The Roar of Modern Firepower

Deep within the Aokigahara Sea of Trees lay the source of a terrifying death curse.

In the middle of that dense forest, littered with remains, a towering tree yokai let out a roar of primal fury. Its roots and vines writhed like frantic tentacles. Guided by the tree’s power, the surrounding Yin Qi gathered with bone-chilling intensity, extinguishing the raging fires clinging to its bark. However, the strike from the missile had already claimed nearly a third of its body. Its once-lush foliage had been reduced to ash, leaving only charred, blackened wood.

The tree yokai’s invisible curses had failed against the iron birds; instead, it had been the one subjected to their assault. In the centuries since it had gained sentience and become a yokai, this was the first time it had sustained such a devastating blow. A pain it had never known tore through its consciousness, and that pain quickly curdled into pure hatred. It cast its most potent curses toward the iron birds in the heavens, desperate to bring them crashing down, but its efforts remained as futile as before.

Confusion mingled with the tree’s resentment. It could not fathom how beings that completely ignored its curses could exist in this world. Since its sorcery was ineffective, the tree yokai swung its long vine-whips, attempting to strike the iron birds down physically. Yet, the vines—stretching less than a thousand meters—could not even graze the mechanical predators hovering several kilometers above in the high sky.

With a grotesque sound, the massive trunk split open vertically, revealing countless giant mouths filled with jagged fangs and blood-red eyes. The entire trunk began to twist violently. Thick roots tore themselves from the earth, transforming into literal tentacles that supported the tree’s colossal frame. Using this dense network of roots, the tree yokai forced itself to "stand" upright.

The mouths lining its trunk emitted a synchronized, ear-piercing shriek that echoed through the entire sea of trees. Responding to this horrific call, countless ghosts crawled out from the earth. These were the Changguai—the spirits of those the tree had consumed. A raspy, collective voice emerged from the mouths on the tree’s body. It had reached a realization: the iron birds attacking it were undoubtedly human creations. If it could not harm the birds, it would settle for direct revenge against the humans themselves.

By uprooting itself and summoning its Changguai, the tree yokai intended to march out of the forest and assault human cities. Rather than waiting here to be a target, it would take the fight to them. The tree yokai crawled forward on its writhing roots, desperate to find a human settlement where it could vent its fury in a massacre.

It had not moved far before it froze. Its broad-range perception had detected more objects flying into its domain. These were different from the iron birds before—there were many of them, and they were moving with incredible speed! A speed the tree yokai could not even imagine. The moment it perceived them, the air far above filled with a shrill, approaching whistle.

Alarm bells rang in the tree’s mind. It lashed out wildly with its vine-whips toward the approaching threat. It attempted to replicate its earlier success against the drone’s missile, weaving hundreds of vines into a high-speed, dense defensive net to intercept whatever was coming.

However, what struck this time were not air-to-ground missiles. They were artillery shells—greater in number, smaller in size, and moving at several times the speed of sound. A missile might be intercepted with effort, but try intercepting a cannon shell.

Launched from an artillery battery dozens of kilometers away, a dense barrage of fire poured down directly upon the tree yokai’s defensive vines. The hyper-velocity shells easily punched through the net, falling like lethal rain upon the tree’s body and the ground around it. Bolstered by the power of faith, the shells had traversed a vast distance to strike their designated coordinates with unerring accuracy.

Violent explosions erupted in rapid succession. Blazing red lotuses of fire bloomed across the landscape. The tree yokai, which had just uprooted itself for revenge, was swallowed by the flames along with its army of Changguai. Its mournful wails were completely drowned out by the thunderous roar of the bombardment. Its massive body was torn asunder by the continuous blasts. The countless Changguai were obliterated before they even had time to react.

As the fire subsided and the smoke cleared, the once-dense forest had been transformed into a cratered wasteland. On the scorched earth, the terrifying Changguai were nowhere to be seen. Beside a fragment of the tree’s remains, a single tiny vine struggled to crawl like a worm. It dug frantically into the dirt, desperate to flee this place of slaughter.

Run! It had to run! All thoughts of revenge had vanished from the tiny remnant of the tree yokai, replaced entirely by paralyzing terror. Having experienced the horror of the bombardment, the twisted bit of wood strained to burrow into the ground.

Over the centuries, the tree yokai had faced many powerful human Onmyoji and monks. It had seen many formidable spells. It knew that the more powerful a human’s spell, the longer it took to prepare, and the longer the caster remained weakened afterward. The magic it had just witnessed was the most powerful it had ever seen. In its mind, the humans who cast such a spell would surely need a very long time to recover and prepare again. It believed it had plenty of time to escape.

With that thought, the worm-like vine managed to submerge half of its body into the soil. But then, the familiar whistling sound returned from the horizon. Hearing it, the tree yokai’s heart filled with absolute despair.

As the red lotuses of fire bloomed once more, a final, lingering confusion flickered in the tree’s fading consciousness. It could not understand how humans were capable of unleashing such devastating, large-scale "spells" so rapidly.

Outside the Aokigahara Sea of Trees, on a vacant hilltop far away, the artillery battery let out a continuous series of roars. Paper Shikigami moved with disciplined efficiency across the site, tirelessly reloading and firing. The barrels spat tongues of flame as they consumed ammunition. Under the command of the miko, the battery poured volley after volley toward the distant target.

"Fire!"

Clad in her red and white miko outfit, Miko waved her gohei, directing the rounds of fire. Her expression held a hint of feverish excitement amidst the deafening thuds of the cannons. Yura, watching from the side, swallowed hard and instinctively took two steps back.

Holding a walkie-talkie, Yura waited for a break in the firing to speak to the clearly over-excited Miko. "The target signal has disappeared. The life force of the tree yokai has been completely extinguished."

Miko blinked, her enthusiasm cooling slightly. "Oh... Is it over already? It was a bit of a letdown..."

Yura saw the clear disappointment on Miko's face and wondered if the girl was becoming a bit of a fire-control addict.

"Still," Miko continued, looking at the smoke rising in the distance, "this is quite efficient."

Yura nodded and looked toward where the artillery was aimed, unable to hide her awe. "It really is powerful... Inari’s modernized demon-slaying weapons. To completely eliminate a threat without even seeing it... it's so safe. No one has to risk their life. If we Onmyoji had tried to subjugate a yokai of that caliber through traditional means, the sacrifices would have been immense."

"Huh? Is that so?" Miko asked. "Can't you Onmyoji do this too? The Onmyo Agency is a government body, right? Surely you can get your hands on planes and cannons."

"It’s not that simple," Yura said, spreading her hands. "The spirit tool spiritualization of modern weaponry is extremely difficult. The simpler a weapon’s structure, the easier it is to convert. That’s why most demon-slaying tools are cold weapons. Modern weapons are far too complex, and the difficulty of spiritualization is astronomical. In this field, Inari’s technology is unrivaled."

She paused, her expression turning serious. "Furthermore, because the Onmyo Agency is a government institution, it is strictly regulated. By definition, the Onmyo Agency is similar to the Metropolitan Police Department. Therefore, the function of an Onmyoji is more akin to a police officer."

Miko stared, beginning to realize the true nature of the organization she had joined.

'Unrivaled technology... independent of the government... is it really that exaggerated?' she thought blankly. 'I thought it was just a nationwide chain of shrines... just what kind of organization is Inari?'

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "...Well, never mind all that for now. I should report the situation to Lord Inaba."