Chapter 89: Fiancé?!
After the crisis in Shibuya Ward was resolved, the complicated ties between the Weird Wood Spirit Incident, the Human Devouring Incident, and the Wedding Dress Tree Incident were reported truthfully to the Onmyo Agency Headquarters, the Onmyo Alliance, the Onmyo Academy, and the other major factions.
Before long, the entire world of Onmyodo was in an uproar.
Countless Onmyoji and high-ranking officials forced themselves out of recovery, staring at the reports in their hands with disbelief.
No one had expected that a seemingly localized supernatural incident in Shibuya would hide such a monstrous crisis.
A yokai had attempted to curse millions of people, transforming the entire ward into half-human, half-yokai creatures.
That alone had crossed the absolute bottom line of Onmyodo.
If not for Gin Tsumugi turning the situation around at the last moment, then by sunrise, Shibuya Ward would have become a living hell.
And what truly alarmed the upper ranks—people such as Onmyo Agency Chief Kurahashi Genji, Tsuchimikado Arima of the Onmyo Alliance, Tsuchimikado Yasuzumi of the Tsuchimikado Clan, and the rest—was not merely the scale of the disaster.
It was the game hidden behind it.
The three incidents had not been isolated.
Behind them stood unknown powers moving pieces from the shadows.
And one of those powers was the white-faced, golden-haired, nine-tailed fox.
Tamamo-no-Mae.
That Great Yokai, whose name was known in nearly every household in Japan, had also returned in this era.
She might not be on the same apocalyptic level as Yamata no Orochi, but she was still an existence the entirety of Onmyodo had to treat as a deadly threat.
First, the Shinomiya Conglomerate had brought news of Shuten-dōji.
Now, Tamamo-no-Mae had surfaced as well.
Of the three legendary Great Yokai that had once shaken all Japan, two had already revealed signs of awakening.
Only the Great Tengu remained hidden.
No one knew when he would appear.
Because of this, the upper echelon of Onmyodo urgently convened a meeting deep into the night, dragging their heavily injured bodies into another round of crisis deliberation.
Meanwhile, in the shadows, several ominous and terrifying existences were communicating through a method unknown to humans.
"What happened? This is the second contact in less than a week. Are you not afraid of being discovered by those people?"
A rational but clearly displeased voice echoed in the darkness.
"My follower was killed by an Onmyoji," a deep voice answered. Its suppressed anger was impossible to miss. "The matter involving the fox in the Imperial Palace has also failed completely. The Onmyoji have noticed her now."
"Hahaha... Gyūki, your follower couldn't even defeat a mere Onmyoji? What was the point of keeping her?"
The mocking voice was arrogant, sharp, and utterly unconcerned with preserving Gyūki's dignity.
The death of Nure-onna and the collapse of his plan had already filled Gyūki with rage. That ridicule was the last spark.
A pressure belonging to a Great Yokai descended over the mountain range where Gyūki resided. Countless lesser yokai trembled in terror, not knowing who had dared provoke their lord.
"Yasha," Gyūki said, each word soaked in killing intent, "if you are looking for death, I do not mind sending you there myself."
Several of the hidden beings who had yet to speak sensed that Gyūki was truly furious. If he lost control and went after Yasha, it would become real trouble.
A cold voice cut in.
"Both of you, enough. The obstacle before us has not been removed. This is not the time for internal squabbles."
"Hmph."
Yasha clearly feared the owner of that cold voice. For once, his arrogant tone disappeared, and he said nothing more.
Then, another strange voice sounded.
"Regardless, Gyūki's failure has placed all of us in an unfavorable position. If those Onmyoji shift their priorities toward us, things will become troublesome."
"I know," Gyūki replied. "Since the plan was mine, I will not avoid the consequences of its failure."
"That is good."
The hidden beings fell quiet for a moment.
Then Gyūki spoke again.
"I will be leaving for a while."
"Leaving?" the rational voice asked. "To avenge your follower?"
"Exactly. Since Nure-onna was my follower, I cannot allow her to die so mysteriously at the hands of an Onmyoji. I will take on this karma myself. While I am out, I will also create several supernatural incidents in the human world to draw the Onmyoji's attention away from us."
"Be careful," the cold voice warned. "With that fox's cunning, she will certainly discover our intentions after this incident. Do not let yourself be caught by her."
"I know."
Perched on a branch somewhere in Shibuya Ward, a small blue bird listened silently.
A glimmer of sarcasm flashed through its emerald eyes.
"A mere Gyūki dares to deal with Her Highness?"
The bird's gaze turned playful.
"Perfect. If you want to trouble him, then there will be a fine show to watch."
A faint sneer entered its expression.
"I only hope you won't be frightened to death when the time comes."
Then, suddenly, the bird stilled.
Someone had mentioned her name.
She immediately focused and continued listening.
"Kiyohime mentioned something about him last time," the cold voice said. "I personally investigated the Underworld afterward. There are indeed rumors spreading there."
The moment those words fell, the hidden existences seemed to lose their voices.
A dead silence descended.
It was the kind of silence that could make even darkness feel cold.
Nearly ten minutes passed before one of the previously silent beings finally spoke. Its tone was cautious, almost wary.
"Can it be confirmed? Who did the rumors in the Underworld come from? How credible are they?"
"There is no smoke without fire," the cold voice replied. "It is precisely because those ghost gods in the Underworld were beaten into terror by him a thousand years ago that they have become unusually sensitive to any news involving him."
The voice paused.
"Moreover, this information came from Huiyue. According to it, it has already seen him in the human world. However, his strength does not seem to have fully recovered."
"Huiyue's strength may be ordinary, but its words are more reliable than most yokai gods," one of the hidden beings said quietly. "It would not speak without reason. In that case... he may truly be returning."
A heavy sigh followed.
"Even after his soul was torn apart piece by piece, he can still return? As expected of that man. The catastrophe from a thousand years ago is coming again."
"It is only a rumor. It may not be true."
"Yes. Exactly. It may only be a mistake."
"..."
Some of the hidden beings tried to deny it, but their voices lacked conviction.
They understood that man too well.
That was why they feared him.
His power had once been magnificent enough to overturn the stars.
He had imprisoned gods and locked down the Underworld.
He had suppressed the great tide of the world itself, delaying a supernatural resurgence that should have engulfed humanity a thousand years ago and forcing it into the present era instead.
Miracles that even gods could not undo had been accomplished by his hands.
In that age, he had been the Lord of Myths and Miracles.
No one had been permitted to contradict him.
But now, that same Lord of Myths and Miracles had yet to regain his peak strength.
The thought stirred something dangerous within them.
At that moment, Yasha spoke.
"So what if he has truly returned? If he has not recovered his full power, then we should gather our strength and kill him now. Would that not eliminate the future problem entirely?"
No one answered immediately.
Because the suggestion was tempting.
They all admitted that the man from a thousand years ago had been terrifying.
But if he was weak now—
If he could be sent back to hell before reaching that height again—
Then perhaps the deepest source of fear in their hearts could finally be erased.
"Idiot," Gyūki said with open disdain. "If you want to be wiped out, do not drag us with you."
Yasha's anger flared again.
"Gyūki, what do you mean by that?"
"What else could I mean?" Gyūki replied. "Kill him? Do you truly think that can be done?"
His voice became colder.
"Have the lessons from a thousand years ago taught you nothing? Those seniors who were erased all made the same decision. They wanted to eliminate him while he was still weak. And what happened?"
No one spoke.
"If they had succeeded, we would not be the ones left here competing for supremacy. Do you think your strength can compare to theirs?"
Gyūki's words were like a basin of ice water poured over the heads of those who had been tempted.
Yes.
Had the lessons from a thousand years ago not been bloody enough?
Did they truly want to repeat the same mistake?
Those examples were not legends to them.
They were memories.
And when recalled, they felt as fresh as yesterday.
Yasha wanted to argue, but no words came.
Gyūki had spoken the truth.
"There is no final conclusion yet," the cold voice said. "This supernatural resurgence is a continuation of the one from a thousand years ago. Even if he truly appears, he will not be able to resist the tide of this era for humanity again."
The voice grew calmer.
"For now, avoid him as much as possible. Compared to us, the one truly standing opposite him is the chaotic Orochi. From that perspective, his appearance may not necessarily be a bad thing."
This judgment earned the agreement of many hidden beings.
Somewhere in Chiyoda Ward, a blue bird perched silently on a branch.
Disdain flashed through its emerald eyes.
"Every one of them is a coward who only dares to hide in the shadows and scheme," Kiyohime murmured. "Yet they still dare calculate against Her Highness."
Her gaze drifted toward the night.
"The only pity is that they only caught a mere Gyūki. Otherwise, the show would be even better."
With that, the blue bird vanished into the darkness.
At the same time, in Shinjuku Ward, inside a British-style villa—
A blonde girl sat before a drawing board, carefully refining the portrait before her.
She took a long time to consider each stroke.
This was completely unlike her usual painting process. In the past, her brush moved according to instinct, fast and precise, as if the image already existed and she was merely uncovering it.
But this time, she was unusually serious.
Almost cautious.
"Mashiro, I'm awake."
An elegant voice, clear and lovely as a lark, sounded beside Shiina Mashiro's ear, interrupting her next stroke.
Normally, having her painting disturbed would have made Mashiro feel at least a little dissatisfied, even if her expression did not show it.
But this time, surprise flickered through her eyes.
She put down her brush and turned toward the voice.
"Ryōyū."
What appeared before her was a peerless beauty who could make any man forget to breathe.
She had a fair oval face, phoenix eyes filled with ethereal grace, and a smile beautiful enough to topple a city. Her shoulder-length black hair shone like polished silk, and her skin was delicate and refined. Dressed in an aristocratic kimono from the ancient court, she carried an innate nobility that seemed woven into her soul.
Yet her figure was faintly illusory.
Similar to Kasugano Sora, she was not human.
She was closer to a spirit.
But the vast spiritual power contained within her would have startled even a National-level Onmyoji.
This immense spiritual power was the same presence Gin Tsumugi had sensed from Mashiro on the subway.
"Mashiro, did you listen to your sister and go outside for a proper walk?" Ryōyū sat gracefully beside her, every gesture poised and elegant. "Did you make any new friends?"
Mashiro nodded obediently.
"Yes. I took the subway."
"And besides that?"
"I drew on the subway."
Ryōyū fell silent for a moment, then sighed inwardly.
She had hoped that while she slumbered, Mashiro would interact more with the outside world, grow a little more independent, and rely on her less.
Unfortunately, it did not seem to have worked.
Forget it, Ryōyū thought. Mashiro has lacked common sense since childhood. That cannot be fixed in a day or two.
Then Mashiro added, "I did find a good subject today."
Ryōyū's curiosity stirred.
For Mashiro to call something "good" in the realm of painting was rare.
After all, even across the thousand years Ryōyū had experienced, very few people could match Mashiro's talent in art. And Mashiro was still young, with terrifying room to grow.
Ryōyū looked toward the drawing board.
The next instant, she froze.
Her eyes widened.
It was as if she had seen something she had waited a thousand years to see.
Surprise.
Melancholy.
Reminiscence.
Grief.
The bitterness of endless waiting and the sweetness of memories long buried surged through her at once.
It was him.
There was no mistake.
The person she had waited for across a thousand years had finally appeared.
"He kept his promise," Ryōyū whispered.
Tears welled in her eyes.
Instinctively, she wanted to reach out and touch the figure on the drawing board, but she feared the wet paint would smear beneath her fingers. In the end, she could only stare at the portrait in silence.
Beside her, Mashiro looked at Ryōyū in confusion.
This was the first time she had ever seen Ryōyū lose control of her emotions like this.
"Ryōyū," Mashiro asked softly, "you know him?"
"I do."
Ryōyū nodded hard.
Her eyes never left the portrait.
"He is my fiancé."
Her voice trembled.
"And the person I have waited for... for a thousand years."
.....
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