[The ayakashi wails in a child's voice, curling in on itself as the holy water gurgles into its wound and hands fly, severed, like twigs from a gardener's blade.
Another blast of light from the others finishes the job: unable to fight back, it curls up, screeching and helpless.]
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Another blast of light from the others finishes the job: unable to fight back, it curls up, screeching and helpless.]