Th-that man… and the mountain god…?" The villagers exchanged anxious glances, dread growing in their hearts.
That noble hadn't come down. Could he have been killed by the mountain god?
What were they supposed to tell the noble family when someone came to investigate?
But just as they were thinking that, several figures emerged from the path, walking down the mountain.
The young woman, still in her bridal attire, was being carried by the beast—wrapped lazily in its tail—then casually tossed in front of the elderly woman the villagers had also tied up earlier.
The white-haired figure stood there nonchalantly, and somehow even the scorched wasteland behind him looked like a regal palace.
"Alright. That mountain god's dead. You can go pick a new mountain to worship next time," he said, waving his hand, his tone idle and dismissive.
But his words sent a wave of shock through the crowd.
The mountain god… is dead?!!
"Stop mistaking yokai for gods. Instead of worshiping some useless little monster, you might as well worship me," the white-haired figure added calmly.
The statement was pure blasphemy. Even if he was a noble, how could he dare say such a thing—implying he was more worthy of worship than a god?
If a real god heard this, surely they wouldn't be pleased.
"You…" one villager began hesitantly, wanting to object—but suddenly met the man's eyes, those dark red eyes—and saw…
Beneath those red eyes—another pair of crimson pupils slowly opened.
As the thick black smoke rose behind him, both pairs of red eyes gleamed like those of a beast in the night.
"A yokai—!" someone screamed, stumbling backward in terror. He tripped over a rock, fell hard to the ground, and passed out on the spot.
"So strange…" Cyr murmured, covering the lower half of his face with his hand. But on the back of his hand… a mouth had formed.
"You worship real yokai as mountain gods, yet something like me makes you scream in terror?" The mouth on the back of his hand looked far more sinister and domineering than Cyr's actual one.
And far more terrifying.
"Y-you… we…" The villagers who were still conscious couldn't even form a full sentence.
"So boring," Cyr muttered, lowering his hand.
He now looked completely normal again, as if nothing had happened.
And honestly? He thought he looked pretty damn cool. So stylish, too.
They really had no taste.
If even he—with his dashing looks—was mistaken for a monster, then beings like Sukuna with four arms and extra eyes probably never stood a chance of being seen as human.
No wonder that guy gave up and decided to just start eating people instead. Ha—kind of dark, huh?
"Let's go." Cyr waved a hand to signal the others and set off with Maro and Sora in tow.
They continued on toward the nearest city.
Behind them, the elderly woman knelt with her daughter, kowtowing in gratitude as they departed.
Casual and leisurely, as though they were out for a stroll, they ran into quite a few minor yokai along the way.
The type that fled the moment they sensed Cyr's presence from a few dozen meters away.
He didn't even bother chasing them.
To Cyr's eyes, the so-called "cities" of ancient Japan… were honestly pretty primitive.
Not much different from the villages, really—not even close to the level of Meteor Street.
If anything, the living conditions in this world had taken a nosedive.
There were guards stationed at the city gates, checking everyone who passed. But someone like Cyr, a nameless wanderer with no papers, wouldn't use the front entrance anyway.
Besides, there wasn't even a proper wall—he could go around it from anywhere.
They entered the city effortlessly, passing through residential areas on their way to the largest, most lavish building in sight.
It was still daytime. Vendors lined the streets, selling handmade trinkets and street food.
Cyr gave the stalls a glance but felt no urge to buy anything.
In a time where even basic spices were scarce, what decent street food could they possibly offer?
Sugar alone was a rare luxury.
They eventually arrived at the city lord's mansion. Thinking it best to ask for directions politely, Cyr refrained from climbing over the walls and instead had Maro knock on the gate.
The door was opened by a man dressed like a samurai, sword at his waist and hair tied in a high ponytail—looking every bit the background character from some anime.
"…What business brings you here, my lord?" the samurai asked with a beaming, enthusiastic smile, eyeing the group: two people and a large beast.
If they could afford to keep such a fearsome creature, wear such fine clothes, and looked so refined—even the servant was fair-skinned and well-groomed—then they were clearly from a wealthy family.
The white-haired boy with dark markings on his face was obviously the master. Though the markings were strange, and his white hair and red eyes—
At first glance… he looked a bit like a yokai.
But showing up in broad daylight and even knocking politely? He probably wasn't a yokai.
"We're here to have a chat with your city lord," the white-haired figure said nonchalantly.
"This way, please…" The samurai hesitated, then opened the gate and led them inside.
"Please rest here a moment. I'll inform the lord." He showed Cyr and the others into a room before leaving.
About fifteen minutes later, Cyr met the so-called city lord.
The man… well, he looked like a person, nothing more. He wore a more refined version of a samurai uniform and carried a stern, serious air.
"May I ask your name?" he inquired, kneeling properly.
"Gojo Cyr," Cyr replied casually, lounging with one leg folded under the other, showing no hint of nervousness as he said the fake name.
"Gojo…" the city lord seemed to recall something.
His eyes landed on the boy's striking white hair and crimson eyes.
White hair… Yes, the head of the Gojo family was said to have white hair. So this boy could very well be from that family.
But red eyes… that was unusual.
The head of the Gojo clan had the most brilliant blue eyes—he'd once glimpsed them while in Kyoto, and the sight had left a lasting impression.
"A noble from the Gojo family, all the way from Kyoto. May I ask what brings you here?" the lord asked.
Oh? There it was—the first person to actually recognize the Gojo name.
"Nothing important. Honestly? I got lost," the white-haired boy replied carelessly.
That oddly relaxed air… it was eerily similar to that Gojo clan head.
To so boldly admit to being lost… That wasn't something your average noble could bring themselves to say.
Most nobles cared too much about appearances.
"Which direction should I take to get back to Kyoto?" Cyr asked.
"If you want to return to Kyoto… just head that way," the lord said kindly, pointing out the route.
"But it's nearly dusk now—would you care to stay the night and set out tomorrow instead?" he added politely.
Twilight was when things unseen during the day began to appear. And at night, those that dared not come out during daylight would all come out to play.
Hence the saying "Hyakki Yagyō"—the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.
"…No need." Cyr paused for a moment, then shook his head.
The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons? That sounded fun—how could he possibly miss that?
Why waste time hanging around with humans when there was that kind of excitement waiting?
"In that case, we'll take our leave." Having gotten the directions he needed, Cyr rose and left the room without giving anyone a chance to stop him.
"…A big shot from Kyoto, huh," the samurai murmured, his gaze deep.
Abilities like that… really were only seen in the elites from Kyoto.
And if he wasn't from Kyoto… then the only other explanation was that he was a powerful yokai.
"I've never heard of anyone named Gojo Cyr in the Gojo clan…" he muttered, hand drifting to the hilt of his sword, suspicion still lingering in his mind.
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