After leaving the demon slayers' village, Kikyo traveled the land alone, saving lives while keeping an ear out for news of the Shikon Jewel and Naraku. After witnessing the soldiers' wretched condition in the aftermath of battle, she stayed for a time at a nearby temple to treat the wounded. As many soldiers died from wounds and illness after the fighting as died in battle itself. Many monsters drained the life from humans when injury left them weak, preventing their wounds from healing and leaving them to die in agony.
Carrying a basket of medicine, Kikyo approached a wounded soldier who could only lie on the ground atop a thin straw mat. The miko's clear, bright eyes plainly saw what ordinary people could not: a palm-sized monster crouched on the injured man's face, trying to steal his life. Her expression unchanged, Kikyo gently extended her index finger and touched its body. The monster instantly turned to ash and vanished from the man's face, and his pained expression gradually eased.
"Lady Miko, what's wrong with him?" Seeing her touch the empty air above the wounded man's face, his fellow soldier asked in cautious bewilderment.
"Nothing. He's all right now." Kikyo shook her head gently. "He'll wake up tomorrow."
As they spoke, a group of warriors approached from the distance, armored and carrying spears. Though better equipped than ordinary soldiers, their gear was still crude, marking them as lower-ranking warriors. Even so, their status was higher than that of these soldiers, and their faces showed undisguised pride and superiority. Unlike these farmers turned soldiers, they carried the grim air of men who had fought for their convictions.
"Are you the miko who treats wounded soldiers without distinguishing friend from foe, and uses strange magic to save the dying?" An elderly man with