Pathway to Japanese Literature

“Seven Misaki”

I was born along the coast south of Kochi City, and in my boyhood years often heard tell of these Misaki. Hearing stories of formless, shadowless phantoms filled a child's heart with both doubt and dread.

"That person fell ill after encountering the Seven Misaki."

Whenever someone took sick or died suddenly while abroad, all would attribute it to the Seven Misaki's doing. Some summoned ascetics to perform incantations and drive off these Seven Misaki. To this day, terror of the Seven Misaki lives within my very nerves.

To tell the legend of the Seven Misaki, one must first begin with the legend pertaining to the Eight Misaki.

On October 4th, Tenshō 16 (1588), Lord Chōsokabe Motochika—who had only recently relocated from Okō to Ōtakasa and was still mid-construction of his new castle—gathered his clan elders and senior retainers within the castle to hold a council on succession.
This was because his eldest son Nobusama had died in battle at Bekkawa River in Bungo, so he intended to make his fourth son Morichika his heir and have him marry Nobusama’s daughter.

Motochika had a second son named Kagawa Chikakazu, but since he had died the previous year, the succession should naturally have come to the third son, Tsuno Tadachika. Moreover, taking his elder brother’s daughter as his wife was an extreme act of impropriety. All men of conscience frowned, but all, fearing Motochika’s intentions, refrained from speaking out.

“I believe that since our house has Lord Sojirō, it would be natural to make Lord Sojirō the heir.”

A steely voice rang out from one corner.
All turned their gaze in that direction.
There appeared the pale face of a compact-built man.
This was Kira Sakyonosuke Chikazane.
As son to Motochika’s younger brother and husband to Motochika’s own daughter, he stood doubly bound by blood.
Chikazane had first received Hirooka Kira Mine Castle as his fief before transferring his seat to Hasuike.

“Moreover, taking one’s elder brother’s daughter as his wife strikes me as an act that defies all human ethics.”

Sakyonosuke looked fixedly in Motochika’s direction.

“As Lord Kira has stated, to set aside Lord Sojirō and make Chikumamaru your heir is something I fear would disrupt the proper order.”

From Chikazane’s right side came words.
That speaker was Sakyonosuke’s relative, Hieyama Chikaoki.

“While Lord Kira’s argument holds some merit, I believe it is only natural that matters of the house should be decided by the one who becomes its head.”

Hisatake Kuranosuke Chikashige, the chief retainer, refuted Sakyonosuke’s argument.
Kuranosuke had succeeded his father, Kuranosuke Chikanao, as lord of Sakawa. When presenting timber for the Great Buddha Hall’s construction—while overseeing the lumber at the Niyodo River shallows under Motochika’s orders—Kira Sakyonosuke Chikazane arrived with several men to hunt.
The arrogant Kuranosuke used his duties as a pretext to ignore them, prompting the hot-blooded Chikazane to loose an arrow in rage.
The arrow struck Kuranosuke’s hat with a resounding clang.
Kuranosuke had nursed that resentment ever since.

“No matter how much one may be the head of a house, they must not stray from the path of righteousness. For a retainer to not only fail to admonish his lord when he falls into injustice but even abet that injustice—this is an utterly unconscionable act!”

Sakyonosuke glared at Kuranosuke.
The assembly fell deathly silent.

“Lord Kira speaks of matters most bizarre,” Kuranosuke countered. “Our lord, in his profound grief over Lord Nobusama’s death in battle, seeks solace by making that princess Chikumamaru’s consort—to forget his sorrow through this union. Yet without even considering this, you rant on about trifles—such conduct strikes me as the height of unfilial impiety.”

Chikashige was not about to back down either.

“What unfilial impiety? When our lord teeters on the brink of injustice, I seek to prevent his fall through admonishment—and when one such as you—a man devoid of virtue—spews flatteries that would make him stray from righteousness, to resist this—what unfilial impiety lies in that?”

“Enough. Cease your prattling.”

Motochika, who had been sitting with an unpleasant expression, suddenly stood up and withdrew into the inner chamber.

At that time, Kira Chikazane resided in Kodakasa—behind what is now the prefectural normal school. From that day forth, he was prohibited from appearing before Motochika. The time came for Hisatake Kuranosuke to exact his revenge at the Niyodo River. Day after day, Hisatake Kuranosuke slandered him at Motochika’s side.

Kuwana Yajibei and Sukumo Jin’emon—two men—were dispatched to the residence in Kodakasa by Motochika’s command. This occurred on October 14th, Tenshō 16 (1588). Chikazane was playing Go with a guest that day. When the messenger arrived with the news, Chikazane paused with his stone poised mid-air, seeming to consider for a moment—but—

“It seems emissaries have arrived. As I am currently engaged in a game of Go, have them wait until it concludes.”

He calmly placed the stone.
The guest also placed his stone in response, but his fingertips were trembling.
He was twenty-six years old at that time.
Before long, the game of Go came to an end.
After he and the guest examined the stones, he placed his own stones into the Go stone container and set it on the board.

“Well then, shall we receive the emissaries?”

He calmly made his way to the front reception room and welcomed the emissaries.
Kuwana Yajibei delivered Motochika’s command while staring at the tatami mats.

“I have indeed accepted your lord’s command. When a man’s fortune runs out, things go awry and perverse ways multiply. No house can stand through perverse ways—the House of Chōsokabe too shall not last these five or six years.”

Chikazane went to the bathhouse, washed his body with cold water, returned, and calmly committed suicide before the two men’s eyes.
The corpse was buried in Nishibun, Kizuka Village, Agawa District.

Those who incurred Motochika’s wrath and were condemned to die numbered eight others: Hieyama Chikaoki, Nagayoshi Hidanokami, Sōanji Shinsaidō, Kira Hikotayū, Jōnai Daishubō, Hiwa-da Yosozaburō, Kojima Jinshirō, and Shōgano Jirōbei Sanenobu.
Among these, Nakajima Kichiemon and Yokoyama Shūri were dispatched as emissaries to Hieyama Chikaoki.
Chikaoki was lord of Hiyoshi Castle in Hie Village, Nagaoka District, and one of the senior retainers of the House of Chōsokabe.
Chikaoki had just begun constructing his residence in Odo, north of Ōtakasaka Castle, at that time.

To Shōgano Jirōbei, he sent Doi Hizen Katsuyuki.
Katsuyuki was less an emissary and more a slaughter envoy.
Shōgano Jirōbei was a retainer of Chikazane and was in Hasuike.

“Shōgano is a man of renowned skill—do not act rashly and botch this.”

Motochika cautioned Katsuyuki.
Katsuyuki departed the castle and turned westward.

“Lord Doi – where might you be bound?”

After someone called out to Katsuyuki, two samurai came up from behind.
The two men—Shionomino Yasō and Nonaka Genbei—were close companions of Katsuyuki.

"I'm off to Hasuike Castle to claim Shōgano's head."

When Katsuyuki explained the reason, the two men declared they would accompany him.

"As this is Lord Motochika's command, I cannot bring you all with me."

Katsuyuki refused.
There arrived two more samurai.
They were Kitadai Ichiemon and his nephew Kitadai Shirōuemon.

"What business have you all here?"

Ichiemon said.
When Ichiemon and his nephew heard about Katsuyuki’s grave mission, they too declared they would go along.
Katsuyuki reluctantly took four reinforcements with him and went.

Jirōbei’s house stood at the southeastern foothills of Hasuike Castle.
A road ran past the front of the house.
The figures of five men coming down that road came into Jirōbei’s view.
When the five men approached the entrance, Jirōbei came out wearing two swords.

“I have just learned that Lord Sakyonosuke was compelled to take his own life—yet was he not Lord Motochika’s own nephew-in-law? Had this Shōgano been there, I would never have permitted such a baseless act of seppuku. A most regrettable affair indeed. But you all must have come here to strike me down, no? Well then—since you’ve traveled so far—shall I offer you porridge?”

Jirōbei sneered with these words.

“In truth, Lord Motochika declared that while Lord Sakyonosuke was made to commit seppuku for his treachery, Shōgano Jirōbei shall face no consequences—your domain remains secure. We merely come to receive succession of Lord Sakyonosuke’s castle.”

Katsuyuki spoke these words to put Jirōbei at ease while seeking an opening to strike.

“Did Lord Motochika truly say such folly? ‘When the lord is shamed, the vassal dies.’ Can a stipend-fed man live in comfort after letting his master be slain? Lord Motochika is a witless fool. This is like luring a child with candy—a pitiful ploy.”

Jirōbei shrugged his shoulders and laughed.
He kept laughing while maintaining an unbroken guard.

Katsuyuki and his men were waiting for an opening.
The space between both sides was charged with murderous intensity.
Jirōbei calmly drew his long sword and thrust it forward.

“This is the work of Shinji Tarō Kunimitsu. Should we cross blades with this, even if all of you attack at once, it will prove no match.”

Having said that, he smirked and sheathed it.
And then, he drew his short sword and thrust it forward.

“This is a hair-splitting blade forged by the renowned smith Oshu Tsukiyama. Should we cross blades with this, I could cut through five—nay, ten—of you all at the waist.”

Jirōbei sheathed his short sword once more with these words.
And just as two or three inches remained at the scabbard’s mouth, Shionomino Yasō—

“As you command,” he said and lunged with a slash.

“What nonsense—you…!”

Jirōbei suddenly struck Shionomino below the breast, cutting him in two at the torso, then with his returning blade struck down Nonaka Genbei. He leapt from the entrance to the front garden. Katsuyuki and the two Kitadai chased after Jirōbei to the front garden and clashed swords.

Kitadai Shirōuemon tripped over a garden tree root and staggered.
Jirōbei’s blade struck his hip joint.
Shirōuemon collapsed.
“Vengeance for my nephew!”

Ichiemon pressed in with a furious slash.
However, he could not close in on Jirōbei’s guard.
Ichiemon had thought of something.

“Lord Doi, I’ll rest here exhausted from the fray—you put in some real effort.”

Ichiemon said this, drew back his sword, and retreated backward.
Jirōbei and Katsuyuki clashed swords without exchanging a word.
Both sides had accumulated numerous wounds.
Ichiemon sneaked up behind Jirōbei and slashed at both his legs.
Jirōbei fell backward.
As he fell,

“You’ve outwitted me?”

With that, he turned his short sword into a shuriken and hurled it toward Ichiemon.
The short sword pierced Ichiemon’s lower abdomen.
Katsuyuki was able to take Jirōbei’s head.

Jirōbei’s grave lay in a field at the southeastern foothills of Hasuike Castle. There stood the estate of a landed gentry family called Senzu, reminiscent of Jirōbei’s former residence. Hasuike Castle stood upon a small hill, and it was said that even now, burnt rice from the castle’s military provisions still emerged there.

In August 1920, I climbed up to the ruins of Hasuike Castle, found a large red mushroom in its woods and picked it, then descended to see in the fields what villagers called "Lord Shōgano's" grave—the tomb of that Jirōbei.

Tsunehachi the ferryman was making straw sandals while tending a fire inside the ferry hut.
It was a quiet evening, and the water of the Niyodo River flowing before the hut made a monotonous rushing sound.
Tsunehachi, thinking he likely had no more customers and should turn in, continued threading straw from one vertical rope to another.

“Ferry…”

A loud voice came from the western embankment that had become the near shore.
Tsunehachi stopped his hands from weaving the straw sandals.

“Ferry…”

Another loud voice came.

“Hey—”

Lured by the voice, Tsunehachi replied as he—

“What a nuisance at this late hour.”

Tsunehachi heaved himself up and went outside.
It was a dark evening, and the river water here and there glinted with a leaden gleam.
When he reached the ferry boat anchored at the shallows with a stone weight, Tsunehachi crouched down, grabbed the weighted stone to board the vessel, then planted his water pole against the current.

“Ferry…”

The third call shuddered through his eardrums, echoing.

“Heeey”

The boat reached midstream.
Tsunehachi replaced the water pole with a rudder, cutting through the current as he guided the vessel.
The boat made for the opposite shore.
Its hull scraped against the shallows' stones with a gritty rasp.
Tsunehachi stood at the stern, planting his water pole firmly as he awaited passengers.

"Is the boat prepared?"

The voice seemed to emanate from nowhere.
Tsunehachi cowered under its imperious weight,

"It is ready."

he replied.

There was a sensation as though several people had boarded the boat, causing it to grow heavier, yet no visible forms could be seen.
Tsunehachi wondered whether his own eyes were playing tricks and inspected the boat anew.
Still there was no shadow of anything.

“Hurry and take us to the opposite shore.”

A voice sounded right beside him, yet still no shadow was visible.
Tsunehachi's hands gripping the water pole trembled violently.
And in a frenzy, he pushed the boat off.

“We are Lord Sakyonosuke of Hasuike. We go now to Ōtakasaka to make these treacherous schemers witness their folly. Soon even your ears shall hear strange matters unfold, but fear not—no blame falls upon you. You shall bear us again in this boat upon our return.”

The boat reached the eastern shore before he knew it.
Tsunehachi, upon coming to his senses, leapt from the boat and fled into the ferry hut.

The deaths of the eight men beginning with Chikazane deeply stirred people's sympathies. Alongside this, mysterious fires would erupt at Chikazane's Kotakasaka residence and the Kizuka Village gravesite, while bullet-like fireballs streaked through the air—those struck might meet instant death or fall gravely ill. People began declaring these were manifestations of eight vengeful spirits. The rumors of these terrifying Eight Misaki vengeful spirits swelled outward from Ōtakasaka as their epicenter. Word also spread of uncanny phenomena witnessed by the Niyodo River ferryman.

It was around that time.

At Hisatake Kuranosuke’s residence, the youngest boy—about five or six years old—had come out to the garden and was playing, cheered on by his wet nurse and maidservants. The child scampered away from the wet nurse’s side and made his way toward the base of the pine tree at the garden’s edge. There lay his favorite small dog, sleeping on its back with its white belly exposed against the sand.

“Woof woof!”

The child was imitating the dog’s bark. From beside the pine tree emerged a white-haired woman in her fifties. The wet nurse fixed her eyes on this woman, suspicious of what business she might have in the garden’s front area.

“What a comely young lord you are.”

The elderly woman spoke these words and approached the boy, placing a single hand on his shoulder.
The boy let out a loud wail.
No sooner had he cried out than he fell onto his back and lay motionless.
When the wet nurse cried out in surprise, the two maidservants who had been at the rear also came running in alarm.

“Water, water!”

The wet nurse picked up the boy and ran toward the veranda.
The maidservants panicked and ran about the garden.

“The young lord is in trouble! The young lord is in trouble!”

As the wet nurse was about to step up onto the veranda, the boy regained his breath and began to cry. The figure of the eerie old woman was no longer visible in the garden. The boy fell ill just like that. Because it was a mysterious illness, at Hisatake’s residence they summoned a priest from the temple to perform prayers. The priest sat at the child’s bedside and chanted sutras in a low voice.

The boy suddenly sat up and began running around the tatami room.

“How can we let villains live? We won’t let villains live!”

And then, he flipped over again and began twitching his limbs.
The priest desperately chanted sutras.
Sweat beaded on the priest’s face.

“How can we let villains live? We won’t let villains live!”

The child shouted these words once more as he writhed and thrashed about on the tatami mats.

“How can we let villains live? We won’t let villains live!”

When dawn broke after that night of madness, while still running wild through the tatami room, the child suddenly collapsed and died where he fell.

Even the cruel Kuranosuke was terrified by this.
He invited several priests from other temples as well to perform prayers to exorcise the evil spirits.
The seventh night since the boy’s death arrived.
The priests were performing prayers before the Buddhist altar.

Kuranosuke and his wife were in the next room talking about the boy who had died.
Tears filled his wife’s eyes.
In the adjacent room was where the eldest child stayed.
The eldest child was twelve or thirteen.

“Namu Amida Butsu.”

A voice uttering “Namu Amida Butsu” was heard from the eldest son’s room.
The startled couple rushed into the room.
The eldest son sat at the room’s center, a dagger thrust into his abdomen as he writhed in agony.
Kuranosuke grabbed from behind the boy’s hand that clutched the dagger, gripping it with force.

“Why would you do this?”

Kuranosuke said in a trembling voice.
The wife also collapsed in tears before the eldest son.

“By Lord Motochika’s decree, two emissaries came and were forced to commit seppuku.”

The boy spoke with apparent difficulty and caught his breath.
Then he succumbed.

Whether driven mad by grief over her two murdered children or for some other reason, Kuranosuke’s wife took her own life that same night.
Kuranosuke had eight children in total, but after they all met unnatural deaths one after another, only the youngest boy remained—the very child who would later flee with Kuranosuke toward Hyūga when the Chōsokabe clan met its downfall.

Satsuki Shinzaburō, a cousin of Hisatake Kuranosuke, went to Kotakasaka one evening and was passing by Chikazane’s residence.
It was a warm evening lit by a pale moon.
When he suddenly looked, a fair-skinned woman who appeared to be sixteen or seventeen stood alone.
On a desolate roadside devoid of passersby, the sight of a young girl standing there was strange, so—

(Could this be an apparition?)

Shinzaburō observed her carefully but detected nothing suspicious in her bearing.
Yet her dejected posture suggested she was wrestling with some grave dilemma—so profoundly distressed did she appear that he approached and addressed her.

“What brings a young lady like yourself out alone at this late hour?”

Upon closer inspection, she wore garments of fine quality.
The woman stared wordlessly at Shinzaburō with frightened eyes.

“I am Satsuki Shinzaburō—you need not fear any ill intent from me.”

“I am from Shindenji, but last year I married into Kunisawa. However, my husband took another woman and cast me aside, so I thought to throw myself into Fuchigawa River and end my life. But in Shindenji I have a mother, and if anything were to happen to me, I imagined how she would grieve. Thus I couldn’t bring myself to die. At any rate, I set out for Shindenji thinking I would see my mother one last time. I slipped away from Kunisawa in the evening, but fearing pursuit, I decided to take a roundabout path. That’s how I came here, but now I’m terrified and at my wit’s end.”

Having said this, the woman showed tears.
Shinzaburō found it touching.

“In that case, I shall escort you to Shindenji Temple.”

“Thank you for that, but I couldn’t possibly impose on you to do such a thing for someone from a distant place.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I’ve no other business tonight, so I shall escort you.”
“In that case, I shall accept your kind offer,”

Having said this, the woman once again made a troubled face and lowered her eyes to her feet.

“Moreover, being unaccustomed to walking night roads, I’ve injured my feet and am in distress.”

Shinzaburō thought to carry her on his back.

"In that case, I shall carry you."

The woman laughed bashfully.
Her laughter held undeniable sensuality.
Shinzaburō promptly crouched down.

"Come now, do not hesitate."

A fragrant form drifted softly against his back.
Shinzaburō rose and walked with effortless ease.

After walking about fifty meters, it was as if a massive boulder had settled on Shinzaburō’s back, rendering him immobile.
Shinzaburō turned around in surprise.
On his back was a terrifying demon's face.
Moonlight glinted on two long horns.

"You fiend!"

Shinzaburō suddenly tried to throw off the strange creature.
Then, a large hand grasped Shinzaburō’s neck, and his body floated into the air.
The bold Shinzaburō drew the sword at his waist and swung it through empty air.
Shinzaburō’s body fell into the rice field.

Shinzaburō stood up in the rice field.
Dawn was breaking, and the sky where the stars had grown sparse caught his eye.
He picked up the sword, climbed onto the rice field ridge, and emerged onto a small path.

A single palanquin came from the opposite direction.
Shinzaburō thought it would be mortifying to be seen in such a state, but with no other place to avoid on the single path, he attempted to let the palanquin pass by stepping one foot into the rice field.
The palanquin’s curtain was rolled up.
Inside the palanquin was the figure of Kira Sakyonosuke.

“Ah, Mr. Satsuki—I see you are in good health.”

The moment Shinzaburō heard that voice, he collapsed and died.

The rumors of the Eight Misaki grew more intense with each passing day.
The rumors reached even Motochika’s ears.
Motochika scoffed.

“What are these cowards spouting? How could such absurdity be endured?”

The terrifying fireballs flew even into the castle.
Some struck by those fireballs went mad; others fell ill.
One young samurai attending Motochika also encountered those fireballs, fell ill, and ultimately perished.
Motochika, shocked by this, ordered temples throughout the castle town to conduct prayers.

At the temple, following his command, they crafted eight mortuary tablets and placed them upon the altar in the main hall, where dozens of monks stood before them and began chanting sutras.
The townspeople of the castle town, having heard of these prayers, gathered at the temple to witness the spectacle.

The sutra chanting was conducted solemnly.
The gathered spectators listened attentively to the sutra chanting and fell silent.
Then, the eight mortuary tablets arranged on the altar began to move.
When Chikazane’s mortuary tablet fell from the altar first as though leaping down, the remaining tablets tumbled after it in succession.
The monks, terrified, fell silent in their sutra chanting.
Before Chikazane’s mortuary tablet, the mortuary tablets formed a line and departed from the main hall.
Both the monks and spectators seemed to have their vision blurred, and none could see it clearly.
The mortuary tablets had vanished without a trace.
Then, laughter from several people could be heard in the sky.

When news of the mysterious mortuary tablets reached Motochika’s ears, even he began to regret having killed Chikazane and the eight others.
He ordered grand memorial services lasting two days and three nights at temples across the province.
At temples across the land that had received the lord’s command, memorial services commenced—but as the sutra chanting continued, all the monks’ necks appeared to wrench sharply to the right before freezing in place.

When Motochika heard of this, he gathered his retainers before him and deliberated methods to appease the Eight Vengeful Spirits.

The young attendant serving nearby suddenly began acting as if possessed by madness and declared.

“I am an envoy of Lord Sakyonosuke. Should you enshrine Sakyonosuke as a deity, he shall accept this gladly.”

Chikazane’s grave in Kizuka was lavishly rebuilt and consecrated as a shrine.
This became known as Kizuka Myōjin.
The hauntings of the Eight Misaki dwindled following this enshrinement. Yet still there were those who fell ill or met sudden deaths after claiming encounters with these vengeful spirits—and so all lived in profound dread of them.

It was when Hieyama Chikaoki was made to commit seppuku by Motochika's emissaries.
Chikaoki whispered to a single retainer and sent him to his own castle in Hie Village.
This was to evacuate his wife and children.
Chikaoki had five children.

His wife, informed by a retainer's message, took her five children and stole away that night to Chōfuku Temple in Shinkai Village.
The chief priest of Chōfuku Temple was one who had received Hieyama's patronage.
The priest hid the six in the detached house and, to prevent anyone from learning of them, prepared rice balls at mealtimes which he personally carried there.

“Even at the cost of this humble monk’s life, I shall ensure you, my lady, and your children remain safely hidden.”

The chief priest comforted the six individuals with these words.
Meanwhile, on Motochika’s side—having dispatched emissaries to Hiyoshi Castle with intent to eliminate Chikaoki’s wife and children—he sent men to search the vicinity when it became clear they had already fled.

“A reward of gold will be given to those who report the whereabouts of Chikaoki’s wife and children.”

He issued such a proclamation.
The villagers of Ueta saw the six individuals pass through the rice field path into Chōfuku Temple.
The villagers, their eyes clouded by greed, stepped forward as informants.

Dozens of assailants suddenly descended upon Chōfuku Temple.

“Hand over Hieyama’s wife and children.”

The chief priest was startled but resolved to deceive them if possible.

“Preposterous! I have no knowledge whatsoever of Hieyama’s wife and children hiding here.”

“Don’t lie! The Ueta villagers saw Hieyama’s wife and six children entering here and turned informant. And you still claim they aren’t here?”

The leader of the assailants rebuked the chief priest.

“But there are no such people here.”

“Arguing is pointless. Search the house and seize them.”

The assailants scrambled into the temple in a chaotic rush at their leader’s command.
The chief priest immediately ran toward the detached house to help the six people escape.
Three or four assailants chased after him and, restraining the priest as he tried to climb onto the engawa of the detached house, forced him down.
“My lady! Children! Hurry—hurry! The assailants are here—hurry!”

The chief priest shouted while being pinned down.
The assailants all converged on the spot.
The six individuals were bound with ropes.

The following day, Hieyama's wife and children—six in total—were dragged out to Hie Shallows.
Upon hearing that the six were to be executed, nearby people gathered and formed a ring around them to watch.

The six individuals bound with ropes were made to sit on the sand of the shallows.
The youngest girl kept crying as she looked toward her mother.
The executioner with the sword moved beside the girl.

It was at that moment.
The chief priest of Chōfuku Temple pushed through the crowd of spectators and emerged.
The chief priest, with eyes like a madman’s, glared back at the spectators.

“Is there anyone from Ueta here? What inhuman beasts you are! Can you not see how pitiful these ones being led to execution are? This grudge shall never be forgotten!”

The chief priest said this and reached for his waist.
At his waist was a single sword.
The chief priest drew that sword and, still standing, thrust it into his abdomen.
The crowd, terrified, let out a panicked cry and retreated backward.
The chief priest drew the blade across.
The executioner’s blade came down upon the girl’s neck at that very moment.

The corpses of the chief priest and Hieyama’s wife and children were buried in Shinkai Village that very day.

From that night onward, strange occurrences began in the vicinity. Fireballs flew through the air. On the roads, people dropped dead without warning, others went mad, and still others fell ill. Particularly among the Ueta villagers, these bizarre phenomena multiplied.

“Seven Misaki, Seven Misaki.”

The people chanted this in terror. Even in recent times, whenever Ueta villagers drew near the tomb of the Seven Misaki, uncanny events would unfailingly occur. After the Meiji Restoration too, there came an instance where two robust men went to cut grass there—but one man—

“Let’s not enter the Seven Misaki’s cemetery—they say the Ueta villagers are cursed.”

When he said this, one man laughed and,

"That's just old superstition. Do you really think such things could happen nowadays?"

Dismissing this, the two entered the cemetery together. As they were cutting grass, a black snake rose up like a pole and appeared before them.
The two men fled, abandoning their sickles and everything else.
The snake chased them for two or three blocks before finally disappearing from view.

The Seven Misaki we feared as boys seem to be none other than these Shinkai Seven Misaki.