Chapter 151: The Search for Totosai
The wilderness wind howled, carrying the metallic stench of old blood.
The woman known as Onigumo pushed herself up from the dirt, her mind swimming in a thick, disorienting haze. She looked down at her left leg. The gruesome fracture that should have crippled her was gone. Instead of normal human healing, raw muscle fibers had woven themselves together in seconds, sealing beneath skin so flawless it looked as though it had never been touched by violence. The massive sword gash stretching from her left shoulder down to her right flank had vanished without a single scar.
She raised her trembling hands to her face. Her fingernails had elongated into wicked, razor-sharp claws. Her skin had lost all human warmth, turning a ghostly, translucent white that faintly revealed the network of blue-purple veins pulsing beneath.
Her vision shifted. The world looked different.
She blinked, and the reflection in a nearby puddle revealed her new eyes. The human roundness of her pupils was gone, replaced by predatory, scarlet vertical slits. They were the exact same eyes as the one who had granted her this blood.
Yes... the memories pierced through her daze. Onigumo clearly remembered the strange, terrifying woman who had appeared out of nowhere in the desolate wilderness. She remembered her own desperate words, and the single, agonizing drop of blood that had been offered in return.
It was that single drop that dragged her back from the abyss of death, twisting her flesh into this current, inhuman posture.
And yet, as she flexed her clawed fingers, feeling the explosive power coursing through her veins, she felt truly alive for the first time. It felt incredibly good.
She pulled her gaze away from the puddle. From the moment she transitioned into a demon, her perception of the world had shattered its mortal limits. She could 'see' across impossible distances. Ten times, a hundred times farther than any human eye could reach.
She turned her head toward the east. Her vision pierced through rolling mountains, swept across vast plains, and bypassed countless sleeping villages.
In a place impossibly far away, she 'saw' something glowing in the dark.
It was a bead. The exact same jewel she had obsessed over in her feverish dreams.
And lingering right beside that jewel was a unique, unmistakable Yao Qi. It was pale, freezing to the touch, and carried the heavy, suffocating scent of rolling thunder and ancient bone. It was the exact same aura she had hallucinated when she was bleeding out on the verge of death.
It wasn't a hallucination. That person truly existed.
The corners of Onigumo's mouth split wide, stretching unnaturally all the way to her ears in the grotesque, malevolent smile of a true demon. Yet, unlike the mindless beasts that roamed the night, her scarlet eyes held no empty hunger. Instead, they burned with a twisted, fanatical obsession that bordered on religious faith.
"Found you," she whispered, her voice a raspy, inhuman purr. "I've finally found you."
Her claws dug deep into the earth. "But it's a pity. Right now... it's not yet time to meet you."
After all...
"Are you awake?"
From just outside the mouth of the cave, Kibutsuji Muzan's freezing voice drifted in, carrying the elegant, deadly cadence of her female form.
Three days slipped by.
Back at the shrine, Hikaru's life continued its usual, methodical rhythm, though the atmosphere had certainly gained a bit more flavor compared to his earlier days of solitary grinding.
For instance...
"...I say."
Naoe Kanetsugu's voice echoed through the quiet courtyard under the moonlight. "You are a terrifying undead demon, yet you spend your nights coaxing and cajoling a sword, a wooden comb, and a piece of scale. Don't you think this scene is utterly bizarre?"
Hikaru paused his polishing cloth and turned his head slowly.
Kanetsugu was still securely bound to the thick wooden pillar of the main hall. Loose strands of hair stuck to her sweat-dampened cheeks, and her expression was completely numb, wearing the exhausted look of a captive who had been forced to watch far too many terrible theatrical performances.
"You've been tied to a pillar watching me for ten days," Hikaru replied, his tone perfectly flat. "Don't you think your situation is even more bizarre?"
Kanetsugu snapped her mouth shut, a visible twitch developing at the corner of her eye.
However, by the time the sun reached its peak on the third day, the awakening progress of Muramasa ground to a complete and utter halt.
It was stuck.
The afternoon sunlight filtered lushly through the canopy, casting flickering shadows across the shrine's backyard. Hikaru sat cross-legged beneath the ancient pine tree, Muramasa resting horizontally across his knees. Dark red currents of Dread power flowed steadily from his fingertips, sinking into the cold steel of the blade.
The sword was vibrating violently.
But this wasn't the greedy, satisfied thrumming of a weapon swallowing power. This was a frantic, desperate shudder. It sounded like a cry of pain.
If Hikaru had to describe it, the sensation bleeding through the hilt felt like a stomach that was already dangerously full being forcibly stuffed with jagged rocks.
Crack.
A microscopic hairline fracture spider-webbed across the spine of the blade.
Hikaru's hand snapped back instantly, cutting off the flow of Dread.
The system panel immediately materialized in his vision.
[Demon Blade Muramasa: Awakening Progress — 47%]
[Warning: The blade material has reached its absolute load-bearing limit. The current blade is forged from ordinary mortal iron. Although its quality has significantly improved through Yao Qi infusion and fusion at maximum favorability, its essence remains a product of human smelting. The infusion of Dread power is tearing the internal steel structure apart from within. Continued injection will result in irreversible destruction.]
[Suggestion: Replace or reforge the blade. Requires special materials capable of bearing the awakening of a Demonic Tool.]
Hikaru stared intently at the tiny fracture. It was so thin it was practically invisible to the naked eye, but he could feel the chaotic energy leaking from it. The sword's not-yet-fully-formed soul was thrashing inside its steel prison.
In this world, all things possessed a baseline spirituality, but for those spirits to move, to gain true consciousness and the ability to think, they required a soul. Spirit governed the heavens; Soul governed the earth. For any beast to become a true demon, it needed a soul. Tsukumogami were no different.
However, Muramasa's nascent sword soul had hit a lethal bottleneck before it was even fully forged. It was struggling, trapped in a shell that was far too small, desperate to stretch but unable to expand the rigid steel. It was like shoving a massive dragon into the skin of a garden snake. The skin was tearing, and the dragon was suffocating.
"The material isn't enough," Hikaru muttered to himself, brushing his thumb over the cracked spine.
The original body of Muramasa was a famous sword forged by human hands. While its quality was exceptional for the mortal world, at the level of true demons—especially when tasked with carrying a fully awakened sword soul—ordinary steel might as well be wet paper.
This was especially true considering the sheer density of the Dread Hikaru was pumping into it. This power was the crystallized resentment and fear of over a hundred thousand people from the Three Provinces. Under that crushing weight, he didn't just need better steel. He needed materials of an entirely different caliber.
Ideally, he needed high-concentration Yao Qi carriers. The bones, fangs, or armored carapaces of Great Yokai.
Hikaru slid Muramasa back into its scabbard, his fingers lightly stroking the lacquered wood. The sword emitted a faint, rattling hum from within the sheath, sounding exactly like a wronged, whimpering child.
[Muramasa indicates it doesn't want to be replaced. It wants to continue following you. It just needs a better body.]
"I won't replace you," Hikaru said, patting the scabbard gently. "I'm just going to change your shell."
The anxious humming quieted down, leaving only a faint, trusting vibration against his hip.
Reforging.
It required legendary materials, but more, it required a blacksmith actually capable of working with materials of that level. Ordinary human smiths would instantly die just trying to melt down a Demonic Tool. Such weapons were steeped in the terrifying, lingering resentment of the demons they were carved from.
Only a master mage... or a terrifyingly powerful demon could even attempt it.
And in this world, there was only one name that immediately surfaced in Hikaru's mind. A name he was intimately familiar with from his life before transmigrating.
Totosai.
The personal blacksmith of Toga, the legendary Great Dog General who had once ruled the Western Lands and was widely considered the most powerful demon in the world.
Rumored to be an eccentric demon who lived solely for the forge, Totosai dwelt in absolute seclusion within the belly of an active volcano. He had a bizarre personality and a fiery temper, but his smithing techniques were completely unsurpassed. As long as the materials met his absurd standards, the swords he forged could perfectly channel Great Yokai-level Yao Qi. He had even used Toga's own canine teeth to craft a peerless demon blade capable of 'slaying a hundred demons with one swing'—a weapon barely inferior to the divine artifacts of the gods.
That sword was Tessaiga.
Hikaru remembered the lore clearly. After Toga's death, Tessaiga was meant to be inherited by his half-demon second son, Inuyasha. It wasn't handed over directly; the pearl containing the gateway to Toga's tomb was sealed deep within Inuyasha's right eye. Eventually, Inuyasha would unseal it, claim Tessaiga, and begin his long journey of hacking through Great Yokai.
To forge a blade of that magnitude... Totosai was undeniably the absolute pinnacle of demon swordsmiths in this era. Perhaps the only one left.
If anyone could reforge Muramasa without destroying its fragile soul, it was him.
, if Hikaru harbored any ambitions of acquiring Tessaiga for himself... then finding Totosai was the perfect first step. Where Totosai was, Inuyasha and the legendary swords of the Dog General wouldn't be far behind.
With his favorability system, it was practically a crime for him not to have designs on a weapon like Tessaiga. He had only held back previously because his strength was insufficient. Back in his Six Transformations state, even though his raw power rivaled an ordinary Seventh Transformation demon, he hadn't been confident in suppressing Inuyasha's explosive Great Yokai bloodline.
But now? With his Nine Transformations fully complete, the board had changed.
The only problem was location. Where exactly was Totosai?
In the original story, the old smith's volcanic hideout was notoriously difficult to locate. Even Sesshomaru, the terrifying eldest son of Toga and a Great Yokai in his own right, had to expend considerable effort to track him down. In this chaotic, merged worldview, his whereabouts were an even bigger mystery.
Fortunately, Hikaru was no longer a lone wanderer. He had an army. He had an intelligence network.
"Tanuki Juzaburo," Hikaru called out softly into the empty air.
It was the name of the head Tanuki among The Twenty-three Demons currently under his command. What was the point of building a syndicate if he didn't use it?
As his voice faded, a thick, coppery mist of blood began to seep from the ground in front of him. The mist swirled, condensing into the surface of a floating water mirror. A round, furry face popped into view.
Beady black eyes and a massive, fluffy tail filled the projection. Miles away in a shrine in Suruga, the Tanuki Spirit's true body had been jolted awake from a pleasant nap by the Dread summons, scrambling frantically to the nearest water basin to answer his lord.
"M-Master! What are your orders?!" the Tanuki squeaked, bowing so low his snout dipped into the water.
"I need you to investigate someone for me," Hikaru said.
"Yes, Lord! Who is the target?"
"Totosai."
"To... Totosai?" The Tanuki Spirit tilted his head, a rare expression of deep, scholarly thought wrinkling his furry face.
"He's a master demon blacksmith," Hikaru elaborated. "He's said to live in absolute seclusion inside a volcano, and he is the one who forged the legendary swords for the Great Yokai of the Western Lands."
"A Great Yokai of the Western Lands... Is Master talking about the Great Dog General? Lord Toga?"
Hikaru nodded.
The Tanuki Spirit's expression instantly shifted into a mix of deep awe and nervous excitement. "Lord Toga! He was the absolute sovereign of the West! Even though he passed away long ago... who in the demon underworld doesn't know his terrifying name? My father used to tell me stories about him when I was just a pup. He said Lord Toga possessed three peerless demon blades, two of which shook the very heavens: one called Tessaiga, and the other called Tenseiga—"
"It's good that you know your history. The smith who forged those blades is the Totosai I am looking for," Hikaru interrupted smoothly, cutting off the history lesson. "How far has your intelligence network spread across Suruga, Musashi, and Sagami?"
"Suruga is practically in our pockets, Master! The Twenty-three Demons have scattered into the shadows and made contact with all the local minor yokai. We hear every whisper on the streets! Sagami Province is still in the early stages, so our ears aren't quite as sharp there yet..."
"That's enough. Start your search from Suruga and expand westward. Mobilize every minor demon, spirit, and rat you can contact. I want every scrap of information regarding Totosai's whereabouts. Finding his exact location is your absolute priority." Hikaru paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "focus on any demon settlements situated near active volcanoes."
Mount Fuji sat squarely within Suruga Province. As the largest active volcano in Japan, it was statistically the most probable hiding spot.
The Tanuki Spirit puffed out his chubby chest, his beady eyes shining with fierce motivation. "Rest assured, my Lord! I may be absolutely useless in a fight, but when it comes to running errands, slipping through shadows, and gathering whispers, no one in the Twenty-three Demons can beat me!"
"Then go."
"At your command!"
The bloody mist dissolved, and the projection shattered back into empty air.
Hikaru withdrew his Yao Qi, leaning his head back against the rough bark of the old pine tree. His fingers unconsciously dropped to rest on Muramasa's hilt. The steel beneath the scabbard felt uncomfortably hot to the touch. It wasn't the sharp, refreshing heat of power it used to emit; it was a stifled, suffocating fever.
"I will find you a body worthy of your soul," Hikaru murmured into the quiet courtyard.
Muramasa hummed. It was a very light, fragile sound. It sounded like a sigh of relief.
Footsteps crunched softly against the gravel. Kikyo walked over from the direction of the main hall.
She was dressed in her pristine white kosode and bright red hakama, her longbow slung casually across her back. Her jet-black hair hung loose and slightly damp, indicating she had just finished bathing. The morning light caught the stark white fabric resting against her collarbone, highlighting the elegant, slender line of her shoulders.
She stopped beside the old pine tree, her dark, calm eyes dropping to the sword resting in his lap.
"It cracked?" she asked softly.
"It can't bear the load of the Dread anymore. It needs to be completely reforged."
"What materials will you use?"
"High-tier demon bones. But gathering the materials won't be the hard part—more, I need to find a blacksmith capable of melting them down."
Kikyo didn't press for further details. She simply nodded, gracefully lowering herself to sit on the grass beside him. She rested her bow across her knees, the long white ribbon tying her hair swaying gently in the morning breeze.
Then, in total silence, she shifted just a fraction of an inch closer, until the fabric of her shoulder brushed lightly against his arm.
They sat there together, leaning against the old pine, watching the shadows stretch across the courtyard.
Meanwhile.
Far away, standing on the very edge of Musashi Province.
The wind whipped through the towering mountain pass, catching a cascade of silver hair that flowed as smooth as spun moonlight. A noble young master stood silently among the jagged rocks, his face so flawlessly, coldly stunning it barely looked real.
He raised his golden eyes, his sharp gaze sweeping over the horizon as he felt the subtle currents of Yao Qi surging through the earth beneath his boots.
It was strange. Unlike the chaotic, filthy Yao Qi that usually plagued human lands—thick with the stench of rotting corpses and bitter resentment—the aura lingering in this specific direction was incredibly pure. It was the heavy, suffocating pressure of a true demon, completely devoid of mindless malice.
His perfectly composed features didn't shift, but his golden eyes narrowed slightly.
"Is this the place?"
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