Which do you prefer Youtou Hime or Demon-sword princess?
**
A burst of purple light ripped through the battlefield.
Hollow Purple.
It tore across the frozen wasteland like a divine judgment, annihilating everything in its path. The impact alone reshaped the terrain behind Yuki-Onna into an empty void of scorched earth and vaporized rock.
Had Akiyama Ren not layered the area with a reinforced Curtain in advance—one bolstered with ancient Onmyoji boundary scripts and reinforced Jujutsu seals—the entire region would've been reduced to ash within seconds.
Any other barrier would've crumbled instantly under such force.
But not Ren's.
This was his power—terrifying, precise, overwhelming. And the most staggering part?
He hadn't even tapped into one-tenth of his actual strength.
Yuki-Onna, pale and ethereal, turned slowly to glance behind her. Her sapphire eyes trembled at the sheer destruction. A long silence passed before she finally fell to her knees, pressing her forehead to the ice.
"…I surrender. Please accept me, Master."
Ren floated down from above, landing softly as cursed energy radiated from his body like a controlled storm. He studied her calmly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in satisfaction.
"Not bad," he said, brushing stray snowflakes from his shoulder. "Is this your way of pledging loyalty?"
Yuki-Onna bowed lower. "Yes. From this moment forward, I exist only as the blade in Master's hand. Use me however you desire."
"Oh? However I desire?" Ren raised an eyebrow, amused. "Does that extend beyond combat… say, easing some of life's burdens?"
His tone shifted slightly, playful yet unreadable.
Yuki-Onna blushed, her usually stoic expression cracking. "If Master desires it… I shall serve in all things. I only ask that you not cast me aside."
"Very obedient," Ren replied, gently placing a hand on her silver-white hair. "I look forward to seeing what you can do."
Her face flushed deeper, and she quietly stepped aside as instructed.
"Alright," Ren said, rolling his shoulders. "Time for the next one."
He raised a finger and drew a sigil in the air—an invocation blending traditional Onmyoji summoning with custom technique sequences of his own invention. The circle flared, and with a ripple in space, his fifth Shikigami emerged.
Hakuro.
There was no dramatic weather shift like with the Snow Woman. No storm, no chill. Just a soft rustle of wind and the faint scent of trees.
She appeared gracefully—long silver hair tied back into a battle-ready ponytail, two furred ears twitching on her head. Dressed in Sengoku-style armor with a feminine cut, a ceremonial bow strapped to her back, she had the air of a war maiden from an ancient shrine. Her forehead bore a crimson sigil that pulsed faintly with spiritual power.
Ren's eyes sparkled.
"Forest Princess skin, huh? Lucky me."
This wasn't the beastlike Hakuro from the early days of the Onmyoji archives. No, this was her refined form—graceful, intelligent, deadly.
And very much his type.
But to his surprise, she didn't raise her weapon or issue a challenge.
Instead, she knelt gracefully on one knee. "Hakuro greets her Master. I have witnessed your strength. It is more than enough."
Ren blinked. "No fight?"
"Unnecessary," she said calmly. "Yuki-Onna resisted and was crushed. I see no value in pointless defiance."
"Well," Ren chuckled, "makes my job easier. You're practical—I like that. Rise."
Obediently, she stood beside the Snow Woman—calm, alert, and composed.
A silver-haired, beast-eared big sister type. Beautiful, loyal, dangerous. A perfect addition.
Next came the sixth summon—Ubume.
The summoning seal shimmered again, this time with golden light, and from within it emerged a figure wrapped in flowing feathers.
She, too, bore a unique form—the Golden Crane Feather variant. More humanoid than her original design, though her wings remained in place of arms, feathered and long like those of a celestial crane.
She landed softly, eyes downcast in humility. "Ubume greets Master."
Another clean surrender.
Ren nodded approvingly. "Good. Take your place."
She stepped to the side, wings folding respectfully behind her.
At this rate, Ren thought, he'd complete the ten-fold Shikigami subjugation far quicker than expected. His show of force during the battle with the Snow Woman had clearly echoed through the spiritual realm.
He didn't mind. Less resistance meant more time to integrate their techniques into his arsenal.
And so, he called forth the seventh.
Shiro Mujou.
A ripple in space, then silence.
Clad in a crimson-edged white robe reminiscent of an ancient funeral procession, the figure that emerged had alabaster hair and glowing red eyes. He held a spirit banner in one hand, cold and dignified, with a sharpness that spoke of death and rebirth.
Though inspired by mythic psychopomps, this entity wasn't some ghost from Chinese folklore. His aura carried the chill of death, as if he had stepped straight from a haunted shrine deep in the heart of the spirit world.
The male Shikigami dropped to one knee, palm over chest.
"Shiro Mujou, at your command, Master."
Ren smirked, arms folded.
Ren raised a brow. "No resistance either? Huh. That saves time. Stand to the side."
He waved his hand dismissively. Unlike the female Shikigami with unique quirks or aesthetic appeal, this one was more utility than flair—still, a powerful addition to the roster.
Shiro Mujou stood up wordlessly and joined the others.
Now for the eighth summon.
Kuro Mujou appeared in a flash of obsidian light.
The contrast between the two was immediate—he wore black and crimson armor in the style of a Sengoku-era executioner. A massive jet-black scythe rested over one shoulder, and a katana was sheathed at his side. Like his counterpart, he had sharp red eyes, but his hair was pitch black, tied into a loose ponytail. His presence exuded controlled violence—like a curse waiting to be unsealed.
"Kuro Mujou, reporting to Master," he said with a low, respectful tone, kneeling in synchronization with his sibling spirit.
"Alright, get up." Ren nodded, eyeing the pair.
Though he'd brushed them off at first, seeing them side by side gave him ideas. Their symmetrical aesthetics and coordinated aura could make them excellent for psychological warfare. The name alone—Shiro and Kuro Mujou—carried fear-inducing symbolism across several belief systems. Spirits that guide souls, bring judgment, or drag sinners into oblivion? Perfect for battlefield intimidation.
With the SR-grade Shikigami roster complete, it was time to move on to the heavy hitters.
The SSR-grade Shikigami.
First: the Demon Sword Princess.
Ren clapped his hands together, infusing the summoning circle with both Onmyodo and his personalized Reiryoku channeling technique. The ritual flared to life.
This time, it wasn't just a flash of light or a soft breeze—an oppressive, murderous aura blanketed the entire Curtain.
The atmosphere warped. Scarlet fog oozed across the trees. The once-serene forest setting twisted into something out of a cursed domain. Blood pooled over the earth like spilled ink. Skeletal remains, corpses in various states of decay, and twitching carrion painted the ground. The crimson moon above cast a ghastly glow that made even Ren pause.
At the center of this hellscape stood a woman—tall, graceful, and deathly still. A crimson demon sword rested on her shoulder.
Her kimono was decorated in cherry blossom patterns, now stained with the colors of war. Her long black hair was tied into a high ponytail, and her expression radiated calm fury. The mark of a sealed curse glowed faintly over her collarbone.
Ren's eyes lit up.
"Nice. Another one with a skin. Sakura Rain Sword Dance—that's one of my favorites," he muttered with a grin. "Shame it's not the SP-grade Scarlet Shadow version, but hey, I'm not picky."
Unlike the other Shikigami, this one didn't kneel. Her red eyes stared directly at Ren, brimming with killing intent.
She slowly lifted her blade.
"Oh? So you're not going to submit without a fight?" Ren tilted his head, intrigued.
The Demon Sword Princess remained silent, then—
She swung.
A pressure wave of crimson sword energy tore through the cursed space, slicing the air toward him with pinpoint precision.
Ren's smile didn't waver. With a swift motion, he raised his right hand, fingers forming a precise sword mudra.
"Shin'ei Ken: Phantom Severance!"
A condensed burst of sword-shaped cursed energy erupted from his fingertips. The two attacks clashed mid-air in a violent explosion of pressure and sound.
BOOM!
The Curtain's structure shuddered from the force of the clash. Cracks spider-webbed across the cursed boundary like a shattering mirror, and gusts of residual energy flattened the surrounding terrain.
Ren's eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Now this... this is what I was hoping for."