The Indomitable Aura of Evil Spirits

As night deepened, midnight descended upon the town.

A yawn escaped Hoshimori Shion, a testament to the ever-dwindling hours of sleep she’d managed since embarking on her path as an exorcist.

‘Perhaps I’ll just sleep through morning class…’

Recognizing the absurdity of the notion, Hoshimori Shion quickly shook her head, dispelling the thought from her mind.

Despite the absence of any system prompts, Hoshimori Shion had once again donned her Miko robes this evening, carrying the Spirit Cutter as she made her way to the hospital.

To avoid drawing undue attention, the young woman had carefully wrapped the Spirit Cutter in layers of cloth, its outline resembling nothing so much as a baseball bat from a casual glance.

Midnight in the town was profoundly quiet, perhaps even unnervingly so.

Unlike the bustling metropolis, this tranquil town offered no vibrant nightlife extending into the early hours; children who lingered outdoors long after sunset were swiftly labeled as delinquents.

Tonight, heavy clouds scudded across the sky, obscuring even the moon’s light and plunging the already inky night into deeper shadows.

The hospital, situated not far from the ocean, offered the faint, rhythmic murmur of nocturnal waves.

Hoshimori Shion closed her eyes, once more attempting to pinpoint the malevolent spirit’s presence.

As her senses expanded their reach, the aura of the evil spirit manifested again, like a spreading blot of black ink, making no attempt to conceal its existence.

Yet, just as during the day, she could not discern the tangible form of an evil spirit—the kind that could be severed, like the one she had exorcised in the back mountains.

In other words, while the Spirit Cutter was capable of severing evil spirits that had coalesced into physical forms, Hoshimori Shion found herself at a loss when confronted with a mere aggregation of malevolent aura, devoid of any discernible entity.

A sharp blade might cleave through wood or even thick iron, but it is powerless against flowing water.

This, then, was the conundrum Hoshimori Shion now faced.

Entering through the main entrance was simply out of the question.

Should the act of exorcism inadvertently draw others into its dangerous sphere, and some precocious, adventure-seeking child were to impulsively seek out the evil spirit, Hoshimori Shion risked triggering an immediate ‘game over’ scenario.

‘So, it had to be… this garbage disposal side entrance…’

Hoshimori Shion clutched her nose, gingerly slipping through the hospital’s refuse disposal side door.

There was no need to question why she hadn’t opted for a more dramatic entrance, scaling walls or flying over eaves; Hoshimori Shion was not only academically challenged but also athletically inept, the sort who would struggle to fend off a stray cat without the aid of the Spirit Cutter.

Though she hadn’t explicitly voiced it to Iori Shigure earlier that morning, Hoshimori Shion possessed an undeniable intuition that a formidable evil spirit aura permeated Iori Grandma’s ward.

Perhaps this was precisely why the knotted cord she had given Iori Shigure had proven effective, for it was a charm woven by her own hands, imbued with her spirit-suppressing constitution.

As the tangible manifestation of the concept of ‘connection,’ the knotted cord transmitted her spirit-suppressing constitution, thereby allowing Iori Shigure to believe her wish had been heard by the divine.

‘Ha, perhaps it truly was heard, and that’s why I was compelled to give Iori Shigure the knotted cord,’ Hoshimori Shion mused with a hint of self-mockery.

In the dead of night, having skillfully circumvented the diligent on-duty nurses, the hospital seemed eerily deserted.

The hospital itself was quite old, and while meticulously clean, several of its lights flickered erratically, victims of age and wear.

Hoshimori Shion stood at the entrance to the third-floor inpatient ward’s stairwell, observing the few dim lights that struggled to illuminate the corridor.

One, perhaps due to years of disrepair, pulsed erratically, casting an unsettling chiaroscuro that deepened the corridor’s inherent gloom.

‘No, there won’t be a scene straight out of a horror movie, will there? Like a terrifying monster suddenly leaping from a patient room…’

Hoshimori Shion lightly patted her head, willing herself to calm down.

‘No, wait, I’m a Miko, an exorcist! Is it truly acceptable for me to be afraid of ghosts?’

Counting the ward numbers one by one, she eventually located Iori Grandma’s door.

The young woman drew a deep breath before gently pushing open the wooden ward door.

A profound stillness permeated the ward, broken only by the rhythmic chirping of Iori Grandma’s vital signs monitor and the soft whisper of her breathing; Iori Shigure, Hoshimori Shion presumed, would have long since returned home to rest.

Yet, the moment Hoshimori Shion pushed the door open, that familiar chill and tremor surged through her once more.

Softly closing the door behind her, Hoshimori Shion surveyed her surroundings.

Despite the overwhelming density of the evil spirit’s aura, Hoshimori Shion could detect no discernible physical manifestation of it.

To avoid disturbing Iori Grandma’s slumber, Hoshimori Shion carefully unwound the cloth strips.

The Spirit Cutter’s silver gleam pulsed faintly; even without moonlight streaming through the window, nothing could diminish the chilling luminescence it exuded.

The instant the Spirit Cutter was unsheathed, the surrounding malevolent aura began to slowly coalesce.

With keen eyes and swift hands, Hoshimori Shion brandished her blade, and the Spirit Cutter’s silver light promptly cleaved through the coalescing aura.

But that was all it accomplished.

The malevolent aura did not vanish; it was merely scattered.

Furthermore, the malevolent aura here lacked the aggressive impetus she had encountered during her exorcism in the back mountains; once dispersed by the Spirit Cutter, it ceased to struggle, as if abandoning any desire to attack.

Hoshimori Shion waited for approximately half a minute, anticipating the malevolent aura’s renewed condensation.

However, having been decisively severed by the Spirit Cutter’s initial swing, the lingering aura renounced its efforts to coalesce and refrained from further assault.

The white-haired young woman tilted her head, her small frame housing a mind brimming with profound confusion.

This marked the first occasion she had witnessed an evil spirit, prior to its full physical manifestation, exhibiting such a diminished desire to inflict harm.

Hoshimori Shion sighed, concluding that this was likely a problem beyond her current capabilities.

As a Miko burdened with the sacred duty of exorcism, she possessed only her spirit-suppressing constitution and the Spirit Cutter for physical offense.

If only she commanded even a modicum of spiritual magic, she mused.

Then she could effectively dispel the malevolent aura permeating this place.

Hoshimori Shion approached Iori Grandma’s bedside.

The elderly woman’s eyes were tightly shut; she appeared to be sleeping restlessly, afflicted by her illness.

Hoshimori Shion then produced another knotted cord, meticulously woven by her own hands, and gently secured it to Iori Grandma’s left wrist.

Prior to her arrival, Hoshimori Shion had specifically implored the divine for a blessing upon this particular knotted cord.

By all accounts, the efficacy of this knotted cord ought to surpass that of the one she had gifted to Iori Shigure.

The surrounding malevolent aura suddenly stirred, becoming agitated.

Hoshimori Shion frowned.

This agitation confirmed her conjecture: these evil spirits were intrinsically linked to Iori Grandma herself.

The issue, she realized, could not be resolved simply by relocating her to another ward.

‘If only I were stronger, perhaps things wouldn’t be like this…’

Hoshimori Shion shook her head, re-wrapped the Spirit Cutter in its protective cloth, then pushed open the door and quietly departed.

After Hoshimori Shion’s departure, Iori Grandma’s eyes slowly fluttered open.

Her hand trembled as she raised it, her gaze falling upon the meticulously woven red and white knotted cord encircling her wrist.

‘Every Miko of the Hoshimori lineage possesses such a gentle spirit; little Iori Shigure must be overjoyed,’ Iori Grandma sighed.

‘It’s just that, after all these years, a child of the Hoshimori family has still found her way to me…’

Tonight’s heavy clouds were gradually dispersed by the wind, revealing a stark, white crescent moon in the cool night sky.