The sky gradually darkened. The once-calm sea began to churn, waves rolling and swelling one after another. The moment the waters grew violent, the villagers—who had long worn numb, lifeless expressions—finally broke. Fear and bitter resentment surfaced across their faces.
They had seen this scene far too many times already. Every time the sea lost its calm, it meant the same thing: someone else they loved would be taken from them.
"Have you prepared today's offering?"A deep, smug voice echoed over the crashing surf."You should understand—creatures as merciful as I am are exceedingly rare. Other yokai would have swallowed this entire village in one gulp. I, on the other hand, merely demand one offering per day in exchange for everyone else's safety. That's generosity, wouldn't you say?"
As massive waves slammed against the shore, a grotesque figure emerged, surrounded by swirling seawater. It stood roughly five to six shaku tall, its form enormous and bloated. Its face resembled that of a Buddhist monk—yet carried unmistakable fish-like traits as well. Despite its inhuman appearance, it spoke fluent human language, gripping a staff that looked much like a monk's khakkhara.
The moment it spoke, the villagers fell into a state of silent rage—too terrified to protest, too furious to accept it.
Was the Umibōzu truly sparing the village out of kindness?
Of course not.
The truth was far simpler: it was afraid of dying.
With the age of rampant yokai upon the world, countless powerful demons had grown restless, eager to carve out territories of their own. But to rule as a yokai lord, one needed either overwhelming strength or an extraordinary bloodline.
The Umibōzu possessed neither.
With its current power, it could survive comfortably in this chaotic era—perhaps not domineering, but certainly unbothered. If becoming a true overlord was impossible, why risk venturing inland to serve as some stronger yokai's underling?
As long as it remained tied to the sea, it could unleash power rivaling A-rank great yokai. And if it ever faced an enemy it couldn't defeat, it could simply retreat into the ocean without hesitation.
As long as it had the sea, it was untouchable.
Lurking and growing in the ocean was a sound strategy—but the Umibōzu still harbored ambition.
Given such overwhelming geographical advantage, why shouldn't it rule its own domain?
It wanted greater power, yet feared straying too far from the sea. In the end, it set its sights on the nearby fishing villages.
It understood the principle of overfishing all too well. There were only so many coastal villages—devour them all at once, and the food supply would vanish. So instead, it chose a slow, sustainable method.
Human reproduction was prolific. By taking just one offering from each village in turn, it could steadily grow stronger without ever running out of prey.
More importantly, this method allowed it to harvest an endless supply of fear every time it appeared.
"I… I am this time's offering,"Ren Kuroda said quietly, stepping forward from the crowd in a fisherman's outfit, his expression heavy with resignation—just as the plan demanded."Please, Umibōzu-sama… spare the other villagers."
In truth, Ren had believed that the moment the Umibōzu revealed itself, they could attack directly—no bait necessary.
But Yamato Kuka had pointed out a fatal flaw.
If they fought inside the village, the aftermath alone could kill innocent people. Worse, if the Umibōzu were cornered, it might take villagers hostage—forcing them to hold back.
After thorough discussion, they decided to let it take the "offering" away from the village first… and strike once it was isolated.
"Oh?"The Umibōzu's eyes gleamed with interest."Didn't expect a village like this to still have such a young man. Not bad—at least you've got more meat on you than those old men and brats."
At those words, Ren's gaze shifted past the monster.
Behind it stood several children, quietly sobbing. Boys and girls alike—none older than ten.
The Umibōzu always delayed taking women and young girls until last. Not because they didn't suit its taste, but because villages needed to keep producing future 'food.'
Confident in his ability to suppress his presence, Ren showed no reaction. After a brief inspection, the Umibōzu found nothing amiss. Seawater surged beneath its feet, lifting Ren and turning back toward the ocean.
Following the creature's route, Ren discreetly activated a talisman Kamishiro Issei had given him.
Just as the Umibōzu prepared to slip back into the sea with today's "offering," a powerful sense of danger exploded in its mind.
Clang—!
A sharp, metallic crash rang out between Ren and the Umibōzu.
Ren had attempted to ambush it from behind—aiming to drive his blade straight through its skull. But the creature's vigilance was extreme, and with children nearby, he couldn't strike freely.
The staff—like a monk's khakkhara—blocked Ren's Nichirin blade, saving the Umibōzu from decapitation. Still, the ferocious blade aura tore across its slimy, pancake-like face, spraying blood into the air.
Before the Umibōzu could even roar in fury, an overwhelming force slammed into its arm—sending its massive body flying.
In the same instant he struck, Ren sheathed his sword, scooped up the stunned children, and vanished in a blur.
Though sent flying, the Umibōzu remained conscious—and mobile.
Seeing its prey about to escape, it roared and swung its staff. Seawater surged unnaturally upward, defying gravity, condensing into several massive water serpents that lunged straight toward Ren.
"Tch… this artificial body really is lacking," Ren muttered."If this were my original body, even if that blow had been blocked, it wouldn't have had the strength to counterattack."
As a half-human, half-yokai, Ren's true body possessed monstrous physical power. Combined with Monstrous Might, that strike would have cleaved the Umibōzu—and its staff—clean in two.
But this body was a hastily made artificial vessel crafted by Medea. Its functions were adequate, yet compared to his true form, the gap was undeniable.
Just as Ren hesitated—wondering whether he should put the children down and turn to face the oncoming water serpents—a burst of golden light erupted behind him.
"You've done more than enough, Ren,"a calm voice said."Take the children somewhere safe. We'll handle the rest."
A wall of golden radiance rose like a fortress, completely blocking the raging torrents. When Ren looked back, he saw a towering phantom of a wrathful Vajra King—brandishing a vajra, bathed in brilliant Buddhist light, its presence overwhelming.
The phantom enveloped a bald monk standing beneath it.
Monk Hakuba clasped his prayer beads, his expression solemn and unshakable—the very image of an enlightened master.
The water serpents disintegrated the instant they reached the Vajra King's palm.
With the monk's sudden arrival, the dazzling Buddhist manifestation, and Ren's earlier ambush, even the Umibōzu wasn't stupid enough to miss the truth.
It had been played.
In raw power, Ren's spiritual energy was only B+ rank, while Hakuba's was barely B-rank—far below the Umibōzu's A- rank yokai power.
And yet…
The moment it saw Hakuba's overwhelming "special effects," the Umibōzu's survival instincts screamed danger.
Despite holding the advantage, it chose to flee.
These exorcists had followed it carefully—clearly prepared. As the saying went, a wise man doesn't fight a losing battle.
They were just offerings. Not worth risking its life.
Once it reached the sea, even an S-rank exorcist could do nothing but stare helplessly at the endless ocean.
Decision made, the Umibōzu turned—only to hear a thunderous boom echo through the air.
Its massive body slammed into something invisible, like blinking straight into a wall.
The Umibōzu splattered against an unseen barrier, sliding down like a lump of rotten flesh.
"Honestly,"a voice sighed as a figure slowly emerged from thin air,"couldn't you stall a little longer? Setting up a barrier strong enough to trap an A-rank yokai takes time. I almost didn't make it."
Kamishiro Issei revealed himself, grinning faintly—just about to boast about the grandeur of his barrier—
When a furious shout cut him off.
Ever since witnessing the suffering of the villagers and the despair in their eyes, Yamato Kuka's anger had been pinned at maximum.
So intense that even Kamishiro Issei—normally shameless to a fault—dared not crack a joke in front of her now.