Chapter 56 Part 3: Silent Vows

The chain-sickle in her grasp came alive, emanating a fierce glow as it crackled, drawing water that spiraled upward from the melting snow around her. With blinding speed, she launched herself at Obanai. He barely managed to block her overhead strike, drifting back from the force of it.

"Not bad," he grunted. "But it won't save you."

He swung his spear in a wide arc, but Namida nimbly dodged, landing a kick to his chest that sent him flying into a tree. She pursued swiftly, bringing her weapon down. Obanai rolled away just in time, the sickle burying itself in the trunk.

Wrenching it free, Namida whirled to block Obanai's counter. Their weapons clashed again and again at blistering speed. Namida could feel her Ryugami power waning - she had to end this now.

With a fierce cry, she swept Obanai's feet out from under him. Before he could react, she pinned him by driving the sickle into his shoulder. He cried out in pain.

"It's over, Obanai," she panted, holding the chain-sickle to his throat. "Yield!"

Obanai gurgled blood, then grinned viciously. "Over...for you."

Namida gasped as the "Obanai" beneath her disintegrated, seeping away into a shimmering pool of liquid that left no trace of his presence.

Fingers wrapped tightly around her shoulder, and in the next heartbeat, pain detonated through her as a spear thrust out from her chest, unfurling a wave of crimson agony.

"You fought well," Obanai said calmly. "But not well enough."

Stunned, Namida's hands shook as she pulled the weapon from her back, a scream of pain escaping her lips. Obanai just smirked, "You've sped up your own bleeding by doing that."

Blurring shadows threatened her vision, but she still managed to rasp, "How did you...?"

With a chilling confidence, Obanai said, "I tapped into my Ryugami form long before we started this fight and sought Hachiman, the God of War's aid. That earlier illusion? A gift from Hachiman." Obanai held up his hand, conspicuously missing a pinky. "The price for such power."

Understanding dawned on Namida, terror filling her eyes. "He was already empowered when we met!"

Without warning, Obanai threw a snowball at her. Even as she tried to dodge, it hit her, sending her sprawling back into the icy blanket.

Obanai's lips curled into a mocking smile as he watched Namida struggle, his voice carrying a casual, almost whimsical tone. "You know, that little decoy holds roughly 40% of my true strength." He ran a hand through his hair, a chuckle escaping him. "Pity, the Ryugami's flair is so fleeting."

He paused, a glint of delight in his eyes as he added with a nonchalant shrug, "Would be quite useful for chores, don't you think? Imagine him tidying up while I kick back—no fuss, no sacrifices." His laughter was a quiet rumble, a contrast to the cold stillness around them.

Laid out in the cold, Namida's thoughts raced, "This power..."

In that harrowing moment, the deity she had bargained with — Lord Susanoo — began to emerge from Namida's ravaged form. Its presence was ravenous and demonic, eyes alight with an ancient hunger.

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Obanai watched, his face a mask of revulsion, as the deity commenced its grim feast, consuming Namida's essence, her lifeblood drawn into its maw with a sickening voracity.

Amidst the chilling numbness, memories of Lord Kuroyama surged forward, warming her fading heart. She remembered the gentle curve of his smile, the depth of kindness in his eyes, and the solace she found in his presence. Overwhelmed, a tear slid down her cheek, freezing in the biting cold.

As the icy tear crystallized on her skin, Namida's mind raced back to a time when her life was a cold, unending downpour of misery, the streets of Edo her relentless tormentor.

The memory was vivid, almost tangible: a younger Namida, her knees against the unforgiving cobblestone, drenched from the relentless rain. Her clothes clung to her like a second skin, every fiber of fabric saturated with the heavy despair of a city that had forsaken her. The overcast sky loomed oppressively over Edo, shrouding her in shadows that seemed to mock her pain.

Back then, her days were punctuated by the rhythm of footsteps hurrying past, each set of hurried strides a reminder of her invisibility. And the nights, the cruel, cold nights, were a cacophony of unspeakable offers and the copper tang of blood in her mouth when she dared to refuse.

Namida could still feel the sting on her cheek where a samurai's boot had met her face, the contempt in his slurred words, "Dance for us, wretch, if you wish for coin!" Her dignity, already threadbare, was stripped from her in exchange for a few pieces of gold tossed carelessly into the mud beside her.

But the rain had stopped for her, just once, when he appeared. Kuroyama – a figure wearing a black kimono, his presence an unspoken promise of strength. His voice was gentle amidst the din of the raindrops, "Can you get up?"

Her reply was a nod, barely perceptible, drowned out by the sob that broke from her lips. This stranger, this enigma clad in the darkness of his attire, had offered her an umbrella, a simple gesture yet the only kindness she had felt in what seemed like lifetimes.

"I vow to follow you," she'd whispered through the tears, her words not just spoken but etched into the very fabric of her soul.

Kuroyama had looked at her, a myriad of emotions flitting across his face. "We have only known each other for a mere moment, and yet you vow to follow me?"

The pain that gripped her heart was palpable, but his question did not require an answer. Her resolve spoke for itself.

His eyes, deep pools of understanding, seemed to see through her. "You have been recently defiled," he'd said, not as an accusation, but as a vow of protection.

"From now on, you are part of my family, the Minamoto clan," he'd declared, presenting her with a bag that thrummed with a mysterious energy. As a small spirit emerged, her fear was instinctual, a primal reaction that sent her scrambling away from his sheltering presence.

But Kuroyama was relentless in his compassion. "Take it," he'd urged. "This will be your deity."

"Deity?" she'd echoed, her voice a mix of wonder and disbelief.

"Yes, all the blood members of my clan have perished. I am left with but four. Help me bring our clan back to its former glory. Accept this gift."

And so, she'd taken the bag, her fingers trembling as she felt the power of the deity Susanoo. "Let us be one," the deity had proposed, and in that moment, under the burst of divine light, a covenant had been forged.

Now, back in the present, the cold had seeped into her bones, but the fire of that memory burned bright within her. Summoning a final ounce of energy, her voice trembled with emotion as she is being eaten by her deity she whispered a fervent plea to Susanoo, "Please... guard Lord Kuroyama against the shadows that seek him."

And then, enveloped in darkness, her world faded to nothingness.

"Messing with deities..." Obanai muttered under his breath, a note of disgust threading his words, "It's a grim business." His gaze turned contemplative, laced with a warrior's calculation. "If only Kazuki can coexist with his deity, he could use the full extent of Tsukuyomi's Ryugami without sacrificing anything..."

Obanai's eyes locked onto the moon, its pale glow casting a silver sheen over the night. "He really is an enigma." Obanai mused, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "A deity with the power to wield a human vessel completely—such a thing isn't just rare; it's nearly unheard of." He noted, his eyes continuing to embrace the moon in a hushed reverence.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the heavy air from within Nijo Castle, slicing through the monstrous display before him. "Kaze?" he identified the voice, turning his back on the grotesque scene. "Trouble finds me in many forms."

He pivoted on his heel, setting his sights on the looming silhouette of Nijo Castle. A calculating glint sparkled in his eye as he considered, "Maybe Kuroyama's hiding somewhere in those ancient walls. I might just beat Kazuki to the punch." A wide grin unfurled across his face, full of cunning and anticipation.