Black Flash.
The black and red light erupted from Kashimo's fist like a cursed flower blooming in a scarlet dusk. At that sa mont, his entire reservoir of cursed energy surged toward a single point. It compressed, tightening until it reached the breaking point, and then it detonated.
The impact tore a massive hole through Shuten Doji's abdon. Purple blood and shredded organs sprayed into the golden river, sending strange ripples through the wine. The giant's massive fra stumbled back, its remaining arms flailing as it tried to find purchase on the empty air.
The ogre opened its mouth to begin the healing process, but a sudden coldness struck its neck.
A second later, the demon saw its own mangled belly. The perspective was wrong. The headless torso remained standing, blood geysering from the stump of the neck, while the demonic head spun through the air. Its pale pupils were wide with a final, lingering look of disbelief.
It was a spatial slash, a cut that had severed the very air.
Fuka stood behind the headless corpse, the Soul Split Katana in her hand and her red robes snapping in the wind. Her grip on the sword was trembling, but her smile was blindingly bright.
She flashed the look at Kashimo.
The gold began to bleed out of the world. The river of wine dissolved, the red lilies withered into dust, and the massive vats in the sky vanished into nothingness. The domain had collapsed.
As they returned to the familiar dirt of the forest, Kashimo took a deep, steadying breath. The ground was solid again, the trees were real, and the scent of blood was being carried away by the mountain breeze. He stood in the clearing, his reverse technique working slowly to nd his shredded body. Skin knit together, bones fused, and the deep, jagged wounds closed over as if they had never been.
His white robes were a ruin, hanging from his fra in tattered strips that exposed his steaming skin. Kashimo looked down at himself, then up at the moon.
He had killed the Ogre King. Next, there was only Mahoraga.
"Master... Master..."
The voice was hesitant and stuttering. Kashimo turned his head. Fuka was standing a few paces away, still clutching the katana. Her face was so red it looked like it might actually bleed. She looked as if steam were rising from her scalp, her eyes darting everywhere but at him. She would catch a glimpse of his bare torso, look away, then look back again before snapping her gaze toward the trees.
"Your clothes," she finally managed to choke out. "Look at your clothes!"
Kashimo looked down at the rags of his shirt and then back at the flustered girl. He blinked. He had forgotten she was an eighteen-year-old noblewoman. She likely hadn't seen much of the male form outside of a training yard.
"So what?" Kashimo waved a hand dismissively. He was more annoyed by his loose hair, which was matted and getting in his way.
Fuka opened her mouth to argue, but the words died in her throat.
"Since we're finished here," a voice interrupted, carrying that trademark, calm amusent.
Kenjaku stood a short distance away, his protective barrier gone. The moonlight hit his face, illuminating his permanent smile.
"I'll be taking my leave. I will uphold my end of our Binding Vow."
Kashimo didn't care where Kenjaku went. He rolled his shoulders, testing the new muscle in his chest. The heavy, lethal lethality that had been burrowing into his marrow was gone, vanishing the mont Shuten Doji died. The assimilation technique had faded into nothing.
He looked at Fuka. "Let's go."
Fuka, still dazed, blinked at him. "Go where?"
"Kyoto should have a few private baths."
Kashimo turned and started walking.
Fuka stood frozen, her face turning a shade of red that bypassed her previous record. The color spread from her cheeks to her ears and down her neck. She looked like she had just been pulled from a furnace.
A private bath? With him?
She looked down at herself. She was covered in blood, sweat, and the foul stench of the underworld. If she didn't wash, she wouldn't be able to sleep, but the idea of a shared bath was overwhelming.
"Bring the staff," Kashimo called out without looking back.
Fuka opened her mouth to object, but her mind was a complete blank. She looked at the erald staff in the dirt, then at the silhouette of the man walking away. Gritting her teeth, she snatched up the weapon and ran to catch up.
***
Lower Kyoto.
The night was deep. Only a few shops still had lanterns burning in the narrow alleys. Kashimo had wrapped himself in a blanket he'd picked up from a roadside vendor to cover his ruined clothes. Fuka followed a step behind, clutching the staff and the katana, her face still flushed.
The entrance to the bathhouse was tucked behind an inconspicuous storefront. A maid in a kimono greeted them, her gaze traveling between the two. A man wrapped in a blanket with wild hair, and a girl with a bright red face clutching a pair of legendary weapons.
The maid's lips curled into a knowing smile, as if she had seen this particular story a hundred tis before. Fuka had only ever spent ti in Edo and had never visited Kyoto, so the maid didn't recognize her as the missing princess of the Shogunate.
"This way, please."
The maid led them through a winding corridor to a wooden door at the end. "Please, enjoy yourselves."
She stepped aside, her smile widening into sothing motherly as she looked between them. Kashimo ignored her and stepped into the room.
The space was small, centered around a stone tub filled with clear, steaming water. A charcoal heater sat in the middle of the tub, keeping the water at a steady, hot temperature. Since there were no natural springs in this part of Kyoto, this was the standard way of heating a bath.
Kashimo shed the blanket and the remains of his white shirt, tossing the rags aside without a second thought. He walked to the edge of the tub.
With a splash, he sank into the water and leaned his head back against the stone, letting out a long, heavy breath. The heat rolled over his chest, soaking away the gri and the scent of the slaughter. He closed his eyes, his teal hair drifting on the surface of the water like seaweed.
Fuka stood by the door, clutching the weapons. She was as still as a statue.
"What are you standing there for?" Kashimo glanced at her over his shoulder. The steam made the purple markings on his face look even darker. "Do you need to help you wash?"
Fuka's gaze fell on his bare back. Water droplets trailed down his shoulders, shimring in the moonlight. The faint scars of his healed wounds traced silver patterns across his lean, powerful muscle. The sight made Fuka's brain completely short-circuit.
"Hey," Kashimo said. His voice wasn't loud, but it echoed in the quiet room.
Fuka flinched, finally snapping out of her trance. "I..."
Kashimo looked at her glowing face and seed to realize sothing. "It's fine," he said, his voice flat and practical. "I'm not interested in you."
If he hadn't said it, she might have stayed by the door. But the casual rejection sparked sothing in her.
Not interested? Not interested?!
Without saying another word, she let her weapons clatter to the floor. Her fingers made quick work of the sash, and her robes slid off her shoulders, pooling at her feet. She stepped out of them completely bare and slipped into the tub with a bold splash.
Hot water surged around her body as she sank in. The heat licked up her thighs, over her hips, and across her breasts, making her skin flush instantly. Steam curled around her face, but it did nothing to hide how close she now was to him.
Only a few inches separated them.
Kashimo's face was right there, sharp jawline glistening with moisture, droplets clinging to his long lashes, those striking violet-ringed eyes watching her with complete, unnerving detachnt.
Fuka's breath caught in her throat. Her heart hamred wildly against her ribs.
The water lapped gently against her bare skin, teasing her nipples into tight peaks as she tried to steady herself. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the subtle shift of his muscles beneath the surface.
Despite her impulsive courage, she suddenly realized she wasn't quite brave enough for this after all.
***
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A/n: 200 power stones = 1 bonus chapter. Don't forget to vote with your power stones!!
For early access to 15 chapters ahead: p@tre~~/Demonic_Fiction (Link is in the synopsis and my profile).
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