One evening in mid-March, in Nezu, Bunkyō Ward, Tokyo.
For most of the time, March is a season of blooming flowers and warming spring air—a time of gentle breezes and light rain, nurturing new life.
A rather suitable season for idle chatter and social visits.
In the living room of the house known as the Kusunagi family, two elderly men were drinking.
It was not draft beer favored by the young, nor the harsh white liquor that middle-aged businessmen force down during obligatory banquets. Instead, with a single sniff, one could tell it was perfectly warmed salted plum wine.
From the name alone, one could tell it was a drink suited for those approaching the end of their lifespan yet unwilling to submit to time—much like soaking goji berries in tea.
"So then, why the sudden urge to go to Italy?"
The one asking was Grandfather's old friend, Professor Takamatsu.
A man of the same generation as Grandfather, he was a professor at a private university in Tokyo, teaching Western history.
"Hmm? I just want to see an old friend."
The one who answered was the head of the Kusunagi family, Ichirouu Kusunagi, who would be departing for Italy in two days. He had once been a professor of folklore. In his youth, he had traveled to various places and countries under the pretext of research, learning about the world's unique knowledge, customs, cultures, even the spiritual cores of different peoples...
And, of course, the local beauties.
Such a life trajectory would be enviable in any world. Not to mention that his retirement was so relaxed and comfortable, with generous pensions and various benefits.
However, after living so many years, the head of the Kusunagi family had one lingering confusion—why had the family tradition of producing male heirs in every generation suddenly faltered with his grandchildren? Instead of grandsons, there were two girls.
This situation caused the old scoundrel to feel an intense sense of crisis. Back in his youth, he had boasted such legendary tales as "dating while still a student," "staying overnight at a geisha's home," "skipping school for two whole weeks," and "at some point, the married women and elderly ladies close to him began competing with one another by sending gifts." He had fully intended to enjoy bragging about his glorious "battle record" to his grandson.
If they were granddaughters, then the only thing he could do was warn them to be careful not to be deceived by men like him—glib-tongued, sincere-faced, scheming-minded, and handsome and dashing.
However—
Ichirouu Kusunagi recalled the first time he met the two granddaughters.
The younger sister, Shizuka Kusunagi, was a standard energetic little girl, with short brown hair and green eyes. At a glance, one could tell she would grow into a lively and adorable beauty.
But when Ichirouu Kusunagi shifted his gaze to the other figure, his pupils shrank severalfold in an instant.
Even for this seasoned veteran who had traveled across many countries and seen countless beauties of different styles, he had to admit with the most critical eye that the girl before him was a peerless beauty.
She appeared to be around sixteen or seventeen, with black hair. Skin delicate and gentle contours formed exquisite features. Her eyes were closed. From her ears hung a pair of peculiar sun-shaped earrings. She wore a black jacket embroidered with five-clawed golden dragons and strange golden-edged characters. Her satin-like black hair reflected a faint luster as it fell behind her back. A cool and sacred aura surrounded her, dazzling even Ichirouu Kusunagi. For a fleeting moment, he even felt as though a half-real, half-illusory wheel of light flickered behind her head.
Unlike the younger granddaughter who had shouted "Grandpa!" upon seeing him, this eldest granddaughter bore an unmistakable trace of indifference between her brows. Her eyes, when she looked at him, were an unusual shade of gold. With a single glance, it felt as though all his past romantic escapades were laid bare beneath her gaze.
That was the first time in his life he had felt what it meant to be flustered before a junior.
By the time he came back to his senses, for some reason, he had already brought her into the Kusunagi main household.
However, aside from that first meeting, the head of the Kusunagi family never again mustered the courage to visit this granddaughter who had left such a deep impression on him.
At the thought of this, he let out a deep sigh. Even the salted plum wine in his hand had lost its flavor. Perhaps he should simply go out and enjoy himself instead.
...
"...It's a woman, isn't it?"
With a single sentence, his old friend exposed his true purpose. The remark pulled Ichirouu Kusunagi's wandering thoughts back to reality.
"Actually, she's an old acquaintance. You know her too. Do you remember the Italian exchange student named Lucretia who studied at our university?"
"Oh, that woman..." Professor Takamatsu let out a breath of relief. The next moment, however, he nearly spilled the salted plum wine onto the tatami. "Hey, Ichirou, don't tell me you've kept in touch with her all this time?"
"No, not exactly. We only recently reconnected. I sent a letter to the Italian address she once gave me, and I received a reply. It's been about forty years now. Something she left behind in Japan has somehow made its way into my hands. If possible, I'd like to return it to her personally..."
But such words were hardly convincing.
Professor Takamatsu's face was full of contempt as he demanded fiercely, "Wait, wait! Didn't you promise Chiyo you'd never see her again? Have you forgotten?"
For reference, Chiyo was the name of Hikari's grandmother, who had passed away several years ago—a very traditional Japanese woman's name.
Even now, Grandfather Ichirou still carried a certain charm. In his youth, he had been a handsome man with a silver tongue, impeccable diplomacy, and extraordinary insight into human nature. In short, he had been extremely popular with women—and he never refused anyone who came his way.
To put it bluntly, he was the textbook template of a smooth-talking scoundrel. Unfortunately, many women in this world inexplicably fell for exactly that type.
Naturally, Grandmother had exhausted every possible effort in response to her husband's conduct. As for the effectiveness of those efforts—that was hard to say.
Faced with his old friend's accusations, the seasoned rogue remained calm and unblushing. "The promise... wasn't it just that I wasn't allowed to see her off at the airport?"
"No way! You definitely remember and are just playing dumb. Besides, there's no need for you to deliver it in person. Just send it by airmail."
Professor Takamatsu sternly criticized the deliberately obtuse grandfather.
"It seems to be something quite valuable. If it were damaged in transit, that would be troublesome. And besides, I'd like to take a trip to Italy and chat with Lucretia after so many years."
"...Do you even speak Italian?"
"Not at all. But when the boat reaches the bridge, it will straighten itself out. It'll be fine."
This feigned ignorance, however, was clearly insufficient to quell Professor Takamatsu's indignation.
"No matter what, I absolutely refuse to let you go meet your mistress. Even for Chiyo's sake, I must stop your scheme."
Creak—
Just as Professor Takamatsu was on the verge of flipping the table, the sliding door opened from the outside.
An ethereal, cool voice drifted in from the figure at the doorway.
"Since Grandfather's journey carries certain taboos, allow me to go in your stead."
"Uh... Satsuki, don't misunderstand. I'm only going to see an old friend..." For some reason, Ichirouu Kusunagi—who could play dumb with ease in front of anyone—fell into a rare state of flustered scrambling when facing his granddaughter's eyes. "We're just friends of different genders who respect each other. Please, don't misunderstand."
In response, the black-haired girl standing at the doorway merely glanced at him indifferently.
"Although what one chooses to do is a matter of individual will, I believe it is best not to cause trouble for others. Wouldn't you agree?"
Being labeled as someone who causes trouble for others was something every Japanese person dreaded. Once accused of such a thing, one would immediately risk being abandoned by this seemingly polite yet in truth cold and merciless society.
The reprimand sounded gentle, but it was in fact exceptionally severe—so much so that even Professor Takamatsu froze mid-motion, surprise evident on his face.
"...To think the Kusunagi family would produce such an outstanding—and sharp-tongued—young lady?"
Satsuki stepped into the room. She did not sit down. Instead, she looked directly into her grandfather's eyes.
"Moreover, this concerns a promise made to someone who has passed away. Regardless of the reason, you should give up the idea of going to Italy in person."
"That won't do. It may be unjust toward Chiyo, but a promise to an old friend is also important. I already told her I would deliver what she left in Japan."
—"You mean this?"
As if performing a magic trick, Satsuki drew out a board wrapped in purple cloth from the sleeve of her jacket and placed it upon the low table.
"Eh? How did you know about this?"
This time, Ichirouu Kusunagi was genuinely shocked. Rising from the tatami, he carefully unwrapped the bundle she had set down.
As expected, it was exactly the item he had intended to transport.
On a rectangular stone slab roughly the size of B5 paper was a crudely drawn image—a man bound at both hands and feet by chains. Along the edges were motifs of birds in flight, the sun, the moon, and stars.
The surface was heavily worn, marred with black scorch marks as though burned by fire.
"...A rather interesting ancient artifact, isn't it?"
Satsuki spoke with deliberate implication.
"!"
Shock flickered across Ichirouu Kusunagi's face. His trembling hand slowly settled upon the stone slab, yet his gaze remained fixed on the black-haired girl before him.
"...Why did you notice this item?"
"Before Grandmother passed away, she told me quite a few anecdotes about your youth," Satsuki replied calmly. "Especially about certain sensitive individuals. For example, a cursed village. An Italian witch who visited a shrine burned down by irreverent people, offered this object there, and suddenly the retribution vanished."
"But how did it end up in Ichirou's hands?" Professor Takamatsu asked with interest.
"That village has been abandoned for over a decade," Ichirou explained. "The shrine's caretaker was troubled over how to handle this slab, as they did not know where its owner was. But they remembered clearly the student who had once visited—namely me. After some time, they managed to contact me..."
"And so, forty years later, Grandfather suddenly decides to return it to Italy personally?"
Satsuki keenly pointed out the inconsistency. Forty years was more than enough time. If he truly wished to return it, a traveling folklore professor could have done so long ago. Why wait until now? If he were not suffering from senility, then there must be something else at play.
The inference was not difficult—especially considering that Satsuki had already examined every hidden storage place of the Kusunagi household during this time.
Having descended into the Divine Arena, her current identity was a member of the so-called Kusunagi family. From the name alone, it was clear this was a standard Japanese lineage. And a family bearing the name "Kusanagi" was certainly no ordinary one within Japan.
At present, Satsuki occupied the position that originally belonged to the protagonist, Godou Kusanagi, replacing his identity and entering this peculiar world under unusual circumstances.
The first task upon arriving in this world had been to gather intelligence and understand its nature.
Examining Ichirouu Kusunagi's "treasure vault" was a convenient shortcut.
Though called a treasure vault, it was merely a collection of records—texts and artifacts documenting the histories, myths, and legends of various countries and peoples.
As mentioned earlier, Ichirouu Kusunagi had traveled extensively in his youth as a folklorist. Because of that, the Kusunagi household had accumulated many intriguing objects—objects that revealed numerous clues about this world's true nature.
Satsuki's Tenseigan was capable of discerning subtle traces of power. Among the vast majority of useless myths, her eyes could swiftly distinguish truth from fabrication.
The conclusion she reached differed greatly from her expectations.
In this land, gods had become tangible entities capable of directly intervening—and they shared a peculiar connection with humanity.
Moreover, within certain ancient texts that still emitted faint divine power, she discovered a very interesting term—Heretic God.
Throughout history, it was humans who bestowed names and myths upon gods.
Powerful deities who threatened humanity, and at times granted humanity blessings.
In primordial ages, they had no names.
Humans merely perceived the presence of gods in the vast sky and earth, feared the storms and floods born of divine wrath, and worshipped dangerous beasts as incarnations of divinity.
Yet over the long passage of time, humans gave the gods names and wove myths around them.
Just as she had once learned in the world of Inuyasha—a name is a binding force.
For example, the creator god of the earth, Ilúvatar. The god of the battlefield, Heracles. The goddess of abundance, Artemis.
For example, Ogun, the god of struggle and smithing. Tezcatlipoca, both a savage god of warriors and a god of destruction.
For example, Susanoo, the wanderer who chased across the High Plain of Heaven—the dwelling place of Japan's eight million gods. Vishnu, who possesses ten incarnations.
There are as many gods as there are stars.
To be given a name also means to be bound. One could say it is a ritual devised by insignificant humanity to prevent divine authority from growing too overwhelming.
A god who has obtained a name and myth will not act beyond the scope of those definitions. When granting blessings or receiving offerings, they act according to their assigned roles.
Thus, humanity can prepare for divine threats or blessings.
However—
If a god acts beyond the meaning represented by its name and myth...
If a god returns to a more primordial state, constrained by fewer myths...
Such a god is called a Heretic God.
They defy the myths woven by humanity and wander upon the earth. When they roam within the nations of the people who once gave them names, they are like water flowing across barren land.
Sooner or later, a Heretic God will bring calamity upon the world.
If a sun god descends, the entire world will become unbearably scorched.
If a sea god descends, the world will be swallowed by waves and sink beneath the ocean.
If a god of the underworld descends, plagues will spread to every corner of the earth, turning it into a city of death.
If a god of judgment descends, the people who dwell there will suffer various punishments for their sins.
Even the slightest excess can produce such effects upon the world. A calamity-bearing god who shapes reality according to its own whims—
That is what is known as a Heretic God.