Yoriichi had already confronted the second troop. This was the only logical outcome because they weren't drawing near. They wouldn't have mistaken the road, gotten lost, or taken a detour.
I jumped from one tree branch to another, making my way deeper into the forest. I knew I should've stayed with the other troop, but if I'd continued to stay there, I might have ended up dying of boredom.
As I moved forward, I began to notice the flickering of light and the dancing shadows of trees and the people gathered below. I stopped and moved to a closer tree to get a better view while avoiding being spotted.
Standing there was Yoriichi, and in front of him was Michikatsu. Michikatsu had drawn his sword, both standing and waiting.
If I remembered correctly, Yoriichi had been far stronger than Michikatsu as a kid, even without a breathing technique. Now, he had both Total Concentration and Sun Breathing under his arsenal. So, what was Michikatsu trying to do? Get his ass whooped in front of his troop?
"I will not fight you, Elder Brother," Yoriichi's voice echoed through the night's silence. I had expected this response, but how was he going to stop a war without fighting?
Unwavering, Michikatsu raised his katana and was about to swing downward when a man rushed into the scene, gasping for air. He was drenched in sweat, stained with dirt, and his clothes were soaked with blood and sweat.
"General, sir! General, sir!!" he choked out, kneeling at Michikatsu's feet.
"Who is he, my Lord General?" one of the commanders asked, flashing his katana, ready to send the man to his maker.
"Remain calm. He is a spy I sent to the Himori clan's camp," Michikatsu answered. He looked at the man and asked, "What's the matter? Were you compromised?"
"No… it's—it's beyond that, General, sir. It's like nothing we've ever seen—monsters!" the man screamed.
"Calm down and speak clearly this instant!" Michikatsu demanded, as if he didn't notice the man kneeling before him was clearly traumatized.
"General, sir… everyone… the Himori samurai… they're all dead," he dropped the bombshell, causing an exchange of weary stares and murmurs among everyone.
Michikatsu glanced at Yoriichi. He seemed to have a hint of the only creature capable of wiping out an army in minutes.
"Explain in detail. What happened, and how did everyone die?" he asked.
"It… it happened so fast. I didn't see a thing. There was this forest… a guy, then music… then people started dying—"
Michikatsu placed his hand on the man's shoulder, calming him down. "Can you take us to this place?" he asked.
The man tilted his head, nodding slowly.
"It's been decided, then…" Michikatsu shouted. "Three commanders, with me. The rest should make camp here and wait for orders."
"What if this is a trap, my Lord?" one of the commanders asked.
"If it's a trap… we'll end the life of whoever set it," Michikatsu said, his gaze fixed on the traumatized man struggling to stand on his feet.
"I'm coming along," Yoriichi said.
"Do as you please," Michikatsu replied. He mounted his horse, and with a kick, they began advancing into the forest.
I jumped down from the tree and landed beside Yoriichi. We exchanged glances.
"I hope it wasn't—"
"Oh, calm down, will you? I'm not a fan of music," I reassured him.
We continued deeper into the forest, following the direction the man had come from. The trek had lasted almost twenty minutes, but watching Michikatsu, it was clear he wasn't one to back down anytime soon.
He retained his stern demeanor as he rode his horse majestically, the handle of his katana clashing with his samurai armor, creating a rhythmic tone that matched the mysterious air filling the atmosphere.
"Hey!! Aren't we there yet?" one of the commander who had tagged along barked.
"No—no, Commander, sir. We aren't there yet," the man stuttered heavily.
Taking a closer look at the man, I noticed something very odd. He was sweating profusely, his face and arms drenched. His hands were shaking uncontrollably, and his gait was uneven—like a man suffering from mild paralysis.
I glanced at Yoriichi. He, too, had noticed something. He kept looking at different trees, shifting his gaze from one spot to another. After a few steps, he looked at the ground, his suspicion growing.
"Everyone, stop!!" Yoriichi suddenly barked. We all froze in place—honestly, who wouldn't, given the thick suspense in the air.
"What is the matter?" Michikatsu asked, looking at Yoriichi from the corner of his eye.
Yoriichi didn't say a word to him and just walked slowly to the front, passing the commander and Michikatsu's horse. Just ahead was a pair of wooden slippers on the ground.
I moved my gaze back and noticed Yoriichi was wearing his slippers on only one foot.
He picked up the slippers and gestured to Michikatsu. "We've been going in circles for some time now," he said, putting his slippers back on.
"How is that possible… mind control?" Michikatsu asked, clearly believing Yoriichi without a second thought. But I doubted it was mind control.
With my skill, Neural Shell, maxed out, there was no form of mind control that could occur without me being informed before it took effect. But on the contrary, we had already been trapped in a loop. This could only mean one thing…
"It's a domain."
"A domain?" the commander asked as they all turned their piercing gazes toward me.
Certainly, there were people in canon who had domain abilities, but only a few could actually manipulate domains—Kyogai, the Drum Demon, and Nakime, the Biwa Demon. Their powers were frightening, but this… this might be far more terrifying.
Kyogai and Nakime's domain manipulation had one thing in common: the victim's ability to perceive that they were trapped in a domain. But this was different. For Yoriichi to even notice we were in a loop… what kind of man was he? His strength didn't lie in swordsmanship alone.
"We're in a kind of box—a room carved out from space. This can only be done by a demon."
A Blood Demon Art, most likely… but weren't only the Twelve Kizuki capable of Blood Demon Arts? So either the Twelve Kizuki had already been formed, or there were demons as strong as a Kizuki now.
"So how do we get out of this box you speak of?" the commander asked.
"That's the problem. We need to subdue or kill whoever created it—"
Just then, music—a flute, perhaps—filled the air. It was melodious, soothing to the ears, calming the mind, and easing all nerves. It echoed through the night's silence, reaching every corner of the forest.
"Haaaa haa!!!" the man screamed at the top of his lungs. "I did as you asked! I brought some offerings for you! Now, please, I beg you…" He groveled on his knees. "Please, let me go back. I have a family—a wife, a kid—"
The man went silent all of a sudden. A line appeared on his neck, from which blood poured out, soaking his clothes. His head dropped from his neck and rolled slowly on the ground, his face turned upward, revealing a visage contorted in true fear.