Though her attack was swift enough to leave a black distortion in the intervening space, Caulifla’s pupils shrank to the size of pinholes when Sōjōbō used his free hand to casually intercept her kick.
Snorting through his long nose, Sōjōbō’s expression became even sterner than usual as he said, “Not bad, monkey brat. This kick was worth at least three hundred Tengu. Unfortunately for you, this form possesses the strength of one thou-”
Before Sōjōbō could finish lecturing Caulifla, a fist larger than his face impacted him from the left as Kale shouted, “Take your filthy hands off my Aneue…!”
Though Sōjōbō had raised the hand Caulifla ensnared with her tail to try and intercept Kale’s attack, the force behind the blow greatly exceeded his expectations. If not for Caulifla’s timely release, she would have been sent flying along with him as he smashed into the forest below with enough force to create a mushroom cloud more than ten thousand meters in height…
Smacking the back of Kale’s head before she could go on a rampage, Caulifla’s expression revealed a moderate amount of frustration as she asked, “What do you think you’re doing? I can easily beat this old bastard without your help.”
Rubbing the back of her head, Kale, despite towering over Caulifla, appeared to shrink as she bashfully replied, “Sorry, Ane-san…I just don’t like it when men touch you…”
Rolling her eyes, Caulifla resisted the urge to point out that Kale didn’t seem to mind when it was Vahn doing the touching. Instead, she waved off the half-giantess, saying, “Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t worry. Now that I know he isn’t a small fry, I’ll stop playing around…”
Punctuating her words, vibrant golden electricity flashed across Caulifla’s body as a thick layer of short golden hair began to spread along her arms, back, sides and shoulders. When it was done spreading, the only part of her body uncovered by golden hair was her face, the front of her neck, breasts, and abs. Even her legs and butt were covered in a dense layer of short hair, but, due to her baggy pants, the audience wasn’t privy to this fact…
Exhaling a plume of steam, the fur covering Caulifla’s body gained a platinum, almost silvery hue as the color of her eyes shifted from a beautiful, emerald green to shimmering pearl. At the same time, the temperature of her body increased far beyond the limit of most biological organisms. It couldn’t compare to the flames of a Phoenix or a Sun God, but, even from hundreds of meters away, metals would become white-hot in Caulifla’s current state.
“Ane-san…”
Raising her hand before Kale could try to stop her, a feral grin developed across Caulifla’s face as she said, “I trained my ass in preparation for this little game. It’s time to show the world what we Saiyans are made of.”
Understanding the futility of trying to talk her aneue out of a fight, Kale simply nodded her head before pulling away to give Caulifla some space. At nearly the exact same moment, the ground below erupted like a supervolcano, ethereal purple flames ascending towards the heavens like the pillars of a massive demon’s claw as Sōjōbō emerged with Khakkhara, Buddhist Ring Staff, in hand.
Though Tengu were masters of martial arts, their true prowess lay in their supernatural spellcasting abilities. Sōjōbō, in particular, was famous for his training of the legendary samurai, Minamoto-no-Yoshitsune, then known as Ushiwaka-maru, in the arts of swordsmanship, tactics, and magic.
“Taste my staff, you upstart…!”
Sweeping said staff forward, the pillars of ethereal purple flames spiraled towards Caulifla at a terrifying speed. Instead of finding their mark, however, a pulse of silver energy erupted from Caulifla’s body as she leaned forward in the prelude to a charging motion. The fire that had been barreling towards her acted as if it had struck an invisible shield, but, rather than a physical barrier, the thing keeping them at bay was raw, unadulterated willpower.
“Grit your teeth, you old fart…!”
Hearing Caulifla’s words sound directly in his mind, Sōjōbō’s eyes widened as pitch-black wings unfurled from his back. He also attempted to teleport away, but, the moment he appeared at his destination, Caulifla was already there waiting for him, arm drawn back in the most telegraphed punch he had ever seen.
Unfortunately, while he was able to follow the punch as if it was thrown in slow motion, Sōjōbō felt as though his entire body was being pressed upon by a series of mountains. Purple lightning began to erupt from his body, but, even though it was much faster than actual lightning, it appeared to be spreading away from him at a rate comparable to the formation of a stalagmite. It felt like it would take years for the lightning to spread from his body and reach Caulifla. Long before then, the latter landed a punch so devastating that Sōjōbō’s very next memory was waking up outside of the Game Board…
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Feeling a tremor spread through his throne/control room despite the fact it was located more than 4,000km beneath the surface, a sharp-toothed smile spread across the face of a paradoxically lanky yet muscular man with fiery red hair.
Noticing the man’s smile, the hundreds of demonic-looking entities surrounding him immediately ceased enjoying their feast. At the same time, the androgynous figure seated atop their lap, an Oni with long white hair, ruby-red horns, and a veil reminiscent of a bride playfully remarked, “It would appear Lord Sōjōbō either underestimated his opponent or greatly overestimated his capabilities…”
Nodding his head in approval, the fiery-haired man shifted his attention to seven similarly dressed figures seated near the far end of a massive banquet table. These were the remaining Lords of the Tengu, ancient and proud individuals who had boasted Tengu superiority when Sōjōbō volunteered to repel the enemies on his own.
Tensing under the gaze of their Lord and Master, the eldest of the remaining Tengu Lords, Tarōbō of Atago, nervously stroked his stomach-length beard, asserting, “The assailants must have used some sneaky or underhanded method. Lord Sōjōbō would not have been defeated in a fair contest…”
Hearing the elderly Daitengu speak of sneaky methods and fair contests, many of the surrounding demons and yokai rolled the varying number of eyes. Promotional Gift Games were practically War, so, while certain individuals ran around purporting themselves as noble and honorable warriors, the majority of participants used whatever methods available to secure victory. This was especially true among the members of Onigashima, as, with few exceptions, each and every one of them was some kind of demonic entity.
Without a word, the fiery-haired man extended his free hand towards the increasingly tense group of Tengu. In response, those furthest attempted to flee, but, before they could fully rise from their seats, their expressions scrunched into prune red and purple caricatures before their entire bodies were crushed into meat paste.
Extricating his remaining hand from the blood-red yukata of his companion, the fiery-haired man waited for the white-haired Oni to alight from his lap before rising to his feet and stating, “Though being weak is not a sin, making excuses for your weakness is. If you do not have the courage to join me in this battle, save me the effort and kill yourselves. Those of you who wish to frolic in the blood and entrails of our enemies, follow me.”
As a blood-red mist began to ooze from the remarkably tall man’s feet, the Yokai gathered around the table began to grow restless. They knew exactly what it meant for the man to take the lead, so, after a moment of indescribable tensions, one of the Yokai seated closest to the throne exclaimed, “Hyakki Yakō! Lord Shuten is on the move…!” in a ferocious, guttural tone.
While several other Yokai began chanting the phrase Hyakki Yakō in turn, the fiery-haired man, better known as Shuten-Doji, began marching forward without paying them any mind. The white-haired Oni from before, Ibaraki-Doji, immediately fell into step next to him while each of the Yokai seated around the table adopted their most ghastly forms. The Hyakki Yakō, translating to ‘Night Parade of One Hundred Demons’ was one of the most infamous events in Japanese mythos. It was also a unique Gift Game that Shuten could trigger whenever he pleased.
Others may have gathered for the game to better their standing in the Little Garden. In Shuten’s mind, the only thing that mattered was spreading bloodshed and fear. He wasn’t regarded as the most famous of the Three Most Evil Yokai of Japan for naught. He may prefer to just lounge about and engage in debauchery, but, once his lust for battle had been triggered, rivers ran red with the blood of his enemies, allies, and everything that dared to cross his path. For this reason, each of the Yokai making up the Hyakki Yakō made doubly sure to follow ‘behind’ him…
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After searching the surrounding forests and finding no trace of any enemies, Musashi ventured beyond the concealing mist until she reached one of the temple-like structures housing a lesser teleportation nexi. These were used to facilitate transfer to other planets, and, more importantly, the control room of each planet.
Noticing that the only person guarding the incredibly important structure was a young man with raven-black hair that neatly framed his face, Musashi elected to cancel her State of Nothingness a few meters away from his position. This caused the apparently sleeping individual to open his eyes, a surprised expression appearing on his face before he promptly adopted an appreciative smile and said, “My, you’re quite beautiful.”
Shouldering a katana most people couldn’t even perceive before it came to rest, Musashi adopted a smile of her own as she rebutted, “I’m well aware. Now, are you gonna introduce yourself, or is my first opponent in the Divine Realm destined to be some nameless ronin?”
Though others may have been distracted by Musashi’s pert and perfectly shaped breasts, the clear black eyes of the youthful samurai were focused entirely on the sword in her hand. At a glance, he almost resembled a youth that had just laid eyes on his childhood crush in a bikini. Thus, for a very brief moment, he failed to even process Musashi’s words until she lowered her relatively plain but masterfully crafted katana and mused, “Nameless it is…”
Faster than even the hypersensitive, faster than light cameras guided by the Casters, Musashi swept her sword in a simple yet immutable arc. The motion gave off the impression that it simply couldn’t be stopped, so, rather than trying, the smiling youth appeared to manifest in multiple places, a total of ninety-three versions of him appearing simultaneously. Eighty-seven of these were bifurcated at the waist while six were only partially cut through. This left only a single version of the young man intact, the smile on his face growing wider as he remarked, “The person wielding you is also quite phenomenal, isn’t she…?”
Hearing the man’s words, Musashi realized his original compliment had been directed towards her sword. Unable to contain herself, she immediately burst into laughter, hand cupping her exposed abdomen as she chortled uncontrollably. In response, the youth simply scratched the back of his head, politely waiting until she had gotten herself under control before offering a courteous bow and saying, “My name is Sasaki Kojiro. May I have the honor of hearing your name?”
Not expecting to hear the name of her former rival from the young man’s mouth, Musashi’s body tensed ever so slightly as a mixture of fear and expectation spread through her body. The color of her eyes immediately shifted like a kaleidoscope, but, rather than attacking as her instincts told her to, she habitually activated a lesser State of Nothingness, a mask of calm developing across her face as she replied, “Miyamoto Musashi…”
Similar to Musashi, Kojiro’s body immediately tensed when he heard her introduction. In the very next instant, however, a sword that was longer than he was tall appeared in his hand as the two unleashed an attack that caused even the immaterial ‘camera’ viewing them to be sliced in half…
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(A/N: Alternate Titles: ‘How ominous (O w O)…’,’Every female reader when they read the scene with Shuten and Ibaraki: *leans forward*’,’Some fates are stronger than others xD…’)
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