Three days later, morning light filtered through the carved window lattices of the Land of Demons' palace, casting mottled shadows across the cold bluestone floor.
Asuka's figure appeared at the entrance of the main hall like a ghost, his black robes swaying gently in the breeze. A calm, faint aura surrounded him, completely out of place in this palace perpetually shrouded in gloom.
Inside the hall, Miroku had already changed her attire.
Gone was her cumbersome shrine maiden ceremonial dress adorned with silver ornaments. In its place, she wore a moon-white combat outfit, tied with a dark sash at her waist. Her long hair was pulled into a high bun, with only a few loose strands framing her face.
The elegance of a priestess had been replaced with sharp resolve.
Hearing his footsteps, she turned.
There was no hesitation in her eyes—only determination.
Asuka walked toward her slowly, his gaze steady.
"Are you certain?" he asked calmly. "Breaking the seal means defying the fate of the entire Miko lineage and facing Mōryō directly."
"If you fail, not only will you die—the Land of Demons and even neighboring nations will be destroyed."
Miroku straightened her back.
Her fingers clenched slightly, turning pale—but her voice was firm.
"Of course."
"From the moment generations of priestesses began sacrificing themselves to suppress Mōryō, this tragedy should have ended."
"I am the current Miko. Ending this cycle is my responsibility."
She looked straight at him.
"I believe in you."
Asuka gave a slight nod.
No more words were needed.
Miroku turned and led him through a hidden passage deep beneath the palace—into the underground sanctum.
The moment they stepped inside, mechanisms activated beneath their feet.
Torches along the walls ignited one by one, their orange flames pushing back the darkness and revealing the vast underground chamber.
The space was enormous, like a cavern.
Ancient sealing inscriptions covered the stone walls, still faintly glowing blue despite the passage of time.
At the far end—
A hall floated midair, wrapped in a shimmering blue barrier like an impenetrable fortress.
Below it stood rows upon rows of terracotta warriors.
Armored. Armed.
Silent.
Their eyes closed, as if they had been waiting for centuries.
Miroku stepped forward.
Without hesitation, she formed hand seals and began chanting ancient incantations.
The barrier trembled.
Ripples spread across its surface as the blue light dimmed, layer by layer unraveling under her power.
Then—
The ground shook.
Violently.
Cracks spread across the floor. Dust and stone fell from above.
A chilling, oppressive chakra flooded the chamber like a rising tide.
The flames flickered.
The air itself seemed to freeze.
Below, the terracotta warriors began to stir.
Dust fell from their bodies.
Their eyes—
Opened.
Crack.
The barrier shattered into countless fragments of light.
A deep, rasping voice echoed through the chamber.
"…Miko?"
"You dare unseal me yourself?"
"Have you finally come to your senses…? Abandon that foolish destiny… merge with me… and obtain eternal power…"
Miroku said nothing.
But she instinctively stepped back—standing behind Asuka.
She understood her role.
This battle was not hers.
Asuka stepped forward.
His gaze was cold.
"Don't get ahead of yourself," he said flatly.
"A mutt sealed for a thousand years still dares to bark?"
Silence.
Then—
The black smoke erupted violently, expanding like a tidal wave.
A piercing screech filled the chamber.
"Human!! You dare insult me?!"
"I will tear your soul apart and drag you into eternal damnation!"
The smoke surged forward—
Rushing straight at Asuka, attempting to invade his body.
He didn't move.
He simply raised his left hand.
A pale purple glow ignited in his palm.
Psylocke's ability.
Mental energy—given form.
Weapons capable of directly damaging the soul.
The purple light condensed.
Tightened.
And in an instant—
The raging black smoke was forcibly drawn in.
A crystal-like orb formed in his palm, sealing Mōryō's soul within.
The smoke thrashed violently, roaring inside—
But it couldn't escape.
Behind him, Miroku froze.
Her pupils shrank.
Her breath hitched.
For generations, Mōryō had been a nightmare.
Something that required sacrifice—lives—to suppress.
And yet—
This man…
Had subdued it effortlessly.
Asuka ignored her reaction.
He simply tapped the ground lightly.
Above—
Countless pale purple arrows formed in midair.
Each one radiated a pressure that directly targeted the soul.
With a snap of his fingers—
They fell.
Like rain.
The terracotta warriors were struck one after another.
Their bodies shattered instantly, bursting apart in flashes of purple light.
Black smoke leaked from them as their undead energy dissipated.
In moments—
The entire formation collapsed into debris.
The oppressive aura vanished.
Silence returned.
Asuka turned, stepping back toward Miroku.
She still hadn't recovered.
Without a word, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
Space distorted.
In the blink of an eye—
They disappeared.
Leaving behind only a faint trace of red mist.
Miroku's vision blurred.
The dizziness lasted only an instant.
When she regained her footing—
The world around her had completely changed.