Chapter 7: Spider Cutter

How many shrines are there in Japan?

It is likely that even if one were to gather every record from both Shinto and Buddhism, the answer would remain unknown. Active, abandoned, semi-abandoned, private, famous, obscure—shrines of all sizes are as numerous as the stars. Even for the authorities, a thorough investigation is no simple task. After all, in this island nation, even a single stone can be treated as a deity and enshrined in a shrine.

"Damn it... we’ve checked three shrines already. Is there really not a single piece of useful information in any of them?"

"We’ve barely scratched the surface, kid. There’s plenty more suffering to come, Saito."

"When you put it like that, Inoue-senpai, I feel like our prospects are hopeless. Why weren't we assigned to the team checking Kasuga Taisha?"

Inoue, a middle-aged policeman with a bushy beard, chatted with young Saito as they walked. Their captain, Ishikawa Etsu, accompanied them. To improve efficiency, their group had split into several teams. So far, they had explored three shrines in Nara City with nothing to show for it; one team member had even been rammed by a deer after failing to keep his distance.

Their search area encompassed the entire Nara Prefecture, which contained eleven villages alone. With so few personnel, the only thing to be happy about was the expense reimbursement policy.

"Stop complaining. We should be there soon," Ishikawa said. They had volunteered to leave Nara City to search shrines in the remote areas, which was their method of increasing efficiency. Their current destination was a shrine that had been described as "abandoned" by an old local resident.

Just before lunch, the three finally found the place: an ancient, simple shrine hidden deep in the mountains, long since forsaken.

The wooden torii gate was weathered by time. Everywhere they looked, cobwebs and the spiders clinging to them proved it had been deserted for ages. The white shimenawa rope was covered in dust and snapped in two, and the tamagaki fence surrounding the shrine was fractured by the passage of years. The divine messengers guarding the entrance were a pair of komainu statues, also buried under a thick layer of grime.

Looking at the dilapidated shrine, Ishikawa took one glance and determined there were no signs of human activity. If someone had stepped here, the thick dust would have inevitably shown tracks. Though it might be another wasted trip, they decided to inspect it, following the rule that since they had already come all this way, they might as well look.

The three walked slowly through the torii and reached the ruined shrine. While modern shrines have complex structures—consisting of a main hall, an offering hall, and a worship hall—this one was simple, possessing only a single main hall.

"I wonder which deity this shrine is dedicated to," Inoue Matsumoto said, clicking on his flashlight to illuminate the dim interior.

"In a small shrine like this, even if it’s dedicated to something, it would just be some minor yokai or spirit. Nothing worth seeing," Saito said while looking around. It was a conclusion born of experience.

"This is... a spider?" To Inoue's surprise, the walls of the shrine were carved with murals, and the subject was a strange-looking giant spider: a demon’s face, a tiger’s body, and spider legs.

"Tsuchigumo?"

As a widely known yokai in Japan, the name of the Earth Spider was familiar even to those not versed in folklore. To this day, the image of this creature is still broadcast on screens and well-received.

"But using a Tsuchigumo as an object of worship is a bit too abstract, isn't it? No wonder this shrine fell into ruin," Saito remarked. Inoue nodded in agreement.

Although Japan has all sorts of strange deities, worshipping such a blatantly cruel yokai is quite bizarre. It wasn't like Shuten-doji or the Great Tengu—yokai with greater fame and appearances closer to human aesthetics. Who would want to worship a spider? It wasn't even a female one.

As the older and younger men inspected the walls, Ishikawa approached the enshrined statue. It was a massive clay figure of a Tsuchigumo, the size of a human head. Its lifelike craftsmanship made one feel a sense of dread just looking at it.

Ishikawa spotted three fortune slips placed in front of the statue. He picked them up, his eyes narrowing. The slips felt soft to the touch, as light as clouds, and the handwriting was so clear it gave him the impression that the ink had only just dried. Yet, they had checked: other than insects, there were truly no human footprints here. What was going on with these fortune slips? Surely, this type of paper hadn't existed long ago.

Rubbing the slips, he focused on the text: "Great Misfortune."

All three were marked as Great Misfortune. For some reason, the moment he saw those words, a bad premonition arose in his heart. His chest felt tight, as if something ominous were approaching. He shook his head slightly, pushing the thought away.

In their line of work, strange feelings occurred every day. It wasn't as if the Tsuchigumo slain by Minamoto no Raiko was waiting to be resurrected right beneath their feet, haha...

*Boom.*

Suddenly, a strange, muffled sound erupted, seemingly from deep underground or perhaps from thin air.

"Did you guys hear that?" Ishikawa asked his subordinates, who were still checking the walls.

"It sounded like it came from beneath our feet. Is there going to be an earthquake?" Saito asked, looking confused. He wasn't particularly nervous. As a country prone to earthquakes, they had long since summarized the rules: small quakes don't require running, and big ones are impossible to escape. Japan was an island nation; if a massive earthquake truly struck, one might be trampled to death by the panicked crowds before the quake even killed them. Of course, talk is cheap—if the time came, they would still run.

"I think I heard something roaring," Inoue said.

"Probably a bear or some other wild beast. We are in the forest, after all," Saito guessed. Japan's high forest coverage had always been a paradise for animals. Coupled with the fact that many young people were leaving their impoverished hometowns for big cities like Tokyo or Osaka, many rural villages were becoming gathering grounds for wild animals. He wasn't panicked; they had brought weapons. The three of them were elites from the Metropolitan Police Department—a mere black bear wouldn't get near them before they emptied their magazines.

*Boom.*

Another tremor, this time accompanied by a clearer, unidentifiable roar that all three could hear. This time, they all agreed: the sound originated from underground.

"What is going on?" Ishikawa frowned. How could there be a roar from underground?

*Boom.*

*Crack.*

A third tremor, accompanied by the crisp sound of shattering porcelain. The three looked toward the source and saw the clay Tsuchigumo statue suddenly split open. A small square space in its back revealed its true contents: a pitch-black hilt and a silver blade flickering with a cold glint in the dim shrine.

"Is this an artifact? A sword?" Saito stepped forward, curious.

"Spider-slayer in the mountain, the beast falls to the night... Spider-Cutter!?" Saito’s voice rose an octave.

They read the inscription on the blade and froze. Why did that inscription seem so familiar? Inoue subconsciously thought of the patterns of legendary swords in exhibition catalogs. Wasn't the Spider-Cutter supposed to be in a museum on display? A replica?

The moment that thought crossed their minds:

"Boom!"

"ROAR!"

The tremor was much closer this time. Everyone felt the earth beneath their feet shake and heard the roar of some creature. The roar was so terrifying that it made their limbs turn cold, making it hard to stand.

*Crack.*

The clay Tsuchigumo statue shattered completely. Shards flew everywhere, revealing the rest of the blade. Feeling the earth quake, Ishikawa suppressed his inner panic, grabbed the other two, and ran out of the shrine.

As soon as their feet left the shrine's perimeter, a sound of soil and stone rupturing echoed. The shrine behind them suddenly shot up by nearly ten meters. Rocks rolled and tumbled; the ancient structure turned to ruins in an instant. Amidst the swirling dust and debris, a colossal monster rose from the ground. Eight "blades" pierced through the dust, accompanied by a thunderous roar.

"MINAMOTO! NO! RAIKO!"

The roar sent birds scattering and wild beasts into a frenzy. A fierce, murderous aura loomed over the forest.

"Gulp... what is that thing!" Not far away, Toyama Kazuha watched the nerve-wracking scene in terror, while Hattori Heiji’s eyes went wide.

...

Not long before, Hattori Heiji and Toyama Kazuha had been crouching outside the shrine. Soon after, they heard a cry of surprise from within.

"Spider-Cutter!?"

Hattori immediately snapped to attention. "Are those guys here for the artifacts?"

Kazuha urged him, "There are three of them and only two of us. It’s better to observe the situation first."

Hardly had she finished speaking when they saw the three men dash out in a panic. Before they could even process their confusion, the shrine rose from the earth, bringing with it an existence that transcended their senses.