Chapter 40: The Whereabouts of Hiraikotsu and a Bold Declaration
The firelight dwindled, its hungry flames finally starved into submission.
Where a shrine worshipped by the villagers for three months had once stood, only a pile of smoking, charred wood and shattered walls remained. The air hung thick and heavy with the mingled stench of scorched timber and spilled blood. In the embers, the giant toad's corpse still sizzled, its fat rendering with a sickening hiss.
Most of the villagers had already dispersed, scurrying back to the relative safety of their homes. A few, however, remained kneeling in the dirt, refusing to rise. They muttered prayers and thanks for their salvation, their words lost to the night. It was unclear whether the god they thanked was the one that had just been slain, or the two who had slain it.
Hikaru paid them no mind. He brushed the dust and grime from his clothes and turned, walking back the way he had come.
Kikyo fell into step beside him, her movements light and silent. Her white kosode and red hakama swayed gently in the night wind, a slash of purity against the grim backdrop.
The blond demon who called himself Nura Rihan did not follow. After a final, amused "How interesting," he had tucked his kiseru pipe back between his lips and sauntered off into the darkness.
Hikaru found nothing strange in this. Nurarihyon were known for their ability to come and go without a trace; it was their specialty. The man seemed to be one who simply enjoyed the spectacle. Running off after the show was over was perfectly in line with his kind's whimsical nature.
The two of them retraced their steps along the narrow path, returning to the cramped, thatched hut that served as their temporary shelter.
Pushing the door open, they stepped inside. The small oil lamp was still burning, casting a dim, yellow glow over the sparse interior. Nothing had changed.
Hikaru walked to the wall and slid down to sit, leaning his back against the rough wood. Kikyo settled back onto the tatami mat, placing her longbow beside her knees.
Their eyes met across the small room.
Silence descended, absolute and deep. The only sound was the soft, intermittent crackle of the oil lamp's wick as it consumed its fuel. The stillness stretched, lasting for what felt like an eternity.
"Why?"
It was Kikyo who spoke first. Her voice was not loud, but in the quiet hut, it was exceptionally clear.
Hikaru looked at her. "Why what?"
"Why go to such lengths?" Kikyo's voice remained calm, carrying its usual cool edge. "Killing that demon, I can understand. It impersonated a god and devoured human lives. It deserved to die." She paused, her gaze unwavering. "But those things you said just now... declaring that you would protect this village in my name, and then announcing your intent to deal with the local lord... this doesn't seem like something you would do just in passing."
Hikaru didn't answer right away. He considered her question for a moment before turning it back on her. "What do you think I did it for?"
"I don't know." Kikyo watched him, her dark eyes appearing exceptionally deep under the lamplight. "That's why I'm asking you."
Still, he delayed, his gaze shifting from her face to the dilapidated wooden window. Outside, the pitch-black sky was slowly softening into a deep, pre-dawn blue.
Then, he smiled.
In the dim yellow light, the expression was somewhat abrupt. With his pale face and crimson eyes, he looked anything but benevolent. And yet, the smile held a strange, disarming frankness.
"Half of it, you could say, was for the sake of this village," he said. "The other half—"
"Is for us."
Kikyo's brow furrowed slightly. "Us?" she repeated, her tone laced with confusion.
"Hiraikotsu," Hikaru stated, the name falling flat and heavy in the small room.
Kikyo's eyes narrowed. She was intelligent; she didn't need a lengthy explanation to grasp the implication. "You mean... Hiraikotsu is in that lord's hands?"
"There's an eighty percent chance," Hikaru said, pushing himself into a more upright posture. He had run through these inferences in his mind countless times already but hadn't found the right moment to voice them. "Think about it."
He raised a single finger. "You said the old man would have been carrying Hiraikotsu with him at all times."
"But we didn't find it on his body, nor did we find any sign of it along the path he took to get here. He certainly wouldn't have just discarded such an important weapon in some random place."
"So, there is only one possibility."
Kikyo's eyes narrowed further, her brow creasing in thought. "Are you saying... Hiraikotsu was stolen?"
"Whether he was tricked or robbed, both are possible. But there's a high probability it wasn't done by a demon." Hikaru raised his finger again. "After all, we asked so many stones and trees along the way. In the memories of those things, there were indeed traces of demons hunting him, scenes of him fighting back, but not a single one mentioned Hiraikotsu. If a weapon that massive were taken by a demon in the middle of the wilderness, it's impossible for there to be no witnesses."
Her frown deepened as she began to follow his train of thought. "So you believe... Hiraikotsu wasn't taken by a demon, but was swindled away by a human?"
"Exactly." Hikaru nodded. "The distance from the demon slayer village to your own is not short. He would have inevitably passed through human territories. Demons were hunting him, and he fought as he fled, eventually becoming exhausted. If, during that process, he passed through a certain town or checkpoint..."
He glanced toward the window, in the direction of the lord's castle.
"And there just happened to be a group of greedy soldiers... who saw a half-dead old man carrying a massive weapon that looked extremely valuable..."
"What do you think they would do?" he asked softly. "And what do you think that village chief, the one who sent those men to 'investigate' the toad god, would do?"
Kikyo fell silent, processing the information. The inference was logical. Frighteningly so.
"That castle lord's domain is right on the old man's necessary path," Hikaru continued. "Hiraikotsu is forged from demon bones; it's clearly no ordinary item. If it was found or snatched by those soldiers on the road, they would have undoubtedly presented it to their master."
Finally, the full picture clicked into place for Kikyo. "So when you said you wanted to protect this village and deal with that lord..." she murmured, "it wasn't just for these villagers, but also to retrieve Hiraikotsu."
"Killing two birds with one stone. Or even three," Hikaru admitted without a hint of shame. "Killing that toad was the first matter. Dealing with the lord who oppresses his people is the second. And taking back Hiraikotsu along the way is the third. Three problems, settled in one trip."
He spoke with a casual nonchalance, as if discussing a simple errand.
Kikyo watched him quietly. The lamplight flickered, illuminating the cool, elegant lines of her face. "You are very bold," she said. It was a statement of fact, yet it carried the weight of a sigh.
"I wasn't this bold before," Hikaru answered honestly.
And he hadn't been. He would never have dared to directly assault a human settlement. Setting aside the fact that there was no shortage of powerful individuals among humans, even their weak, average soldiers, when gathered in the hundreds or thousands, possessed a strength that ordinary demons wouldn't dare to provoke.
"Then why do you dare now?" The question was direct.
Hikyo simply stared at her. The dim lamplight shone on her exquisite face, making her dark eyes glitter. The collar of her white kosode was slightly open, revealing the pale, graceful curve of her neck. A few strands of her jet-black hair clung to her skin, trembling almost imperceptibly with each breath.
He suddenly smiled again.
"Because you're here." He said it as if it were a matter of course, as simple and obvious as one plus one equaling two. "The strongest miko of the Sengoku period, who can slay powerful high-level demons with a single arrow."
"That Kamaitachi from before was blown to pieces by your shot. Tonight, if your arrow hadn't pinned the toad's leg, my blade might not have found its mark. With you backing me up, what do I have to fear?"
He wore an expression of complete entitlement.
"Even if that lord has hundreds of men, as long as you're there, I'll dare to charge in. At worst, you shoot from the back, and I'll slash from the front. We coordinate so well, just like last night."
Kikyo's expression froze. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but as she looked at Hikaru's self-righteous face, she found herself at a loss for words.
This person... this demon... how could he say such things so... so...
Was he complimenting her? Or was he treating her as some kind of all-purpose tool?
The silence stretched for several long breaths before Kikyo finally managed to squeeze out a single word.
"Nonsense."
[Shikon no Tama: Naohi: Affection +1]
[Current Affection: 47 (Trust)]
[It conveys a message to you: 'She didn't deny it. She's just shy.']
Watching the prompt appear on the panel, the curve of Hikaru's lips widened. As expected. That fellow Naohi was quite perceptive.
"How is it nonsense?" he pressed.
"I am not the 'strongest' miko." Kikyo lowered her head, her fingers finding the bowstring on her lap and fiddling with it, her gaze avoiding his.
"Who says?"
"I do," she replied, her voice very soft. "This world is vast, and there are many powerful people. The great Onmyoji in Kyoto, the exorcists in various regions... there are people stronger than me everywhere. I am only... doing what I ought to do."
Hikaru watched her. The candlelight flickered, casting the figure in white and red in shifting patterns of light and shadow. Her lowered eyelashes cast faint smudges on her cheeks. Her fingers continued to stroke the bowstring in a mechanical, repetitive motion, as if her mind were somewhere else entirely.
Beautiful. And stubborn.
"Who cares who is the strongest," Hikaru said. "In my eyes, you are. That's enough."
Kikyo looked up. An unreadable emotion swam in the depths of her dark eyes. It wasn't anger, nor was it shyness. It was something more akin to... helplessness.
"That mouth of yours," she said.
"What about it?"
"It's very silver-tongued."
Was that a compliment? Hikaru felt it probably was. Even if it didn't quite sound like one.
[Inorin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me and keeps these daily updates flowing!
Want to read 50 chapters ahead or just want to help keep a shameless translator alive? (My livelihood actually depends on this, haha 😭). You can support me directly here:
(P.S. Just remove the brackets and replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters): patreon[.]com/InorinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/InorinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]