Now that even distant Mount Suzuka had heard news of the Great Dog General's death, it was clear that this information had already spread across all of Japan.
After all, King Tōga had walked the path of domination in life, subduing countless foes by sheer force.
His sudden death sparked countless ambitions—those who had long harbored grudges, and even the yōkai once crushed beneath his blade, now turned their greedy eyes toward the vast lands of the West.
Yet, for the time being, these factions held their forces in check.
After all—though King Tōga had fallen, the Western Dog Demon clan still retained a relatively intact army and command structure. Anyone who dared to be the first to challenge the West would most likely only serve to benefit the second or third faction that followed.
And beyond that, the Lunar Palace's name had now been etched firmly into the yōkai world's consciousness—an unfathomable and terrifying power.
This was the second time since their brief appearance months ago in the Kinai region that the Lunar Palace had made a grand entrance, once again shocking all yōkai.
Compared to their greed for the West, most factions feared this new organization far more.
However, while they dared not move against the Western territories directly, there were fewer qualms about targeting a certain wandering 'noble son.'
...
Shua—
A flash of green light streaked across the massive frame of a demon ogre. In the next instant, its body split cleanly in two, and under the violent effect of a corrosive toxin, even its bones dissolved into nothing.
—"Human-Head Staff!"
Jaken raised his wooden staff, unleashing fire to completely incinerate the ogre's remains.
When it was over, the little kappa yōkai sat heavily on the ground, wiping the sweat from his face with his stubby arms.
"Since Lord Sesshōmaru recovered, this makes the twentieth yōkai to come challenge him..."
As he thought that, Jaken glanced at Sesshōmaru, who stood tall in the wind.
Though his master's face remained emotionless, Jaken could still sense that his mood was far from pleasant.
—Lord Sesshōmaru's been getting more irritable lately... could it be his shedding season?
Just as that foolish thought crossed his mind, a chill ran down Jaken's spine as Sesshōmaru's golden eyes flicked sharply toward him.
"Ah! Lord Sesshōmaru, I wasn't thinking anything at all!"
"...Jaken."
"Y-yes, my lord, what are your orders?"
"Find a place to hide."
"Huh? What—"
Before Jaken could finish, a violent snowstorm suddenly engulfed the area. Winds howled, and blinding snow filled the air in all directions. Within moments, the world turned into a white blur—north, south, east, and west indistinguishable.
But such visual obstruction meant nothing to Sesshōmaru, whose sense of smell was far keener than sight.
His golden eyes remained fixed in a single direction as he spoke with calm certainty. "Tōran."
In the distance, a dark figure approached along a frozen river, her movements graceful yet deliberate.
"As expected of Sesshōmaru. Even after your battle with Ryūkotsusei, your instincts remain sharp."
Sesshōmaru narrowed his eyes. "Is that all you came to say?"
"Don't look so dangerous, Lord Sesshōmaru..." Tōran smiled faintly. "The last time we met, I recall you had a human miko and a yōkai at your side. This time, it's just... that scrawny little creature?"
"..."
Sesshōmaru had no interest in meaningless chatter, but the so-called 'scrawny creature' couldn't stay quiet.
"Hey, you damned cat yōkai, what nonsense are you spouting! I am the great Jaken! Not some insignificant little yōkai!"
"Fufufu~"
Tōran ignored him entirely, her gaze fixed on Sesshōmaru. "You've changed quite a bit since we last met. It seems that human priestess has trained you well."
"It seems you've come here seeking death."
Sesshōmaru's killing intent erupted without restraint. The constant provocations were swiftly wearing away his already thin patience.
"You misunderstand. I'm merely here under my lord's orders—to confirm your condition."
Tōran stepped back cautiously. She had witnessed Sesshōmaru's speed before—his ability to strike without warning or sound.
"Hmph~ to confirm my condition?"
Sesshōmaru saw through the true purpose of the Panther Tribe instantly. Without pretense, he said coldly, "It seems your Panther Tribe was quite frightened by the Lunar Palace."
"...You really haven't changed—your tone is as insufferable as ever."
A flash of irritation crossed Tōran's face, but she quickly composed herself. Since Sesshōmaru had already seen through her, there was no point in evasion.
"You're right. My purpose here is indeed related to the Lunar Palace. We've learned that the Great Dog General fell at their hands."
—"Nani?"
At the side, Jaken looked stunned. Lord Sesshōmaru's father had only been dead a few days—how had the news already spread so far?
"It was Ryūkotsusei who leaked the information. And the battle between you and him in the West was far too great to conceal."
"So, Tōran," Sesshōmaru said coolly, "you came to represent the Panther Tribe in seeking our aid?"
"Sesshōmaru, it seems you still don't understand the situation..." Tōran's tone grew impatient, her sharp eyes narrowing. "With the Great Dog General dead, the Dog Clan has become a prize coveted by every major yōkai. Do you really think your clan can hold its territory alone? Especially with the Lunar Palace lurking in the shadows?"
As she spoke, her confidence began to return. Putting herself in Sesshōmaru's position, she imagined what her own tribe would do if they were in the Dog Clan's shoes.
The wisest move, she thought, would be to contract one's borders, seek alliances with stronger tribes, and stabilize the chaos caused by King Tōga's death before making any further plans.
If the Dog Clan continued to act with the same arrogance they had under King Tōga's rule, they would only end up torn apart by the hordes of hungry demons soon to descend upon them.
After all—the existence of the black magatama, the Kuro Magatama, had already proven its allure. If a powerful yōkai like Ryūkotsusei had chosen to join the Lunar Palace, then surely others must have done the same.
However, Sesshōmaru's response took Tōran by surprise.
The proud noble spoke coldly, "Survival of the fittest—strength is the law of this world. If the Dog Clan is too weak to defend itself and is destroyed by others, that too is merely the natural order."
"What?" Tōran froze, realizing suddenly that she had misunderstood something fundamental.
The title Prince of Terror—the name by which Sesshōmaru was known among the Western yōkai—had not been given to him by outsiders, but by his own kin.
Unlike Tōran, who still had siblings, Sesshōmaru was the kind of demon who would mercilessly kill even his own retainers, and who might even strike down his kin if it meant gaining greater power.
Sesshōmaru's blunt rejection left no room for negotiation, and the Panther Tribe's attempt at diplomacy failed before it even began.
As Tōran vanished into the snowstorm, Jaken immediately puffed himself up and waved the Human-Head Staff with mock authority. "Hmph! Foolish creature! Lord Sesshōmaru is a being of unmatched power! How could he ever need to form alliances with the likes of you lowly pests?"
"...Jaken."
The familiar voice spoke from behind him.
At the sound of Sesshōmaru's calm, low tone, Jaken's smug expression froze. He turned around instantly, plastering on an obsequious smile. "Ah—Lord Sesshōmaru, do you have any orders for me?"
"We're leaving."
"Eh? Leaving? To where?" Jaken blinked, completely confused, as Sesshōmaru turned and began to walk away.
The taciturn demon gave no explanation. Instead, he summoned his yōki and soared into the sky.
"Wait for me, Lord Sesshōmaru!"
Shouting, Jaken barely managed to grab hold of Sesshōmaru's long, flowing hair, clinging on as the noble demon ascended and flew off into the distance.
...
On the outer highway leading toward Kyoto, seven oddly dressed mercenaries trudged along, leading a horse-drawn wagon.
Each bore a strange assortment of weapons—some carried the conventional blades and spears of this era, while others bore contraptions far beyond the age's technology: firearms, explosives, and even cybernetic augmentations.
This was still an age long before Oda Nobunaga would be known as the "Demon King of the Sixth Heaven." Humanity's technological tree was still deeply rooted in the agricultural era—mass steel production didn't yet exist, let alone human augmentation.
And yet, among this seven-man group, one wielded firearms as his main weapon, while another was clearly a modified human. This was black technology beyond black technology.
Naturally, such a group was far from ordinary—they were the infamous mercenary unit known as the Seven-Man Squad (Shichinintai), a band of ruthless killers who bathed in blood and reveled in war.
Their leader, however, was neither the tall cyborg nor the bald gunner, but a young man carrying a massive weapon known as Banryū—a weapon so large it resembled a slab of iron more than a spear.
Despite its immense weight, the young man shouldered it casually with one arm, walking as though it weighed nothing.
"Ah~ this mission's such a bore. Not a single handsome man in sight. How disappointing~"
The speaker was a flamboyant figure dressed in a woman's kimono, adorned with hairpins and lipstick. Yet the prominent Adam's apple and flat chest betrayed the truth—a very eccentric man with unique tastes.
"Ahahahaha! Jakotsu, you idiot! We're just hunting a band of thieves this time. You think you'll find any strong men among them?"
The leader, Banryū's wielder, didn't seem the least bit bothered by his companion's flamboyant personality. Slapping an arm around his shoulder, he grinned. "Once we get to Kyoto, though, I'm sure we'll find plenty of worthy opponents to cut down."
One of the bald members spoke up. "I heard this job's not just for mercenaries. Even some of those so-called demon-slayers have been invited."
"I heard they're from Musashi Province—apparently, they've been fighting yōkai for generations. Should be pretty tough."
"Ooh~ sounds like there might be some fine men after all~"
...
The Seven-Man Squad finally arrived at Kyoto's gates, their wagon loaded with the remains of their defeated targets.
"What? You're telling us to hand over our weapons?"
Banryū's wielder looked at the trembling soldier before him as if the man had lost his mind.
"Y-yes... If you wish to enter Kyoto, all weapons must be surrendered. Our guards within the city will ensure your safety."
Even as he spoke, the soldier didn't believe his own words.
He knew full well who stood before him—the infamous Seven-Man Squad.
Each member was capable of taking on a hundred men single-handedly. And the young man at their head had once single-handedly crushed an entire nation's army. A living calamity in human form.
But there was no way around it—such were the strict rules for entering Kyoto. Dangerous mercenary groups like the Seven-Man Squad were never allowed entry under normal circumstances.
Even now, though the situation was extraordinary and Kyoto had no choice but to rely on their strength, disarmament was still a non-negotiable condition.
One of the Seven, a barefoot man, suddenly grabbed the soldier by his collar and hoisted him into the air. "Kid, are you making a fool of us?"
The sudden motion sent tension rippling through the air like a drawn bowstring.
Dozens of soldiers immediately rushed from the gate, leveling spears and naginata toward the Seven-Man Squad.
"Seven-Man Squad! Put him down!"
"Oh? You want to take our weapons?"
The leader of the group, the youngest among them—Bankotsu—looked utterly unconcerned. With one hand, he dug idly at his ear, then slammed his massive Banryū spear-sword into the ground with a deafening crash.
BOOOOM—!
The weapon's bladed tip buried itself a third of its length into the earth, sending violent tremors through the ground. The shockwave rippled outward, shaking every soldier to the bone. They swallowed hard and exchanged uneasy glances.
Monsters... they're monsters. To wield something that heavy so easily...
Releasing his grip on Banryū, Bankotsu smirked and said lazily, "You want to take our weapons? Fine. Come and get them."
But... who could possibly lift it?
The soldiers exchanged panicked looks, none daring to step forward. They all understood—this was a show of dominance.
Finally, the squad leader steeled himself and stepped up. He clearly knew there was no way he could move that massive slab of iron alone, but he had no choice. Calling over three or four comrades, they surrounded the enormous weapon and wrapped their hands tightly around the hilt.
"Hrghhh—! Aaaahhh!"
The men strained with all their might, their faces reddening, veins bulging along their necks and arms as they heaved.
But the colossal blade didn't budge an inch. It was as if it were fused to the earth itself.
Bankotsu grinned, resting his hand on his hip. "See? I gave you a chance. Too bad you're all useless."
At that moment, an ethereal woman's voice drifted down from above.
"How interesting... then allow me to try."