"Yōkai, why continue this futile struggle?"
The angelic woman, sword in hand, coldly admonished Muria while relentlessly pursuing his spectral form. Despite her constant attacks, she still hadn't managed to completely purify his yokai manifestation.
"I have something important to discuss with the Crimson Queen!" Muria sighed inwardly, his frustration reaching new heights.
"Do you really think a lowly yokai like you deserves to meet Her Highness?" The angel sneered disdainfully, her glowing blade slicing through the air in pursuit.
"I'm serious! Do you think I traveled here just for fun?!" Muria tried his best to reason, but the angel would not listen.
"Another ridiculous trick."
No matter what he said, the angel ignored his protests. After exchanging a few more words, she resumed her merciless assault, leaving Muria no choice but to dodge and evade her attacks.
When there's an absolute disparity in strength, skill can only prolong survival; it can't turn the tide.
"Why is this taking so long?"
After what felt like an eternity, more angelic figures emerged from the golden palace below, their majestic wings shimmering in the moonlight.
"This yokai is unusually cunning. It's as if it knows my thoughts and can predict where I'll strike next." The first angel, visibly frustrated, explained as she continued her pursuit.
"Cunning? Let's see if it's so clever when we work together. Purify it immediately," one of the newly arrived angels commanded, her tone sharp and decisive.
Without hesitation, the reinforcements joined the fray. Unlike the concept of honorable duels, these angels showed no reservations about ganging up on Muria's spectral form.
Their decisive and pragmatic teamwork left Muria both impressed and exasperated. If they were his subordinates, he'd commend their effectiveness. But being on the receiving end of their unrelenting attacks was a thoroughly unpleasant experience.
Despite his disadvantage, Muria relied on his superior combat instincts to narrowly evade their coordinated strikes. His movements became increasingly desperate as their attacks grew fiercer, creating a commotion so large it finally drew the attention of the most powerful presence within the palace below.
A vast, divine will descended upon the battlefield, radiating an awe-inspiring and transcendent power. Its arrival caused the angels to intensify their attacks, as though emboldened by the presence of their leader.
The divine pressure forced Muria's yokai manifestation into an even more precarious situation, but he felt a spark of hope. The person he had been trying to reach had finally taken notice.
"Stand down," a serene yet commanding voice echoed through the skies, halting the angels mid-attack.
Startled by the command, the angels reluctantly ceased their assault and hovered in place. A wave of guilt washed over them as they braced for the reprimand they assumed was coming.
However, instead of chastising them, their leader's actions left them astonished. A rift appeared in the fabric of space, and from it emerged a slender, elegant hand. Without hesitation, the hand reached out and grasped the yokai that the angels had been struggling to defeat. To their amazement, the elusive yokai offered no resistance, allowing itself to be captured.
...
Within a resplendent golden palace, bathed in holy radiance, a goddess-like figure sat upon a throne. She gazed down at the shrunken and cowering yokai in her grasp, a playful smile gracing her lips.
"Muria?"
"Yes," Muria grumbled, his voice muffled. The radiant energy emanating from her hand was causing his yokai form considerable discomfort.
"What happened to you? Why are you in this pitiful state?" Mikaela's tone was laced with amusement. "Don't tell me you're here to pledge allegiance to me."
"Stop joking. I came here because I heard about you. This is just a fraction of my power—an insignificant fragment I sent to check on you." Muria deliberately emphasized the words "insignificant fragment."
"Really now?"
"Of course. If I were at my full strength, do you think I'd have such a hard time even stepping into this place?"
"Oh—" Mikaela dragged out the syllable teasingly, her smile widening.
"Can you tone down your power? It's hurting me," Muria complained, his yokai form curling up further in her grasp.
"Why are you wielding this kind of power, anyway?" Mikaela finally reined in her divine radiance, her curiosity piqued.
"I acquired it through... unconventional means. While it's weak compared to my true power, it has interesting properties, like allowing me to create a manifestation to visit you."
"Unconventional means?" Mikaela's expression turned contemplative.
"Enough about me. Let's talk about your power. How did you end up in this situation?" Muria shifted the focus back to her, his diminutive yokai form gazing up at Mikaela.
Mikaela's current form bore a striking resemblance to her true self, but there were noticeable differences. For one, the purity and intensity of her divine energy were less potent. Additionally, her wings numbered only three pairs, rather than the five pairs characteristic of her true form.
"It's a long story. Before your return, my grandfather selected this world for my reincarnation. The goal was for me to ascend as a seraph within this realm."
"So, you have a home-field advantage here?" Muria asked, his tone laced with mild envy.
"To some extent, yes," Mikaela admitted. "But the advantage isn't as significant as you might think."
"Why this world, though? What's so special about it?" Muria pressed, sensing there was more to the story.
"Because one of my ancestors descended upon this world long ago. My current form is proof of that lineage," Mikaela explained, gesturing to herself.
"Go on."
"My ancestor couldn't remain here for long due to the world's rejection. They eventually left."
"What brought them here in the first place? What could attract a seraph to a world like this?"
"You've already noticed, haven't you?" Mikaela smiled knowingly, pointing to Muria's yokai form.
"Enlighten me."
"A legendary being—an Epic—fell in this world." Mikaela's revelation sent a ripple of shock through the air. Though Muria remained outwardly composed, her words confirmed suspicions he had harbored for some time.
"Ah, I see," Muria muttered, piecing together the puzzle.
"This Epic fled to this world, mortally wounded and on the brink of death. To escape its pursuers, it chose to shatter its own divine form and merge with the world itself. In doing so, it avoided total annihilation but created a cascade of chaos in the process."
"And your ancestor pursued it here?" Muria surmised.
"Correct. My ancestor sought to finish the job but was unable to destroy the world to do so. Instead, they left behind a fragment of their power to suppress the Epic's remnants and prevent its resurrection."
"That explains a lot," Muria murmured.
The root of this world's chaos was now clear. The Epic's fragmented power had spread throughout the land, seeping into countless beings and fostering endless conflict.
"Our task is simple," Mikaela concluded. "If we want to harvest this world's source energy, we must eliminate the cause of its instability—the Epic's lingering essence."
"Simple? That sounds anything but simple," Muria retorted, though he couldn't help but smirk.
"At least we're not dealing with a fully revived Epic," Mikaela countered, her gaze playful. "And besides, you've already made progress. Look at yourself."
Muria glanced at his yokai form, a wry smile creeping onto his face. Indeed, he had been inadvertently aiding the process all along.
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