"As you can see, Abe no Seimei's greatest weapon right now is that Fantasy Tree he somehow managed to steal from who knows where. Without it, Seimei is nothing to this humble monk, even after devouring Chernobog and Itzpapalotl. He's just another overconfident fool, the sort I could crush with a snap of my fingers!"
Ashiya Douman's disdain was so thick you could feel it between his words, making Nura Rikuo and the others a little awkward.
"So…"
Rikuo paused, then spoke seriously. "If I cut down that tree, Limbo, you'll be able to defeat Seimei and save the world?"
"Wrong!"
Douman's sharp rebuke left Rikuo blinking in confusion.
What did I get wrong?
"It's you who'll be saving the world, not me. I couldn't care less about that—I'm only here to kill that bastard Abe no Seimei."
While Rikuo and the others silently wondered exactly what they'd said wrong, Douman's voice and expression were dead serious. "Don't get it twisted."
"Uh…"
Just how deep does your grudge against Abe no Seimei go…?
"We understand your feelings, ancestor, but please—could you avoid swearing in front of the younger generation?"
Keikain Seimei's ghost drifted over, smiling politely. "You might not care about how the juniors see you, but don't lead them down the wrong path."
He wasn't wrong, but Douman clearly didn't agree.
"Hm? What swearing? I'm just stating facts."
He shrugged. "Abe no Seimei's the child of a human and the yōkai Hagoromo-Gitsune—a half-human, half-yōkai. Calling him a 'hybrid' is the literal truth, isn't it? Besides… what's with the golden perm on a Japanese guy? When I first saw him, I thought some foreign poodle had turned into a monster. I seriously suspect he's got Western blood too—a mongrel among mongrels, the mutt of all mutts."
Ashiya Douman only ever got this wound up when talking about Abe no Seimei, making it hard for anyone to respond.
So Seimei's a "hybrid" in your eyes… then what does that make me?
I'm a quarter yōkai, three-quarters human…
"But… why me?"
Rikuo voiced his doubt. "Wouldn't it make more sense for you to do it? Honestly, Limbo, you're the only one I can see actually cutting down that tree. I don't have much confidence in myself."
Even if the planets orbiting the Fantasy Tree were just illusions, the tree itself was enormous. Compared to that, Rikuo's sword felt no more dangerous than a toothpick. How am I supposed to chop something like that…?
If anyone can, it's Douman.
"Hm, hmhmhmhm! Of course, I could destroy the Fantasy Tree myself… but even Seimei isn't dumb enough to let me get anywhere near what he considers his lifeline. Only you 'insignificant' people, the ones he's never spared a second glance, have a shot at getting close."
A sly smile crept across Douman's lips.
"It's time Abe no Seimei learned—ants, the very ones he's always looked down on, can bite surprisingly hard."
His smile faded as he continued: "But remember—what you see is only the Fantasy Tree's projection in this world. Its real body isn't so ridiculously huge. Hacking at the illusion won't do a thing. Worse, it'll just get Seimei's attention and earn you a bad ending."
"That's why I, this shikigami, am here. I'll use a spell to send you to where the real Fantasy Tree is. Rikuo, it's up to you to cut it down, weaken Seimei, and then—without the Fantasy Tree—he'll be at my mercy. The only thing left to decide is whether I grill or deep-fry the fish for maximum pain and the most delicious screams."
Everyone unconsciously pictured Douman in an apron, pressing Seimei onto a chopping board, pondering where to slice first. The image was weirdly funny.
"Of course, even if it's not as enormous as the illusion, cutting down the true Fantasy Tree with your sword still won't be easy… Here, give me your blade. I'll give it a buff."
Rikuo handed over Mikazuki Munechika without hesitation.
This sword had been passed down from his grandfather, Nurarihyon, and before that, his father, Nura Rihan. It was the heirloom of the Nura Clan's leaders, but originally it was forged by Keikain Seimei, then reforged by Keikain Akifusa, merging the hopes of all the Keikain to one day defeat Nue.
Handing it to Douman, the Keikain family's founder, didn't feel wrong at all.
Douman accepted the blade with a smile, running his left hand along the edge.
The air hummed, the blade ringing out, clear as spring water.
"Hmhmhmhm… A fine sword."
Douman offered genuine praise. "The forging is still a bit unrefined, the materials nothing special—but the weight of the intentions poured into it is impossible to ignore. There's a lot of potential here."
One of the Keikain onmyōji nearby, eyes gleaming, listened intently—Keikain Akifusa himself, the man who'd reforged Mikazuki Munechika.
As a child, Akifusa had been brilliant, upright, considered the perfect heir by many, and he'd expected it himself. But when Yura inherited the Keikain's ancestral shikigami, Bujin, tradition dictated the next head must be able to use it—so the role fell to Yura instead.
On the surface, Akifusa remained flawless, the model of a perfect successor, but inside, he could never let go of that loss. He fell into forbidden arts, was manipulated during the Kyoto battle, and finally, after being defeated by Ryuuji, repented deeply.
After the Kyoto incident, his sword-forging skills were recognized by Keikain Seimei, who personally taught him and entrusted him with reforging Mikazuki Munechika. What Akifusa had always wanted wasn't the title of head, but recognition—so when Seimei gave him that trust, Akifusa gave his all and proved himself worthy.
Now, as a rising star of the Keikain, he was taking part in the fight against the Mikado-in and Seimei. Here, once again, he found himself recognized—by none other than Ashiya Douman, the family's founder.
A few people cast jealous looks at Akifusa. Though he'd never have the status Seimei held in the Mikado-in, Douman was revered by the Keikain—having the founder's praise meant a lot.
Even if this ancestor had a bit too much of a "villainous" aura, his power to rival Seimei's had redeemed much in their eyes—and was even making him more popular.
"The material's not great. The simplest way to strengthen it is to add something better. I actually have something suitable… but…"
Rikuo and the others watched, wondering just how Douman planned to buff the blade.
And then—Douman did something that made every jaw drop.
"Hmhm… But the best material—is myself."
With that, Douman reversed his grip and stabbed Mikazuki Munechika into his own chest.
"Limbo!"
"Limbo-san!"
"Ancestor!"
They all cried out, but Douman, completely unconcerned, pulled the blade free.
"What are you so worried about? I said before, this is just a shikigami—if it dies, it's no big deal."
Anyone who'd yelled felt awkward as Douman's gaze swept over them.
Then Douman looked back at the sword.
"It's not my true body, but even my shikigami's heart-blood should be enough to empower this blade… Actually, if I used my real body, the sword might snap from the strain… Hmm, yes, shikigami blood is just right."
The process was quick. Before anyone had quite recovered from their embarrassment, it was done.
"With this blade, you'll be able to destroy the Fantasy Tree. Good luck, Rikuo—the whole village is counting on you… Not that you really need my encouragement; you're used to carrying heavy burdens."
With those words, Douman returned Mikazuki Munechika to Rikuo's hand.
"Next, I'll send you to where the real Fantasy Tree is. Be careful—even though Seimei might not care about an 'ant' like you, the Fantasy Tree itself has a will. If you get too close, it might fight back to protect itself."
Douman's obsidian eyes narrowed kindly as he smiled at Rikuo.
"Good luck."
The next moment, a slow-spinning magic circle appeared before him.
"By the progression of the nine celestial bodies, by the wandering of the Primordial..."
"Let the essence of the blossoms shine..."
"Let the primal spirit scatter..."
"By the force of the law, now—!"
Blinding light erupted from the spinning array, and Rikuo instinctively squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he found himself standing in a universe without end, surrounded by countless stars.
Space, to humans, is terrifying—most of what we know is useless here. There is no direction, time and space twist unpredictably.
But Rikuo didn't need to worry about losing his way. In this space, his target shone so brightly, it was impossible to miss—the very center of everything.
He gripped Mikazuki Munechika tightly. The coolness of the hilt against his palm gave him a little comfort.
Determination filled Rikuo.
When Douman showed up, I thought I'd already lost my place in this fight… It was a miserable feeling. You know how I feel, don't you, Mikazuki Munechika?
The supposedly lifeless blade suddenly thrummed, a clear, cheerful sound—almost as if it was answering him.
"Getting excited, aren't you, Mikazuki? Let's go together—let's put an end to Seimei's wicked ambitions!"
With a soft laugh, Rikuo strode forward toward the looming Fantasy Tree.
Although everything around him looked like outer space, there was air and gravity—he could walk freely, as if still on Earth. The starfield felt like an impossibly vivid projection.
Worried about the battle outside, worried Douman wouldn't be able to hold out long, Rikuo unconsciously sped up, breaking into a run toward the Fantasy Tree.
Suddenly, he stopped dead, eyes going wide with shock.
In front of him, countless branch-like "ribbons" of light wove a dense, impenetrable web, barring his path.
And before that web, a lone figure stood, silently waiting, eyes cold as winter—mirroring Rikuo's own grim determination.
"…You are—"
Teeth clenched, Rikuo shouted the name of his adversary.
"Abe no Kippei!"
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T/N: tbh this arc might be my favorite... also nurahiyon has some hot ass men... olalala