The sensation after the Liver-Wood cast completed was utterly different from the first three viscera.
When the Heart-Fire had settled, it had been searing heat. When the Kidney-Water had settled, it had been a heavy stillness. When the Lung-Metal had settled, it had been a clear, austere calm.
But the Liver-Wood — was growth.
It was an uncontrolled, vigorous force spreading outward from within.
The four viscera turned within his body — fire rising, water falling, metal contracting, wood spreading — each cycle building power, yet each time leaking out at that one gap. Without a Spleen-Earth to catch fire's descent, the cycle was like a bucket with no bottom.
Even so, the change brought by the four viscera resonating together was already visible to the naked eye.
Kobe Hikaru lowered his head and glanced at his own hand.
Pale — it was still pale, of course.
After all, this was still only a projection of the Asura Mutation; at its core, it remained false.
But the quality of that pallor had changed — no longer the ashen grey of a corpse, but closer to the paleness of someone who hadn't seen sunlight in a long while, now carrying a faint hint of living flesh-tone.
Blood moved beneath the skin — not an illusion mimicked by yokai aura, but an actual circulation of warm blood.
He tried taking a deep breath.
His lungs still didn't move. The Asura's Lung was only a projection; the real lungs inside him remained dead.
But the Demon's Breath activated on its own — turbid qi surged in through mouth and nose, spun and refined within the dead lungs, then expelled, raising a thin mist over his skin.
The process was more than ten times smoother than it had been a month ago.
The inner circulation of the four viscera, though incomplete, was already running on its own — the heart pumping blood, the kidneys storing water, the lungs refining essence-qi, the liver dispersing and unblocking.
Like a body slowly waking up.
"Almost there."
Kobe Hikaru murmured under his breath.
Right now, he was truly only one step away.
One of the five viscera was still missing — just the Spleen-Earth.
Find it, and the Ten Mutations would be complete.
Once the Ten Mutations were complete, the three souls of the Eleventh Transformation already had a clear direction —
just as before.
The earth-aligned yokai soul, he already possessed naturally as an oni warrior.
The heaven soul would be granted by the Shikon Jewel once favourability reached its cap. The human soul, however, needed to be comprehended on his own — but that was the only one that did.
For the Eleventh Transformation, he would very likely achieve it in short order.
And once the Eleventh Transformation was complete, he could go straight to the Twelve-Mutation, pressing the Asura Mutation back into his true body —
and then he would truly be alive.
From Demon to devil, from death to life.
The theoretically most perfect union of quality and quantity.
By then, many matters could finally be properly set in motion.
The instant that thought crossed his mind, an odd tremor came from his waist.
It was Sakasagami no Yura again.
The comb's vibration was strange this time — not the usual rattling clatter of jealousy or coyness, but a deep hum carrying some kind of rhythm.
As if it were gathering something up.
The panel popped up.
[Sakasagami no Yura: It is attempting to re-form its human shape. Unlike an ordinary artifact, it is itself a complete Tsukumogami — only, it had long been suppressed by the shrine maiden's spiritual power. Now that favourability has reached maximum and fusion is complete, that suppression on her has also been released.]
Re-form?
Kobe Hikaru blinked, faintly startled, as if he too had only just remembered this was a thing that could happen.
Sakasagami no Yura hadn't manifested a human form in so long that he had genuinely half-forgotten about it.
Once an artifact became a yokai, it could, once enough was accumulated, use its released yokai aura to conjure a human form.
Sakasagami no Yura had originally been a yokai born from a comb, and when it first appeared, it had already taken human form once — though that had, in essence, only been a shape mimicked through yokai aura, not truly real, yet it had still been a genuine human shape in its own right.
It had limbs, skin, the sense of touch — only, hollow inside.
And now.
With favourability at its cap and fusion complete... she could finally reclaim her former shape.
A hum —
The comb detached itself from his sash.
It rose into the air on its own, hovering.
A necklace strung from seven stones clinked against the comb's handle, emerald light spilling out from between its teeth. Alongside that glow poured a great mass of black hair, growing and spreading like vines.
Strands of hair surged out from between the comb's teeth, coiling and looping through the air, forming a black cocoon.
The cocoon began to contract.
As it contracted, an outline gradually sharpened — shoulder lines, waistline, the curve of two legs, all emerging from within that mass of black hair.
The last strand of hair settled into place, covering the final blank space.
Under the moonlight, a woman's silhouette stood before Kobe Hikaru.
Not tall — reaching only about to his chest.
Almost small and dainty, one could say.
Her short black hair moved softly, the tips carrying a faint emerald sheen.
Her features were delicate and fine, the corners of her eyes slightly upturned, her lips thin and sharply outlined, carrying a naturally sharp curve with a hint of spoiled petulance hidden inside it.
Black hair wound around her body in place of clothing, looping from her collarbone across her chest and falling down along her waist — covering what needed to be covered, but covering only exactly that.
Through the gaps in the strands, pale skin was faintly visible beneath the moonlight; the shadow at the small of her back traced a deep curve, and the outline of her hips was half-hidden and half-revealed by the falling curtain of hair.
The lines were sharp, the shadows deep.
She glanced down at her own hands — five slender fingers, the tips faintly tinged green, the curve of her nails sharper than a human's.
"Different from before... isn't it?"
The girl's voice swayed as she spoke.
It was indeed different from before.
A Tsukumogami was, at its core, an artifact steeped in human desire, fused with the turbid qi of heaven and earth into a yokai — its existence tied closely to its original owner.
Sakasagami no Yura had originally been a hair comb used in life by some noble young lady of the Sengoku era.
But now, it also carried something extra — favourability toward Kobe Hikaru.
Change was inevitable; transformation was inevitable.
The one thing that never changed was its nature.
And what maximum favourability brought — absolute loyalty and devotion.
She raised her head and looked at Kobe Hikaru.
Those eyes were ink-black, with vertically slit pupils, utterly unlike a human's — one glance was enough to tell she wasn't human.
"Well?"
She tilted her head, her tone carrying a smugness she was trying, and failing, to suppress. "Finally getting a proper look at me, aren't you?"
Kobe Hikaru was indeed looking.
From top to bottom, head to toe.
His gaze was calm, no extra ripple in his Demon eyes.
Not that he even needed to fake it — even as he grew closer and closer to a living person, his corpse-like face had long since become second nature; when he chose not to show expression, he truly could remain unmoved even if a mountain collapsed before him.
"Not bad."
Yet he gave the two-word verdict sincerely, from the heart.
As before, Kobe Hikaru was always frank, never one for pretense.
The corner of Sakasagami no Yura's mouth curved up slightly, and then —
she took a step.
One step carried her directly in front of Kobe Hikaru.
The distance between them, once two strides, she crossed in one — both hands landing on his shoulders, one long leg swinging over his crossed knee as her whole body settled down with the motion.
Her legs landed on the floor at his sides; the moment her weight pressed down, the curtain of hair fell between them, blocking out most of the moonlight from outside.
The mass of black hair wound around her pressed against his chest; through the gaps in the strands came a touch that was cool and smooth, utterly unlike normal human skin — more like silk, or the finest woven cloth.
Her face drew close to his.
Close enough that he could hear her breathing.
Close enough that his crimson Demon eyes were reflected in her vertical black pupils.
"I've waited so long — I've wanted to look at you like this for ages, Lord Hikaru."
Her voice dropped low, the trailing note drawn out long against his ear.
The fingers at his waist tightened slightly; strands of hair spread on their own from his shoulder, winding around the back of his neck, slipping down inside his collar.
Kobe Hikaru didn't push her away.
Honestly, this sensation was indeed —
A boom.
Spiritual power.
Spiritual power surging from the direction of the main hall, pure to the point of piercing cold, dumped over him like a bucket of ice water.
Sakasagami no Yura's whole body exploded apart.
The black hair burst instantly into a ball, the transformed body snuffed out like a flame — collapsing from human form into a mass of black hair, then shrinking back into the comb, the whole process taking less than half a breath.
Clatter.
The comb fell to the floor, bounced twice, and rolled to rest beside Kobe Hikaru's knee.
Silence.
Not a single sound stirred.
A complete contrast to the seductive figure that had just been straddling him moments ago.
Kobe Hikaru turned his head.
What met his eyes was the door of the main hall standing open, with Kikyo standing in the doorway.
White robe, red hakama, black hair falling loose, her features cool and refined, her lips faintly colored.
Her expression — utterly blank.
The standard, unfeeling, proper blankness expected of a shrine maiden.
Kobe Hikaru clicked his tongue, though he wasn't flustered — after all, this wasn't the first time.
Kikyo's hand rested against the doorframe as well.
The spiritual power had already withdrawn, and the hall's temperature returned to normal.
She glanced once at the comb on the floor, then once more at Kobe Hikaru, still sitting cross-legged where he was, his collar pulled askew by the hair.
She said nothing.
She turned and went back into the main hall.
The door closed.
Just a soft sound, yet in the silent night it rang out with unmistakable clarity.
Kobe Hikaru lowered his head and picked up the comb from the floor.
The comb was burning hot.
A line of text popped up on the panel.
[Sakasagami no Yura: She's so scary.]
"...."
Serves you right for courting death, you little brat.
Kobe Hikaru tied the comb back onto his sash, stood up, straightened his askew collar, then drew in a breath of turbid qi
and walked toward the main hall.
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