The demon appeared right on time.
The sun had only just set, and the world had yet to sink fully into night, when Haruto's outstretched senses picked up the demon's presence.
Until then, Haruto had been wondering where this demon, which appeared in the fields so punctually, hid during the day.
Only when the demon appeared did he finally understand.
Yuanxia Yamato had been staying in the village all along.
It began with a deeply unsettling sound of bamboo poles striking the ground.
If someone closed their eyes and listened, they might have mistaken it for a clumsy blind man repeatedly pounding the ground with his walking stick.
Haruto looked toward the nearby houses. The wooden door of the Yuanxia House was awkwardly pushed open, and a scarecrow wearing a loose navy blue monk's robe, a conical hat, and Buddhist beads around his neck came down the path toward the fields, carrying a sickle.
After the murders in the fields, the police had searched the Yuanxia House and found nothing. The villagers considered the place unlucky and refused to approach it.
No one could have imagined that this scarecrow, known as a vengeful spirit, had been staying in his own home all along.
Even Haruto had not realized that the demonic aura drifting through the air was no lingering residue, but the presence of someone watching from the darkness.
He drew a deep breath and pulled the long blade from his waist.
Yuanxia Yamato seemed not to have seen him-but that was impossible. At such close range, any other demon might already have lunged at Haruto and tried to tear him apart.
The scarecrow hopped along with his sickle, giving the patch of farmland where Haruto stood a wide berth.
"Hey! I'm talking to you!" the White-Haired Swordsman suddenly called