Chapter 32: Ibaraki Doji VS Mahoraga
Nakiri Senzaemon heard these approaching footsteps, his breathing tightening, his hands and feet turning cold, and his face gradually draining of color.
Nakiri Erina likewise experienced severe discomfort. The sound of the footsteps wasn't loud, but it felt like a drum mallet pounding against her heart, making her entire body break out in goosebumps, leaving her profoundly uncomfortable.
Yumesaki's eyes betrayed a hint of surprise. He hadn't expected the appearing yokai to be quite adept at building an atmosphere.
Though for himself, Medea, and Nero, this display was completely useless.
But for Nakiri Senzaemon, Nakiri Erina, and even the Zashiki-warashi Kazuko, it exerted a powerful pressure.
"Umu, Praetor, this noise is truly obnoxious."
Right at this moment, Nero suddenly spoke up, shattering the tense atmosphere deliberately constructed by the sound of the footsteps.
Nakiri Senzaemon, Nakiri Erina, and even Kazuko felt as though they had been pulled right out of a freezing ice cave. Their breathing returned to normal, their body temperatures began to warm up, and the pressure within their chests vanished.
The three of them gazed at Nero with deep gratitude.
Nero lifted her head and looked forward.
In front of the Nakiri residence entrance, a figure materialized from the darkness and slowly stepped inside.
He possessed neatly styled white hair, his aged face resembling a Myo-o statue from an ancient temple, his eyes deep as if they could pierce through any illusion.
His pace was measured. Every time his foot made contact with the ground, the flooring beneath him cracked into a delicate spiderweb pattern.
The long sword hanging at his waist remained unsheathed, yet an invisible aura of sharp pressure had already spread out in all directions.
Yumesaki recognized him; this appeared to be Kidomaru.
A subordinate of Hagoromo-Gitsune.
After Kidomaru stepped inside, he halted his advance, looking as though he were waiting for something.
The ground suddenly shuddered, releasing a heavy and violent vibration, like a sledgehammer smashing against a city gate.
Another yokai made his appearance. He wore a kimono, his physical build mighty like a mountain boulder brought to life, every single muscle brimming with destructive force.
His breathing was heavy, resembling the gusts of wind from a blacksmith's bellows, the breath he exhaled condensing into white mist in the cold night air.
The most striking feature was his weapon, a massive iron club, a kanabo, resting upon his shoulder, gleaming coldly beneath the ambient lights.
He stood right behind Kidomaru, resembling an unshakeable Myo-o guardian.
Kyora, who was also a subordinate of Hagoromo-Gitsune.
Yumesaki recalled that in the original timeline, this creature was supposed to have been slain by Nurarihyon four hundred years ago. To think that in this world, this Kyora was actually still alive.
At this moment, a third yokai emerged.
It was a handsome, black-haired man, but the left side of his face consisted of a block of wood standing upright, which served as his father's tombstone.
And his father was named Shuten Doji.
As for himself, his name was Ibaraki Doji.
Three great yokai stood side by side, their gazes scanning Yumesaki's group.
Kidomaru's gaze locked onto the Zashiki-warashi Kazuko standing behind Nakiri Senzaemon, "Have you reached a decision, Zashiki-warashi? Will you align yourself under the command of Hagoromo-Gitsune-sama? Or do you wish to accompany this flock of fools to the underworld, to Yomi?"
"Hold on a moment."
Right at this juncture, Yumesaki suddenly spoke out: "Your situation here has something off about it."
Kidomaru stared at Yumesaki expressionlessly, his right hand slowly gripping the hilt of his sword, a powerful aura of sharp pressure pressing down toward Yumesaki, looking as though he intended to cleave Yumesaki in two.
Yumesaki remained completely unmoved, acting as if he were entirely oblivious to the sharp aura.
"I have one question. Even though a Zashiki-warashi is a yokai, aside from granting good fortune to others, she doesn't seem to possess any other special abilities. The strength of any single one of you three would be more than enough to kill a Zashiki-warashi with ease."
"Why did Hagoromo-Gitsune dispatch the three of you simultaneously? This makes no sense."
It was important to note that Kidomaru, Kyora, and Ibaraki Doji were the most combat-proficient yokai under Hagoromo-Gitsune's leadership.
Just one of them alone could effortlessly annihilate the Nakiri family.
Yet Hagoromo-Gitsune sent three at once.
This was akin to using a massive cannon just to swat a fly that could easily be dealt with by a simple flyswatter.
No matter how one looked at it, it was bizarre.
Kidomaru spoke expressionlessly: "I am under no obligation to answer your query."
Yumesaki let out a sigh, not particularly surprised by this reaction. Not everyone possessed the desire to offer explanations.
"Forget it, I might as well see for myself. Nero, make your move."
Following Yumesaki's command, Nero, who was already raring to go, promptly stood up, "Arise, the pinnacle of my glory! Manifest the supreme light right here!"
In an instant, the world flipped upside down.
The luxurious Aestus Estus Domus Aurea manifested, replacing the grand villa of the Nakiri family, enveloping everyone present within its bounds.
Kidomaru, Ibaraki Doji, and Kyora—the three of them appeared dead center on the grand stage of the Domus Aurea.
Meanwhile, Yumesaki and the others appeared in the spectator seating, looking down at the three individuals whose expressions had drastically shifted.
Oh, rather, the three yokai.
Kidomaru spontaneously furrowed his brows, "This is... a Domain?"
Ibaraki Doji shook his head, "Not quite, but it bears a striking resemblance to a Domain."
Kyora exhaled a breath of turbid air, his eyes glaring coldly at Nero.
"Welcome to my Domus Aurea," Nero spoke in a theatrical, operatic flair: "From this moment forth, you three yokai are mere instruments for my entertainment."
"Should your performance manage to please me, I shall naturally set you free."
"However, if your performance proves so tedious that it induces slumber, then I shall be forced to eradicate you entirely right here."
"I do hope you will not disappoint me."
The moment those words left her lips, on the center stage in front of the three yokai, an ancient general clad in heavy armor and wielding a massive blade slowly materialized before them.
It was none other than the Shikigami modified by Yumesaki, Mahoraga.
Mahoraga's eyes locked onto the three yokai. He let out a roaring howl, and a ferocious shockwave of air swept outward like a landslide and tsunami combined.
The immense impact caused the expressions of the three yokai to turn solemn. This creature was not an opponent that could be disposed of casually.
Yumesaki's voice echoed from up high.
"Kill them."
Upon receiving the order, Mahoraga stomped the ground with immense power, his entire form launching forward like a cannonball directly toward the three yokai.
Just as Kidomaru prepared to make his move, Ibaraki Doji had already struck first.
Thunder exploded within the darkness.
Ibaraki Doji's blade ripped through the air, a bolt of blue-white lightning snaking out like a gargantuan python, slamming violently into Mahoraga's body.
The air ionized into a scorched aroma, the ground beneath the assault cracking and collapsing as stone fragments flew outward like shrapnel.
Mahoraga was instantly blasted backward.
Ibaraki Doji granted him no room to catch his breath. Spinning the sword in his grip, a second bolt of lightning had already surged forth from the blade's edge. This time, three bolts of lightning descended simultaneously, resembling three spears of judgment pinned into the earth.
Mahoraga had barely raised his right arm in an attempt to parry when the lightning pierced straight through his wrist, his entire palm disintegrating into dust.
Immediately following that, the third strike fell. A pillar of lightning slammed directly into the center of his chest. Amidst a muffled explosive blast, Mahoraga's upper torso along with his armor shattered, forming a gaping hole that tore straight through to his back, with residual blue electricity crackling along the jagged edges.
The ground was demolished, and Mahoraga's body crashed into the ruined crater, resembling a discarded pile of charcoal.
Lightning arcs coursed across the surface of his mangled frame, each flicker sapping away a portion of his vitality.
Ibaraki Doji looked down upon the scene from a higher vantage point.
Above the sword he held, the final charge of lightning was converging.
This time, the color of the lightning shifted from blue-white to a deep purple-black. This was the manifestation of lightning density reaching its absolute zenith.
The electrical currents wrapping around the sword blade no longer crackled wildly; instead, they coiled tightly like a swimming dragon, emitting a low, continuous rumble, akin to a god of thunder in the depths of the heavens preparing the most lethal strike.
He raised his sword high.
The flash of lightning dimly illuminated his face, his blade aimed squarely at the center of Mahoraga's ruins, and he unleashed the fatal strike.
The purple-black lightning poured downward like a torrential waterfall.
The blinding light consumed everything.
However, this assault did not completely destroy Mahoraga, a fact that left Ibaraki Doji profoundly shocked.
"What?"
His pupils trembled, utterly unable to believe the sight unfolding before his eyes.
Upon Mahoraga's ruined body, the charred portions were actively writhing.
Layers of dark golden patterns spread outward from his core, resembling lava flowing beneath a cooling rocky crust.
Wherever the patterns passed, the tissue originally scorched by the lightning began to peel away.
He was beginning to adapt to the lightning.
At the exact same time, Mahoraga's wounds regenerated at a speed visible to the naked eye, even his armor restoring itself along with his flesh.
This could not be allowed to continue.
Once Ibaraki Doji realized this, he struck again decisively. The sword in his hand slashed downward once more.
This time, the lightning struck the newly grown layer of armor, releasing a sharp, buzzing hiss.
And then, there was no further effect.
The lightning strike hit Mahoraga's body, yet it felt exactly like water being splashed onto a red-hot iron plate; even the steam didn't have time to rise before completely evaporating into nothingness.
The lightning arc failed to leave even the faintest scorch mark upon his armor.
Mahoraga stood completely erect.
His newly regenerated right hand emerged fully from the wound, his five fingers slowly curling into a fist as his knuckles released a sharp, bone-cracking pop.
In the next second, both of his eyes flared to life.
"Die."
Ibaraki Doji surged forward a step, the lightning upon his blade surging to its absolute limit. Grasping the sword with both hands, he poured the entirety of his might into this single strike.
Mahoraga simply raised his right hand, spreading his five fingers wide.
Ibaraki Doji's ferocious blade, upon making contact with the open palm, let out a final, unwilling roar.
And then, it was caught with absolute serenity.
Countless tiny electrical sparks spilled out from the gaps between his fingers, like a startled flock of fireflies, flickering briefly before vanishing into nothingness.
Without a shadow of a doubt, Mahoraga had fully adapted to the lightning, and electricity could no longer harm him.
Now, it was Mahoraga's turn to counterattack.
In a fraction of a second, Mahoraga's figure vanished from his spot.
Ibaraki Doji's heart jolted, his blade instinctively spinning toward his left side. This was a split-second judgment forged by his combat instincts through thousands of battles.
But the sword had barely managed to swing halfway when a palm already pressed firmly against his chest guard.
A surge of pure, attribute-less, raw destructive power pierced straight through from his chest, tearing all the way out of his back.
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