Dsn
Scarlet Eclipse: Blade of the Bound Nine
Chapter 1: The Shadow Among Ruins
The full moon hung suspended like a watchful eye over the abandoned temple, casting long shadows across weathered stone and fallen pillars. Snow fell silently, dusting the ruins in pristine white that glowed with an ethereal luminescence. The mountain winds whispered through broken walls, carrying the faint scent of incense long since burned away.
Among these forgotten stones moved a shadow darker than the night itself.
Shien Kurogane paused atop a crumbling archway, his presence so perfectly still that not even the snowflakes seemed to touch him. At nineteen, he cut an imposing figure against the moonlit sky—six feet of lean, lethal grace wrapped in a sleeveless black haori with crimson trim. The silver embroidery of a crescent fang on his back caught the moonlight as he surveyed the temple grounds below.
His midnight hair was pulled back in a low, messy ponytail, though several strands had escaped to frame his aristocratic features. The scar that ran diagonally across his right brow was stark against his skin, a reminder of a battle that had nearly claimed his life two winters past. But it was his eyes that truly marked him as something beyond ordinary—piercing crimson with flecks of gold around the pupils, they held the cold calculation of a predator and the weight of countless battles.
The black nichirin blade at his hip made no sound as he descended from his perch, landing in a crouch so silent that not even the snow crunched beneath his feet. He moved like water flowing around obstacles, his every motion economical and precise.
Shien had tracked the demon for three days through blizzards and mountain passes, following a trail of slaughtered villages and desecrated shrines. The creature was old—perhaps centuries—and had developed a taste for holy sites and those who tended them. Its latest victims had been the monks of this remote temple, their bodies arranged in a grotesque mockery of meditation around the main altar.
But it wasn't vengeance that drove Shien; it was purpose. Every demon dead was one step closer to his goal of hunting the source—Muzan Kibutsuji, the progenitor of all demons. The Demon Slayer Corps had their methods, their rankings, their breath styles. Shien had only his blade and his will.
It had been enough so far.
A faint scent of blood and rot drifted on the air, pulling Shien from his thoughts. He moved deeper into the temple complex, past fallen statues and snow-filled meditation gardens. The main hall loomed ahead, its once-magnificent double doors hanging askew on rusted hinges.
"I know you're there," he said, his voice soft and unused to speech. "Your scent gives you away."
A low chuckle echoed from within the darkened hall, followed by the sound of something heavy dragging across stone.
"The famous Ghost Fang graces my humble abode," rasped a voice like stone grinding against stone. "Should I be honored?"
Shien didn't respond. Words were wasted on the dead.
"They said you might come," the voice continued. "Said you've been cutting a path through my kind from Hokkaido to Kyushu. What I don't understand is why you hunt alone. Too good for the Corps and their pretty uniforms?"
Shien's hand rested lightly on his sword hilt, but he made no move to draw it. Not yet. "The Corps answers to masters. I answer only to the dead."
The demon emerged from the shadows of the hall—a massive figure that had once been human but now resembled a twisted fusion of man and spider. Eight eyes gleamed wetly in a face that retained just enough humanity to make its grotesque features all the more disturbing. Its lower body was a bloated spider's abdomen, supported by eight jointed legs that clicked against the stone floor.
"Ah, a man of principle," the demon said, its mandibles clicking in what might have been amusement. "I was like that once, before I tasted human flesh. Before Lord Muzan showed me what true freedom meant."
"Freedom?" Shien's expression didn't change, but something cold flickered in his mismatched eyes. "Is that what you call this half-life? Hiding from the sun, feeding on the weak?"
The demon's multiple eyes narrowed. "Strong words from prey."
It moved with surprising speed for its bulk, multiple legs propelling it forward as venom-dripping mandibles snapped at where Shien had been standing.
But Shien was no longer there.
He appeared behind the demon, his movement so swift that even the creature's enhanced senses couldn't track him. His blade was drawn now, the black steel seeming to absorb moonlight rather than reflect it. The deep red hamon line along its edge glowed faintly, as if the metal itself thirsted for demon blood.
"Too slow," Shien said quietly.
The demon whirled, spraying venom and web in a wide arc, but Shien was already moving again—not in retreat but in attack. He flowed around the demon's defenses like water around stone, his blade tracing patterns too fast for the eye to follow.
No named attacks. No shouted declarations of breath styles. Just pure, lethal efficiency.
The demon howled as one of its legs was severed cleanly, black blood spraying across the snow. "Impossible! No human moves that fast!"
Shien didn't bother to correct it. He wasn't ordinary, that much was true—but he was still human. Just one who had pushed the limits of what human skill and reflexes could achieve.
The fight continued in a deadly dance, the demon growing increasingly desperate as Shien methodically dismantled it, severing limbs and avoiding its increasingly frantic attacks with almost contemptuous ease.
"Wait!" the demon shrieked as Shien positioned himself for the killing blow. "I know things! Secrets! The temple—there's something beneath it! Something old that even Lord Muzan fears!"
Shien paused, his blade a hair's breadth from the demon's neck. "Explain."
The demon's eyes darted frantically between Shien's face and his blade. "The monks were guarding it. A circle—a summoning circle from before history. Not demon magic, not human either. Something... else."
"Why would Muzan fear it?"
"Because it calls to powers beyond his control!" The demon was babbling now, desperate to prolong its existence. "The monks said it was a gateway, a bridge between worlds. They've kept it sealed for centuries, but the ritual—the ritual requires sacrifice under the full moon, and I—"
Understanding dawned in Shien's eyes. "You killed them tonight. During the full moon."
The demon's mandibles clicked in what might have been a nervous tic. "I didn't know what would happen! I was just hungry, and they were—"
Shien's blade completed its interrupted arc, separating the demon's head from its body in one clean stroke. "Irrelevant," he said as the creature's body began to crumble to ash. "Your death was decided the moment you took human life."
As the last of the demon dissolved into the night air, Shien sheathed his blade and turned his attention to the temple floor. Now that he knew what to look for, he could see irregularities in the stonework—places where the ancient flagstones didn't quite match, forming a subtle circle at the center of the hall.
He knelt, brushing away snow and the ash of the demon to reveal carved symbols along the circumference of the hidden circle. The markings were like nothing he had seen before—neither Japanese nor Chinese, nor any other writing system he was familiar with.
What interested him more was that the demon had been telling the truth. He could sense something beneath the stones—a faint, rhythmic pulsing, like a heartbeat slowed to the edge of death. It wasn't demonic energy, which carried the cloying stench of corruption. This was something older, stranger.
If Muzan feared it, it warranted investigation.
Methodically, Shien began clearing the rest of the circle, revealing its full pattern—an intricate design that seemed to shift subtly if he looked at it too long, making his eyes water. At the center was a depression that might once have held something—a key or artifact now long gone.
He withdrew a small journal from within his haori and quickly sketched the pattern. His contact in Edo—an aging scholar who had once been part of the Corps—might be able to make sense of it. Until then, it would be prudent to leave the circle undisturbed.
As he rose to leave, his foot dislodged a fragment of stone near the circle's edge. It skittered across the floor, coming to rest at the exact center of the pattern.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the temple floor began to tremble.
The carved symbols flared to life, glowing with a deep crimson light that pulsed in time with the strange heartbeat Shien had sensed earlier. The stone fragment at the center rose into the air, suspended on nothing, spinning faster and faster until it was a blur of light.
Shien drew his blade and backed away, but there was nowhere to retreat. The light from the circle expanded outward, forming a dome that enclosed the entire temple hall, trapping him inside.
The air grew thick and heavy, difficult to breathe. Pressure built within the dome, as if the very fabric of reality was being compressed. Shien had faced demons that could manipulate space, but this was different—more fundamental, as if the rules that governed the world were being temporarily suspended.
At the center of the circle, the spinning stone fragment shattered with a sound like breaking glass. In its place, the air itself began to tear—a vertical rent in reality that widened to reveal not darkness, but a swirling maelstrom of colors no human eye was meant to see.
And from this tear in the world stepped nine figures, one after another, each materializing from impossibility into solid form.
When the light finally faded and the pressure dissipated, Shien found himself facing nine women, each as different from the others as night from day, yet all sharing an unmistakable aura of otherworldliness.
For a long moment, the temple was silent save for the soft whisper of falling snow through the shattered roof. The nine strangers regarded Shien with expressions ranging from confusion to outright hostility. He kept his blade raised, body tensed for an attack that might come from any direction.
"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice still soft but carrying an edge sharper than his sword. "What are you?"
The tallest among them—a regal woman with flowing platinum-blonde hair and cold blue eyes—stepped forward. Her attire was bizarre: a luxurious white and gold ensemble that exposed far more skin than was practical in this winter climate, yet she showed no signs of discomfort from the cold.
"I am Morgan le Fay, Queen of the Summer Court of Avalon," she announced, her voice carrying the unquestionable authority of one used to absolute obedience. "And you, mortal, will explain immediately why you have summoned us to this..." She glanced around the ruined temple with unconcealed disdain. "...this primitive hovel."
Before Shien could respond, another of the women moved to Morgan's side—this one with striking fox-like features and an outfit that seemed to be a stylized, elaborate kimono in red and white. Unlike Morgan's cold disdain, her expression held calculating amusement.
"Now, now, Your Majesty," she purred, her voice as smooth as silk. "Let's not be hasty. Our handsome summoner looks just as confused as we are." She turned to Shien, golden eyes gleaming with predatory interest. "I am Koyanskaya of the Dark, Divine Spirit of Beasts. And you are...?"
Shien's grip tightened on his sword. Divine spirits? Queens? Either these women were delusional, or something far beyond his understanding had just occurred.
"Shien Kurogane," he answered, seeing no reason to withhold his name. "I didn't summon you. The circle activated when I disturbed it."
A third woman stepped forward—younger in appearance, with long blonde hair tied with blue ribbons. Unlike the others, her expression held more concern than anger or amusement.
"An accidental summoning?" she asked, her voice surprisingly gentle compared to the others. "That's... highly unusual. The ritual typically requires intent." She bowed slightly, a gesture at odds with the evident nobility of her bearing. "I am Castoria. It seems we've been brought to your world through no fault of your own."
"Your world?" Shien repeated, picking up on the implication. "You claim to be from elsewhere?"
A fourth woman scoffed at this—a striking figure with silvery-white hair and prominent red horns that curved from her forehead. Unlike the others, she carried herself with the unmistakable dignity of a warrior.
"We are Heroic Spirits," she stated simply. "Divine beings from beyond your reality. I am Tomoe Gozen, warrior of—" She paused, her red eyes widening in alarm as she reached for a weapon that wasn't there. "My bow. Where is my bow?"
This triggered a cascade of similar realizations among the group. Morgan attempted some gesture that resulted in nothing but empty air. Koyanskaya's eyes widened as she flexed her fingers, finding them devoid of whatever power she expected.
"My magic," gasped Castoria, her face paling. "I can't feel it at all."
The remaining five women were having similar epiphanies, their reactions ranging from quiet dismay to outright panic.
One—a woman with flowing white hair ending in orange tips and a regal, fur-lined cape—seemed particularly distressed. "This is impossible!" she declared, her voice trembling with indignation. "I am U-Olga Marie, the Alien God! How dare this primitive realm strip me of my divinity!"
Another—an ethereal figure with iridescent, crystal-blue hair and eyes that shifted in impossible patterns—was examining her own hands with detached fascination. "This vessel is... limiting," she observed in a voice that somehow echoed despite the open space. "Biological constraints I have not experienced before. Fascinating." She looked up at Shien. "You may refer to me as ORT."
The seventh woman—her deep violet and cyan hair swirling like a nebula—was less composed. "What the hell kind of half-baked summoning is this?" she demanded, stomping her foot and looking genuinely shocked when it didn't produce whatever effect she expected. "I'm Space Ishtar! I command galaxies! And now I can't even make my own light show? This is beyond insulting!"
Beside her, a woman with luxurious blonde hair and striking blue eyes seemed to be taking the situation more philosophically. "The rules are different here," she murmured, more to herself than the others. "I can feel it. This world has... different physics." She noticed Shien watching her and straightened. "I am Space Ereshkigal, Guardian of the Cosmic Underworld. Or I was, until moments ago."
The ninth woman had remained silent throughout this exchange. She stood slightly apart from the others, her pristine white kimono somehow untouched by the snow and debris. Her jet-black hair fell straight down her back, and her pale violet eyes regarded Shien with an unsettling, penetrating gaze.
When she finally spoke, her voice was soft yet carried to every corner of the ruined hall. "Void Shiki," she said simply. "I see the death of all things." Her head tilted slightly as she studied Shien. "Except yours. How curious."
Shien processed all of this with outward calm, though his mind raced with implications. Nine women claiming to be divine beings from other worlds, now apparently stripped of their powers. Either this was an elaborate deception, or he had stumbled into something far more complex than demon hunting.
He took a step toward the circle, intending to examine it more closely, but found himself unable to move more than a few paces. An invisible barrier seemed to hold him in place—not painful, but immovable.
Koyanskaya noticed his struggle and laughed softly. "Oh my, it seems the binding goes both ways. How deliciously inconvenient."
"Binding?" Shien questioned sharply.
Castoria approached the edge of the circle, extending her hand cautiously. When she reached a certain point, her palm flattened against something invisible. "It's as I feared," she said, turning back to the group. "We're bound to the summoner—to you, Shien Kurogane. We cannot move beyond a certain distance from you, and it seems you face the same constraint."
"That is unacceptable," Morgan declared imperiously. "I am a queen. I do not submit to bindings or limitations of any kind."
"And yet here we are, Your Majesty," Koyanskaya replied with barely concealed amusement. "Divine spirits bound to a mortal master in a world not our own. One might almost appreciate the cosmic irony."
Morgan shot her a venomous glare but did not dispute the assessment.
Shien sheathed his sword, seeing no immediate threat from these women despite their claims of divinity. "How do we break this binding?" he asked pragmatically.
"Traditionally, such contracts end with either the death of the Master or the completion of whatever purpose required the summoning," Castoria explained, her tone scholarly despite the dire implications of her words.
"Death is not an option," Shien stated flatly.
"Agreed," said Tomoe Gozen, surprising the others with her quick support of Shien. "I sense honor in this one. If we are bound to a mortal, we could have fared worse."
ORT tilted her head at an angle that seemed just slightly wrong for human anatomy. "Purpose," she echoed. "What purpose would necessitate summoning nine divine entities of disparate origins and domains?"
Before anyone could speculate further, a sound from outside the temple caught Shien's attention—a distant scream, quickly cut off. His body tensed, instincts honed by years of hunting immediately alert.
"Demons," he said, moving toward the temple entrance. "The summoning must have attracted them."
"Demons?" Ishtar repeated, looking more intrigued than concerned. "What kind of demons? The Mesopotamian variety, or something local to this backwater?"
"Local," Shien replied curtly. "And deadly to humans. Stay here if you can." He tested the binding, finding that he could move about a hundred meters from the center of the circle before resistance became too great.
"We cannot stay if you go beyond the binding's range," Void Shiki informed him, materializing at his side with uncanny silence. "We will be pulled along whether we wish it or not."
Shien considered this new complication. Nine powerless women with no knowledge of this world's dangers would be prime targets for demons—especially if they retained some essence of divinity that demons could sense or consume.
"Then stay behind me," he ordered, drawing his black blade once more. "And do exactly as I say."
Morgan bristled at his tone. "I do not take orders from mortals."
"Then die." Shien's crimson eyes met her blue ones without flinching. "This world doesn't care about your divine status or royal blood. The demons will tear you apart without hesitation, and your pride will mean nothing as they feast on your flesh."
The bluntness of his assessment silenced even Morgan momentarily.
"He speaks truth," Tomoe affirmed, moving to stand beside Shien. "I recognize a fellow warrior when I see one. In this realm, his knowledge is our best defense until we understand our circumstances."
One by one, the others acknowledged the logic of this—some grudgingly, others with pragmatic acceptance. Only U-Olga Marie continued to protest, though her complaints fell on increasingly deaf ears as the sound of combat grew louder from the village below.
"Stay close," Shien instructed as he led them from the temple ruins. "Speak only when necessary. If I engage a demon, do not interfere unless I explicitly request assistance."
As they descended the mountain path toward the besieged village, the nine divine women—now painfully mortal—exchanged glances ranging from worried to calculating. Whatever cosmic force had bound them to this silent swordsman, one thing was becoming increasingly clear: their survival in this demon-infested world depended entirely on him.
And Shien Kurogane, the Ghost Fang who had spent years ensuring he fought alone, now found himself responsible for nine lives besides his own—a complication he neither wanted nor needed in his single-minded quest to hunt demons.
Yet the binding left him no choice. For better or worse, their fates were now intertwined.
Chapter 2: Blood in the Snow
The village at the base of the mountain was small—perhaps thirty houses clustered around a central well, surrounded by terraced rice fields now dormant under winter's blanket. In ordinary times, it would be silent at this hour, with only the occasional guard making rounds.
These were not ordinary times.
As Shien crested the final rise, the nine women trailing behind him at various distances, the full extent of the attack became visible. Three houses were already ablaze, their thatched roofs perfect kindling in the dry winter air. Villagers ran in panic, some carrying children, others clutching improvised weapons.
And among them moved shadows too fluid to be human, too predatory to be anything but demons.
"What manner of creatures are those?" asked Tomoe, her warrior's instincts immediately assessing the threat despite her current powerlessness.
"Demons," Shien replied, his eyes tracking the movement patterns, counting targets. "They were human once. Now they consume humans to grow stronger."
"How barbaric," sniffed U-Olga Marie. "In my realm, we simply consumed stars."
Shien didn't bother responding. He was already counting—five demons visible, likely more hiding. The villagers had no chance without intervention.
"Stay back," he ordered the nine. "Find shelter if you can."
"And if we cannot?" Castoria asked pragmatically. "The binding limits how far we can move from you."
Shien's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. The binding circle complicated everything, preventing him from employing his usual tactics—moving so fast that demons couldn't track him, attacking from unexpected angles, using the terrain to his advantage.
"Then stay behind me and don't interfere," he amended. "These aren't ordinary demons. They're faster, stronger, and more cunning than humans. Without your powers, you'd only be liabilities."
Morgan's eyes narrowed at being called a liability, but even she could not deny the pragmatic truth of his assessment.
Koyanskaya, however, merely smiled—a sharp, predatory expression. "You might be surprised what we're capable of, even without our divine attributes. Some of us were formidable long before we ascended to divinity."
"Prove it by staying alive," Shien replied curtly, then launched himself down the hillside without further discussion.
His movement was so sudden and fluid that several of the women gasped. One moment he was standing beside them, the next he was a black streak against the snow, covering ground with inhuman speed.
The first demon didn't even see him coming—a hulking beast with arms like tree trunks and skin covered in what looked like bark. Shien's blade separated its head from its shoulders in a single, precise stroke. The body crumbled to ash before it hit the ground.
From their position on the hill, the nine women watched with varying degrees of interest and shock.
"He's... quite efficient," Castoria observed, her tactician's mind already analyzing Shien's movements. "No wasted motion or energy."
"He's beautiful," murmured Ereshkigal, her eyes wide. "Like death itself given human form."
"He's adequate for a human, I suppose," Koyanskaya remarked, though her golden eyes followed his movements with predatory intensity. "Though without our powers, we're stuck with him regardless."
Tomoe's expression remained stoic, but there was unmistakable professional appreciation in her gaze. "His swordsmanship surpasses anything I witnessed in my mortal life. He doesn't use any recognizable style, yet his technique is flawless."
In the village below, Shien continued his methodical destruction of the demon threat. A second demon—a female form with elongated limbs and a mouth that split her face vertically—leapt to meet him. She was fast, but Shien was faster. He dodged her initial swipe, pivoted under her guard, and drove his blade upward through her jaw and into her brain. Another plume of ash scattered in the winter wind.
A third fell to a horizontal slash across the torso. A fourth lost both arms before its head followed. The fifth, realizing it was outmatched, attempted to flee, only to find Shien somehow ahead of it, waiting.
"Impossible," it gasped. "What are you?"
Shien didn't answer. His blade did, cleaving through the demon's neck in a single, fluid arc.
As the last visible demon disintegrated, silence fell over the village square. The surviving villagers peered from their hiding places, unsure whether to feel relief or continued terror at the presence of this silent swordsman.
Shien scanned the area, his mismatched eyes searching for any remaining threats. Something felt wrong. The demons had been too weak, too disorganized. Almost like a distraction—
The realization hit him just as a massive form crashed through the headman's house. This demon dwarfed the others, its body a grotesque amalgamation of human and insect parts. Multiple compound eyes gleamed with malice, and mandibles clicked in hunger.
"I smell something divine," it chittered, its voice a grating rasp that carried to where the nine women stood. "Something old and powerful. Give it to me, human."
On the hillside, the women exchanged alarmed glances.
"It senses us," Void Shiki stated calmly, despite the dire implication.
"Impossible," U-Olga Marie scoffed. "We've been stripped of our divinity."
"Not entirely, it seems," ORT observed, her constantly shifting eyes narrowing. "Some essence remains—enough to attract predators attuned to such energies."
Below, the insect demon was proving a far more formidable opponent than the others. It was fast despite its bulk, skittering across the ground with unnatural speed. Shien met its charge head-on, his blade clashing against its armored forearms. The impact sent him sliding backward, his feet carving furrows in the dirt.
"You've gotten better, demon slayer," it hissed, loud enough for even the women on the hill to hear. "But I remember you from three winters ago. You took my arm then." It raised a regrown limb, now twisted into a chitinous blade. "I've been consuming humans every night since, preparing for our rematch."
"He knows this creature," Castoria murmured, concern evident in her voice. "A previous encounter left unfinished."
"A mistake he doesn't seem the type to make often," Koyanskaya noted.
The battle intensified, with Shien's blade repeatedly striking the demon's armored carapace. Each blow would have slain a lesser demon instantly, but this one's shell seemed to absorb the impacts, cracking but not breaking.
"He's holding back," Tomoe observed suddenly, her eyes narrowing. "Why would he—"
"The binding," Castoria realized. "He's keeping within range so we aren't dragged into the conflict."
Indeed, Shien's movements, while still blindingly fast, appeared constrained compared to his earlier fluidity. He was fighting in a tight circle, never moving too far from a central point—sacrificing tactical advantage to maintain the distance from the nine women on the hillside.
"This is absurd," Morgan declared, her regal bearing marred by growing irritation. "We are being used as an anchor to restrict his movement. I will not be responsible for his defeat."
Before anyone could stop her, she began descending the hill toward the village, her movements precise despite the treacherous footing and her impractical attire. After a moment's hesitation, Castoria followed, then Tomoe, her warrior's instincts driving her toward the battle despite her lack of weapons.
"Where are you going?" demanded Ishtar, calling after them.
"To expand his range," Castoria called back. "If we move closer, he'll have more freedom to fight properly."
One by one, the others followed, some reluctantly, others with growing interest in the combat below. Only U-Olga Marie remained behind, her expression torn between disdain for the "primitive" conflict and fear of approaching the danger.
"This is beneath my dignity," she muttered, even as she began a hesitant descent after the others. "An Alien God should not be reduced to... to spectating a brawl."
In the village square, Shien was being driven back step by step. The insect demon had revealed another advantage—it could spew a corrosive fluid that burned through anything it touched. The ground around them was pockmarked with sizzling holes, limiting Shien's mobility even further.
"I'll consume you first," the demon chittered gleefully. "Then those divine morsels you brought with you. Their essence will make me stronger than even Upper Moon rank."
Shien's expression didn't change, but inwardly he cursed. The demon's words confirmed his suspicion—it could sense the residual divinity of the nine women. They were beacons for demonic attention, complications in an already dangerous mission.
A sharp rock suddenly struck the demon's head, bouncing off its carapace without causing damage but drawing its attention. Tomoe stood thirty paces away, already reaching for another projectile, her movements echoing the precision of the warrior she had once been.
"Your opponent is distracted," she called to Shien, her voice carrying the authority of a general who had commanded armies in life. "Strike now!"
The demon whirled toward this new threat, mandibles clicking in anticipation. "Another morsel delivers itself!"
It never saw Shien move. One moment he was ten paces away, bleeding and apparently winded; the next, his blade was buried in the back of the demon's neck, cutting through chitin and flesh with equal ease.
The demon's body went rigid. "Im...possible..." it gasped.
Shien leaned close to its ear as he twisted the blade. "You talk too much," he whispered, before severing its head completely.
As the demon's body dissolved into ash, Shien turned to Tomoe with a flat stare. "I ordered you to stay back."
Rather than flinch, Tomoe met his gaze with equal intensity. "I am a warrior. I do not cower while battles rage."
"You could have died."
"So could you, constrained by our presence." Her red eyes held a challenge. "Would you prefer allies who think and adapt, or mindless followers who obey without question?"
Their standoff was interrupted by villagers cautiously emerging from hiding, murmuring among themselves at the sight of Shien and the strange women now gathering in the square. An elderly man stepped forward, clearly the village headman despite his trembling hands.
"Demon slayer," he said, bowing deeply. "We owe you our lives."
"The demons were drawn here because of me," Shien replied, his voice neutral but his meaning clear—he accepted responsibility for the attack. He reached into his haori and withdrew a small pouch, offering it to the headman. "For rebuilding."
The old man accepted the pouch with another bow, eyes widening slightly at the weight of coins inside. "You are most generous. Please, you and your... companions are welcome to rest here. We have little, but we can offer shelter for the night."
Shien glanced at the nine women, noting their varying states of exhaustion and confusion. Even divine beings, it seemed, were subject to mortal fatigue when stripped of their powers.
"One night," he conceded. "We leave at dawn."
As the headman led them toward the village's communal hall—one of the few buildings large enough to accommodate them all—Koyanskaya sidled up beside Shien, her fox-like eyes glinting with amusement.
"My, my. Isn't this cozy? The lone wolf suddenly saddled with nine divine ladies, all helpless and dependent on his big, strong sword." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Tell me, 'Master,' do you always pay for the damages your little hobby causes?"
Shien kept his eyes forward. "I take responsibility for my actions."
"How noble," she purred. "And now you're responsible for us too. I wonder if your coin purse is deep enough for the trouble we'll bring."
Before Shien could respond, Void Shiki drifted to his other side, her white kimono somehow untouched by the journey's dirt and snow.
"The demon sought divinity," she said softly. "Our presence endangers these people."
Shien nodded once, acknowledging the observation without comment. It confirmed his fears—whatever residual power clung to these women, demons could sense it. Traveling with them would be like carrying a beacon for every hungry monster in Japan.
Inside the communal hall, villagers had already begun setting out bedding and simple food. The nine women dispersed throughout the space, each reacting to their surroundings in ways that revealed their true natures despite their current powerlessness.
Morgan immediately commandeered the spot closest to the fire, arranging herself with regal poise and accepting offerings of food and drink as if they were her due. U-Olga Marie joined her, the two sharing a mutual disdain for their humble surroundings that transcended their different origins.
"This is what passes for hospitality in this realm?" U-Olga Marie muttered, eyeing the simple rice and pickled vegetables with undisguised contempt. "I consumed celestial bodies for sustenance."
"And I dined on ambrosia from golden platters," Morgan replied, though she nevertheless accepted a bowl with grudging grace. "Yet here we are, reduced to...peasant fare."
Ishtar had claimed her own space near the fire, loudly proclaiming that a star goddess required proper warmth. "This mortal body is so inefficient at temperature regulation," she complained to anyone who would listen. "In my divine form, I radiated heat like a sun!" Ishtar sighed dramatically, huddling closer to the flames. "This fragile shell is absolutely maddening."
Nearby, Ereshkigal had found a shadowed alcove, content to observe quietly. Her blonde hair caught the firelight as she studied the villagers with quiet curiosity. "They're so... alive," she murmured to herself. "So vibrant despite their brief existence."
ORT had positioned herself in a corner, her inhuman eyes taking in every detail of the room with unnerving intensity. Her movements remained slightly off—too fluid, too precise for a human form—as if she was still learning how to operate her new body.
Koyanskaya had somehow charmed several village men into providing her with extra blankets and the choicest portions of food. Her fox-like charm remained potent even without supernatural enhancements, and she wielded it with practiced expertise.
"Such accommodating hosts," she remarked, accepting a cup of warm sake with a smile that made the young farmer who offered it flush crimson. "One might almost forget we're stranded in a primitive realm."
Tomoe had settled against a wall, her posture alert despite her evident fatigue. She was examining a farmer's sickle with professional interest, testing its balance and edge.
"Crude," she assessed, "but serviceable with proper technique." She glanced toward Shien, who stood by the entrance, his attention still focused on the village beyond. "In my mortal life, I once held off an army with nothing but a tanto and my will to survive."
Castoria approached Shien, her concern evident as she noticed the blood seeping through his haori where the demon's claw had caught his shoulder.
"You're injured," she said, gesturing to the wound. "May I?"
Without waiting for permission, she began examining the injury with practiced hands. Shien tensed at the unexpected contact but didn't pull away.
"I was a healer once," she explained, tearing a clean strip from her own garment to bind the wound. "Among other things. The cut isn't deep, but could demons in this world inflict infections with their claws?"
"No," Shien replied simply. "But it will slow me down if left untreated."
"Then it's fortunate you have us now," she said, securing the makeshift bandage with gentle efficiency. "Nine pairs of eyes are better than one, even if we lack our powers."
Shien met her gaze, his mismatched eyes unreadable. "You're a liability in combat."
Rather than take offense, Castoria's expression became thoughtful. "For now, perhaps. But we were not always divine beings, Shien Kurogane. Some of us remember what it was to be mortal—to fight, to bleed, to strategize with nothing but our wits and whatever weapons came to hand."
"Tomoe proved useful as a distraction," he acknowledged reluctantly.
"And that was just the beginning," Castoria assured him. "Give us time. We may surprise you."
Shien's gaze drifted across the room, taking in each of the women in turn. They were adapting, each in their own way. Not ideal companions for demon hunting, but perhaps not entirely useless either.
He moved toward the door, intending to make one final patrol before allowing himself rest.
"Where are you going?" asked Castoria.
"To ensure no more demons are nearby."
"And if you move beyond a hundred meters from us?"
Shien paused. The binding circle's restrictions worked both ways—if he moved too far, he would drag them along whether they willed it or not. An inconvenience, but one he would have to adapt to.
"I'll stay within range," he said finally.
As he stepped into the cold night air, Void Shiki materialized beside him, moving so silently even he hadn't sensed her approach.
"The binding weakens slightly with distance," she observed. "Did you notice?"
Shien glanced at her. "Explain."
"At the edge of the hundred meters, there is... flexibility. A few more steps become possible, though painful. With practice, that threshold might be extended."
"You've tested this already?"
She nodded once. "While you fought. The one called ORT did as well, though her methods were less subtle."
Useful information. If the binding could be stretched, perhaps eventually it could be broken altogether. Shien filed this away for later consideration.
"You see death," he said abruptly, recalling her introduction in the temple chamber.
Void Shiki's blue eyes met his, something ancient and unknowable stirring behind them. "I see many things. Death is merely one aspect."
"In my world, death is constant. You and the others will be exposed to it daily."
"Does this concern you?" she asked, her head tilting slightly.
Shien looked out over the damaged village, where families mourned those lost to the demon attack despite his intervention. "I work alone because I answer only for my own life. Now I answer for nine more."
"We did not ask to be bound to you," Void Shiki reminded him gently.
"No," he agreed. "Just as I did not ask to bind you. Yet here we stand."
She studied him for a long moment, her gaze so penetrating that Shien—who had stared down demons without flinching—found himself fighting the urge to look away.
"You are not what you appear to be, demon hunter," she said finally. "There is more death in you than in those you slay."
Before he could respond, she turned and drifted back into the communal hall, leaving him alone with the night and the weight of nine new responsibilities.
Chapter 3: Nine Paths Diverge
Dawn broke with muted gray light filtering through the communal hall's paper windows. Shien had spent the night in light meditation, his back against the wall near the entrance, sword within easy reach. He'd dozed intermittently but remained alert to any potential threats.
The nine women had adapted to sleeping arrangements with varying degrees of grace. Morgan and U-Olga Marie had commandeered the most comfortable bedding, while Ishtar had insisted on remaining closest to the now-dwindled fire. Ereshkigal had curled herself into a tight ball in her shadowed corner, as if trying to take up as little space as possible. Tomoe had slept in a sitting position not unlike Shien's, her warrior's habits evident even in rest.
Koyanskaya, interestingly, had chosen to sleep near the door—not far from Shien himself. Throughout the night, he'd been aware of her golden eyes occasionally opening to study him before closing again, her expression unreadable in the darkness.
Castoria had taken on the role of caretaker, ensuring everyone had sufficient blankets before settling herself in a spot where she could see the entire group. ORT hadn't appeared to sleep at all, instead remaining perfectly still in her corner, eyes open but unfocused, as if in some alien form of rest.
Void Shiki had been the last to settle, choosing a spot directly beneath the room's only window, where moonlight had bathed her white kimono in silver glow for much of the night.
Now, as consciousness returned to the group, the reality of their situation seemed to sink in anew. They were still bound to a strange world and a silent swordsman, still stripped of their divine powers, still facing an uncertain future in a realm where demons hunted the night.
"I had hoped it was merely a dream," U-Olga Marie muttered, sitting up and attempting to arrange her elaborate clothing. Without servants or magic to assist her, the complex garments had become hopelessly wrinkled. "How do mortals endure such discomfort?"
"With gratitude for being alive," Tomoe answered dryly, already on her feet and performing a series of stretches that spoke of years of disciplined training. "Perhaps you should try it."
Before U-Olga Marie could retort, Shien rose from his position. "We leave in ten minutes," he announced, his voice cutting through the morning murmurs. "There's a town three days' journey east. We'll find supplies there."
"Three days?" Morgan echoed, aghast. "On foot? Through this wilderness? Absolutely not."
Shien's expression didn't change. "The binding gives you no choice. Unless you've found a way to break it overnight?"
Morgan's lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure, but she offered no protest beyond a glare that would have frozen lesser men solid.
"I don't suppose there are horses available?" Castoria asked the village headman, who had appeared at the door to check on them.
The old man shook his head regretfully. "The demons slaughtered our few beasts of burden, honored guest. We have only one ox remaining, and it is needed for the fields."
"How convenient," Koyanskaya purred, stretching languidly as she rose. Unlike the others, she appeared wholly untroubled by their circumstances, her fox-like features animated with mischief rather than concern. "A forced march through demon-infested territory. How delightfully primitive."
"I require sustenance before any such journey," announced Ishtar imperiously. "Star goddesses do not travel on empty stomachs."
"Star goddesses also don't typically walk on mortal feet," Ereshkigal pointed out quietly, "yet here we are."
Shien ignored the bickering, instead conferring briefly with the village headman about the path ahead. The old man provided what information he could—landmarks to watch for, areas where demons had been spotted in recent months, a stream that would provide fresh water along the route.
Observing this exchange, Castoria approached Tomoe. "He's adaptive," she noted. "For someone who claims to work alone, he's handling this situation with remarkable pragmatism."
Tomoe nodded. "A true warrior does not waste energy fighting circumstances that cannot be changed. He redirects his focus to what can be controlled."
"And what exactly can be controlled in this absurd situation?" U-Olga Marie demanded, overhearing their conversation.
"Our attitudes, for one," Castoria replied with gentle reproof. "Our willingness to learn and adapt. Our choices in how we interact with each other and with this world."
U-Olga Marie scoffed but fell silent, perhaps recognizing the truth in Castoria's words despite her reluctance to acknowledge it.
Breakfast was a simple affair—rice, pickled vegetables, and hot tea. Most of the women accepted the fare with varying degrees of resignation, though Ishtar complained loudly about the lack of flavor and Morgan merely picked at her portion with barely concealed disdain.
Surprisingly, ORT consumed her meal with methodical efficiency, studying each bite as if cataloging new data. "This vessel requires regular fuel input," she observed to no one in particular. "Inefficient but fascinating."
"You make mortality sound so appealing," Koyanskaya remarked sarcastically.
"It is not a matter of appeal," ORT replied, missing or ignoring the sarcasm. "It is simply a different state of existence—one with rules and limitations I had not previously experienced. The novelty has merit."
Before the conversation could continue, Shien appeared at the doorway. "It's time," he said simply, turning without waiting for acknowledgment.
The village headman and several elders had gathered to see them off, bowing deeply to Shien in gratitude for his protection. To the women's surprise, a small bundle of provisions had been prepared for each of them—modest supplies of dried fish, rice balls, and tea leaves.
"We have little," the headman said, "but what we have, we share with those who saved us."
Even Morgan seemed momentarily humbled by this generosity from people who had so little to give. She accepted her bundle with uncharacteristic grace, inclining her head slightly in acknowledgment.
As they prepared to depart, a young girl—perhaps eight or nine years old—approached Shien shyly, offering a small carved wooden figurine.
"For protection," she whispered, placing it in his palm before darting back to her mother's side.
Shien studied the crude carving—a stylized warrior with sword raised—then carefully tucked it into his haori. His expression didn't change, but Castoria, watching closely, thought she detected the faintest softening around his eyes.
The path leading east from the village wound through dense forest before opening onto a series of rolling hills. Shien set a pace that was brisk but not punishing, apparently mindful of his companions' limitations despite his earlier impatience.
They walked in loose formation, with Shien at the lead and Tomoe taking up the rear guard. The others spread between them according to their own preferences—Morgan and U-Olga Marie together, still united in their shared royal indignation; Castoria near the front, occasionally asking Shien quiet questions about the terrain or local flora; Koyanskaya drifting from position to position, seemingly enjoying the opportunity to observe everyone's discomfort.
ORT moved with uncanny grace despite her unfamiliarity with her human form, her eyes constantly cataloging their surroundings with alien intensity. Ishtar complained with every step but kept pace, her pride apparently preventing her from showing weakness. Ereshkigal walked quietly, her expression contemplative as she observed the winter landscape.
Void Shiki maintained a position near the middle of the group, her white kimono somehow remaining pristine despite the muddy path, her presence a still point amid the others' momentum.
By midday, they had covered impressive ground, thanks largely to Shien's relentless pace. When they paused briefly at a stream to drink and rest, Castoria approached him again, this time with a practical concern.
"The binding affects you as much as it does us," she observed. "Your fighting style relies on speed and mobility, yet you're tethered to nine people who can't match your pace in combat."
Shien's gaze remained on the horizon. "I'm aware."
"Perhaps there's a way to work with the constraint rather than against it," she suggested. "In my world, I was a tactician as well as a mage. With your permission, I could observe how the binding functions during combat and develop strategies that account for it."
Shien considered this for a moment, then gave a single nod. "Practical."
Castoria smiled slightly, recognizing that this was as close to enthusiasm as Shien was likely to express. "Thank you. I'll need to understand more about the demons we face—their behaviors, weaknesses, patterns of attack."
"They're stronger at night," Shien offered, surprising her with the voluntary information. "They fear the sun. Most have unique abilities based on how they died as humans. All regenerate unless you remove the head with a nichirin blade." He touched the hilt of his black sword. "This."
"Interesting," Castoria mused. "So decapitation is the only reliable method of killing them?"
"Yes."
"And the binding prevents you from moving more than a hundred meters from any of us," she continued, thinking aloud. "If we could position ourselves strategically during encounters, perhaps form a perimeter that gives you the maximum range of movement while keeping us at a safe distance..."
Shien's eyes narrowed slightly, and Castoria could almost see him visualizing the tactical possibilities.
"It has potential," he acknowledged.
Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden commotion from upstream. Ishtar's voice rose in indignation, followed by splashing and Morgan's imperious tones.
"How dare you!" Ishtar was shouting as Shien and Castoria approached. "I was merely trying to refresh myself!"
The scene that greeted them was chaos. Ishtar stood knee-deep in the stream, her elaborate clothing soaked and clinging to her form. Morgan stood on the bank, equally drenched but maintaining her regal bearing despite water dripping from her platinum hair.
Behind them, Koyanskaya leaned against a tree, making no effort to hide her amusement. "I merely suggested that our divine companions might benefit from experiencing the refreshing aspects of mortal bathing," she explained to Shien, her eyes dancing with mischief. "I had no idea they would interpret it as an invitation to engage in aquatic combat."
"She pushed me!" Ishtar accused, pointing at Morgan.
"After you splashed me," Morgan retorted with frigid dignity. "A queen does not tolerate such disrespect."
Shien's expression remained impassive, but Castoria thought she detected the faintest hint of exasperation in his eyes.
"Dry yourselves," he ordered flatly. "We move on in five minutes."
As he turned away, Koyanskaya fell into step beside him, her voice dropping to a confidential murmur. "Quite the harem you've acquired, demon slayer. A fairy queen, a star goddess, a cosmic horror in human form... most men would be delighted with such company."
Shien didn't spare her a glance. "I'm not most men."
"No," she agreed, her golden eyes studying him with predatory interest. "You're not. That's what makes this all so... fascinating."
Before he could respond, a high-pitched shriek drew everyone's attention back to the stream. U-Olga Marie had apparently decided to retrieve Morgan from the water's edge, only to lose her footing on the muddy bank. She now sat unceremoniously in the shallow water, her elaborate headdress askew and her expression one of utter mortification.
"This indignity will not stand!" she declared, attempting to rise with what dignity she could muster. "I demand assistance immediately!"
To everyone's surprise, it was ORT who moved to help her, extending a hand with mechanical precision. "Your current position is suboptimal for continued locomotion," she observed dispassionately.
U-Olga Marie hesitated, clearly torn between her need for assistance and her uncertainty about accepting help from the strange entity. Finally, practical necessity won out, and she grasped ORT's offered hand.
What happened next occurred so quickly that even Shien barely had time to react. As U-Olga Marie rose, her foot slipped again on the streambed. She lurched forward, dragging ORT off-balance. Both women toppled toward the bank—directly into Shien, who had moved forward to intervene.
The three collided in a tangle of limbs and wet clothing. U-Olga Marie found herself pressed against Shien's chest, her face mere inches from his. ORT had somehow ended up half beneath him, her inhuman eyes widening slightly at the unprecedented physical contact.
For a frozen moment, nobody moved. Then U-Olga Marie's face flushed crimson.
"Unhand me this instant, you... you mortal!"
Shien extricated himself with fluid grace, his expression unchanged despite the unexpected intimacy. He rose to his feet, extending a hand to each woman with businesslike efficiency.
U-Olga Marie accepted his assistance with reluctant gratitude, while ORT studied his hand for a moment before taking it, her head tilting curiously as their fingers made contact.
"Thermal exchange occurs," she noted. "Your body temperature exceeds standard human parameters."
Shien released her hand without comment, but Tomoe, who had observed the entire incident with silent amusement, nodded in agreement.
"I noticed it as well when he bandaged my arm yesterday," she confirmed. "He runs hotter than normal humans—like a forge constantly stoked."
"How fascinating," Koyanskaya purred, her eyes gleaming with new interest. "What other unusual qualities might our handsome master possess, I wonder?"
"Enough," Shien said, his tone brooking no argument. "We've wasted time. The sun will set in a few hours, and we need to find suitable shelter before nightfall."
As they resumed their journey, the group's dynamics had subtly shifted. The shared mishap, minor though it was, had punctured some of the tension that had surrounded them since their summoning. Even Morgan and Ishtar seemed less hostile toward each other, united temporarily by the amusement of U-Olga Marie's predicament.
Castoria, observing this, moved closer to Void Shiki, who had watched the entire scene unfold without comment.
"They're adapting," she murmured. "More quickly than I expected."
Void Shiki's pale eyes followed Shien's retreating back. "He is the catalyst," she observed softly. "His presence... changes things."
"In what way?"
"He exists at the boundary between life and death," Void Shiki replied enigmatically. "Such beings draw others to them, like moths to flame."
"Is that what drew you to walk beside him last night?" Castoria asked shrewdly.
Void Shiki's lips curved in the ghost of a smile. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I simply wished to understand the man to whom my existence is now bound."
"And do you? Understand him, I mean?"
"No," Void Shiki admitted. "But I find I wish to."
Ahead of them, Shien paused at the crest of a hill, his posture suddenly alert. He raised a hand, signaling for silence.
In an instant, the light mood evaporated. Tomoe moved forward silently, taking a position at Shien's right. Koyanskaya appeared at his left, her golden eyes narrowed as she scanned the terrain ahead.
"What is it?" Castoria whispered, joining them.
Shien nodded toward a plume of smoke rising from a clearing about a kilometer ahead. "Not a natural fire."
"Demons?" Tomoe asked, her hand instinctively reaching for a weapon she no longer possessed.
"Possibly," Shien acknowledged. "Or bandits. Either way, trouble."
"Bandits I can handle," Koyanskaya remarked, a predatory smile curving her lips. "Even without my divine powers, I retain certain... skills."
"We should avoid conflict if possible," Castoria suggested. "Nine women and one man, regardless of how skilled, would present a tempting target for either demons or human predators."
Shien considered this, his crimson eyes assessing the terrain. "There's no alternate route that wouldn't add days to our journey."
"Then we go through," Tomoe said firmly. "But prepared for combat."
Shien nodded once. "Form a tight group. Tomoe, Koyanskaya, and I will take point. Castoria, keep the others between us and the rear guard."
"And who will be rear guard?" Morgan asked, having approached silently during their discussion.
Shien's gaze shifted to Void Shiki, who had materialized at the edge of their circle. "Can you fight?" he asked bluntly.
"Not as you do," she replied. "But I can observe and warn of approaching threats."
"Good enough."
As they prepared to descend into the valley, reorganizing themselves according to Shien's instructions, Ereshkigal moved to walk beside him.
"There's death ahead," she said quietly. "I may have lost my divine authority over the underworld, but I can still sense its presence."
Shien glanced at her, reassessing the quiet, melancholy woman. "Recent?"
She nodded, her blue eyes troubled. "Very. And... unnatural."
"Stay close," he instructed, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "All of you."
The group moved down the hillside with newfound purpose, their earlier bickering forgotten in the face of potential danger. Even U-Olga Marie and Ishtar maintained disciplined silence, perhaps recognizing that their survival now depended on cohesion rather than individual prominence.
As they approached the source of the smoke, the scent of burning wood gave way to something more acrid—the unmistakable smell of charred flesh. Shien signaled for them to stop at the edge of the tree line, surveying the clearing beyond.
What they saw silenced even the most talkative among them.
A small caravan had been attacked—three wagons now reduced to smoldering ruins. Bodies lay scattered across the ground, some burned beyond recognition, others bearing wounds that no natural animal could inflict.
"Demons," Shien confirmed, his voice hardening. "Recently. Within the hour."
"There could be survivors," Castoria said urgently.
Shien nodded. "Stay together. Move slowly. Watch for ambush."
They entered the clearing cautiously, spreading out just enough to search effectively while remaining within supporting distance of each other. The devastation was comprehensive—goods scattered and destroyed, horses slaughtered, no sign of life among the carnage.
Tomoe moved efficiently through the wreckage, her warrior's eyes assessing the attack pattern. "Multiple assailants," she reported. "They came from all sides simultaneously. A coordinated ambush."
"Demons don't typically coordinate," Shien noted, his expression darkening. "Unless..."
"Unless what?" Koyanskaya prompted when he didn't continue.
"Unless they're being directed," he finished. "By something stronger."
A soft sound from one of the overturned wagons caught Ereshkigal's attention. "There!" she called, already moving toward it. "Something's alive!"
Shien was at her side instantly, blade half-drawn as he approached the wagon cautiously. He motioned for Ereshkigal to stay back, then peered beneath the damaged frame.
A pair of terrified eyes stared back at him from the shadows—a young boy, perhaps ten years old, covered in soot and blood, trembling with fear.
"It's all right," Shien said, his voice softening slightly as he sheathed his blade. "The demons are gone. You're safe."
The boy didn't move, his gaze locked on Shien's crimson eyes with evident terror.
Castoria gently moved Shien aside. "Let me," she said quietly. She knelt by the wagon, keeping her distance but making herself visible to the child. "Hello there," she called softly. "My name is Castoria. We're here to help you. The bad things that hurt your people are gone now."
Slowly, painfully, the boy crawled from his hiding place. His clothes were torn and bloodied, though most of the blood didn't appear to be his own. His eyes darted fearfully between Castoria and the others gathered behind her.
"They came so fast," he whispered, his voice hoarse from smoke or screaming. "Papa tried to fight them, but they were too strong. Too many."
"You're very brave to have survived," Castoria told him gently. "What's your name?"
"Hiroki," the boy answered.
"Hiroki," she repeated warmly. "That's a good name. A strong name."
As Castoria continued to comfort the child, Shien moved away to confer with Tomoe and Koyanskaya.
"The attack was recent," he said quietly. "The demons may still be nearby."
"Hunting for the boy?" Koyanskaya suggested.
Shien shook his head. "They would have found him already if that were their goal. No, they left him deliberately."
"Bait," Tomoe realized, her expression grim. "They expected someone to come investigating. Someone like you."
Shien nodded once. "Demons are growing more strategic. This was planned."
"And now we have a child to protect," Koyanskaya observed, glancing back at where Castoria was now wrapping the boy in a blanket retrieved from their supplies. "How inconvenient for the legendary lone wolf."
Despite her sarcastic tone, her eyes had hardened as she surveyed the destruction around them. Whatever her divine nature had been, it clearly didn't preclude anger at the slaughter of innocents.
"We need to move," Shien decided. "The nearest town is still two days away. We'll make camp before nightfall somewhere more defensible."
As they regrouped, preparing to leave the site of the massacre, Void Shiki appeared at Shien's side.
"The boy changes things," she observed quietly.
Shien didn't disagree. One more life to protect—one more complication in an already complex situation.
"We adapt," he said simply.
Void Shiki studied his profile for a moment. "Yes," she agreed. "We do."
As they left the clearing, Hiroki riding piggyback on Ereshkigal's shoulders (the goddess of death having formed an unexpected bond with the traumatized child), Shien found himself reassessing his priorities. His mission had always been clear—hunt demons, protect the innocent, pursue Muzan relentlessly.
Now, with nine divine women stripped of their powers and a traumatized child added to his responsibilities, the path forward was less certain. Yet one thing remained clear: whatever forces had brought them together, whatever purpose lay behind the ancient summoning circle, he would not abandon those now bound to him.
The lone wolf had become, reluctantly but undeniably, the leader of a pack.
Chapter 4: Moonlit Confrontation
Night fell with unsettling swiftness as they made their way through the densely forested hills. Shien had pushed them hard since leaving the destroyed caravan, keenly aware that demons would be hunting once darkness claimed the land.
They had found a defensible position just as the last light faded—a small clearing on high ground, backed against a cliff face that eliminated the possibility of attack from behind. A freshwater spring bubbled from the rock, providing clean water without needing to descend to the more exposed stream below.
"We'll camp here," Shien announced, surveying the site with a tactician's eye. "Build a fire. Large enough for warmth, small enough not to draw attention from a distance."
The women and Hiroki set about establishing their camp with surprising efficiency. Tomoe organized the collection of firewood, while Castoria and Ereshkigal constructed a simple lean-to against the cliff face to provide shelter for the child. Morgan and U-Olga Marie, after initial reluctance, found themselves assigned to food preparation—a task they approached with the same imperious attention to detail they brought to everything.
Koyanskaya disappeared briefly into the surrounding forest, returning with several small game animals that she'd somehow managed to trap in the gathering darkness.
"Don't look so surprised," she told Shien as she deposited her catch near the nascent fire. "I was the Divine Spirit of Beasts. Even without my powers, I understand how they think, how they move."
ORT had positioned herself at the highest point of their camp, her uncanny eyes scanning the darkening forest below. Despite her alien nature—or perhaps because of it—she had proven to be an excellent sentry, able to detect movement at distances that would challenge even Shien's enhanced senses.
Ishtar, surprisingly, had taken it upon herself to entertain Hiroki. For all her complaints and divine arrogance, she showed unexpected gentleness with the traumatized boy, conjuring shadow puppets in the firelight and telling him stories of stars and distant worlds that distracted him from his recent horrors.
Void Shiki moved silently through the camp, her white kimono catching the moonlight in ways that made her seem more spirit than solid form. She paused occasionally to observe each member of their strange group, her pale eyes missing nothing.
As the night deepened, Shien approached her at the edge of the firelight.
"You sense something," he stated rather than asked.
Void Shiki nodded once. "They're gathering. Not close yet, but approaching. Many of them."
"How many?"
"Twelve," she answered with unsettling precision. "Perhaps thirteen. They move... strangely. As if connected by invisible strings."
Shien's expression hardened. This confirmed his suspicion—the demons were coordinating, likely under the direction of a more powerful entity.
"How long?"
"Two hours, perhaps three."
Enough time to prepare, but not enough to relocate—especially with exhausted companions and a child in tow.
Shien moved to where Tomoe and Castoria sat discussing watch rotations.
"We'll be attacked before dawn," he informed them without preamble. "At least twelve demons, coordinated."
To their credit, neither woman showed panic. Tomoe's expression set into grim determination, while Castoria immediately began mentally adjusting their defense plans.
"We should wake the others," she suggested. "Prepare them."
Shien nodded. "Do it quietly. Don't alarm the boy if possible."
As Tomoe moved to rouse the others, Castoria studied Shien's face in the firelight.
"You've faced worse odds," she observed.
"Yes."
"But not while protecting nine powerless women and a child."
He didn't respond, which was answer enough.
"We're not as helpless as you think," Castoria told him firmly. "Tomoe was a legendary warrior in life. Koyanskaya clearly retains her predatory instincts. Morgan and U-Olga Marie may complain, but they have the bearing of those used to command. Even Ishtar and Ereshkigal have shown adaptability."
"And the others?"
Castoria smiled slightly. "ORT observes everything with those strange eyes of hers. She's learning, adapting to her human form with every passing hour. As for Void Shiki..." She glanced to where the white-clad woman stood motionless at the edge of their camp. "She seems to have a connection to this world that the rest of us lack."
"And you?" Shien asked, surprising her with the direct question.
"I was a tactician before I was a mage," she replied simply. "My magic may be gone, but my mind remains."
One by one, the others joined them, gathering in a tight circle as Shien outlined what they knew and what he proposed.
"The demons are drawn to your residual divinity," he explained. "They sense it like a beacon. Under normal circumstances, I would engage them alone, but the binding limits my range."
"So we become part of your strategy rather than simply hiding," Tomoe concluded, nodding in approval.
"Yes. We form a defensive perimeter. I'll move between positions as needed."
"And the boy?" Ereshkigal asked, glancing toward where Hiroki slept fitfully beneath the lean-to.
"Center of the formation," Shien decided. "Maximum protection."
"We'll need weapons," Koyanskaya pointed out. "Even improvised ones."
Shien nodded. "There are branches that can be sharpened, stones that can be wrapped for striking. Nothing will kill a demon except