After an unspoken conversation between Susanoo-no-Mikoto and Satsuki, Satsuki ultimately accepted the Yasakani no Magatama.
Although the divine artifact seemed to serve more as an ornament than a weapon in Satsuki's eyes, she did not deny that it possessed a few useful qualities.
However, that was not the issue that concerned her most at the moment.
Now, she needed to focus on Yasaka Shrine's arrangements for those who had fled from Ōeyama.
At the very least, she needed to keep a close watch on the one she had reconstructed—Shuten Nyōko.
Thus, after bidding farewell to Yasaka Shrine, Satsuki and her companions set their sights on the greatest human capital—Kyoto.
...
Ten li of road stretched forth, lined with withered reeds. Black mist blanketed the air, and the stench of blood mixed with hot dust battered against the vermilion walls of the city, saa saa, whispering through the wind. Gentle incense wafted upward; cypress fans waved lightly in the hands of nobles striving for refinement and elegance.
Yet the brilliance of red plum robes and silk brocade could not conceal the sorrow of the countless bones buried beneath. Spirits, demons, and grudges lingered upon the earth and within the hearts of every living being…
In such an age, humanity birthed a culture of unparalleled beauty that future generations would marvel at—but beneath that splendor lurked deep shadows unseen by the masses. From the year 794, when Japan's capital moved from Nagaoka to Heian, the Heian period began its four-hundred-year reign. Yet Heian-kyō was no paradise. Demon shadows intertwined with human lives, and vengeful spirits wandered the streets. Yōkai no longer hid in remote forests or mountain caves—they lived silently alongside humans, sometimes even under the same roof.
Heian-kyō was slowly being devoured by the supernatural, becoming a nest of monsters—and the grand stage for the Onmyōji.
To dissolve the conflicts between heaven, earth, man, and spirit, the "Onmyōji" displayed their full talents.
Relying on divination that encompassed the cosmos and incantations of mysterious power, they exorcised evil, banished demons, and became protectors revered by nobles and commoners alike.
But being an Onmyōji was no easy task. To survive within the treacherous imperial court, one had to master every refined art—waka poetry, Chinese verse, biwa, flute, incense, and tea ceremony—all were essential.
Furthermore, an Onmyōji required the ability to see through the human heart and the discipline never to betray a secret. Those who reached this level were all first-class geniuses of their time. It was precisely because of such skill that the Onmyōji could suppress both shrine maidens and sorcerers, forcing them to the outer fringes of society.
The institution that gathered and trained these Onmyōji was known as the Onmyō Bureau, located within the Imperial Palace of Heian-kyō—north of the Daijōkan, west of the Nakatsukasa Ministry, and directly south of the Inner Palace, in the area now known as Senbon Marutamachi in Kyoto's Kamigyō Ward.
However, in Kyoto at this moment, within the halls of the Onmyō Bureau where calm and leisure once prevailed, a sense of tension filled the air. A meeting of utmost urgency was being held.
"Chief, according to the reports from our subordinates, the Shuten Dōji who ruled over Ōeyama has been slain."
The speaker was a man around forty years of age, an Onmyōji dressed in a kariginu, wearing a black lacquered eboshi hat, and holding a bat-shaped fan while kneeling upon a cushion.
Judging from the patterns of his attire, he belonged to one of the Bureau's Four Great Divisions—the Division of Horology (Rokokudō), and his rank was that of a Hakase (Doctor).
The Division of Horology was, in essence, the department responsible for the measurement of time. The Hakase served as one of its chief officials.
From a modern perspective, it might seem absurd that such a department even existed—surely keeping time required no great bureaucracy. One might imagine its members doing little more than observing the heavens and noting the hours.
Yet, in this era, determining time was far from simple.
It was deeply connected with yin and yang transformations and the Five Elements, serving as the basis for divination and national rituals—what was known as the selection of auspicious hours.
While such matters might be dismissed today as superstition, in that age they were regarded as the foundation of serious science—often the key to success or failure in all undertakings. Thus the ancient Chinese saying, "The great affairs of the state lie in worship and war." The Onmyōji, descended from Daoist traditions, naturally inherited such beliefs.
Because of this immense importance, the Division of Horology was the only one among the Four Great Divisions to have two Hakase positions—an indication of its true influence within the Onmyō Bureau.
Though seemingly obscure, this department actually held significant authority within the organization.
That was also why he was the first to speak at this meeting.
The next to follow was the head of the Department of Astronomy.
"Lord Izumo is correct. Yesterday, I too observed a spiritual disturbance coming from the direction of Ōeyama. There must have been an extremely intense battle there. Based on my later analysis, at least three or more Great Yōkai or Oni Kings were engaged in fierce combat in that area."
His report was far more precise.
Seated behind the curtain, the true leader of the Onmyō Bureau responded to these two subordinates' statements with only a single word:
"Hm."
Clearly, the Onmyō no Kami (Head of Onmyōji) was long accustomed to such meaningless introductions—he did not even bother with courtesy anymore.
The third speaker sat on the right-hand side of the chamber. Compared with the older representatives of the Division of Horology and the Division of Astronomy, this Onmyōji was much younger—and strikingly beautiful.
Long white hair flowed down his back like strands of silk. His narrow eyes were tinted with faint violet shadow, exuding an air of noble grace. His kariginu was adorned with intricate decorations—though slightly oversized, it complemented his androgynous appearance, giving him a mysterious allure that could captivate both men and women alike.
Yet despite his delicate features, his words were simple and to the point:
"Yasaka Shrine and its allies."
Perhaps accustomed to his colleague's blunt style, the Onmyō no Kami behind the curtain finally spoke again:
"What does the Division of History have to say?"
The Division of History's representative sat beside the white-haired Onmyōji—an elderly man with gray hair and drooping eyelids. Judging by his weary demeanor, he clearly had not slept well before being summoned to this early meeting. A small bubble occasionally formed at the corner of his mouth as he dozed.
Anticipating this, a small child seated behind him gave his shoulder a gentle push.
"Lord Tadayuki, please wake up…"
Pop~
The old man stirred from his pleasant dream, blinking drowsily as he looked around. Then he sighed in disappointment.
"Ah… I was so close to seeing that beautiful woman's face. What a pity… truly heaven's jest."
His behavior embodied the phrase "an old man with no dignity."
However, from behind the curtain, the Onmyō no Kami suddenly took interest in the old man's words.
"Elder Kamo, perhaps you could share what sort of dream you were having just now? What kind of beauty did you see? Allow us to share in your vision as well."
"Lord Seimei?" The white-haired Onmyōji frowned. "Do you still have the mood to ask about some dream beauty at a time like this?"
"Eh~ you're mistaken."
Before the man behind the curtain—Abe no Seimei—could respond, the old man called Tadayuki shook his head with an amused smile and said leisurely, "Domon, you're always too impatient. That's why Seimei always keeps you under his thumb."
Hearing this, the white-haired Onmyōji replied irritably, "That's a different matter entirely."
Still, since the old man had spoken, the proud white-haired Onmyōji said no more. Even if he wasn't particularly perceptive, he could tell that the old man's dream carried hidden meaning.
Sure enough, the old man spoke next: "Just now, in my dream, I foresaw a great upheaval in Heian-kyō—I saw several vividly colored figures: gold, red, blue, white, and purple. Led by one cloaked in black, they completely replaced the gods of this era."
The moment those words were spoken, every Onmyōji in attendance turned pale. Their faces, already pale from long nights of work, were now drained of all color.
This old man was no ordinary figure—he was the renowned Grand Onmyōji Kamo no Tadayuki, descendant of the legendary sage En no Gyōja, the founder of Shugendō. Beyond Onmyōdō, the elder was versed in numerous disciplines and famed throughout the land for the accuracy of his divinations.
For someone like him, the formality of casting divination rituals was irrelevant—he could enter a prophetic state almost at will.
Thus, his words were unmistakably a prophecy.
"Master Tadayuki," asked Abe no Seimei from behind the curtain, "did you see the faces of those figures?"
"Ah…" The old man sighed heavily, his expression filled with regret. "I was this close to seeing the face of that black-clad beauty. If that foolish boy hadn't woken me, I might even have asked for her address…"
Then, with a wistful grin and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, he added, "Who knows—perhaps that would have made for a very pleasant twilight romance…"
"Grandfather," said the child in the kariginu behind him, giving him a weary look, "are you sure you want to say that out loud? Grandmother will kill you. Also, why are you so certain that the figure you saw was a woman?"
"Heh heh, you're too young to understand."
And with that, the famous Grand Onmyōji drifted back into his own dreamlike world.
Behind the curtain, Abe no Seimei gracefully changed the subject. His voice carried the warmth of a spring breeze as he said, "Although Master Tadayuki's prophecy is indeed of great importance, the most pressing issue now remains the matter of Shuten Dōji."
At this, the Onmyōji from the Division of Horology quickly chimed in, "Yes, yes, though Lord Tadayuki's predictions are always accurate, and I won't deny the severity of such an omen, our immediate priority must be the incident concerning Shuten Dōji. Otherwise, before the heavens change, our own positions may already be at risk. As for the affairs of the gods, let the shrine maidens worry about those."
It was a blunt statement—something rarely heard from these experienced courtiers. But clearly, the matter was now so grave that they could no longer afford to maintain polite pretense.
They could already sense that Shuten Dōji's death would shake not only the demon world but also the hierarchy of the Shinto domain itself.
Another Onmyōji, from the Division of Astronomy, agreed. "Since Lord Domon is certain that this was the work of Yasaka Shrine, I propose we immediately send envoys to confirm the truth—and learn their next course of action."
"Hm~ what Lord Izumo and Lord Boya say makes perfect sense…" Abe no Seimei chuckled softly behind the curtain, his tone calm and confident. "However, there's no need to send anyone specifically to verify the news."
"They'll come," said the white-haired Onmyōji with his eyes closed.
"In any case," Seimei continued, "this is good news—especially for those nobles long tormented by Shuten Dōji. Therefore, my friends…"
He smiled faintly, his words echoing through the hall like gentle thunder.
"Let us prepare… a grand welcoming ceremony."
"Welcoming ceremony?"
Hearing their revered leader speak so casually, all the Onmyōji exchanged puzzled glances. None could discern what their mysterious and inscrutable head was truly thinking.
"Yes, a welcoming ceremony," Seimei repeated. "So please, make the necessary preparations. We mustn't let our esteemed guests down."
Though doubts lingered in their hearts, none dared to question him further. Since the command had come directly from the Onmyō no Kami, they could only bow in confusion and withdraw from the chamber.
As the sound of footsteps faded, silence once again enveloped the great hall.
Only after a long while did a figure, draped entirely in black, slowly emerge from the shadows.
The curtain was drawn aside, revealing a face of breathtaking beauty—so flawless it seemed to mock the very concept of divinity. Her lips curled upward in a knowing smirk, eyes half-lidded with seductive charm. She wore a pitch-black gown far beyond the fashion of this era, paired with black stockings and high-heeled boots. Her long, straight hair shimmered like obsidian, and her eyes were twin pools of darkness.
She mirrored Satsuki in boldness, allure, and regal bearing. Though Satsuki did not deliberately flaunt her appearance, she neither concealed nor moderated it. Both were the kind of women who wore whatever they wanted without regard for others' scrutiny. In Satsuki's case, the real reason stemmed from her past male life and the nature of her former sexual interests—which made her favor clothing that would have once attracted her. That past preference shaped her current taste in fashion and how she dressed.
The fair features of the black-clad woman held a trace of malice and cold amusement as she gazed in the direction where the old Onmyōji had departed.
"Seimei," she said in a silken, mocking tone, "why didn't you press that old man for more details about his dream? Perhaps I could have uncovered something quite… intriguing."
"My lady mother," Abe no Seimei said, bowing low. "I did not expect you to come in person."
The black-clad woman, though appearing far younger than the famed Grand Onmyōji, gave a low, musical laugh. "My dear son… have you learned to play at human compassion now? Protecting the Fushimi Inari Shrine, shielding this wretched Kyoto, indulging that fool Shuten Dōji—are these not all merely your ways of defending against me?"
As she spoke, the alluring woman stepped closer, an aura of invisible dread emanating from her every movement. She reached out and gently lifted Seimei's chin with a single finger.
Even faced with reproach from his own mother, Abe no Seimei's handsome face remained composed. He answered calmly, "Yes, Mother."
Her lips curved into a cruel smile. "But have I not told you before, my child? Even gods cannot escape my grasp. Do you truly think your little schemes could?" She chuckled softly, the sound like the whisper of silk and poison. "Hehehehehe…"
Though his very life seemed to hang on her whim, Seimei did not waver. Instead, he asked evenly, "Since that is the case, Mother, what is your purpose in coming here personally this time?"
"Purpose?"
A shadow flickered across the woman's expression—quickly replaced by a smile sharp enough to cut the air.
Her voice turned low and dangerous.
"Tell me, Seimei… have you learned anything about the Lunar Palace in Kyoto?"