Chapter 206: Kikyo: Grasp It in One Hand, Refine It in an Instant
In a place extremely far away in Japan.
West of Kyoto, resting heavily upon the border of Yamato Province, a structure sat deep within the jagged mountain ranges.
It was a temple built upon the absolute peak—no, to call it a mere temple would be a gross understatement. It was a palace.
Gold-leafed roofs caught the first rays of dawn, casting blinding reflections across the valleys. Massive vermilion-lacquered pillars supported nine-layered halls, projecting a grandeur that bordered on the absurd. Constructed in a desolate, unforgiving mountain range devoid of human habitation for dozens of miles, it stood resplendent and imposing, like a celestial palace that had violently descended into the mortal realm.
At the absolute highest point of the halls, on the top floor of the nine-story pagoda, a woman stood quietly by the carved wooden railing.
She wore crimson dharma robes. The layered silks were heavily embroidered with the complex Sanskrit and lotus patterns unique to Esoteric Buddhism—yet, upon closer inspection, the designs had been subtly deformed at key points. The orthodox Sanskrit twisted and coiled into older, far more ambiguous and unsettling symbols.
Her face was breathtakingly beautiful.
It was beautiful to a degree that instinctively made people uncomfortable. She was too perfect, her features appearing carefully carved from flawless jade, entirely devoid of any blemishes, and consequently, utterly devoid of any grounding 'human touch'.
Her black hair cascaded like a heavy waterfall down to her waist, held in place by a blooming golden mandala pinned delicately near her ear.
Her eyes were a striking, luminous gold.
They were not the slit, predatory pupils of a demon, but normal, round human pupils. Yet, that gold was pure to an extreme, terrifying degree. What reflected in those irises was not the sweeping mountain scenery before her, but some distant, higher-order existence.
Sessyoin Kiara.
The real Sessyoin Kiara.
This was not the hollow puppet impersonated by some vile demon, but the true, undisputed leader of the Tachikawa-ryu.
A living person.
Yes, she was a living human. At least, her physical flesh and blood belonged to humanity; as for the shape of her soul... that was an entirely different story.
At this moment, she stood at the pinnacle of the nine-story pagoda, her golden gaze fixed intently toward the distant east.
Half an hour ago, the eastern sky had ignited.
It was the blinding spiritual light produced when the Earth Barrier unfolded, a phenomenon born from the sheer power of faith from two entire provinces converging upon Kikyo. That radiance had violently enveloped the three provinces of Musashi, Sagami, and Kozuke.
Though it had lasted for less than half the night before finally dissipating into the ether, the lingering afterglow of that divine light still reverberated deep within Kiara's pupils.
She had seen it.
With those golden eyes that easily pierced through the mundane world to grasp the naked essence of reality—she saw the absolute source of that light.
It was not the shrine maiden. The shrine maiden was merely the physical hub, the conduit.
The true source was faith.
It was the suffocating, overwhelming faith of tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of people, all anchoring their souls to the exact same existence. The name of that existence, bathed within this radiance, was repeatedly superimposed, amplified, and sublimated by the raw thoughts of countless mortals.
Kishin Hikaru.
Kiara's golden eyes narrowed slightly. The corners of her painted lips curled upward.
The smile was extremely faint, yet deeply deep. It mirrored the curve at the corners of a Buddha statue's mouth—a terrifying intersection where boundless compassion and absolute cruelty coexisted, where the sacred and the profane bled into one.
"I have seen it," she whispered.
Her voice was clear and melodious, carrying the crisp resonance of a silver bell chiming in a gentle wind.
Behind her, two neat rows of attendants knelt on the polished floorboards. They were all young women, dressed in uniform, plain white dharma robes. Their heads remained bowed, their foreheads nearly touching the wood, none daring to lift their gaze.
Kiara turned around, looking down at her silent followers. Her golden eyes shone brilliantly in the creeping morning light.
"I have seen our 'God'," she declared.
Her voice carried an inexplicable, suffocating piety. That devotion was too intense, so overwhelmingly heavy that it made the scalp tingle with primal dread.
"He is beautiful."
She reached out a pale, slender finger, lightly tracing a path through the empty air, as if delicately outlining the silhouette of someone standing hundreds of miles away.
"More beautiful than any god or Buddha I have ever laid eyes upon."
"More beautiful than Bishamonten."
"More beautiful than Vairocana."
"More beautiful—than even myself."
Her lips parted slightly, revealing an extremely brilliant, intoxicating smile. It was a smile as blindingly bright as the morning sun, yet as suffocatingly dark as a bottomless abyss.
"One day..." She placed a hand gracefully over her chest. "I will go to see Him."
"And then, for Him... I will offer the most devout sacrifice."
The kneeling attendants pressed their heads even harder against the floorboards in unison. It was an act born of deep respect, but even more so, of sheer, unadulterated terror.
Because they knew all too well that the 'sacrifice' spoken of by their leader was never just burning incense and whispered prayers.
Echigo Province. Kasugayama Castle, Honmaru Palace.
The deep, oppressive night had finally passed, and dawn was rapidly approaching.
The wooden floor of the long corridor was polished spotless, reflecting the dim lanterns. Every step taken upon it emitted a very faint, rhythmic creak.
Aya-gozen walked briskly through the corridor. The hem of her deep indigo riding kimono was heavily stained with the dust of hundreds of miles of travel. A few stray strands of black hair had escaped the tight bun at the back of her head, hanging loosely by her ears.
She stopped in front of a half-open shoji door.
From inside the room came the frantic rustling of pages turning, accompanied by a very faint, strained nasal sound—a noise caught somewhere between a heavy sigh and sheer annoyance.
Aya pushed open the door.
The second-generation Uesugi Kenshin was sitting cross-legged behind a massive, teetering pile of documents. Her blue haori hung loosely over her shoulders, her long dark blue hair completely untied, spilling messily over one side of her face. She had clearly thrown her veil somewhere in the room and forgotten about it.
The young girl's face was exquisite and heroic, but at this exact moment, those usually indifferent eyes were filled with an emotion extremely rare to Aya—pure, unadulterated distress.
"...The budget is completely wrong." Kenshin clutched a crumpled document, her brows furrowed into a tight knot. "How is it that the repair costs for the northern coast of Echigo, after the Imagawa Clan fleet's attack, are higher than the entire military budget for last year?"
"Because the fishing ports were also burned to the ground, Kagetora," Aya said as she walked in, addressing her sister by her original name. She knelt gracefully on the tatami mat opposite her.
It was truly incredible to witness. The Nagao Kagetora of the past would never have shown such a look of absolute defeat over paperwork. It seemed her recent trip to Musashi Province in the Kanto region had indeed left a significant impact on this girl... kneeling before that person and all.
Kenshin muttered again, rubbing her temples. "Then what about this? The demand for compensation sent from Musashi Province. Hojo Ujiyasu actually wants us to pay for the repairs of several passes. Why? It was clearly her own sheer inability to defend them!"
She slapped the paper down. "And the compensation demanded by the Imagawa Clan... plus the necessary support fees for those three thousand disabled personnel. No matter how I calculate this cursed debt, the gold simply isn't enough!"
"Because you were the one who initiated the fight, and in the end, you lost, retreated, and signed a peace treaty," Aya pointed out smoothly.
Kenshin slammed the document flat against the low table. Those eyes, which usually remained indifferent to the point of appearing almost inhuman, were now swimming with an inexplicable sense of grievance.
After all... she hadn't even been the one to fight that battle.
She muttered bitterly, "Why hasn't that Hikaru-sama sent Kanetsugu back yet?"
Naoe Kanetsugu. Although Kenshin didn't actually know her well personally, according to everyone around her, she was an incredibly reliable subordinate. A rare talent for whom even her predecessor had deliberately reserved a life-saving fallback.
Aya smiled. The smile was gentle, and her brows and eyes—so similar to Kenshin's—gained a bit more warmth in the dim light.
"These matters are things you should have learned to handle yourself by now, Kenshin."
"I am a War God, sister. Not a clerk."
"Bishamonten is also considered a God of Wealth in Buddhism. He has to manage accounts too, you know?"
Kenshin snapped her mouth shut. She knew she couldn't win a verbal sparring match against her elder sister. Defeated, she lowered her head, aggressively flipped through two more pages of documents, and then looked back up.
"Sister, was your journey back smooth?"
"It was alright." Aya paused, a glint in her eye. "Met a yokai."
Kenshin's hands froze on the parchment. "What kind of yokai?"
"Pale long hair, Crimson Demon Eyes, two swords hanging casually at his waist. He spent the entire day talking to the roadside, the trees, and even the rocks. Then, at night, he casually sliced apart dozens of demon-like things with a single, effortless slash."
Aya's tone wavered slightly, clearly finding the memory highly amusing. She glanced at the young girl in front of her—who was also her lord, the current head of the Uesugi Clan.
"He carries your aura, Kagetora. The residual divine power of Bishamonten. Only those who have faced you head-on and survived would leave that behind, right?"
Kenshin slowly put down the documents. In those blue eyes, the administrative distress completely vanished, instantly replaced by an extremely bright, sharp expression.
"Kobe Hikaru." She recited the name softly. "It's him."
Aya watched the inexplicable, intense expression blooming on the young girl's face and merely smiled.
Kenshin remained silent for a long moment. "...He saved you, elder sister. So, I owe him a favor again, don't I?"
Aya's smile widened as she observed the unprecedentedly bright light in her younger sister's eyes. She gently pressed her hands together in her lap.
Kenshin didn't speak another word. She just picked up the documents and lowered her head once more.
But Aya noticed it immediately—the speed at which Kenshin flipped the pages was significantly faster than before. Her posture was rigid, as if she was holding her breath.
She wanted to finish this. She wanted to do something.
So, what exactly did 'owing a favor' mean in Kagetora's mind? Aya didn't quite understand, and Kenshin certainly wasn't going to explain.
Musashi Province, Kaede Village.
The very last trace of light from the Earth Barrier retracted from the soil like receding tide water. It slowly shrank back from its massive range of hundreds of miles across the three provinces, finally converging directly beneath the towering wooden Torii gate of the shrine—right at Kikyo's feet.
She knelt there on the cold earth, having maintained the rigid posture of her hands pressed together in prayer for an entire night.
Her priestess robes—the crisp white top and vivid red hakama—remained spotless in the morning light. Her long black hair draped heavily by her sides. Her face was cold, exquisite, and pale, her eyelids half-closed from sheer exhaustion.
The exact moment the Barrier fully retracted, her body swayed slightly.
It wasn't just the crushing physical exhaustion dragging her down—it was the emotional toll.
A whole night. From the very second she received that towering crimson signal light pillar, she had remained anchored to this spot. She had used her own body and soul as the central hub to violently drive the raw power of faith from two entire provinces, deploying an Earth Barrier that covered hundreds of miles.
She didn't know what had happened over there. She didn't know what kind of monster he was facing.
She only knew one thing: he sent a signal, so she did exactly as requested.
This level of absolute trust required no logical reason, nor did it demand any future repayment. But the agonizing feeling of waiting blindly in the dark was, in truth, incredibly hard to bear.
Hongye and Botan stood guard on both sides of the Torii gate. They hadn't closed their eyes all night either, their youthful faces drawn tight with fatigue.
Kaede sat huddled on the wooden steps of the main hall. The little girl was hugging her knees tightly, her head bobbing up and down as she fought a losing battle against sleep, stubbornly refusing to go to bed.
Naoe Kanetsugu sat slumped beside the thick pillar of the main hall, utterly drained.
The morning light grew brighter, piercing through the canopy.
Kikyo slowly stood up. Her joints ached, but she forced her spine straight. She turned around, facing the direction of the village entrance.
The dirt path extending from the south was still heavily obscured by the thick morning mist. At the end of the path, there was no one yet.
But she knew he would come from there.
Through all of this, Kikyo's expression did not change. She maintained that cold, untouchable face that made her seem almost heartless to outsiders.
Sensing the shift in the air, Hongye and Botan exchanged a quick glance and silently retreated to a further position, giving the shrine maiden space.
The morning mist gradually began to dissipate under the rising sun.
At the end of the dirt road, a figure finally materialized.
Grey robes, pale long hair tied back, a worn straw hat hanging loosely on his back. Onikiri rested at his left waist, Yomikiri at his right.
His pace was not fast, yet his movements defied logic. It was as if he was shrinking the ground to an inch; each casual step carried him several meters forward, gliding like a phantom. He walked casually, languidly. He walked exactly like a tired ronin who had been on the road for a month and was finally, blessedly, almost home.
A few early-rising villagers near the entrance saw him first. They froze in their tracks, dropping their baskets. Then, someone shouted, "Lord Kishin has returned!"
Scattered, deeply respectful greetings spread through the morning air, but no one dared to step too close to his path.
The previous Kobe Hikaru was a terrifying yokai. Now, to them, he had become a 'god'. Faith, when established in times of desperation, was sometimes just that simple.
Hikaru simply walked past the village entrance, acknowledging them with a slight nod, until he arrived beneath the heavy shadow of the Torii gate in front of the shrine.
He looked up.
He saw Kikyo standing there waiting for him.
White top and red hakama, black hair flowing like a dark waterfall. The morning light hit her perfectly from behind, outlining her slender, delicate figure with a glowing golden edge. The red sash was tied tightly at her narrow waist, the collar pulled slightly taut across her chest. The hem of her skirt fell perfectly to her ankles, revealing a small section of her lower leg wrapped in pristine white socks above her wooden clogs.
She stood straight and unyielding. The priestess's face was cold and exquisite, the color of her lips slightly faded from the cold night air.
Her dark eyes had been locked onto him from the very beginning.
It was very quiet. So quiet that everyone around did not dare to make a single sound, holding their breath as the two locked eyes.
Hikaru stopped exactly three steps in front of her.
"I'm ba—"
Before the deadpan samurai could even finish his sentence, Kikyo moved.
She closed the distance in a single step, her hand shooting out to grab his wrist. The grip in her palm was shockingly heavy, far stronger than usual.
Then—she turned around and pulled him.
The movement was crisp, her pace extremely fast and completely devoid of hesitation.
Hongye's jaw dropped open. Botan's eyes widened to the size of saucers.
Kaede bounced up from the wooden steps, rubbed her sleepy eyes, stared for a long time trying to process the scene, failed to understand it, and then sat back down in a daze.
Naoe Kanetsugu leaned against the pillar, opened one eye, saw the situation, and immediately closed it again. She had been processing various administrative documents all day for the past few days; she was far too tired to deal with this level of romantic tension.
Hikaru was dragged for a dozen steps, a rare look of genuine surprise appearing on his pale, demonic face.
"Are you going to grab me and refine me on the spot?" he asked dryly.
Kikyo completely ignored him.
She dragged him all the way beneath the Sacred Tree—the massive Goshinboku that had grown for thousands of years. Its thick branches and leaves formed a massive canopy, sifting the morning light into beautiful dappled spots across the grass.
She stopped abruptly. Turned around. Stood on her tiptoes.
And kissed him.
The moment her soft lips pressed aggressively against his, they carried the slight, biting chill of a whole night spent awake in the cold wind. Yet, beneath that chill, they were incredibly, scorchingly hot.
It was not gentle. It was forceful.
It was almost like she was biting him, violently venting her silent dissatisfaction.
A month. He had been gone for an entire month. She hadn't asked a single questioning word, fully and unconditionally supporting all of Hikaru's dangerous actions from afar.
But that didn't mean she wasn't angry. It didn't mean she wouldn't feel the gnawing ache of longing.
And desire.
The back of Hikaru's head hit the rough, ancient bark of the Sacred Tree. His Crimson Demon Eyes widened slightly, then slowly narrowed.
He closed his eyes. He gave up all resistance.
He even actively reached out, his hands moving to gently clasp her lower back, pulling her closer.
His fingers were very cold against her robes. Kikyo's body stiffened for a fraction of a second, the deep red blush starting from her earlobes and quickly spreading down her pale neck.
But she didn't let go. She pressed closer.
The morning light filtered through the rustling branches and leaves of the Sacred Tree, enveloping the two figures in a quiet, intimate patch of dappled light and shadow.
Not far away, Hongye and Botan frantically covered each other's mouths, their two pairs of big eyes staring unblinkingly, rolling at each other in sheer shock.
Kaede finally lost her battle with exhaustion and fell fast asleep on the steps.
Naoe Kanetsugu remained leaning against the pillar, deliberately facing the other direction, strictly pretending she hadn't seen a thing.
A translucent blue panel jumped into the corner of Hikaru's vision.
[Shikon Jewel: Favorability +2. Current favorability: 86.]
Because Kikyo was finally at ease.
Because the heavy burden on her heart had lifted, the Naohi within the Shikon Jewel was also completely stabilized.
All of her silent dissatisfaction, all of her hidden unease, settled completely with his safe return.
That was enough.
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