Tōran stood ready for battle. Her long, ice-blue hair streamed in the wind, and her deep violet robes flared like a banner—a war flag unfurled against the sky.
She lifted her chin and gazed upward. From the west, black clouds rolled in like a surging tide, spreading at a speed visible to the naked eye, blotting out the heavens.
The heavy snowfall had already ceased the day before.
Now the snow beneath her feet, softened by sunlight and thaw, crunched with each step.
Though the sky was gray and the earth lay in white silence, the Leopard Cat yōkai's spirits shone bright as sunrise. Their hearts leapt, as if awaiting the curtain to rise on some great festival—one in which they themselves would play the lead.
Tōran stood before the outpost's earthen platform, eyes sharp as an eagle's. She surveyed her comrades and subordinates below, their demonic auras stirring with restless anticipation. In her mind, she weighed their combined strength.
"Shunran isn't suited for head-on battle, but her support is vital. She can conceal the main force from the dogs' noses and eyes, letting us strike at their very doorstep."
"Karan and Shūran both rank above average among our captains. True, Karan's powers falter in this weather, and she won't be at full strength…"
"But with me here, there's no problem."
The corners of Tōran's lips curved upward beneath her high-bridged nose, brimming with unshakable confidence.
"Victory will be ours."
And then—
Her gaze flickered briefly to the clouds above. Last night, Elder Chiyan had appeared to her without warning, startling her half to death.
That such a high-ranking elder would involve herself in a mere raid against a small dog-demon outpost had left Tōran both shocked and delighted.
She could guess the reason. After all, her little sister Karan was Elder Chiyan's favorite among the younger generation, and the one most likely to break through into the ranks of high-class yōkai.
Now that they were marching across cat territory toward the dogs' lands, it was only natural for the elder—so protective of her bloodline—to come and lend her weight.
"I, Tōran, am no less. Shunran and Shūran, too, have the potential to rise as elders."
"From this day forward, let the name of the Leopard Cat Four Heavenly Kings [Panther Devas] resound across the land."
Countless thoughts spun through her mind in the space of mere seconds.
Meeting the burning gazes of her kin, she strode forward, raised her arm with strength, and in a voice sharp as frost yet ringing with a warrior's boldness, shouted:
"Comrades! With me—strike the dog-demon clan! Let the yōkai of the Western Lands see that this vast earth still belongs to the Leopard Cat Tribe, to roam and rule as we please!"
"Ooooooh!"
"Meooww!"
The Leopard Cats answered with deafening roars, their voices brimming with hunger for battle and the certainty of victory.
At Shunran's command, scattered demonic auras surged as though seized by an unseen hand, weaving together into a veil of white mist. It cloaked their presence, hiding them from sight.
Beneath the dark sky, through frost-laden forests, the forty-strong company of panther demons sprinted northward, toward the dogs' mountain outpost.
Only the trail of footprints in the snow bore witness to their passing.
High above, a slender figure unfurled a crimson barrier to mask her presence.
Her aura radiated power. Crimson fur armored her vital points, her form carrying both the leopard's wild ferocity and the cat's graceful poise.
Her movements swayed with a dancer's elegance, like a flame blooming in the sky.
Elder Chiyan looked down upon Tōran and the others, her scarlet eyes gradually warming with approval.
"The dogs only rose because fortune allowed one of their kind to ascend as a king. That will not happen again. From here on, it is our Leopard Cat Tribe who will stand unrivaled among the young."
Her hand brushed her snowy chest, tracing the savage claw mark carved across it—a wound that had nearly torn out her heart, a scar of eternal humiliation.
That scar had been given by the Great Dog Demon himself.
Her lips, red as fire, parted to spit words colder than ice:
"Old dogs, cling to your love for your pups—and watch as they are dragged into hell!"
With that, Elder Chiyan vanished into the storm clouds, shadowing Tōran's force.
Halfway up the mountain, the dogs' outpost lay quiet.
Within it stood Tōga, silent and still. The blue glow in his eyes faded, like stars hidden by passing clouds.
He tilted his head slightly, gaze sharp as a blade, settling on the two figures at his side.
One was his master—the Great Elder of the dog clan. In all the Western Lands, his strength and reputation were unmatched, the very pillar of their people.
The other was the Second Elder: a man with the stern, stone-hewn face of middle age. His aura radiated unyielding authority, like a mountain unmoved by storms.
His left sleeve fluttered empty in the wind, a mute banner mourning his loss. Ten years ago, in a great war, the Leopard Cat Tribe's Third Elder had torn his arm away. Yet the wound had not diminished him—only sharpened the battle-lust in his eyes.
Tōga drew a deep breath, his expression heavy yet resolute.
"The leopard cats are on the move. I must trouble you, Elders, to remain hidden near me and Lady Shirayuki. Wait for the moment to strike."
"No problem," the Second Elder replied, one brow arched, a glint of cold fury in his eyes. His voice cut like the winter wind."Last time, I lost an arm. This time, I'll claim one of their elders in return."
The Great Elder nodded slightly, gaze iron-strong."Do not fear, Tōga. Today marks the end of Chiyan and her whelps. Victory is certain."
Tōga did not doubt their words. These were no empty boasts, but the unshakable truth born of strength.
His strategy was simple. Shunran's illusions could deceive ordinary dog-demons' senses—but not his own Celestial Sight.
The moment the Leopard Cats moved, he had already deployed three patrol squads to lie in ambush around the mountain's base, with only Shirayuki and two captains by his side.
All was prepared, awaiting the moment to spring their trap upon Tōran, who thought her plan flawless.
When the two elders slipped from view, Tōga turned his gaze to Shirayuki.
The girl sat serene, her beauty cool as moonlight. Her golden eyes shimmered like starlight. Before Tōga could even speak, she raised her chin proudly and said:
"That so-called Tōran—I'll deal with her."
Her golden irises shone with inborn pride and confidence.
On the battlefield, soldiers clashed with soldiers, generals with generals. Such was the unspoken law of war.
Tōran and her three siblings were the core of the Leopard Cats' strength. Naturally, they must be met by the dog clan's captains.
Shirayuki's eagerness was no surprise—for Tōga himself had said Tōran was the strongest of their foes.
And Shirayuki, the young lady of the dogs, had never once bowed her head to anyone but the one she had already chosen.
Never weaker. Never second.