Chapter 85: Aftermath and a Promise Kept
The blinding white light of the sacred arrow finally dissipated, revealing Kidomaru's figure staggering backward through the gloom.
His left shoulder was a ruin of charred blackness. The arm bone had been shattered, the flesh mangled beyond recognition, and even the splintered fragments of bone were scorched to ash by the sheer spiritual power of Kikyo's attack. If he hadn't managed to twist his body at the last possible second, that single arrow would have annihilated him completely, body and soul, forcing him to die a second, final death.
"Priestess..." Kidomaru's voice was a low, hoarse rasp, laced with a venomous cocktail of shock and rage.
The power contained within that arrow was staggering; even an existence of his caliber could not withstand it head-on. Kikyo's Sacred Arrow was every bit as terrifying as the legends claimed. As long as it found its mark, even a Great Yokai would suffer a grievous wound.
The problem, until now, had been her inability to land a clean hit. Kidomaru's speed was simply too great; her arrows could never quite catch up to his phantom-like movements. To a certain extent, a demon like him, who relied on overwhelming celerity, was a natural counter to the shrine maiden. While Kikyo would never be defeated, she found it nearly impossible to effectively exorcise him, forcing them into a frustrating stalemate.
But now, everything was different.
Kobe Hikaru had used the very power of this corrupted land to drag him down, to anchor him to the earth. It had slowed his speed just enough to expose a fatal weakness.
"Good coordination," Kidomaru panted, his breath coming in ragged bursts.
The ancient, malicious demon stared intently at them. Despite the severe injury, the fury on his face gradually receded, replaced by a cold, sharp wariness. And beneath that, something more: a grudging respect.
"A mere Oni Samurai and a human priestess..." he whispered to himself. "To think they could push me to this extent."
He had never given Hikaru a second thought. Even after the young oni had seemingly crushed those four high-level demons, displaying strength that could rival a true demon lord, Kidomaru had not taken him seriously. Though not a Great Yokai himself, his mastery of the 'Twelve Transformations' and his singular focus on achieving extreme speed placed him in a league of his own. He was far beyond the so-called high-level demons with their paltry seven transformations at most. In terms of pure speed, he could even match a true Great Yokai. Defeating those lesser lords did not mean one could threaten him.
As for Kikyo, while Kidomaru had acknowledged her power, he hadn't truly considered her a threat to his life. He had seen too many powerful human mages in his long, bloody existence—far too many. He recalled the likes of Minamoto no Yorimitsu from ages past, and the legendary Minamoto no Yoshitsune. He even remembered the ancient power of Midoriko. These paragons of humanity had slain countless demons, even Great Yokai among them. Yet, all it took was one fleeting opportunity, one moment of weakness, and they too would fall, either severely wounded or dead.
But this… this situation had truly exceeded his expectations.
This priestess before him.
And this… Oni Samurai.
Hikaru offered no response. He simply stood his ground, the hand gripping Muramasa trembling almost imperceptibly. He projected an aura of calm, but only he knew the true cost of that last gambit. Although the land was feeding him a near-endless supply of power, his body's capacity to channel it had a finite limit. Manipulating the thunderbolts, the poisonous mists, and the legion of undead corpses—every action had been draining his demonic power at an alarming rate.
He was reaching his breaking point.
"You're forcing yourself," Kidomaru observed, his sharp eyes catching the subtle signs of exhaustion. "Your demonic power has bottomed out, hasn't it?"
Hikaru remained silent. But in this tense standoff, his silence was an answer in itself.
"If I attack just one more time…" Kidomaru's gaze turned glacial and chilling. "You won't be able to hold on."
He raised his deep blue longsword. His left arm was gone, but his right hand remained. His speed had been diminished by the exertion, but he was still far faster than any ordinary demon. If he were to unleash his Sword-Halberd: Immeasurable just one more time—
"Do you want to try?"
Kikyo's calm voice drifted from across the clearing. Her bow was drawn taut once more, a second Sacred Arrow already condensing on the string, its tip shimmering with a blinding white light.
Kidomaru's movements froze.
He stared at the figure in the white robes and red hakama, his gaze fixed on the arrow that promised oblivion. He had already tasted the power of the first one. If he took another… even if he succeeded in killing Hikaru, he himself would be left on the brink of death, or perhaps even perish here for good.
Was it worth it? To trade his life for a fragment of the Shikon Jewel and two opponents who had yet to reach their full potential? No, it wouldn't even be a trade. He would die, and they would live.
The answer was obvious.
After a moment of heavy silence, Kidomaru suddenly sheathed his sword with a sharp click.
"Consider today your lucky day," his voice returned to its old, chilling tone. "But don't get too comfortable."
"You only injured one of my arms."
His figure began to fade, blurring as if it were melting into the night itself.
"Next time—"
"It won't be so simple."
As his voice trailed off, the old demon's form vanished completely. The oppressive black mist that permeated the surroundings, the ink-wash painting of his inherent barrier, Rashomon, all dissipated with his departure.
The battle was over.
Neither Kikyo nor Hikaru gave chase. They couldn't have caught him even if they tried. And besides, there was no rush.
Hikaru's voice, though quiet, cut through the sudden silence. "Next time, it might not be you coming to find me."
Since they had already provoked him, since they had made themselves his enemies, he would not simply wait for them to come knocking on his door again. Kyoto, Hagoromo Gitsune—he would go to them when the time was right.
He would wait until his strength was sufficient.
'Dojigiri,'he thought, a flicker of ambition stirring within him.'It's not impossible for me to claim it, either.'
The moonlight, no longer obstructed, spilled down once more, bathing the clearing in its gentle, silver glow. The area that had been trapped within Kidomaru's domain finally returned to normal. The frozen demon corpses dissolved into plumes of black smoke, the solidified air began to flow again, and the grass and trees swayed gently in the night breeze.
Hikaru was still standing in the same spot, but his body had begun to sway unsteadily. The bone armor encasing him shattered and fell away, and the crimson blood mist dissipated into nothing. Cracks spiderwebbed across his demonic mask, revealing the deathly pale face beneath.
"I can't… hold on…" he whispered.
The words had barely left his lips before his legs gave out, and he collapsed backward.
A warm body caught him.
It was Kikyo.
The priestess in white and red had appeared by his side at some point, her arms reaching out to support his falling frame.
"You've worked hard," her voice was incredibly soft, so gentle it was as if she were afraid of disturbing the fragile peace of the night.
Hikaru leaned into her embrace, feeling the warmth of her body seeping through her robes. It was so very warm. And… soft.
"Your wounds—" Kikyo looked down at the gash on his chest, her brow furrowing slightly. It was a parting gift from Kidomaru's blade; though not deep, the dense Yao Qi clinging to it prevented the wound from healing.
"I'm fine," Hikaru's voice was weak. "Just need… a little rest."
Kikyo didn't speak. She simply adjusted her grip, holding him more steadily and letting his head rest against her shoulder. The night wind brushed past, lifting strands of her long, black hair and letting them sweep gently across his cheek. It was soft, carrying a faint, clean fragrance. Like wildflowers in the mountains. And like morning dew.
"You..." Kikyo's voice suddenly broke the silence. "Why did you do this?"
Hikaru turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on her profile. Under the moonlight, her usually cold, composed face wore a rare, complicated expression. It wasn't her usual indifference, nor was it the steely resolve she wore during battle. It was something… softer.
"You clearly could have chosen not to come back," Kikyo said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Kidomaru's target was the Shikon Jewel, not you. As long as you left this area, he wouldn't have pursued you."
"But you still came back."
"And you used such an exhausting method…" Her voice trailed off.
Hikaru was silent for a long moment. Then, a faint smile touched his lips. It looked strained on his pale face, yet it carried an indescribable weight.
"I told you," he said simply.
"I won't leave you alone."
Kikyo's body stiffened. She remembered those words, of course. She remembered them from that interrupted night in the Demon Slayer village. He had said those very words to her then.
And now, he had proven them true. He had stood against that ancient oni and fought with every ounce of his strength. Not for the Shikon Jewel. Not for some grand, righteous cause.
But so she wouldn't have to face the darkness alone.
Kikyo lowered her head, her long black hair falling like a curtain, obscuring her expression. But Hikaru could feel the arm holding him tighten, just slightly.
"...You… fool," she whispered. Her voice was soft, yet it carried a distinct tremor.
Hikaru didn't answer. He just closed his eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion and basking in the reassuring warmth of her presence.
[Shikon Jewel: Naohi: Favorability +2]
[Current Favorability: 60 (Trust)]
[She is worried about you—but it's more than just worry.]
The notification flashed on his internal panel. Hikaru saw it, but paid it no mind.
Because right now, all he wanted was to rest for a while.
Just like this, leaning on her shoulder.
Feeling that comforting warmth.
The barrier around Kaede Village remained intact. The villagers were safe, lost in their dreams, oblivious to the life-and-death struggle that had just unfolded nearby.
Little Kaede lay on the wooden threshold of the shrine, her small body curled up as she waited for her sister to return. She didn't know what had happened, only that she had vaguely heard the rumble of thunder and seen flashes of light in the distance.
Suddenly, her head perked up. Two figures were approaching from the darkness. One was clad in white robes and red hakama, supporting another in grey robes with pale hair.
"Sister!" Kaede jumped to her feet. "And the handsome Big Brother!"
She rushed over and buried her face in Kikyo's robes. "Are you guys okay? What happened to Big Brother? Is he hurt?"
"It's nothing," Kikyo's voice had returned to its usual cool tone. "He's just exhausted and needs to rest."
Kaede peered at Hikaru, who was being supported by her sister, her eyes filled with worry. The pale-faced Big Brother had his eyes closed, a deep look of exhaustion etched onto his features.
But the corners of his mouth… seemed to be curled up in a faint smile?
"Sister," Kaede said suddenly, her voice full of childish certainty.
"Your face is red."
Kikyo's footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second.
"...Nonsense."
She quickened her pace, supporting Hikaru as they moved past the young girl and entered the shrine.
Behind them, Kaede tilted her head, her expression one of pure confusion.
"But it clearly turned red…?"
She was sure she hadn't seen it wrong.
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