I loaded the geek game

Centered in Shinjuku Ward, the massive and imposing Takamagahara reinforcements spread to other areas of Tokyo where fighting was still raging.

Meanwhile, on the battlefield further away, two more auras of divine power suddenly rose from other directions of the city, auras that were truly awe-inspiring!
One of them was ancient and viscous, carrying the profound and all-encompassing presence of the Earth Mother Goddess, yet within it interwoven a deadly divine power as dense and silent as spider silk, like a giant net covering the heavens and the earth, tightening silently.

More violent and unrestrained, it soared into the sky like molten lava breaking free from its restraints. The fighting spirit was so pure that it almost burned the soul, and the power it contained was unruly, with the primal wildness of dragons and snakes writhing and ghost kings looking down, ruthlessly tearing apart the foul air that permeated the entire city.

Even though Little Deer and Little Sunflower couldn't witness it firsthand, their keen senses allowed them to clearly perceive it—

This likely means that the Seven Lords, along with the Demon King Kotsuchi, arrived at another, unseen front of the battlefield and pulled the Spider Mother Goddess and Ibaraki-doji into the fray!
"For Takamagahara!"

"For Lord Kamiya!"

The sounds of fighting and roaring echoed like a tsunami throughout the city. Those desperate battle lines that were on the verge of collapse were forcibly held back by the immense power descending from Shin-Takamagahara, and even began to slowly push back towards the source of the corruption.

The call to counterattack has been sounded.

"……what are these?"

A hoarse voice echoed from the ruins, trembling with disbelief.

"More demons and monsters...?"

"...No, not the enemy." Another voice cut off the terrified speculation. The voice was initially hesitant, then became certain, and finally even broke into a sob, "Hey...hey! Look at the sky!"

Several exorcists, their spiritual energy nearly depleted and clinging to the broken walls, simultaneously raised their heads, following the trembling fingertips of their companions—

High above, the terrifying dome that was once occupied by dark torii gates and bone shrines beyond human comprehension has quietly changed. Those pulsating, twisted, and malevolent creations seem to have been wiped away by an invisible giant hand, but the sky has not become brighter as a result; instead, it has settled into a deeper, darker gloom.

Then, a clear, melodious sound like the striking of jade chimes came from the air.

A woman's figure silently floated in the very center of that gloomy place.

Her black robe, like the deepest night, enveloped her slender and serene silhouette. In her hand, a jet-black scythe, wreathed in ominous black energy and sacred gold patterns, pointed diagonally downwards, its blade gleaming with a chilling light that seemed to reap souls; in her other hand, she held a ghostly lantern, its blue-green flame flickering quietly within the lampshade, its dim light illuminating her serene profile half-hidden beneath her hood.

Yatagarasu, the god who guides people across the boundary between life and death.

Another god from Takamagahara has descended to the present world.

She simply existed, silently suspended there, yet the space around her rippled with the hem of her black robe, creating subtle ripples that were imperceptible to the naked eye but perceptible to the spirit.

Then, she moved.

It wasn't a step; it was merely a very slight movement as it raised the massive, jet-black scythe, which was wreathed in ominous black energy and sacred golden patterns.

The movements were slow and graceful, even with a touch of ritualistic elegance.

Then, looking up at the thick, oppressive, gloomy sky above—

Wave it down.

There was no earth-shattering bang, no dazzling burst of energy.

There was only one "boundary," so clear yet indescribable, that silently extended upwards and to both sides from where she stood, following the trajectory of the falling scythe.

Like the sharpest blade slicing through the most stagnant inkwell.

The sky was cleaved open with this seemingly effortless yet elegant stroke, revealing the "existence" beneath the gloom.

With that invisible boundary as the axis, the sky was sharply divided.

Half of it remained a deep, inky, impenetrable night. A viscous darkness churned within, as if countless indescribable shapes writh and multiply within it—the lair of the underworld's demons, exuding a suffocating filth and chill. The darkness, like a living curtain, hung low, swallowing light, distorting space, and firmly grasping half of Shinjuku in its cold palm.

The other half is light.

It wasn't the bleak moonlight that accompanies the descent of the Yellow Springs.

Instead, it was warm, intense, and so bright it was almost blinding—

The light of sunrise.

Crimson, golden orange, light purple, and moon white blended and flowed, spreading and blurring across the sky. This light did not appear violent, but possessed an irresistible penetrating power and inclusiveness, gently yet firmly resisting the boundary of darkness, nailing it firmly to its place, unable to erode it even a little bit more.

Under this light, the sea of ​​clouds was reshaped, transforming into inverted pavilions in the sky, broken towering corridors, and the majestic yet dilapidated foundations of palaces...

The shattered Takamagahara, composed of the substance of light and the illusory shadows of ancient bricks, floats silently in mid-air, slowly rotating, casting a huge and magnificent shadow. Yet, it appears hazy and sacred due to the faint light it emits, like a dream.

On the ground, the battle lines were clearly demarcated by the division between light and darkness.

On the dark side, the howls of the Yellow Springs demons became restless and angry. They huddled in the deepest shadows, their scarlet eyes warily gazing at the area shrouded in light, their filthy bodies rising wisps of black mist from the edges of the halo.

Beneath the light lies a "pure land" that stubbornly expands outward from the ruins in front of Shinjuku Station.

The blade of Dojigiri Yasutsuna in Tsurumi Aoi's hand hummed softly, its clear edge reflecting the sunlight streaming down from the sky, radiating a cool, refreshing glow, yet also possessing an abundant divine quality. That light climbed up the tsuba (handguard) to her knuckles, softening the cold, stern lines of her profile for a moment.

"teacher……"

She narrowed her eyes slightly, her gaze like a quenched blade, piercing precisely into the direction of the densest darkness.

"Master..."

At the top of the ruins illuminated by the sunrise, Kanoya Yukino stood, looking up.

A crimson halo gently bathed the girl's blood- and dust-stained cheeks, turning her trembling eyelashes a pale gold. The wisps of smoke from the incense burner in her hand swayed, rising straight towards the inverted miracle, bathed in the light cast from the heavens.

She took a deep breath, then turned around to face all the scarred yet still standing figures behind her, to every pair of eyes reflecting the dawn. The encouragement she couldn't express before now had the strongest foundation.

The fawn's voice was no longer hoarse, no longer hesitant, but clear as a stream breaking through ice, echoing clearly and firmly across the battlefield where light and darkness intertwined:

"Everyone, we will win! Our Master is with us!"

……

The deer's voice was clear and loud enough for all the surviving exorcists in Shinjuku, including Masao Nagatomo, to hear clearly.

"What did Miss Miko just say?"

Behind the ruins, an exorcist blinked blankly, his chapped lips moving slightly.

“She said… Master.” The other murmured, his gaze slowly rising from the blood-stained broken blade in his hand, across the ruins, to the high place gently enveloped by light, to the girl’s slender, proud back. “She said, Master… is with us.”

"Master? Whose master? That one... unparalleled in this world?"

"...Who else could it be besides that person?"

"So that sir, that sir is..."

There was a brief silence.

It's not that I don't believe it, but the information is too overwhelming and needs time to digest.

Meanwhile, throughout the battlefield, the deafening roars of the Takamagahara demons continued to pound the air:

"For Lord Kamiya!"

"To lead the way for Lord Kamiya!"

At this point, everything finally became traceable, the pattern so clear it was dazzling—

At this moment, all the extraordinary beings who have descended here and reversed the course of the battle have gathered together because of the same name and are fighting for the same will.

It is His will that cleaves through the eternal night and pours forth the light of heaven.

Suspended in the sky, supporting the miracle, is His power.

His apostles are those who shatter the void and crush the filthy spirits.

But the one who brought all this down was not some distant, ancient god sitting high in the clouds.

He is the master of "Finger God Child" and "Demon Sword Princess".

He is hailed as "unparalleled in this world," his name already widely known in the world of exorcists, yet to most exorcists, he remains like a dragon's shadow in the clouds, a legend whose scales and claws are only visible—

Kamiya River. (End of Chapter)