Chapter 80: The School of Demon Blade Wielders

A few minutes later, the five members of the Demon-Slaying Bureau arrived together at the bloodstained entrance of the teahouse. A handful of villagers were still lingering nearby, drawn by the spectacle of the slain demon. Upon seeing the five officials in their somber, uniform attire, the villagers instinctively realized these were government men and scattered in silence.

At the same time, the bisected corpse of the red ogre, felled by Zhou Yan in a single strike, was revealed before the Bureau members.

The instant Kenji Ohira saw the ogre’s remains, he was certain this was the very demon that had attacked the neighboring village and been driven off by them previously.

He stepped forward, crouched by the red ogre’s corpse, and laid his hand upon its massive body. A faint glow emanated from his palm.

After more than ten seconds, he stood up, his expression grave.

“The demon power within this red ogre has completely dissipated… not a trace remains.”

Hearing this, one of the team members standing nearby exclaimed in disbelief, “It’s been less than a day, and all the demon power is gone?”

Kenji Ohira shook his head and beckoned to a subordinate. “You. Go confirm with the village chief right away where the person who slew this demon has gone!”

“Yes, sir!”

As the subordinate hurried off, Kenji Ohira gazed down at the ogre’s remains, his face inscrutable.

Could it be that school?

The secret school said to seize the power of demons, to command demon blades.

A school rumored to slay even gods and buddhas…

*

Neither Zhou Yan nor Oboro was aware of the Demon-Slaying Bureau’s movements.

Following the directions on their map, they first made their way to the nearby coastline, then continued along the shore. Both possessed strength beyond the ordinary, moving at a pace much faster than most. Before sunset on the first day, they had already crossed out of Mikawa Province and entered a territory known as “Enshu.”

This made Zhou Yan unable to resist a wry remark, feeling as if his worldview had been somewhat upended.

This so-called “Mikawa Province” and “Enshu”—why did they seem even smaller than a modern city?

To think he had worried, upon hearing they’d need to cross so many countries, about whether thirty days would be enough to reach the so-called Edo Castle in Musashi Province.

As evening fell, the two arrived at a remote fishing village by the sea.

Zhou Yan saw the fine beads of sweat gathering on the girl’s fair forehead and said gently, “Oboro, the sun is about to set. Traveling at night is too dangerous. How about we rest in this village for the night?”

Oboro nodded obediently, visibly relieved. Clearly, carrying so much baggage and refusing to let Zhou Yan help, after a full day’s journey she was nearly at her limit.

However, upon entering this tiny fishing village, both their expressions darkened.

From the outside, nothing had been amiss, but the village was already deserted. Everywhere lay devastation and ruin, traces of dried blood scattered about, as if the place had been attacked by a band even more vicious than mountain bandits.

“Is this the result of war, or…?” Zhou Yan frowned.

“I don’t think it’s war…” Oboro pondered and said, “I’ve heard my father and others in the village occasionally discuss current affairs. Even though it’s said the current Shogun Tsunayoshi is a tyrant, the country hasn’t yet descended into open conflict.”

“So it’s either bandits, or…” The girl voiced her suspicion, “Demons.”

Demons…

Zhou Yan recalled the three-meter-tall red ogre and nodded. In this ancient era, with peasants lacking martial strength, just three or four such ogres could probably crush all resistance in a village.

“What a world of suffering…” he murmured softly.

Oboro stared at Zhou Yan, increasingly aware that his bearing and speech set him apart from the villagers, and even from the worldly traveling merchants she’d met before. There was also his strength in slaying demons, and the strange “red light medicine” he’d given her that could heal wounds.

‘Lord Yan is truly extraordinary.’

She felt more certain than ever that she had chosen the right person to follow.

Zhou Yan was oblivious to the girl’s thoughts. He simply brought her along to find a small house in the ruined village that was still intact, intending to stay there for the night.

Oboro moved with practiced efficiency. She swiftly cleaned the dirty inner room, opened her pack, and began spreading bedding on the still-sound wooden floor.

Zhou Yan, glancing inadvertently at the girl kneeling in her black mourning dress as she made the bed, felt a twinge of awkwardness.

Her figure was not voluptuous, but the curve of her waist and hips and her long, graceful legs were undeniably attractive. In that mourning attire, her beauty took on a strange, beguiling quality.

A beauty made all the more striking by grief…

Damn it, Zhou Yan, she’s wearing mourning clothes because her family died, and here you are thinking such things! Are you even human?

He forced himself to look away, only to notice something that compelled him to ask.

“Oboro, are we… sleeping in the same room tonight?”

Indeed, he saw that after laying out one bed, the girl was spreading a second barely a foot away.

“Yes… yes, Lord Yan. Do you… want me to sleep outside?” She bowed her head, cheeks tinged with red.

She hadn’t thought anything of it before, but Zhou Yan’s question suddenly made her feel shy and a bit upset.

Did he find her so unattractive?

Zhou Yan, catching the hint of grievance in her embarrassment, felt a headache coming on.

He scratched his head awkwardly and stammered, “Just… arrange things however you like, Oboro.”

“All right!” the girl replied, lowering her blushing face with a hint of satisfied smile, and continued making her bed.

Time passed slowly.

The sun set completely. The moon was shrouded by clouds, leaving the ruined village in utter darkness; only the window of their old house glowed with lamplight.

Zhou Yan and Oboro sat together on the floor, eating dry rations.

Oboro had added a little oil to the lamp, its flickering light casting charming shadows over her fair face.

Zhou Yan admired her delicate features, then glanced at the sword at her waist. “Oboro, that blade you repaired with the blue energy from the red ogre—do you know what it does?”

Oboro paused, then replied instinctively, “A demon blade, strengthened by demonic energy, can cut through gods, buddhas, demons—nothing can withstand it… The transformed demon power also enhances my body, making me stronger and more agile…”

She stopped abruptly, a look of confusion crossing her face. “Wait—how do I know all this?”

Zhou Yan paused as well, then said offhandedly, “Well, no need for you to explain it. In a bit, just let me see for myself.”

“Lord Yan, what do you mean by…” Oboro began, puzzled, but then her expression changed.

She suddenly stood, gripping the hilt of her sword, her face turning serious.

Zhou Yan rose as well, slowly taking off his outer robe to reveal close-fitting armor, loosening his shoulders with a smile. “Oboro, it seems we have company.”

Before his words had faded, terrifying howls rose from all around, enveloping the deserted fishing village.