Miss Heber is fighting her way out of the Lostbelt!

"Only... half a year?" Okita Souji's pupils were filled with confusion.

Why is the time even shorter?

She recalled that when the Shinsengumi team doctor first diagnosed her with the conclusion that she had less than five years to live, she didn't feel much.

However, as he grew older, weakness gradually gave rise to a fear of death and regrets about things that had not been fulfilled.

The elixir Hebe gave her allowed her to regain the "taste of health" once again - even though the fox demon said that this elixir could not really cure her "disease".

But she hadn't expected her end to come even sooner than she imagined. Counting the days since the team doctor's diagnosis, it had been less than three years.

The young swordsman coughed violently, blood oozing from between her lips and teeth.

Her long eyelashes drooped, and the loose neckline revealed her sunken collarbone. The girl swordsman's shoulders were a little thin and frail, making it difficult to see her as she walked down the long street, her sword flashing across the Satsuma domain and showing off her heroic figure as a swordsman.

Heber held the tea bowl in his palm and turned it, feeling the warmth spreading out bit by bit.

The fox said calmly, "How long do you want to keep this secret, Ms. Okita?"

"I..." The cherry-colored female swordsman just opened her mouth when more blood gushed out of her mouth.

Hebe leaned over and patted her on the back.

The burning pain in my internal organs eased.

Heber stretched out his hand and scratched his fingertips. Blood with a pale golden hue dripped into the bowl, dyeing the emerald green tea into a rainbow-like color.

"Drink it," said Hebe.

Souji Okita took the tea bowl, but did not drink it immediately.

"Why?" The young swordsman looked into Heber's eyes. "Why did Miss Tamamo do this?"

She bit her lip, and an inexplicable anxiety appeared between her eyebrows.

"what why'?"

"Why did Miss Tamamo punish Brother Kondo at the time, but didn't do anything to me?" Okita Souji lowered his eyelids. "It was me who was cruel to Miss Tamamo, wasn't it?"

The young swordsman has always been concerned about this.

She couldn't understand what Hebe was doing.

If the fox demon was magnanimous, she would not have controlled Nakamura Hanjiro to go back and kill his lord and brothers.

"Oh, so this is what's bothering you." Heber sat cross-legged beside Okita Souji's couch. "I explained the reason to Kondo Isami. Why didn't he tell you?"

"Brother Kondo did." A few strands of hair stuck to his pale forehead. Okita Souji held a tea bowl, his upper body leaning against the wall. "But... Miss Tamamo didn't tell you the real reason, right? I can tell."

"Is your sister like you?" Hebe asked suddenly.

The young swordsman is not an only child, she has two older sisters.

Okita Souji shook her head instinctively, and then her face turned pale as she realized something.

"In fact, the secret you tried so hard to hide is clear to me." Heber whispered, "Okita Souji, your illness is not tuberculosis at all."

"So the panacea won't work for you, because it's not a disease, it's the destructive impulse deep within you."

"Ms. Okita—you are a hybrid of a demon and a human."

......

At the end of the Heian period, the demon king of Mount Oe, Shuten-doji, foresaw the end of the demon community, but Ibaraki-doji was unwilling to accept such an outcome. So, with the combined efforts of the two demon kings, the demon community began to coexist with humans.

The ghost kings tried to use this method to create a bloodline between humans and ghosts, but the fox demon knew that this was a dead end.

As early as in the thick night when wildfires were burning all over Mount Oe, Hebe had warned Shuten-doji in a cold tone.

This is because the blood of ghosts and humans represents two completely opposite desires.

When they gather in the same person, they must destroy each other before they can continue.

It is just like the horn fight between Scar Father and Cripple Wolf, and now this "horn fight" phenomenon will reappear in the body of the hybrid.

......

Heber originally thought that Shuten-doji's plan had been destroyed with the death of the Demon King.

After all, before his death, Shuten-douji admitted that his plan had made no progress for decades. Instead of letting the pure-blooded demons be consumed in such a useless plan, it would be better to let them go and let them face their own fate.

But neither Heber nor Shuten-doji had expected that a thousand years after the Demon King gave up his plan, the real demon hybrid would appear before them alive.

"So do you understand, Ms. Okita?" Heber said, "It was precisely because I still had remnants of conflict in me that you were attracted to me and couldn't control yourself, so you drew your sword at me. Even you didn't realize that you didn't want to kill me that night, but to die by my hand."

There was an indescribable emotion in the fox's eyes.

"Death was a painful punishment for Saigo Takamori and his companions. But for Ms. Okita, it was a sweet salvation."

"So I won't just let Ms. Okita die—at least not yet."

Heber picked up the tea bowl and placed it to Okita Souji's lips, his voice soft and sweet: "Drink it, Miss Okita."

"Before your true death comes, please me with the sword in your hand."

"Sword?" Okita Souji said bitterly, "Hasn't Miss Tamamo already overwhelmed the seven major schools of Kyoto? She's defeated more than a dozen sword masters... What's so special about me?"

After all, she lost to Heber on the first day.

"Really?" Heber's voice became dull again.

She pulled away the teacup.

Souji Okita subconsciously stretched out his hand, but it stopped in mid-air.

"Is this the limit of your swordsmanship?" Heber asked calmly. "Okita Souji, you, with your demon blood, should have been stillborn, yet you've thrived for over a decade. In other words, you're already a miracle. You possess both the destructive power of a demon and the wisdom of a human. These two desires wrestle within you, resulting in your exceptional talent in the swordsmanship."

"Okita Souji, Okita Souji!"

Hebe's voice gradually grew louder as she stared into the swordswoman's eyes, which were gradually lighting up.

Her voice seemed to come from far away, and from the bottom of Okita Souji's heart.

The illusion took effect.

"Tell me now, do you still want to use the last bit of your life to see the highest peak of kendo? Not as a human slayer, but as the Shinsengumi Okita Souji, to openly knock on the door of the 'Sword Saint'!"

Okita Souji narrowed his eyes.

She suddenly recalled the image of herself in the countryside dojo, sweating and wielding Su Zhen. At that time, Shi Fan told her that if she was given twenty years, she would have a chance to open the door to becoming a swordsman.

But she's not even twenty yet.

A clear light gradually ignited in Okita Souji's eyes. She stretched out her hand, wanting to take the tea bowl, but pinched the fingertips of the fox demon.

The young swordsman replied with a voice that was almost a sigh, "You know what, Miss Tamamo?"

“I’ve always had this desire in my heart.”

Heber just listened to her quietly.

The young swordsman rambled on, "I sometimes wonder how wonderful it would be if I could be born in the Warring States Period and fight to the death with those sword masters and sword saints... The legendary Miyamoto Musashi is also said to be a female swordsman. How far do I compare to her?"

"Ms. Tamamo, you're right. I really don't want to accept this—and none of the contemporary swordsmen would accept this!"

Souji Okita picked up the tea bowl and drank the medicinal tea in big gulps.

The sword-like determination reappeared in the young swordsman's gray eyes.

Every swordsman at the end of the shogunate regretted not being born five hundred years earlier.

Not only Okita Souji, Chiba Shusaku, Saito Yakuro... even a killer like Okada Izo, have more or less had similar thoughts.

I want to go back to the past and use the sword in my hand to ask the ancestors how the swordsmanship of the younger generation is.

Unfortunately, the tide of the times surged, and the swords in the hands of the swordsmen were worthless in the face of muskets and cannons. Therefore, no one could remember their original dream and hold on to their swords tightly. After all, people always have to compromise to survive, and so every swordsman was swept along by the times and stumbled forward.

But I still feel uneasy in my heart. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I can still hear the sword humming unwillingly in its sheath.

Okita Souji was unwilling to accept this, and the swordsmen of the late shogunate were probably unwilling to accept this either.

The young swordsman stood up from the bed: "Come on, Miss Tamamo!"

Her pupils became clear again, and an unwilling stubbornness appeared on Okita Souji's face.

"Let's start practicing."

They walked back outside, and in the clear moonlight, they raised their wooden swords and faced each other from a distance.

Hebe bit the hair tie to tie up her long flaxen hair, and her slender neck had a graceful curve.

Souji Okita rolled up his sleeves, revealing his white wrists.

Souji Okita did not display his extreme speed, and Heber did not summon the Heroic Swordsman. The two of them simply responded to each other with ordinary moves.

First it was the Tennen Rishin-ryu, then it became the Hokushin Ittoryu, and then the Shinto Ryu, the Kagami Shinkei-ryu, the Shiken-ryu, the Shinto Munen-ryu... The wooden swords collided in the air, moving downward along the curve of the sword spine, like fish passing by in the water, and once again drawing beautiful and concise lines.

The steps are staggered and the positions are interchanged.

A faint fragrance was carried by the fluttering clothes, and the eyes of Hebe and Okita Souji were closely intertwined.

Heber saw excitement, joy and innocence in Okita Souji's eyes.

Souji Okita saw interest, expectation and affirmation in Heber's eyes.

The wooden swords met again, and they had exchanged positions without knowing when, and the swordsmanship in their hands returned to the natural style.

"...Are you comfortable?" The young swordswoman, her face slightly flushed, stared at Heber and asked calmly, "Ms. Tamamo, are you comfortable?"

"Very interesting." Heber had never thought that just a simple exchange of sword skills could give her a "pleasant" feeling.

This experience is unprecedented.

"That's great." Okita Souji said softly, "I've always felt that Miss Tamamo actually doesn't care about swordsmanship and kendo... This is because Miss Tamamo is just too strong."

All along, Heber has indeed been on the path of a strong person.

The strong here not only have strength, but also wisdom.

She defeated the Ghost King with honor and single-handedly trained a general who swept across the East.

Even being pierced by the general's Amanuma Spear in Mt. Takachiho was part of her plan.

Further back, the same was true in Egypt and the Wars of the Roses.

Heber calculated all the people and things, and then put himself on the gambling table as a chip without hesitation. This kind of magnanimity and leeway has always been exclusive to the strong.

But the appearance of Souji Okita was beyond Heber's expectations.

In fact, it wasn't just Okita Souji who surprised Heber. The same was true for Saga, who traveled through time just to leave a valuable message for him.

Now that I think about it, even if you are in power, you can't plan everything.

And Kendo itself is a skill that allows the weak to face the strong.

When Heber emptied her mind, did not use any supernatural powers, and only used swordsmanship to fight with Okita Souji, she did... feel a kind of joy, a simple happiness, a "sense of game" that could not be experienced when crushing others, and the satisfaction after winning the game.

Heber quietly savored this peaceful happiness. She could feel Okita Souji's intentions from the sword fight.

Even if there is no physical contact, this kind of exchange of thoughts is more delicate and subtle than physical contact.

This joy permeated Heber's heart like water. For the first time, she felt that swordsmanship was not purely about winning by strength, and swordsmanship did not necessarily mean killing the target.

"Ms. Tamamo, are you happy?"

Okita Souji asked.

"Yes, I am happy," Heber replied. "I do take pleasure in swordsmanship and the way of the sword."

The fox's deep green eyes stared at Okita Souji.

"What about you? Ms. Okita, are you happy?"

"I am very happy now."

Okita Souji raised the wooden sword again, a faint blush appeared on her face, as if she was longing for a sword fight, or as if she was longing for a collision of thoughts and a dialogue.

The young swordsman's voice trembled with a subtle, hidden tremor.

"Then please make me happier. Miss Tamamo."

P.S. As the saying goes, sword fighting is ()! This is also recorded in the Waxing Moon Ceremony.

ps2: This chapter can't be separated, so I combined it into two parts.

P.S.3: I've been having trouble breathing, feeling dizzy, and weak in my limbs these past two days. It's been really tough. Everyone, please take care of yourself!