"Tsk, releasing your demonic energy to transform into your true form?" Watching Sesshōmaru's reaction within the colossal Tenseigan, Ruri tapped her fan lightly. "That decision is a double-edged sword."
While releasing his yōki granted Sesshōmaru immense increases in strength, speed, and endurance, it also enlarged his body, making him a far easier target. At the same time, he lost the ability to move silently or swiftly across short distances.
Against an opponent like Ryūkotsusei—whose raw power and physical resilience stood at the pinnacle among all yōkai—choosing to face him head-on was, at best, reckless. The outcome was unlikely to be favorable.
Satsuki, however, showed no reaction to Sesshōmaru's choice. Her gaze, instead, focused upon the magatama embedded on Ryūkotsusei's forehead.
That power within was not unfamiliar to her.
For contained inside it was a fragment of the Great Brahma King's Energy Control authority. And it was precisely because of that fragment's Perpetuity power that Bakusaiga's energy had been devoured.
This revealed a crucial truth: there existed a hierarchy among the laws of authority.
Sesshōmaru was undoubtedly the most promising yōkai of the Warring States era—perhaps even destined to become the strongest—but compared to a being who once ruled over entire worlds, a so-called "GM," the difference was beyond measure.
Even though Ryūkotsusei now wielded only a sliver of the Great Brahma King's authority, it was enough to grant him resistance to all demonic energy. Combined with his dragon body, impervious to weapons, and his vast reserves of yōki, defeating him was practically impossible for Sesshōmaru.
Thinking so, Satsuki muttered softly, "Sesshōmaru, let me see what choice you will make."
...
Amid the clouds.
Sesshōmaru's body swelled as he revealed his original form—a colossal white dog yōkai wreathed in ethereal fur that flowed like clouds. His massive limbs radiated overwhelming might; his very presence seemed capable of shaking mountains.
In this age, such a being could easily sweep through entire nations.
Yet, even in his true form, Sesshōmaru dared not underestimate Ryūkotsusei before him.
"You've chosen to reveal your true form?" Ryūkotsusei lowered his enormous draconic head. "Boy, do you intend to fight me in close combat?"
Roooar...!
Unlike Ryūkotsusei, who could still speak in his dragon form, Sesshōmaru had lost the ability to use words. Instead, his thunderous roar alone conveyed his intent with piercing clarity.
Then, enveloped in spiraling wind, the giant white dog leapt forward to clash with the towering dragon.
"Foolish."
The power stored within Ryūkotsusei's massive frame far surpassed that of most great yōkai. Even against Sesshōmaru's enormous canine body, his confidence never wavered.
—There existed no creature that could hope to overpower a dragon in a contest of pure strength.
With that conviction, Ryūkotsusei lunged.
The two titans collided midair, and—
BOOOOM...!
A thunderous shockwave roared through heaven and earth.
Unlike the energy surges born from their demonic auras earlier, this tremor was the result of sheer physical might clashing at its peak.
The shockwave tore through the sky, sweeping outward in all directions. Even far away, the small yōkai Jaken was nearly blown off his feet; only by driving his staff's head firmly into a crack in the rocks could he remain standing.
Meanwhile, the two colossal beasts—the white dog and the dragon—had already fallen into savage, close-quarters combat.
Ripping, clawing, biting...
In his canine form, Sesshōmaru completely abandoned his previous sword-based fighting style. He was now fighting as a pure beast.
Circling Ryūkotsusei's enormous body like a hunting wolverine stalking a giant serpent, Sesshōmaru relied on his extraordinary reflexes and agility to exploit fleeting moments of opportunity.
However, Ryūkotsusei's body was simply too durable. Even with Bakusaiga's energy fused into his claws and fangs, Sesshōmaru's strikes could inflict only minimal damage.
And before long, the wounds he managed to create would be devoured by that same violet energy—then heal entirely.
This gave Ryūkotsusei immense leeway for mistakes.
Sesshōmaru, however, had none.
Although Ryūkotsusei's reflexes were slower than Sesshōmaru's, his sheer size granted him a massive advantage. Even a simple tail sweep or a twist of his body sent destructive waves through the air—each strike covering a range far beyond Sesshōmaru's reach and carrying far greater destructive force.
A single mistake, even a moment's carelessness, could send Sesshōmaru plummeting from the sky, grievously wounded.
By now, every ounce of demonic energy within him had already been unleashed. He no longer possessed the ability to forcibly heal himself as he had before.
Rooar...!
Yet in his beast form, Sesshōmaru seemed to have lost the battle instinct he held in his humanoid state. Again and again, he hurled himself at Ryūkotsusei's immense body, biting and clawing without pause.
At the same time, he dashed and leapt swiftly through the clouds, evading the dragon's sweeping strikes and counterattacks.
The clash between these two mighty yōkai had now devolved into a brutal test of endurance—a war of attrition. What should have been a contest of dazzling energy beams had become a primal, bloody struggle between beasts.
...
Meanwhile, within the Cloud Palace of the Western Lands—
"Madam, should we not go assist the young master?" asked Hōsenki, who sat cross-legged within his enormous clam shell, looking toward the thoughtful Princess Inukimi. "That Ryūkotsusei fellow now bears the aid of those from the Lunar Palace. I fear young master Sesshōmaru may not be his match."
"Hōsenki, you know Sesshōmaru's temperament well enough," replied an elderly man perched upon the back of a three-eyed ox yōkai. His large eyes gave him a somewhat dull, foolish appearance. "If you go to help him now, he might just cut you down along with his enemy."
"Ah... do you think I don't want to save my unlovable son?" Inukimi sighed, resting her chin on her hand. "But that fool Tōga—knowing there might be an invasion—went off to protect that human woman instead. And aside from him, there aren't many great yōkai left in the Western Lands. If I scatter our forces now, and the Lunar Palace decides to attack, what then?"
"Madam... Madam..."
As Inukimi pondered how best to divide her strength for defense, a small voice spoke from beside her. Turning her head, she frowned. "Oh, it's you, Myōga the flea. Why aren't you with Tōga? What are you doing here?"
Though her tone carried little emotion, Myōga felt an icy chill run down his tiny body. He bowed his head nervously before mustering the courage to speak.
"My lady, the lord instructed me beforehand—should young master Sesshōmaru ever return to the Western Lands, I am to deliver Tenseiga to him."
"Tenseiga?" At that, Inukimi's expression turned strange. "Has that old fool finally lost his mind? Giving Tenseiga to Sesshōmaru—does he intend to sever ties with him completely?"
"Uh..." A bead of sweat slid down Myōga's forehead. "I do not know the lord's reasons, but those were his exact orders."
"Fine, it's none of my concern anyway." Inukimi waved her hand dismissively, then added casually, "Was there anything else?"
"Ah... yes. The lord also left a necklace for you, my lady."
...
Within a forest stood a small country—its territory so tiny it barely spanned a few dozen square kilometers. To call it a "nation" was almost an exaggeration, for even the vast grounds of the Yasaka Shrine, one of the Four Great Shrines, were larger than it.
It was midwinter. Snowflakes like goose feathers fluttered through the air, blanketing the earth and the forest in a layer of silver. The cold night carried with it a faint, chilling solemnity.
Yet beneath this still and deathly calm, hundreds of human warriors and onmyōji dressed in hunting robes stood in formation around the borders of this small country.
Their expressions were grim. Each held a naginata or a spear, clad in armor with protective sleeves bound at their shoulders—attire typical of human warriors in this era. They stood in perfect silence, not a sound escaping them save for the faint rhythm of their breathing.
They surrounded the encampment at the center, all eyes fixed upon the single narrow path leading into the forest—as though waiting for something.
Thump... Thump... Thump...
Inside the corridors of a palace, a young warrior strode forward, spear in hand and helmet tucked under his arm. His face bore a cold, unreadable expression as he made his way toward a room deep within the encampment.
An elderly woman with graying hair spotted him approaching, her eyes widening in alarm. "Lord Setsuna-no-Marumaru, please wait! Her Highness, the Princess, is about to give birth!"
But the man known as Setsuna-no-Marumaru ignored her completely, walking past without so much as a glance. His voice, when he spoke, was devoid of emotion—cold and cruel.
"The princess carries a demon's child. There's no need to concern yourself with her."
"Lord Marumaru!" the old woman cried, summoning what little courage she had left to step in his path. "This is not a place for men to enter!"
The only response she received—was the thrust of a spear.
"Lord... Marumaru...?"
The old woman's eyes widened in disbelief as blood seeped from her chest. Without a flicker of emotion, the warrior kicked her lifeless body from his spear and muttered coldly, "She's nothing more than a woman carrying a demon's spawn."
Hatred—bitter and searing—boiled in his chest. Betrayal twisted within him, consuming every rational thought as he pulled his spear free and continued toward the encampment's heart.
At the door, the warrior paused, lifting his gaze toward the sky where the moon hung blood-red and shadowed.
"An eclipse...? How fitting—for a night meant to drive out demons."
He stepped forward, his pace slow but steady. Parting the layers of curtains draped around the great bed, he cast a dark shadow over the beautiful woman lying within.
"Who's there?"
The voice was weak—barely more than a whisper. The princess, pale and weary from labor, could scarcely muster the strength to speak.
"I am Setsuna-no-Marumaru."
"Marumaru... you came at the right time. Take the soldiers and leave. None of you can stand against him. Staying will only lead to your deaths."
But her words of warning and concern fell on deaf ears. The flames of jealousy burned too fiercely within the man's heart.
He lifted his spear slowly.
"Princess Izayoi, I have long admired you. But though your heart has been stolen by a demon..."
Whoosh—!
The spear sliced through the curtain and shot straight toward the woman known as Princess Izayoi.
But at that very instant, the sheath resting beside her suddenly burst into radiant blue light. In the blink of an eye, a brilliant barrier of azure energy unfolded around her.
The barrier shattered the oncoming spear, rebounding it violently toward Marumaru himself.
If not for his quick reflexes, rolling aside at the last second, he might have impaled himself with his own weapon.
Staring at the glowing blue shield, Marumaru's expression hardened.
"A barrier...?! Then he's already here?"
Even as he spoke, an overwhelming sense of danger welled up inside him—an instinctive dread unlike any he had ever felt.
He barely had time to draw the sword at his waist when, in the next instant, a force beyond comprehension struck him squarely in the chest.
"Nani?!"
The impact sent him hurtling through the encampment walls, his body crashing violently into the snow outside.
"Cough... cough..."
Despite the searing pain in his chest, his left arm gone, and blood mixed with fragments of his own organs spilling from his mouth, Setsuna-no-Marumaru still forced his head up. Supporting himself with the broken remains of his sword, he glared toward the shadowed figure emerging from the darkness.
"So, the demon finally arrives... and right on time."
But in response to his words, Tōga's expression remained calm—though his increasingly heavy breathing and blood-red eyes made it clear that the Great Dog General was consumed by fury.
Without a word, Tōga drew the sword from his back—Sō'unga. Even when facing mighty foes like Shishinki, he had never unsheathed this blade. Yet now, he had drawn it—against a human.
"You vile wretch..."
Tōga rarely lost his composure. Even when humans, fearful and ignorant, raised their blades against him, he had never held hatred for them.
Humans feared yōkai because they were weak—afraid of injury, of death, of the unknown. It was only natural. He had always understood this truth, and thus, he had never killed those who attacked him out of fear.
But he had never imagined that one among them could be so cruel—to raise his weapon against Izayoi, a human woman about to give birth. That was something Tōga could never forgive.
So he unsheathed Sō'unga—the blade said to contain the spirits of ancient malevolence. Unlike Tessaiga or Tenseiga, this was a cursed sword, its power drawn from the underworld itself. When unleashed, its dark energy could engulf the skies, rot the land, and bring despair and death to all living things.
Those slain by it would become empty husks—soulless corpses that roamed without will.
Such a weapon Tōga would never wield lightly.
But for this man—for this one—Tōga would see him utterly destroyed, denied even the mercy of death.
A spiraling vortex of wind wrapped around the sword's blade, and then—burst outward.
"Hell Dragon Strike!"
A storm of demonic energy roared forth, shaped like a black tornado that tore across the earth. Against that apocalyptic force, Setsuna-no-Marumaru, a mere human, was nothing more than dust before the gale.
In an instant, he was engulfed. His scream was lost amid the roaring wind as his body was shredded into pieces, his armor scattered like broken shells across the snow.
Tōga immediately sealed Sō'unga back into its scabbard. The fury raging inside him had nearly driven him to lose control—to be overtaken by the ancient evil spirit bound within the blade. He had acted just quickly enough to suppress it.
Without delay, the Great Dog General turned and rushed back into the encampment, kneeling beside Princess Izayoi.
One of the Four Lords of the world—the ruler who had dominated the Western Lands for a century, the mighty yōkai who had carved an age of his own with three legendary blades—now revealed a side of himself no one had ever seen.
A fragile tenderness.
"Izayoi, are you unharmed?"
The mighty demon's voice, known throughout the Western Lands for its commanding tone, now carried an unfamiliar warmth—one born of genuine care.
"I've never seen that look on your face before... Tōga," Izayoi whispered softly. She lay in his arms, her delicate gaze meeting his—a gaze so gentle it could melt even the hardest steel. Tōga found himself unable to hold it for long.
"You are the strongest yōkai in the West. You shouldn't be wearing that expression."
"..."
Hearing her words, Tōga only tightened his embrace, his tone low and sorrowful. "This time... I fear I won't be able to protect you."
"You've already protected me so many times, Tōga~" Izayoi murmured softly, her voice filled with tenderness. Then, from within her arms, a sound broke through the quiet—a newborn's cry.
It was the cry of a small boy, his silver hair glimmering faintly under the moonlight, a pair of small dog ears twitching atop his head.
That single cry shattered the solemn stillness between them, flooding Tōga's heart with emotions he had never known.
Cradled gently in Izayoi's arms, the infant stirred. She looked down at him with a weak smile and whispered, "My love... give him a name."
"A name?" Tōga's golden eyes softened as he gazed upon the tiny, silver-haired child. After a brief silence, he spoke.
"Inuyasha. His name shall be Inuyasha."