Chapter 96: Our Ancestors Were All Shrine People

Seeing Upkawa Chie’s curious eyes nearly sparkling, Upkawa Mitsu smiled in reply.

“Yes, Gojo’s father died at the start—but Chie, you might not have noticed, but if you watch Inuyasha yourself, you’ll find everyone in it has no father.”

Upkawa Mitsu gave Chie examples.

“Inuyasha’s and Sesshomaru’s father is dead, Miroku’s father is dead, Shippo’s father is dead, Sango and Kohaku’s father is dead, Jinenji’s father is dead, Shizuka’s father is dead… and there are many more I won’t list.”

He still remembered, back in his previous life, when he saw on the Inuyasha BBS someone say, “This anime really kills dads,” and he thought he’d stumbled upon a keyboard warrior, ready to reply to the post.

Making an anime isn’t easy—why are you insulting them?

But when he read the content, he fell silent.

The post’s title wasn’t an insult or curse—it was stating a fact: Inuyasha really is an anime where everyone’s father dies; it might just be the legendary “Where’s My Dad?”

Upkawa Chie blinked her eyes.

I didn’t say anything wrong—Tsuchinomiya Xia Mei is just like Kikyo, and I’m just like Gojo…

At that moment, Upkawa Chie’s imaginative little mind spun, imagining possibilities.

The next instant.

“Nii-san, don’t you think our family might be a Shinto lineage?”

Upkawa Chie sounded excited.

If I’m like Gojo, doesn’t that mean our family could be a Shinto lineage too, just like hers—our ancestors were all shrine people?

Upkawa Mitsu: “????”

He couldn’t keep up with the speed of Upkawa Chie’s train of thought.

What’s going on? How did you go from saying Gojo has no father to asking if our family is a Shinto lineage? Hmm… could it be because both you and Gojo lost your fathers, and that’s what triggered the association?

Upkawa Chie always loved watching shrine maidens, but unlike Tsuchinomiya Xia Mei’s obsession, she admired their glamorous demon-slaying—finding it beautiful and cool.

“Nii-san, don’t you think it’s possible?” Upkawa Chie asked again.

Upkawa Mitsu was torn between laughter and exasperation.

“Chie, what are you thinking? Gojo’s family is a wealthy shrine—our family lives in a slum. How could we possibly be a destitute Shinto lineage?”

“Maybe we were, once—maybe we fell from grace, lost our fortune.”

“…”

After this idle chatter, Upkawa Mitsu almost believed Upkawa Chie’s nonsense—apparently, his little sister was the master of persuasion.

“Regardless of whether our family is a Shinto lineage or not, Chie, don’t go messing around with supernatural things. Let the supernatural handle the supernatural—we just live our quiet lives.”

“But what if our family really is a Shinto lineage, and demons come to cause trouble, and they show up right at our doorstep?”

“Do you think I’m air? Even if demons really do come, don’t you dare act recklessly—call me immediately if anything happens, I’ll handle it. You just stay behind me.”

Upkawa Mitsu tapped Upkawa Chie’s little head, speaking sternly.

Though he couldn’t follow her logic, after their talk, Upkawa Mitsu understood: Upkawa Chie likely admired the coolness of shrine maidens and wanted to become one to punish evil.

For this, Upkawa Mitsu absolutely refused.

Others might not know, but Upkawa Mitsu knew—through this invasion by the Void Demon Realm, he had learned that other realms would soon invade, and he knew those realms weren’t limited to the Void Demon Realm; some were even stronger than it.

The law of the strong devouring the weak was eternal, true in every world.

By spending a few script points, Upkawa Mitsu learned there were countless other realms, invading each other for profit, power, and countless other reasons.

Earth’s invasion was inevitable.

The Void Demon Realm’s invasion was only the beginning—more realms would come later.

Upkawa Mitsu had already experienced the horror of otherworldly beings through the Six-Eyed Demon and the Ritual Master, so even if he gave Upkawa Chie power, he didn’t want her risking herself—he only wanted her to use it to protect herself, not carry burdens.

He knew he deceived other realms and did all this precisely to give Upkawa Chie a peaceful, friendly world—how could he possibly let her risk her life?

As for letting her risk herself to grow stronger—even if death meant resurrection—he never once considered it.

Because…

The thousands in the battlefield weren’t resurrected—they were copied.

When he was the Kūkai monk, he once planned to spend system points to resurrect the dead in the battlefield, but the system told him it was impossible—script points were insufficient. Resurrection breaks the law of life and death, defies the immutable rules, so even resurrecting one person requires massive script points.

At that time, Upkawa Mitsu’s script points weren’t enough to resurrect even one person, let alone a thousand.

Therefore, Upkawa Mitsu never entertained the idea of training Upkawa Chie by risking her life, knowing he couldn’t gamble on her survival—he didn’t know how many script points were needed, what if it was astronomical? What if he could never gather such a vast amount?

Even if, hypothetically, he had enough script points to resurrect someone, Upkawa Mitsu still wouldn’t let Upkawa Chie fight to the death.

Who would willingly let a loved one risk injury and death? The answer is obvious.

You’d protect them before anything else—you wouldn’t let them get hurt.

The thousands resurrected in the battlefield? They weren’t resurrected—they were copied!

Upkawa Mitsu spent script points to copy every person who died in the battlefield—creating beings with all the memories and physical qualities of the dead, an alternative form of resurrection, yet not resurrection, because the copies, though possessing identical memories and bodies, were still different people—copies.

Like clones—they’re identical in every way, but not the original, and the difference is immense.

Compared to resurrection, copying things was far simpler for the system, avoiding eternal, unchangeable rules, and consuming far fewer script points.

He spent most of his points to obliterate a realm.

But after manifesting the Buddha’s palm that destroyed a realm, he realized it only manifested the pressure and partial power—true total annihilation was still beyond it.

Because that palm only carried the appearance and pressure of annihilation, not the actual power—it could only crush stars and overturn land. That’s why the Void Demon Palace’s Demon Lord and other greats were terrified: the palm looked and felt exactly like it would obliterate the realm, but when it finally came down, it couldn’t.

So Upkawa Mitsu finally had Cimutsubo step forward to block the palm, preventing its descent from exposing the truth.

“Yes, sir~”

A soft, sisterly voice that made any brother’s blood boil.

Rubbing her head, Upkawa Chie’s pale, adorable face held no anger—only a sweet smile, her heart warm.

No matter what, Nii-san is the best to me.

Seeing this, Upkawa Mitsu smiled and gently ruffled Upkawa Chie’s hair.

“Finish eating and go to sleep—it’s late.”

“Okay~”

…