Chapter 149: Upheaval In The Land Of Demons, The Confined Shrine Maiden
Shrine of the Land of Demons.
Heavy dark clouds hung low, pressing down so heavily that it was hard to breathe, and even the faint sandalwood that usually lingered around the shrine was completely replaced by the smell of rust and sweat.
Outside the shrine, a dense army was surrounding this shrine deep in the forest, blocking all roads leading to the shrine.
These soldiers were made up of ordinary people, wearing standard armor, mainly spearmen and archers, with few cavalry.
There was a trace of awe and uneasy tension toward the shrine on their faces.
The air was filled with the smell of cheap tobacco, the stench of leather, and the turbid body odor emitted by the gathered crowd.
Horses snorted uneasily, their horseshoes occasionally clanging against the stone slabs, producing a piercing crisp sound that added to the oppression.
Inside the shrine, the atmosphere was even more stagnant like ice.
The nominal ruler of this country, the Miroku Miko, sat on the cushion in the main hall, her pure white miko robe spotless, yet it made her face appear even paler.
Her eyes remained calm, like an ancient well with unfathomable depths, but beneath that calm was deep worry and a trace of coldness from betrayal.
Several strong, fierce-eyed samurai, clearly noble private soldiers, stood like jackals eyeing prey at the hall door and beside the Miroku, their hands always on the hilts of their swords at their waists.
Although this era belonged to ninjas, it did not mean samurai had vanished.
Besides the Land of Iron, which still had a large number of samurai as regular army, the daimyo of other countries also kept some samurai, whether as facade or thugs, to deal with ordinary people or even rebellious commoners; compared to ninjas, the employment cost of samurai was much lower.
Footsteps echoed in the empty hall, deliberately heavy.
The daimyo of the Land of Demons, Hamatani Shun, walked in surrounded by a crowd of nobles.
He wore luxurious deep purple straight robe, his fat face piled with false concern, but his small eyes flickered with greed and ruthlessness.
The nobles behind him, wrapped in fine silks and satins over bloated bodies, had faces either arrogant, fearful, or gloating, without exception all showing covetousness for power and pleasure at the miko’s authority being suppressed.
The strong incense and cosmetics on them mixed together, forming a sickeningly cloying sweetness.
“Lord Miroku,” Hamatani Shun’s voice pretended to be mild, yet carried an undeniable coercion.
“Your recent actions of sending people to investigate the Land of Stars have truly caused panic throughout the country.” He paced, his fat fingers unconsciously rubbing the hilt of the gem-encrusted short sword at his waist.
“Some words can be said privately and that’s fine. But you insist on caring so much about that rebellious nation formed by rebels. Tsk tsk, isn’t that a bit excessive?”
He stopped in front of the Miroku, leaning slightly forward, his shadow enveloping her, his voice lowered yet more sinister: “Do you know how quickly rumors spread among those commoners after your priests and attendants brought back all sorts of tales from the Land of Stars? That brainwashing nonsense from the Land of Stars is shaking the very foundation of my Land of Demons!!”
The Miroku slowly raised her eyelids, her calm gaze meeting Hamatani Shun’s scheming eyes.
“I just want to know what happened in the Land of Stars.”
Her voice was ethereal and firm, like a jade chime ringing in the temple, echoing clearly in the oppressive great hall, carrying an inviolable divinity.
“As for the commoners flocking to the Land of Stars… Lord Hamatani, and everyone present, shouldn’t you be asking yourselves that?”
“Ask us?!” A hook-nosed noble nearby couldn’t help but screech with laughter, spittle nearly spraying onto the Miroku’s pristine robe.
“The biggest problem is you spreading delusions here! What do those commoners know? Without us nobles, they couldn’t even eat hot shit!”
“Miroku, know your place! You’re just a miko serving the deity—stay in line, perform your rituals, appease those fools, and that’s enough!”
“State affairs are not for you to meddle in!”
Several nobles chattered loudly, loudly rebuking the Miroku.
“Enough!” Hamatani Shun abruptly raised his hand, stopping the nobles’ babbling, but the chill on his face intensified.
He stared at the Miroku, his last trace of feigned patience completely gone.
“Lord Miroku, it seems you’re still unrepentant. For the stability of the Land of Demons, for its solidity, we must ask you to ‘retreat’ here in the shrine for a time.”
“Pass the order: without my permission, no one may enter or leave the shrine! Nor transmit any news!” He scanned the samurai in the hall, sternly saying: “Watch Lord Miko closely! If anything goes wrong, bring me your heads!”
“Yes!” The samurai knelt on one knee and responded in unison, their scabbards clanging with a threatening sound.
The nobles’ faces showed triumphant smiles.
The miko was nominally the ruler of the Land of Demons, but basically stayed in this shrine, never wielding power or much inquiring into state affairs; yet the miko’s prestige in the Land of Demons was too high, so high that even the daimyo needed to use honorifics toward her.
Now they finally found a reason to weaken the miko’s rights and status—how could these nobles not be pleased.
The nobles escorted the daimyo out of the shrine.
The heavy hall door slammed shut behind the Miroku, cutting off the last ray of daylight and also freedom.
Inside the hall, only the samurai’s heavy breathing remained.
The Miroku closed her eyes, her hands quietly clenching in her wide sleeves, fingernails digging deep into her palms.
She could clearly “see” it: a darkness chakra originating from the deep abyss underground, filled with hatred and destruction, stirring restlessly.
And the daimyo and nobles of the Land of Demons would all be slaughtered by the monster!
Must… must get the news out!
Stop the mōryō’s resurrection!
After nightfall, the night became the best cover for despair.
On a hidden path in the back mountain of the shrine, covered with slippery moss, a figure darted like a startled tanuki through jagged strange rocks and dense shrubbery.
Priest Ashikaga, the Miroku’s most trusted confidant, from a clan that had guarded the miko for generations, had long shed his solemn priest robe and changed into coarse cloth clothes stained with mud and filth.
In his bosom, he tightly clutched the secret letter written by the Miroku with secret arts, stained with blood from her fingertip; the cold paper pressed against his chest, bringing a faint spark of hope.
He dared not take the main roads, only threading through remote mountain forests.
Rough branches whipped his face and body, drawing streaks of blood.
The slippery moss and loose gravel underfoot made him nearly fall several times, each time startling his heart almost out of his throat.
In the distance, soldiers’ patrol shouts and hounds’ barking seemed to approach; each time the sounds neared, his body hair stood on end, and he plunged desperately into deeper shadows, curling up, holding his breath until the sounds faded, before daring to continue his frantic flight.
Sweat soaked the coarse cloth clothes, mixed with mud and grass clippings, clinging coldly and stickily to his skin.
The stench of rotting fallen leaves and beast dung in the mountain forest became the only background aura on his escape route.
Boom——！！！
A muffled roar like the earth’s heart being crushed erupted from the direction of the Demon Capital!
Even from a great distance, the roar made Ashikaga’s legs go numb!
He looked back in horror, seeing the night sky over the Demon Capital dyed in an extremely ominous dark red glow like congealed blood!
At the center of the glow, countless twisted, screeching black shadows faintly visible dancing madly, like a gate to another world had opened!
A soul-chilling, coldness, evil chakra fluctuation filled with endless hatred swept across the entire Land of Demons like a tangible cold wind!
“Urgh!” Ashikaga was hit by the evil chakra’s aftershock, instantly feeling like he’d fallen into an ice cave, vision blackening, nausea surging, nearly collapsing to the ground.
He stared deathly at the Demon Capital’s direction, his heart filled only with boundless fear and despair: “Mōryō! It’s the mōryō’s aura! Someone released the mōryō?! It’s over!”
Ashikaga dared not delay, hurrying toward the Land of Stars.
After an unknown time, he finally arrived in the Land of Stars.
Star Capital.
Ashikaga didn’t know how he was brought here.
The jolting, fear, and shock from that evil chakra along the way left his mind in chaos; he only remembered encountering a Star Ninja border patrol squad during his escape and being taken down.
Now, he was being supported—or rather dragged—to a door.
Flanking the doorway stood two silent Star Ninjas in deep blue-near-black uniforms, their faces covered by white animal masks exposing only their eyes, gazes sharp as hawks, auras of coldness emanating from them.
These were the Anbu Ninjas of the Star Ninjas.
The door slid silently inward, and Ashikaga was led inside, staggering a few steps to barely steady himself.
An even more grand, heavier oppression instantly seized him, making it almost impossible to breathe.
The great hall inside was unusually vast, its towering dome lost in profound shadows.
The floor was mirror-smooth wood, reflecting the few faint rays dangling from the dome.
Atop the steps at the far end stood a black seat.
A human figure sat casually on that throne.
His face was covered by that terrifying white three-eyed fox mask, its hollow eye sockets like an abyss, looking down at Ashikaga below.
Ashikaga trembled violently all over; the exhaustion from his flight, the fear from witnessing the Land of Demons’ upheaval, and the boundless pressure from facing this legendary existence completely crushed his will.
His legs gave out, and with a “thud,” he knelt heavily on the ground, his forehead slamming onto the cold, hard obsidian floor, producing a dull thud.
Sweat, mud, and blood from his forehead mixed together, utterly disheveled.
“Lord!” Ashikaga’s voice was hoarse and broken with a sob; trembling, he pulled from his bosom the secret letter wrinkled and stained by sweat, mud, and even blood, holding it high overhead with both hands like offering his last lifeline.
“The daimyo and nobles of the Land of Demons have imprisoned Lord Miroku… Someone took advantage of the chaos to open the seal on the monster mōryō! The Land of Demons is in chaos! Please! Save Lord Miko! Save the Land of Demons!”
