The inertia of a world was not something even Think could block indefinitely. Despite Jibril assistance, the barrier she had established eventually shattered.
The mirage-like time portal continued to expand. The previous state, where both sides could only see each other but not cross over, was merely an effect imposed by Think; now, it had reverted to its true form and function.
The humans and yōkai, who had been warily watching one another, suddenly discovered that the hands or claws they extended in daily provocation could actually touch the other side. War erupted in a manner no one had anticipated.
Looking down from the high mountains outside the city, the historic metropolis appeared to be putting on a display of fireworks—fire and electricity burst everywhere. Clouds of black smoke frequently manifested as giant claws, spreading recklessly. Coupled with the swarms of insects summoned by insect yōkai—swarms not yet transformed but terrifying in number—the sight made observers' scalps tingle even from a distance.
Those guarding the city, the frontline of this world, had their own methods of resistance. Onmyōji summoned shikigami or unleashed the pure radiance of spiritual energy; the air was thick with the staccato rhythm of gunfire and the roar of flamethrowers spewing searing heat.
Science and mysticism marched side-by-side. When ancient yōkai revealed their massive true forms, laughing arrogantly as they prepared for a slaughter, they were suddenly pierced through by a thunderous roar. The gaping holes left in their bodies were beyond even the reach of their powerful regenerative abilities.
While it wasn't surprising that modern humans could hold back these ancient demons, the sheer violence of the piercing damage made Sū ěr stare blankly toward its source—the sea.
It was naval artillery. In an era of aircraft carriers and missiles, modern humans had brought out battleships that had long been relegated to harbor defense. Those unfortunate yōkai had just been hit by 406mm armor-piercing shells, which pulverized them along with the surrounding demons and buildings.
Missiles were not absent, either. Although their use was limited to obvious targets to avoid friendly fire, their sheer power drew fearful gazes from many yōkai.
In less than an hour, the city had turned into a meat grinder. This wasn't a mere metaphor for casualties; it was the city's literal state. The corpses of fallen yōkai were piled high on streets and rooftops or hung from buildings. The smell of charred flesh was pervasive, and carbonized torsos were crushed into dry powder upon impact.
Casualties were heavy—not just for the yōkai, but for the military units stationed in the city. Even with a high kill ratio, the unexpected war with an unknown species cost them a price in blood.
The malice and excessive vitality of the frenzied yōkai in their final moments, coupled with unpredictable sorcery fueled by demonic power, would have claimed many more lives if not for the Onmyōji accompanying the troops.
But there were still too few Onmyōji.
And there were far too many yōkai.
The "cannon fodder" was nearly depleted. This first wave consisted mostly of yōkai who charged forward hoping to make a name for themselves; those who survived would gain the prestige and power yōkai value most. The main forces gathered under Great Yōkai banners had not yet officially entered the fray—until now.
"The probing stage is over," Sū ěr sighed.
He had wanted to prevent these unnecessary casualties, but human effort has its limits. In the end, he had only delayed this moment, and the long preparation on both sides had only served to escalate the war's intensity.
Jibril was already flickering through the battlefield.
From the moment the war began, deceased lives transformed into blue-white ghosts. Figures of ghosts appeared among both humans and yōkai, passing through the veil of time toward the place calling them.
The Saigyou Ayakashi.
"I didn't expect you to stay here instead of fleeing with Yuyuko," Sū ěr said, looking at Yakumo Yukari.
"...And where would we run?" Yukari stared blankly at the distant battlefield. This was the first time even she had seen such a wondrous and bizarre spectacle: technology vs. mysticism. "Yuyuko's life was bound to that cherry tree by secret arts long ago. I might have had a solution when the spell was fresh, but after all these years… haha."
"...My condolences," Sū ěr said, unsure of how to comfort the visibly depressed yōkai. "Are all those ghosts being eaten by the cherry tree?"
"Eaten, or returned to the ley lines… the array the Saigyou monk established has undergone a transformation we cannot describe. It might even be the cause of all this… are you going to destroy the array directly?" Yukari asked woodenly.
Destroying the array meant the death of both trees and, by extension, Yuyuko. Yukari had originally sought Sū ěr to destroy it to save her from her fate.
But now, even if the array were left alone, as long as the ghosts from past and present kept entering the cherry tree, Yuyuko would still face death. The tree seemed to be draining her very existence; when Yukari touched her hand, she could almost see the bones and the structures beneath the skin even without direct sunlight.
Sitting on the most important node of the ley lines, the cherry tree was fed by the earth and the corresponding tree. It was a parasitic existence. That the Saigyou monk had forcibly turned it into a blessing for the region was itself an act of defying heaven.
To use the array's power to suppress the tree's potential sentience for years was also an act against nature. By all rights, a tree in such a place should have transformed into a spirit or yōkai long ago, yet it had been held back for centuries.
Now, the Saigyou Ayakashi had finally instinctively realized its chance had come. It wanted to be reborn; it wanted to become a complete life.
It was neither good nor evil; it simply was.