The journey from Yasaka Shrine to Kyoto was neither particularly long nor short, as a vast mountain range lay between them.
Fortunately, since their mission to eliminate Shuten Dōji had gone smoothly—and with the miko of Yasaka Shrine and Satsuki's group providing protection along the way—they encountered no difficulties even as they passed directly through the Ōeyama region.
After roughly three days of travel, Satsuki's party finally reached the outskirts of Kyoto.
"It's hard to imagine that such magnificent structures could exist in an age like this."
Heian-kyō—the name itself meant "Capital of Peace and Tranquility."
The city was laid out in a rectangular grid, with Suzaku Avenue running north to south as its central axis. The capital was divided into the Eastern and Western Districts, with the Imperial Palace at its center, Rashōmon at its southern entrance, the Imperial City surrounding the palace, and the outer capital beyond that.
The streets were arranged in a perfect grid pattern—east to west, north to south—precisely demarcating the palace, government offices, residential areas, and commercial districts. Fushimi Inari Shrine lay to the north, and all streets intersected at right angles.
Through Satsuki's Tenseigan, she observed that the people of Kyoto seemed to live in an entirely different world compared to those of other regions. Their quality of life and standard of living were unquestionably superior. However—the density of malevolent energy here was as overwhelming as what she had once felt in the Cloud Palace of Princess Inukimi.
"Master," Ruri murmured quietly beside her, her expression calm, "it seems this city is not only a haven for humans. The yōkai and spirits appear quite fond of it as well."
"That's perfectly natural," Satsuki replied, her tone equally quiet, audible only to Sesshōmaru and Ruri. "The relationship between humans and yōkai is like two interlocking links in a food chain—they prosper and decline together. Here in Kyoto, the yōkai have clearly grown far more sophisticated than those in rural regions. They understand the concept of sustainability rather than mindless slaughter."
Yōkai, demons, malevolent spirits—all such beings fed primarily on the negative emotions and spiritual energy of humans. Few actually consumed human flesh. Maintaining an active and populous human society was therefore in their best interest.
Sesshōmaru, however, was far more sensitive. From the moment he stepped into Kyoto, his brow had been furrowed. When Satsuki glanced his way, he only said coldly, "This place reeks of fox."
Foxes? Satsuki neither confirmed nor denied his words.
Soon, their group joined the flow of travelers heading toward Kyoto's main gates. (Satsuki had concealed Sesshōmaru's demonic aura and used his hair to cover his ears—at a glance, he looked entirely human.)
The entry toll for Kyoto was ten kan coins—a fortune in that era, unaffordable for most common folk from nearby villages.
However, since this group was led by shrine maidens of the Four Great Shrines, and because they explained the circumstances of their mission, the gate guards—who clearly had prior knowledge—allowed them passage without issue.
This made the Saigū, Sakura Fubuki, realize that within Kyoto, many were already keeping close watch on the Shrine's movements.
Attracting attention was expected—but the fact that the guards could grant entry without consulting higher authority meant that the influence behind this decision reached the administrative core. And in Kyoto, only the Onmyō Bureau, under the leadership of the Onmyōji, held such practical power.
Sure enough, not long after they entered Heian-kyō with their large group of refugees, a contingent of Onmyōji appeared—dressed in kariginu, wearing eboshi hats, and flanked by armed guards.
Judging from his attire and bearing, the leader among them was a high-ranking Onmyō Assistant, an administrative officer second only to the Bureau Chief—the Onmyō no Kami himself.
Sending such a figure to receive them was no small gesture.
It was, in essence, akin to how nations dispatched ministers or ambassadors to conduct preliminary diplomatic negotiations.
Thus, the Saigū Sakura Fubuki did not step forward personally. Instead, she appointed Miko Ayami to handle the conversation with the visiting officials.
Satsuki and her companions, however, lost interest in the Onmyō Assistant after only a brief glance. Although he possessed a respectable level of spiritual power, compared to the mikos and monks of Yasaka Shrine, his strength was far inferior.
At best, he was on par with a skilled countryside exorcist—capable of handling a few mid-level yōkai, but nothing beyond that.
Thus, Satsuki turned her attention to Kyoto's architectural landscape instead.
The city's design clearly bore the influence of ancient China, and unlike the others, who looked around in wide-eyed wonder like villagers entering a grand estate, Satsuki focused on key structural points.
Her Tenseigan granted her a unique, omniscient perspective—allowing her to view the entirety of Kyoto as if from above.
"One, two, three… eight nodes in total?"
Satsuki murmured thoughtfully as her gaze traced the eight spiral-arranged points across the city. It was unmistakably a sealing formation—though not yet activated. Rather, it seemed to be lying dormant, waiting for the right moment.
Judging by the time scale, these nodes must have been placed over several decades. Therefore, it was unlikely that this formation was meant to target her or Yasaka Shrine.
That, in itself, was quite intriguing.
Within Heian-kyō, few factions possessed the resources and authority to establish such a massive, long-term formation—and even fewer had enemies worthy of such a defensive measure.
"It seems Kyoto's waters run deep," Satsuki mused.
Just then, she felt a gentle tug at the edge of her sleeve.
Retracting her gaze, she looked to her right—where Shuten Nyōko, now reborn as Ibuki Suika, was gazing up at her with wide, pleading eyes.
Perhaps because Satsuki was the first person she had seen upon awakening from her reconstruction, Suika had developed an unusually strong attachment to her—displaying an almost childlike dependence. She rarely spoke, but seldom let Satsuki out of her sight—or rather, she refused to let Satsuki leave hers.
"What is it, Suika?" Satsuki asked softly.
The newly renamed Oni King pointed toward a street vendor nearby.
Satsuki followed her gesture and saw a merchant selling gourd-shaped containers. Judging by the labels, most of them were sake flasks—some newly lacquered, others aged and sealed.
"Children aren't allowed to drink alcohol," Ruri said dryly, stepping forward to tap Suika on the head.
Suika immediately teared up and ran behind Satsuki, burying her face into the folds of her kimono.
"Ruri is right," Satsuki said with a faint smile. "Little girls shouldn't be drinking."
Upon hearing that, Suika's expression fell, her adorable face crumpling as tears welled up in her eyes.
Seeing her pitiful look, Satsuki paused—then suddenly added, "But… if little Suika behaves herself, perhaps I could buy you a toy instead. How about that?"
"Really?" Suika's eyes sparkled instantly.
"At least in this matter," Satsuki said with a serene smile, "I'm telling the truth."
When Sakura Fubuki approached Satsuki, she found her handing a gourd of sake to Suika beside her.
"The officials of Kyoto have agreed to take care of these refugees," the young Saigū said. "We must first bring them to Fushimi Inari Shrine to register their information."
Satsuki turned her head and saw the hundreds of rescued women standing in neat rows nearby.
"Fushimi Inari Shrine? They're the ones taking in these refugees?" she asked.
It made sense. Since these women had been rescued from Shuten Dōji's lair, few would be willing to host them in private estates. Even those with family in Kyoto would find their relatives unwilling to receive them. In the eyes of noble households obsessed with reputation, women captured by Shuten Dōji were considered defiled—despite their innocence, they still bore a stigma that was not their fault.
Sakura Fubuki continued, "Fushimi Inari Shrine is different from the other three Great Shrines. It has deep connections with Kyoto's noble families. Shuten Dōji's rampage lasted for centuries, and many aristocratic households suffered his wrath. Wives and daughters were abducted, though a few managed to escape and return…"
"To ensure that such cases were not traps set by Shuten Dōji, all women who escaped from his domain were required to stay at Fushimi Inari Shrine for a time to undergo purification rituals."
The young Saigū's knowledge of everything related to Shuten Dōji was surprisingly extensive—she spoke fluently, almost academically.
"Moreover," she added, "if a family still harbored sympathy for a captured relative, they could not publicly intervene—but they could make generous donations to Fushimi Inari Shrine, asking the priests there to provide extra care for their unfortunate kin."
"The turmoil caused by Shuten Dōji lasted far too long. Too many noble families were ruined. Over time, this practice became an unspoken rule, and Fushimi Inari Shrine, in turn, gained ample resources to sustain the rescued shrine maidens and women. It may not be a perfect solution, but it's one everyone can accept."
By the end of her explanation, the young Saigū bowed respectfully to Satsuki once again.
"Your aid in defeating Shuten Dōji was immeasurable, Lady Satsuki. May I ask what your plans are from here?"
"My plans?" Satsuki shook her head slightly. "Nothing concrete for now. I'll think about that once these poor souls have been properly settled."
"In that case," Sakura Fubuki asked softly, "would Lady Satsuki be willing to enter Kyoto and have an audience with the Emperor?"
"An audience with the Emperor?"
Satsuki raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised. She hadn't expected such an invitation. To appear before the Emperor meant a public acknowledgment of her presence in the divine sphere—an implicit association with Yasaka Shrine.
But so what? To Satsuki, others' perceptions meant little. At her current level, such matters were beneath her concern.
"If it won't cause trouble for Yasaka Shrine," she replied calmly, "then I don't mind."
Sakura Fubuki smiled. "Very well. I'll send a shikigami to inform you when the time comes."
With that, she departed, leading the shrine maidens and monks of Yasaka Shrine—and the rescued women—toward the direction of Fushimi Inari Shrine.
Although Ibuki Suika looked back several times with reluctant eyes, she eventually followed the group obediently.
"Lady Satsuki, what should we do next?"
Once the crowd had dispersed, Ruri snapped open her folding fan and asked lightly.
"Since we're already in Kyoto," Satsuki replied with a faint smile, "let's take a look around… It's not often we get such an opportunity."
"And what about Sesshōmaru?"
Ruri glanced toward the elegant figure surrounded by a group of kimono-clad women. The aristocratic ice prince of the dog clan seemed to have captivated nearly every woman on the street—his fair skin, refined androgynous beauty, cold demeanor, and long silver hair drew countless admiring gazes.
Yet Sesshōmaru showed no interest whatsoever. If not for his consideration toward Satsuki and Ruri, he might have already slain the humans who dared to touch him.
Even though Sesshōmaru hadn't acted yet, Satsuki could already tell he was on the verge of snapping.
"Ruri, take Sesshōmaru and look around. Don't let him cause trouble here. If anything happens, contact me immediately."
"Yes," Ruri replied promptly, then pushed her way through the crowd toward Sesshōmaru. "Excuse me, everyone," she said with a disarming smile, "this gentleman here is my poor, lost young master. He's rather temperamental and easily startled, so for your own safety, please don't get too close. They haven't invented rabies vaccines yet in this era, you know."
The moment he heard those words, Sesshōmaru's expression twitched. He could clearly sense that Ruri was mocking him—but since he couldn't beat her, he could only glare in sullen silence.
"Don't look at me like that, big guy," Ruri said cheerfully, grabbing him by the arm. "Come on, I'll take you somewhere interesting."
With that, she dragged the great dog demon out of the crowd, leaving behind a chorus of sighs and lamentations from the disappointed women they'd escaped.
Meanwhile, Satsuki's gaze returned to the city itself—specifically, to the eight sealing points that had caught her attention earlier. Through her Tenseigan, Kyoto did not appear like a human capital at all. It looked more like a paradise for demons.
Since entering the city, she had sensed countless yōkai auras scattered throughout the area. They were everywhere—lurking beneath every roof, hidden in every shadow.
But the greatest concentration of that malevolent energy came from beyond the Rashōmon gate—the boundary between the imperial palace and the common districts. Inside, the density of demonic and spiritual corruption was so overwhelming it seemed to stain half the sky.
If not for those eight sealing points constantly radiating purifying energy to balance the corruption, Heian-kyō would have become a full-fledged demon realm in the blink of an eye.
"As the base of the Onmyōji, this is… unexpected," Satsuki murmured. "Even a rabbit knows not to foul its own burrow, yet this…"
Such a state was absurd. Either the Onmyōji of Kyoto were blind incompetents who couldn't sense the rampant corruption around them…
Or—the source of this evil was so powerful that they had collectively chosen to ignore it. As long as the fragile illusion of coexistence between humans and demons could be maintained, they turned a blind eye to the truth.
But if such a powerful entity truly existed here, why would it allow a massive spiral sealing formation to stand unopposed?
The contradiction puzzled Satsuki deeply.
Then suddenly—she felt it.
A gaze.
Cold, invasive, and distant…
Someone—or something—was watching her.