Chapter 150: The Player Demon God
The first light of dawn marked the beginning of Kaede Village's routine cultivation.
Kikyo stood in the open space before the grand torii gate, her white kosode and red hakama pristine, as if freshly woven. She held her longbow level, her expression a mask of cool detachment.
Five steps before her, two young apprentices, Momiji and Botan, each managed a small flock of paper shikigami, their faces tight with concentration.
Momiji's paper figures were a study in discipline, lined up in a perfect row, their movements synchronized like a troop of well-drilled soldiers. The girl did everything by the book; even her shikigami were trained like a miniature army.
Botan's paper charms, however, were a chaotic swarm. Three darted left, two veered right, and one shot straight up, embedding itself in the branches of a nearby tree.
"Botan." Kikyo's voice was devoid of warmth or coldness, a simple statement of fact.
"Y-Yes!" the girl squeaked.
"Your shikigami is in the tree."
"I-I know! It won't listen to me—"
Botan frantically pushed her spiritual power, and the paper charm in the tree wobbled loose. It performed a clumsy somersault in mid-air before diving headfirst down the collar of her robes.
"Waaah!?"
The girl yelped, hopping on the spot as she fumbled to fish out the rogue shikigami in a most ungraceful display. Nearby, Momiji pressed a hand to her mouth, her shoulders trembling with suppressed laughter, careful not to make a sound in Kikyo's presence.
Kikyo's expression remained unchanged, but her gaze flickered away for a fraction of a second, as if she could no longer bear to watch the spectacle.
"Try again."
"Yes..." Botan mumbled, pitifully rearranging her paper formation.
Kikyo turned and walked to the side, picking up a water flask resting on a large stone to take a sip. The moment she lowered her head, the corners of her mouth curved ever so slightly, a fleeting smile that she immediately suppressed.
But Hikaru saw it. Leaning against the doorframe of the main shrine hall, he had watched the entire exchange unfold.
"You smiled," he stated plainly.
Kikyo's hand, holding the flask, paused. "I did not."
"You did."
"...I did not."
"I am a demon. In my eyes—"
With a crisp clink, Kikyo set the flask back on the rock. She suddenly spun around, and with a speed that defied the eye, she leaned down and pressed a quick, light kiss to the lips of the seated Hikaru, silencing him completely.
Immediately after, the shrine maiden turned and walked away, her steps a little faster than usual. The tips of her ears were a rather noticeable shade of red.
"...Continue your practice."
Her voice had returned to its usual cool composure, but Momiji and Botan both keenly observed that their training regimen for the day had, for once, not been doubled.
A very good thing indeed.
Both girls glanced toward Hikaru, who was still sitting by the shrine entrance, and gave him a subtle nod of gratitude.
'These two...' Hikaru touched his own lips, a faint smirk playing on them. He decided not to say anything more.
This entire scene, every little detail, naturally fell into the eyes of Naoe Kanetsugu, who remained bound to a pillar within the main hall. To be precise, from the very first day she was tied up, she had been forced to become Kaede Village's most faithful, and unwilling, observer.
She watched others eat. She watched others train. And she watched others… flirt.
She felt like she was going mad.
'I am the Chief General of the Uesugi Clan... I have commanded thousands of elite warriors and many Divine Arms Princesses... I am Naoe Kanetsugu...' she whispered to herself, a desperate mantra of self-hypnosis.
But it was useless.
Because little Kaede had come to visit again.
The small, twin-tailed girl crouched before her, holding a freshly shelled chestnut, and held it up to her mouth. "Big sister, have a chestnut today!"
"...Thank you." Kanetsugu took a bite. It was sweet.
"Why is big sister always tied up here?" Kaede asked, her head tilted in genuine curiosity.
"...Because a bad person tied me up."
"A bad person? Who?"
"It's... that big brother of yours, Hikaru."
Little Kaede tilted her head again, thinking with the utmost seriousness for a long moment. Then, she said something that nearly made Kanetsugu choke on her chestnut.
"Brother Hikaru isn't a bad person; he's very good to me! Big sister must have done something bad to get tied up, right?"
'Good? He's a demon... Well, demons aren't necessarily evil, and it's true that we were the ones at fault this time...'
Kanetsugu opened her mouth to argue, but in the end, no words of refutation came. She couldn't bring herself to lie to the child.
"You're right," she finally admitted, her conscience winning out.
Kaede beamed, satisfied, and pulled out another chestnut. "Then have another one, big sister! If you reflect on what you did, you'll be let out soon!"
Kanetsugu chewed the chestnut expressionlessly, a deep doubt about the Uesugi Clan's methods for educating the next generation blooming in her mind for the first time.
'Why have I never met such a persuasive little girl?'
No, the problem was being lectured by a little girl in the first place. She decided not to think about it anymore. Thinking too much only brought more pain.
Days like these passed in a blur. Or rather, for Hikaru, who was immersed in the dual pleasures of daily life with Kikyo and the cultivation of his blades, the passage of time was hardly noticeable.
And ever since that night he first tried feeding Muramasa with his own 'Fear', the demon blade had become utterly shameless. It was like a starving ghost with an insatiable appetite. Every night, when Hikaru finished his cultivation and began to channel the 'Fear' accumulated from the Seal of the Twenty-Three Fiends, the blade would begin to vibrate on its own.
It hummed and buzzed, the scabbard jumping at his waist as if impatiently banging a bowl, demanding its meal.
Tonight was no different.
Inside a side hall of the shrine, candlelight flickered, casting long shadows. Hikaru sat cross-legged with Muramasa laid across his knees. A thick, dark red mist of 'Fear' flowed from his fingertips into the blade.
The steel was growing hot. It wasn't a mere rise in temperature, not a simple heat steaming from the metal, but a searing sensation that seemed to burn straight into the soul. The forged patterns on the blade's surface seemed to come alive, pulsing like veins as they greedily swallowed the crimson mist.
[Demon Blade Muramasa: Awakening Progress — 35%]
[It is very pleased. It finds this power far more delicious than simple human blood. It wants to cry out in delight, but it has not yet grown a mouth.]
The system prompt flashed and vanished. Hikaru ran a hand along the spine of the blade, his fingers feeling a faint, rhythmic pulse, as if he were stroking a living creature.
'A glutton, as expected,' he mused.
However, at that very moment, a violent vibration erupted from within his robes. It was the red comb, Yura of the Hair—a cursed tool and a tsukumogami all in one.
The comb trembled with extreme agitation, radiating an emotion that felt distinctly like 'frustration and exasperation'. It leaped from Hikaru's robes, slapped onto the wooden floor, and began flopping about like a salted fish left in the sun.
[Yura of the Hair: Favorability +0]
[She is furious. She believes that now that you have a new love, you have forgotten your old one. What's so good about that broken blade? It's cold and hard and only knows how to eat! She can eat too! She can also help you comb your hair! She can even help you control your hair to create different styles!]
Immediately after, a chilling sensation emanated from the sleeve pocket on his other side.
The Poison Wyrm Scale.
Although the scale lacked the fully formed consciousness of Yura, as a core remnant of a high-level yokai, it possessed powerful instincts. Cunning, insidious, and above all, a desperate craving for attention. It was growing colder by the second.
[Poison Wyrm Scale: Favorability +0]
[It feels threatened; its position is being marginalized. It is protesting. It is attempting to release a poisonous gas to attract your attention—I suggest you soothe it, otherwise this room will soon become uninhabitable.]
Hikaru looked from the comb writhing resentfully on the floor to the frigid spot on his sleeve.
A smile touched his lips. This felt like a domestic squabble. But he wasn't panicked in the slightest; in fact, he found it deeply amusing.
"Everyone gets a share."
Hikaru reached out with his other hand, picked up the flopping comb, and held it in his palm. The yokai energy within his body—a pure, thunder-infused power that had undergone six Physical Transformations and three qualitative shifts—slowly poured into it.
The comb went still for a moment. Then, it began to vibrate with even greater enthusiasm, its mood instantly shifting from frustrated to blissful.
[Yura of the Hair: Favorability +5]
[She says she forgives you. The thunder-aspected yokai power makes her feel numb and tingly, which is very stimulating. She feels she can handle your power much better than that blade.]
Hikaru then diverted a portion of his yokai energy into the scale in his sleeve. The temperature of the scale rapidly cooled, and a layer of warm green light bloomed across its surface.
[Poison Wyrm Scale: Favorability +3]
[It has calmed down. It feels that being refined by this thunder energy helps improve its quality, and it has decided not to release its poison gas for the time being.]
"As expected, competition is the best motivator."
Hikaru looked at the items held in his left and right hands, then at the demon blade Muramasa on his knees, and muttered to himself. If he hadn't introduced a powerful competitor like Muramasa, the favorability growth of these other two would have long since hit a plateau. Yura had been stuck at 30 for ages, and the scale had stalled at 44.
Now, this was much better. The moment a sense of crisis appeared, their progress bars began to soar.
[Yura of the Hair: Current Favorability 47]
[Poison Wyrm Scale: Current Favorability 49]
Both were rapidly approaching the 50-point mark, the threshold to unlock their second abilities.
"You'll have to work hard." Like a black-hearted capitalist addressing his employees, Hikaru spoke earnestly to the items in his hands. "Muramasa is my primary weapon. If you two don't try harder, I'll only be taking the blade with me from now on."
The comb vibrated violently. The green light on the scale flared.
[Yura of the Hair: Favorability +3]
[Current Favorability: 50]
[Second Talent Unlocked: Hair Binding — Converts injected yokai power into tough strands of hair, capable of mid-range binding and cutting. The strength of the hair is dependent on the intensity of the yokai power supplied.]
[Poison Wyrm Scale: Favorability +2]
[Current Favorability: 51]
[Second Talent Unlocked: Miasma — When worn, can form a barrier of poisonous mist several meters in diameter, capable of isolating external toxins or being actively released as an attack.]
It was done. The two notifications chimed almost simultaneously.
Hikaru put away the comb and the scale with satisfaction, returning his focus to Muramasa. The blade was still eating, and seemingly with even more relish now, as if mocking its two defeated rivals.
Meanwhile, in a corner of the side hall, Kikyo was wiping her longbow by the candlelight. She had heard the commotion and turned her head slightly, her gaze falling upon the collection of glowing and vibrating objects in Hikaru's hands.
The emotion in her pitch-black eyes was faint, but it carried an indescribable weight.
"Still as lively as ever," she said, her tone neither complimentary nor critical.
Hikaru looked up, the purple patterns in his Crimson Demon Eyes receding. "They're a restless bunch," he replied, his tone perfectly natural.
"If they give you no rest, you can simply throw them away." Kikyo lowered her head and resumed polishing the bow's frame. Her white shrine maiden attire appeared exceptionally soft in the candlelight, but her words carried a distinct chill.
"I can't do that." Hikaru put away his trinkets and sheathed Muramasa. "They're all part of our family assets. It would be a pity to throw them away."
Kikyo's hand paused for a moment.
"As you wish." She said no more, but the motion of her hand wiping the bow became just a little bit faster.
Hikaru watched her profile. The candlelight traced the elegant line of her jaw, and her long eyelashes cast soft shadows beneath her eyes. That momentary flash of coldness and awkwardness was, he thought, quite cute.
After a moment, he took out the string of prayer beads he had acquired from Tsubaki, which had remained inert all this time. He placed the beads on the floor and pushed them toward her. "There's still no reaction. Do you want to try nourishing them with your spiritual power?"
Kikyo raised her eyes. She glanced at the prayer beads, then back at Hikaru.
"This is Tsubaki's."
"It's a trophy of war now."
"I do not use items that carry such resentment," she refused, her tone firm.
But in the next second, she still reached out, her fingertip gently touching the beads. A wave of pure spiritual power rippled out like water, instantly washing over the pitch-black pearls. The resentment trapped within let out a shrill, silent scream before dissipating without a trace.
[Prayer Beads of the Tahoto Shrine Maiden: Lingering regret remains, but the resentment has been purified.]
"It is clean," Kikyo stated, withdrawing her hand and returning to her bow. "Nourish it yourself."
Hikaru picked up the prayer beads, feeling the clear, ethereal space within them, now ready to receive power. The corners of his mouth curled up.
'Is this... tsundere?'he thought.'Kikyo can be tsundere, too...'
Regardless, whether it was people or objects, all his conquest progress bars were rising. And that was a very good thing.
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