After arguing back and forth for a while, Ibaraki-dōji was becoming increasingly confused.
There was a theory that Ibaraki-dōji was actually a woman—and even Shuten-dōji's wife.
...Could he really be a fake?
SMACK!
Ibaraki slapped himself hard across the face, finally snapping out of it.
TM's sake, he was the real Ibaraki-dōji! All those legends were the fakes—wild fabrications based on his image! That nonsense about dressing as a woman to seduce Watanabe no Tsuna, or getting his arm chopped off by the guy? Utter fiction!
Clearly, the oni girl in front of him was the imposter!
Once that was clear, Ibaraki's fury ignited. He wanted nothing more than to tear this name-stealing fake into pieces.
"Get her! Crush that bastard!"
"ROAAAR!!"
Though Ibaraki was convinced the girl was a disgraceful counterfeit, he had to admit—she was strong. She lacked finesse, relying purely on brute force, but that sheer violence alone was enough to cause catastrophic destruction.
At his command, a horde of hellish demons howled in unison. Malevolent yōki rolled in like thunderclouds, turning the sky dark.
They were numerous, fearless—and some of their auras weren't much weaker than Ibaraki's own.
Had this been in the mortal world, this force would have been nothing short of formidable.
Yet as he watched the oncoming storm of demon troops kicking up dust as they charged, Ibaraki didn't seem all that concerned.
"A pack of puny little brats… daring to bare their fangs at me, the great oni of Mt. Ōe?"
A wicked, bloodthirsty grin curled her lips.
"You've got some balls, don't you, you damn vermin?"
She drove her jagged bone-blade into the ground, inhaled deeply, and—
"ROAAAAAARRRR—!!"
The roar thundered out with overwhelming force, stirring the air into translucent shockwaves that shattered the ground. Shards of rock flew outward, carried by the rippling blast.
Naturally, a roar alone wouldn't be enough to make these hardened demons retreat. But when that roar was laced with the blood-pressure of a superior, one bearing the same royal oni lineage, it was another matter entirely.
The lesser demons' minds blanked out under the pressure. Some of the stronger ones collapsed to their knees, unable to resist the instinctual urge to submit.
Among them... was Ibaraki-dōji.
His knees cracked the ground as he fell. His face turned ashen, cold sweat pouring down like rain. His blood felt like it was boiling.
That was… the blood of an even higher oni.
A true King of Oni—whose roar alone could make all demons kneel and surrender without resistance.
"What, seriously? You're all kneeling?"
Rather than pleased, Ibaraki scowled in irritation as she watched the horde abandon the will to fight.
"Not a single one of you even dares resist? Pathetic! Spineless! Weaklings who can't even withstand my pressure have no right to fight me! Useless… boring… infuriating!"
Like a tantrum-throwing child, she swept her arm and unleashed a blazing fire dragon, reducing a chunk of the demon horde to ash.
"Ughhh… Crushing enemies who've lost the will to fight is so dull. The flesh of the weak reeks of rot. I just wanted a good, cathartic brawl… Is there nobody left who can give me a proper fight?!"
Just then, a flicker of intent made Ibaraki turn.
And there—struggling back to his feet—was the other Ibaraki-dōji.
A glint of savage joy lit up Ibaraki's eyes.
"Oh? You're still standing? Still got some fight in you?"
The flames at her feet surged higher, the scorched red earth melting into molten lava.
When the other Ibaraki drew his long blade, the wild grin on Ibaraki's face widened.
"Straighten that spine. A true oni knows no fear—no humility. I like that. You've piqued my interest. So—let me hit you with this."
He raised his right hand. Fire and demonic energy swirled toward it like a vortex.
"Kehehe..."
"The right arm that I once lost to fiendish schemes is now back as a monstrosity."
"Go, Sogen-bi!"
"[The Great Grudge of Rashomon]!!"
It was enough heat and power to turn a city into ash, and Ibaraki-dōji was ready—prepared to die if it meant enduring this attack.
But then—a shadow dropped from the sky, kicking up a storm of dust and interrupting the technique.
The shadow had landed squarely on Ibaraki's head.
"Cough! Cough!"
Choking on the dust, Ibaraki-dōji looked up.
And when the dust settled, what he saw left him utterly speechless.
"Naa~ Ibaraki… Didn't I tell you? I hate being woken up mid-nap. You think you can ignore me and make all this racket anyway? Getting bold, aren't we~?"
A girl stood there barefoot atop Ibaraki's head, short purple hair framing her face, a scandalously cut purple kimono clinging to her body. Like Ibaraki, she had horns curling from her forehead. Her right hand held an absurdly large sake cup, and she reeked of alcohol so intensely that an ordinary human would be blackout drunk just catching a whiff ten meters away.
With dainty toes like polished pearls, she idly scratched Ibaraki's cheek.
Her voice… it was like venomous wine—sweet and intoxicating, yet fatally dangerous.
Hearing her voice, Ibaraki visibly shuddered, paling as he croaked in fear:
"Shu-Shuten…?!"
"Fufufufu~ Ibaraki, you're such a naughty little thing. Like a child who'll never grow up… So, what'll it be? Should I dig out your bones or skewer your brain~?"
"HIIIII—!!"
There wasn't even a trace of killing intent in Shuten's voice. But Ibaraki was utterly terrified.
Because Shuten-dōji… was the kind of creature who lived entirely by whim. Maybe she was joking. Or maybe the next second, she'd follow through and kill you for real. And then—just as casually—resurrect you after pulling out your liver.
That was why, even though Shuten didn't burn with mad bloodlust like Ibaraki, she was far more frightening.
"Just kidding~ I'm not really gonna kill you. Geez, you're shaking so much it's almost cute."
She watched her like she was enjoying a play, smiling in satisfaction. Then tipped back her cup for a long sip. A rosy flush spread across her cheeks.
Lowering her foot, she stepped onto the gravel-strewn ground without a care, then glanced at the quivering demon mob.
"So while I was catching up on sleep, you were playing with these little guys, huh? Some of them look kinda sturdy... Shame I'm not really in the mood to eat kin today. Maybe I'll just debone them and pickle them in wine. Save them for later…"
As she stroked her cheek, she made a thoughtful face.
"What a pity… If only there were some handsome guys around. If I had some eye candy, I might get my appetite back a little. Then I could cook him too—as a side dish for my sake. Fufufu~"
Her words were absurd, dreamlike, as if uttered by a drunk with no sense of logic or restraint.
When Ibaraki said "Shuten", Ibaraki-dōji had already entered a full-blown existential crisis.
Shuten-dōji. That was the name of Ibaraki-dōji's father.
After Abe no Seimei had killed Shuten, Ibaraki had dug up his father's bones and worn them as a mask, declaring himself the eternal gravestone of his father.
Yōkai do fall to hell after death, so seeing his father in hell wasn't impossible...
But there was no way his old man died, only to come back as a scantily clad, booze-sloshing oni loli, right?!
The problem was—aside from the gender, this woman did match the image of Shuten-dōji. She drank like a whale and did whatever the hell she wanted.
More importantly—her aura as the Oni King was even stronger than the blonde girl claiming to be Ibaraki! She didn't need to roar to command respect; just standing there made every demon yield. Hell, she could probably just say a word and the lot of them would offer up their lives.
"What're you thinking about, little one?"
"!!!"
Startled out of his daze, Ibaraki-dōji found Shuten already in front of him. Her cold little fingers lifted his chin, her intoxicating smile more deadly than any poison.
"I'm standing right here, and you're thinking about something else? That hurts my feelings… Maybe I'll just cut off your head so your gaze never leaves me."
She spoke it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Ibaraki-dōji had never seen a purer "oni" than Shuten—one whose overwhelming presence crushed all resistance from every demon around.
And then, she brushed her hand across the bone plate he wore on his face.
"This thing on your face... It's caught my interest."
Shuten gave a childlike, innocent smile, asking out of simple curiosity, "Mind telling me what it is? It smells kinda familiar."
"..."
Ibaraki-dōji frowned deeply, hesitating.
Then she said softly—
"If you don't tell me, I'll kill you. …Want some sake?"
With that, she tilted her cup closer to him.
The topic change was so abrupt it left Ibaraki-dōji frozen. But the instant that pungent wine hit his nose, he shook his head violently in refusal.
Even just smelling it earlier had made his bones feel like jelly, like he was drifting in outer space...
Was that stuff even drinkable?!
"Ahhh, too bad. This is a rare vintage, you know. Just one sip, and you'll taste sweetness that melts your bones and soul alike. Compared to that, even death doesn't sound so scary~"
Tipping her head back, Shuten poured the sake down her throat. Crystal-clear droplets slid from her lips, trailing down her swan-white neck, soaking her chest and leaving a dark, suggestive stain.
Then she lifted her thumb, wiped her mouth, and licked the alcohol from her hand with a sinful little slurp.
Every move she made oozed dangerous seduction.
When she looked at him through hazy, drunken eyes, Ibaraki-dōji's mouth moved on its own.
"This was my father's... After Shuten-dōji died, I used his bones to make this mask—an eternal gravestone. I will live on, and one day create the oni world we dreamed of… Until then, I… am my father's undying tomb."
"…Ohhh. No wonder the scent was familiar. So that was my bone, huh?"
Shuten took another sip. The wine still hadn't diminished, as if it were endless.
"I'm usually the one pulling bones outta people, and now it's my turn? Good thing that milk cow Minamoto no Raikō isn't here—she'd be on the floor laughing so hard she'd pull a muscle."
She looked at Ibaraki-dōji like a predator mulling over the best spot to take a bite.
"Shuten! Look out!"
With a sudden roar, the blonde Ibaraki burst out from underground, fiery wings spreading wide. Her bone-blade surged with molten fury, filling the sky with flame.
"Spear-Bough of Plum!"
A blur of slashes tore through the flames, delicate yet lethal like branching tree limbs. The firestorm shattered, exposing Ibaraki's stunned face.
"You…!"
"You do possess flames that can scorch the earth," a cold voice replied. "But against true skill, such brute force is a waste."
The sword technique shifted—now like cherry blossoms dancing in the breeze.
"Spear-Bough of Sakura."
Even faster than before!
The blade's path was invisible, like she'd stepped into a meat grinder. Blood bloomed in the air with every blow.
Suddenly, the flurry stopped.
Kintōmaru's eyes widened in shock.
Of the two blades she'd used—one was caught in Ibaraki's hand. The other… was clenched between her teeth.
Her flame-bright eyes reflected his stunned face, and she wore a triumphant grin as if to say:
"Got you."
A heartbeat later, her bone-blade carved through the air in a blaze, aiming to slice Kintōmaru clean in half.
---
T/N: holy shit this was confusing as hell to TL...