Chapter 29 - After the Fight
A heavily bruised Ren, sporting twin black eyes, a swollen cheek, a split lip, and several large, smoking bumps stacked on top of his head, was now kneeling obediently in the seiza position on the floor.
"Now. Tell me exactly what happened," Yasaka demanded, staring down at the battered child. Her golden eyes were narrowed, and she spoke with the authoritative tone of the Yokai Faction's supreme leader.
Ren looked up at the voluptuous woman with genuine fear trembling in his eyes. Gulping down his saliva heavily, he didn't dare delay her.
Speaking as clearly as his swollen lip would allow, Ren began to recount his entire experience at the Hozugawa River. He explained the sudden ambush by the towering, burly man with the giant war axe. He recounted the bizarre "Chosen One" title the fanatic had called him, how he had managed to violently trounce the giant's attack, and finally, the shadowy figure that had dropped from the trees to carry the injured attacker away.
"Hmm... It seems their advance scouts have already breached the outskirts of Kyoto," Yasaka commented, her expression serious.
Behind her, Touji Shidou and his entourage of Exorcists could only stare at the bruised child kneeling on the floor in disbelief. 'He completely overpowered a fully grown man? At that age?!'
Yako, on the other hand, didn't look shocked in the slightest. Instead, she knelt by Ren's side and tenderly cradled his swollen cheeks. Her golden eyes shone with unmistakable pride, practically screaming to the room, 'Look at the child I raised!' "A battered, bruised Ren-chan is also super cute Hehehe" Yako giggled playfully, completely ignoring the tension in the room.
"Ugh..." Yasaka and the seasoned Exorcists deadpanned in perfect unison at the ill-timed doting.
Shaking her head to clear it, Yasaka immediately shifted back into her role as the supreme leader. "Captain Kōrōbō!" she shouted, her voice ringing with authority. "Lock down the entirety of Inner Kyoto immediately! Tighten all security patrols and begin a sweeping search for those perpetrators. Kyoto is now facing a full-scale invasion. Prepare the guards for war."
"Understood!" Kōrōbō’s sharp voice echoed instantly from the hallway just outside the reception room doors. Immediately following his shout, the synchronized thud of dozens of rapid footsteps quickly faded down the corridor as the elite Tengu mobilized.
Hearing the sudden, massive movement, Touji and his Exorcists exchanged grim, solemn looks.
'We didn't even sense that many Yokai stationed right outside the door...' the Exorcist leader realized, a drop of cold sweat forming on his neck.
Stepping cautiously toward the Yokai leader, Touji cleared his throat. "Lady Yasaka, the Vatican has dispatched a thousand elite exorcists to assist Kyoto. With a full-scale invasion on our doorstep, I formally request that you grant them entry through the barrier to help defend the inner city."
At Touji’s request, Yasaka fell silent, her golden eyes narrowing as she weighed the tactical situation.
A thousand elite exorcists. To anyone else, an army of that size might have sounded like overkill against a mere seven hundred cultists. But to Yasaka, it felt inadequate.
The issue wasn't the base strength of the enemy vanguard currently marching on her city. It was what they brought with them: the Cauldron of Time. Assumed lost a century ago during the cult's supposed annihilation, it was easily one of the most infuriating and dangerous artifacts in the supernatural world. Legends said it had been stolen directly from the Celtic pantheon by the cult's own patron god.
The artifact possessed the terrifying ability to reset a warrior's physical state, completely erasing their fatigue, grievous injuries, and even their age. It effectively turned a standard force of seven hundred mortals into an undying, relentless army capable of fighting without pause. In a war of attrition, they were an absolute nightmare for any faction to face.
Now that the Cult of Time had resurfaced, the sheer audacity of storming Inner Kyoto with such a small vanguard confirmed both Yasaka's and the Vatican's worst fears. They wouldn't dare attack the Yokai capital with only seven hundred men unless they had the Cauldron actively sustaining them.
"Very well, Father Shidou," Yasaka agreed, her voice resolute. "I will inform Captain Kōrōbō. The Vatican’s forces shall be granted entry into Inner Kyoto upon their arrival. How soon can we expect them?"
Given the urgency of the situation, Yasaka knew she could not allow old jurisdictional pride to hinder the survival of her city.
"At their current pace, it will take about seven days for the main force to arrive," Touji explained. With a hint of guilt, he added, "I implore Lady Yasaka to hold the line during this period."
"Hmph! There is no need for you to say that," Yasaka snorted softly. "This is my city, and..." Her voice dropped to a tender whisper. "...they are hunting someone precious to me."
"Yasaka-oneesan..." Ren's breath hitched at her tender words, a sudden wave of emotion welling in his eyes. He felt immensely guilty; he was the cause of this entire situation. "I'm sorry."
"Ren-chan, don't say that," Yako comforted him. "Even if they weren't searching for their so-called Chosen One, we would still wipe them out. The Cult is an absolute scourge; there is a reason they were eradicated a century ago."
"Mm." Yasaka nodded in affirmation. "The atrocities they committed a century ago were so severe that the entire supernatural world had to band together to resist them."
"Indeed, Ren-dono. The Church and the Cult are sworn enemies, and we could never rest easy knowing such heinous people still roamed the world," Touji chimed in. Having a daughter of his own back in Kuoh around Ren's age, the Exorcist couldn't help but want to reassure the boy.
Surrounded by the protection of the adults, Ren wiped his eyes and gave a firm nod. "Mm!"
**********
Meanwhile, in the Tengu barracks, Captain Kōrōbō addressed the four hundred warriors lined up in strict formation before him.
"A millennium ago, King Sōjōbō led our Tengu race to settle here alongside the Yokai of Kyoto!" Kōrōbō’s voice boomed. "Through our superior skills and combat prowess, we have maintained peace for our brethren! We stand here today to defend that peace! The enemy's vanguard has already tainted our borders, and a full-scale invasion marches on Kyoto! We will not wait for them to breach our walls! Mobilize! Secure the perimeter, lock down the skies, and hunt down any scouts who dare step foot in our territory! Show them the might of the Tengu!"
"YES, CAPTAIN!" roared the four hundred warriors, thrusting their weapons into the air.
Then, in perfect unison, they unfurled their pitch-black feathered wings and blasted off into the air, their sheer numbers covering the darkening sky of Kyoto like a massive net.
**********
Twenty-five kilometres away from Kyoto, deep within the mist-shrouded bowl of the Kameoka basin, lay the enemy vanguard.
Hidden from the world by the towering mountains and dense forestry of western Kyoto, the army of seven hundred had made their camp. The surrounding trees had been mercilessly hacked down and the earth levelled flat to make way for their tents. What was once a pristine, scenic sanctuary of nature had been transformed into the barbaric staging ground of fanatical cultists.
Firelight and thick smoke choked the air. Dozens of figures danced in erratic, unnatural movements, stripped entirely bare as they chanted in ancient Greek: “Ὁ κύριος πάρεστιν! Ὁ κύριος πάρεστιν! Ὁ κύριος πάρεστιν! (The Lord is Present!)” Their voices warped and distorted by the sheer chaos of their rituals.
Deeper into the camp, the true horror of their existence was laid bare. Towering, burly men drew their short, leaf-bladed xiphos swords and began carving directly into their own bodies.
"Hahahaha!" the men screamed in manic delight, revelling in the self-inflicted agony. Tearing loose hunks of their own flesh, they threw the bloody meat into boiling pots, intending to consume themselves for sustenance.
This was the gruesome truth of how the Cult had survived for a century in exile. They sustained themselves through endless self-cannibalism, relying on their divine artifact, the Cauldron of Time, to endlessly restore their mutilated bodies. Trapped in this horrific cycle for a hundred years, the fanatics had plunged deeper and deeper into absolute, irreversible madness, anchored to reality by nothing but the guiding voice of their lord.
Inside the camp's central tent, the High Priest lay stripped of his red robes upon a fur-covered bed. Surrounding him, naked brutes revelled blindly in their own carnal pleasures.
"High Priest!" The shadowed figure who had fled from Ren suddenly entered the tent. Completely unbothered by the decadent scene before him, the scout immediately began his report. "The Chosen One has been found, and we have already engaged him."
"Mm. I know," spoke the High Priest. He was an old, slovenly man, his face and body heavily dotted with deep wrinkles and pockmarks that made him resemble a withered twig. Long, messy white hair and a stringy goatee framed his face, and his eyes were presently squinted in depraved pleasure. "The Lord has already informed me of this."
"Praise the Lord!" the kneeling scout shouted fervently. "And what of the Kyoto Yokai faction? What shall we do with them?"
"Hm... We do exactly as we always do. MURDER! RAPE! PLUNDER! HAHAHAHAHA!" the High Priest bellowed in sheer exhilaration. After a century of bitter exile in the shadows, they finally had the chance to return to the surface world and live as rulers of men once more. How could he not be ecstatic?
"YES!" the scout roared in fanatical agreement.
"WOOOO!" the surrounding brutes hollered, their deep voices joining the cacophony of bloodthirsty cheers.
**********
High above the mortal world, in Takamagahara.
Amaterasu lounged on her throne. Looking at the man with his back toward her, she spoke a bit teasingly, "Are you not going to show yourself and save the day?"
"Hmph!" the man snorted. "I would if I could."
"Fufufu, who knew a being of your calibre would be chained by paradoxes," Amaterasu laughed lightly. Such a strong being, but chained by the world itself—what was the point of all the strength contained within his body?
"It’s not the world stopping my actions," the man explained, speaking with a hint of pride in his voice. "Only I myself can restrain me."
"Fufu~ Of course it is. Otherwise..." Amaterasu paused slightly, then said solemnly, "...you would destroy the world."
"Hmph!" The man snorted again in silent agreement.
"Then... what is the Chief Goddess’s reason for not intervening?" The man now turned the question toward Amaterasu.
Hearing this, Amaterasu smiled wryly. "You know we gods can't intervene in the matters of the mortal world."
"Hypocrite." The man smiled slightly, casually insulting the goddess.
Speechless, Amaterasu left it at that.
**********
Back in Kyoto, the tension had thickened into a palpable weight. The sun had completely dipped beneath the horizon, plunging the ancient city into a heavy, suffocating night. But Inner Kyoto was far from asleep.
Inside a quiet, dimly lit tatami room of the Mizuki estate, Ren winced as Yako gently applied a glowing green salve to his cheek.
"Hold still, Ren-chan. This will sting for just a moment, but it will bring the swelling down," Yako whispered. Her earlier, playful demeanour had been entirely replaced by a gentle, maternal focus. The soothing aura of her ki flared softly around her fingertips. "Fufu, Yasaka even used her youki to suppress your natural healing. You really made her mad this time," she teased lightly.
"Ugh! Don't mention it again." Ren recoiled, a shiver of genuine fear running through him at the memory of the trauma Yasaka had just inflicted.
Sighing softly, Ren's mind drifted to everything that had happened recently. He stared down at his own small hands, clenching them into tight fists. 'I am strong now! I can protect those close to me!'
"Fufu~ Don’t even think about it," Yako said, reading his thoughts with ease. "You cannot join this war. You are still too young."
"But—!" Ren firmly disagreed.
"No buts!" Yako snapped, her golden eyes narrowing sternly. "War is not child's play! You have no idea of the stakes at play here!"
Seeing the boy flinch, the harshness immediately melted from her face. Her expression softened, and she cupped his unbruised cheek, imploring him quietly. "Please... Ren-chan. Just let us protect you."
Seeing the raw fear and severity in her motherly gaze, Ren felt a bit lost, completely unsure of how to respond. He could only lower his head quietly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
"Sigh... Konyo, look after him," Yako instructed her son, who had been lying flat on the floor nearby, staring up at the ceiling in a silent daze.
"Huh?" Kon blinked, snapping out of his trance. He looked over at Yako and gave a slow nod. "Um..."