Chapter 242: The Vanishing Mount Hakurei, The Heaven-Splitting Demon
Mount Hakurei was vanishing.
Starting from the very peak, the moment Master Hakushin attained full enlightenment, the petrified Sokushinbutsu began to disintegrate. Layer by layer, the ancient, grey-white rock crumbled into fine powder. It rose with the sweeping night wind, spiraling upward to merge smoothly into the dark canvas of the sky.
Master Hakushin's body was this mountain.
The instant he attained Nirvana and departed in a shower of pure light, the centuries-old physical vessel that served as the mountain's foundational anchor lost its tether to the mortal realm.
Yet, the mountain did not violently collapse. There was no deafening roar of falling boulders.
It was merely dissolving.
Like winter snow yielding to the gentle morning sun, it disappeared quietly. It was a silence that bordered on absolute solemnity. The summit surrendered to nothingness first, followed by the sprawling mountainside, and finally, the heavy base at the foot of the peaks.
The oppressive wall of Buddha Power that had blanketed the provinces of Mino and Owari dissipated alongside it. That invisible, suffocating curtain of golden light shattered. Like a grand mix with its warp threads violently yanked free, the barrier drifted apart, returning to the heavens and the earth piece by shimmering piece.
The absolute suppression was lifted.
To the west.
Takeda Shingen stood frozen on the two-hundred-and-tenth step of the mountain trail. Beneath her bare feet, the solid stone steps were rapidly turning translucent.
She lowered her gaze.
Her prized iron fan had shattered. Only the central main rib remained clutched in her grip, bearing just half of the golden lacquer character for 'Wind'. Her knees were brutally scraped, her palms weeping blood, coated in a gritty mixture of stone dust and cold sweat.
But her lips were curled into a wide, breathless smile.
Looking toward the summit, the blinding five-colored pillar of light had violently constricted and vanished mere breaths ago. In its wake was a jagged rift that spanned the entire firmament. It looked as though a colossal deity had taken a blade and slashed a bleeding wound across the night sky. The light of the moon, which had long since crested the horizon, poured violently through the tear, illuminating the world ten times brighter than usual.
That was the catastrophic aftermath of Master Hakushin's Bodhisattva manifestation being forcefully shaken.
It was the lingering scar left behind by demonic aura and sheer willpower colliding head-on, tearing the very heavens asunder.
Shingen tilted her head back. Her long, deep-red hair cascaded wildly behind her, the sweat-dampened fabric of her kimono clinging tightly to the elegant curve of her spine.
"He won… that fellow."
Her voice was barely a whisper against the wind, but the feral, delighted smile on her lips only grew wider.
Yamagata Masakage stood two steps behind her, wincing as she rubbed the back of her head where a stray rock had struck her. She looked from her lord's sweat-drenched back to the dissolving mountain around them.
"My Lord, your feet—"
"I know."
Shingen hopped lightly off the fading stone steps, landing with practiced grace on a lower outcropping of rock that still held its physical form. She casually tucked the broken remnant of her iron fan into her sash and brushed the gritty dust from her bleeding palms.
"Let's go. We return to Kai Province."
"My Lord, aren't you going up to take a look?" Masakage blinked in surprise.
"Look at what? I've already retrieved what I came for." Shingen didn't bother looking back. "Besides, he won. Why should I run all the way up there just to join the commotion?"
She paused, her crimson eyes reflecting the moonlight.
"We'll talk about it next time."
Her gait instantly regained that domineering, tiger-striding composure she possessed before stepping foot on this cursed mountain. Her loose kimono swayed rhythmically with her long, confident strides, the silhouette of her slender, cinched waist flashing through the moonlit night.
The phantom of the Vajra Lion, having condensed once more at her back, followed her down the dissolving mountain in absolute silence.
To the east.
Oda Nobuna leaned heavily against a giant, jagged rock.
Hours of desperate, continuous running had worn bloody blisters onto the soles of her bare feet. Fine stone dust dulled the brilliant gold of her hair. She had felt the exact second the suppression vanished—the terrifying Buddha statue had ceased its relentless pursuit, the suffocating weight in the air evaporated, and her exhausted legs finally felt nimble again.
She tilted her chin toward the heavens.
The split night sky extended outward from the summit. Pure, unadulterated moonlight poured down along the jagged rift, painting half the sky in a ghastly, ethereal white.
"...That fellow, did he punch a hole through the entire damn mountain?"
The crimson lotus flames dancing deep within her golden eyes flickered twice.
Shibata Katsuie stood loyally by her side, leaning her weight on her massive gray-iron axe as if it were a walking cane. Her amber eyes were locked onto the summit.
Katsuie's expression was incredibly complex. As the living incarnation of a divine artifact, she could vividly taste the texture of that lingering power.
That was no longer the aura of an ordinary demon.
Woven into that overwhelming force was raw demonic energy, fractured shards of pure spiritual power, the heavy weight of human faith and fear, and even… the indomitable will of a human heart.
"My Lord," Katsuie spoke, her voice low and gravelly. "That person will become even more terrifying in the future."
Nobuna did not reply immediately.
She stared at the bleeding rift in the sky for a long, silent moment. Then, she clicked her tongue, her expression twisting into a mix of deep annoyance and bitter regret.
And beneath it all, a burning yearning.
How could someone with such heaven-defying power refuse to join hands with her to conquer this chaotic world, choosing instead to ally with that absolute coward?
"Let's go. The Heaven's Eye and Leopard's Tail are probably long gone by now. We'll just have to snatch them from someone else later."
She pushed herself off the rock, stumbling slightly as her blistered feet hit the ground. Maeda Toshiie hurried over from the side, reaching out to support her arm.
"My Lord, your feet—"
"Don't touch me! It hurts, you idiot!" Nobuna snapped, swatting Toshiie's hands away as she limped forward.
To the south.
Imagawa Yoshimoto had already been escorted out of the danger zone.
The dense white mist from earlier finally dispersed after nearly an hour. From within the fading fog, Kikyo and Kobe Hikaru walked out side by side.
Kikyo's traditional white robes and red hakama were impeccably neat. Not a single strand of her dark hair was out of place. The only betrayal of what had transpired was the incredibly faint, flushed red at the tips of her ears—a detail impossible to catch unless one was looking closely.
Hikaru's gray robes were equally undisturbed. His twin swords rested securely at his waist, and the massive halberd, Banryu, was strapped firmly to his back.
However, the color of his lips was noticeably deeper than before—matching the exact, slightly swollen shade of Kikyo's.
In truth, when they first began their descent, Kikyo had leaned heavily on Hikaru's arm for support. It had taken them quite some time to properly fold away the woven mat the priestess carried for camping—a mat that now bore a distinct, blooming spot of maiden's blood. Yet, the moment she spotted Yoshimoto waiting in the distance, Kikyo had forced herself to stand perfectly straight.
Seeing her recover her composure so quickly, Hikaru didn't push the issue. He merely watched with dry amusement, allowing the proud priestess to uphold her precious 'dignity'.
Though, in his eyes, there was no intimidating dignity to be found; there was only the endearing cuteness of her stubbornly flushed complexion.
For her part, Yoshimoto didn't utter a single word about their delayed arrival. She stood with her back rigidly turned toward them, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, and her chin lifted so high it was practically pointing at the fractured moon.
"Let's go," Hikaru called out to her, his tone flat and casual.
"...Hmph."
Yoshimoto replied with a haughty, nasal grunt, but her feet immediately moved to follow them. She maintained a strict distance—exactly two steps behind Kikyo and Hikaru. Not one step more, not one step less.
The trio walked down the dissolving mountain trail. The stone steps shattered and turned to dust beneath their boots, but the speed of the mountain's disintegration remained exactly one step slower than their pace.
It was as if Mount Hakurei—or rather, the lingering will of Master Hakushin—was using the very last of its strength to preserve a safe path for them to leave.
By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, the terrifying rift in the firmament had torn open even further.
It was a chasm in the sky spanning dozens of miles, stretching all the way from northern Mino to the airspace above Owari. Pure, unfiltered moonlight poured from the opening, illuminating the dark wilderness below until it looked like broad daylight.
The Imagawa Clan's Ashigaru stared up at the sky, their jaws unhinged, mouths wide enough to swallow a fist.
The battered remnants of the Oda troops were watching as well. The three or four hundred men who had been forcibly incorporated into the Imagawa logistics corps stood crowded outside their tents. The camp was so deathly silent that the dropping of a needle would have echoed like thunder.
Farther out, Hojo Clan scouts lay flat on a distant hill. Using the blinding moonlight, they frantically sketched the celestial rift onto their notepads, their hands trembling violently.
Then, the entire army watched as three figures walked out from the dissolving mountain.
From directly beneath the tear in the firmament, they slowly emerged from the dust.
Leading them was a young man who defied all logic—a being who was part human, part demon, part ghost, and part devil.
The exact moment the three of them stepped completely off the slope, the final rock of Mount Hakurei turned to powder behind them, melting away into the night wind.
The Sokushinbutsu that had anchored the land for hundreds of years dissipated between the heavens and the earth, leaving nothing behind.
All that remained was a vast, flat wilderness.
And that terrifying, sky-splitting scar above.
Matsudaira Motoyasu stood frozen behind the heavy supply wagons of the Imagawa main camp. The blinding moonlight reflected off her round glasses, hiding her eyes. The expression on her usually soft, round face shifted rapidly from sheer shock, to absolute blankness, and finally to an emotion too deep to name.
She slowly closed the thick account book in her hands.
It wasn't because she had finished her calculations. It was because her small hands were shaking so violently that her handwriting would only come out as a crooked mess.
The ten-year-old hostage stared down at her trembling fingers, then slowly raised her head to look at the gray-robed figure walking out from the vanished mountain.
She etched his silhouette permanently into her heart.
Motoyasu knew, with absolute certainty, that even decades from now, she would never forget the blinding moonlight of this night, nor the man who walked out from beneath a broken sky.
And in the distance, others were watching, too.
Hojo Ujiyasu of Sagami watched from the shadows of his domain.
Inuyasha, stripped of his demonic power and trapped in his vulnerable, black-haired human form due to the new moon, watched from the tense border of Kai and Musashi Provinces.
And even further away.
In the freezing northern lands of Echigo.
Atop the peak of a silent, snow-dusted mountain.
Aya-gozen received a hastily scribbled message via carrier pigeon from her forward scouts. She unfolded the tiny slip of paper, her eyes scanning the ink several times to ensure she hadn't misread it.
Slowly, she folded the note, tucked it securely into the sleeve of her kimono, and spurred her horse back toward the castle.
She did not immediately seek out Kenshin.
At this hour, Kenshin would be deeply immersed in chanting sutras within the quiet solitude of the Buddhist hall.
Aya only paused her steps for a brief moment as she passed the wooden corridor outside the hall. Staring at the glowing paper sliding door, she spoke softly.
"Tora, that strange mountain that suddenly appeared in Mino... it's gone again."
Silence reigned within the Buddhist hall for two agonizingly long seconds.
Then, Kenshin's voice drifted through the paper door. It was a tone that perfectly matched Aya's memory—crystal clear and gentle, with a soft, almost glutinous lilt at the very end, like a quiet stream brushing against smooth river stones.
Yes, it was exactly the same as in her memory.
"...Is it him?"
Aya did not analyze the hidden weight behind the question. Her little sister had always spoken in riddles and soft murmurs.
She simply delivered her message, turned on her heel, and walked away down the corridor.
Inside the hall, the rhythmic chanting of sutras paused for a long, heavy minute.
Then, the sliding door was abruptly flung open.
A young girl stood in the doorway. A waterfall of deep indigo, straight hair cascaded from the top of her head all the way down past her waist. A plain white cloth band was tied firmly around her forehead, sweeping stray hairs away from her striking eyes.
Her pupils reflected the flickering, dying light of the candles inside the hall, large and impossibly bright.
She was slightly shorter than Aya, her facial features exquisite but lacking any harsh sharpness. There was an indescribable softness resting between her brows—she looked like a peerless, razor-sharp blade whose deadly edges had been carefully polished round and sheathed away from the world.
Slowly, the corners of her mouth lifted into a small, anticipatory smile.
She remembered that demon. The strange demon who had left an indelible mark upon her very soul.
Her 'benefactor'.
She had always wanted to find the perfect opportunity to see him again.
And now, the heavens had presented her with the best possible chance.
Aya's final, parting words still echoed faintly in the cold night air.
She had said...
"Just now, there were unusual troop movements in the northern provinces. It seems they have intentions to spy on Musashi Province."
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