The Yokai's Flesh and the Cursed Lantern
Krraaaah—!! Save me!!
The death scream tore through the air before fading like a ghost. Silence fell, but Juharin couldn't bring herself to open her eyes, every nerve on edge.
A high-rank yokai… Something at least 7th grade would be needed to take it down.
The mages had hurled curses at it when it attacked. But the results were disastrous. The curse blades shattered like glass fragments before even grazing its hide.
I'm the only one left alive.
That last scream had come from the final surviving mage. If they couldn't escape even with numbers on their side, could she really make it out alone?
It's possible. Plenty possible.
A yokai was an existence incomparable to mere monsters or yokai.
Conventional physical attacks were useless, and eliminating one demanded overwhelming firepower from a high-rank mage. She was only 5th grade—no chance of taking it head-on.
But defeating a yokai didn't require brute force alone.
All yokai were irrational in their strength, to an absurd degree. Yet for all their power, they were bound by clear constraints. Pierce through their irregularities, adhere to their taboos, and survival was possible.
Thud. Thud.
Juharin tapped the floor around her with her broom. Confirming it empty, she inched forward.
Just keep moving slowly like this.
She had figured out its rule: sight.
Every mage felled by the yokai had laid eyes on it. And without exception, their limbs were ripped apart, ending their lives. The moment she realized this, she had shut her eyes.
Thank goodness the space was pitch dark—she hadn't glimpsed its form.
Thud. Thud.
Clinging to her broom, she shuffled ahead.
Squelch.
A soft, yielding texture transmitted up the broom to her hand. The thickening stench of blood suggested it was a severed chunk of mage flesh.
Gulp.
No screams or panic from her—she was a proper witch, after all. The reason she froze, cold sweat beading, was simple.
Where there were corpses, their maker was likely near.
Thud—thud—
She moved even more cautiously now.
Something hard soon blocked her path.
Thud. Thud.
The sensation, like tapping a rough wall, traveled up the broom to her hand.
Just find the entrance now.
The corner of her mouth curved upward. Distance herself from this yokai, shatter the barrier, call for backup. Her family's high-rank mages would obliterate it in seconds.
Grope. Grope.
Juharin chuckled softly, fingers tracing the wall.
Huh? What's this vibration?
Imagination? A bizarre pulsing throbbed at her fingertips. The wall, which should have been cold, beat rhythmically.
Grope grope.
Her face hardened like plaster as her palm swept over it. Grotesque curves and coarse fur where it should be flat, and deep inside, a massive heartbeat pounding against her skin.
This wasn't a wall.
Her body trembled uncontrollably.
What she was desperately clinging to, groping blindly, was the body of the yokai that had devoured three mages alive.
Realization pinned Juharin in place. She couldn't move an inch.
Any twitch, and this monster would shred her.
Flip—
I turned the page of the book in my hand.
The Method to Turn Insects into Humans
Thud.
"Useless."
I slammed it shut after the first line.
Bzzz—
The closed book vibrated faintly. I ignored it and chucked it far into the corner. Plenty more to read.
"Don't cling."
Floating books rubbed against me like cats. I shoved them away.
This was a library overflowing with books.
Like the kitchen, they flew about here too. The difference? Unlike those murderous utensils, these books were friendly toward me.
"Impossible… So many forbidden books gathering like that… Are you a god of magic or something?"
I ignored the necromancer's umpteenth freakout. Tough bastard—thought he'd die on the way here, but he was still kicking.
"Next."
At my call, the next book in line fluttered over, rubbing its spine against my hand like it was coquettish. Not the first to approach like this.
I glanced at the title.
The Method to Become One with Outer Gods
Thud.
"Creepy. Next."
I swatted it away with the back of my hand. These types always had titles I had zero interest in.
Splat.
Rejected, it flopped to the ground, cover stretching mournfully like it felt heartbreak. It floated back slowly, rejoining the line.
"…Next."
Won't read that one either. With that thought, I checked the next.
Simple reason for this: Maybe one held a way out or a hint.
The Method to Exterminate Saints and Holy Spirits
But only rejects filled this place—nothing I wanted.
Necromancer said these were all forgotten ancient sorceries. Inaccessible to ordinary mages, relics of the golden age of grimoires.
But after sampling, I knew it was hype.
"Forbidden books? This shit?"
I eyed the one in my hand with disgust.
The Method to See the Secrets of Angels and Demons
First chapter in, and it hit me: This was straight-up fanfic erotica. Worse, it featured gay themes.
"…Fair enough, if 'don't read' is the criterion."
Eyes closed, I hurled it away.
Scanning for anything decent—
One caught my eye.
The Method to Handle the Cursed Lantern
Not particularly special-looking. But cutting in line, bickering with others—that snagged my attention.
I picked it up; it quivered excitedly, flipping open before I touched the cover, like begging for pets.
"Hm?"
New type. No text—pictures. An aged yet elegant, mysterious lantern.
Wondering what it was, I went to turn the page—then it shuddered violently.
And the mere illustration of the old lantern began peeling from the page.
Dong dong dong.
It circled me before settling in my palm. The book in my other hand flipped automatically.
Place a cherished body part or loved one into the lantern. The shadows will grant your desires.
I frowned at the text.
"Useless."
Then pages flipped frantically, like insisting this wasn't it. It stopped on new text.
Just handle me any way lol~ Even rough is okay! Master's commands are the bestest in the world! Just don't toss me away T_T
"…"
I stared at the lantern in my hand with cold eyes. Thought it was some big deal. Where'd the archaic tone go—now this weird slang?
"…Might as well test it?"
No cost mentioned for use. Time to check its power.
"Hey, know what this is?"
"…An ancient magic tool? You've scored something huge."
I approached the necromancer in the corner, holding it out.
"Better stay still."
A light warning, then I murmured the command.
"Seize him."
The unlit lantern ignited.
Fwoosh.
Bright flames roared. Shadows bloomed beneath.
Siiiizz—
The shadow's center tore open, gleaming eyes and a fanged smirk emerging from the rift.
Like a living thing, it ballooned instantly, binding the necromancer's limbs.
"A magic tool with ego… Truly ancient… No, this level qualifies as an artifact."
The necromancer muttered at his restraints.
Satisfied, I blew gently; the flame died. Eyes and mouth melted away with the light.
I eyed the book: The Method to Handle the Cursed Lantern.
Shrrrk—
Its duty done, it crumbled to dust.
"Usable."
My talismans were depleted—no weapons left. Necromancer's reaction screamed quality, and gear from tough spots was always top-tier.
Good loot acquired, but mission unfinished. I kept sifting through clinging books.
How much time passed?
"Hm?"
An intriguing title approached.
The Method to Topple the Castle