock. The corridor connected two separate buildings, the one ahead slightly larger than the first. On the left side of the walkway stood the fenced hot spring—only the barrier was visible from here. On the right was a small courtyard with a single barren cherry blossom tree at its center, and beneath it stood a modest shrine.
"In springtime, guests sit in that pavilion to view the blossoms," Junko explained. "Many also come here to pray."
"If there are many visitors, we spread a large cloth over the ground and raise a big parasol to block the sun. Guests then sit beneath it, drinking sake and chatting while the cherry petals drift all around them. If you continue through this corridor to the rear building, you'll find dining rooms on the first floor—and an indoor bathhouse for rainy days or early mornings."
After several twists and turns, Satsuki and Ruri finally arrived at their room.
The environment was far better than that of the Demon-Hunting Village—it truly felt like moving from the countryside into the city.
Thinking of that exorcist Kintarō, who had given up such comfort to chase his dream, Satsuki couldn't help but feel a hint of admiration.
Though he might not possess great talent or spiritual power, in an era like this, such determination alone was precious.
Under Junko's guidance, Satsuki and Ruri entered their room and hung the wooden tag on the door. Each room was surrounded by a simple protective barrier—weak, but better than nothing.
The two sat facing each other. As usual, Satsuki began preparing tea, while Ruri spoke up. "Master, that monk earlier carried a heavy stench—he's not an ordinary man."
Though Ruri wasn't a yokai, her sensitivity to spiritual and demonic auras was unmatched. The monk's body was wrapped in two extremely powerful linguistic curses—stronger even than the barriers used by shrine maidens like Miko.
"He bears two curses equal in strength to those of great yokai," Satsuki said quietly. "To remain alive under such conditions... he's no ordinary being."
Her Tenseigan pierced through the room's wall, gazing toward the entrance of the inn.
Outside, two tall figures wearing straw hats stood motionless in the shadows—hidden, yet clearly watching.
—
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