Have you ever seen a God actually go burn incense at a Buddhist altar, wash their hands and clothes, and pray for good luck?
I never believed such ridiculous things existed in this world— until I witnessed it with my own eyes.
Subway, Old Man, Mobile Phone.
That was my honest reaction inside when I saw that scene
I really don’t understand, it’s just treating an injury after all.
They obviously didn’t care much about it before, each one planning to keep their serious wounds hidden from me. So why are they suddenly so eager about healing now?
Anyway, since you’ve all endured so much already, does the order of treatment really matter?
The cat’s persistent meowing has already echoed into the Honmaru.
Aruki!
Is healing the important thing?
Clearly, it’s Sleeping Duty!
In the end, the draw began under absolutely fair and just conditions, with no one able to tamper with or cheat the process.
Originally, we intended to use a genuine “drawing lots” in the traditional sense, but many swords strongly objected, complaining things like, “That would give the God Sword too much of an advantage,” or “The Buddha Sword might sneak in some backdoor deals.”
I had no idea what all that mumbling was about.
In the end, we gave them what they wanted and used a Computer’s random number generator to draw the lots.
“Ehdo…” The golden short-haired Taichi smiled brightly, poking the number on the screen with a finger, “Looks like it’s me?”
You can’t tell at first glance, but Higekiri actually has this kind of luck? I underestimated him.
Next time I go shopping at Wanwu, I’ll have Higekiri pick the lottery for me.
“Well then, please take care of me, Master.” Higekiri knelt down opposite me, lightly dressed, still damp from his recent bath.
But my gaze paused on the wounds scattered across his body.
“…Doesn’t it hurt? You even went to take a bath with so many injuries?!” I almost wanted to rush forward and shake him by the collar.
Take care of yourselves a little more! You damn sword spirits!
“Haha, hurt? Not really sure.” Higekiri naturally leaned his head close, gently kissed my earlobe, and nibbled lightly with his teeth.
“Well then, shall we begin?”
There’s a difference between fiction and reality.
I deeply realized this.
Sword Spirits really can’t be judged by human logic.
I experienced that firsthand today.
Sob…
This isn’t quite what I imagined, is it?
“Master.” Higekiri lowered his head to look at me; in the dim environment, only those tea-golden eyes shone excessively bright.
Like a lion on the hunt.
The wounds on his body visibly healed at a noticeable speed, which proved this method was effective… but I had no time to dwell on that now.
“Your wounds aren’t fully healed yet… Higekiri…” I swear I had never spoken with such humility and pleading before.
But that damn Heian Sword seemed not to understand a word I said, resting his chin on my shoulder and then raising his voice, breathing softly into my ear with a tone that made my teeth itch with annoyance and surprise.
“Could it be that you’ve had enough? That won’t do, Master.”
He smiled like a demon, showing two sharp tiger fangs.
“But you said it yourself… what was that phrase again?”
Higekiri placed his hand firmly on my lower abdomen and pressed hard.
“There’s only the ox that works to death, no plowed field that’s ruined… right?”
Sob sob sob, I was wrong, I really know I was wrong, I shouldn’t have said that!
Can’t you just treat that phrase of mine like a fart and let it go!
Sword Spirits possess physical capabilities far beyond what ordinary people can imagine.
Because of that, even though walls and doors separate them, and despite their deliberate endurance, you can still hear the Saniwa occasionally scolding them—not really out of anger though.
The atmosphere in the large hall was eerily quiet until the sun dipped west and night spread, yet no one got up to turn on the lights. In the darkness, only pairs of eyes seemed to glow faintly.
No one knew how much time had passed before the sound of a door opening and closing was finally heard, followed by footsteps approaching.
The curtain door of the great hall was pulled aside, revealing Higekiri’s satisfied face—and of course, everyone could see that all his injuries had completely healed.
“It really works, you know, no different from the effect of the Restoration Pool,” Higekiri smiled.
“Who’s next?”
If only there were a regret pill in this world.
If so, I definitely wouldn’t have made that naive, reckless suggestion.
I thought about stopping halfway, but only thought about it.
After all, if you grit your teeth and harden your heart, the mana restoration is really effective—and maybe it’s just my imagination, but it seems like their condition is even better than after the Healing Pool. Each of them looked like they were about to blossom into full bloom…
So then, how about we just keep going?
Sob sob sob! I really should cancel it after all!
I feel like I’ve turned into a Cream Puff.
A major, extremely sinister incident recently occurred within the Government of Time.
There was a high-level betrayal: secret collusion with the Time Retrograde Army, severing numerous key connections, and leaking many Saniwa’s Honmaru Coordinates.
Although the Government of Time responded immediately to handle the situation, frankly, everyone involved in the rescue operation was already bracing for the worst.
Probably to more accurately and effectively strike the living forces of the government, those listed on the List were mostly the young generation who had been thriving in recent years—if nothing goes wrong, they were supposed to bear the future of the government for hundreds of years to come.
The more Honmaru they passed by, the heavier the Action Team’s hearts grew. It was clear this was a premeditated strike by the Time Retrograde Army, and Saniwa, who never anticipated such a thing, were hard-pressed to counter it.
One ruined Honmaru after another silently testified to the fierce battles that had taken place.
The Action Team remained silent, the atmosphere oppressively heavy. They gathered the shards of the Sword Spirits left in these broken Honmaru— that seemed to be the only thing they could do.
Have we… simply arrived too late?
Only when they opened a Time-Space Channel to a certain Honmaru Coordinate did they see the dense cluster of the Time Retrograde Army outside the Main Hall Barrier.
After a half-month-long siege by the Retrograde Army, this Honmaru had somehow managed to endure.
Being discovered by the Action Team meant reestablishing contact with the Government of Time.
They could now close the continuously appearing Retrograde Army channels, change the Honmaru’s space-time coordinates, and assist in wiping out the Retrograde Army— all of which proceeded smoothly.
The Action Team noticed that the Sword Spirits in this Honmaru barely bore any accumulated injuries.
How many resources must they be stockpiling in daily life?
Mixed with this sense of doubt and admiration, they went to meet the Saniwa of this Honmaru.
…Is she really still human?
When the female Saniwa, master of this Honmaru, appeared before them, everyone couldn’t help but think this.
—From her emanated an overwhelmingly intense Divine Aura and sharp Divine Light, as if she were soaked repeatedly in the breath of the Gods, inside and out fully steeped in it to produce such an effect.
“I am the Saniwa of this Honmaru, code name May.”
The female Saniwa bowed slightly in greeting.
In that instant, they seemed to catch a glimpse of the pale nape beneath her loose hair, where red spots dotted like plum blossoms in the snow.
Hmm?
Could it be an allergy?