Himiko rushed to Sayako who lay motionless on the ground. She placed a finger upon the shrine maiden’s neck and said, “She’s still alive.” Ryoma sighed happily. He was both relieved that Sayako would likely pull through such a horrid experience to hopefully make a full recovery and also ecstatic to see his friend caring for her fellow maiden as was her goal for as long as the two knew one another. He also had his fears and doubts about whether Himiko would retain her humanity being bestowed the power of a goddess but she seemed to be her usual self in spite of realizing her destiny.

  The only real difference was the fact that Himiko was glowing. Ryoma had heard the expression used on beautiful girls in the poetic sense, but his companion was actually glowing! Her fair skin radiated with the same sheen as the moon itself which made sense seeing as how she was apparently the embodiment of Kaguya’s lifeforce. It was particularly lovely in the samurai’s eyes.

  Ryoma wished to confess his love for Himiko there and then, but she interrupted his process as her shoulders slumped and she said, “I’ve suddenly grown so weary. I suppose the awakening drained me of my vigor. Ryoma, you go on ahead. I’ll stay back and watch after Sayako.” He wanted to insist that they stick together but could see the exhaustion painted across his companion’s face and decided against the notion.

  Picking up the still burning torch off the ground by the reunited maidens, Ryoma relit his katana, handed off the torch to Himiko for their peace of mind, and made his way to the throne room door. It still stood emblazoned with a breathtaking kiku carving, but it was now stained with blood. Ryoma didn’t take the time to lament the loss of its beauty, though, and instead pressed his foot against the wood. With all his force, he kicked the door wide open.

  Inside, the throne room appeared the same as it had when Ryoma was thrown out; two possessed guards on either side of the room, and upon the throne sat the demon lord Orochi. The snake king leaned forward and exclaimed, “Ryoma, my liege, please help me! I can’t fight its control much longer!” The plea came through in Emperor Hiro’s voice.

  Ryoma was taken aback for a moment yet then became calloused to the trickery and said, “Your attempts to shake me won’t work, Orochi. I’ll have your head before you deceive me again.” Orochi then laughed in its own tone and said, “Well, you can’t blame me for trying. I was hoping you really were that dim, samurai.”

  Orochi lifted to Hiro’s feet and said, “I see that you have the shogun’s subordinates running around my castle. So, does that mean you saw my little gift for their boss? Yes, you must have. Oh, I did so love executing that little whore!”

  “Shut your mouth, demon!” Ryoma screamed. Such disrespect to the empress was too much for the samurai to bear. Orochi frowned and said, “Well then, it seems you’re not in the most jovial mood, Ryoma. What a shame. I had hoped to toy with you a fair bit longer, but I suppose that’s not what you had in mind. Can’t say I blame you, after all you’ve been through. Very well. Guards, kill him.”

  The two guards, possessed by onryo, moved menacingly across the throne room, laughing all the while. “We’ll teach you to come back here, Ryoma.” They both prepared their spears. The first lunged with ferocity, but Ryoma easily parried the attack. Memories of their previous bout flooded back into his head, but he was prepared this time.

  Ryoma also thought back to his battle with Koichi. Compared to that beast, the lowly demons he faced now were pathetically weak. He maneuvered underneath the spear, using the unruly length of the opponent’s weapon to his advantage once more. In the blink of an eye, he reached the enemy’s breast with his blade and plunged the metal into the oni’s stolen heart.

  Fire instantly spread out from the katana into the host body and the demon screamed in pain. Ryoma thought back to their first encounter again and coldly said, “Regenerate from that, bastard.” Then, he heard the spear drop from the second guard’s hands, and he looked to see the onryo falling down in fear, watching its compatriot writhe in agony.

  Ryoma removed his weapon from the first guard’s chest and left the demon to burn. He turned and began walking toward the second guard. It started begging for its life. “Please,” it exclaimed, “don’t hurt me! I was only following orders! I swear, I’ll return to Yomi if you let me live. What do you say?” Ryoma, with fury in his eyes, said, “Don’t worry about returning to Yomi; I’ll send you there myself.” He stabbed down into the guard’s head, witnessing the eyes sear and crackle out of their sockets.

  Before Ryoma could look up to his next opponent, Orochi had extended its neck once more, morphing into a snake-like creature, and lunged with blistering speeds toward the samurai. Its fangs pierced through his throat again, reopening the fortnight-old wounds. Ryoma gasped and dropped his katana, causing the flames to die with no torch in sight. He fell to his knees.

  The demonic toxins began coursing through Ryoma’s veins immediately. The room began to spin as it had before, and beautifully vivid colors danced across the rotating walls. He couldn’t believe he had been poisoned again! Orochi, meanwhile, laughed uproariously. “You fool!” It exclaimed. “I swear, you will die by my fangs this time around! There’s no escape, samurai!”

  Ryoma felt as though he were going to faint on the spot. He considered running away again, jumping out the window and making his way down the river once more. But he knew it wouldn’t work a second time. Yuki wouldn’t be there to carry him downstream, and Himiko wouldn’t be in her village to patch him up.

  Thinking of his companions, Ryoma realized that he couldn’t run this time anyway. If he left now, Orochi would get its slimy hands on Himiko and Yuki and kill them without hesitation. He owed it to the two of them, as well as Tetsuo, to keep fighting.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  On the verge of collapse, the crimson apparition appeared before Ryoma again. “Emperor Hiro,” he said, “I mustn’t fail you.” Then, however, it dawned on him after seeing the golden maiden that fused with Himiko. The divine nature of the scarlet visage could never belong to a human alone. “No,” Ryoma said as he finally realized, “this isn’t a vision of the emperor. It never was. It’s a reflection into myself!” The ghost stretched out its hand as it had in the past and Ryoma accepted. This time, however, with a new understanding of the ordeal thanks to Himiko’s transformation, he refused to succumb to his fleeting conscious’s desire to fade away. Instead, he felt a sudden surge of energy radiate throughout himself.

  Ryoma stood back up, the punctures upon his neck cauterizing themselves shut, and his vision became clearer than ever. Orochi’s vile figure came back into view, its expression betraying it for a terrified being. “No,” it said, “it can’t be.” It recognized the overwhelming, crimson aura emitting from its opponent, yet was too afraid to admit such a fact. The samurai, however, with eyes burning red and skin aglow, was more than willing to make the connection.

  “That’s right, you sniveling serpent.” Ryoma said as he casually retrieved his katana. “The blood that runs through my veins, the blood you cannot tarnish, is not merely that of man, but is intertwined with that of the great god Susanoo!” Orochi reeled back and asked, “A-are you truly he who slew me all those eons ago?” Ryoma smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Orochi. It does appear that I am indeed his reincarnation, but I am also still Ryoma Amami, for now and all time.”

  Orochi relaxed ever so slightly until Ryoma continued, “Don’t mistake my intentions, demon! The fact that I’m human means my blood boils with human desires. And do you know what I desire most in this moment? I’ll tell you; I will avenge my lord and lady! For Emperor Hiro and Empress Haru, I swear, I will slay you again!” His oath boomed throughout the throne room with the gusto of a true god.

  Ryoma’s declaration infuriated Orochi. “Well then,” it exclaimed, “I’ll put that statement to the test! If you really are still Ryoma, then know that I’ve beaten you before, and I’ll do it again here and now, once and for all!” Orochi began grunting and Hiro’s body began convulsing at the end of its elongated neck.

  Then, seven additional heads burst forth from atop Hiro’s torso. It had transformed into Yamata-no-Orochi. Eight identical pairs of purple, snake eyes stared down Ryoma. “Alright, samurai,” they asked in unison, “what’s your next move?”

  Ryoma, however, did not shirk back from Yamata-no-Orochi. Instead, he inhaled and placed the katana in his left hand. Without any quartz needed, he cast fire around the blade. “You don’t require existing flames to start your own?” The menace asked. The samurai ignored him and moved the weapon in an arching pattern, but the flame stayed in place, hanging in the air.

  Another burning, ghostly sword appeared as Ryoma continued tracing his katana through the air. Then another and another. Reaching the apex of his wingspan, he passed the weapon to his right hand. Yamata-no-Orochi couldn’t discern what was occurring, merely staring in a state of bemusement. More sharp blazes formulated along the blade’s edge. By the end of it all, he had drawn a half-circle and formed eight fiery apparitions.

  “Go.” Ryoma said. The phantom flames burst forth toward Yamata-no-Orochi. Each impaled an individual head directly betwixt their snake eyes. They screamed in a chorus of anguish as the scales melted down their flesh. The fire swiftly traveled down the necks toward Hiro’s body. Thinking even faster, the monster took a kwaiken and sliced its own throat, decapitating the multiple heads from the body.

  Ryoma rushed to the figure slumped over on the throne as crisp decapitations sizzled out of existence around him in cascading fashion. A human head regenerated from the stump and opened its eyes. It was Emperor Hiro’s eyes this time. “Ryoma,” he said meekly, “please help me.” The samurai could somehow tell right away that it was truthfully the emperor speaking and not some deception from the snake king. He supposed the eyes and ears of a god could not be swindled by a demon.

  “Emperor Hiro.” Ryoma said. He took the man in his arms and hugged him ever so tightly. He hadn’t planned on letting go until Hiro tried pulling away from him. He loosened his grip to look the emperor in the eyes. “Emperor Hiro?” He repeated

  “Ryoma,” Hiro said, “I’m so sorry.” He began crying. Ryoma asked, “What for, Your Highness?” Hiro turned away, still sobbing, and said, “You haven’t cleansed me of Orochi. I can still feel its presence inside my soul. Its grasp on my being is too strong now to be separated. It will resurface before too long, my dear Ryoma. You need to kill me before that happens.”

  Ryoma couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had finally accomplished his goal of saving his lord only to hear that the one he fought for was asking to die, demanding it even. He began to cry himself and wanted to say that he wouldn’t dare harm Hiro, but before the words could form, the emperor began convulsing.

  “Emperor Hiro!” Ryoma exclaimed. Hiro had nearly lost complete control of his body, only able to repeat himself. He yelled, “Kill me, Ryoma! Please!” Ryoma grabbed his katana but couldn’t will himself to carry out the deed. Hiro screamed in pain and jerked his head back.

  Throwing his head forward, Hiro stared Ryoma down, his eyes purple again. “Do it, you fool!” He exclaimed. “Now!” Feeling the presence of Susanoo, his true self, once more, Ryoma realized there wasn’t any time left to waste for the sake of the mortal. Orochi needed to be stopped as he had done so, so many years ago. Through tears formed within his ruby gaze, he cast a fresh fire upon his blade and pierced Hiro’s heart with it. The amethyst sheen soon thereafter faded from the emperor’s eyes, along with any trace of life. The newly-reborn god held the fallen demon until the blaze subsided.