The night wind, thick with the stench of blood and charred remains, drifted from the village at the foot of the mountain into the forest.
Five figures pushed through the woodland path. They stood less than three feet tall, their skin a filthy blue-gray, with unsightly tumors protruding from the sparse hair atop their heads. These were the common low-level yokai of this era—Azure Ghouls. They often served as lackeys to greater demons, sustaining themselves by raiding human settlements.
The ghoul in the lead clutched a severed human arm to its chest, bits of raw meat still clinging to its maw, its expression one of feral satisfaction.
"The path ahead is blocked."
The lead ghoul skidded to a halt, a low growl rumbling in its throat like a beast guarding its kill.
Standing directly in the middle of their only route back to their nest was a man.
He wore a set of battered red gusoku armor, the plates held together by crudely re-tied hemp ropes. His helmet was long gone, revealing a mane of pale, disheveled hair that framed a crimson demon mask.
He didn't breathe. His chest didn't rise or fall. A shroud of gray, deathly mist swirled around him, cold and stagnant.
A Ghost Warrior.
In this era where humans and monsters lived side-by-side, this was a specific type of undead existence. They were once human warriors of immense skill who, upon death, refused to enter the cycle of reincarnation due to lingering obsessions or excessive slaughter. Their souls forcibly absorbed the demonic energy of the world to reconstruct a physical shell. They retained the combat techniques of a human while possessing the unnatural physique of a yokai.
Typically, Ghost Warriors were silent killing machines.
But this one seemed to be missing a few screws.
The Ghost Warrior stood with his head bowed, his left thumb idly stroking the tsuba of the black katana at his waist. He was mumbling.
"I know you're a picky eater. That pig demon's blood last time was too greasy and grossed you out, but didn't I give you a full rust-removal and maintenance session afterward?"
The Azure Ghouls exchanged confused glances.
The Ghost Warrior didn't even look at them, continuing his conversation with the sword. "These guys tonight might just be small fry, but at least they're fresh. Besides, while the meat of an Azure Ghoul is sour, the resentment in their marrow is quite potent. I think you'll like that crunchy texture."
"What? You say you want a higher-class offering? Like the famous Shuten-doji?"
The Ghost Warrior sighed, tapping his fingers twice on the hilt. "We have to take things one step at a time. Your current sharpness isn't enough to cut through a Great Yokai's hide. Once you've finished this meal and our affection—I mean, our 'synchronization'—has increased, we'll go challenge the stronger ones. Be a good girl and stop being moody."
The lead Azure Ghoul felt insulted.
As creatures at the absolute bottom of the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons, they were indeed often viewed as cannon fodder by greater yokai. However, they were certainly not "ingredients" to be casually critiqued by a lunatic talking to a piece of steel.
"Kill him!"
The leader shrieked, tossing the severed arm aside and drawing a femur-bone club stained with dried blood. Its hind muscles tensed, and it lunged forward like a spring.
The other four ghouls followed suit, fanning out to the sides. This was their standard formation for hunting lone samurai.
Hikari Kanbe ceased his one-sided conversation with his weapon.
"It seems I don't need to do any more convincing. The meal is delivering itself."
He lifted his head. His pale face remained expressionless, but his eyes—pitch-black sclera with glowing crimson pupils—locked onto the approaching stench.
His perspective shifted instantly.
A semi-transparent panel, visible only to him, flickered into existence.
[Cursed Blade · Muramasa (Replica): Status – Hungry. Current Mood: Irritated.]
"What a high-maintenance lady," Hikari whispered, his center of gravity sinking low.
Facing the bone club swinging through the air, he didn't retreat. A Ghost Warrior's body had no need for breath, and thus, no need to "reset his pace."
His left thumb snapped against the guard, pushing the blade out an inch.
Clang—!
A clear, ringing sound like a dragon's cry shattered the silence.
Battōjutsu: Reverse Wind.
A jet-black arc of light traced an upward, counter-intuitive curve under the moonlight.
The leading Azure Ghoul was still in mid-air when its vision went dark. The hardened bone club and its "impenetrable" hide were as fragile as wet paper before that line of black.
The blade sliced through muscle and glided through the gaps in the bone without the slightest resistance.
Two halves of a corpse fell to the ground amidst a spray of blood.
Hikari flicked his wrist. Instead of sheathing the blade, he transitioned into a horizontal sweep.
"The first one. How's the taste?" he asked.
The katana named "Muramasa" trembled slightly. The dull hamon pattern on the blade flared with an eerie purple glow. The ghoul blood coating the steel was instantly absorbed, vanishing into the metal.
[Cursed Blade · Muramasa: Mood changed to 'Mildly Comforted.' Sharpness increased by 5%.]
Seeing their leader killed in an instant, the remaining four ghouls faltered, but fear quickly turned into feral desperation.
Two on the left opened their maws, spitting globs of green acid, while the two on the right dropped low, scurrying across the ground to attack Hikari's legs.
That was Corrosive Venom, the Azure Ghouls' only ranged attack, capable of melting ordinary iron armor.
Hikari didn't pull back; he lunged forward.
His straw sandals slammed into the earth, kicking up dirt as he turned into a blur, slicing toward the left.
[Ghost Step].
This was a skill he had developed himself—using a sudden burst of demonic energy to achieve near-teleportation speeds over short distances.
The two globs of acid hit empty air, sizzling as they dissolved the grass.
Hikari was already upon the two spitting ghouls.
He didn't use any flashy sword techniques, just a simple, honest Kesa-giri—a diagonal downward strike.
The blade fell.
The head of the ghoul on the left went flying.
Immediately, Hikari used the momentum of the swing to spin like a top. The blade traced a circle behind his back, precisely parrying a pair of claws lunging from behind.
Clang!
The sound of metal on bone rang out. The ghoul's claws were shattered by the impact. It screamed and tried to retreat, but the black katana followed it like a shadow.
Holding the blade with one hand, the tip trembling slightly, Hikari executed his own "My-Style" swordsmanship—The Thrust.
Puchi.
The tip of the blade pierced the ghoul's throat, pinning it to an old locust tree behind it.
"It's still warm. Eat up while it's fresh," Hikari told the sword before violently wrenching the blade out.
The corpse slumped down.
The final Azure Ghoul finally broke. It dropped its weapon, scrambled into the bushes, and began fleeing up the mountain on all fours.
"Don't let it get away. That's dessert."
Hikari's left hand formed a spell sign, a cluster of eerie blue ghost-fire coalescing at his fingertips.
Demon Art: Ghost-Fire Firefly.
Though it was a basic spell used for lighting and tracking, when bolstered by a Ghost Warrior's power, the flame shot out like a homing missile, latching onto the fleeing ghoul's back.
The fire flared up, and the ghoul tumbled with a shriek.
Hikari walked over at a leisurely pace.
The ghoul flipped over, shivering as it looked up at the approaching undead samurai, letting out pathetic whimpers for mercy.
Hikari raised the sword, inspecting the edge against the moonlight.
"You say you're still not full?"
He looked down at the monster.
"Sorry. My kid is still in her growing phase."
The blade fell.
A head rolled into the grass.
The forest returned to a dead silence, the scent of blood growing even heavier. Hikari shook off the last few drops of blood—though there wasn't much left, as most had been devoured by the steel.
He opened his system panel.
[Cursed Blade · Muramasa (Mass-Produced Model) has consumed the essence and blood of five Azure Ghouls.]
[Sharpness: 52 → 53]
[Affection: +5]
[Current Affection: 15 (Friendly)]
[Bond Dialogue Unlocked (1): It feels that while this low-grade blood is mediocre in taste, the quantity is satisfying. It hopes to try the blood of a human Exorcist with spiritual power next time.]
Hikari looked at the panel, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
"Exorcist blood is a bit too hot for the mouth; wouldn't want you to chip a tooth. Let's stick to the buffet for now."
He slowly sheathed the long blade.
Click.
The sound of the guard meeting the scabbard echoed clearly through the night.