Chapter 123: Uesugi Kenshin
The days that followed were peaceful to a degree that felt almost luxurious.
Imagawa Yoshimoto had already returned to Suruga Province, taking the twenty-three minor yokai with her. True to their agreement, she began the process of erecting shrines and temples for them across her territory. According to the news the Tanuki Spirit relayed back through the blood mist, the expressions on the faces of the Imagawa clan's craftsmen were quite a sight to behold when they were ordered to build a shrine for a Hitotsume-kozō.
But no one dared to voice their dissent. An order from the Lord of Suruga, no matter how absurd it sounded, was still an order.
For the time being, there was no movement from the Hojo clan. After Hojo Ujiyasu was taken by the Takeda clan's red-armored cavalry, she was reportedly held in Kai Province for two days before being 'escorted' back to Odawara Castle. Takeda Shingen's goal was never to detain her, but to use the opportunity to pass on intelligence about the Echigo clan's planned invasion from the south—and, incidentally, to put her own military might on full display.
All factions had temporarily entered a delicate period of equilibrium.
And Hikaru used this rare window of opportunity to sharpen his own edge.
After the battle at the Tahoto, the favorability of the Nekomata Claws had skyrocketed to ninety. The sheer volume of death energy released when that centuries-old evil spirit perished was greedily absorbed by the claws, like a beast that had been starved for an age finally receiving a full meal.
With that, the remaining ten points became a simple matter. No battlefield was needed, no more death required.
Once sated, the Nekomata Claws finally developed a true dependence on Hikaru himself. Now, whenever he infused it with his demonic power, the withered black claw was no longer silent and inert like a dead thing.
It would tremble faintly.
When Hikaru's palm drew near, it would actively curl toward him—like a pet affectionately rubbing against its owner's hand.
The third day.
[Nekomata Claws: Favorability +4]
[Current Favorability: 94 (Attachment)]
The fifth day.
[Nekomata Claws: Favorability +3]
[Current Favorability: 97 (Unity)]
On the evening of the seventh day, Hikaru sat beneath the old pine tree in the shrine's backyard, the Nekomata Claws resting in his palm. The surface of the artifact was no longer withered and dry. A dark green phosphorescence seeped from the claw, spreading along his fingers like the luminous veins of a living creature.
[Nekomata Claws: Favorability +3]
[Current Favorability: 100 (Unity)]
[It belongs to you completely. The death energy accumulated over hundreds of years, the residual consciousness of thousands of wandering souls, and the deep understanding of 'death' that the ancient nekomata possessed in life—all of it is now open to you.]
[All talents unlocked.]
[First Talent: Undead Affinity—All low-level undead lacking self-awareness will show goodwill toward you.]
[Second Talent: Soul Summoning—Within a short time after an undead being dissipates, you can temporarily condense its residual consciousness fragments, allowing it to briefly 'return'.]
[Third Talent: Soul-Seeking Sure-Hit Hand—Locks onto the target's soul. Attacks launched will ignore physical distance and obstacles, striking the soul itself. Once deployed, it is guaranteed to hit.]
Hikaru's gaze fixed on the last line of text on the panel.
Soul-Seeking.
Sure-Hit Hand.
Lock onto the soul, and the attack will strike true upon release. Taken literally, it meant that as long as he could perceive an opponent's soul—even across mountains, through city walls, or past a spiritual barrier—his attack would absolutely connect.
It wasn't a matter of speed too great to dodge. It was a relentless, unending pursuit. The target of the attack wasn't the body, but the soul.
Wherever the soul was, the attack would find it.
'With an ability like this, if I combine it with my Archer Transformation…'
Hikaru gripped the Nekomata Claws tightly.
Dark green phosphorescence surged from the claw, spreading up his arm and seeping into his very bones.
The fusion began.
There was none of the violent upheaval that had accompanied the Thunder Horn, no painful struggle. The fusion of the Nekomata Claws was quiet, like a drop of ink falling into clear water, spreading out in silent, inexorable patterns.
The essence of death seeped into his [Archer Transformation]. That transformation, which had originally only granted him superhuman arm strength and precise control, was now undergoing a fundamental metamorphosis.
The core of the Archer Transformation was strength and accuracy. It was the very reason he could fell powerful yokai and skilled warriors with a single sword stroke despite having never formally learned swordsmanship.
And the core of the Nekomata Claws was 'death and soul.'
Hikaru could already foresee what their fusion would create.
In the next second, he raised his arm. A pitch-black light flickered, and with a soft hum, he simply flicked his finger. A speck of dust shot from his fingertip, instantly crossing over a hundred meters to cleanly slice through a distant leaf.
Even a speck of dust, an object that could never normally exert force, could now 'guarantee a hit.'
This was… the Spirit-Chasing Archer Transformation.
Hikaru settled on the name. A superimposition of two transformations into one, it granted him inhuman arm strength and control, the ability to summon the undead for aid, and most terrifyingly, the power to lock onto an enemy's soul for an attack that was guaranteed to land.
With this, three of his Six Transformations were now superimposed.
Spirit-Chasing Archer Transformation, Thunder Muscle Transformation, and Bone Soul Transformation, plus the still-separate Spear-Waist Transformation, Sharp Eye Transformation, and Blood Transformation.
He had six pockets, and three of them were now expanded to their limits, stuffed so full they were overflowing.
Hikaru closed his eyes, feeling the power surging within his body. His Physical Transformation had reached its absolute limit; it could not bear the strain of stacking anything more. The membrane separating him from a qualitative change was still there, but it was now as thin as a cicada's wing. He could clearly feel that if he were only willing—if he just gave it one active push—that layer would shatter.
The limit of the Six Transformations would be completely broken.
And it wouldn't be a simple progression, merely adding a seventh transformation. The three abilities stretched to their breaking point would collapse and reorganize simultaneously. The qualitative change triggered by this quantitative accumulation would be a chain reaction—Seventh Transformation, Eighth Transformation, or even a direct leap to the Ninth Transformation were all possible.
But he was not in a hurry. It wasn't that he didn't want to break through, but that the timing wasn't right. A true qualitative change required an opportunity, a sufficiently powerful stimulus to act as the final push.
He would not force it himself. The result of forcing it might only be a simple Seventh Transformation.
He would wait until that opportunity appeared on its own.
He opened his eyes and put away the Nekomata Claws. The object itself remained, but its power was now fully integrated into his body. He glanced at his other panels.
[Poison Jiao Scale: Favorability 44]
[First Talent Unlocked: Detoxification—When holding the dragon scale, one can neutralize toxins within the contact range.]
This talent had unlocked when the favorability reached thirty, but for Hikaru, it was almost entirely useless. He was a corpse, an Oni Samurai. Though he was now closer to being 'alive,' his essence remained that of a reanimated dead man.
Toxins had no effect on the dead. It was a truly useless ability for him.
'It could be used to help others detoxify, though,' he mused, then paused. That wasn't quite right. How would one use it? Just by touching them with it? Or would he have to stuff the dragon scale into the other person's mouth?
He shelved the question for now. He couldn't just go and poison someone to test it out, could he?
…Hmm. On second thought, that wasn't entirely out of the question.
[Yura of the Hair: Favorability 30]
[First Talent Unlocked: Hair Control—When holding Yura of the Hair, one can control their own hair.]
"...Control my hair?"
Hikaru looked down at his own long, pale hair. He tried to mobilize the power, and the ends of his silver locks curled up, then began to sway slowly in the air like a pale snake.
"A bit disgusting."
The comb tucked in his robes vibrated sharply.
[Yura of the Hair expresses strong protest.]
"Alright, alright. Not disgusting. Very cool."
The comb vibrated again, this time with a smug satisfaction, though it was too proud to speak directly.
Hikaru pushed aside the distracting thoughts and glanced at his other two key targets.
[Shikon Jewel: Favorability 75]
This number had risen steadily ever since he and Kikyo had solidified their relationship. The favorability of the Shikon Jewel seemed intrinsically linked to Kikyo's state of mind—the calmer she was, the stronger the Naohi within the jewel became, and the faster its favorability rose. He and Kikyo were now substantially sharing the same fate. Although they hadn't taken that final step, it felt like only a matter of time.
Still, there were twenty-five points to go. It couldn't be rushed.
[Sacred Tree: Favorability 5]
This ancient tree of a thousand years remained lukewarm. It had taken a full month for its favorability to inch from zero to five. It hadn't even unlocked its first talent. But Hikaru knew that once this one was conquered, the benefits would be the most terrifying of all—the power to connect the past, present, and future, as well as the Bone-Eater's Well that had yet to be activated.
He had to take it slow.
Day turned to night. The moon climbed high into the sky, and Kaede Village sank into sleep. The spiritual light of the barrier shrouded the village, its pale blue glow flickering softly in the darkness.
From the back of the shrine, the faint sounds of breathing could be heard. Kaede and Botan were staying in the side hall; through the paper doors, he could even hear the creak of the floorboards as Botan turned over in her sleep. Kaede's room was the quietest; the little girl always slept soundly.
And Hikaru was sitting on the ridge of the shrine's main hall.
This was his nightly ritual before he allowed himself to rest. Kikyo didn't know—at least, he had never told her. She had to maintain the barrier during the day, practice her archery, take care of Kaede, and recently, she had added lessons in spiritual arts for both Kaede and Botan to her duties. She was already tired enough.
The night watch would be his responsibility.
The gray-clothed, gray-haired Oni Samurai sat cross-legged at the highest point of the roof. A blood mist silently seeped from beneath his skin, spreading out in a web as thin as a cicada's wing, blanketing the entirety of Kaede Village and the surrounding miles.
This was his perception network. Any living creature, any trace of Yao Qi, any abnormal aura that entered this range—he would detect it at the first possible moment.
The night wind was cold.
The moonlight was bright.
He closed his eyes, sitting upright on his high perch like a stone statue.
Then, at the northernmost edge of his mist, he sensed an anomaly.
It was not Yao Qi. It was a human presence. But within it, there was something he had encountered twice before—a power that was clean, lofty, and possessed a purity that did not belong to the mortal world. It felt like water falling from the heavens, surging and heavy.
That was… the power of a Divine Artifact?
No, that wasn't right. This power was far denser than what he had felt from Kakizaki Kageie and Yamagata Masakage. It was thicker by more than a single order of magnitude.
It felt more like the source of a Divine Artifact.
Hikaru's eyes snapped open, the lenses of his Crimson Oni Mask gleaming with an eerie light in the moonlight. He looked toward the north.
Beyond the torii gate at the village entrance, the moonlight paved the mountain road in silver. A lone figure was walking along that winding path, making their way toward Kaede Village.
Their steps were not fast. One could even call them slow.
Like a casual stroll.
Like someone arriving for a fated appointment.
The moonlight illuminated the figure. They wore white monk's robes over light white armor, with a monk-style veil covering their head. Beneath the veil, soft, silver-white hair hung down, swaying slightly in the night wind, streaked with strands of pitch black as if it had been dyed.
The face was exquisite, yet possessed a distinct heroic spirit. The features were not soft but were sharply defined and highly recognizable. Between their brows was a depth and indifference like that of an ancient, undisturbed well.
She looked to be only seventeen or eighteen years old, but the aura she naturally emanated was pure to an extreme.
Even purer than Kikyo's.
At least Kikyo still had a human warmth to her, even if it was often hidden beneath a cool exterior. But this person… this person was almost non-human.
Not demonic, not human.
But something closer to… a god.
Hikaru rose from the roof ridge. The blood mist swirled under his feet as he watched the figure draw ever closer.
"You've come," Hikaru said in a low voice, a hint of surprise in his tone, but also a sense of inevitability.
The young woman stopped just before the village entrance. She, too, raised her eyes slightly and looked at the Oni Samurai standing his silent watch over the night.
Gray clothes, gray hair, a Crimson Oni Mask.
The moonlight stretched the shadows of the two figures.
One high, one low.
One long, one short.
One facing south, one facing north.
Her name was Uesugi Kenshin.
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