Part 3: Chapter 7

    Ohara had managed to make it back to the Soga Forest after escaping from her close shave with death; she stopped by the shores of the swamp, breathing heavily. Surrounded by dark green reeds, the surface of the water rippled, reflecting parts of the dilapidated old manor here and there. A deep wound as if cut by a scalpel was openly exposed in Ohara's arm where she had been hit by the sword of Hi-no-Kagutsuchi. However, mysteriously enough, there was very little blood flowing from it any longer.
    Ohara did not really have any intention of returning to Isma. But there was something in the Soga forest that calmed her demonic soul. Sitting down on the trunk of a fallen larch tree, she whispered to herself.
    "Loki..."
    I meant to get revenge, but in the end I didn't even manage to take out the one who killed Loki...
    Something hot welled up in Ohara's eyes, and her bronze cheeks became moist. Waiting a little while, the night breeze cooled her well-formed face, gently wiping those tears off.
    Right at that moment, the white visage of a girl clearly entered Ohara's field of vision.
    It might have been the fact that only hatred had been keeping Ohara going that caused her to notice that Yumiko had half-unintentionally followed her after running out of Nakajima's house.
    You just killed my mom... Nakajima's voice still echoed in Yumiko's ears. As if trying shake free from it, Yumiko slowly raised her hand, glaring at Ohara with tear-filled eyes. The psychic power bestowed upon her by Izanami would surely finish her off in a single attack.
    But Yumiko faltered.
    Professor Ohara is also a victim here. Nakajima's mother surely was also possessed by a demon. And I...
    "Heh, heh, heh." As if she had read Yumiko's mind, Ohara sniffed her bloody fingers, suppressing a giggle.
    "Foolish sympathy will destroy you. Have a look at my fingers! Some of your family's blood still remains on them!"
    "Stop it!" Crying out, Yumiko closed her eyes and swung her hand.
    As if following the arc of that hand, Ohara's chest was rent open, and a spray of her blood drenched the surrounding area. Yumiko unconsciously ran over and pulled up Ohara's broken body, which looked almost coiled around the larch log. In a brief moment, all traces of scales disappeared from her face, and her ghostly white lips quivered, as if trying to say something.
    But Yumiko could not hear whatever it was she was tring to say. Tears rolled off her cheeks and onto Ohara's face. All of a sudden at that instant, there was a rumbling roar from the shores of the swamp, and the entire area was steeped in a miasma.