The morning of the next day.
The morning sun rose, its pale golden radiance piercing through the thin mist and spilling onto this remote village in Musashi Province.
Hikaru pushed open the wooden door of the guest house.
The air was slightly cool, mixed with the scent of soil and dew.
Last night's yōkai raid seemed to be a thing of the past; the farmers in the village carried hoes and baskets on their backs, walking towards the fields in twos and threes.
When passing by the guest house, they saw the young man at the door.
He wasn't wearing that hideous crimson Oni mask.
Pale skin, loose white hair, yet he had a young human face.
The villagers' steps paused slightly, their eyes dodging away, filled with both fear and curiosity, finally turning into stiff nods of greeting before they hurried away.
Life had to go on.
Hikaru didn't mind these things.
He raised his head and looked towards the shrine.
Above the vermilion torii gate, the leaves of the huge sacred tree rustled in the morning breeze.
On the platform beneath it, a figure in white robes and red hakama was facing the rising sun in the east.
It was Kikyo.
She was not holding a bow, but rather her hands were crossed, holding a kagura bell adorned with white paper streamers.
"Jingle—"
The crisp sound of the bell traveled far in the silence of the morning.
She closed her eyes, treading the Yu steps, her form flowing with the sound of the bell.
The wide white sleeves of her kimono rose with her movements, appearing nearly translucent in the morning light, faintly outlining the thin yet supple lines of her shoulders and back beneath the fabric.
Every time she turned, her crimson hakama skirt swirled open like flowing water, clinging to her waist and hips, tightening around that undulating, rounded curve in a breathtaking manner, only to disappear into the shadows deep within the folds the next instant as the hem fell.
That was not a dance.
It was cultivation.
Hikaru could sense it vaguely and blurrily.
Following her movements, tiny, drifting, faint specks of light were gathering towards her, merging into that seemingly slender body.
Then they were transformed into that vast power that made all yōkai feel scorched.
That was the source of spiritual power.
Pure, vast, like the sun hanging in the sky.
Hikaru stood there watching for a long time.
It was beautiful.
Not just the person, but the circulation of that spiritual power.
From Hikaru's perspective, there was an energy in it that harmonized with heaven and earth.
It was an experience completely different and entirely opposite to the turbid and chaotic Demonic Qi.
He just watched like that.
Waiting.
Until a moment later, the sound of the bell gradually ceased.
Kikyo put away the kagura bell, slowly exhaling a breath of turbid air, and the energy surging around her body returned to calmness.