Chapter 203: The Golden Goat Head Returns; The Envoys of the Weather God
BOOM!!!
With a deafening roar, the sky—which had momentarily stopped raining—opened up like a burst dam. This wasn't just rain; it was a vertical river crashing into the earth with enough force to crush a car.
"Heh."
Yoru watched as the floodwater pooled on the ground, twisting and writhing like a living thing. It coalesced into hundreds of translucent, watery humanoids that quickly formed a tight perimeter around him. Yoru simply tilted his head back, looking toward the heavy clouds.
"Scared now, are we?"
Hidden within the atmosphere, the Weather God felt a surge of fury—but beneath it, as Yoru had pointed out, was a cold, jagged spike of fear.
When the duo arrived at the station, the God had sent low-level spirits to block them, simply wanting to keep them out of Itomori. He wasn't truly worried back then; he was a God. Even if these humans found the Miyamizu Shrine and discovered a way to track his essence, what could they do? A human body cannot harm a divine concept. They would just have to watch as he claimed Hina Amano as his prize.
But the Weather God had missed one fatal detail: This Exorcist doesn't just kill spirits. He eats them.
And he had just sampled a piece of the God's own divinity.
If Yoru managed to find his true body... The God looked at the boy's smiling face—the face of a hungry diner looking at a prime cut of steak—and felt a primal terror. This human had the "Abstract" ability to actually murder a deity.
I cannot let him reach the town. I have to kill him here, right now.
"Splurge..."
The hundreds of water-men stepped forward, their liquid bodies shimmering as the circle tightened.
Yoru's eyes gleamed. He looked at the golden strands of mana pulsing inside each puppet. To him, this wasn't a death trap; it was a harvest festival.
"Today is a day for a feast. Come forth."
Instead of his usual Soul Body, the air was suddenly torn apart by a gutteral roar and a blinding flash of golden light.
The Golden Goat Head God made his grand entrance.
"ROAARRR!!!"
The Goat Head stood nearly ten feet tall, its golden fur radiating a divine (if somewhat tacky) light. It bellowed toward the sky, trying to look as intimidating as possible.
"Stop posing," Yoru barked.
The Goat Head immediately hunched its shoulders and shut its mouth, looking like a kicked puppy. It had learned its lesson: don't try to out-edge the Boss unless you want a face full of "Abstract" slaps.
"Go," Yoru commanded.
With permission to hunt, the Golden Goat Head turned toward the water puppets. It sensed the golden mana inside them—mana that was technically higher-tier than its own. But instead of fear, the Goat Head felt a surge of predatory greed. Its jaw split open into a dozen writhing tentacles, and it charged into the fray, the earth shaking under its weight.
Yoru waved a hand, and a sleek black chair manifested out of thin air. He sat down, crossing his legs like he was watching a movie.
The Weather God was stronger than the Goat Head, but these puppets were just low-energy drones. For a Spirit that had lived for centuries and evolved into a "Tame God," this was child's play.
The scene could only be described as a slaughter. The Goat Head's tentacles lashed out, bisecting puppets and shattering their liquid forms with ease.
But Yoru, watching from his chair, noticed a pattern.
I see...
Every time the Goat Head smashed a puppet, that puppet's golden mana didn't dissipate. Instead, it flowed into the nearest standing puppet. The Goat Head was racking up "kills," but the total mana pool wasn't shrinking. The Weather God was just condensing his forces. As the number of puppets decreased, the survivors became faster and stronger.
"So you're trying to dodge my appetite by consolidating your energy?" Yoru smiled, critiquing the God's tactics. "Clever move. Too bad it's completely useless (B.Y.D)."
Yoru stood up and stretched.
High above, the Weather God braced itself. Is the monster finally moving?
But Yoru just waved a hand at the Goat Head. "Keep playing with them. I'm bored."
He turned his back on the battlefield and started walking toward the inn. "I'm heading back to the room. Peace out!"
The Weather God stalled. Wait, what?! That's not how this works!
In a normal battle, the hero and the villain are supposed to trade blows, test each other's limits, and then unleash their ultimates. Who the hell just leaves in the middle of a boss fight?!
But the God realized he was the one being played. Yoru didn't need to fight him right now. For the God, every second Yoru spent with Hina Amano was a countdown to a "Purity" failure. The God was the one on a timer.
I have to kill him NOW.
"Sigh..."
A mournful, weeping breeze swept through the fields. A light, misty rain began to fall once more.
The Golden Goat Head, currently wrestling a four-meter-tall mega-puppet, suddenly went rigid. It lifted its head, looking down the road. Several figures emerged from the mist.
They were young women, holding traditional paper umbrellas and wearing elegant kimonos. Their faces were obscured by the shadows of their umbrellas as they stepped through the puddles.
The Goat Head felt the overwhelming pressure radiating from them and shivered. It retracted its tentacles and looked at Yoru, bleating frantically: "@&$#!! %#&!!"*
"What the hell are you saying? Learn to speak Japanese, you uncultured goat," Yoru sighed, but his eyes narrowed as he looked at the girls.
He knew what they were. These were Divine Envoys. Much like the fox-faced girls that followed the Goat Head, these were former "Weather Maidens"—girls like Hina who had been successfully sacrificed to the God over the centuries. They were no longer human, but high-tier spectral servants.
"Truly disgusting," Yoru muttered.
The Goat Head felt a chill. The Boss usually looked relaxed, but whenever he used the word "disgusting"... it meant the Professional Exorcist was actually getting pissed off.
"Onimaru Kunitsuna."
The pitch-black blade manifested in the air, its hilt sliding perfectly into Yoru's grip. Tsuna-chan didn't bother manifesting her human form yet; she preferred the sensation of being gripped and wielded by her Master. The rougher he fought, the more she loved it.
"Back off," Yoru told the Goat Head.
The Goat Head didn't need to be told twice. It scurried to the sidelines. It knew this wasn't its level.
"Give up your resistance," one of the umbrella-bearing maidens said. Her voice was cold, hollow, and filled with a centuries-old resentment. "To be chosen by our Lord is a girl's greatest honor. It is the duty of a Weather Maiden to sacrifice her life so that the seasons may remain stable."
Yoru remained silent.
The Envoy continued, "Do you think killing our Lord will help? No. The weather is naturally chaotic. Our Lord is the one who maintains the order. He only asks for a few paltry lives as payment. If you kill him, you will be the criminal who lets the sky go wild. You, and that girl Hina Amano, will be responsible for the death of millions."
"Heh."
Yoru's laughter was sharp and mocking. "B.Y.D... are you really trying to 'Moral Kidnap' me? Too bad I don't have any morals to kidnap."
Yoru raised his blade, his gaze piercing the clouds with a manic, predatory intensity.
"The weather will go out of control? I'll be a criminal?"
"Once I've shredded your 'Lord' and eaten every scrap of his essence, we'll see if the sky has anything left to say."
Yoru didn't wait for a rebuttal. He held Onimaru Kunitsuna horizontally before him. Black flames erupted from his skin, weaving into his trench coat and mask. He whispered his Soul's True Name:
"Bane of Evil: Twilight of the Eight Million."
The hem of his black coat fluttered in the divine breeze. The mask locked into place. He glared at the Envoys, his killing intent now a physical weight.
"You got PUA-ed into dying, and now you want to drag Hina into the same trap?"
"You like gaslighting people into 'duty'?"
"I'm going to give you all a one-way ticket to the void."
The Golden Goat Head watched from the bushes, shaking with terror. It had never felt this level of power from Yoru before. The air was so dense it felt like it had turned to lead. The Goat Head felt a wave of relief that it had never truly crossed the Boss.
"It seems we must fight—"
The lead Envoy didn't finish her sentence. The "Mask" simply vanished.
CRACK.
In the next microsecond, a sickening crunch echoed. One of the Envoys was pinned to the ground, Yoru's boot crushing her skull into the dirt. Onimaru Kunitsuna had already run her through.
"One."
The black blade shimmered, and the Envoy's spiritual body was instantly shredded. Yoru opened his mouth and inhaled the fragments. He spoke with a chilling cheerfulness that made the remaining Envoys shiver.
"Spirit Sashimi. Not a bad flavor."
High in the clouds, the Weather God felt a physical pang of loss. It took a hundred years for him to find a suitable candidate for an Envoy and infuse her with enough power to serve him. This wasn't like losing a water puppet; this was a permanent loss of divine capital.
BOOM!!!
The thunder roared in fury. The remaining Envoys, their faces remaining deathly still, raised their hands. Golden mana pulsed around them. Multiple bolts of lightning lanced down from the sky, aiming at the Mask at a speed no human could dodge.
At the Inn.
Hina Amano sat on the porch steps, watching the paper "Sunshine Dolls" sway violently in the wind. The lightning was constant now, and the rain was weirdly rhythmic. Her heart was heavy.
"Can't sleep, dear?"
The Innkeeper Granny pulled up a chair and sat next to her, a warm smile on her wrinkled face.
Hina forced a smile. "No... it's a bit loud, isn't it?"
"Age makes you a light sleeper," the Granny chuckled. She looked at the freakish weather. "The sky... it's been strange these past few months. It's almost like someone offended a God and brought down a divine punishment."
Hina bit her lip. Even though Yoru had cleared her mind, hearing someone call it a "punishment" made her feel that familiar pang of guilt—that this was all her fault for wanting to live.
"Do you... do you know the legends of the Weather Maidens (Sunshine Girls)?"
"Oh, those?" The Granny looked thoughtful. "I didn't think young folks like you still cared about those old ghost stories."
"Do you think..." Hina hesitated. "That the chosen girl should fulfill her duty? That she should... sacrifice herself?"
"Of course not."
"Eh?" Hina was stunned. The Granny's expression had turned stern.
"How could any decent person think that? Forcing an innocent girl to die just so the weather behaves? That shouldn't be allowed."
"But... if she doesn't, the rain won't stop..."
"Listen to me, child," the Granny took Hina's hand, her voice firm. "What's the difference between that and a kidnapper on the news holding a hostage for a ransom? There is no difference."
"Look at the Miyamizu Shrine in Itomori. Their God asks for offerings, sure—some sake, some dancing, some traditional rituals. That's a real God. He protects the people in exchange for respect. But a thing that demands a girl's life? That's not a God. That's just a bully. A 'bad thing'."
As the Granny spoke, Hina's attention drifted.
She saw the Red Threads of the Itomori God manifest in the air. They wove into a little stick figure that was doing a celebratory dance and flexing its tiny yarn muscles.
It was as if the God of Itomori was saying: "See? Listen to the lady! I'm the Real Deal! I'm a God-tier Good Boy!"