Shion rubbed her eyes. She reached out, intending to grasp Shigure’s hand beside her, but found herself utterly alone.
It was twilight, and the desolate street was eerily silent.
Shion tried to stand. Fortunately, she seemed to be in decent condition; after a brief adjustment of her white dress, she rose with ease.
‘Wait, a white dress?’ Wasn’t she wearing her school uniform? Shion glanced down at her attire, realizing she was dressed not in a uniform, but in Miko robes.
Moreover, a katana was belted at her waist. Shion drew the blade, examining it. This wasn’t the Spirit Cutter; it appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary sword.
“Never mind that for now,” she murmured. “First, I need to… find Shigure.” Shion surveyed her surroundings. In the faint, transitional glow of twilight, where sun met moon, she could barely discern the uneven dirt path beneath her feet.
But where exactly was she? Shion had no idea. Perhaps she should find someone to ask?
Shion walked aimlessly along the path, her cloth shoes treading the dirt road, her feet already aching slightly.
After walking for nearly ten minutes, Shion finally spotted an elderly farmer returning from the mountainside, a bamboo basket laden with freshly cut firewood slung over their back.
Shion took small steps forward, approaching the elderly farmer. Just as she began to utter, “Hello,” she was slightly startled by the look of terror in their eyes.
However, once the old man recognized her, he let out a sigh of relief and spoke in a hushed tone, “Miko-sama, what are you doing here at this hour? The streets are quite dangerous!”
‘Miko-sama?’ It seemed that even if she didn’t know where she was, Shion’s identity remained unchanged.
“What’s wrong, old man?”
“Oh dear, Miko-sama, are you confused from exhaustion? There’s a war raging here! Every household with young people has been conscripted by Lord Igarashi!”
‘Lord Igarashi?’ Shion recalled Rie mentioning her family’s past. This meant…
‘A battlefield from four hundred years ago?!’
A cold sweat broke out on Shion. She began to fervently wish that Shigure wouldn’t be found here. If that little one were to be caught in this battlefield, it would be an immense problem.
Shion quickly nodded. “Yes, I understand. Thank you, old man.”
“Please, Miko-sama, go back quickly. If the patrolling soldiers find you…”
Before the old man could finish his sentence, behind him, a pair of crimson eyes glowed within a wisp of black smoke.
“Look out!” Shion stepped forward, shielding the elderly farmer behind her as she drew the katana from her waist.
It was unmistakably the aura of an evil spirit, condensed into a physical form. Shion had sensed the remarkably potent malevolent energy here the moment she awoke.
The evil spirit before them lunged, its claws slashing towards the two. Shion swung the katana in her hand, channeling her abilities into the blade. With a single strike, she pierced the spirit’s body.
Without even a whimper, the evil spirit’s aura dissipated.
“Th-thank you, Miko-sama…” The old man clasped his hands together, attempting a bow, but Shion quickly steadied him.
“No, no, it’s what I ought to do.”
‘Strange, can everyone here see evil spirits?’ Shion mused. ‘Still, the concentration of malevolent energy is so incredibly high that it wouldn’t be surprising if everyone could.’
However, this also implied that evil spirits could materialize at any moment and harm the residents. This was no trivial matter.
“Sigh…” The old man let out a sigh and continued, “These evil spirits are frightening, but one can still avoid them. When war breaks out, the town will run red with blood.”
Shion gently shook her head, feeling utterly helpless.
“Old man, please go home quickly. I… I’ll try to find a solution.”
“Very well, Miko-sama. Please send my regards to the Shinto priest.”
“Hm, alright… Wait, Shinto priest-sama?” Shion quickly seized on the keyword. ‘A Shinto priest? Where would the Hoshimori Shrine have a Shinto priest?’
“Is Iori-sama, the Shinto priest, well?” the old man asked, his voice trembling.
‘Iori… Shinto priest?’ Shion chewed on the words the old man had uttered. Iori, wasn’t that Shigure’s surname? Did that mean Shigure’s ancestors were Shinto priests at the shrine? But if so, why was Shigure now just an ordinary person from a small town? And why did she bear something akin to a “family curse”?
‘This means there’s a connection between these two matters, doesn’t it!’
“Yes, the Shinto priest-sama… he is well. Old man, please hurry home; once it’s completely dark, the path will become difficult to navigate.” Shion quickly dismissed the old man with a few words. After bidding him farewell, Shion hastened towards the shrine.
The Hoshimori Shrine hadn’t changed its location in centuries, so Shion could navigate this path even blindfolded.
As nightfall descended, Shion was ascending the mountain path. By this era, the mountain road had been paved with some rather rudimentary stone bricks, making the climb not overly difficult. However, as Shion looked down from the path, she noticed that hardly a single house in the town below was lit. Under the shroud of night, the town seemed to have utterly lost its vitality.
The only lights visible were at the edge of the town, in what appeared to be military encampments. Even from the mountain, she could hear the clamorous voices of the people within the tents, a chaotic and disordered din that was incredibly irritating.
The black curtain of night had fully descended. Amidst the rustling of leaves, the aura of evil spirits permeated the air like the stench of decay carried on the wind, sickening and oppressive.
In less than an hour since waking, Shion had already grown to loathe this world.
Before long, upon reaching the mountaintop, the grand red torii still stood sentinel at the shrine’s main entrance. This was almost the only structure that brought Shion a sense of peace.
Remarkably, the shrine’s appearance was almost identical to the Hoshimori Shrine in Shion’s memory. The main hall, side halls, and living quarters were all in the same positions, exactly like her own “home.”
Shion took a deep breath, approached the shrine’s main hall, and pushed open the door.
Inside, the shrine was far more rudimentary than her own home, with various items scattered across the floor. It felt… as if it had been ransacked.
“Shinto priest-sama, are you here?” Shion raised her voice several octaves, calling out.
Only Shion’s own voice echoed through the expansive main hall.
‘No one here?’ she wondered. At home, if Shion called out for Ayane from the main hall, Ayane would hear her even if she was listening to music in her room in the living quarters.
A gust of wind swept through, carrying several old, torn talismans past Shion.
The next second, the light and shadows seemed to shift.
A somewhat noisy clamor drifted in from outside the door.