Chapter 364: Why Doesn

“What? Say that again?!”

Beneath Mount Ryūun, the allied cultivators were being crushed by Daisilis alone on horseback, when a piece of devastating news struck like a bolt from the blue, deepening their despair.

In Nihon, becoming a cultivator—whether an onmyōji, miko, shinchan, shinshu, or even a shugenja, ichiko, oni-onna, or yamabushi—was never the path of the poor, for without substantial wealth, one could never afford to abandon livelihood for cultivation, let alone the expensive materials required to nurture shikigami or perform rituals.

Upon hearing of the Uota clan’s devastation, morale plummeted instantly.

Though most cultivator families were not originally from Uota, they all understood the principle that when the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold; they knew well the fragile state of Nihon’s lower strata—no mere thousands of peasants could slaughter a Hua clan, and even killing a single noble house would likely fail against its guard samurai.

And if an outside enemy was behind this, then if they could strike Uota once, they might strike again.

Remember, Uota was where Tenno resided, and nearly all Hua clans clustered together there—not only protected by guard samurai, but also by armies. If even such security could be overrun, what hope did isolated families like theirs have?

More importantly, Tenno held unique significance for Nihon’s entire Shinto system; its very existence symbolized the convergence of divine power. If Tenno suffered any harm during this upheaval, the entire Shinto system of Nihon would face annihilation!

“Damn the Sand Bear! They’ve allied with the Central Plains! That madwoman was nothing but bait—luring away our finest forces, while the real strike targeted our homeland!”

Tsuchinokomon Taisu slammed his fist on the table. Unlike his second brother, who had gone to the Kyūkichi Sect and was now sending messages from Tenno’s side, Taisu was the most outstanding onmyōji of his generation in the Tsuchinokomon family—and precisely because of that, he understood better than anyone that Tenno must not fall.

“What’s the current situation?”

At his question, the other end of the communication spell immediately replied:

“The commoners still fear the authority of Tenno’s Black Card and dare not advance; many Hua clans who saw the tide turning have already fled into the Imperial Palace. But given Uota’s current state, how long this aura of authority can last is uncertain. Whether the commoners break first or the mastermind gives the order, Tenno Palace’s current defenses cannot withstand these commoners who rival samurai in strength.”

“Huh…” Tsuchinokomon Taisu drew a deep breath, turned to glance at the rainbow bridge spanning the peak of Ryūun Mountain like a ladder to heaven, and gritted his teeth:

“Tenno’s Black Card cannot fall. Retreat and reinforce Uota!”

“Yes!”

Unlike Tsuchinokomon Taisu’s resentment, the cultivators below breathed easier. That woman on the mountain was simply too strong. After realizing they couldn’t defeat her head-on, they’d resorted to a war of attrition—but after so many days, she still fought with unbroken vigor, refusing food, drink, and sleep. Facing such an invincible foe, they’d long wanted to retreat.

They hadn’t retreated because no one wanted to be the first to flee and take the blame, and because some family or sect members had already gone to the Central Plains—retreating would mean betraying them.

But now, with Tenno as an excuse, everyone gladly withdrew. Within mere minutes, even the ninja on the front lines executing the attrition tactic had pulled back.

……

“That’s it?” Daisilis, who had already erected the Rainbow Bridge atop the mountain, sneered at the retreating ninja. As this unmistakable act of surrender triggered the Duel Authority, the sacred tree of Yamata no Orochi cracked like a spiderweb; its once-solid faith shattered instantly, dissolving into scattered, drifting fragments of vague belief that floated into the sky.

Over these days of fighting, she hadn’t just enjoyed herself—she’d also advanced her Valkyrie role-play to an absurd level. If things continued smoothly, even if the Heavenly Realm had no vacancy, she could forge her own new Valkyrie divine seat.

“It’s just that these spirits are too weak.”

Holding the souls of the ninja she’d intercepted with the Rainbow Bridge, Daisilis shook her head slightly. Their fearlessness was admirable, but their soul strength was pitiful. After a moment’s thought, she recalled a case from her textbook, then mashed together the ninja souls she’d crushed over these days, infused them with the Hunt Element, stamped them with her half-formed Valkyrie divine seat, and forcibly fused dozens of souls into one.

This is barely enough. Basing it on occupation, fusing an entire group into a single spirit—barely meets the threshold for summoning. What’s this occupation called again? Whatever. After being washed by the Hunt Element, they’re all vengeful spirits now. Call them ‘Hunters.’

Daisilis retracted the Rainbow Bridge and tucked the spirit-body into the temporary Spirit Hall that had formed alongside her divine seat. Legend said the first Valkyrie had used this very method to carry fallen warriors’ spirits to the true Hall of Heroes.

But with technological progress, the current system now follows the Heavenly Court’s automated spirit-retrieval tech—official Valkyries merely need to deploy a Rainbow Bridge to filter qualified souls.

Daisilis obviously couldn’t access that system now, so she simply kept it tucked in her pocket.

“By the way, after fighting so long, Yamata no Orochi’s faith is basically shattered—it’ll take decades to reform. That demon god should…” “What the—?! What’s going on?!”

Daisilis nearly bulged her beautiful eyes out of their sockets, her brain buzzing. In her vision, the readings had turned completely blood-red—a massive number so huge she dared not count the zeros.

“Good, it’s just a warning reading—the precise reading hasn’t turned red yet… good… good for a [BEEP]!”

Daisilis cursed in her native tongue, her wildly surging divine power shaking the entire mountain.

The retreating Nihon cultivators sensed that terrifying aura and redoubled their pace.

“That makes no sense! Yamata no Orochi’s faith was shattered by my Duel Authority! Even if it didn’t vanish, it shouldn’t be responsive at all for a long time! Why is the reading still spiking?!”

Daisilis remained utterly unaware of her own mistake. She stared, her slowed brain straining to its limit, finally locking onto the retreating cultivators below—

“Ah! Why are they retreating? If they’d kept fighting, I wouldn’t have shattered Yamata no Orochi’s faith so quickly! Are they doing this on purpose? Or were they here just to buy time?”

Daisilis had a sudden insight and activated the Hunt Authority again. This time, she felt that bone-deep connection once more—clearly, unmistakably.

“So you’ve come back silently, have you? Now that your faith is shattered, I’d like to see what tricks you still have!”

Daisilis clenched her teeth, flicked the reins, and the radiant steed, having tasted victory in battle, obediently spread its wings. A luminous path stretched from the mountain peak to the clouds. With a shrill neigh, Daisilis spurred her horse skyward, racing toward the city of Uota…

(End of Chapter)