The Edo Era's Only Demon King Guardian

"So... what's going on here?"

Even Kenjaku had never heard of anything like this.

A cursed spirit that had already died had actually been born from nothingness again, thanks to the fear people had accumulated over hundreds of years.

Then-

What about Shuten-dōji?

He raised his head and watched the figure solidifying before him, his mind racing.

This body wasn't suited to combat. He hadn't even considered fighting when he'd chosen it. If it came down to blows, never mind someone on Ibaraki-dōji's level-even a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit would be a struggle.

He would probably have to call Kashimo or the Ten Shadows user over.

The problem was-

Where was Kashimo?

Kenjaku recalled the last piece of news he'd received. Outside Edo Castle, Gojo Arashi had been killed.

He truly hadn't expected that outcome. Although that Six Eyes user hadn't fully matured yet, he wasn't someone just anyone could kill. If Kashimo had taken him down, that meant the man had grown stronger since their last meeting.

But knowing Kashimo, there was no way he would kill Gojo Arashi without thoroughly plundering Edo afterward.

Kenjaku remembered how that blue-haired man in white asked to borrow money every time they met, and his eyelid twitched.

Ever since he'd met the man, his wallet had never been full again.

At that moment, Kenjaku was sweating a little.

The word looked rather comical applied to that perpetually smiling face, but he really was breaking out in a cold sweat.

Before him, Ibaraki-dōji was about to finish being born. His cursed energy was growing denser, his form clearer, and pupils were beginning to flicker into view within those hollow eye sockets.

And Kenjaku had no way to make a quick escape.

He couldn't just throw out every cursed object he had.

He was saving those for the Culling Game.

Just as he was frantically weighing whether to run or take a gamble-

"Yo, Kenjaku."

A voice came from overhead.

It was languid, with a teasing edge.

"Looks like you're in a bit of a bind."

Kenjaku looked up.

At that moment, he swore it was the first time in his life he'd ever thought Kashimo's voice sounded so wonderful.

On a nearby tree, a blue-haired figure in white stood on a branch. Sunlight shone from behind him, silhouetting his entire body, but his eyes, marked with purple patterns, were astonishingly bright.

A girl in red robes stood on another tree. Her ponytail was tied high, and she was looking down at him with a hint of curiosity in her red eyes.

Kenjaku's expression shifted.

Then his signature smile returned.

"You've arrived just in time," he said.

"Precisely when I needed you."

Kenjaku turned sideways and raised a hand to indicate the cursed womb solidifying ahead of him. Ibaraki-dōji's outline was becoming increasingly clear, and the intense fluctuations of cursed energy were already making the surrounding air warp slightly.

"This is Ibaraki-dōji, an evil demon from the Heian period," he said. "For some reason, he's appeared again."

With that, he made an inviting gesture. It was elegant and proper, as though he were inviting someone to sit down for dinner.

Standing in the tree, Kashimo's eye twitched.

Fuck.

Sure, I can fight, but that's not all I can do.

You bastard, do you think I'm your personal hired muscle?

He opened his mouth, about to speak.

"Fine."

A voice came from beside him, beating him to it.

Kashimo turned his head.

On the other tree, Fenghua stood with her arms crossed, her red eyes fixed on Kenjaku below.

"But we'll need appropriate compensation."

Kenjaku's hand paused.

He raised his head, shifting his gaze from Kashimo to the girl in red. A trace of appraisal flashed through his eyes. Her total cursed energy seemed unremarkable, but she could just barely qualify as Special Grade. Still, she certainly wasn't a Special Grade on Kashimo's level.

Kenjaku tilted his head.

"And you-"

He paused, lifting his chin slightly.

"Who are you?"

"I'm-"

Fenghua had only just begun.

"My apprentice."

Kashimo's voice cut in from beside her, beating her to it.

"She's my apprentice."

Kenjaku stood where he was and blinked.

Then blinked again.

For the first time, that face with its perpetually composed smile went visibly blank.

An apprentice?

A girl?

His gaze moved back and forth between Kashimo and Fenghua twice. The blue-haired man in white stood in the tree, looking utterly unconcerned. The girl in red stood in another tree, looking down at him.

A girl.

An apprentice.

A female apprentice?

Kenjaku's mind raced for a moment. In all the years he'd known Kashimo, he'd never seen him take an interest in anyone beyond whether they "could fight" or "couldn't fight." Men and women were all just lumps of meat to him-those had been his own words.

But now...

Had the impossible finally happened?

No.

He'd taken an apprentice.

A female apprentice.

Huh?

But this wasn't the time to think about that.

Kenjaku quickly gathered his thoughts, suppressed the lingering blankness on his face, and restored his signature smile. He looked up at Kashimo in the tree.

"What do you want?"

Kashimo jumped down from the tree and landed in front of Kenjaku. He brushed the leaves off his robes, raised his head, and looked at him calmly.

"I want us to make a binding vow."

He spoke.

"I'll help you kill Ibaraki-dōji. And you-"

He paused, staring into Kenjaku's eyes.

"Must bring me back through incarnation on June 20, 2002."

Kenjaku froze for a moment.

2002?

That date...

His mind quickly worked through it. Kashimo must have had a reason for choosing that date. But it didn't matter. By Kenjaku's own calculations, he might not even make it that far. The Culling Game should have already begun before then.

By that point, he himself would be gone, and naturally, the binding vow would...

Kenjaku's smile deepened for an instant.

"No problem."

His voice was light, as though he were agreeing to some trivial favor.

The instant the words left his mouth, a faint ripple of cursed energy flashed between them.

The binding vow was established.

Kashimo didn't look at him again. He turned and walked toward the now fully formed cursed womb nearby. He took the Soul-Devouring Blade off his shoulder and gripped it in his hand, its blade gleaming darkly in the sunlight.

Behind him, Fenghua stood in the tree, looking down at his retreating back.

The Edo era's only Demon King Guardian.

Now he was about to take the stage.

The next second, the ground beneath their feet abruptly collapsed.

It hadn't truly collapsed-the entire world was spinning, tearing apart, and reassembling itself. Everything went black before the three of them, and a second later, their bodies lost all support, tumbling through an endless sensation of falling.

When their vision cleared, they were already inside a blood-red space.

There was no sky, no ground, only endless red. It was as though they had been stuffed into some enormous creature's body, surrounded on all sides by sticky, pulsing walls of living flesh.

Masses of flesh crisscrossed in layers like spiderwebs, weaving grotesque patterns through the space. Blood slowly flowed along those patterns and dripped down, gathering below in pools of unknown depth. Heads, skulls, and severed limbs lay piled haphazardly everywhere, like toys some mad god had casually discarded.

And on those crisscrossing masses of flesh-

Countless eyes were staring at them.

Monsters.

Monsters of every kind. Some resembled withered skeletons, some had hideous faces, and some were nothing more than twisted black shadows, but every last one radiated greed. Their gazes settled on the three of them as though they were fresh meat delivered straight to their door.

"So..."

Kenjaku adjusted his posture in midair, his brows furrowing slightly.

"His innate domain is the Hundred Demons?"

No one answered him.

Because another voice had already drowned out everything else.

"Aaaaaah-!"

Fenghua's scream echoed through the blood-red space. Weightless, she flailed her arms and legs wildly, all her earlier aloof composure gone. Her red robes fluttered as she fell, her ponytail came undone, and her long hair whipped about in the wind.

"What are the Hundred Demons?!"

Her voice cracked.

Kenjaku glanced at her, something hard to define in his gaze.

Putting on an act with that little courage?

You've got some nerve, little girl.

He withdrew his gaze and resumed his usual composed tone, as though explaining some perfectly ordinary piece of knowledge.

"The Hundred Demons are all the monsters of legend," he said, his voice remaining clear amid the wind of their fall. "And Ibaraki-dōji's innate domain is clearly their gathering place."

He paused.

"This place is connected to the Underworld. I'm afraid the Demon King may be here too."

Beside him-

Kashimo kept his head upright and his feet pointed down, falling straight.

His eyes were closed.

He said nothing.

The Soul-Devouring Blade fell alongside him, its pitch-black blade tracing a dark path through the blood-red space.