Story:

Bel spared the bound Shiro one last downward glance as he stepped past her.

"I'll deal with you later, little slayer," he said, mild as a man promising a second cup of tea. "Do watch. This part is for all of you."

And the Vampire Lord walked on, leaving her chained in his blood, toward the great red Torii—stopping right before the shrine's final gate, ten measured steps from Chitose and the remaining senior mikos beneath it.

Ten steps.

Chitose's hand slashed downward.

"NOW—ALL LINES—CHANT!!"

The Shrine Master's voice broke over the formation, and she led the chant herself—the sacred syllables of the evil suppression spell of the square, the shrine's ultimate countermeasure, the invocation reserved by the founders for the one nightmare that had never yet come true: if the evil advances this deeply inside the shrine temple grounds.

The senior mikos' voices rose and braided with hers into a single resonance of holy sound—and from the roof-edges of the nearest temple buildings, the square itself answered.

Four thick bolts of purple lightning tore down out of the clear night sky—converging on Bel from four cardinal directions, suppression lightning charged with hundred years of the mountain's accumulated purity, each bolt thick as a temple pillar.

They struck home. All four.

Excessive light swallowed the square. Smoke and burnt ash geysered upward, flooding the area, hiding the Vampire Lord from view—thunder rolling off the mountain and back again, the shrine's mikos shading their streaming eyes, hearts hammering with a desperate, wild, prayerful hope.

The smoke thinned.

A suppressing dark aura emitted from within the clearing haze, steady as a held breath, pushing the smoke outward in a slow ring.

Chitose's heart stopped before her eyes finished confirming it.