In the days that followed, Shinji did not remain idle. Truth be told, he couldn't afford to. The four viscera cycled within his body, Fire rising, Water descending, Metal purifying, Wood unfurling.
Yet every cycle hit the gap and bled out. Without the Spleen-Earth to complete the circle, the Five Elements remained incomplete. The internal circulation of the Shura Form would forever carry this flaw, unable to achieve perfect quality, unable to return to his true body. Fortunately, the medium he needed was close at hand.
Banryū. The colossal war-blade left behind by Bankotsu. A newborn demon artifact. Shinji hauled it out from the corner where it had been stowed. This blade was heavy. Absurdly, impossibly heavy. Before it had even become a demon artifact, it had required three fully grown, powerfully built men just to lift it.
It was, in the truest sense, heavier than 100 kg. Now, laden with accumulated grudges, yōki, and osore, it was beyond the strength of any ordinary human, or even most yōkai, to bear. This blade was also enormous. Its length nearly matched his own height. Its thickness was nearly two fingers wide. Its entire body was a pale, ghastly white. The edge was blunt and thick.
This was unmistakably not a weapon designed to cut like a normal sword, it was meant to crush. A crystallization of pure, unadulterated violence. Bankotsu had wielded it to slaughter a hundred men and a thousand demons, carving a bloody path from the Kantō all the way to the northeast.
Soaked in yōki, the mundane iron blade had gradually mutated, becoming a demon artifact fresh into this world.
For Shinji, this was clearly the optimal medium for "Earth." Because it inflicted grievous wounds through sheer weight, resonating with the heaviness of Earth. And because its very birth came through the absorption and transformation of countless impure energies and lingering grudges.
Absorption and transformation, these also belonged to Earth. But though it was already a demon artifact, Shinji still fully restored it. One could even call it a complete re-forging. From its soul to its substance, he cleansed it entirely, just as he had re-smelted Onikiri.
From the inside out, he transformed it into a new demon blade that belonged solely to him. Only its fundamental essence of power remained unchanged.
The System panel had long since flickered to life.
[Greatsword Banryū]
[Quality: Demon Artifact]
[Description: Originally a giant war-blade forged of mundane iron. Through the ritual of the Hundred-Man Slaying and the Thousand-Demon Slaying, it was soaked in human blood and yōkai blood. Having absorbed the grudges and fears of the dead, it has ascended to become a demon artifact.]
[Current Affection: 0 (Indifferent)]
Blunt and direct. Shinji pressed his palm against it and poured a surge of yōki inside.
Hum—
The blade shuddered violently. The force was so great it nearly leaped out of his hand. The System panel flickered.
[Banryū: Weakling. Get lost.]
"…"
A typical brute. But this, in turn, was precisely what suited Shinji's methods. The simpler the target, the faster the cultivation. No need for coaxing. No need to discuss its emotional journey. Just continuously infuse yōki. Demonstrate sufficient strength. Make it acknowledge him as its master. Then take it into battle.
After all, he was no weakling. What Banryū demanded was a single word: Power. And that, he possessed in abundance.
Thus, the yōki of the Shura Form surged through his palm and poured into the blade. It was the majestic, overwhelming density of a Ninth Transformation yōkai, further amplified by the three viscera of the Shura Form's projection.
In sheer volume, it nearly equaled the impure energy an ordinary demon would possess after twelve full transformations.
At this, Banryū's shuddering hesitated for a single beat. Then it fell still. It submitted. A reckless brute, but also a warrior who revered strength above all else.
[Banryū: Affection +1]
[Current Affection: 1 (Aware)]
Compared to Banryū's crude, straightforward nature, another item proved far more troublesome.
The Black Agate Pearl. The key to the underworld, crafted by Hōsenki, once sealed within Inuyasha's right eye socket. The passage to Tōga's tomb, and the coordinates to Tessaiga.
Sesshōmaru had used it to enter once, failed to draw Tessaiga, deemed it useless, and tossed it to Shinji. A pitch-black bead the size of a fingernail. Its surface was smooth and cool, gleaming with an exceedingly fine iridescent luster.
The Affection displayed on the panel was 9. From the moment Sesshōmaru had thrown it to him until now, it had barely risen. Because this thing's temperament was the exact opposite of Banryū's.
[The Black Agate Pearl expresses: Unrefined strength is not required. Please treat me with proper courtesy.]
Like nobility. Every response it gave carried an air of reserve and distance, like a young lady of a great house, seated behind a curtain, offering a slight bow to a visitor but speaking not a single superfluous word.
Infuse yōki? It refused. Osore? It would not accept it. Direct conversation? It would only reply with two words—How rude.
It took Shinji three full days to grasp its temperament. What the Black Pearl required was respect. It did not wish to be used, it wished to be placed in a position of importance. To be treated with gravity and reverence.
The moment it felt cherished, its Affection would slowly climb. This was the reason its Affection had risen so sluggishly before. Carrying it through wind and dew, roughing it on the road, how could it possibly rise quickly? Now, he placed the Black Pearl upon the offering table, beside the bronze mirror.
Every day, as he passed, he would nod to it in greeting. Like treating a guest.
Three days later.
[Black Agate Pearl: Affection +1. Current Affection: 10.]
Slow. But it was climbing. This thing could not be rushed. After all, this was a precious gem capable of opening a passage into the cleft realm of the underworld.
If he succeeded in cultivating it… the amplification it would bring to Shinji was, without a doubt, immeasurable. Perhaps he could use it to achieve a further evolution of his eyes. To see through the boundary between reality and illusion. To even reach the world between life and death.
Before that, it was also highly probable that, according to his plan, he could use it to obtain Tessaiga.
Beyond these two new artifacts requiring cultivation and constant companionship, Shinji still had a pile of "new" and "old" items on hand.
Onikiri went without saying. This blade, now a fully-fledged yōkai with its own self-awareness, was something Shinji could never set aside.
Beyond it, there were still the Cat-Demon's Claw and the Venomous Dragon Reverse Scale. These items had long since reached max Affection and could rise no further. Their abilities had already fused into Shinji himself.
But the objects themselves still remained, their fundamental spirituality still intact. Yet carrying them on his person held no further meaning, while simply leaving them to gather dust would be a waste.
Thus, Shinji enshrined them all within the hall of Kishin Mikoto-no-Mitama. His shrine. That hall with the hanging plaque, the bronze mirror, the clear water, and the ever-burning lamp.
The faith of the people of two provinces converged here day and night through the shrine's barrier network. The ghost stories of osore likewise radiated outward with this place as their core.
The intersection of these two streams of power, faith and osore, was the point in this entire land where the concentration of yōki and reiryoku was highest, and most harmonious.
To place artifacts here was like burying seeds in the most fertile of soils. Soaked in faith. Nourished by osore. Given enough time, even mundane objects could undergo metamorphosis.
Shinji placed the Cat-Demon's Claw on the left side of the offering table. The Venomous Dragon Reverse Scale, on the right.
After finishing the arrangement, Shinji gazed at the items he now carried on his person. A deep contemplation suddenly seized him.
The System panel was a dense mosaic of flickering Affection values. Onikiri—max Affection. Yomi-giri—max Affection. Banryū—Affection 1, heavy as a mountain. Three blades. And each seemed capable of corresponding to a specific visceral attribute. Onikiri—Fire, condensed from blood and flame. Yomi-giri—Metal, born from the breath of the lungs. Banryū—Earth, transformed through the slaughter of a hundred men and a thousand demons.
When manifesting the Shura Form, these three demon artifacts could, without a doubt, all be simultaneously projected and amplified. And using them as conduits, the Five Elements yōki output of the Shura viscera could be driven to its absolute maximum.
Theoretically, they could even construct an external circulation loop. They could even achieve, without reaching the Thirteenth Transformation, a domain ability akin to that of Kidōmaru, approaching the level of a phenomenon-class daiyōkai.
But at present, Shinji only possessed three elements. Three blades. And three blades clearly could not correspond to the full Five Elements. The five viscera corresponded to the Five Elements. And the Five Elements, should correspond to five artifacts.
He needed… five vessels. Five demon blades, to correspond to the Five Elements, to project them upon the Shura Form, to bring the power of the Five Elements and Five Viscera to its ultimate extreme. He was still short two corresponding demon blades… No. That was wrong. He was short one.
Raikiri, belonging to Wood, capable of serving as the "Wood Blade." It was still undergoing its metamorphosis even now. But if it successfully transformed into a complete divine artifact, it would absolutely suffice. By that calculation, he was missing only a single blade. A Water Blade.
A new line of thought surged forth. A new plan crystallized in tandem. He resolved, using the materials at hand, after his five viscera were fully complete, to forge the fifth demon blade.
When that time came, the Tenth Transformation would be achieved. The Eleventh Transformation's Three Souls would follow immediately after. And then, the Twelfth Transformation. All united as one. Once he came alive, what he would possess would perhaps not merely be the perfect quality of the Twelfth Transformation.
It would be combat power infinitely approaching, or even rivaling, the level of an ordinary daiyōkai. From demon to ma. From death to life. The path was now so clear it could not possibly be any clearer. He only needed time. And more exploration. More research.
Amidst all this, Yura's comb. That max-Affection comb hung at his waist, the necklace of seven stones chiming softly. Ever since her manifested form had been frightened back into the comb by Kikyō's reiryoku, she had become considerably more subdued. Every now and then, she would tremble faintly and transmit a few words.
[Sakasagami no Yura: I'm not afraid of her.]
Shinji ignored her.
He then reached out and retrieved the final item from the hidden compartment of the offering table. The Tahōtō Miko Prayer Beads. Tsubaki's memento. Kikyō had purified the residual grudges within them long ago.
They had sat empty ever since. It was a string of dark brown wooden beads. The grain on the beads had been worn blurry by the erosion of sun and moon. But deep within the core of every bead, there still remained an exceedingly faint trace, the scent of curses.
Tsubaki had been a demon slayer. She had also been a miko. But the path she had walked at the end was the polar opposite of Kikyō's. Kikyō used reiryoku to purify, protect, and destroy evil. Tsubaki used curses to maledict, control, and bind. Two paths. Two faces of a single coin. And this string of prayer beads was the core ritual artifact Tsubaki had used to cast her curses in life.
The System panel flickered with information.
[Tahōtō Miko Prayer Beads]
[Quality: Demon Artifact]
[Evaluation: They once belonged to a prodigiously talented miko who walked a crooked path. But ritual artifacts themselves are neither good nor evil. They simply recorded faithfully the traces of their mistress's reiryoku throughout her lifetime. Though Tsubaki's reiryoku has long since dispersed, the foundation and lingering fragments of will she accumulated within these beads still remain. If you can awaken them, they will become a fine tool of curses.]
[Current Affection: 0]
Curses. The dark face of a miko's power, unlike purification, which specialized against demons and monsters. A power specifically designed to be used against humans.
Shinji wrapped the prayer beads around his left wrist. Yōki seeped into the first bead.
Hum.
An exceedingly faint vibration. Like something that had slumbered for a very long time turning over in its sleep.
[Tahōtō Miko Prayer Beads: Affection +1. Current Affection: 1.]
Another beginning.
He withdrew his hand and stepped out of the shrine hall.
The moonlight was just right.
Kikyō's reiryoku presence emanated from the direction of the main hall, even, steady. She was, as always, sleeping deeply. Soundly. At peace. Because Shinji was here.
He stood beneath the eaves for a long moment. His crimson demon eyes reflected the moonlight. The corner of his lips carried an exceedingly faint curve.
Then, carefully, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. He looked at Kikyō, lost in deep slumber, and couldn't help but feel a swell of anticipation.