"You're both unbearable," Tomoe muttered irritably, shaking her head.
As usual, I ignored her irritation and pressed on.
"So, how exactly do we get through the barrier?"
"Any Youkai can pass through this barrier without issue," Sorai cut in, his tone calm and even. "But for guests like you, a special guide is required. And that guide just so happens to be me."
"So, you're pretty important, huh?" I squinted at him with a playful look.
Sorai seemed to smirk, though it was hard to say for sure. Seeing a crow-like smile was definitely a first for me.
"In certain circles," he replied with a faint hint of irony, a subtle but unmistakable smirk on his beak.
On his beak? With his beak? Around his beak? Ah, the joys of interspecies vocabulary challenges. It's a linguistic puzzle I'll have to solve if I'm going to be talking with Youkai more often.
"Now, follow me," Sorai said, and before I could ask anything else, he stepped calmly through the barrier, as if passing between worlds was the most natural thing for him.
We followed, and this time, the barrier yielded with unexpected ease. It felt like the thinnest membrane, letting me slip through as effortlessly as a knife through soft fabric. The sensation was… strange, to put it mildly. Or maybe not so mildly. It was this odd mix of real and imagined sensations. If I had to describe it, the first thing that comes to mind is a feeling of total disorientation. For a second, it was like space itself had flipped, and suddenly I was upside down. But oddly enough, it didn't cause any panic. In the next instant, that "upside down" felt completely normal, like I'd spent my whole life walking on ceilings.
Then, I felt a gentle shift, as if gravity had changed directions again. Yet despite all this, the space we passed through felt weirdly normal — no flashes of magic, no ritualistic transformations. Everything looked familiar, which, honestly, was the strangest part of all. The only hint of magic was a subtle shift in reality — not in the physical objects around us, but perceptible somewhere deeper, on an instinctual level. It was as if the very fabric of the world had adapted, bending to fit new rules.
If this was magic, it was crafted with incredible finesse, free from the dramatic effects you'd usually expect from a magical barrier. It didn't try to overwhelm with raw power; instead, its presence was like an underwater current — strong, but invisible.
And then, as it dawned on me that I'd left the human world behind, I noticed a floral scent in the air, faint and elusive. But it wasn't just any scent — it was prana, practically "pouring" into me, filling each breath with living energy. The air here was thick with pure magic, heavy with energy that I could feel on an instinctual level. It swirled around, ready to empower anyone who knew how to sense and use it. The atmosphere itself felt different — supportive, invigorating, like it could strengthen you if you were willing to accept it.
[New Location Unlocked!]
[New Achievement — "Land of Illusions"]
Ah, I'd almost forgotten about you…
[Land of Illusions]
[Achievement Condition: Discover the true face of Kyoto and somehow enter Urakyoto, the dwelling place of the Eastern Youkai.]
[Description: Urakyoto is an artificial world within a special barrier. Existing both in the human world and in the Dimensional Gap, this place truly deserves to be called a land of illusions or a realm of fantasy. You are one of the few granted access to this world, so remember to be grateful, humble, and respectful.]
[Reward: Skill "Territory Creation"]
A thrill shot through me as the new achievement description flashed before my eyes. My brain practically demanded that I unlock this reward and dive into every detail… But as much as I wanted to explore my new magic right then and there, I had to hold back. So I just swallowed hard, postponing the moment. Another gift from the universe — a gift I'd avoid if I had a choice. Entering a place like this? As a mage? No, thank you. A place where every misstep could lead straight to death… The only real question is whose hands it would be in: a ruthless mage, an ancient monster… or the planet itself.
"Honestly, this is the best birthday gift I've ever had!" I turned to Tomoe, giving her a grateful smile.
Ever been given a trip to the Youkai world as a present? Well, I have. And as a bonus, I even picked up some new magic.
"Glad you like it," Tomoe replied with a faint smile, a touch of pride shining through.
"Ahem," Sorai cleared his throat softly, drawing our attention. His face remained impassive, but something almost ceremonial glinted in his eyes. "Welcome to Urakyoto."
I looked around slowly, and the first thing that struck me was this strange sense of familiarity. It felt like someone had taken a piece of the human world and brought it here, replicating everything down to the smallest details. In front of me stood a temple that looked remarkably like Ginkaku-ji — same roof curves, intricate wooden structures weathered by time and rain, even the characteristic lanterns lining the paths. It was as if we'd never left our world.
"Think of this as a kind of border post," Sorai explained, catching my puzzled look. "These points are scattered throughout Urakyoto. They're modeled after human sites, so the difference is barely noticeable."
"But why go to such lengths for accuracy?" I frowned, trying to make sense of it.
Sorai hesitated for a moment, as if he were deciding whether to answer or just unsure how to phrase his thoughts.
"It's more of a tradition than a necessity," Senko interjected, her voice taking on a teacher-like tone. "These places are called 'anchors.' Their purpose isn't just to teleport us here — a regular teleportation circle could handle that. The main goal is to keep Urakyoto's coordinates fixed relative to the human world, so it doesn't drift through the Space Between Worlds."
An idea flickered in my mind, as intriguing as it was dangerous: if I could pinpoint the locations of all the 'anchors' tethering Urakyoto to the human world, then, theoretically, by destroying them, I could annihilate this entire dimension. Without the ley lines sustaining Urakyoto's barrier, this world would simply fall apart, dissolving into the chaos of the Space Between Worlds as if it had never existed. I could be the reason an entire world disappears.
Total erasure of reality — it's a terrifyingly dark and brutal thought.
Of course, all of this was just theoretical musings from my slightly overactive imagination. The main hitch is actually locating enough of these anchors. Destroying a couple? I'd hope that wouldn't be enough. Most likely, all the anchors are part of a complex network of binding points, intricately woven with other magical structures. That would make sense. And naturally, it would be far more secure. A system like that would be a lot harder to break…
Funny thing is, I find myself thinking more and more lately about how one might go about ending a world. Not that I actually plan to carry it out, of course, but in figuring out how to counter it. For some reason, it fascinates me… Can I call myself a true Alchemist of Atlas now?
"This isn't supposed to be too dangerous, right?" I asked, glancing between Sorai and Senko. "What's more concerning is that these barriers might be easy to detect from the human world."
"Kyoto has so many different barriers in place that even an experienced specialist would struggle to identify which ones are connected to Urakyoto," Sorai replied confidently, crossing his arms as if he'd already anticipated my question. "We've taken that into account."
But have you considered that someone might conduct reconnaissance and locate these 'anchors'? I smirked to myself, though saying it out loud probably wasn't the smartest idea. Better to keep those thoughts to myself.
"Kyoto ranks second in the world for the number of magical barriers installed," Tomoe added with a slight smile, as if discussing something as obvious as the weather.
"That's why Sorai reacted the way he did to your question," Senko continued, seamlessly picking up the thread of conversation. "The only way to identify the barriers linked to Urakyoto is to compare the buildings they're tied to."
"Which is nearly impossible, considering Urakyoto is significantly larger than Kyoto itself," Sorai added, squinting slightly, as if trying to gauge how much that information impressed me.
"You know the weakness of the barrier sustaining your world, and instead of fixing it, you're trying to convince me no one can exploit it?" I couldn't resist saying. "Not that it's my place to give advice, but that sounds, to put it mildly, pretty foolish."
"Traditions," Mom said, almost indifferently, though a hint of disdain crept into her voice. As expected from someone who never had much patience for pointless formalities.
"Unpleasant as it is to agree with Mikoto, yes, it's tradition," Senko replied, clicking her tongue.
"Even so," Sorai interjected, clearly unwilling to miss a chance to defend his stance, "there are places in Urakyoto where even Lady Senko and I are forbidden entry. So, finding all the anchors, let alone destroying them, is impossible."
"Even your best friend isn't allowed in?" Mom chimed in, draping an arm around Senko. She'd been standing off to the side, watching our exchange with an amused smile, as if this were all just a game.
Senko rolled her eyes, ignoring Mom's jab and not bothering to respond to such an obvious provocation.
And with that, we left the temple, heading north — or at least what I assumed was north. In a place like this, I couldn't be entirely sure that the familiar cardinal directions even applied.