25+ Advance chapters on Patreon
'I do what I want. No one can tell me otherwise.'
That was Yuto's rule in this world. If those stubborn Onmyoji masters thought they could order him around, they were in for a rude awakening.
After dropping Marin off at home, Yuto joined Benio and Tsuchimikado Arima on a trip to Tsuchimikado Island: the hub of the Onmyoji master community.
Tsuchimikado Island felt like a separate realm, governed by the Tsuchimikado main family and the Twelve Divine Generals. Strength and bloodlines ruled here. The main island was the center of it all, home to the Tsuchimikado residence, the Onmyoji Union's "Taigetsu Tower," the apprentice training school "Seiyouin," and the black torii gate leading to the Magano. Smaller islands surrounded it, but this was where the power sat.
Benio moved with ease, clearly familiar with the place as she trailed Arima. Yuto, though, was new to it all, his sharp eyes scanning the unfamiliar sights.
They slipped through a hidden door in a shrine, heading deep underground. The air thinned as they descended a kilometer below the surface. Red walls shaped traditional Japanese buildings around them, and in the center, the five elements: wood, fire, earth, metal, water were carved, giving the place a heavy, serious feel.
When Yuto stepped out, he caught the stares of the Onmyoji masters–some doubtful, some curious. They wore tall black hats and crisp white robes, their faces marked by time. The youngest were middle-aged; the oldest had snow-white hair.
Their eyes judged him like he was something to buy or sell. A spark of annoyance flared inside him.
"Ha, hey everyone, I'm Arima," Tsuchimikado said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "As you can see, I've brought Mr. Yuto and Miss Benio. Let's talk this out. The spiritual disaster in two weeks isn't to be taken lightly."
Arima played it casual, but he was good with words. Yuto could tell he was working hard to keep things from boiling over between him and these masters.
"Hmph, a kid who doesn't even know Onmyoji arts," a chubby, white-haired master snorted. "You think we'd hand something this big to him?"
"Right. The Adashino family's down on its luck, but it's not for any random nobody to cling to. Ordinary people shouldn't mess with Onmyoji business."
"I don't buy his so-called victories. What's this 'curse high school' nonsense? Has the supernatural world lost its roots, taking in regular students?"
These Onmyoji masters weren't shy about speaking their minds or picking a fight with the government. Their words stung, and the room grew tense fast.
"This isn't exactly the 'asking for help' you said," Yuto said, throwing Arima a sly half-smile.
Arima wiped sweat from his brow. He hadn't expected these old-timers to brush off Yuto's reputation as the "Tyrant" so easily, assuming his feats were just tall tales.
It hit Yuto then: they didn't trust Arima's "Star Reading" prophecy either. To them, he was still an outsider.
"Everyone, I've got something to say. Hear me out."
Ignoring Arima and Benio's puzzled looks, Yuto stepped onto the central platform. His voice rolled through the room like a low rumble, catching everyone off guard.
The Onmyoji masters quieted down, staring at him, unsure.
"I came here to give Arima some respect," Yuto started. "But you old relics keep looking down on me, calling me ordinary. You really think you're above everyone, don't you?"
His words dropped like a stone into calm water, stirring up trouble. The masters' glares sharpened.
"Kid, watch where you are," the chubby one warned, his voice low. "There are some people you don't cross. You might have a little talent, but that's all."
"You Onmyoji masters are stuck in the past, holding onto your dusty traditions," Yuto fired back, meeting their cold stares head-on. "Don't try to judge me or tell me what to do. I won't play by your rules or listen to your lectures. If you want to control me? Beat me first. Otherwise, your words mean nothing."
"Ha… real bold, aren't you?" The old man laughed, but his eyes were ice. He'd never seen a kid this cocky before.
The Onmyoji world was cut off from the outside, so Yuto's name hadn't reached them. To them, he was a nobody.
" Let's test if you're as strong as the prophecy claims."
Without hesitating a few masters moved, tossing talismans etched with strange symbols. Spiritual energy flared, linking with the spells inside.
The talismans ripped apart. Green vines shot up from the ground, twisting toward Yuto's legs. A wave of blue water surged at him, followed by blazing fire and sharp wind blades. They had him cornered or so they thought.
"Neat. So this is modern Onmyoji arts," Yuto said, a small smile creeping onto his face.
He wasn't fazed. After a month with Yomi, he'd picked up the basics of Onmyoji techniques.
In this world, modern Onmyoji arts came from the "Imperial Onmyoji Arts," created by the legendary Tsuchimikado Yakou, the "North Star King." Yakou had simplified the old, tricky spells into something practical but weaker. Today's version was even simpler, a shadow of what it once was.
There were old families like Tsuchimikado, Tsuchimiya, Keikain, and Isayama, plus groups like the Onmyoji Agency and the Supernatural Countermeasures Office. But the old guard kept their secrets close, leaving most with half-baked skills.
"Too weak," Yuto said, brushing it off.
To their shock, the water, wind, fire, and vines couldn't touch him. His Red Dragon Heart beat strong, tapping into the earth's ley lines, giving him endless magic power.
"How's that possible?!"
Some backed away, stunned. Others stared, refusing to believe it. Most just couldn't figure out how his body alone shrugged off their attacks.
"Done?" Yuto asked, flicking water off his sleeve. A hard smile tugged at his lips. "My turn."
He projected the Noble Phantasm, Durandal: The Peerless Sword. It was the holy blade of Roland, a knight of Charlemagne, known for its edge and three miracles. Even without magic, it never dulled.
Yuto fed it his magic, and it lit up with a white glow that made the masters shake.
"What is that?!"
"It's as strong as the Imperial Arts!"
A white beam cut through the dark chamber, lighting half the space. It ripped forward, straight at the masters.
"Ahhh!"
The blast was huge. Durandal's piercing power, boosted by Yuto's magic, carved a crater like a bomb had gone off. No one could stand against it.
Now they saw their mistake. Their pride had cost them big.
"Yuto, why'd you just start swinging?!" Arima groaned, watching the mess unfold.
Yuto's "Tyrant" title fit him perfectly. He didn't spare anyone who crossed him.
"Arima, should we stop him?" one of the Twelve Divine Generals asked, eyeing the chaos.
Truth be told, watching the old guard get crushed felt good. These stiff traditionalists rejected modern ways, acting like they still ruled the world. They clashed hard with Arima's forward-thinking Divine Generals.
Keeping both sides in line was a pain for Arima. Yuto might've just fixed that for him.
The Twelve Divine Generals or Twelve Guardians were top Onmyoji masters, picked by Abe no Seimei's shikigami. They excelled in combat, curses, knowledge, and skill. Their talismans held living shikigami that chose their owners.
Only three were here: Shimon Ikaruga (Crimson Phoenix), Tatara (Soaring Snake), and the strongest, Tenma Unomiya (Kijin).
They didn't like the old guard, but letting Yuto wipe them out wasn't an option.
Arima sighed, catching Tenma's eye. "Please stop him. He'll kill them all like this."
"Got it. We'll handle it." Tenma, with his odd cockroach-like hair, was itching for a fight. Small and girlish-looking, he loved a good brawl. His natural curse power let him use weapons without chants.
"Time to gear up!" Normally, Tenma didn't bother with his curse gear; his enemies dropped too fast. But Yuto was different.
"Mr. Yuto, give our leader some respect," Tenma said, his sword flashing as he stepped in Yuto's way.
Yuto's eyes narrowed. "You're blocking me?"
"Not trying to. Just asking you to let them live."
"No. Move," Yuto said, voice flat.
"Sorry, then I've got no choice."
Tenma's eyes sparked with irritation. He'd been polite, and Yuto still brushed him off.
"Come on, then," Yuto said, waving him forward.
Tenma huffed and swung his sword in a quick, hard slash. He wanted to see who'd come out on top.
"Nice swing," Yuto said before firing a sword beam, knocking Tenma back.
Then Yuto vanished, popping up mid-air. His foot slammed into Tenma's chest.
Boom!
It was too fast. Tenma couldn't block and crashed into the ground, leaving a pit. Cracks spread out, dust rising thick.
When it settled, Tenma was buried up to his neck, out cold.
"So this is the strongest Divine General? You guys are really weak."
Yuto turned to Shimon and the masked Tatara, grinning. "Your boss couldn't handle one kick. What about you two?"
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━━
patreon.com/DUKE3500 for advance chapters for all the novels i translate for 2$