108 The Vanishing Mokona

“Kurama!! Mokona!!!”

Watching his dear friend and his beloved little white fluff disappear into the swirling vortex of spatial energy created by the intruders’ attack, the count’s usually calm and serene handsome face momentarily went blank. Immediately, everyone present—including the leader of the attackers who had invaded the pet shop, the powerful youkai exterminator Shizuo Jō of the Jō clan—seemed to have their senses abruptly frozen by something intangible.

They could only helplessly watch as the seemingly frail, black-haired young man slowly raised his arm and, with a gentle push of his palm...

A tremendous force suddenly surged forth, slamming everyone violently against the pet shop’s tough walls.

“So… this is why I despise humans.”

The black-haired beauty, who had previously appeared ordinary except for his heterochromatic eyes and exquisitely refined features, now radiated a terrifying aura that even a seasoned youkai hunter like Shizuo Jō found bone-chilling.

“Aten,” the count called out coldly, turning his gaze amidst the alarmed and wary stares of the youkai hunters.

The nine-tailed fox youth, who had already wiped the usual carefree smile off his face, stepped forward promptly.

“I understand, Count,” he replied.

Without further orders from the count, the nine-tailed fox, skilled not only in illusions but also in piercing the hearts of others, mercilessly unleashed his talent on the “useless” ones, the youkai hunters pinned helplessly against the wall.

The count stood silently nearby, his icy expression unreadable. His indifferent gaze swept across the group, and one by one, the hunters—deeply trapped within the nine-tailed fox’s illusions and soul-searching techniques, and thus unresponsive to the outside world—shuddered simultaneously in a heavy stupor.

“Count, I’ve found the full text of ‘City of Sin’,” Aten said solemnly, his tone far more serious than usual in such a critical moment.

“These people are not here for Kurama. They belong to an organization called the Exorcists’ Association. Due to their allegiance to the Jō clan head, they are respectfully known among exorcists as the Jō faction.”

“The one in the middle, whose face was half destroyed by backlash—that’s their leader. He claims to be human, but in my eyes, his heart is probably darker than many youkai.”

“His thoughts and methods are far more sinister and devious than those foolish youkai. And yet he has the audacity to believe that exterminating youkai is maintaining world peace?”

Aten’s sharp tongue was fully unleashed, showing no kindness to these exorcists who had harmed Kurama, someone he considered half kin.

Though the count’s expression remained cool and seemingly unchanged, those familiar with him could easily sense that he was on the verge of an outburst. Aten chose not to fan the flames any further.

“This operation was likely an accident. These people somehow learned about our pet shop. Their ‘lord’ apparently thinks you, Count, are a notorious criminal who secretly links youkai to human society, attempting to help them blend in unnoticed but always bungling things. So, they prepared and came ‘openly’ with troops to attack.”

“Unfortunately, they arrived just as Kurama and Mokona were about to leave. They had little information on Kurama, but because he seemed to have some acquaintance with a boy named Natsume—whom their ‘lord’ fears—they dispatched half their forces to attack Kurama’s group.”

“Although these half-baked exorcists used only ordinary spells, the timing coincided with the most critical moment of Mokona and Kurama’s space-time jump.”

“Their interference inevitably affected the process. Mokona was struck by the spell’s power, and as the core of the space-time jump, if he were severely injured…”

It wasn’t just about this single journey for Kurama and Mokona; without protection, they might be shattered in the chaotic currents of space-time. The outcome was uncertain.

Aten faltered mid-sentence. He had only known Kurama for a short time, but as a fellow fox spirit, he felt a deep concern. If Aten himself was saddened, how much more grief and rage would Kurama’s close friend, the count, be feeling?

Aten didn’t want to dwell on it.

Unexpectedly, the count did not explode in anger on the spot. He merely closed his eyes tightly and stood alone for a long while amid the wreckage of the pet shop. Finally, he whispered hoarsely:

“Prepare yourselves. We’re going… to the Ark.”

—What? Were they about to leave this world?

Aten wanted to ask more, but seeing the count’s pale face, he held back.

“I understand. I’ll gather everyone immediately,” he said softly before turning and running down the endless corridor leading to countless rare creatures’ habitats.

The count remained behind, staring at the youkai hunters still unconscious and trapped against the wall. After a long moment, he sighed deeply, then stepped onto the massive Ark already filled with the shop’s animals.

***

“Mokona, the last demon hunter!!!!”

The moment Kurama regained consciousness from the darkness, he shot upright, loudly calling his beloved white fluff’s name.

But this time, the usually responsive and ever-faithful little creature remained silent.

Ignoring the internal warnings from his battered body battered by the intense spatial forces, Kurama struggled to stand and search for the small figure. Only then was he gently but firmly restrained by a pair of strong hands on his shoulders.

“My lord,” came a familiar, deep voice.

Kurama turned his head in confusion, his blurred vision gradually clearing to reveal the handsome, concerned face of his loyal spirit.

Perhaps because his sight wasn’t fully restored, Kurama felt the spirit’s form seemed somewhat ethereal, flickering—not as solid and vivid as the last time they met.

“Diarmuid…?”

Relief flickered in the spirit’s eyes.

“You have regained consciousness?”

Speaking softly, he supported Kurama’s unsteady body, preventing him from collapsing.

At that moment, Kurama noticed that the hand at his waist was chillingly cold.

How could this be? His hazy mind wrestled with the sensation. Even when bound by the Holy Grail’s power, the materialized Diarmuid had always maintained a normal human body temperature.

Why was he so cold now?

He wanted to ask but was stopped by the gentle expression and disapproving look in the lancer’s eyes.

“My lord, you suffered a severe impact in the chaotic space-time vortex. Although Mokona barely held on to the edge of this world, the earlier attack caused him to fail in maintaining the barrier. You were briefly swept into the space-time channel and nearly gravely injured.”

“Fortunately, I sensed the danger and woke in time to guide you safely into this realm.”

“I apologize for not detecting the crisis sooner, allowing injury to both you and Mokona. But please remain calm. Although the barrier’s rejection of foreign entry separated us and I couldn’t stop Mokona from being thrown elsewhere, he was not severely hurt. With his abilities, he should protect himself until you find him. So please, do not rush—take care of yourself first.”

The lancer’s voice was calm and soothing, easing Kurama’s anxiety over Mokona’s disappearance. By the end of his explanation, Kurama had regained his usual rational composure.

“Diarmuid, you…”

Upon learning that it was the lancer who had intervened during the crisis to protect both him and Mokona, Kurama suddenly understood—no wonder his hand had been so cold.

“Shh, please don’t worry about me, my lord.”

Seeing the concern etched on Kurama’s face, the handsome spirit smiled faintly.

“I never knew when I would awaken from this slumber. As your servant, unable to always protect you, and having failed to prevent your suffering from others’ vile schemes, it is my fault.”

“If I can exchange more days of sleep to ensure your and Mokona’s safety, no matter how long it takes or what the cost, I would gladly do so.”

“As long as you… remain safe.”

His gentle expression wavered like a reflection on water. Diarmuid’s face faltered, and a faint bitter smile appeared.

“Forgive me, my lord. It seems the time has come for me to return to slumber.”

“I deeply regret not being able to protect you, especially when you needed me most.”

The black-haired spirit closed his eyes and, at the very end, managed a soft smile for Kurama.

“But do not worry. I have also protected the two shikigami by your side. One of them seems to have disappeared with Mokona to the other side of the world.”

“They were not severely affected by the space-time forces. With them by your side, I can rest a little easier.”

“Forgive me… Lord Kurama…”

With a nearly inaudible whisper, the lancer’s form dissolved into countless shards of light, flying into the miniature spirit throne at Kurama’s chest.

Kurama, losing his support, was about to collapse but was caught in a warm embrace imbued with the fresh scent of snow. Lifting his eyes, he met the clear ice-blue gaze of Genna.

“Master, are you alright?”

Kurama closed his eyes and, upon reopening them, returned a gentle smile full of reassurance to the worried rabbit-eared youth.

“Yes. I’m feeling much better now, Genna.”

Fortunately, before leaving the previous world, he had exchanged most of his Philosopher’s Stones for over ten percent of his youkai power from Yuko. Now he had nearly recovered eighty percent of his strength. Otherwise—

Thinking of the Philosopher’s Stones brought to mind various considerations: their value far exceeded initial expectations, and he didn’t need to use them all to regain some youkai power from Yuko; as someone who had mastered some alchemy, he knew they could sometimes unleash power rivaling that of archangels. Thus, Kurama chose not to exhaust all his stones, keeping a dozen or so in reserve.

The fox spirit immediately opened his spatial pouch and pulled out a Philosopher’s Stone, somewhat unskillfully beginning to use alchemy to heal his wounds.

Of course, injuries from the space-time shock were not so easily mended. Even a miraculous Philosopher’s Stone couldn’t instantly restore all his damage unless he sacrificed a large part of his reserves.

With the heavy responsibility of finding Mokona and Midori, and being new to this unfamiliar world, Kurama couldn’t afford to waste his trump cards all at once.

Once most of the injuries affecting his power were healed or eased, Kurama stopped and finally stood steadily without relying on Genna’s strength. He then raised his eyes to survey his surroundings.

“...!!!”

What he saw stunned him.

A dim sky, devoid of any light.

A barren, rocky land covered with sand and without a single blade of grass.

And not far off, numerous black dots—some large, some small—that seemed to be moving creatures.

—Where on earth was this place?