I loaded the geek game

Time flies like an arrow.

More than six years have passed since Ashiya Dōman first met Suzuhiko-hime at the Jizō-dō in Hakata Minato.

It's another evening.

Deep within the land of Hida, in a mountain valley where reality and the ordinary world are blurred and ambiguous.

The forest clearing was bathed in the thick, honey-like sunlight of the setting sun.

Several wisps of blue ghostly flames floated leisurely, sometimes gathering into a ball of light, sometimes scattering like fireflies, chasing after invisible dust particles in the air, emitting extremely faint crackling sounds like candle wicks popping, adding a touch of lovely liveliness to the tranquility of the place.

An ancient Tang Dynasty umbrella spirit, its canopy painted with faded peonies, leaned lazily against the gnarled roots of an old red pine. The tip of the umbrella touched the ground at an angle, and the ribs opened and closed very slightly with the rhythm of its "breathing." Occasionally, pine needles would drift down onto it, only to be caught by the faint, ethereal aura and slowly slide off.

Further away, beneath the shadows of the trees, a chipped ancient bowl can be vaguely seen slowly collecting dew; on an old tree stump, a moss-covered stone lantern silently emits a hazy internal light.

Suzuhiko-hime stood quietly beneath a giant five-needle pine, her red dress fluttering slightly in the rising mountain mist. She silently watched the low-ranking tsukumogami moving about peacefully, her eerie red eyes reflecting a warm light, her icy expression seemingly softened by the twilight atmosphere, revealing a faint sense of tranquility.

Footsteps came from behind, neither hurried nor slow.

Ashiya Dōman walked over.

Six years have passed. The naive young man who once tried to swindle people out of two salted fish at the Hakata docks has now developed a more mature and composed demeanor, honed by the trials of life, and his posture has become more upright. However, the shrewdness of a street urchin and the slick, unruly nature that gleamed in his eyes remain etched into his very being, never fading away.

Daoman held a bunch of freshly picked wildflowers in his hands—

A few pale yellow white mountain flutes, several clumps of pale purple rock bellflowers, occasionally dotted with tiny white flowers of *Primulina maculata*, and a few patches of emerald green *Lycopodium clavatum* as a backdrop, create a wild and vibrant scene.

"Here, this is for you, little bell!" Daoman grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, and handed the bouquet to Suzuhiko-hime. "I just picked it by the mountain stream, isn't it beautiful? It suits you perfectly!"

Over time, his way of addressing Suzuhiko-hime, the goddess of Kunitsu, had become so casual as to be almost offensive.

Upon hearing this, Suzuhiko glanced at him with her crimson eyes. The tranquility she had just felt was instantly replaced by a familiar helplessness, and her cold voice rang out: "Don't call me that."

But as soon as she finished speaking, she reached out and naturally took the bouquet of wildflowers that Daoman offered.

The movements were fluid and without the slightest hesitation, as if similar scenes had occurred countless times over the past six years.

The moment Daoman appeared, the surrounding air seemed to come alive.

Rustling, rustling.

The tsukumogami, who had been peacefully going about their business, all gathered together.

A ghostly, bluish-green flame flickered closer, gently brushing against his shoulder; the Tang umbrella spirit leaning against the pine tree abandoned its laziness, its single eye under the handle turning as it "looked" at him. More tiny, varied lights emerged from behind rocks, among grass, and on treetops, surrounding Daoman with curiosity and joy.

The "little monsters" here all seem to like and love him very much.

"Oh my...you all look so energetic today!"

Daoman laughed, his tone familiar, and reached out to let the most lively will-o'-the-wisp circle around his wrist, then gently patted the surface of the Tang umbrella spirit's umbrella.

Rustling...Russling...

The spirits emitted subtle, resonant sounds, conveying vague yet joyful thoughts.

"Ah...ah...you mean, you want me to name this place?" Daoman first listened attentively, then looked around the mountain valley shrouded in twilight, where the tsukumogami resided. "Yes, such a beautiful place shouldn't be without a name. How about this—in my opinion, let's call it Tsukumogami Village!"

As soon as the words "Tsukumogami Village" were uttered, the surrounding Tsukumogami seemed to fall silent for a moment. Immediately afterward, the various rustling sounds and flickering lights became even more cheerful.

Suzuhiko stood quietly to the side, watching Doman being affectionately surrounded by all sorts of tsukumogami as he busily named the place. The curve of her lips seemed to soften almost imperceptibly for a moment.

Then she lowered her head slightly, her crimson eyes gazing at the cluster of vibrant wildflowers in her arms, and the flame-shaped cloud pattern on her forehead seemed to appear a little warmer in the twilight light.

……

Suzuhiko arrived at a simple thatched hut built against a giant rock deep in the mountain valley.

Pushing open the slightly ajar door, the air was filled with the subtle scents of sandalwood, minerals, and spiritual energy. There was no stove or bed; instead, the walls were adorned with numerous exquisitely crafted prototypes and unfinished pieces, and the floor was displayed. An unfinished jade pendant glowed warmly in the dim light, several fine metal wires weaving intricate patterns in mid-air…

In the corner leaned a shamisen, a biwa, and a koto. All three instruments were already imbued with demonic energy and would likely become tsukumogami in the future.

This is the workshop of Suzuhiko-hime and Doman's old friend, Tianjin Mara.

Tianjin Mara is a follower of the Jinshan Bigu God and is hailed as the source of divine craftsmanship. He is also a very special national god.

It has no fixed form or gender; it is the collective consciousness of all artisans throughout history who possessed exceptional skills, formed from their obsessions and wisdom after death. Whether they are renowned human craftsmen or skillful demons, they can all be regarded as "believers" under its general consciousness.

At this moment, what Tianjin Maro presented to Suzuhiko-hime was the appearance of a demon craftsman with a body as large as a small mountain, bulging muscles, and indigo skin.

He was using two of his four arms to hold a huge carving knife, outlining intricate patterns that were indistinguishable to the naked eye on a strange material that was neither gold nor jade.

Sparks flew silently from the tip of the knife.

"Suzumi." Azumi Mara's deep, resonant voice echoed in the room, carrying a metallic resonance. "Where is Doman? Why didn't he come today?"

"I was tripped up by the spirits on the road."

Suzuhiko-hime stepped into the room, her bare feet treading on the smooth, mirror-like floor, her skirt spotless.

"He is indeed the one you chose." Tianjin Maro didn't look up, his four arms still steadily manipulating the carving knife and the spirit fire. "The little monsters here who are under your protection all like him very much."

“He’s nothing but an idiot.” Suzuhiko’s voice was clear and crisp, like a mountain stream striking a rock.

"Perhaps." Tianjin Maro did not refute, a gentle light flowing in his molten gold eyes. "That kid is clever at heart, with all the shrewdness honed in the streets and alleys—he's tempted by profit, and knows how to maneuver in dangerous situations..."

He paused deliberately, raised his massive head, and his gaze fell upon Suzuhiko-hime. A smile, devoid of any ferocity but instead revealing understanding and amusement, spread across the demon's lips:
"When you see someone beautiful... you can't take your eyes off them."

Suzuhiko-hime was walking towards a semi-transparent, floating stone platform, gazing at its intricately designed structure that disassembled and reassembled on its own. Upon hearing this, she didn't turn around, but her crimson eyes flickered slightly.

“But he already has the qualities to become a king.” Her voice suddenly rang out, a beat faster than usual, as if she was in a hurry to correct something.

“Heh…you’re getting better and better at speaking up for him.” Tianjin Maro’s deep laughter echoed in the workshop, and a gentle, elder-like light appeared in his molten gold eyes. “I didn’t mean to belittle Daoman. I just wanted to say that Daoman has the lovable qualities of a human being. Not only the little creatures here, but I also like him very much.”

Suzuhiko-hime did not respond to the teasing.

She stood still for a moment, until the faint sound of spiritual energy flowing within the workshop could be heard clearly again, before speaking once more, her voice regaining its usual cool and calm tone:

"How is the Cloud Mirror?"

Upon hearing this, Tianjin Maro's smile faded slightly, and he slowly lowered his tools with all four arms. At that moment, all the nascent, floating objects in the room came to a complete stop.

Tianjin Maruo extended a thick finger and gently touched the empty space in front of him.

Zheng——

A faint bronze glow rippled from his fingertip, quickly spreading and solidifying into an exquisite pendant.

The bronze chain is simple and unadorned, holding a double-sided bronze mirror that is no bigger than the palm of your hand, yet its intricate carvings are dazzling.

This mirror has a strange shape. Both sides are smooth mirror surfaces, but the mirror surfaces are not still. Inside, it seems as if dark spring water is slowly rippling, with light and shadow flowing within it, and the bottom is unfathomable.

"Suzumi, about our previous plan—"

Tianjin Maro held the Cloud Mirror in his hand, his voice echoing in the still workshop, carrying a metallic quality and obvious solemnity: "Using the Cloud Mirror's dual-world properties to directly and forcibly 'pull' out the Takamagahara Shrine lost in the void... I'm afraid it's not feasible. We've... oversimplified things."

"What about the original method?" Suzuhiko's voice remained unchanged, but her crimson eyes were fixed on the Cloud Mirror, which shimmered with an eerie light. "I can feel that Lady Tengen-no-Mikoto's summons is becoming clearer and clearer. Furthermore..."

The flame-shaped cloud pattern on her forehead glowed faintly.

"The seal on the Yellow Springs has begun to loosen. We... cannot sit idly by and wait for our doom."

Suzuhiko-hime is a follower of Ame-no-Tsurugi-no-Mikoto.

Since Izanagi's fall and the throne of the gods left vacant, the ownerless Takamagahara Shrine has been completely lost in the void, drifting aimlessly.

But the only certainty is that the noble goddess who presides over sacrifices, dances, and divine music—Ame-no-Tsurugi—still slumbers deep within the shrine.

The faint connection between Suzuhiko-hime and the chief god, transcending the void, is the only coordinate for finding the lost shrine. Her mission, besides assisting the chosen new ruler in ascending to the throne, is more importantly to reclaim Takamagahara.

"The original method..."

Tianjin Maro remained silent for a moment, then raised his other hand, palm facing upward. A sliver of light gathered and quickly solidified into a seemingly ordinary wooden tablet, yet radiating a pure, divine aura. The tablet's surface was smooth and blank.

“The divine box.” Tianjin Maro’s tone was slow. “One piece is not enough. Ten pieces are not enough either… We need many, a great many. Use them as anchors to drive them deep into the key nodes of the divine palace’s drifting trajectory, forcibly anchoring its position and preventing it from sliding back into nothingness again.”

Compared to the trick of using the outer mirror, the method of the divine box is theoretically feasible.

However, since the Takamagahara Shrine was still in the void, one of the core materials for making the shrine was Suzuhiko-hime's blood essence—the source of her divinity that connected her to Ame-no-Tsurugi-no-Mikoto.

Tianjin Maro's eyes were fixed on Suzuhime, and his massive demon body seemed to grow heavier.

"We... are ultimately just Kunitsu gods." His voice revealed a rare weariness and heaviness. "To anchor ourselves to such a grand existence... just by creating this prototype of the divine casket before me, I can feel that many of the obsessions and memories belonging to the top craftsmen of past generations in my consciousness have begun to stir and backfire, becoming uncontrollable."

The price to pay for reclaiming the Takamagahara Shrine far exceeds that of ordinary divine matters.

Silence, like viscous deep water, permeated the stagnant workshop. Only in the dark depths of the Cloud Mirror, light and shadow still flowed silently, reflecting two equally solemn faces.

After a long silence, Suzuhiko spoke again, her voice clear and cold, breaking the stillness: "Even if I eventually cease to exist, and Daoman ascends to the throne of God, he will still need a divine shaman who can communicate with the heavens and wield divine rites."

She raised the golden bell staff in her hand, the huge and majestic magic weapon tilting slightly in her palm, emitting a metallic tremor that was almost a sigh.

“This bell has a deep connection with him.” She gazed at the giant bell on the end of the staff. “Tianjin Maro, I need your help—to perform a rite of mourning for the bell.”

Tianjin Maro's enormous demon body slowly straightened up, neither asking questions nor offering any dissuasion regarding his old friend's suggestion.

“Suzumi.” Her voice regained its composure. “Retrieving Takamagahara is also my mission. I have already… made all the preparations. If it really comes to that… if my consciousness completely loses control due to the backlash, I hope that you and Doman can seal me into that giant rock beneath Hida Tenkabe Peak.”

The location of the Hida Rock mentioned by Tianjin Maro is where Kinzan Hiko-no-Kami, who perished in the battle between Takamagahara and Yomi-no-Kami, is buried.

"I want to be closer to the ancestral gods."

Suzuhiko-hime remained silent.

She didn't say "it won't come to that," nor did she offer any empty words of comfort. A glint flashed in her crimson eyes, and in the end, she simply nodded calmly and solemnly.

Both she and Tianjin Mara were deities born from ancient missions and rules. They were rational enough, clear-headed enough, to know the weight they bore. Compared to the fate of the entire Izumo world, and the lost throne of the High God, their small sacrifices might seem insignificant.

“Suzumi, we both have missions… but what about Doman? What is he seeking?” Amatsu Mara spoke again. “Aren’t you going to tell him? He… is working very hard, and this is cruel to him.”

Suzuhiko's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.

“I will help him ascend the throne of the heavens.” After a moment, she spoke again, her voice even lower than before, with an almost resolute determination, “Daoman… has the capacity to become a king.”

At that time, Suzuhiko-hime was clear about her mission. However, as merely a Kunitsu-gami, she did not understand the other true meaning hidden behind the "Seat of the Lord of Demons and Gods" left by Izanagi.

She simply believed that the person she had chosen would become the new king who would rule the heavens above Izumo.

Suzuhiko was so convinced of this, but as she spoke, the flame cloud pattern on her forehead, which symbolized divinity and power, dimmed and became unusually fragile.

……

The hillsides of Fusang Township were gently covered by the night, and the scent of the daytime sunlight lingered among the grass blades, blending with the coolness of the night dew.

Ashiya Dōman lay casually on the soft grass, his hands behind his head, gazing at the dazzling starry sky above. Suzuhiko-hime sat quietly beside him, her red dress like a silent flame burning in the darkness.

“Little Bell.” Daoman suddenly spoke, his voice devoid of the daytime’s slickness and clamor, carrying the tranquility of a night breeze, “When I returned to Fusang Village this time, I always felt… that you seemed to have something on your mind.”

Suzuhiko-hime did not reply, but simply turned her head slightly, gazing at the distant mountain silhouettes that had sunk into darkness.

Daoman wasn't in a hurry. He continued gazing at the starry sky, speaking to himself in a relaxed tone, yet each word was clear: "You need to learn to rest too, right? Stop talking about those terrifying missions of saving the world and finding the divine palace all the time. Even gods need to catch their breath, don't they?"

“Learn from me, enjoy the moment… um… but don’t worry, I’m just taking a break. Tomorrow, I’ll be even better, and then I’ll deal with those enemies who stand in our way. Whether they are demons or monsters, or even formidable gods… look, even Hiruko and Yaobikuni were dealt with by us, although not by beating them, but… that’s called outsmarting them.”

When Daoman mentioned his recent "glorious deeds" of "outwitting" the leeches and Yaobikuni, his eyebrows danced with excitement. That familiar air of shrewdness mixed with youthful pride resurfaced, as if his composure just now was merely an illusion under the cover of night.

"Doman." Suzuhiko finally spoke, but her voice did not continue his boastful topic; instead, it drifted to a more distant and ethereal place.

She tilted her head slightly, gazing at the vast and dazzling Milky Way above, her gaze seemingly trying to pierce through those cold points of light and reach a deeper, more unreachable place.

"What do you think... the divine palace high in the heavens would look like?"

"Hmm?" Daoman was somewhat surprised by this sudden question.

Suzuhiko-hime continued gazing at the starry sky, her voice very soft:
“I am the god of the land. Most of the gods on earth want to see with their own eyes what the heavenly abode is like.”

Daoman turned his head to look at Suzuhiko's profile, outlined by starlight, half-lit and half-shadowed. That touch of red stood out, both lonely and dazzling, against the deep blue night sky. He suddenly grinned, his tone light:

“Then let’s go see it together. You, me, oh right, we also need to bring Tianjin Maro. I also want to see what kind of amazing place those legendary, high and mighty Tianjin gods live in.”

As usual, when talking about the once-powerful gods of Tianjin, most of whom have long since perished, there was no reverence in his words.

Suzuhiko-hime fell silent again.

A night breeze swept by, ruffling a few strands of hair by her cheek and tousling the unruly bangs across her forehead. In the grass, unknown summer insects began to chirp softly.

"Dōman," Suzuhiko-hime spoke again, this time turning her face to look directly at Ashiya Dōman. Her tone was less cold than usual, carrying a hint of indescribable emotion, "Have you... really thought about why you wanted to ascend to the throne of Takamagahara?"

"This..."

Upon hearing this, Daoman did not answer immediately.

He remained lying on his back, but slowly closed his eyes, a lazy and playful smile curving his lips as usual.

"Hehe, is that even a question? Of course, it's to become the ruler of all gods and spirits, to be awe-inspiring in all directions, and then..."

He drew out his words, deliberately paused, and spoke in a lighthearted tone that was hard to tell whether it was playful or serious:
"In grand style, he married a peerless goddess."

As soon as he finished speaking, only the sound of the wind and the chirping of insects remained on the hillside.

Suzuhiko's lips moved almost imperceptibly, as if she wanted to say something, but ultimately no sound came out. All the words that welled up in her mouth ultimately turned into a very faint yet very familiar sigh:

"Idiot..."

This time, she spoke so softly that her voice was almost carried away by the night breeze.

The moment she finished speaking, her body trembled almost imperceptibly.

Then, Suzuhiko looked up again and gazed at the sky.

The countless glittering stars seemed to suddenly lose their support, cascading down with a "whoosh" and falling into her crimson eyes. (End of Chapter)