The Land of Demons' Shrine.
Heavy dark clouds loomed low, suffocating the air, completely replacing the faint sandalwood incense that usually lingered around the shrine with the stench of iron and sweat.
Outside the shrine, a dense army of soldiers surrounded the forest-enshrouded sanctuary, blocking all paths leading to it.
These soldiers were ordinary men, clad in standardized armor, primarily consisting of spearmen and archers, with few cavalry among them.
Their faces bore traces of reverence toward the shrine, mixed with nervous tension.
The air was thick with the smell of cheap tobacco, the pungency of leather, and the stale odor of countless gathered bodies.
Horses snorted restlessly, their iron-shod hooves occasionally clattering against the stone pavement, adding to the oppressive atmosphere with sharp, grating sounds.
Inside the shrine, the mood was even more stifling, frozen like ice.
The nominal ruler of this land, Priestess Miroku, sat upright on a cushion in the main hall. Her pristine white shrine maiden robes were spotless, but they only made her pallor appear even more pronounced.
Her gaze remained calm, like the depths of an unfathomable ancient well, yet beneath that serenity lay profound worry and a cold trace of betrayal.
Several burly, fierce-looking samurai, clearly private soldiers of the nobility, stood guard at the hall's entrance and beside Miroku, their hands never leaving the hilts of their swords. Their eyes gleamed with the predatory intensity of wolves eyeing their prey.
Though this was an era dominated by Ninjas, samurai had not completely vanished.
Apart from the Land of Iron, which still maintained a sizable samurai army, the Daimyo of other nations also kept samurai in their employ, whether as symbols of prestige or enforcers. Against ordinary people or even rebellious civilians, samurai were far cheaper to hire than Ninjas.
Footsteps echoed deliberately heavy through the empty hall.
The Land of Demons' Daimyo, Hama Shun, strode in, flanked by a crowd of nobles. (T/N: Just at Chapter 107, it's said that the Land of Demons doesn't have Daimyo, but now, there's Daimyo here.)
Clad in opulent deep-purple robes, his plump face feigned concern, but his beady eyes flickered with greed and cruelty.
The nobles behind him, their bloated bodies wrapped in silks, wore expressions ranging from arrogance to unease to schadenfreude… all unmistakably lusting for power and relishing the suppression of the priestess's authority.
Their overwhelming perfumes and powders mingled into a nauseatingly cloying stench.
"Miroku-sama." Hama Shun's voice was deliberately gentle, yet laced with unyielding coercion.
"Your recent actions of sending people to investigate the Land of Stars have caused great unrest among the people." He paced slowly, his pudgy fingers unconsciously rubbing the jewel-encrusted hilt of the dagger at his waist.
"Some words are best kept private. Yet you've shown such keen interest in that rebellious nation formed by traitors. Tsk tsk… isn't that going too far?"
He stopped before Miroku, leaning slightly forward, his shadow looming over her as his voice dropped lower, turning even more sinister: "Do you realize how quickly the rumors spread among the commoners after your priests and attendants brought back tales from the Land of Stars? That nation's seditious ideas are undermining the very foundation of our Land of Demons!!"
Miroku slowly lifted her gaze, meeting Hama Shun's calculating eyes with tranquil resolve.
"I merely sought to understand what was happening in the Land of Stars."
Her voice was ethereal yet firm, like the chime of a sacred bell resonating clearly through the oppressive hall, carrying an air of divine authority.
"As for the commoners flocking to the Land of Stars, Hama-sama, and all of you present, shouldn't that question be directed at yourselves?"
"At us?!" A hawk-nosed noble beside her couldn't hold back a shrill laugh, spittle nearly staining Miroku's immaculate robes.
"The real problem is you spouting heresy here! What do those lowborn fools know? Without us nobles, they wouldn't even get to eat warm shit!"
"Miroku, know your place! You're just a priestess serving the gods. Stick to your rituals and pacifying the ignorant masses… that's all you're good for!"
"State affairs are none of your concern!"
The nobles clamored loudly, hurling insults at Miroku.
"Enough!" Hama Shun suddenly raised his hand, silencing the nobles' uproar, but the chill in his expression deepened.
He stared at Miroku, the last shred of feigned patience vanishing.
"Miroku-sama, it seems you remain obstinate. For the stability of the Land of Demons, for its security, I must ask you to 'meditate' within this shrine for the time being."
He turned to the samurai in the hall and barked, "From this moment onward, no one enters or leaves the shrine without my permission! No messages are to be delivered!"
His glare swept over them as he snarled, "Guard the Priestess well! If anything goes wrong, I'll have your heads!"
"Yes!" The samurai knelt in unison, the scabbards clashing with each other, making threatening sounds.
The nobles' faces twisted in triumph.
Though the Priestess was nominally the ruler of the Land of Demons, she had always remained in this shrine, never holding real power or interfering in governance. Yet her prestige among the people was so immense that even the Daimyo had to address her with reverence.
Now, they had finally found an excuse to weaken her authority and status… how could the nobles not rejoice?
As the nobles escorted the daimyo out of the shrine, the heavy doors slammed shut behind Miroku, cutting off the last sliver of daylight… and her freedom.
Only the samurai's rough breathing remained in the hall.
Miroku closed her eyes, her hands clenched tightly within her wide sleeves, nails digging into her palms.
She could clearly 'see' it… a dark Chakra, brimming with hatred and destruction, seething from the depths of the earth, ready to awaken.
And the Daimyo and nobles of the Land of Demons would all fall victim to Moryo's slaughter!
She must… she must get the message out!
She must stop its resurrection!
Night fell, and the darkness became the perfect cover for despair.
On a hidden, moss-slicked path behind the shrine, a figure darted like a frightened tanuki, desperately weaving through jagged rocks and dense thickets.
Ashigami, Miroku's most trusted priest and a member of the clan that had guarded the Priestess for generations, had long discarded his solemn priestly robes, now clad in coarse, mud-stained clothing.
Tucked tightly against his chest was a secret letter written by Miroku using an ancient technique… stained with the blood from her fingertips. The cold parchment pressed against his skin, carrying with it the faintest spark of hope.
He dared not take the main roads, forcing himself through the wild, treacherous mountains.
Thick branches whipped against his face and body, leaving bloody scratches. The slippery moss and loose stones beneath his feet nearly sent him tumbling multiple times, each near-fall making his heart leap into his throat.
In the distance, the shouts of patrolling soldiers and the baying of hunting dogs echoed. Every time the sounds drew near, his hair stood on end, and he would throw himself deeper into the shadows, curling up and holding his breath until the danger passed before resuming his desperate flight.
Sweat soaked through his rough clothes, mixing with dirt and grass, clinging to his skin in a cold, sticky film.
The stench of rotting leaves and animal dung in the mountains became the only backdrop to his escape.
Boom-!!!
A deafening roar, as if the heart of the earth itself had been crushed, suddenly erupted from the direction of the Demon City!
Even from such a distance, the shockwave sent vibrations through Ashigami's feet, making them go numb!
He whipped his head around, only to see the night sky over the Demon City dyed in an ominous, blood-like crimson glow. At its center, countless twisted, shrieking black shadows writhed wildly, as if a gate to another world had been flung open!
A wave of Chakra… so cold, so evil, so full of boundless hatred, swept across the entire Land of Demons like a tangible gust of freezing wind, chilling the soul itself!
"Agh—!"
Ashigami was struck by the residual evil Chakra, instantly feeling as if he had plunged into an icy abyss. His vision darkened, nausea surged, and his legs nearly gave out.
He stared in horror at the Demon City, his mind filled with nothing but terror and despair, "That presence… Someone released it?! It's over!"
Without another second of hesitation, Ashigami fled toward the Land of Stars.
…
After an unknown amount of time, Ashigami finally arrived at the Land of Stars.
City of Stars.
He didn't know how he got here.
The exhaustion from his journey, the terror of what he had witnessed, and the lingering effects of that evil Chakra left his mind in chaos. The only thing he remembered was encountering a border patrol from the Land of Stars during his escape, who had detained him.
Now, he was half-carried, half-dragged toward a massive gate.
On both sides of the door stood two silent Hoshigakure's Anbu. They were wearing deep-blue uniforms so dark they were nearly black. Their faces were concealed behind white animal masks, revealing only sharp, hawk-like eyes. Their very presence exuded a chilling aura.
The gate slid open soundlessly, and Ashigami was ushered inside. Stumbling forward, he barely managed to steady himself.
An even more oppressive, overwhelming presence instantly crushed down on him, stealing his breath.
The hall was vast, its towering ceiling lost in shadow. The floor, polished smooth as a mirror, reflected the faint light filtering down from above.
At the far end, atop a flight of steps, stood a black throne.
A figure sat there casually, his face hidden behind the infamous white three-eyed fox mask… its hollow eyeholes like abysses gazing down at Ashigami.
Ashigami's entire body trembled violently. The exhaustion from his flight, the horror of the Demon City's catastrophe, and now the overwhelming pressure of standing before this legendary figure shattered his will completely.
His legs went weak and he collapsed to his knees, his forehead slamming against the cold, unyielding obsidian floor with a dull thud. Sweat, grime, and blood from his brow mixed together in a wretched mess.
"L-Lord…!"
Ashigami's voice was hoarse, broken, on the verge of sobbing. With shaking hands, he pulled out the crumpled, sweat-stained, blood-smeared letter from his chest and raised it high above his head like a final, desperate plea.
"The daimyo and nobles of the Demon Capital have imprisoned Miroku-sama! Someone took advantage of the chaos and broke Moryo's seal! The Land of Demons is in ruins!"
"Please…! Save Miroku-sama! Save the Land of Demons!!"