Blood.
The smell hit Chikane's nostrils, cutting through the scent of the coming storm and the pines like a sword-stroke. It came from the open door of the priest's hut. She had an arrow nocked, its point glowing faintly with the power she'd infused in it, before she took her first steps inside. All her senses, natural as well as supernatural, were awake to their fullest extent; a footfall, a rush of air, or a gathering of power alike would catch her attention.
None of those things came. There was only the corpse of the frail old man Yanagii, thrown down amid his simple possessions like a jumble of broken sticks. He'd been no threat to anyone, but it seemed that the Orochi had wanted no witnesses.
They're here, then, Chikane thought as she lowered her bow and released the tension on the string. Reverend Ohgami wasn't mistaken. This was not an old crime left undiscovered; the blood was still fresh.
I'm glad that Himeko didn't have to see this.
Her twin hadn't been happy about Chikane going out to face the Orochi alone, nor in Chikane's insistence that she stay within the bounds of Ohgami Shrine. If Chikane failed, the shrine's wards would be no protection, but even if the god was not unsealed there were eight Orochi and some might come for Himeko while others attempted the unsealing. In that case, the shrine's barriers and the powers of the Ohgamis might be significant. In any case, it was the best protection Chikane could think of besides her own sword.
A sword that had other work to accomplish tonight.
The rising surge of dark power dragged her attention away from her concerns. The Orochi were here, now. Nothing else mattered. Chikane left the hut and followed the greater darkness through the shadows, a trail as plain as if it had been blazed on the ground. It led right to the clearing containing the small shrine, where a man stood, his back to Chikane, long dark hair spilling past the collar of his black T-shirt. Shadows seemed to surround him, gathering at his command. Thunder rumbled from above as if answering her summoning.
One shot, Chikane thought, drawing her bow. He has no idea that I'm here. One shot will end this..
And then what?
It would certainly accomplish her goal. The unsealing would be stopped. But the Neck would surely live. Even if slain by her arrow, his body would be restored by his god. She would win a tactical victory, but a strategic stalemate.
Again she lowered her bow.
The brand on her back burned white-hot as she summoned its power instead, and prepared to stain her hands bloody once again.
-X X X-
Hirata flinched as he felt the sudden surge of power from behind him. He hated being the bait, the one who had to stand out and exposed, but the Eighth was right in one thing: his Shadow was better suited for a straight-up fight than Yokusemi no Mizuchi. So he'd accepted the role.
It didn't mean that he had to like it.
He spun as the light of the Lunar Priestess rose, calling on his own Shadow's power. If he could strike before her--
"May the moon's light capture this place within its radiance!"
The pale gold of moonlight washed over them, bathing the circle of the shrine clearing in an eerie luminescence that seemed to come from no source, but emanated from the air itself. Hirata felt the barrier raise, the shifting of the area into an enclosed space.
He was trapped inside. With the Lunar Priestess.
The Eighth Neck was equally trapped outside, away from the fight.
Thunder roared again, piercing the unnatural moonglow with a brilliant white flash for the barest instant, and the promised deluge began.
-X X X-
Got you! Chikane enthused as she felt her barrier settle into place. Now that her full powers had returned the effect was much stronger, but it was the same magic she had invoked when fleeing from Reiko's first attack three days ago. Unless the barrier was broken by her own will or, more likely, by pure force, no person could enter or leave, including through teleportation. There would be no retreat for this Orochi. He would have to beat her or die.
He'd spun to face her as soon as she raised the barrier. There was shock in his gaze, the sudden fear as the situation was wrested from his control. Then a change seemed to settle over him, his mouth setting itself into a line. He'd accepted the facts.
"Just you and I, then," he stated, then shrugged, apparently having nothing else to say. That was fine by Chikane, who had nothing to say to this unknown man, either.
He summoned his power then--or, more accurately, turned the power he'd already summoned to a purpose. The darkness settled across his face, deepening into a Shadow. In the next instant it was there, a jet-black false face covering his own. The Shadow seemed streaked with blue marks, and the features were twisted like an actor's passion-mask expressing inutterable sorrow, shedding painted tears down the cheeks. The form of the Shadow was unexpected, and it made Chikane hesitate for just an instant, leaving her off-guard when the onyx lips exhaled a stream of freezing shards at her.
There was no time to defend herself; she could only fling her body to one side. She felt the cold of the blast, and the stinging ice blades cut at her vestments, plucked at sleeves and cuffs, one edge even slicing thinly along her right cheek. Chikane felt the sting of it, worried at first, but recognized in the next instant that the wound was superficial, nothing that would hamper her in combat.
She was much more concerned with the attack that had been sent against her. The mask, the icy breath; these weren't attributes ordinarily associated with the Eighth Neck, or its Orochi god. Rather, it seemed more like...
Ho no Shuraizuchi, she thought, the memories snapping into place. Which means that this is the Fifth Neck, not the Eighth!
Another frozen breath whipped towards her, and she rolled away from it across grass already starting to become wet from the downpour. That was twice now that the identity of her enemy had let him catch her off-balance, mistakes she couldn't afford to be making.
I can't worry about how he came to be here right now! If I don't win the battle the larger picture won't matter.
Chikane got to her feet. Though her bow had somehow stayed intact even when she'd rolled her weight across it, most of her arrows had spilled out of the quiver during her acrobatics. Besides that, trading ranged fire with a Neck whose god was well-suited for such a battle was a foolish tactic. Steel seemed to ring as she drew her sword. She needed to bring the fight close, where she could control the ground.
The Orochi seemed to recognize this, and launched another strike. She ran diagonally, her steps light and quick, dodging as well as approaching at the same time. He sprang backwards, his feet landing on top of the small shrine. She was surprised that it held his weight, as decrepit as it was, then realized that the seal must be sustaining its physical structure. Chikane charged, all the while anticipating the next attack, but when it came it was different than she expected.
The image of the Shadow-mask changed, the features twisting from sorrow and despair into anger while the blue markings turned to a bright orange-red. What sprayed from its lips was not ice, but a raging gout of flame. It tore through the pouring rain towards Chikane, raising clouds of steam in its wake. Chikane channeled her power through her sword, deflecting the energies of the attack so that the fire sprayed to either side of her. The heat washed across her as the flames passed, and in those places where it touched the ground, grass was momentarily set alight before wind and rain snuffed the fire.
The Fifth Neck breathed out flame again, this time in a lashing coil that struck at her like a whip. Chikane sprang aside before the fiery breath could touch her, but it gave the Orochi time to react to her movements by going in the opposite direction, widening the gap between them.
Chikane wished she had the ability to fight fire with fire, to project her power directly as the Fifth Neck could, but the Lunar Priestess's abilities didn't work that way. She needed to channel her force into her weapons. Perhaps he wasn't a fighter--he certainly didn't move like one--but he was adept enough at using his power to keep her at bay. Eventually, if that kept up, her barrier would fade and he could escape.
I can't let that happen. Without the power that should be Himeko's alongside hers, their side was crippled. An awakened Orochi, even one, would be too much. She had to whittle down their numbers at any opportunity.
Sword in hand, she charged the Neck again. Fire struck once more, and she deflected it, then lunged strongly to one side in a feint. The Orochi reacted, bolting the other way, only to find Chikane had reversed her momentum and he was heading towards her instead of away. She lunged, slicing through his shirt and drawing a long slash across his chest, but no more.
So close!
Thunder roared and the Shadow changed its mask again, blasting Chikane at almost point-blank range. There was no way it could miss; the ice storm launching her off her feet, the larger chunks slashing and piercing her. The Lunar Priestess's sigil burned at her back, and she realized she'd reflexively shielded herself through her vestments or else she'd be dead.
This wasn't working.
-X X X-
Damn it! Hirata thought as he scrambled back. She almost had me! His rain-soaked clothing clung to him, weighed him down like chains. Coming to grips with her would get him killed, yet he was barely holding her off. The wound was superficial, inflicting little more than pain and nothing that his regenerative abilities couldn't take care of in minutes. What mattered was the symbol. The sting across his chest was an emblem of her ability to reach him, to injure him.
A mark of fear.
But Hirata was a Neck of Orochi, and what was that, anyway, but fear distilled to its most primal form? Fear of failure, fear of misery, fear of suffering, turned to hate of those who inflicted those things. Hatred and anger that burned up white-hot, turning fear outward against its object.
The Shadow of Ho no Shuraizuchi breathed out another torrent of searing flame.
-X X X-
Chikane flung herself back as fire swept across the grass at her feet. A low attack like that tempted her to try leaping over it to strike, but she resisted the urge, knowing that it would leave her vulnerable. She swept her arm across her face, wiping the streaming rain out of her eyes.
It had been so much easier to deal with Reiko. She'd brought the fight to Chikane on her own ground, sword to sword, where Chikane had used her skill to master her. Likewise, Reiko had been psychologically vulnerable in ways this Orochi, with no personal tie, was not.
Another firebolt came at her; she struck it aside but was halted again in her attempt to advance.
Himeko would be so worried if she was watching this. Chikane remembered the next-to-last thing her sister had said before she'd left: Chikane, please be careful. It was so like Himeko, a plain, even trite statement yet meant from the heart, as much as the "I love you" that had followed. It was maddening that after all they'd been through, Chikane was fighting alone again.
Alone.
She winced, not from the battering and injuries she'd received, but at her own stupidity.
Please be careful.
Careful? That was a bad joke. She wasn't using care at all, not in either sense of the word: not protecting herself and not properly using her wits for the fight itself.
Because it doesn't matter. If I lose Himeko...
Stupid!
Rain pelted her, as if the heavens themselves were punishing her for her shortsightedness, her despair.
"Do you think I'll let you win?" she said aloud, bitter tears mingling with the water streaming down her face. "Regardless of what happens to me, do you think I'll let you destroy her? Carry her soul down to oblivion with the rest of the world?"
Did the Orochi understand her? Did her words hold any meaning for him at all? The rigid features of his mask gave away nothing.
It didn't matter. She wasn't talking to him, anyway. She meant it for herself, and if anyone else for Yamata no Orochi itself. The pure will of hate and despair.
If she isn't the Solar Priestess...if I lose her it will damn me. She'd been fighting that realization, hiding from it, trying to deny it, doing anything but facing it until tonight. Fear was the Orochi's weapon, and fear of the truth had destroyed her clear sight.
The Orochi tried another firebolt and Chikane angrily slapped it aside, so that the attack actually crashed against the barrier. But the gesture made the Fifth Neck flinch in surprise.
"Maybe I have nothing," she said, her emotions again demanding to be heard aloud. "Maybe after the things I've done these few years of happiness are more than I deserve. But even if that's true, I will build a world where Himeko can at least find a new happiness of her own!"
She slammed the Lunar Blade back into its sheath.
-X X X-
It didn't make sense, Hirata thought. She'd sheathed her sword? Why? And what had she been talking about? Who was Himeko, anyway? The sister that they'd thought might be the Solar Priestess?
Something had changed, and he didn't understand it. But if she was going to abandon her defense against his attacks, he knew the correct response.
-X X X-
Another burning coil of fire shot towards Chikane, but she was already in motion, turning and dodging left. The slick grass made for desperate footing, but the Lunar Priestess's steps were sure, as if her renewed sense of purpose gave her movements equal clarity and precision. As first one bolt, then a second struck behind her feet, she snatched her bow off her back, then dove behind the small shrine that was the focus of it all. The third fiery breath struck the shrine, and the seal reacted to the assault on it, shining golden-bright. The Neck was knocked sprawling by the reflected damage, and Chikane came up from behind cover.
Skilled as she was at kyujutsu, Chikane was simply unable to exchange ranged fire with an Orochi that could launch attacks by an act of will alone.
So she'd used the terrain to her advantage.
The point of the released arrow was agleam with moonlight as it shot towards the Neck. As he raised his head, dizzy from the impact, the arrow struck home in the mask, piercing the shadow-construct and disincorporating it just as had happened to the Sixth Neck's Shadow in their earlier battle. His face stood revealed, thin and angular in a way that would have been handsome if it wasn't for the blunt, strong chin. His eyes were wide in fear as she loosed the second arrow, but he moved, rolling, terror and the enhanced power of the Orochi combining to give him speed enough to move. The arrow's point snipped strands of his hair as he dodged, but it thudded into the ground rather than his body.
Was it intellect or instinct that made him come to his feet and launch himself at her, Chikane wondered? Without his Shadow, he was no more than a target at long range for her; he had to close in. She fired her last arrow as he jumped; it took him in the thigh and he grunted in pain. Chikane spun out of his way, dropping her bow, as his flying tackle missed. His jump had been further and faster than an ordinary person's; she recalled from how the Sixth Neck had been able to wield some of her own power personally even while Izuhara no Tamazuchi had been dispelled.
Tsuki no miko no tachi hissed from its sheath. The Neck pushed himself up on one arm and his good leg, moving fast, his other hand lunging in for her throat. She held back for a second, letting him get his hand on her and so locking his body in place with respect to hers. Even as he started to exert pressure, Chikane slashed, the holy sword tearing into flesh. Blood spurted as ribs and breastbone shattered and the Orochi's heart was cleaved in two.
His grip slackened, and he fell to the ground. Thunder roared again, seeming to herald his defeat.
Chikane took several deep breaths, reassuring herself that she hadn't taken any serious injury. A few bruises and cuts, but nothing else. The weather probably posed more of a risk than her injuries did. She cleaned the sword of blood and sheathed it, then collected her bow and arrows. The police finding evidence that would link her to this man's death would not be a particular obstacle, but it would be inconvenient. There was no point in attracting further complications.
Speaking of complications...
She'd come to fight the Eighth Neck, and had instead discovered the Fifth. Reverend Ohgami had been confident of his and his sister's reasoning, and it had apparently been borne out: the shrine here did seal an Orochi god, and there had been a Neck present doing something, but it was the wrong Neck. Why? Had the Ohgamis been wrong in their research? Or was it the Orochi who lacked information?
In Chikane's previous life, her grandfather had used his influence as head of the Himemiya to assemble the potential Orochi as part of his plan to use the dark god's power to remake the world. They'd known about their destiny, about the power of Orochi and the role of the priestesses. Tsubasa and Miyako's charisma on one side and the Himemiya authority on the other had made them an organized force, broken only by Souma Ohgami's rebellion and Chikane's deception, both spawned from their love for Himeko. She no longer had an insider's perspective, but this cycle's Orochi seemed less organized, without that guidance or knowledge. Did they simply not know what they were doing?
Or was there more to it?
At the very least, there's one less of them now, she thought. As for the rest, it was something that bore investigation. Chikane only wished that she had a way to insure that she'd find the answer, because she had a suspicion that she wouldn't like it if the answers found her.
-X X X-
The Eighth Neck remained still and silent within the shadows as the Lunar Priestess lowered the barrier. It was entirely possible that any active use of the Orochi's power could alert the girl, and that would ruin everything. The priestess looked around carefully as she left the clearing, but the driving rain obscured sight and the drumbeat of the drops on earth and trees drowned out sound. There was nothing to be seen, and so she passed on. In a few minutes, the Neck heard the echo of a car engine starting, and Tsukuyo-who'd-been-Chikane left the field of battle, never suspecting that she'd merely played a part.
It was a shame to lose Hirata so early. He'd been of immense use, spying on the other Orochi, letting the Eighth know of the personality clashes within the group as well as their halting attempts to seize their destiny. But a pawn was a pawn, and sometimes it was necessary to make sacrifices. The only requirement was that one received sufficient value in return.
In this, the Eighth Neck had not been cheated.
The clouds covering the moon and the pounding rain made the night as black as pitch, but the hawk's eyes of Yokusemi no Mizuchi were unnaturally keen. Hirata had spoken truly when he said that the Orochi gods were suited to the nature of their Necks; it was the Eighth's place to wait patiently, always watching, and then strike from out of nowhere as a diving raptor would take its prey, in a thunderous, devastating instant. In these circumstances, watching the fight had delivered the Eighth's prize.
Hirata had lost his life, but he had accomplished his mission. Twice, his Shadow's icy breath had drawn the priestess's blood. Guided by the vision of the hawk, the Eighth Neck walked unerringly to a single spot, and plucked a handful of grass upon which crimson drops had spattered.
Turning, the Eighth approached the shrine. Drawing upon the power of Orochi caused the seal to manifest itself as Reiko and Kei had seen it before: a cloud of seething darkness calling out to be free, to ravage and destroy, held back only by a wispy aura of golden light.
"Your time is past," the Orochi told the seal as if it was a living thing--and perhaps it was, for were there not kami in all things of such significance?
"Yokusemi no Mizuchi!
"Wings born of darkness!
"Bear me aloft, that I may rain
"Damnation upon this world
"That cries out for its end!
"Eighth God of Orochi;
"Be revived!"
With the last word, the Orochi thrust the bloodstained grass against the golden veil. Thunder roared without lightning, and the seal shattered like glass bursting into thousands of fragments. The physical shrine exploded, torn apart by the devastating force surging out from within. The Eighth screamed with the power of the remembered god; violet lightning embraced the Neck like a lover, and the keening scream of the true Yokusemi no Mizuchi blended with the storm.
The Neck dropped to one knee in a parody of reverence, driven not by awe of the divine but by a shuddering weakness that was left in the wake of the fusion of a human soul with the demonic god. It would have been easy for a person's will to be broken by such a joining. Others had been in the past. The secret lay not in fighting the Orochi nature for mastery, which would eventually shatter the Neck, but in accepting the part of one's self that called to the darkness. It was by doing so, paradoxically, that one achieved ascendance over the Orochi: by submitting to it, one's own will rose dominant.
Yes, decided the Eighth, savoring the influx of enormous power, things were going precisely as expected.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A/N: Another one of the growing list of anime/manga differences raised its head this chapter. In Episode 9 of the anime, Chikane fights the various Necks and turns Girochi, Miyako, Corona, Reiko, and Nekoko to stone. We see her specifically stab Girochi, choke Miyako, and slash Tsubasa in their Orochi brands, strongly suggesting that this is their weak points. In the manga, the Orochi don't have brands like the priestesses do, and the way of destroying them is different. As Reiko notes on p. 96: "Hmm. Seems if you and your god are killed simultaneously, neither will regenerate." Not that this difference means much to the five Necks that she takes down, it's their choice between being statues or corpses...(though in the manga they do manage to inflict the injuries on Chikane that eventually kill her, since manga Himeko refuses to even draw her sword against Chikane...).
The Eighth Neck's thoughts in the final scene of this chapter about will mastering the lesser Orochi gods are inspired by the exchange between Souma and Tsubasa on pp. 115-116. As Tsubasa puts it, "Not a single one of us has ever been manipulated by the blood within us. All the true chosen of Orochi have accepted its darkness--accepted and controlled." Only Souma ever tried to explicitly reject the darkness of Orochi, and so therefore only he ever suffered its curse. Not even Chikane, who schemed to ultimately destroy Yamata no Orochi forever, had to wrestle with the will of the god or fight off its curse, because she accepted her own darkness (Himeko would argue that she accepted too much of it...). Souma, on the other hand, did not acknowledge things like, "My mother abandoned me through death, and my father was a monster who abused my brother and myself," or "My brother protected me by committing patricide and plunging himself into the hell of prison and life as a career criminal," or "I'm risking my life and putting my very soul in jeopardy to protect a girl whom I love but who not only doesn't love me back but is part of an Epic Romance spanning multiple lifetimes with another girl," and as such his will has to fight to maintain control of himself and his body is wracked by Orochi's curse...
The Orochi seal-breaking ritual in this chapter is original, not drawn from any source.
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