༺ ✿  “Ꭾυρρєт мαsтєя?” Çσℓιη
repeated, a new spark of fear in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Shin is right,” Min said, her brow creased in fret. “Someone was controlling these…dolls. Winding them up. Who? And where is he now?”

“Erm…” Brian mumbled, scratching his head.

“We are here.”

The six comrades gasped and wheeled around toward the open door of the throne room. The voice — or rather, voices — that had responded to Min's query, were deep, forceful, and decidedly masculine. Like a large mob of angry men. Yet, standing before them in the center of the candle-lit room, was a single young woman. By appearance she was only twenty or so in years, slender in build, and adorned in a shimmering golden kimono with a long train and a huge, intricate bow resting at the small of her back.

The woman gazed up at the stunned group of friends and smiled a regal and glorious smile.

“Sorry, uh...Miss,” Colin hemmed. “Who are you?”

“We are the puppet masters!” the woman said. Or rather, her mouth opened and the words were spoken. Again, the answer was provided by what sounded like countless savage men shouting.

Madeline trembled at the oppressive sound, and Brian grimaced, his expression pained.

“So…you're using the Royal We?” Colin guessed, unsure what else to say to this petite woman with a voice like a ferocious multitude.

Shin gripped Colin's shoulder and shook his head. “Do not speak to her. Stay back.”

He and Min made their way to the bottom of the stairs, positioning themselves in front of their four comrades.

“What are you?” Shin demanded.

The woman smiled again. It was a sweet smile, very unbefitting of the voices behind it. “We are the Conquerors of Makoto!” the voices announced with unmistakable pride. “We are the Ijiwarui!”

Shin and Min turned to each other, identical expressions of horror etched on their faces. Unsheathing their swords, they stood at the ready in defensive positions.

“That name,” Colin whispered to Maeve. “How do I know that name?”

Maeve's expression mirrored that of Shin and Min's. “The Ijiwarui were the brutal invaders that infiltrated and attempted to conquer Makoto five hundred years ago,” she whispered without taking her eyes off the woman. “The army that began the War of Zen'aku.”

Colin gasped, remembering the tale Shin had told them.

“How could such a thing be possible?” Madeline whispered. “How could that army exist inside of her?”

Maeve shook her head in a frightened daze. “I don't know.”

Shin addressed the golden-clad woman with both caution and contempt, “Say that I do not believe you. Can you prove your claim? Prove that you are the Ijiwarui?”

“We can do whatever we so desire!” the voices bellowed from the mouth of the woman. “We are all powerful!”

Then, with a ferocity previously unseen by the Evans children, the woman threw back her head and opened her mouth so wide it appeared as though her jaw would come detached from her face. If this image was not disturbing enough, from her gaping maw came a war cry so loud and terrible, it sounded as though thousands of bloodthirsty warriors were suddenly occupying the throne room along with its current tenants. After a few seconds of this wail, ghostly images of beastly men clad all in obsidian armor began to fill the throne room, surrounding Shin, Min, and their comrades. The men were savage, empty-eyed demons, their mouths agape in the deafening war cry that echoed through the room. Their huge bladed weapons held aloft in the air, they stalked ever closer to the six comrades, poised to execute them.

When the woman lowered her head and shut her mouth, the war cry ended, and the ghostly images vanished.

“Satisfied?” asked the Ijiwarui.

Shin and Min looked at each other with grave expressions. Simultaneously, they gave the slightest of nods, signaling each other for action.

With an abrupt pivot, Shin sprinted at the Ijiwarui — leaping high into the air and bringing his blade down with tremendous force.

The woman housing the Ijiwarui made a graceful wave of her arm, and Shin was thrown into the far wall. He made contact with a sickening thud and toppled to the marble floor.

Min attacked from the other side. She was not quite as fast as her brother, but far less injured. Her katana came mere inches from the woman's slender throat before Min, too, was tossed like a cloth doll into the opposite wall.

The Ijiwarui had touched neither of them.

“Min!” Colin cried. He wanted to run to her, but the diseased Box in his hands gave him pause.

Madeline was at Shin's side.

“Your ribs, Shin,” she whispered. “Please—”

Shin pushed her out-stretched hand away with a grateful but firm gesture. Using the sheath of his sword to bear his weight, he stood.

Across the room, Min laboriously stood, as well.

“Where did you get the female body?” Shin asked, ignoring his pain. “Did you create it?”

“No, no! It is a host!” the Ijiwarui cried. “A host body cannot be created. We found it! Or rather, she found us.” With its delicate hands, the host body motioned down to itself. “On the riverbank, she freed us from our confines. Upon exiting one vessel, we entered another. Her.”

The Ijiwarui opened her mouth wide again, and a gray mist swirled out into the air. The Mizu River, its banks, and the bridge appeared, the water flowing through the throne room. The sight of the river and the sound of its current were as real as the six comrades themselves, and they watched the scene unfold in silent reverence.

A woman walked alongside the riverbank — the woman whose body now housed the Ijiwarui.

She appeared in a delicate pale pink kimono, her hair arranged in an elegant bun atop her head. She sat by the river with a contented expression, dipping her bare toes in the flowing water and giggling as the current tickled them. As she loosened the tightly drawn neckline of her kimono, she noticed an object floating in the water.

The object appeared to be unaffected by the river's current or its own weight, as it rose from the depths of the water and bobbed at the surface next to the bank, right beside the woman's bare feet.

The woman retrieved the object from the water. It was a small, corroded chest. Staring at it with skeptical curiosity, the woman turned the rusted gear that served as a lock until the catch released.

She opened the lid.

A swarm of black tar-like spirits rose from the chest, the war cry of thousands of voices roaring through the air. With a look of terror, the woman opened her mouth to scream, and the spirits flew inside.

The woman closed her mouth and the war cry ceased. Without a sound, she blinked once, picked up the chest, and began to walk.

As she vanished into the distance, the scene from the past ended.

The Ijiwarui sucked in a large breath of air, and the images were vacuumed back into her mouth, the lips of which then twisted into a sinister smile.

“After we were defeated in the War of Zen'aku, our spirits were trapped inside the Box by the Jade Lotus,” the Ijiwarui said in their multitude of voices. “The Box was locked, weighed down, and placed at the bottom of the Mizu River. All that time in the Box…it changed us. Transformed us. Infused us with its confounding power. Nearly five centuries elapsed, but we worked our way to freedom.” Laughter erupted from the host's mouth.

“She let you out…” Maeve said in disbelief. She glanced at the cloth-covered Box in Colin's hands. “This woman. You used her to escape. And now you possess her body like an insidious specter from Raganland.”

“Her body has been most helpful to us,” the Ijiwarui responded.

“She did not know what she was doing!” Min cried. Her hand gripped the hilt of her katana in anger. “No Makotan citizen would have willingly let your evil out into the world!”

“Why tell us this?” Shin asked. “Why show us these images? You have kept yourself a secret all these years. Why admit the truth now?”

The Ijiwarui's shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug. “You have done what no one else has managed to do: challenge us. You, a group of children, have impressed us.” The lovely woman's eyes acquired a sinister gleam. “And besides that, what is the harm? There is no way you can defeat us. No matter how many visions we show you. No matter how many old tales we tell.”

Shin paced behind the Ijiwarui's host body. He leapt and swung his katana down and right at a speed that nearly made his blade vanish. With a flick of the host's wrist, Shin flew back and struck the stairs leading to the throne dias. He cried out in pain as his side made contact with the marble surface.

Maeve and Madeline made to help him, but again Shin held up a hand to stop them. With much effort, he stood.

“So, this is your grand revenge?” he asked, rubbing his side. “Taking over our country under the pretense of other oppressors so that you cannot be found out? How can that make for a satisfying victory?”

“On the contrary,” the Ijiwarui countered in their multitude of voices, “Makoto cannot defeat an enemy it does not know exists. We were known of and defeated five hundred years ago because of your precious Talismans. This time, your Talismans aided us. To have Makoto fall to us due to the very devices that prevented our conquest the first time, why, that is the most satisfying of all victories.”

A horrible, deafening laugh erupted from the woman who hosted the Ijiwarui. The Evans children cringed and huddled together, Colin trying to keep the corroded Box from touching his siblings.

“The Talismans?” Shin echoed. He glanced back at his comrades.

Maeve retrieved the white cube that was the Puzzle from her pocket. “To defeat the evil, the Talismans must all be used together,” she recited, recalling Kyoko's words.

With great haste, the Evans children pulled the Talismans they carried from the folds of their kimono. The Hourglass, the Orb, and the Jade Stone.

“Form a circle around her,” Shin instructed. “We will use the protection devices to put the invading army back inside the Box where it belongs.”

With uneasy glances at the host body, the Evans children and Maeve ran to form a circle around her. In passing, Min took the Box from Colin and stood opposite the Ijiwarui.

The host's mouth opened wide, and the Ijiwarui's insidious laughter filled the throne room again. “Foolish children!” the voices berated them. “You know your legends well, for the Talismans do weaken us, but while we reside within a human host, your Talismans and that Box are nothing but trinkets! Their power is not enough! And you cannot force us to leave this body! You have already lost!”

The damning words seemed irrefutable, but despite their enemy's declaration, an invisible splinter of doubt prodded Shin's consciousness.

There was one weapon he possessed that he had not used. But would it work?

Deep inside his mind, Shin heard the words of the Master: Shin, I cannot tell you against which enemy you will need Hakai Suru Teki. But you will need it. There will be one opponent you cannot defeat without it. Your speed is your greatest strength. You understand people, and chi, and forces that are beyond the comprehension of most… Now you are the Kenjutsu master.

Shin narrowed his eyes at his crowing enemy. “Yes,” he said softly. “I can.”

The laughter ceased. “You can what?” the voices demanded.

“I can force you to vacate the body of your host,” Shin replied.

“Lies!”

Shin did not respond. His mind was focused on his promise. The promise he had made to the Master: For the sake of this country, and those people I love, I will separate the soul from one body. Gazing at the beautiful young woman who hosted the spirits of the Ijiwarui, Shin knew this was the one. This was the body and soul he must separate.

Taking in a long breath and pushing away the pain in his aching ribs, he gripped the hilt of his katana. Centering himself, he released the breath.

Then, faster than he had ever sprinted before, Shin shot across the room, flying at the Ijiwarui with every ounce of strength and resolve he possessed.

Charge
Unsheathe
Feign
Thrust
Pivot
Drop
Slash

Hakai Suru Teki had been executed.

The host body flew across the throne room, her back making a grotesque thud of impact against the marble wall.

Shin came out of his finishing stance and spun around.

A horizontal line of white light opened across the chest of the host body, right where the blade of Shin's katana had made contact. From that slash, a mass of howling spirits drenched in a black tar-like substance emerged. They seeped and spread up into the air, all tangled together as one massive, sordid being.

The Talismans began to glow, their light expanding up and out until it enveloped the six comrades and reached the ceiling, creating a blinding cylinder around the tar-covered spirits. Barely able to see their hands in front of them, the Evans children and Maeve squeezed their eyes shut and gripped their Talismans with all their strength, keeping the mass of grotesque spirits trapped inside the swirling light.

“Now, Min!” Shin cried above the roar of the howling war cry.

Min ripped the cloth from around the Box and flung the lid open.

The painful roars of the mass grew louder and more animalistic, and the host body collapsed to the floor.

Watching in speechless awe, the six comrades witnessed the huge mass of black spirits being pulled into the Box, as though the tiny corroded chest possessed a whirlwind vacuum. The spirits fought to break free from the Box's pull, reaching toward the ceiling and grabbing at everything within reach of their thousands of arms. Their fingers slid through every surface they touched, and even as one last blackened hand grabbed for the arm of the unmoving host body, the Box won the struggle, and the lid slammed shut.

The howling stopped so abruptly, the six comrades briefly wondered if they'd gone deaf.

As they glanced back and forth between each other in uncertainty, the light from the Talismans ebbed, returning the protection devices to mere objects, stagnant and mundane.

The tiny, tarnished gears of the Box spun wildly for a few seconds, then came to a sudden halt.

With a tentative touch, Min tried the lid. It was locked. The Ijiwarui were trapped inside the Box once more.

Their second invasion was over.

Somewhere in the wind, among the countless spirits that made up Kenshi no Seishin, Shin could feel the Master smiling down at them.

Evil had lost. Makoto was free.

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