I'm in another world, and I start out transformed into Lancelot.

The golden eyes no longer held the previous embarrassment and panic, but instead a gentleness, and an undeniable solemnity and a complex sadness when discussing the sword, as if they were mentioning something connected to a heavy past.

“It’s hard to ignore it,” Yuko nodded frankly, her gaze returning to Ame no Habakiri. “The golden lightning and purple power feel very unique.”

“Yes,” Susanoo replied in a calmer tone, without laughing as he had before, “it is indeed unique. This sword is called Ame no Habakiri, forged from my bones and the blood of the evil god Yamata no Orochi.”

He raised his hand and pointed at the divine sword, "Therefore, it carries the power of laws to dispel evil and annihilate concepts, and its power is especially outstanding against beings with divine status. It is a true sword that slays gods."

Yuko held her breath slightly. The fact that the weapon was forged from divine bones and the blood of an evil god was already incredibly impressive.

Susanoo nodded slightly, then turned his attention to the present, his tone calm yet weighty: "And now, it has been given a second duty—to be the most unshakeable divine cage." His golden eyes were fixed on the leaping lightning.

"A cage?" Yuko asked softly.

“Indeed.” Susanoo’s eyes deepened, as if gazing into a deep pool. His gaze was fixed on the lightning-wrapped sword, and his voice lowered, carrying a heavy weight of memories. “The being sealed within was… my brother Tsukuyomi.”

He used honorifics, and even after the truth was revealed, the sense of recognition that came from the long years still shone through in his every gesture.

“During the special period when Amaterasu and I, the chief of the war gods, disappeared from Takamagahara for a thousand years, he overstepped his bounds and attempted to usurp the throne of the God-King.” Susanoo paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, but his words did not directly accuse or insult her. “He took a seat in a position that did not belong to her with a false facade.”

Chapter 162 What will become of our Takamagahara...?

"Even after the truth was revealed, his disciple, Ara, the master of the Way of the Stars, still left the name Tsukuyomi to him out of gratitude for his former master."

At this point, Susanoo fell silent for a moment. This silence was not blank; rather, it contained a complex emotion.

There is a warning about being misled in the past, and a sense of regret for the one who was once respected as one of the Three Noble Sons.

Ultimately, all emotions were transformed into the unquestionable order and duty represented by the eternally pulsating lightning on the divine sword.

Sealing the seven evil gods, who cannot be killed, within a sword forged from his own flesh and blood, to prevent them from committing evil, is the very duty of the execution god.

“I see… It’s both a seal and a purification…” Yuko replied softly, seemingly lost in thought.

With divine bones as a cage, snake blood as a blade, lightning as a fence, and divine power as a boundary, this divine sword, pulsating with golden and purple light, has become a veritable divine prison.

The surging divine power and lightning, while binding and imprisoning, also continuously washed away and purified the emptiness and chaos that had arisen in the imprisoned due to their transgression.

Her gaze was fixed on the base of the sword, which was wreathed in lightning, as if she could see through the metal surface and “see” the imprisoned being named Tsukuyomi inside.

"Hmm. Let's go, Seimei should already be waiting for us in the main hall." Susanoo seemed unwilling to linger on this heavy topic, especially considering the upcoming ritual plan.

He tried to adjust his tone back to its original cheerfulness, but a trace of worry lingered deep in his eyes.

Yuko Narukami took one last look at the lightning-streaked Ame no Habakiri, gave a soft "hmm," and turned to walk deeper into the courtyard with Susanoo.

A god and a human, their figures gradually receding into the distance along the exquisite wooden corridor.

Just as Yuuko turned to leave, inside the Ame no Habakiri sword stuck in the ground, at the dark core where the blood of the Yamata no Orochi evil god and the will of the Tsukuyomi false god intersected.

A dim gray light flashed suddenly, as if startled from the deepest darkness, and then quickly faded away, as if it had never been there at all.

Only the swirling lightning and the occasional wisp of purple light continue their silent sealing duty.

The only sound in the air was the soft rustling of the ancient cherry tree in the breeze.

But what Yuko didn't tell Susanoo in detail was when Susanoo calmly pointed out the divine sword under the cherry tree deep in the courtyard.

When she heard, "It was forged from my bones and infused with the blood and marrow of the Yamata no Orochi," she felt a sudden, unexpected clench in her chest.

The throbbing pain came suddenly and sharply, as if something invisible had clenched her chest, followed by an indescribable sour feeling.

She instinctively clenched her hand beside her, her fingertips almost digging into her palm.

Why would this happen? She had only just met this execution god. Even the golden magatama that was thrown away was merely a whim of Susanoo, and so on.

A vague yet unsettling thought surfaced in her mind: Could it be that her own Izanagi resonated with this Izanagi?

In this world, Izanagi, as a father, felt the intense pain of forging that the child he had raised was enduring.

So that emotion belonging to the ancient creator god, like a faint ripple, was transmitted to her perception through this wondrous resonance.

This feeling was too bizarre, yet it inexplicably fit the logic of the ineffable connection between gods.

That sudden, unfamiliar sorrow didn't seem to originate entirely from her; rather, it was more like a silent echo.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

In the spring courtyard, sunlight is filtered through the branches into fine, golden fragments, falling onto the smooth wooden floor of the eaves.

Several paper cutout shikigami tiptoed over to the three people sitting around, carrying an ebony tray filled with delicate snacks and warm tea.

Narukami Yuko sat upright, her body kneeling in accordance with etiquette, her back straight like a newly sprouted bamboo.

With her eyes lowered, she nodded to her host, Abe no Seimei, and expressed her gratitude clearly: "Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Abe."

After speaking, she stretched out her delicate hand and gently picked up a small cherry blossom mochi, while holding up a white porcelain teacup with her other hand, her movements carrying a perfectly restrained elegance.

But deep within those eyes gazing at the colorful falling cherry blossoms in the courtyard, thoughts had already drifted away like petals in the wind to an unknown distance.

Was it about that dazzling figure, like the sunlight? Or about being forced into this inexplicable "awakening ritual"? A jumble of thoughts swirled in her mind.

Even Abe no Seimei, the renowned Onmyōji (yin-yang master) of Kyoto, showed a rare sign of fatigue today, a result of his busy schedule.

He picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and glanced at the empty space in the courtyard. "Originally, the acting God-King, His Highness Huang, should have been presiding over this place as well."

Seimei's voice was gentle, with a hint of barely perceptible helplessness, "Unfortunately, the mountain of official documents on Takamagahara is currently suffocating him."

He paused, his silvery hair fluttering gently in the breeze. The paper doll-like figure standing beside him cleverly refilled his teacup.

“The three noble children,” Seimei sighed softly, “one of them, Tsukuyomi, the teacher of Prince Ara, well, he is currently unable to attend to affairs.”

“The other one is still sleeping in the sun.” He looked at the boy listening quietly beside him with a hint of mockery, “And the remaining Martial God—” He deliberately dragged out the words.

The young martial god named, Susanoo, wore an elegant moon-white hunting robe, yet it could not conceal the sharpness and vigorous spirit between his brows.

Upon hearing Seimei mention him, a faint hint of embarrassment appeared on his previously calm face. "You flatter me," Susanoo said in a clear and strong voice, carrying the sincerity of a young man.

"To wield the power of a god-king and maintain the order of heaven and earth is not the forte of someone as unsophisticated as me who practices martial arts." His tone was sincere, without any attempt to evade responsibility or feign politeness.

"Government documents, the arrangement of stars, the seasons of rain and dew—just reading them once makes my head spin. If no one dares to shoulder such a heavy burden, who can?"

He shook his head slightly, a hint of sympathy even appearing in his eyes for the "True Tsukuyomi" who was processing mountains of files with an expressionless face.

"I imagine that right now, not even a breath of wind can get through Huang's desk." In his words, the young martial god displayed a humble self-awareness and consideration for his colleague's situation.

This is the esteemed Three Noblemen, the pillars of Takamagahara. A fake Tsukuyomi imprisoned, a sleeping Amaterasu, and a young martial god who considers himself only skilled in wielding swords.

Chapter 163 The Legendary Divine Dance

So all that could be done was to put the seemingly indifferent but inwardly wailing Shin Tsukuyomi Ara on the fire pit of the acting God King and roast him.

Yuko listened quietly, savoring her snacks without interrupting. She noticed that Susanoo would occasionally glance at her quickly and imperceptibly while speaking.

His gaze was complex, carrying a hint of inquiry and a touch of embarrassment at being teased by Seimei.

Perhaps there was also a subtle sense of closeness and bewilderment stemming from the faint, almost imperceptible, "similar aura to Izanagi" emanating from her, something he himself hadn't fully grasped.

A thought flickered in her mind: it seemed that this Martial God, though outwardly dignified and courteous, was far less calm inwardly than he appeared.

"Therefore, today, I will temporarily join Lord Susanoo to explain the situation to Miss Yuko." Seimei pulled everyone's thoughts back, his gaze falling on Yuko with a wise understanding of the world.

“Miss Yuko may be wondering why Seimei is so certain that you are a visitor from another world?” He unfolded the bat fan in his hand and gently tapped his forehead.

Yuko looked up at him with clear eyes, neither denying nor trying to hide anything.

Her awakening in this world was an accident, and her behavior and temperament were bound to be out of place, which could not be hidden from this great Yin-Yang Master.

A sly, fox-like smile flashed in Seimei's eyes as he pointed the tip of his fan at the lively and adorable little paper shikigami in the courtyard:

"Although Heian-kyo is a place where the remnants of the Age of Gods linger, it is not entirely isolated. Throughout history, we have seen a few rare visitors from that place."

He seemed to be lost in some kind of memory, "For example... the elusive young master who hides in the human world under an assumed name and commands a hundred ghosts at night; or the young Grim Reaper who wields a huge blade and whose spiritual power is as intense as a burning flame."

"There's also the demon slayer brother and sister who, along with their sister—who has a rather peculiar physique—travel around slaying demons using a unique breathing technique. They too have had brief encounters with this place."

"Though the time was short, like a fleeting shadow," Seimei said with a touch of sentimentality, "those moments of friendship—meeting, walking side by side, sharing drinks and laughter—were real."

"The wind in this courtyard, the stars and moon in this sky, and every wooden plank under the eaves silently remember those figures."

He looked at Yuko, his eyes full of understanding, "Your gaze, and the strange vibrations emanating from the threads of fate, are so similar to when they first arrived here."

"Guests from other worlds have never been a secret to Seimei."

These words were like a pebble thrown into still water, creating ripples in Yuko's heart.

Rikuo Nura... Ichigo Kurosaki... Tanjiro and Nezuko... the stories and worlds represented by these names have also intersected with this place.

The world is far broader and more inclusive than she imagined.

Abe no Seimei closed his folding fan with a soft "snap," as if summarizing his slightly scattered thoughts and refocusing the topic.

"To get back to the main point. Since Miss Yuuko has decided to stay and participate in the awakening ceremony, we are naturally extremely grateful. As for the current situation..."

He straightened up slightly, the ease in his tone fading, and a solemn undertone emerging.

"As everyone knows, the supreme being of this world, Lord Amaterasu, once fell into a deep slumber for some reason in ancient legends and hid in the Heavenly Rock Chamber."

Seimei spoke slowly, his voice clear and steady, "At that time, the world lost its light and fell into chaos and panic."

"It was Ame-no-Mikoto who displayed an unparalleled divine dance before Iwato, shaking the slumbering divine will and ultimately bringing the sun's radiance back to the earth."

Yuko's heart skipped a beat, recalling Susanoo's earlier mention of the "dangerous awakening ritual." At this moment, Seimei confirmed once again that awakening the slumbering Amaterasu was the ultimate goal of all their actions.

The key figure in awakening the gods is actually a dancer from the Age of Gods.

Seimei's next words cast a shadow over her heart: "However, times have changed." A solemn expression settled between his brows. "Ame-no-Mikoto has long since passed away, her divine essence reincarnated as Suzuhiko-hime... It's a pity..."

He shook his head slightly, with a hint of helplessness and regret: "Ringyan Princess is not yet able to fully inherit the vast divine power of her previous life, which was enough to awaken the sleeping gods."

"Even if we exert all our strength, it may be in vain, and we may even suffer a backlash from forcibly drawing on the power."

The news seemed to freeze the air in the corridor for a moment. Yuko frowned. The inheritance of the Divine Dance had been interrupted? Was the hope of awakening it so slim?

"Therefore, we have no choice but to send out invitations to the goddesses from all directions to come and help us."

"With the pure power and divine radiance gathered from the prayers of all the goddesses, the lack of Suzuhiko-hime's divine power is made up for, and the mission of the divine dance is completed in another form."

“But…” Seimei paused slightly, his gaze turning to the tightly closed moon gate in the courtyard, his eyes seemingly able to penetrate the gate and look out at the winding mountain road leading to Heian-kyo.

"The invited goddesses have not yet all arrived in Heian-kyo, either because of the long journey or because of their own divine duties. We will have to wait a little longer."

At this point, a huge mystery took shape in Yuuko's mind: Suzuhiko-hime's divine power was insufficient, requiring the combined power of other goddesses to summon her. But what about herself?

Where will Amaterasu, whose fate is inextricably linked to Seimei and Araguchi, be placed in this grand summoning ceremony? What role will she play?

She looked down at her human hands; sunlight streamed through her fingers, and she felt nothing special about them.

Abe no Seimei seemed to see through her question, and his eyes, which seemed to see right through people, looked gently at Yuko.

He didn't answer immediately, but instead slowly picked up his teacup again: "The time is not yet ripe, and the secrets of heaven are hard to fathom. Miss Yuko, you must be tired from your journey. Why not rest at my humble abode for a few days? Once all the goddesses have gathered, your place will naturally be revealed before you."

He lowered his voice, revealing a cunning quality typical of a great Onmyoji from Heian-kyo.

"Before that, why not try some of the tea that my little paper dolls have carefully prepared? The water they use is made from the essence of dew dripping from bamboo leaves under the moon, and it has quite a wonderful flavor."

Yuko knew that it would be futile to ask any further questions. If this great Onmyoji was determined to keep quiet, even the gods might not be able to pry him out.

She had no choice but to temporarily suppress the surging questions and vague unease in her heart, pick up the warm teacup again, and put the tea soup containing the taste of cool dew into her mouth.

A warmth flowed into her stomach, but it couldn't suppress the turbulent emotions surging within her. She needed time to sort out her thoughts:

From the enchanting and ambiguous relationship with Amaterasu at the hot springs to the current situation, from the world-destroying creator goddess to the seemingly calm yet turbulent Heian-kyo...

When will the sun inside the Heavenly Rock House shine again on this mythical world that holds countless secrets?

Chapter 164 The False Moon Appears

As night fell over Heian-kyo, the courtyard of Abe no Seimei's residence was immersed in tranquility.

Unlike the bustling crowds of the daytime, only the chirping of insects and the soft rustling of the wind through the bamboo grove remain. The moonlight, like a thin veil, falls silently.

In a corner of the courtyard, Ame no Habakiri stood, its exposed hilt reflecting the cold light of metal and some strange material under the moonlight.

The moonlight flowed silently over the sword, as if awakening a dormant, cold, and forbidden power within it.

Yuko Narukami was arranged to rest in a Japanese-style room with a view of the courtyard.