The emperor pinned the Jikininki badge to Mura’s kimono, pressing the polished metal against his chest with a single finger. His words tumbled within Mura’s mind like a single bean inside of an empty can. Mara was so close, he could smell the emperor’s perfumed skin.

“I… I will do whatever is needed of me,” he replied clearly.

Mara smirked, his upper face concealed by the darkness of the room.

“It interests me how easily you swear your loyalty. I hope it not so quickly retracted…”

Mura grimaced for a moment. No matter what he said to this man, Mara always had a retort for it. He felt as if he was being dissected, word by word. This was a battle of wits, and Mura was losing.

“My allegiance has always been to my empire, Your Majesty. It will never falter.”

Mara smiled, stepping back into the murky shadows. It seemed that Mura had saved some face with the monarch.

“Forgive me for earlier, for my… outburst,” Mara spoke solemnly. “Just like you, I am simply a man who wants to bring joy, security and emancipation to my people. Your thoughts will always be your own, I don’t expect you to share mine.”

Mura bowed his head in response, sure that the emperor would see.

“The reason I called you here to see me today is because I was impressed by your raw potential. You’re a novice, plain as day. But so was Nergal, our Minister of Defense and your fellow compatriot. So was Grendel and Kishin and the others. This is the beginning of your journey, Mura.”

Mara slowly walked across the room, casting impossibly stretched shadows across the walls as he passed by the candlelight.

“Every journey requires supplies, a guide… and that first step towards your destination,” Mara finished, his deep voice reverberating with a silken authority.

“What is my mission, Your Majesty?”

“If you weren’t made aware, the civilians of Yomi are forbidden from traveling to other realms. This world of ours, the one where we reside is Kurayami. You will be traveling to Nakatsukuni, the realm of humans.”

—The human world?

“Their world, as you might know is called Earth. You will be sent to Japan: an archipelago nation in the east. Our reconnaissance has reported several suspicious disappearances over the past week on the Japanese city of Monido,” Mara calmly declared, sitting on a shrouded throne.

“While there, I expect you to investigate these matters and if the target is of supernatural origin, eliminate it,” Mara concluded.

—Japan, huh? Sounds interesting…

“Very well, Your Majesty,” Mura accepted. “I assume I’ll have that guide you mentioned accompanying me?”

“You assume correctly. I’ve instructed my personal bodyguard to be the guide on your initial visit; she’ll merely watch and provide assistance should you absolutely require it. Any future missions will have you going with only your Thrall.”

—So I’ll be shadowed by his bodyguard, huh?

“What shall I call this bodyguard?” Mura inquired.

“Her name is Kirin, captain of the Onryō Squadron. Typically I’d have her unit handle assignments such as these, but it’ll serve as a pleasant introduction to wetwork for you as well.” Mara stated, crossing one leg over the other as he lounged comfortably. “Your comrade Kishin asked to be your guide first, but I had to deny him.”

Mura remembered Kishin from the morning earlier.

“Yes, we’ve met… He’s quite attached to me, it seems.”

“I’d keep away if I were you. The man is a convicted murderer, killed his own Thrall decades back. That’s a crime punishable by execution, which he survived as well. Naturally, I had Orochi pardon him. Despite his violent tendencies, I recognize potential from all situations.”

Mura’s pupils dilated. The jagged scar running down Kishin’s entire torso flashed into his memories.

—He… survived execution? How powerful is this guy… and to kill your own Thrall, no less! What a goddamn bastard…

“Nevertheless, you also require tools. Head to the location the guard gives you on the way out and meet with the blacksmith named Old Hob. He’s been busy all day forging a weapon for you, I hope you don’t mind it. He saw how much you favored spears and assumed this one would fit you perfectly.”

Getting onto his hands and knees, Mura bowed before the emperor.

“Thank you so much, I really don’t deserve this…”

“Then prove to me you do. You’ll find Kirin waiting for you at the forge with Old Hob, you are dismissed Tenth.”

“I won’t disappoint.” Mura finished, rising up and walking out of the gloomy room.

Mara sat, waiting unmoved like a corpse until Mura collected his shoes and the twin iron doors shut behind him. Once he was alone, Mara opened his palm and conjured a communications spell.

Floating in the center of his palm was the projection of a small pulsating white orb, orbited by glowing rings of various color.

“With his abilities honed, he’ll become a powerful ally to our cause,” Mara spoke to the miniature sphere levitating in his pale palm.

“Or a powerful force of opposition…” the orb spoke, its voice deep as the abyss and resounding like a war drum. “We must practice caution until the Advent…”

Mara grinned, flicking his coal-black tongue across his feminine lips.

“I alone am the only force of power these worlds possess. Worry not, I have already taken precautions to learn of the boy’s true allegiance. Patience is the greatest attribute I have obtained over the course of my eternity.”

The orb flared briefly in response.

“Very well, Excellency. I look forward to your progress…” it replied.

Mara closed his hand until it became a fist, ending the transmission with the mysterious voice.

“As do I…”

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❇ ❇ ❇

Mura and Lilith returned home to inform Naraka of the meeting and to change back into their usual attire. The location given to Mura was of a small forge in the Castle Town near the imperial palace. They stepped from the same limousine that had ferried them around all day, exiting the black vehicle near a large fountain in the central plaza.

“Guess we gotta find this Old Hob guy now,” Mura thought aloud, rubbing a small pinprick on his neck.

“Damn, the bugs are out already aren’t they? You know, winter really sucked all those years on the streets. Only good thing was you didn’t have to worry about insects sucking you dry!” Lilith griped, wiping some sweat off her brow.

The air conditioning within the car was nice, but being out in the summer heat was beginning to hit them like a mallet. The spray from the crystal clear fountain water cooled the duo off somewhat.

Together they walked along the cobblestone streets avoiding the hustle of afternoon pedestrians. Mura followed the directions until they reached a modest hut made of stone with varying colors of brown, peach and gray. It looked like it was taken from the pages of an old fairy tale, bordered by a fence adorned with cracked white paint. Lilith looked up at the wooden sign hanging from the building’s side.

“Fiddler’s Green? That’s an odd choice for a blacksmith’s shop, sounds more like a music shop,” she remarked with a snicker.

“Must have gone for something classical, I suppose?” Mura retorted with a smile.

He rapped his knuckles on the oak door three times, waiting for a response.

“Bloodstrider Mura?” a frail old voice shouted out from behind the hut.

“This is him! You, uh... You Old Hob?” Mura shouted back to the unknown location of the voice.

“What a stupid question! You hear any other geezers around here? I’m around the back, your order is done!” Hob retorted with a fiery spirit that was as tempered as his signature steel.

Lilith giggled and Mura’s head sank.

“It was kind of a stupid question,” Lilith snorted.

Mura lightly smacked the back of the yokai’s head as they walked around the bushy green shrubs that lined the home. Following the convenient brick path that led behind Old Hob’s abode, the smell of smelted metal and smoke began to hit their noses.

Their eyes met with a giant blacksmith’s forge, complete with anvil, tools and all sorts of other accouterments they couldn’t begin to recognize the purpose of. Turning to face them was a man of modest height no taller than Lilith. He had a stubby frame complete with a fat belly, spectacles and white hair only on the sides of his head. The old man had a wrinkled yet kind face with a silver, trimmed goatee.

“Heyo! Look at you kid, Jikininki! Congrats on the promotion,” Old Hob said, shaking Mura’s hand with a warm smile.

“Thank you! I’m still getting used to everything, I didn’t even expect to be here or receive anything—“ Mura said before being smacked on the back by the elderly demon.

The friendly smack knocked the wind from Mura’s lungs, making him realize the demon was stronger than he appeared.

“You usually don’t expect a gift, do ya?! I’ll tell ya, the last thing I expected was this gut of mine,” Old Hob chortled while shaking his round belly. “Too many adult beverages, I reckon! Hahaha!”

Lilith and Mura laughed along with the blacksmith. Shortly after, Mura looked around for the captain that was meant to be present with them.

“Where’s Captain Kirin?”

“She’s here in town, said y’all were taking too long so she left for a bit to grab some grub,” Old Hob said, picking a large silver weapon off his table.

“In the meantime, this son-of-a-bitch here took me all day to make! Luckily a bit of magic helped with the fast nature of the order. Not too many folks wanting spears and shit nowadays, but gotta love the long fellers!”

Old Hob handed the weapon to Mura with both hands. It was a type of spear he had never seen before, being comprised of a pole nearly as long as he was. On the end was a cross guard like a sword, complete with an actual blade adorning the spear as the crown jewel. The blade was the size of a shortsword’s, not the typical pointed steel tip he was used to.

The entirety of the weapon itself consisted of what looked like polished silver with a smoky ruby sheen in the sunlight. Along the blade and pole were several decorative ebony engravings in precious detail. Towards the opposite end of the pole were several curving, flourished ornaments that bloomed upwards; forming a beautiful end piece resembling floating petals.

“That there is a naginata, the beautiful bastard son of a sword and a spear! With a normal spear, all you can really do is stab. But with this you can stab and slice! This is the best part right here, watch this,” Old Hob stated proudly as he tapped the pole twice.

Responding to the taps, the naginata’s vibrated shortly before the flourished half of the pole folded upwards on a hidden hinge. The pole’s half snapped in place once it completed its arc; the petals forming a protective hilt that covered the weapon’s grip.

“Just like that, the naginata becomes a sword for close range combat! Hahaha, the weapon is magically attuned to account for balance changes depending on which form it’s in.”

Lilith’s eyes grew as big as saucers upon seeing the trick weapon. Mura’s mouth was meanwhile hanging wide open.

“This is incredible! It looks like it must have cost a fortune!”

“It did! Several million fortunes! The entire thing is made from pure hihiirokane, the strongest and most valuable metal in existence. Just a kilogram of this shit fetches upwards of four million sols on the black market!”

“F-Four million?!!” Mura and Lilith blurted in shock.

“Yes! Now imagine how much this heavy crap is worth! Don’t go flashing it around in the slums, that’s for damn sure…” Old Hob sighed. “But it had to be made from hihiirokane, it allows the weapon to be magically enchanted.”

“Enchanted??” Lilith awed.

“Yep! I fitted it with a special memory enchantment. You can use that fancy-smancy matter-shifting Tamashi Genkai of yours to morph the weapon into… well, whatever the hell you want! Only limits are your imagination and the mass of the weapon itself! Once you want it back to normal, it’ll return automatically,” Old Hob explained.

“Oh yeah! You probably don’t remember Mura, but you were turning everything around you into liquids and solids during that duel yesterday!” Lilith reminded her friend.

“I barely remember the details you told me, but that was in my weird trance state. I know what my Tamashi Genkai is now, but I still can’t use it…” Mura said, looking at Old Hob nervously.

“Well, uh… Guess that’s a feature on your weapon you’ll unlock… one day!!” Old Hob laughed, causing his belly to shake.

Mura held his weapon in its sword state, turning away from the blacksmith and Lilith to swing in mock battle. It felt perfectly weighted and swift as a thousand steeds.

“Ya like it? Another good thing about hihiirokane weapons are they never need to be sharpened and the damn things are unbreakable! Completely indestructible!” Old Hob pointed out, going over to retrieve a black ring from his craft table. It had a sleekness to it, with the inside of the ring having a red metallic texture.

“What’s that thing?” Lilith asked curiously.

“It’s a Substream Ring. You should wear this on your dominant hand and never take it off. The ring binds to the chosen weapon or object, in this your sword. Every fighter uses them, it’ll act as your sheathe so you don’t have to lug around your weapon everywhere!”

Mura blinked in surprise, placing the device on his right index finger. He looked at the weapon still in his left hand, then back to the Substream Ring.

“It’s not working,” Mura bluntly said.

“That’s because it works off your thoughts, kid! Think of sheathing your weapon and retrieving it!” Old Hob shot back.

—Sheathe?

Upon the mental command, the weapon disappeared nearly instantly as if wiped from reality. The immediate absence of weight boggled Mura’s brain for a second.

“That’s so flipping cool! I need one of those!” Lilith exclaimed.

“I got an order for some daggers I gotta craft for ya, kid. I’ll get on it once I get another shipment of hihiirokane.”

Lilith’s smile nearly stretched from ear to ear as her eyes sparkled with the excitement of a child on Christmas day.

“Just be careful, anyone wearing that ring can summon or send away whatever’s bound to it! Don’t let it get stolen or lost, got it? Can’t do replacements with these kinds of things…” Old Hob said with a worried laugh.

Mura nodded, sitting down in a nearby garden chair as Lilith joined him.

“Hey Mura, you gotta name it! Everyone in old samurai movies named their swords and stuff, you have to do it! It’s like, the official rules of having a legit weapon!” Lilith said to him, wagging her finger as if to make a point.

“The kid’s right, Tenth! Ya really should name it, something elegant and yet… fierce!” Old Hob cackled with a fiery belly laugh.

Mura placed his hand up to his chin, pondering. After some thought, he came to a conclusion.

“I’ll name it… Jigoku ni Tekine,” Mura stated proudly.

Old Hob snorted with a grin, scratching his white goatee.

“Nice choice, heh… the Handrail to Hell!”