Chapter 21 (Patreon)

The head of the Meguri clan was in a foul mood. And that was putting it very mildly. “Smoldering rage and silent fury” would have been much closer to the truth.

It was all thanks to five young idiots—relatively young, anyway—who’d driven a wedge between the clan and its former Master Hunter, Meguri Oda. The clan head, Meguri Sora, had only learned of this the previous evening, after returning to the clan district with its strongest hunters. They’d accompanied him on yet another mission to reseal a legacy left by their ancestors: one damn powerful evil spirit.

Once home, he’d had a bite to eat in peace, napped for a couple of hours, dealt with the backlog of routine business, caught up on what had happened in his absence, had dinner, visited several wounded young swordsmen, and enjoyed some tea. Then he checked the time. The clan’s former Master would be getting home from work about now and having dinner, with the rest of the evening free for himself and his family. The aging clan head sighed irritably again at the thought of the man they’d lost because a few old farts had been too narrow-minded. He dialed Oda’s number.

The answer was blunt and unmistakable. Meguri Oda told his old teacher that he never wanted to hear his voice again or have anything to do with his former clan. One of Sora’s most promising students offered no explanation. To the older man, still strong despite his years, that meant something serious had happened.

Sora knew his student well. Even as a greenhorn, Oda had never acted like a sulking fool. By the time he’d traded his wooden sword for a steel one, his words had ceased to be empty threats. His behavior now could mean only one thing: someone in the clan had struck at what the Master Hunter held dearest. His wife or his daughter. Or worse, both.

Years ago, only Sora’s intervention had stopped his student from cutting the head off a senile old man who’d spoken ill of Oda’s wife and daughter.

Maybe I shouldn’t have intervened, Sora thought, then quickly pushed the cowardly notion aside.

If that elder had been nothing more than a powerless old coot, Sora would have let him die. For years, all he’d contributed at clan meetings was nonsense, trouble, and farts. Unfortunately, no one gained a place in the Meguri clan’s leadership without influence, strength, or supporters.

The old fool with the digestive troubles had been remarkably fertile back when he wasn’t a complete idiot and his bowels still worked like clockwork. His many sons had proved remarkably good at staying alive. They were skilled, too, to give them their due. Most of them even had brains. Unfortunately, they were devoted to their father, so Sora had been forced to work hard to smooth things over.

Otherwise, the clan would have lost a fine Master Hunter and his talented daughter, and might have faced a small war within its own ranks. Small if they were lucky: Meguri Oda had supporters who would have drawn their swords for him without hesitation.

At least there’s one good thing, the veteran evil spirit hunter thought. Those idiots only managed to set the clan against its former Master. If they’d gone to Sona Sitri’s peerage for help, as I told them to, and run their filthy mouths there, the consequences could have been far worse.

When that thought first struck him, Sora hadn’t even brought up how the young idiots had decided on their own “not to go to those filthy demons for help.” Greenhorns, with certain elders—every bit as stupid and full of themselves—filling their heads with nonsense about the Meguri clan’s exceptional power and importance. They could have caused a disaster… The clan head might have faced far worse than a final break with a brave warrior and former student. He could have returned to find the entire clan district destroyed, with an enforcer of a demonic House sitting atop a mound of his clansmen’s bodies, waiting for him and the hunters who remained.

“I need to hammer it into their heads that…”

Meguri Sora began muttering to himself as he walked home from the clan assembly hall. The whole affair had kept him there almost until dawn: first he’d torn into the young fools, then argued with the elders who defended them. He never got to finish the thought: somehow, at any cost, he had to overcome the stubbornness of those jackasses, young and old alike.

First, Sora picked up the “melody” of the magical disturbances. He took a second to “listen” more closely and recognize the distinctive “sound” of demonic magic. Then he realized what the “melody” meant: someone was raising a barrier. The kind anyone who could use magic put up to keep their dealings private. And this one was going up… around the entire Meguri clan district.

Sora hadn’t had time to work out what that meant. Just as the thought began to take shape, the main gates to the clan district came flying into the courtyard with a loud crack.

One of the gate doors stopped barely ten centimeters from his left foot. In the lamplight, he made out a man in traditional Chinese clothes standing in the gap where the gates had been. His conclusion finally took shape. It was almost entirely swear words. Because the crest of the Great House of Sitri was right there on the young-looking man’s chest.

What have those brats been hiding from me?! Sora screamed inside his head. What he had to shout aloud was something else.

“STOP!!!” His heart nearly jumped out of his chest as the youngsters walking just behind him drew their swords and took a few steps toward the demon. Stupid morons! Making idiotic decisions was the only thing they did fast.

“But, Chief…”

“Shut your trap,” Meguri Sora growled as he passed one of the jackasses who’d spoken up.

The old hunter strode toward the member of House Sitri, motioning for his people to stay put.

“Good morning,” the “guest” said, studying Sora closely. He didn’t sound like he meant it.

“Good morning,” Sora replied evenly. He kept his face composed, as a clan head should. “What brings a demon of House Sitri to the Meguri clan?”

“You the clan head?” the demon asked, ignoring Sora’s question entirely. Not a hint of courtesy.

For a second, Meguri Sora clenched his teeth in anger as he looked at that beardless face. The demon could have passed for a high schooler. Still, he answered.

“I am Meguri Sora, head of this clan of evil spirit hunters.”

“Good, Chief.” To Sora’s surprise, the “guest’s” eyes softened a little. “I’m Chiba Taro, a Rook in Sona Sitri-sama’s peerage. She’s the heiress to the Great House of Sitri. I need to talk to you and your clan.”

When the demon finished speaking, he snapped his fingers. For a moment, Sora “heard” a strange sound, like several taut strings snapping. Then came a boom in the real world. So loud it sounded like a grenade had gone off in the hand of the man who’d introduced himself as Chiba Taro.

“What…”

“I don’t have time, so I figured this would get everyone out here for a talk,” said the young-looking man with the crest of House Sitri on his clothes. He watched the square in front of the gates fill with worried clan members who hadn’t come running when the gates were kicked in.

The hunters looked half asleep, half dressed, and on edge. To Sora’s relief, there were no children in sight.

“The kids are under an array that keeps them sound asleep. They won’t wake until we’re done,” the demon said, as if he’d read the clan head’s mind.

“Hmm… Thank you, but I would still like to know what this is about… and why it had to happen so early and in this… particular way,” the old hunter said, choosing his words carefully.

“Your place.” Chiba Taro looked over the square as more clan members gathered by the gates. “We need to talk about the Meguri clan. Turns out you’ve all forgotten your place.”

Brain-dead fuckups, Sora thought. So he’d been right. Why else would a demon show up here and make his disapproval so… obvious? His hints weren’t exactly subtle. It didn’t take a genius to see that those young idiots had landed the clan on the wrong side of not just its former Master, but a demonic peerage as well. Maybe even a Great House.

“I hear the Meguri clan considers joining the Great House of Sitri a disgrace. Is that right?”

“That’s… absolutely not true,” Sora said, still cursing the clan’s youngsters in his head.

“And yet some of your hunters feel free to say otherwise.” The demon looked Sora in the eye. For someone who seemed so young, there was a strange weight to his gaze. Sora had the odd feeling he was facing a seasoned old master. Furious enough to be frightening, but holding his anger in check… as if Sora were a child who didn’t know any better.

“They’re just young…” the hunter began, trying to smooth things over, but…

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you filthy demon?!”

Shit. That was Sora’s verdict on the way things were going now that the old fool with the digestive troubles had stepped onto the scene. His brain, apparently, wasn’t working any better than his bowels. Right then, Sora would gladly have seen him off to his grave, a single tear of joy rolling down his own cheek.

“Whatever I want,” the young man said calmly. The left corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Know why?”

For a moment, Sora felt something. He didn’t “hear” the magic the way the members of his clan “heard” it. It felt more like… the breath of a hurricane on the other side of a wall. As though something enormous and heavy had shot past him without raising so much as a gust of wind.

At that moment, the elder who had opened his trap to bury the whole Meguri clan even deeper seemed to choke on his words. With a loud, strained groan, he dropped to his knees and braced his hands against the paving stones. It looked as though some tremendous weight had come down on him. His arms shook, and his head hung low.

“Because I have the power to,” the demon answered his own question. “Why so quiet? Why’d you stop squawking? What’s with the kneeling? Get up, hold your head high, look this filthy demon in the eye, and finish what you were saying. Can’t? Is all your strength going into keeping that old, squawking beak of yours off the ground?”

Chiba Taro walked slowly toward the kneeling elder as he spoke. Across the square, the assembled hunters let their drawn swords slip from trembling hands and fought to stay on their feet. The elder’s sons and grandsons couldn’t help him. They managed only a few steps before an overwhelming pressure on their shoulders stopped them.

Sora wasn’t spared whatever the demon had done to the others. It felt as if an entire mountain had wrapped him in its arms, making his legs shake and forcing him to work for every breath. It was hard to stand, to keep his eyes open, even to fill his lungs. He wanted to drop to his knees like the elder and brace his hands against the paving stones, just to take some of the pressure off.

What kind of monster is he?! the Meguri clan’s foremost hunter thought in horror as the hunters, men and women alike, fell to the ground one after another, unable to withstand this strange magic.

“Mercy,” Sora forced out. He no longer had the strength to sound like a clan head. The single word came out as a plea.

To his surprise and relief, the pressure on his shoulders eased as soon as he made his… request. He could breathe more easily.

“I’ve been merciful enough,” the demon said. He stood over the elder, who had finally fallen facedown onto the stones. “You’re all still alive, aren’t you? This humble servant of the Great House’s Young Mistress came here not as an enemy, but as a senior who cares about his juniors’ lives.”

With a casual tug, Chiba Taro hitched up his robes and crouched before the old man.

“Your clan is in mortal danger.”

“Danger?” Sora played along, at least a little. His gut told him there was… an opening here. He’d been clan head for over a decade, and he knew how to read a situation. There had been a hint of goodwill in the Rook’s eyes. The pressure on Sora had eased, while everyone else could barely hold their heads up to see what was happening. Apparently, the demon didn’t have much against him personally.

“Of course.” The “guest” closed his eyes, his face a picture of wildly exaggerated, entirely fake sympathy and regret. “When I learned that the young hunters called my esteemed senpai, Meguri Tomoe-san, a disgrace to the Meguri clan because she joined a Great Demonic House… I was stunned. To serve the heiress of the most esteemed Sitri-dono, the Radiant Mistress before whose mercy, beauty, and wisdom even the heavens pale, is an honor granted to precious few. And yet… a disgrace? What a calamity. A terrible affliction. A sickness, a curse that has struck the clan.”

The demon’s hand came down on the back of the elder’s head and seized a fistful of gray hair.

“How else could you explain it?” Chiba Taro lifted the old hunter by his hair and looked him in the face. Sora caught sight of his elder and winced. Bulging eyes. A mouth stretched wide in a futile attempt to breathe. Thin streams of blood running from his nose and ears. “Surely a clan this hopelessly weak wouldn’t insult House Sitri of its own free will and in its right mind, would it? The Meguri who couldn’t help my esteemed senpai ON THEIR OWN after her elders’ hunt for evil spirits got her hurt. The Meguri who can’t handle their own problems and ask for help not only from the heiress to the Great House of Sitri, but from the former Master they EXPELLED because they couldn’t save his daughter. The Meguri who can’t fight back against ONE demon who was reincarnated less than six months ago. Who can’t even get off their knees.”

Sora clenched his jaw. Humiliation. That was what the “guest” wanted. He was treating the clan Sora had been so proud of like a doormat. It was cynical and brazen, but… Sora felt utterly helpless. He wasn’t sure he could take a single step without falling like the others. The other hunters felt it too.

“Surely the ESTEEMED evil spirit hunters don’t imagine they live in a fairy tale where a yard mutt barking at a dragon is funny? That the dragon might find it amusing? That the Lord of the Sky would see such DISRESPECT from a brainless animal that doesn’t know its place and merely laugh or think it cute, instead of burning the dog, the yard, and its owners to ash? Of course not. That’s why I’m certain your clan is under a curse of idiocy.”

With a sharp movement, the demon flung the elder away. He landed on the paving stones a few steps off and lay on his back, staring up at the sky. His mouth kept opening soundlessly, his eyes bulging. His fingers barely scraped at the ground.

“I give you permission to BREATHE,” the member of House Sitri said as he rose.

A loud rasp filled the square before the gates. The old hunter was dragging air into his lungs in harsh, noisy breaths.

“You, the Meguri clan, have lived on the land of the House I serve for a long time.” The demon began walking slowly toward the other kneeling hunters. “No one demanded tribute from you. You paid no taxes. When you needed help, you got it freely, with nothing asked in return. House Sitri and my Beautiful Mistress’s peerage didn’t care what you said in your kitchens. What you whispered about or discussed at the top of your lungs. As long as it stayed among you, within the Meguri clan. You’re free to love demons or not. You’re free to cast out masters who served you faithfully. We don’t care how little you give a shit about honor, gratitude, or even that humanity of yours you value so highly. Scum spit on men they once called brothers, forget every kindness, and throw years of loyalty away. Throw out a man who gave everything he had to the clan? Trash would do it without a second thought. They’d turn a blind eye to the circumstances, the hypocrites, their disgusting, two-faced mugs twisted in contempt. What does a man’s child mean to him? Everything! And what did you demand of him? That he watch his own daughter die. Die of a curse that none of you scum even noticed as it grew and spread, let alone lifted when it began devouring the child. What was she supposed to die for? For… your human purity? If she’d died, you wouldn’t have expelled Meguri Oda-san? You’d have graciously let him keep doing his DUTY to worthless bastards who put the hollow honor of weak dogs above all else, when they couldn’t even do their OWN DUTY to a dying daughter of the clan?”

Chiba Taro strolled past the kneeling swordsmen, studying the few faces raised toward him with the curiosity of a zoo visitor.

“What a perfect opportunity for hatred and contempt, right? Your former Master’s daughter, a little sister to those older than her and a friend to those her own age, survived. Isn’t that reason enough to start spewing bile and venom? To brand her a shameful stain on the honor of the glorious Meguri clan?”

The demon stopped with his hands behind his back and looked up at the starry sky. Silence settled over the square, broken only by the elder’s hoarse, greedy breaths. He had been ALLOWED to breathe in and out.

“But none of that matters to House Sitri.” Chiba Taro’s voice grew sadder. “Under this beautiful sky, there are so many heaps of trash that the Underworld, Heaven, the Fallen Angels, and everyone else put together couldn’t clear away all the filth. If you choose to stink and rot in a dump full of biological waste, that’s up to you. Mortals were given free will, and they happily make use of it. They’re left alone… by anyone with sense who plays by the rules, of course. But that ends the moment they reach out from their dumps, where they so enjoy playing with trash, and try to grab at the hems of the clean clothes worn by those who stand immeasurably above them.”

“Humans… aren’t trash…” one of the hunters rasped, barely audible but furious, glaring defiantly at the demon.

“Oh, they absolutely are,” Chiba Taro said, shaking his head. “But amid the mountains of refuse, the worms and maggots and worthless insects, there are diamonds that shine like stars. You probably think, hunter, that now I’m a demon, I spit on the people I came from and flaunt the power the Underworld gave me. Right? You’re wrong. I’ve always been strong. Even as a mere mortal, I’d be standing here just the same, watching the Meguri clan kneel before me.

“I know humans are born with pitiful strength, but their potential is limitless. I know that relentless effort, talent, willpower, and determination can let a mere mortal ascend to Heaven or descend into the Underworld, and make the inhabitants of those higher realms bow in respect for his strength. Someone strong enough, mortal or not, can make gods and demons tremble at his wrath. Someone who reaches incredible heights of power sets the laws of Earth and Heaven, demands respect… and if it isn’t given willingly, takes it by force!”

The young-looking man sighed heavily as he looked at the hunter who’d tried to argue with him.

“But you’re nothing like the diamonds I was talking about. You live in your own little world, convinced of your own strength and power, and forget that beyond Heaven lies another Heaven. You’re children who sometimes manage to fight off a lame stray dog and then think a wolf deep in the forest is nothing to worry about. I see fear in the eyes of those who can push through my spiritual pressure and look me in the eye. I see the hatred this humiliation has stirred up… But ask yourselves: every time you try to teach your children and younger siblings some sense by smacking their adventure-hungry asses, don’t you make them feel the same things? Fear of pain. Wounded pride. Helplessness before adults…”

The demon turned toward the fallen elder, who’d finally gotten his fill of air and was now watching the Meguri clan’s uninvited guest with his face twisted in hatred.

“Humans and nonhumans alike teach little kids who don’t know any better the basic rules. Respect your elders. Don’t talk back to them. Listen to Mom and Dad. Wash your hands before eating.” The demon stopped over the old man lying on his back and studied his face with interest. “Don’t take candy from strangers and, Devil forbid, go anywhere with them. So I came here, brought you to your knees, trampled your pride, and shattered your illusions… all to offer some guidance. A lesson from your senior.

“I’m a reincarnated demon in the peerage of the heiress to the Great House of Sitri. The most junior member of my peerage. Meguri Tomoe-san is my senpai, whom I respect and hold dear. She’s a wonderful girl. Beautiful, generous, kind. So kind that even though you turned your backs on her, threw her father out of the clan, and heaped contempt on her mother… Despite sins for which I’d wipe out every last one of you without hesitation, the former daughter of the Meguri clan doesn’t want a single one of you to die. Her mercy toward you worthless, ungrateful lot is the only reason I’m standing here now, doing nothing more than talking.”

“Such… great… mercy…” the elder rasped with hatred.

“So you finally understand.” The demon pretended not to hear the sarcasm. “When you leave the house, hunters, you need to know exactly what you are ALLOWED to say, and to whom. Tomorrow, another batch of snot-nosed brats may use the asses they have for heads to shit out the same line: joining the GREAT HOUSE OF SITRI is a disgrace to the Meguri clan. Brats who couldn’t even BREATHE if I decided otherwise. And when that happens, it might not be me who shows up.

“Let’s imagine what happens if that stench from the mouths of the intellectually ungifted is heard not by the MOST JUNIOR member of Sona Sitri-sama’s peerage, but by… say, her esteemed father? Or, Nine Heavens forbid, by one of the Four Satans of the Underworld: my Mistress’s esteemed elder sister, Serafall Leviathan herself? What would happen to the small but proud Meguri clan? Let’s imagine it together!”

Chiba Taro grinned broadly and clapped his hands. Once again, Sora didn’t “hear” any magic, but he felt something strange. A moment later, reality changed.

The man blinked.

He was still standing in the square, but the demon who’d been mocking the Meguri clan was gone. So were the kneeling hunters who hadn’t been able to hold their swords, let alone stand.

But… where had he gotten any of that? What was this nonsense doing in his head now, when the clan had been destroyed?

Meguri Sora blinked again as tears filled his eyes. The clan district they’d all built with such care, buying up houses and pouring money into it, was ablaze. Roofs collapsed. Thick, greasy black smoke rose into the sky. The stench of burned meat was unbearable. Human meat.

Everywhere the clan head looked, there were bodies. The Meguri… had been wiped out. Every last one of them. Only he remained standing, dying inside as he watched the ruin of everything he’d ever had. His children, grandchildren, students, friends, comrades… good companions and people he’d never even liked. All of them had died at the hands of a merciless executioner.

Sora dropped to his knees and touched his beloved granddaughter’s head with a trembling hand. Pain, confusion, fear… all frozen on the girl’s face. Such a horrible death for someone who should have had her whole life ahead of her…

Unable to bear it, he screamed. The sound was terrible, full of pain and hatred, as he cursed everyone and everything. Humans, gods, and demons. The allies who had betrayed them or been too afraid to help. The merciless enforcers. His soul was dying with his clan. There was no reason left. No reason at all to live…

Sora blinked.

The clan district stood intact. Only the gate doors lay on the ground. His clansmen were alive… But, like him, they looked around in confusion that turned first to relief, then to horror.

“Think about whether your false sense of importance and puffed-up pride are worth the terrible consequences they can bring. Do you really need to provoke the dragon sleeping next door? He may be asleep, but his hearing is keen, and a false sense of superiority is no armor against the flames of the Master of the Heavens. Think, Meguri clan. And don’t forget: it’s only because of the mercy of the girl nearly all of you turned your backs on that what you just saw was an illusion instead of reality. I’d thank Meguri Tomoe-san for her magnanimity if I were you.

“And yes, I’m speaking to the senior members of the clan now: give your juniors some guidance before letting them beyond the walls of your district. When children make mistakes, a good deal of the blame lies with the people who raised them. I hope I’ve weakened the curse of idiocy that struck your clan. I think you should be able to fight it now.”

Meguri Sora, head of the Meguri clan, blinked as he watched the demon walk unhurriedly out through the empty gateway. The spell forming the concealment dome unraveled with a phantom chime.

Everything he’d just seen… a hallucination? An illusion?

Even with the pressure gone from his shoulders, it took a tremendous effort to stay on his feet. The old warrior had seen plenty in his life, but he had to fight to hold back tears of relief and a shout of joy. Very few of the others managed to keep it together.

Wails and sniffles came from one evil spirit hunter after another, and here and there, someone broke down sobbing. Only a handful of swordsmen found the strength to get up. Many lowered their heads even closer to the ground than they had when the uninvited guest’s strange power bore down on them.

“I’ll kill them,” Sora said grimly, finally getting his emotions under control.

The five young warriors were in for it. For daring to hide from their clan head exactly what stupid shit they’d said, and for the… horror the old hunter had gone through today. The elders wouldn’t save them either. One of them was whimpering like a baby, smearing tears and snot all over his face… and he’d pissed himself, too. In short, nothing was going to save those jackasses from the old master knocking some sense into them with his fists.

Meguri Sora cast one last glance at the gateway where the “young man” had disappeared. Then he breathed a sigh of relief and headed straight for the young morons who’d decided to tug a dragon’s whiskers.

As for the Sitri clan and that demon? Tomorrow, Sora would visit every temple in the area and thank the gods for the luck that had spared the Meguri clan a terrible fate. If he knew of any Satanic churches, he’d drop by those too with a couple of black goats. But alas, the Sitris and Gremorys didn’t like places like that for some reason, and didn’t allow such groups on their territory.

Then he’d round up all the old fossils, buy expensive gifts and the best sake he could find, and go ask Meguri Oda for forgiveness. And yes, he wouldn’t forget to thank little Tomoe for her kindness.

What else could he do? Nurse a grudge against the Sitris? After meeting the MOST JUNIOR demon in the heiress’s peerage… Sora suspected that few among the Meguri were still under any illusions. He’d find every last one of those spectacular morons and knock the stupidity out of their heads. Through their asses, if he had to. The clan head didn’t even want to think about what would happen if the next one to show up was one of the senpais instead of the kohai…