Chapter 27: When the Time Comes, Heaven and Earth Work Together
The Kamaitachi's momentum was forcibly broken.
It dodged left and right, weaving through a sudden storm of 'enemies' that had erupted from the tranquil village.
The assault was intensifying.
The gnarled branches of the old locust tree spread out like a living screen, catching the wind and disrupting its flow. Though the Kamaitachi's gale was immense, the countless gaps between leaves and twigs perfectly diverted its force.
A great boulder, dislodged from its ancient resting place, rolled ponderously to block the yokai's path. It was slow, but its sheer volume was a significant nuisance.
Water droplets arced from the village well, splashing and scattering across the battlefield. Their penetrating power was nowhere near enough to pierce the Kamaitachi's fur, but the thick moisture they introduced made the very air feel heavy and resistant.
Timber from an abandoned, dilapidated hut flew through the air, shooting in all directions. The rotten wood couldn't possibly harm a yokai that had undergone a Qualitative Transformation, but the planks rushed forward one after another, as if tireless in their assault.
Even a discarded hoe had somehow propped itself up. It trembled with effort, unable to even graze the Kamaitachi's flank, yet it strained as if its existence depended on it. It stood like a strange weather vane, pointing directly at the yokai's core.
"What in the world is going on!?" the Kamaitachi's voice rasped, a cocktail of confusion and rising fury.
It was the wind. It controlled the wind. In theory, anything caught in its gales should have been an extension of its will, a tool for it to command.
But these things… they were resisting.
Their feeble power wasn't enough to truly hurt it, but it was undeniably stalling its advance.
Hikaru watched the numbers jumping on the translucent panel only he could see.
[The Old Locust Tree: Favorability 15. It is trying its best to block the enemy. It wants you to know that in two hundred years, you are the first person to speak to it every day, and it is very happy.]
[The Wayside Stone: Favorability 21. It is rolling as hard as it can. It says it is only a rock and cannot do much, but it is deeply satisfied to be of help.]
[The Forgotten Well: Favorability 18. It is spraying water with all its might. It indicates that this is the first time it has felt useful since it was dug, even if not for drawing water.]
Reading the notifications, a strange, moving warmth bloomed in Hikaru's chest.
This was the effect of favorability.
None of these objects had reached the level required to unlock a talent—that demanded a full 100 points. But as long as their favorability was high enough, they would respond to his call.
It was an incredible phenomenon. These things were not yokai. They possessed no consciousness, no thoughts, and couldn't even be considered 'alive' in the most basic sense of the word.
And yet… they were 'breathing,' too.
This was the secret Hikaru had uncovered over the past few days.
All things have spirits.
It wasn't just an empty phrase. The energy that permeated the heavens and the earth was divided into the clear and the turbid. Turbid energy sank, gathering to become yokai. Clear energy rose, condensing to become spirits.
The ordinary stones, trees, and wells of the world could not absorb turbid energy to become yokai, and they lacked any self-awareness. But day after day, year after year, they could absorb the thin, almost imperceptible spiritual energy that drifted between heaven and earth.
It was so faint it could be ignored. But it existed.
The two-hundred-year-old locust tree had accumulated two centuries of this spiritual energy. The great stone, which had lain in place for who knows how long, also had its own rhythm of 'breathing.'
These things could not move on their own, nor did they have an autonomous consciousness. But when someone continuously communicated with them, gave them attention, and made them feel cared for, the insignificant spiritual energy stirring within them would connect.
Hikaru's favorability system was, in essence, a method of establishing that resonance.
He didn't need them to be powerful.
He only needed them to listen to him.
"Awooo—!" the Kamaitachi roared, its patience finally snapping.
It opened its mouth and a focused gale gushed from the depths of its throat, shredding the intervening leaves and branches to pieces. The canopy of the old locust tree was torn asunder.
[The Old Locust Tree: It is injured, but it says not to worry. The branches will grow back eventually.]
Hikaru's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword.
That was enough.
These humble objects had bought him all the time he needed.
My turn, he thought.
The blue bricks under his feet shattered as [Ghost Step] activated. An afterimage flickered and vanished. In the next instant, Hikaru appeared on the Kamaitachi's left side.
It was a blind spot—the side where the beast had just lunged to sever the tree roots, its body still canted forward from the momentum.
Muramasa slashed out.
The black arc of blade energy tore through the air, aimed straight for the Kamaitachi's waist and abdomen.
"Clang—!"
The yokai twisted, blocking the strike with its razor-sharp claws. Sparks flew from the impact.
But Hikaru's assault didn't stop. He used the force of the recoil to spin, and a second strike followed smoothly. This time, the blade carved an upward path toward the Kamaitachi's neck.
The beast leaned back, the edge of the sword hissing past its throat.
The third strike!
Hikaru's body contorted in mid-air at an almost impossible angle. He converted the slash into a piercing thrust, the tip of Muramasa driving toward the Kamaitachi's eye socket.
Into those hollow, empty sockets—where a swirling vortex of air, the very core of its control over the wind, resided.
"Seeking death!" the Kamaitachi howled.
Enraged, its body suddenly expanded. From a mere five feet tall, it swelled to ten, then to nearly twenty. An increase in size meant dispersed power and a decrease in speed, but it also meant something else—a vastly expanded defensive range.
It no longer bothered to dodge. Instead, it met Hikaru's attack with its own body.
"Clang!"
Muramasa's tip struck the Kamaitachi's cheek but failed to pierce through. That layer of grayish-white fur was harder than steel.
The Kamaitachi grinned hideously. "Petty tricks!"
Its claws swept across in a brutal arc.
Hikaru had no time to evade. He was struck squarely by the massive paw and sent flying like a kite with a snapped string, crashing straight through the outer wall of the shrine. Bricks and stone exploded outward, and a cloud of dust billowed into the air.
"Cough…"
He crawled up from the ruins, a trickle of black blood overflowing from the corner of his mouth. The hit had been heavy.
But his eyes were still sharp, burning with cold focus.
He saw it.
Through the blood-tinged mist that now permeated the battlefield, he had clearly seen the rotation and trajectory of the airflow within the Kamaitachi's eye socket.
That meant…
It's about to use its ultimate attack, isn't it?
The Kamaitachi offered no more words. It simply opened its mouth. The maw stretched wider and wider, until it seemed to consume its entire face. A grayish-white torrent of air began to condense deep in its throat, growing thicker, denser, and more violent with every passing second.
That was its killing move—a devastating attack that compressed all the wind in the area to an absolute extreme before releasing it in a single, annihilating blast. It was a power sufficient to level the entire shrine.
But Hikaru did not retreat.
He simply raised his left hand.
"Help me," he said, his voice low but clear. "One more time."
He wasn't speaking to the Kamaitachi. His words were for those 'friends' who were still struggling on the battlefield.
The shattered roots of the old locust tree shook again. This time, it wasn't just leaves; even the fibrous rootlets deep in the earth grew with unnatural speed, wriggling like worms to wrap around the Kamaitachi's ankles.
The great stone rolled one last time, crashing into the yokai's knees.
A final column of water gushed from the well, rising to form a liquid curtain that shielded the space in front of Hikaru.
The last few wooden planks from the abandoned hut flew toward the Kamaitachi's eyes, a final, desperate distraction.
And at last, the hoe arrived—though all it managed was a light tap against the Kamaitachi's tail.
But it was enough.
The Kamaitachi was distracted. Its concentration wavered.
Its attack was half a beat too slow.
And within that half-beat, Hikaru had already struck.
[Bloodthirsty Madness] erupted at full force.
[Blood Transformation] ignited the very blood in his veins, turning it into explosive propulsion.
In that singular moment, his speed reached its absolute limit. He moved so fast that even the Kamaitachi's senses couldn't track him.
A flash of blade light.
Muramasa pierced deep into the Kamaitachi's eye socket, plunging directly into the heart of the swirling vortex of air.
"AWOOO—!!!"
The Kamaitachi let out a sky-shaking scream of pure agony. The gale it was charging spiraled out of control, exploding within its own throat and shattering the internal organs it had so painstakingly formed through its Qualitative Transformation.
Hikaru wrenched his blade free and retreated.
The Kamaitachi stumbled back, blood and wind gushing from its ruined eye socket. That eye was destroyed. Though the yokai wasn't dead, its combat power had been reduced by at least thirty percent.
"You… you…" its voice was a choked rasp, thick with disbelief.
Though it didn't categorize yokai levels with the same precision as Hikaru, it could feel the absolute gap in power between itself and the small oni before it. And yet, it had been harmed by this insignificant creature? And a heavy injury at that?
It was impossible!
But the facts were laid bare before its eyes.
Hikaru stood his ground, holding the still-dripping Muramasa. His own body was covered in scars, and black blood stained half of his clothes.
But he was still standing.
Compared to where he was before, he hadn't retreated a single step.
On the contrary.
He had moved even further forward.
As the old saying goes, when one's time comes, heaven and earth lend their strength.
At this moment, though Hikaru did not have the support of heaven and earth, he did have the support of every 'object' in this village.
He could still fight.
He could still advance.
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