Chapter 12: Far Older Than Us
Gasping for breath, Minato rounded the massive boulder, one
hand pressed against its surface.
Atop the rock jutting into the tiered waterfall sat a vague,
shadowy mass dark and indistinct.
A single shaft of sunlight pierced through a gap in the
canopy above, illuminating the black lump.
The pure, sacred light felt almost cruel in contrast to the thing it touched.
Scattered green leaves lay around it, as if it had fallen
from the sky.
The air around it shimmered with a smoky haze, like
soot just like when they’d first arrived at that house.
“Mi… Minato!”
Seri’s voice was thin and broken. Minato turned to see the
three familiars crouched some distance away, hands over their mouths, doubled
over.
Though they were guardians of the mountain, they’d rushed to
the scene sensing the disturbance—only to be overwhelmed by the corruption.
“We… we can’t get any closer…”
“The miasma… it’s too strong…”
“Ughhh… I feel sick…”
They gagged and trembled, clearly suffering.
“You okay?! Get farther back. I can handle it, right?”
“…Yes. You brought your notebook, didn’t you?”
“Of course.”
He pulled it from the vest pocket on his chest. Ever since
discovering his power, he’d made a habit of filling half the pages with
writing just in case.
Still, he couldn’t fully believe that his words could truly
exorcise spirits.
Tears welled in Torika’s eyes as she looked at him.
“Be careful…”
“I will.”
Minato nodded and stepped slowly toward the boulder.
The familiars could see it clearly.
As Minato walked, the black fog spilling from the lump
parted around him—like a sea splitting to reveal a path.
“Even with such intense corruption, Minato can’t see it… Ow,
my eyes…”
“Yeah. He’s walking through it like it’s nothing. Ugh my
nose!”
“Maybe it’s better not to see it. It’s filthy… and gross…”
They were divine beings familiars of the mountain god.
Sacred by nature, and extremely vulnerable to impurity. Being so young, they
hadn’t built up much resistance.
Soon, the pain in their eyes and noses faded. The nausea
subsided. They could finally stand again.
They watched, holding their breath, as Minato stepped onto
the boulder.
He looked down at the lump.
It was about the size of a human head, reaching halfway up
his shin.
Glancing at the familiars, he saw them standing on their
hind legs, watching him anxiously. They seemed to be recovering.
Relieved, he turned his gaze back to the lump.
To him, it was just a faint, dark mist. He felt no physical
discomfort.
Honestly, he couldn’t understand how something so vague
could affect the familiars so severely.
Minato lacked the gift of spirit sight.
Only when a spirit’s corruption reached extreme levels could
he barely perceive it.
So if he could see this one… it meant it was deeply tainted.
Yet Minato had exceptional resistance to impurity.
As long as he didn’t touch it, he’d be fine.
He stared at it curiously. It seemed to pulse growing
thinner, then thicker. Expanding, then shrinking.
“…Huh. So that’s all it is.”
He felt no particular awe.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the familiars frantically
waving their paws and stomping the ground.
Hurry up and purify it! they seemed to scream.
They looked like they were dancing. He almost laughed.
Refocusing, Minato flipped through his notebook.
The ink had faded slightly.
“Let’s see if this works…”
He was fascinated by his own power. After all, active
onmyoji paid handsomely for his written charms.
He tore out a page and let it fall.
It fluttered down, passed his waist and the writing vanished
completely.
“Gone without a trace… but the mist looks the same.”
He tilted his head, puzzled.
But to the familiars
“Whoa, it’s almost gone!”
“Totally shattered!”
“Just like the mountain god said!”
More than half the spirit’s mass had dispersed. The three
familiars bounced with excitement.
Yet a stubborn remnant remained.
The lingering corruption made them shiver and huddle
together, fur bristling.
“Touching it directly… yeah, let’s not.”
Remembering the pain from last time, Minato tore out a
bundle of pages and scattered them like rain.
One by one, the letters vanished as the papers fell.
Only the last page retained its writing.
Apparently, that did the trick.
Minato could finally see that the dark lump had disappeared.
It was the first time he’d truly witnessed his own power.
“…Kind of moving, actually. Is that… a deer? No, not quite.”
A pale shape began to emerge.
It resembled a deer but wasn’t one.
Its limbs were scaled. Its back bore long, flowing hair. Its
tail was like a bull’s. Its head had two horns, like a dragon.
Its eyes were closed, and its whole form shimmered with a
soft, ephemeral glow.
“No injuries, it seems…”
As Minato examined it from different angles, the familiars
climbed up to join him.
The miasma had vanished, and the mountain god’s pure energy
filled the air once more.
They gathered in a circle, listening to the waterfall
nearby, gazing at the creature in the center.
Its color deepened. Its presence grew stronger.
“It’s okay. It’ll wake up soon,” Seri said confidently.
Eventually, its eyes opened, reflecting the faces of Minato
and the familiars. It blinked slowly, then raised its head.
They stepped back, widening the circle.
The creature rose to its feet graceful and steady.
Its pale cream body shimmered like pearl. Its long whiskers
swayed in the breeze.
“You’re alrigh......”
Before he could finish, it leapt skyward no warning, no
hesitation.
It shot through the hole in the canopy like a rocket,
vanishing into the sky.
Stunned, Minato and the three familiars stared up at the
round patch of blue.
Minato lifted the brim of his cap, squinting. The creature
was already a distant speck.
“Fast… it’s already that far. Well, as long as it’s okay.”
“We should’ve received thanks.”
“Agreed. That was rude. It’s been around long enough to know
better.”
“Bye-bye! Stay safe~!”
Minato chuckled, the older familiars folded their arms in
irritation, and the youngest waved both paws in farewell.
As they stood there, each reacting in their own way, a few green leaves drifted gently down from the branches above.
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