The looming war between cats and dogs did not cast a shadow of dread over the Dog Clan fortress. On the contrary, the atmosphere was livelier than ever before.
Three elders of the Dog Clan stood quietly upon a high cliff, gazing down at two dog-demons locked in combat. In their eyes, different lights flickered.
Beneath the icy cliff, where icicles hung inverted like blades, the crimson hair-tips of Kujaku swept through the frigid wind, tracing arcs like blood-forged blades.
Balancing on a shard of frozen glasslike rock with one foot, her five fingers dangled loosely. At the tips of her claws gleamed three inches of golden light—proof that the Sankon Tessō had been driven to their utmost.
"Kujaku! Don't think that just because you've learned Lord Tōga's Sankon Tessō, and beaten a few others, you can strut around so arrogantly!"
Her opponent, Ibaramaru, who had long since taken human form and was only a hair's breadth from becoming a mid-level yōkai, shouted furiously. Two blue claw scars marked his face. Slamming his palms to the ground, he unleashed a surge of demonic energy.
The ice beneath them cracked in a spiderweb pattern. Dozens of ice spikes rose like vipers, lashing straight toward Kujaku.
The tips of those spikes gleamed with killing frost, as though they would pierce through her body in the next instant.
Among the hundreds of dog-demons watching, Seiten at the very front suddenly felt his heart clench.
After exhausting himself with matters of the Leopard Cat Tribe's Five Elders and their demonic-energy hearts, the developments of the past few days had left him utterly dumbfounded.
Every dog-demon once under Tōga's command had already taken human form. With Tōga's permission, Kujaku directly passed down the Sankon Tessō.
The others who saw this were not merely curious—more than that, a burning sense of rivalry flared within their hearts.
Thus, bouts of sparring began one after another. In this crucible of competition, Kujaku, relying on both talent and tireless effort, rose above the other low-level dog-demons.
"How laughable. Wasn't it you who challenged me first?"
Kujaku smirked coldly. Facing the barrage of ice spikes, her hands moved through the air as if plucking at an invisible harp.
Ten crescent-shaped golden claw marks shredded forth, tearing the ice spikes into countless glittering fragments that rained down like crystalline snow.
But the impact of the spikes and the clash of demonic energies left her face pale. Her fingers throbbed with pain, blood seeping from the tips.
Knowing her raw strength could not match Ibaramaru's, Kujaku wasted no time. Before he could channel more demonic energy, she stamped down hard, shattering the ice beneath her, and charged forward.
The Sankon Tessōs' destructive power was already well-known. Ibaramaru had no desire to test them with his own flesh.
He retreated swiftly, drawing an ordinary mortal-made katana from his waist. A flicker of helplessness flashed in his eyes.
Within the clan, the so-called Fangs Sword—weapons forged from the teeth of mid-level yōkai—were the pride of their kind. But most low-level yōkai had nothing beyond their own claws and mundane iron blades.
Yet weapons of common steel conducted demonic energy poorly. Unless aiming to master swordplay for the sake of future growth, few low-level dog-demons bothered with it at all.
A sharp series of cracks rang out—
kacha, kacha!
Under the golden gleam of Kujaku's claws, the katana twisted and broke like paper, collapsing into useless shards of scrap metal.
Fragments of the shattered blade scattered across the frozen ground, reflecting cold light.
Ibaramaru paled as Kujaku's eyes flashed crimson, trailing arcs of blood-colored light. In his mind replayed the sight of comrades torn apart by those golden claws, their flesh mangled beyond recognition.
'Damn it! If I cower now, I'll lose all my dignity. At worst, I'll just be bedridden for three or five days!'
Clenching his teeth, Ibaramaru thrust out his clawed hand, demonic energy surging.
But the instant his claws met hers, there came a dull, ripping sound—puh!
Like a blade stabbing into flesh, Kujaku's strike shredded his defense. Half of his body was torn apart in an instant, blood gushing like a spring, condensing into a crimson mist in the frigid air.
An instant later, her charging form smashed through the blood fog, scattering it into a storm of droplets.
"Victory! Kujaku, the Crimson Demon!"
The squad captain acting as referee bellowed the verdict, and the crowd of dog-demons roared with excitement.
Seiten stood dumbfounded, staring at Kujaku, who licked her bloodstained claws amid the crimson mist—sharp, fierce, radiant. His heart thumped wildly in his chest.
—I love this dog so much!
"Everyone can see it for themselves, can they not?"
The Great Elder clasped his hands behind his back, withdrawing his gaze from the arena below, satisfaction flickering in his expression.
He tilted his chin slightly, sweeping his eyes across the Second and Third Elders beside him, before continuing:
"The Sankon Tessō devised by Tōga—once spread through the clan will instantly raise the combat strength of our lower ranks."
"From the Humanization Method to the Sankon Tessō, our young hounds will wield greater strength than the Leopard Cat Tribe. With time, we'll leave them far behind."
"And this is only the beginning. Once Tōga develops techniques suited for our captains, that will mark the true rise of our clan!"
At this lofty proclamation, the one-armed Second Elder sat down on a rock. Gazing at the clouds adrift under the sunlight, his expression remained calm as he poured cold water over the mood:
"That much is true. But the brighter we burn, the more restless the Panther King will become. Even if our King allows it, can you truly balance such matters, Great Elder?"
He sighed heavily. "Our King's condition—you, I, and the Third Elder know it well."
Silence lingered for a time, until the Third Elder, Ziyan, broke it with a yawn.
"What's there to fear? Even if we hold back, do you think the Leopard Cat Tribe will stop targeting us? Better to keep some things secret!"
"In the end, strength is all that matters. Rather than dying stifled, I'd rather die charging forward, becoming stronger!"
The other two elders glanced at Ziyan's righteous resolve, and quickly adjusted their own stances.
"The Third Elder is right. We mustn't be overly optimistic—but neither can we wallow in pessimism."
The Great Elder stroked his beard thoughtfully, thinking of Tōga and his companions. Slowly, he said:
"As for this idea of keeping something hidden… I too have a plan. Once I've refined it, I'll share it with you both."
"As long as you have a plan, Great Elder."
The Second Elder extended his clawed hand. Golden arcs of crescent light ripped forth, gouging five scars deep into the nearby cliff face.
"The essence of the Sankon Tessō lies in the release and flow of demonic energy."
Shaking his head, he added with genuine awe:
"To be honest, I admire Tōga's mind. Who else could conceive such ingenious currents of demonic power? The circulation of these Claws differs from normal flow by just a sliver—and yet that sliver is an uncrossable chasm, turning frailty into overwhelming might."
His tone grew grave.
"Most importantly, along with the Humanization Method, as long as we keep these secrets from spreading, no one else can easily imitate them."
It is only uniqueness that carries true strategic value. And in that value, the three elders had already reaped no small share.