At the cliff's edge, the full moon hung in the night sky like a silver coin embedded in ink-black silk, casting its cold brilliance downward. The silver strands of Tōga's hair caught the wind, scattering like glimmering dust.
When his golden eyes opened, flecked with starlight, they resembled a fragment of the cosmos, shimmering with shifting radiance.
He had completely absorbed the demonic energy crystals of the Panther Devas, letting them dissolve into his body as nourishment, becoming part of his own power. Along the way, the mid-level yōkai slain by Shirayuki also merged with Tōga's vast Senrō Yōki.
His strength now was far beyond what it had once been.
Summoned before him, Kujaku knelt on one knee in the place where the moonlight was brightest. The tips of her deep crimson hair swayed lightly, even in the still night air.
In that silence where all else was hushed, she could hear the rushing of blood in her veins — as if countless tiny claws were scratching at an iron cage, making her heart itch restlessly.
"The Heavenly Host represents my face. If their strength remains only at the level of low-grade yōkai, it will not do."
Kujaku did not fully grasp the meaning behind his words. But she understood one thing: the peerlessly handsome and mighty Lord Tōga was about to bestow another gift upon his followers.
Below the cliff, at a makeshift campfire, Gyuenmaru and Shunraiga sat in silence, waiting. The leaping flames lit their resolute faces, and within their eyes burned expectation and longing.
"Kujaku. Come."
"Yes, Lord Tōga."
At the sound of his voice, Kujaku lifted her head in response. With steps that carried a faint joy, she walked forward full of admiration, sitting obediently at his side, her tail swaying before curling to rest.
"I have told you before: the difference between a low-level and a mid-level yōkai lies not only in raw power — but in the essence of their demonic energy."
Having devoured nearly ten different energy crystals, Tōga's understanding of this "essence" had deepened greatly.
In terms familiar to the immortal-cultivation stories of his past life, the essence of demonic energy was akin to a spiritual root — an external manifestation of the power within. It allowed chaotic, mixed demonic energy to be refined into a single element.
This, in turn, heightened the quality of that energy, and expanded the body's capacity to contain more.
With this realization, Tōga grew cautious about granting such gifts to others — especially his closest subordinates.
To bestow an essence upon Kujaku was like giving her an external spiritual root. It could be considered a "low-cost" version of the Shikon Jewel. Yet what hidden side effects it might bring, he did not know.
Would different essences clash within her? Would one suppress the other entirely, or would they fuse? For now, these questions were unknown.
The only certainty was this: once Kujaku gained an essence, her evolution from a low-level yōkai to a mid-level one would be natural and inevitable.
Tōga laid out both the advantages and potential risks before her.
The proud, valiant girl did not hesitate. Lifting her chin, her eyes shone only with trust.
"Lord Tōga is almighty. I believe you can accomplish anything!"
"You…"
He could not help but smile, gently ruffling the hair of his little devotee. Yet his expression soon grew solemn.
"Then let us begin."
"Mm!"
Kujaku nodded firmly, her tail finally still.
Tōga raised his palm just above her crown. His Senrō Yōki swirled into a vortex, stirring the moonlight until it glowed with a cool, emerald-like green.
"The wind… is the breath of the heavens."
His murmur carried the weight of assurance.
The green radiance in the vortex brightened, shaping itself into a magatama. Slowly, the Wind Magatama descended through his palm, sinking into Kujaku's crown. On her brow, a faintly glowing azure mark took form.
A rush of cool, potent energy poured into her, spreading instantly through every vein.
Her body trembled — not with fear, but with exhilaration, a primal hunger awakening inside her.
She could sense her very being shifting. Her demonic energy stirred violently, resonating with the foreign essence of the Wind Magatama.
Yet instinct screamed at her to resist — as though to accept it meant she would lose something of her true self forever.
Her face twisted with struggle.
"Do not resist. Let it become part of you."
Tōga's gentle voice resounded in her ears, as steady as the fangs of his lineage, tearing away her doubts.
Taking a deep breath, Kujaku steadied herself and tried to embrace the alien power.
Her consciousness slipped into a new realm: a world of roaring tempests, where she felt the caress, the howl, the sheer might of the wind.
She reached to grasp it — with the same desperate will she once used to slay the Leopard Tribe.
As the Wind Magatama fused into her, an emerald glow enveloped her body. Her hair flew wildly, as if she were one with the gale.
Her aura shifted; the feeble scent of a low-level yōkai faded, replaced by the firm presence of a mid-level one.
The mark on her brow shone brighter, guiding the surrounding wind-elemental energy into her body, refining her power, strengthening her form.
Seeing the process stabilize, Tōga quietly exhaled in relief. Leaving Kujaku to adjust, he beckoned Gyuenmaru and Shunraiga forward.
Without hesitation, both received the essences of fire and lightning, beginning their own transformations.
"Tōga, does this ability carry any side effects for you? And… can it be spread widely?"
Stepping gracefully into the moonlight, Shirayuki appeared, her movements elegant as a celestial maiden. A few loose strands framed her pale, innocent face, giving her a touch of alluring charm.
Her words were first of concern, and they brought a faint smile to Tōga's lips.
"For me, the side effects are minimal. As for whether it can spread widely… that depends. On how many yōkai above the lowest rank exist to receive it."
For every essence he devoured, he could bestow another. Two of the same attribute could merge, or remain divided.
Thus, the true value was not merely in raising mid-level yōkai, but in cultivating stronger, high-ranking ones.
And perhaps one day, from these Demon-Marked Magatama, even a Great Yōkai could be born.
Shirayuki's eyes sparkled, though she quickly reined in her joy when she saw his calm expression.
Her man always thought further ahead than she did. There was no need for her to fuss. She asked casually instead:
"And the other dog-demons? What do you plan for them?"
"We'll continue to train them. When this Wind and Thunder Gorge expedition ends, I'll forge them into the backbone of my Second Army — the Ashura."
Tōga answered simply. Then, under Shirayuki's shy, reproachful gaze, he drew her slender waist into his arm.