In a certain ancient mound—
"Fuuuhahaha! Everything is arranged to perfection! Come, let us begin! What covers the night and sings to the darkness are the countless monsters of the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons! Utilizing the craft of I, Abe no Seimei, displacing the swarms of the night is simple—truly, undeniably simple! Nnn-nnn-nnn…!"
"…"
"My, Kokujo. Returned so soon?"
"Indeed. Be absolutely certain that…"
"I know, I know! You had best ensure you make no blunders yourself—"
"…"
"Now! Come, come, come, come, come! Open, cauldrons of Hell! Fill the earth, hideously vile spirits! Thus, manifest before us—"
The talismans bound to the dragon veins across the land became the very gateways summoning them forth.
"Now—!! Unleash them!"
Here, a gruesome banquet began—!
Chapter: Dual Blades Above Evil
"Hey, you back? I finished maintenance on your wet-nurse sword. Here, take it."
Rikka had ridden hard on horseback to reach the hermitage. Leaving Ruler outside to keep watch over the perimeter, she stepped inside where Muramasa waited. The first thing handed to her was Dōjigiri Yasutsuna—one of the two grand champions of East and West entrusted to her.
"Don't worry, I didn't cleanse the lingering thoughts on it… or rather, your mother's thoughts. I just let the blade rest a bit and gave it a proper sharpening."
"Thank you, Grandpa!"
The moment she held it, she could feel its purity. A protective Heian blade meant to slay and purify all manner of strange occurrences and crush any enemy, harboring her mother's divinity… It was the most trustworthy, magnificent sword in the world to her.
"Let's work together again, Mother."
She carefully stored it within the mud—maintaining a system where she could draw it at a moment's notice, keeping her mother's warmth close at all times.
"…"
As Muramasa handed it back, the heartwarming expression on his face suddenly darkened, twisted by visible torment. Noticing his bitter silence, as if he found his next words too painful to speak, she asked gently:
"What's wrong, Grandpa?"
"…Yeah. Well, this'll be faster if you just look for yourself."
Slapping his knees, he stood up as if reminding himself that making a child worry was poor form.
"Wait right there for a second."
With a harsh slide of the shoji screen, Muramasa retreated into his workshop. Tilting her head in confusion over what could have happened, Rikka held Yasutsuna once more, gazing at it absently.
"…"
…Recalling what Yori had told her, she sank into deep thought, reconfirming her reason for fighting. Before long, Muramasa returned.
"I told you I'd forge a sword for you. …I was full of drive, but… 'Sorry. I went and made a masterwork of a failure.'"
Brought out with that bizarre phrasing were two blades. One was a tachi harboring an almost terrifying degree of divine aura. The other was an abnormal tachi—its hilt blood-stained red, its sheath as black as lacquer.
"Maybe I got too inspired by touchin' a treasure among treasures like Dōjigiri Yasutsuna. Forget what I said about makin' everything from a short sword to a tachi. 'This is a failure, and I can't make anything better than it.'"
Muramasa's phrasing was peculiar. A failure, yet something he couldn't surpass even if he wished to.
"Did I tell you my philosophy? Guess I didn't. …The sword I aim to make is one capable of 'settling karma.'"
"Settling… karma?"
"Yeah. Pursuin' raw sharpness, cuttin' flesh or armor—any old axe or kitchen knife can do that. That won't do. A sword forged by a fool who devoted his entire life to the blade can't be satisfied with just that. What I aim for is settling fate itself. Unseen things, yet absolute necessities in this world. Cutting through ties, grudges, rancor, all of it—forging the ultimate single strike. That's my goal."
Severing fate, grudges, and karma… But what connection did that have with these two swords?
"Like I said, it's a failure—startin' with this one."
He casually picked up the exquisitely delicate sword he deemed a failure. Just looking at it revealed its nature—a sheathed blade radiating 'awe,' the divine majesty of a god of Japan.
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