Vescrutia: Legacy

[Continued From Here]

There were places upon Vescrutia where men raised walls to divide themselves.

Kingdoms that carved monuments into mountains so their rulers might outlive memory. Empires that measured greatness by the breadth of conquered lands. Cities whose towers reached toward the heavens in proud defiance of the earth that bore them.

The Inuki had built none of these.

Their homeland had never been founded to glorify a sovereign, nor to proclaim dominion over neighboring realms. It was not born from conquest, ambition, or wealth.

It had been built around a promise— a sacred duty that was older than living memory.

For nearly five thousand years, one people had stood watch so that the rest of the world would never have to.

Far beyond the eastern frontiers of civilization, where the Strata Mountains pierced the heavens like the jagged teeth of slumbering giants, the descendants of the lost kingdom of Vorelia had carved an entire civilization into living stone. Cities crowned impossible peaks, their alabaster walls gleaming beneath the perpetual embrace of sunlight. Vast suspension bridges stretched across chasms so immense that clouds drifted beneath them, while waterfalls thundered from the heights, vanishing into emerald valleys hidden beneath blankets of mist.

Ancient cedar forests cloaked the lower slopes, interrupted only by winding mountain roads and colossal watchforts whose weathered battlements had overlooked the same forgotten passes since before most kingdoms had drawn their first breath.
To the wandering traveler, it was a vista worthy of legend.

To the Inuki, it was a fortress.

Every cliff had been measured.

Every valley fortified.

Every mountain pass was mapped, named, and watched without interruption for fifty centuries.

For hidden beneath those majestic peaks rested one of the oldest wounds in existence.

It was there, in an age so distant that history itself had surrendered to myth, that the destruction of Vorelia tore open the veil separating the physical world from the Demon Realm. The cataclysm did not merely destroy a kingdom—it wounded reality itself.

Though lesser fractures would emerge throughout Vescrutia in the millennia that followed, none rivaled the ancient breach sleeping beneath the Strata Mountains.

Even after five thousand years, It refused to heal.

Like an infected scar buried within the bones of the world, it pulsed ceaselessly with corruption, forever pressing against the boundaries of creation. Black mist seeped through unseen cracks. Whispers echoed from caverns no mortal had ever fully explored. And from time to time, creatures born of misery and oblivion clawed their way into the realm of the living.

Most nations knew the Demon Realm only through stories. The Inuki knew it by name, scent and sound.

Their children learned to distinguish the cries of demons before they learned the songs of birds. Wooden practice swords were placed into their hands almost as soon as they could walk, while their evenings were spent reciting the names of ancestors who had given their lives defending a world that would never know their sacrifice.

To an outsider, such a life might have seemed unbearably harsh.

But for them, It was simply childhood.

They were not a people born for war.. They had simply never been allowed peace.

The descendants of Vorelia remembered all too well what unrestrained ambition had wrought. Their ancestors had sought salvation through impossible power and, in doing so, condemned an entire civilization to oblivion. From those ashes arose a people who swore never to repeat that mistake.

They would not seek dominion, but instead bear the cross of their ancestors' responsibility.

Thus every fortress they raised overlooked the breach.. Every forge existed to arm another hunter.. Every archive preserved another lesson learned in blood.

And every temple built would honor not kings… But those who would never return.

Five thousand years passed.. Empires rose and crumbled. Languages were born, flourished, and disappeared beneath the tides of history.

Yet the Inuki remained; Unmoving and unyielding. Standing where their ancestors had once stood. Watching the same darkness.. Holding the same line. For they knew that they were the final bulwark between Vescrutia and the endless hunger lurking beyond the veil. And their Anthem reflected that sacred duty. Known throughout Vescrutia as Sol Requiem, the Inuki's anthem granted its bearers dominion over light in its purest form. It allowed veteran hunters to cross battlefields as living beams of sunlight in order to traverse impossible distances in moments, and reduce lesser demons to little more than drifting ash beneath overwhelming radiance.

To outsiders and Kingdoms privy of their capabilities, their Anthem seemed divine. Miraculous even, but the Inuki knew better than to believe in miracles.

There were no such things as miracles.. Like everything in this world, every use of their Anthem came at cost. Every spark and blaze of light slowly consumed the soul that fueled it.. And no one understood that truth more completely than the man who had carried the burden of New Vorelia's Celesrial Star for nearly eighteen centuries.

–

Morning bells echoed across the mountain sanctuary of New Vorelia.

The city had awakened only hours earlier.

Beneath the warm glow of dawn, blacksmiths raised their hammers against radiant alloys whose molten glow illuminated entire workshops in the fleeting shadows. Young initiates hurried through open courtyards carrying wooden practice swords while veteran instructors barked corrections with uncompromising discipline. Men draped in long flowing robes traced luminous sigils into the stone pathways that reinforced ancient protective wards surrounding the mountain. And merchants lined the streets, offering warm bread, dried meats, medicinal herbs, and polished equipment to warriors departing for patrol.

Everywhere one looked, life flourished.

Yet beneath that ordinary hustle and bustle of the waking city, lingered a quiet understanding.

Every citizen knew someone standing watch beyond the walls.. And every family was either waiting for someone to return, or feared they would not.

Then, as though answering those unspoken anxieties, the western gates slowly groaned open. And the clamor of conversation immediately gave way to a weary garrison of Inuki Hunters returning to their city.

They rode in on horseback, their once-pristine white armor had been scorched black and torn open by claws sharp enough to rend diamond fine filament. Those without the support of a steed leaned upon comrades just to remain upright, while others carried stretchers draped in immaculate white linen and haunting crimson stains.

No one spoke a word. No boasts of glory or cheers of pride upon their return.. Just a reverent silence for those who guarded their world, proceeded by the slow tolling of bronze bells echoing throughout the mountain citadel.

Citizens halted whatever they were doing and lowered their heads as the procession passed. Though sadly, no tears were shed on account of their heroics, as this ritual had become far too familiar.

Beyond the walls, far below the citadel's foundations within the depths of the mountain itself, arcane barriers shimmered like rivers of sunlight stretched across the cliffs. This was the Inuki's containment barrier.

Thousands of ancient runes interlocked into an immense lattice that created a partition that separated caverns no mortal architect had fully mapped. Every few moments, ripples of black mist pressed against its radiant surface before retreating once more. To tread beyond its glow was to venture through the breach and into Unseen.

Watching from silent balconies, veteran wardens carefully recorded each disturbance into enormous ledgers. They were the first defense against any demonic incursion that sought to test the might of Inuki innovation.

–

At the highest peak of the Strata Mountains stood the oldest structure in New Vorelia. The Hall of Luminaries. And the mighty edifice had stood strong long before the city beneath it.

Long before the great citadels, and thr litney of kingdoms that now dotted Vescrutia.

Legend claimed that the Hall had been built by the final survivors of Vorelia themselves, its foundation laid upon stone that had witnessed both the birth of the eldtrich breach and the oath that followed it.

..Whether such a tale was truth or embellishment no longer mattered. The Hall had endured all the same.

Though, unlike the gilded courts of foreign monarchs, its grandeur did not announce itself through extravagance. It inspired reverence through valor and memory. Massive stone pillars lined its interior, engraved with the names of every Inuki who had fallen defending Vescrutia. Overhead, sunlight poured through towering crystal windows overlooking the eastern mountains, flooding the chamber in warm gold so brilliant that the room seemed almost sacred.

And at its center rested a single circular table. And there was no throne or chair that stood higher than the others. Among the Inuki leadership was not measured by strength alone, it was measured by the share of burden.

And already assembled around the table sat a host of people entrusted with shouldering the burden, guilt, and duty of all of the Inuki Clan.

Among them was D'huro Inuki, the appointed Master of the clans Military Affairs. His body was built like an ancient fortress, broad enough to shame most warriors and marked by scars that crossed one another so frequently they resembled another form of armor. He spoke little, preferring certainty over speculation, and had personally commanded more breach expeditions than any living Inuki.

Beside him sat Aleena Inuki, Keeper of Intelligence and Communications. And where D'huro embodied strength, Euriel embodied perception. Maps, reports, coded messages, and battlefield correspondence passed through her hands before reaching anyone else's. Her network of scouts extended across every known kingdom, while countless observers quietly served beneath her without ever revealing their allegiance.

And standing silently behind the remaining chair was a solemn warrior known as Sai, and he was the Captain of the Radiant Guard.

Unlike the others, Sai never sat during any council meeting. His duty demanded that he remain prepared for violence at every moment. Whether that violence came from demon or man, his blade was expected to answer the threar with urgency and extreme prejudice.

Then, the chamber doors opened. And Raizen Inuki entered with slow, deliberate steps.

He was a giant of a man, standing well above six and a half feet, his broad shoulders still carrying the unmistakable frame of the warrior who had once led the charge into the breach hundreds of times. Robes of white trimmed in gold draped over powerful limbs weathered by nearly eighteen centuries of war.

Time had silvered what had once been golden hair, and deepened the lines upon his face into fine grooves. Yet none of these features diminished him. If anything… Age had only refined him.

His eyes remained the same twin suns of living silver. And they possessed neither wrath nor warmth. Only clarity. He possessed the quiet authority that commanded generations of men with nary a word. But through grit and action.

But then, just as Raizen settled into his chair, he covered his mouth before a violent cough escaped him. Dark crimson stained the white cloth in his hand. And for a brief moment, silence settled over the chamber. But without comment, Raizen folded the cloth and returned it to his sleeve. And that was that. No one acknowledged what they had witnessed.

For decades their sovereign had continued to lead the war against the Demon Realm despite the steady deterioration of his body. Years of channeling the full brilliance of the Anthem had left scars no healer could mend. During prolonged battle, portions of his flesh occasionally dissolved into living light before painfully reforming. His spirit, once indomitable, now showed signs of burning itself away beneath the overwhelming radiance it had commanded for centuries.

And yet…

Were the breach to erupt today…

There was no question that Raizen would still be the first to descend the mountain. No different than he had for centuries on end.

"The eastern caravans?” He said finally, settling his hands upon the table.

Euriel inclined her head.

"They crossed the final valley shortly before sunrise, Great Sovereign."

She said, performing an Ava that generated an intricate map of the Strata Mountains with tiny nodules of light slowly advanced along one of the eastern passes. “If there are no delays, our scouts estimate the Yaarou refugees to arrive within a matter of hours."

Raizen studied the glowing markers in silence. "..and their casualties?"

Euriel's expression grew solemn. "Significant." She traced her finger across the route the caravans had taken. "Most are civilians. Children. Elderly. The wounded. They travel with what little remained after the fall of Qiyoto."

Silence settled over the chamber. Every soul present understood what those words truly meant.

Qiyoto, The City of Hexes.

For nearly eleven thousand years it had stood as the heart of the Yaarou people, and until recently, remained the most prominent of the great three shinibi families. It was a city whose libraries contained knowledge lost to every other civilization, whose walls had withstood calamities that reshaped continents, and whose sorcerers were whispered about even in lands that feared speaking their name aloud.

And now, it was something that existed only in memory.

None of them celebrated its fall. Not even D'huro, who had once viewed the Yaarou with suspicion. To lose a city was a tragedy, but to lose a civilization was something else entirely.

Raizen finally broke the silence. "..How many survivors?"

"We cannot yet say." Euriel hesitated. "Our estimates continue to change. More stragglers have joined the caravans along the eastern roads." She lowered her eyes. "But we believe fewer than half escaped."

D'huro slowly folded his arms. "Such loss is nothing short of tragedy." He said with a slow nod as he settled into his chair "..However. . Their timing for asylum remains... fortunate."

Despite its callous undertones, none among them misunderstood D'huro's meaning.

For five thousand years the Inuki had fought an enemy that, while relentless, obeyed certain immutable laws. Dangerous, yes—but the caliber of their incursions had become uniform. Predictable. These creatures evolved slowly over centuries through endless predation, during which the Inuki had adapted alongside them.

Nearly 90% of Every known species had been dissected, with their behavior patterns documented into the Grand Bestiary and their weaknesses committed to memory. Their annals contained over three thousand confirmed classifications gathered throughout five millennia of warfare. So detailed nothing emerging from the breach should have been unfamiliar.

And yet, over the last year.. Entirely new forms had begun emerging from the great breach beneath the mountains. Larger. Smarter. Coordinated. Possessing abhorrent abilities never seen before. Until now..

D'huro rested both hands upon the table. "In the last eight months alone, we've lost four thousand forty-three hunters to this.. new breed of demon.."

"One thousand forty-eight," Euriel corrected quietly.

"The fifth expedition reported another five hundred deaths with the passing tour." The old commander's jaw tightened. "..that's nearly a century's worth of casualties.. within a single turn.”

The room fell silent once more. Even Sai's calloused mug softened his gaze.

For the first time since Vorelia's fall… the Inuki could feel themselves losing ground.

Even Raizen, as mighty as he still was, could no longer stand upon every battlefield. Age, relentless warfare, and the slow unraveling of his own soul had finally demanded a price.

If the Yaarou accepted sanctuary beneath the Inuki banner, they would bring with them something the clan desperately needed.

Power.

Throughout their storied history, the strength of the Yaarou Clan always proved formidable against any foe fated to face them. They were self-proclaimed shinobi masters of the Ephemeral Arts, innovators of abhorrent dark sorcery, and reality altering curses. All of which were spearheaded by the absolute strongest sorcerer among their lineage— their Xhi'on. And while the Yaarou were prone to secrecy when it concerned their leader, from what Raizen's intel could infer.. Their IV appointed Xhi'on of the Yaarou is said to be more powerful than anything seen before.

Whether such knowledge proved salvation.. Or disaster… Remained to be seen. Regardless, these thoughts ran rampant behind Raizen's sullen expression until his silver gaze drifted toward the final empty chair surrounding the council table.

"...Where is Katsuro?"

His words brought forth an unnerving silence and a procession of exchanged glances. Most of which fell upon Euriel, but all she could give was a casual shrug.

No one had answers. The message was definitely delivered to the Sovereign's heir, but it was known if nothing else that Katsuro.. Well, he possessed a more independent way of thinking.

But just as the awkward silence began to settle, the chamber doors groaned open, and a young man with an unhurried gait entered the room. He was running his hand through short blond hair still slightly disheveled, lazily adjusting the collar of his uniform as though he had all the time in the world.

"Hey yeah.. my bad," Katsuro said as he stifled a yawn. "I overslept.. Just can't manage to get a good night's sleep nowadays."

D'huro closed his eyes and released a slow, defeated sigh.

Euriel pinched the bridge of her nose, torn somewhere between secondhand embarrassment and utter disbelief. Even Sai's stoic composure seemed to crack ever so slightly, his jaw tightening as though resisting the urge to intervene on principle alone.

Only then did Katsuro seem to notice the silence that had swallowed the chamber. He looked around the table, furrowing his brow in genuine confusion.

"...What?"

Raizen regarded his son for several long moments before speaking. "..you are late, Katsuro."

"I know." He shrugged. "Like I said... I overslept. I finally managed to fall asleep and.. I was having a pretty good dream." He continued, scratching the back of his head. "Then those damn bells started ringing.. and now I'm here."

Raizen drew a slow breath through his nose. “Hmm. I assumed as much."

Katsuro smiled sheepishly. "See?" He gestured vaguely toward his father. "The big guy gets me."

"No."

Raizen's answer came without hesitation. "I have simply exhausted every other expectation."

A quiet snort escaped Euriel before she quickly covered her mouth. D'huro turned away, pretending to study one of the murals overhead as if he hadn't heard anything. And Sai stared resolutely at the opposite wall.

Katsuro, meanwhile, remained entirely unaffected.

He dropped into the empty chair, leaned back just enough to irritate every traditionalist present, and let his eyes wander across the vaulted ceiling.

"Damn, did they finally clean this place?"

No one answered.

"I know it's been a while since I've been here, but I swear it's brighter than I remember."

"They have not," Raizen replied evenly.

"Huh." Katsuro tilted his head thoughtfully, before casually shrugging it off. "Must just be the lighting I guess.”

No one knew how to respond. Aside from his father, who again drew a long exasperated sigh..

This… This man was the heir to the Inuki Legacy. The only child of perhaps the greatest demon hunter to ever live. A man whose feats and triumphs rivaled Edo's tallest legends. Who, according to every instructor who had ever trained him, possessed talent that dwarfed prior generations. He was one of only two living beings capable of wielding the Inuki Clans Divine Instrument.

And yet…

He possessed all the urgency of a man deciding whether or not to retire to his chambers.. for the third time today.

Raizen folded his hands atop the stone table. "Do you think you'll manage to stay conscious should I continue with this meeting?”

"...yea, yea please do." Katsuro responded casually.

“Good.” Raizen's expression hardened. “Because what we're discussing concerns the future of our people."

Katsuro's expression remained unchanged. “Yea I know.. It's insane what happened to them.” He said with all the humor fading from his voice. “I mean, I'm glad you insisted that I didn't help any further but.. shit.”

Raizen studied him for a moment before he spoke. "The Fable of the Nether Serpent has come to pass.. But what remains of the Yaarou is to arrive just before dusk."

For the first time since entering the chamber, Katsuro looked directly at his father. His posture never changed; He still slouched, and gave off the impression as though he'd rather be anywhere else.. But the haze behind his azure eyes vanished entirely, replaced by an eerie focus Raizen had seldom seen.

"...do we have a gauge on their casualties? Or how much was lost?”

“Only estimates.” Euriel answered softly. “..but our numbers determine that no more than half of the city survived.”

“..shit. That's worse than the reports right?” Karsuro said, shaking his head. “..but I mean. With B'halia and the Black Sun hitting them at once, I guess they're lucky to be left with that much.”

Euriel's head snapped toward him. “Hold on— so you have read the reports?”

“Uh.. I've read everything you sent to my room.” he answered as though it were obvious. "Including the files sitting open on your desk."

Several of the council members fell silent in awe. All while Euriel stared with a smoldering disbelief. "You did..what?"

Katsuro shrugged. "Yea I noticed you highlight the important parts in gold and all the boring parts stay in default text.. so naturally I just read the parts in gold.”

D'huro stared. "..so you have been breaking into the intelligence archives?"

"What? No, I had permission.."

"No..." Euriel answered flatly. "..you most certainly did not."

"Well...", Katsuro leaned back again. "..then I took initiative. I'm the heir afterall.. pretty sure that's close enough.”

Even Sai looked upward for a brief moment, as though silently appealing to the heavens for patience.

Raizen, however, simply watched his son and smiled beneath his silver beard.

There it was.

For just a heartbeat, the old man saw what so few others never bothered to.

Behind the child's perpetual indifference, unkempt appearance, languid disposition, and effortless apathy for ceremony… Katsuro missed nothing. He had read every casualty report, scouting record, and expedition log sent to his room and then some. And perhaps most importantly…

He remembered the names of the dead.

The boy just never bothered to brag or boast about it.

Raizen's weathered expression softened almost imperceptibly. A smile hid beneath his silver beard. "Very well.. If you've already familiarized yourself with the situation. Then you'll be the one greeting the Yaarou's Fourth Xhi'on."

Katsuro blinked. "...I'm sorry?”

“You will represent the Inuki." His father replied.

A long silence followed. Then—

"Yeah, absolutely not."

D'huro folded his arms with a satisfied smirk."I believe that might the quickest answer hes ever given his entire life.”

Raizen ignored the remark and pressed Katsuro further. “.. and why not?”

Katsuro stared at his father as though the answer should have been obvious. "...Because she's the Fourth Xhi'on. The strongest sorcerer alive. And I'm..." He gestured vaguely toward himself. "..just barely awake."

A ripple of restrained laughter spread through the chamber. Even Euriel smiled.

Raizen, however, did not. He merely held his son's gaze. Stern and cold. "Well then, I suggest you wake up. This is not a game, Katsuro. And reading a few files is not enough to make you a proper Sovereign.” He said, slowly lifting himself from his seat. “..you must prove that with action. By being present.. And you must do so everyday.”

—--

The meeting concluded soon thereafter.

Orders spread from the Hall of Luminaries with practiced efficiency. Messengers descended the mountain's countless stairways carrying sealed directives beneath their cloaks, while signal bells rang across New Vorelia in measured succession. One by one, the city's many districts stirred into motion.

The eastern gates were to remain open.

The physicians were to prepare every available infirmary. Storehouses and barracks emptied to make room for refugees.

Several of the Kingdom's food pantries and community centers lit their furnaces hours in preparation, erecting long tables beneath open pavilions where warm food and clean water would await those who had endured an impossible journey.

Though none spoke the words aloud, every attending clansmen knew the implications behind this day.

The Yaarou—one of the Three Great Shinobi clans of Edo—had not come to their gates as ambassadors, nor as allies. Today, they came as survivors with hands out, seeking sanctuary. Seeking help.

Nearly an hour had passed since Raizen's assembly.

The sun had begun its slow descent toward the western peaks, bathing the Strata Mountains in beams of molten gold. Their towering citadels glowed like carved ivory, while rivers cascading through the valleys reflected the light in ribbons of brilliant amber.

Even in times such as this, the city remained beautiful, yet beneath that beauty lingered an unusual quiet.

Merchants closed their stalls earlier than usual. Children who would normally fill the plazas with laughter instead watched from balconies beside their parents. Veteran hunters were gathered in units upon the walls in polished armor, their silver cloaks stirring gently in the mountain wind.

No celebration had been prepared. Only silence. One born from respect.. and empathy.

–

High above the eastern gate, upon the roof of an ancient watchtower overlooking the mountain pass, Katsuro was laid out across weathered stone with one arm folded beneath his head. To any passerby, the young man appeared every bit the irresponsible heir the council believed him to. The afternoon breeze had toyed with his unkempt hair, making him look as if he'd passed out with one leg dangling lazily over the edge of the tower. But he didn't give a shit what anyone thought about him. ESPECIALLY those old talking heads.

"...Comfortable?”

The familiar voice drifted softly from the communicator fastened around his wrist. Without opening his eyes, Katsuro answered. "Depends who's asking."

A tiny construct of light bloomed above the device before resolving into Euriel's face. "...And if I said the Sovereign?"

"...Then no." He sighed dramatically. "I'm miserable."

Euriel couldn't help but smile. "You're nervous."

"Nervous?" Katsuro scoffed. "No." He stretched lazily before folding his hands behind his head once more. "I'm just lazy.. Haven't you heard?”

“Katsuro..” She said longingly as if she were going to continue.. but in circumstances such as these, words often failed her. It truly was the only time it did. “Y-You're old enough to know that your father wouldn't treat you this way if he did not believe in your potential.”

“Tch, yeah.. enough with the whole he means well shit. I'm not a child anymore, Euri."

Silence settled between them. Only the wind answered.

Then...Katsuro's expression changed, and his eyes opened. "...They're close."

Euri said nothing for a moment. "The scouts haven't reported anything."

"They probably will in a minute or two..."

"And how do you know?"

“I can sense them.” Katsuro slowly sat upright, resting his forearms upon his knees as his gaze settled upon the winding road disappearing into the eastern valleys. Most would have seen nothing beyond cliffs and sunlight.

But Katsuro didn't have to see. He could physically sense a soul, especially a powerful one, brought on from his extensive training as a child.

Euriel chuckled as she checked her computer. “Heh, wow. Yeah.. More than a hundred miles out and you can sense them? Pretty Remarkable, kid."

Katsuro merely shrugged. "I've always been a good tracker..”

Not a moment later, a horn sounded from the eastern watchtower, followed by a procession of several more echoing throughout the Kingdom.

Crashing bells answered in measured succession until the song rolled through every district of New Vorelia. Finally, a voice echoed through hidden speaking arrays woven into the city's ancient architecture. Loud and clear;

"The eastern caravans have returned!”

The call spread from tower to tower until the entire mountain city carried the same message. Citizens emerged from their homes and assembled onto balconies and along the avenues. Far above them all, Katsuro rose at last, stretching until the joints in his shoulders cracked softly. And all at once, the perpetual lethargy that had defined him throughout the day quietly faded away..

His azure eyes sharpened, and his posture grew straight and firm. And for the first time today, the young man looked like he actually gave a damn. “Yeah, guess that's my cue.”

Without another word, he stepped from the watchtower and disappeared down its winding stairwell toward the eastern gate, where the remnants of one of the greatest clans in history had finally come seeking refuge.

By the time Katsuro descended from the watchtower, the gates of New Vorelia stood fully open. And beyond them stretched a solemn procession unlike any seen within living memory.

Hundreds of wagons crept along the mountain road, their weathered wheels groaning beneath impossible burdens as exhausted horses fought against the steep ascent. Upon which canvas coverings—hastily stitched together from torn tents, cloaks, and threadbare blankets—sheltered what little remained of an entire bloodline.

Families sat shoulder to shoulder beneath them in weary silence.

The elegant black garments that had once marked the Yaarou as one of Edo's great shinobi houses were now little more than soot-stained rags. Ash clung stubbornly to every sleeve. Dried blood darkened hems and collars. Faces that had once carried quiet confidence had been hollowed by grief, hunger, and weeks of relentless travel.

Behind the wagons trudged the surviving warriors of the famed Kurotori.

Their armor, once synonymous with fear throughout Edo, hung fractured and warped across broken bodies. Some leaned upon spears and swords simply to remain standing. Others dragged injured legs wrapped in crude splints carved from scavenged timber, while blood-soaked bandages disappeared beneath tattered robes.

Many of them used their weapons to support their crippled gait. Others bore crude splints fashioned from scavenged timber, while bandages stained crimson disappeared beneath soiled robes.

Weeks of relentless travel had carved every ounce of pride from their posture. Yet not one allowed themselves to fall.

Not now.. Not after coming this far.

A profound silence settled over the streets of New Vorelia as the refugees passed through the eastern gates. And there were no cheers, or whispered gossip sprung upon their arrival. The Inuki simply watched. Warriors recognized warriors. Loss recognized loss.

From the balcony of the Hall of Luminaries, Raizen observed the procession in silence. His silver gaze moved carefully from face to face; from the Clan elders, to the Veteran captains, to children scarcely old enough to understand what had truly been taken from them.

Every passing wagon told its own separate story of survival, and every wounded soldier a testament to the realm of people already lost.

Yet the one face he sought most of all remained absent.

Hitomi Yaarou.

The woman whose deeds had spread across Vescrutia like wildfire. His eyes found the clan elders, veteran captains, and even children too young to truly understand what they had lost. But the woman he'd been searching for was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” The question scarcely rose above a whisper.

One of the accompanying Inuki attendees immediately lowered his head. "The Lady Xhi'on remains within the final carriage, Grand Luminary."

Raizen's silver eyes lifted toward the last caravan still climbing the mountain road far behind the endless procession. And unlike the others, this one was surrounded on every side by an unusually heavy escort. Nearly a hundred Yaarou shinobi marched alongside its carriage in, and every single one of them bore their own affliction of wounds. Some of them limped gingerly while others kept blood-soaked bandages pressed against their ribs.

Yet not a single pair of crimson eyes wandered from the payload they were charged with protecting. Even the horses moved carefully, as though they were pulling something within that cabin that was far more fragile than a single rider.

Conversation within the Hall gradually faded until the only sound that remained was the creaking of old wheels and the steady rhythm of hoofbeats echoing across white stone. One by one, the eyes of the Inuki followed the final chariot as it passed the towering gates of the city and came to a halt just outside the Hall of Luminaries.

D'huro's brow slowly tightened from his position near Raizen. "..Is she wounded?”

“She is.” Euriell replied quickly. “Prior to the Nether Serpent's incursion, the Yaarou suffered several assaults from the Bhalian Empire. One of which left the Xh’ion notably incapacitated. Until recently..”

“Yeah I heard something about that when I was there.” Katsuro said as he stepped onto the balcony alongside them after arriving a second eariler. “..No one was even allowed on the same floor as her. But as far as I know, I don't think she ever left her room.”

Silence lingered.

Five seconds. Ten. Twenty.. Still, nothing emerged from the carriage.

D'huro's folded his arms. "...Is she at least able to stand?”

Katsuro simply shrugged his shoulders. “The Yaarou keep most of their information pretty close to the chest. But from the look of things, I'd say probably not without help.”

The words settled over the gathering like falling ash.

Even Raizen's expression shifted.

He, along with all of them, had expected to meet the Yaarou Clan's legendary Fourth Xhi'on. The young woman whose battles and triumphs had already become the subject of legendary stories. The sorceress powerful enough to stand against the Serpent's Heir himself. But instead… they found themselves waiting for someone perhaps too injured to leave her carriage alone.

Then…

A quiet metallic click from within the carriage broke the silence and immediately drew every focus of every present gaze. Slowly, the cabin door began to open and what stepped through was not a wounded woman, but a goddess bound in human form.

–

The first thing to emerge from within the darkened cabin was her slender hand— pale as polished ivory, grabbing hold of the wooden door frame to steady herself as she dismounted.

And the woman who stepped into the afternoon light appeared ethereal in nature.

She barely twenty years of age, if the rumors surrounding her birth were to be believed. Yet there existed nothing youthful about the manner in which she carried herself. Every thing from the way she held her head to way she moved possessed a practiced eloquence, as though the rhythm of the world had chosen to accommodate her own. And never deviated once.

Her hair, cropped short around her head, shimmered like fresh fallen snow beneath Vescrutia's twin suns. Each strand reflected the mountain light with an almost argent brilliance, framing a face so impossibly symmetrical it bordered upon something.. artificial

There were no signs of illness, no pallor born of weakness. No evidence whatsoever that this woman had spent several months confined to her bed while the fate of her clan unraveled beyond her chamber doors.

She appeared… Perfect.

Not just beautiful in the ordinary sense but.. Perfect. And to many, the sight of her was unsettling.

No human being should have looked this immaculate. Least of all one who had only recently stood upon death's threshold.

Upon her brow rested the Crown of the Xhi'on; An ancient circlet of pale gold whose delicate branches arched skyward like the roots of a celestial tree. Countless crimson gemstones were nestled within its intricate patterns, each one glowing with a subdued inner light that pulsed like distant heartbeats.

She donned a gown of pristine white silk that cascaded elegantly around her figure, embroidered with flowing patterns of crimson and molten gold that shimmered whenever it caught the sunlight. While golden ornaments bearing the crest of the Yaarou glimmered against her breast and sleeves.

This was Hitomi Yaarou, and she had not come dressed for comfort, but to make a very clear statement. That the Xhi'on of the Yaarou Clan was still very much alive.. and so long as she drew breath, all of Edo would be expected to bend at her feet.

“Mighty people of New Vorelia!” Hailed one of the more able bodies of the Kurotori, whose voice had been trained to carry. “BEAR WITNESS! For you are now in the presence of the Yaarou Clan's Fourth, and most powerful Xhi'on. She Who Sits at The Pinnacle of all Creation! The Devil of Edo! The Seratted Blade of Law and Order!”

Raizen watched her in complete silence as her royal titles echoed the streets of his city. "...Of all creation..?" He repeated quietly, mostly to himself.

This was the woman every report had described as bedridden, with a body that had supposedly failed her.. Yet she descended from her carriage with such quiet elegance that it seemed almost sacrilegious to imagine weakness touching someone like her.

“Whoa..” Katsuro muttered to himself. “..she's– she looks.. Whoa..”

Beside him, D'huro frowned. "...not so much as a limp.”

Euriel's emerald eyes never left Hitomi. "Our intelligence was accurate. I know it was.. she said soflty. ..it just doesn't make sense.”

“I disagree.” Raizen answered quietly. “This is who we've been anticipating. Someone capable of helping us do the impossible. I would expect nothing less than what I'm seeing.”

Then he turned slightly toward the nearest steward. “Prepare the Hall and A table of our finest. The Xhi’on will be received properly if we are to discuss the future of Edo. I will be there shortly.”

The great doors of the Hall of Luminaries opened without ceremony.

Warm light spilled across polished stone as Hitomi Yaarou crossed the threshold, accompanied only by Elder Sevrin and a small retinue of Inuki attendants.

The doors closed behind them with a deep, resonant boom. And immediately, the city seemed to vanish.

The hustle and bustle of its citizens, the sounds of their voices beyond its walls, even the mountain wind itself—all disappeared beneath an almost sacred stillness. Their footsteps became the only sound within the immense sanctuary, echoing softly across polished stone before dissolving somewhere among the towering rafters overhead.

For several moments, no one spoke. Yet Sevrin found himself instinctively looking upward.

He had walked through royal palaces before. The courts of feudal lords. Temples whose ceilings glittered with gold leaf. Great halls where kings had immortalized themselves in marble and precious stone.

The Hall of Luminaries possessed none of it.

There were no gilded ceilings proclaiming the greatness of kings, nor towering marble statues erected to immortalize rulers who had wished to be worshipped long after death.

Instead, legends and history lined these walls.

Towering tapestries stretched from floor to ceiling, their threads woven so masterfully they appeared almost alive beneath the morning light. Sevrin slowed before the nearest one and noticed the illustrations captured scenes spanning nearly five thousand years in the past.

He saw generation after generation of Inuki Hunters standing shoulder to shoulder beneath banners of the rising dawn, driving creatures of nightmares back toward what appeared to be fractured wounds in reality itself.

As they walked, Sevrin’s attention drifted toward the relics displayed between each tapestry. There were ancient spears with their shafts splintered by impossible force. Swords broken cleanly through the middle. Tower shields warped and scarred by claws too immense to belong to any creature born beneath mortal skies.

Instinctively, Sevrin reached toward the nearest weapon— an axe with a shaft that had been split almost from end to end.

It could have been easily repaired, yet no of them had.. Even the dried blood darkening the socket beneath its blade had been left untouched. It was then that he noticed that beneath every relic rested a single bronze plaque.

Not commemorating victory…but recording the name of the warrior who had once wielded it. As well as the date and the battlefield upon which they had made their final stand.

“...A powerful sentiment,” Sevrin murmured, almost to himself.

Hitomi’s crimson eyes passed over the displays without slowing.

“...”

One of the Inuki attendants spoke with quiet pride. “Our people preserve the arms of those who died defending Vescrutia. They remind us of the price our predecessors willingly paid.”

Hitomi’s gaze lingered for only a heartbeat longer before moving on.

“..the price of weakness.” She corrected before she continued walking as though nothing remarkable had been said.

“In Edo, that price has always been paid in blood.”

The corridor fell silent.

Several attendants visibly stiffened. Offended even by Hitomi's brazen lack of respect for the legends that surrounded her. One of the young hunters, designated to her detail, instinctively reached for the sword at his hip before Sevrin’s hand gently settled upon his shoulder.

The elder never even turned his blindfold to face him before he spoke. “..you would do well to mind yourself, child,” he said pleasantly and quietly so as to not draw any attention. “Lest your own name someday be engraved beneath one of these magnificent relics.”

The young hunter froze. But after a moment of contemplation, his hand slipped away from his weapon. Only then did Sevrin continue forward beside Hitomi, as though the interruption had never occurred.

–

As they ventured deeper into the ancient sanctuary, sunlight began filtering through towering panes of colored crystal, casting rivers of crimson, gold, and sapphire across the polished stone beneath their feet. Every step seemed to carry them farther from the city beyond the walls and deeper into five thousand years of Inuki history.

Portraits lined the corridor in solemn succession, and each one depicted one of the many serving Grand Luminaries. But unlike the Xhi'ons of the Yaarou Clan, every one of the Inuki's Clan leaders appeared almost… ordinary.

Some wore weathered traveling cloaks faded by countless campaigns. Others stood clad in battle-worn armor bearing the scars of innumerable battles. A handful were painted in little more than simple ceremonial robes, with calm expressions, and unassuming postures.

Not one of them wore a crown, or even rested upon a throne. And Sevrin found that peculiar..

“...Curious.”

The elderly Yaarou allowed his blindfolded gaze to linger upon the portraits as they continued walking. “Your Grand Luminaries.” He said toward the attendant. “They never portrayed themselves as rulers?”

The young Inuki smiled faintly. “They did not.”

“...No?”

“Our people believed there was little virtue in appearing above those one is sworn to protect.”

Sevrin stroked his beard thoughtfully. “So they chose to appear as servants.”

The attendant inclined his head. “No.” His answer carried neither offense nor pride. “They were servants.”

He looked toward the nearest portrait.

“Our Grand Luminaries have always believed that sovereignty is not a privilege bestowed upon the powerful…” His eyes drifted upward toward the painted warrior. “It is a burden entrusted to them.”

Another few steps passed before he continued. “They are our sword when darkness comes.. Our shield when hope falters. And the heart that continues beating long after the rest of us have grown weary.”

Silence settled over the corridor.

Sevrin nodded slowly. “...An admirable philosophy.”

The Inuki guide as well. “It is one that has sustained us for thousands of years.”

For the briefest of moments, Hitomi’s crimson eyes lingered upon the portrait nearest her.

There was no throne, crown, or bouquet of jewels proclaiming divine authority. Only a weary old warrior standing beside a group of ordinary hunters.

Hitomi regarded the portrait only briefly before continuing onward..

The corridor narrowed once more before opening into a chamber so vast that even Sevrin's measured stride faltered. Without question, it had been the largest room they'd traverse thus far. Its vaulted ceiling vanished nearly fifty feet overhead, upheld by immense pillars of white stone carved into the likenesses of lions keeping an eternal vigil beneath the rising dawn. Sunlight poured through towering windows high above, bathing the corridor in a pale radiance that did little to dispel the oppressive weight lingering within its walls.

Between those pillars rested an array of Inuki trophies, which were just gargantuan skeletons belonging to creatures Sevrin refused to believe had ever walked beneath Vescrutia’s skies.

His hidden eyes widened beneath his blindfold at the sight of a skull larger than the carriage that had carried Hitomi through New Vorelia’s gates. Its empty sockets yawned toward the heavens, with ribs as thick as ancient oaks and great wings that stretched nearly the entire length of the hall. Each specimen of weathered bone was suspended from intricate chains descending from the ceiling above. And there were dozens— perhaps hundreds, all of them preserved exactly as it had fallen.

Sevrin slowed without realizing it.

Though every creature had long since perished, something remained. An invisible pressure.. powerful and malevolent. It seeped quietly from their bleached remains, lingering within the air like the final echo of a nightmare that refused to die.

“...Demons?”

The question escaped him almost involuntarily.

One of the Inuki attendants inclined his head. “In our tongue,” he said quietly, “..they are called the Acheri.” His eyes drifted toward the nearest skeleton. “Most were slain within the Breach beneath these mountains.”

Another attendant continued. “Some of the oldest among them are nearly four thousand years old.”

Silence settled once more, but Hitomi never slowed.

Her crimson gaze swept across the towering remains with detached indifference, measuring them no differently than she had measured the weapons and portraits before them. Whatever questions Sevrin still possessed seemed to die within his throat as they continued in silence, for the Hall itself appeared intent on revealing its history to him one monument at a time.

Soon, another corridor unfolded before them, one filled with more lights and torches than any that had come before. The polished stone floor gradually opened into an immense rotunda where the procession slowed almost instinctively.

Only this time, Hitomi had stopped altogether.

Before her stood a pair of monumental bronze doors rising nearly four stories into the air. Their surfaces were engraved with thousands upon thousands of names. Not merely scholars, but historians, explorers, Grand Luminaries, and hunters as well.
She peeked through the partially opened entrance, where inside she saw endless rows of towering bookshelves that literally disappeared into the shadows of the room.

She stepped closer to the doors and saw spiral staircases that wound upward through impossible heights.

Suspended bridges connected entire wings overflowing with manuscripts, journals, celestial charts, preserved relics, and ancient tomes whose leather bindings had long since surrendered to age.

And far overhead, an immense dome of crystal welcomed the afternoon sun, allowing rivers of gold to cascade through the vast chamber until the entire library resembled a cathedral built in worship of knowledge itself.

For the first time since entering New Vorelia, Hitomi’s composure faltered. Only slightly.

But then, Sevrin and an attendant noticed that she had stopped. “The Athenaeum.” The Inuki guide said to her. “It houses every surviving record preserved since the Fall of Vorelia.”

Still, she did not answer. Her eyes remained fixed upon the impossible library before them.

“...Lady Xhi’on?”

Only then did she blink. “...how much farther?” Her voice was as composed as ever.

“Just beyond these doors, Lady Xhi'on.” They assured her before they continued.

Hitomi gave a single nod. Without looking back toward the library, she adjusted some flowing strands from her eyes and resumed walking.

The attendant came to a stop before a final pair of doors.

Unlike every entrance they had passed before, these bore neither intricate carvings nor gilded ornamentation. Fashioned from a single slab of polished silversteel, their surface had been worn smooth by centuries of faithful hands. And at its center rested only the crest of the Inuki.

One of the attendants stepped forward and with a gentle push, the immense doors drifted inward, allowing beams of warm afternoon to pour out into the corridor.

"The Council Chamber," he announced quietly, stepping aside.

Hitomi entered first, and Sevrin followed a pace behind.

The chamber was circular, hewn directly into the summit of the mountain itself. Towering windows admitted the fading light of day, bathing the room in soft gold that spilled across an immense oval table carved from a single piece of white stone.

It was clear to them both that this room was built for pertnient discussion rather than allure or spectacle.

Around that table sat the men and women upon whose shoulders several millenia of Inuki history now rested.

The first to command Hitomi's attention was D'huro Inuki.

Even seated, he possessed the frame of a war engine. His broad shoulders strained against the fabric of his ceremonial robes, while scarred hands rested motionless atop the table with the restrained stillness of a sheathed weapon. There was nothing welcoming in his auburn gaze. He watched her with the measured caution of a veteran who had survived by assuming every stranger possessed hidden fangs.

Beside him sat Euriel, and unlike D'huro, she carried no visible hostility. Instead, emerald eyes studied Hitomi with almost academic fascination, quietly comparing the woman before her against every report she had ever compiled. Though only a few years separated them in age, Euriel found herself unconsciously straightening her posture as the young Xhi'on entered the room.

She noticed, and quietly resented herself for it.

Standing near the head of the table was Sai, who remained silent as a shadow.

His presence was so still that he scarcely resembled a man at all. He stood like a sculpture or another pillar carved into the mountain, content with letting the others forget he existed until the moment he was required.

The remaining councilors seated at the table bore the familiar marks of long service. Weathered faces. Scarred hands. Eyes worn from decades staring into darkness so others would not have to.

And at the head of them all sat Raizen Inuki.

Time had claimed the gold from his hair, leaving it as silver as a winter frost. Deep lines crossed his face, forged from centuries of smiling through burdens few could comprehend. Even seated, he possessed an unmistakable gravity. Though, it differed from the oppressive pressure of overwhelming strength or the suffocating aura of command that lesser rulers cultivated to inspire obedience.

His presence was quieter than that— like an effortless authority reserved for the few who never asked to lead, but were chosen instead.

A single lift of his hand brought every conversation within the chamber to an immediate close the second Hitomi Yaarou entered the room. Then, almost as one, every member of the council rose from their seats and inclined their heads toward their guests.

"Lady Xhi'on..." His voice carried the gentle warmth of sunlight after a bitter winter. "...welcome to New Vorelia.”

Hitomi allowed the silence to linger before answering. Her crimson eyes wandered once more around the chamber, weighing everything she saw from expressions to posture throughout this unspoken tension before her gaze settled on Raizen. When she arrived at the gates of this city, she had expected to meet another ruler consumed by ceremony. Another monarch or king eager to display his authority before a rival. But her tour through the Hall of Luminaries tempered those thoughts.

Instead…

She found an old warrior. One whose hands still bore callouses of battle and whose chair stood no higher than anyone else's. Even now, as stood surrounded by those who answered to him, he looked less like a king than the oldest hunter in the room.

“...”

Before she realized what she was doing, Hitomi inclined her head.. Only the slightest fraction. The gesture was so small it might have gone unnoticed by anyone but Raizen.

The realization came only after she had done it.. and she immediately resented herself for it. Hitomi couldn't remember the last time she had bowed to anyone. Not to kings.. Not to nobles.. Not even to the elders of her own clan. Yet standing before this old man, the gesture had come unbidden. For reasons she could neither explain nor understand, she felt disarmed in his gaze. As if the old man reminded her of someone she knew..

"..."

It was then that one of the attendants stepped toward the table designated for exclusive guests, and gently pulled away from the table. "Lady Xhi'on."

Hitomi snapped out of whatever thoughts she'd been locked in and crossed the chamber without haste. The long white folds of her ceremonial robes whispered across polished stone as she approached the circular table and took her seat.

Only after she had done so did the rest of the council quietly reclaim their own seats.

Raizen inclined his head. "My name is Raizen Inuki, Grand Luminary of the Inuki Clan... and, for however much longer fate permits, its Sovereign." His silver eyes drifted briefly toward Sevrin, who remained standing near the door. "And you must be Elder Sevrin."

The elderly Yaarou bowed respectfully. "I am honored by your hospitality, Grand Luminary."

"The honor is ours." Raizen's smile deepened almost imperceptibly. “Come, there is a seat prepared for you as well.”

"That won't be necessary." Hitomi's voice was calm, yet cold.

The elder stopped immediately. "..Lady Xhi'on?"

"I prefer him standing." The tone wasn't cruel, simply final.

Sevrin lowered his head without protest.

An awkward silence washed over the chamber and lingered just long enough for several councilors to exchange uncertain glances before Raizen gently reclaimed the conversation.

“..I wish the circumstances surrounding this meeting were kinder.” He said quietly, sure to be careful with his words, but both clans understood what had brought them together.

The destruction of Qiyoto, The last of Edo's Great Three Shinobi families to fall.

"You and your people have endured hardships no one should be asked to bear." His gaze settled upon Hitomi. "You have already crossed half a continent carrying the weight of your nation upon your shoulders."

He folded his weathered hands upon the table.

"So before we proceed with any more talks of politics and alliances.." He nodded toward the adjoining doors. "..allow us to be your hosts. How about some food, hm?"

As if summoned by the words themselves, the chamber doors opened once more. A procession of attendants entered carrying broad lacquered trays.

The fragrance arrived before the dishes themselves. Freshly baked bread. Roasted venison glazed in fragrant herbs. Steaming vegetables gathered from the mountain terraces. Rice seasoned with saffron and citrus. Fresh fruits. Honey. Cheeses. Crystal decanters filled with spring water and deep crimson wine.

Each plate was placed carefully before every member of the council, as well as Hitomi.

Raizen gestured toward it. "You need not concern yourself with diplomacy today." His tone remained almost fatherly. "Your people will receive food, shelter, as well as medicine for their wounds. And no debt will accompany these things, of that you have my word.”

The room remained respectfully silent as Hitomi lowered her eyes toward the meal.

The food smelled immaculate, and looked as though prepared with obvious care. She regarded the plate for several moments.. Before she reached passed her meal and took the crystal goblet in her hand.

The crimson wine within caught the sunlight like liquid garnets, almost tempting her further to raise it to her lips. She took a single measured sip, then returned the glass to the table. But her food remained untouched, simmering and delicious.. but only for so much longer.

Silence lingered for only a few seconds, yet somehow…It seemed much longer.

Several councilors exchanged uncertain glances following what they had seen. Even the attendants hesitated before quietly withdrawing from the chamber.

D'huro finally spoke. "..Lady Yaarou" His voice remained respectful, though noticeably firm. "I hope you will forgive my asking, but have we somehow failed to accommodate your tastes?"

Hitomi looked at him. “Hm? Oh, no.. no. The food appears excellent."

"...Then?”

She answered as though stating an ordinary fact. "I simply do not eat prey that I did not hunt myself."

No one spoke.

D'huro blinked once..

Euriel's brow rose slightly..

Even Katsuro stopped absently turning the stem of his cup between his fingers.

Hitomi continued. "It has been my practice since childhood, I see no reason to abandon it now."

The silence returned, only time… It carried considerably more weight.

D'huro folded his hands together. "I understand. I'm afraid, however, that among our people... declining the meal of one's host carries another meaning."

Hitomi waited.

"It is generally understood, Lady Xhi'on, as a rejection of their hospitality.. A suggestion that what has been offered is beneath one's acceptance." He spoke carefully. "Today in particular, some may mistake it for disrespect."

Several heads around the table nodded almost imperceptibly. The sentiment was shared.

But Hitomi's expression did not change.

"I appreciate the hospitality." Her crimson eyes settled calmly upon Raizen."But let us not be.. dishonest." She said, narrowing her gaze into sharp scarlet slits. “You and your people did not open your gates merely because my people suffered."

She folded her hands gracefully atop her lap. "You opened them because the Inuki require something only the Yaarou possess." Her gaze drifted briefly around the chamber. "Me."

She said with a flair of conceit in her gaze, though her expression never changed. “You all intend to ask something of me; whether that something be the murder of a beast, a man, or that of an entire army.. I cannot yet say. But I know there is a request..” She looked back at Raizen. “..so let's not confuse necessity for charity.”

The chamber fell utterly still, save for the clang of cutlery shifting against the table.

The warmth that had filled the chamber only moments before seemed to vanish beneath the weight of Hitomi's words.

Only Raizen remained unchanged.

He regarded the young woman in silence until the corners of his mouth slowly lifted into the faintest smile.

"...You're right. We should be candid at this table.”

The words were so unexpected that even Sevrin lifted his head.

"No nation shelters another without reason." His weathered fingers rested loosely atop the table. “I am responsible for thousands of lives.” His gaze drifted toward the great windows overlooking New Vorelia. "Every decision I make must answer a single question." He looked back toward Hitomi. "Will my people still have a tomorrow? And If the answer is no… then the sentiment has no place in my council.”

D'huro looked toward him. "Grand Luminary—"

Raizen gently lifted one hand and the military commander immediately fell silent.

"You are correct." The old man continued. "The Inuki need your help. It would be dishonest to feign otherwise. But..” His voice never rose, or sharpened. Although, something heavier entered his expression. ".. neither would I diminish the suffering your people have endured by pretending necessity is all that brought you here.”

He gestured toward the untouched meal.

"I offer you and your people food because you have traveled far.. I have opened my gates because your clansmen need shelter.. And yes, I have welcomed you with the hopes that you might help save mine."

Another silence settled over the room.

Hitomi studied the old man just as carefully as every pair of eyes in the room studied her. She found herself assessing Raizen's character as more than anything. He was a leader of men, that much was clear, but beyond that he led with his heart of a warrior than the mind of a king.

He reminded her, in ways she found difficult to explain, of another man who had once carried the burdens of an entire clan without complaint. Her father, Hatori Yaarou, was known, if for nothing else, for his indomitable mind and unbreakable spirit among the men in his unit. She assumed it was why she felt so disarmed in his presence, and the realization irritated her.

“...”

Hitomi looked over to Sevrin who was still standing near the door, and he nodded at her as if to give affirmation toward a hidden agenda. The gesture was slight, but it was all she needed to continue.

"...Very well." Her voice broke the silence as she folded one leg neatly over the other. "If we're being candid, then I have two conditions.”

The atmosphere in the chamber shifted immediately.

D'huro's eyes narrowed. Euriel straightened almost imperceptibly.

"Meet them, and I will fulfill whatever request the Inuki wish to place before me."

Raizen held her gaze for a long moment.

Then, without the slightest trace of irritation, he inclined his head.

"I will hear them. What is that you ask of us, Lady Yaarou?”

Hitomi didn't answer immediately. Instead, she took a breath before she rose from her chair and drifted toward the towering windows overlooking New Vorelia.

Afternoon sunlight spilled across the white silk of her robes as she stood with her hands folded behind her back, gazing out across the entirety of the mountain city in silence

From this height, she could see nearly everything; The eastern gate through which her people had entered, broad plazas now crowded with refugees, the countless terraces carved into the mountainside. She could even see the stone bridges suspended above fortified walls, layered one behind another with almost mathematical precision.

Her gaze wandered over the city with unsettling patience, lingering upon roads, towers, and elevated positions. She looked less like a guest admiring unfamiliar scenery than a general quietly studying a fortress.

"...Hm." She touched a single finger thoughtfully against her lips. "When I first entered this city..." Her eyes remained upon the horizon. "...one structure distinguished itself above all the others.”

Raizen asked calmly. "..to which structure do you refer?”

Hitomi extended a single toward the great window. "..that one."

The council exchanged puzzled glances as they followed the direction of her hand.

"I would like that building."

No one spoke to answer her. The chamber was frozen solid in shock, and confusion. Mostly because no one was entirely certain they had heard correctly.

Euriel blinked once, then instinctively looked around the table, searching the faces of the others for confirmation that she had not misunderstood.

Katsuro leaned sideways in his chair, squinting through the window as though he missed what she pointed at. "...Which one?"

Hitomi looked at him with mild confusion. "The tallest one."

He followed her finger again and his expression slowly unraveled. "...Wait." His voice rose several notes. "You mean the cathedral? .. You.. want the cathedral?"

The silence that followed was almost tangible.

Even the attendants standing against the walls exchanged uneasy glances. D'huro regarded the young Xhi'on for several long seconds before finally speaking. "...Lady Xhi'on." His tone remained measured, but firm. "I do not believe you understand what you've asked for."

Hitomi tilted her head ever so slightly. "I asked for a building.”

“..it is considerably more than that." D'huro slowly rose from his chair. "The Cathedral of First Dawn is among the oldest surviving structures in New Vorelia." He looked toward the distant spires visible beyond the window. "It was raised nearly five thousand years ago to honor the Angel Moreaux, whose blessing granted our ancestors the means to stand against the Acheri."

His voice softened.

“Our children are named there, our dead are mourned there.. My Lady it is where our clansmen give worship and thanks for what we little have.” He looked back at her. "It is not merely stone.. It is our pride and people given physical form.”

Hitomi listened without interruption. And when he finished, she simply nodded. "Yes. And I still want it.”

Katsuro inhaled at precisely the wrong moment.

Hitomi's words caused him to begin coughing into his drink. Euriel sighed through her nose before leaning over and striking him sharply between the shoulders. But then, the coughing somehow became worse. Several councilors looked away, pretending to be fixated on their meals.

Only after Katsuro had finally regained the ability to breathe did Euriel gently reclaim the discussion. "Lady Yaarou…” Her voice carried considerably more patience than surprise. “The altar of the cathedral is where our Grand Luminaries swear their oaths to the clan. Surely another residence could be prepared—a residence worthy of the Fourth Xhi'on. Uhh, perhaps a palace overlooking the eastern terraces? I assure you it could be completed far sooner than you might imagine."

Hitomi regarded her for a moment.

"But I do not require another palace." She turned back toward the window. "I have already found one.”

Silence lingered.

Raizen rested one weathered hand upon the arm of his chair, his silver eyes never leaving the young woman standing before the window.

Unlike the others, he made no effort to argue or persuade. He had been a part of numerous power struggles and negotiations, and could tell Hitomi possessed an incredibly traditional outlook on politics.

It was then that a faint smile touched the corner of his mouth. "...may I ask something of you?”

Hitomi inclined her head. "You may ask. Though, I cannot promise an answer."

"No." Raizen chuckled softly. "I imagine not.” He then adjusted his posture, concealing the pain brought from his lingering ailments.

"...what the fuck do you want with that old place?"

The question caught even Sai by surprise.

It was then that D'huro turned toward his sovereign. "Grand Luminary—"

But Raizen lifted one finger, and the military commander fell silent.

"If I am to surrender something my people have cherished for five millennia," Raizen continued, "I would first like to understand what value you see in it."

Hitomi considered the question thoughtfully before she answered.

"The elevation.”

Several brows furrowed.

"It overlooks the entirety of your capital." She turned slightly, looking back through the window. "The surrounding mountains, advantageous routes of approach, the civilian districts, military quarters, the very walls themselves.” She said, allowing a small smile to cross her lips before it faded beneath her crimson lipstick. “If I am to govern my people while they reside within yours." She looked back toward Raizen. "...there is no superior location."

She spoke free of any arrogance or mockery. She was frank and stoic.

But D'huro didn't care. Everything she said and how she acted had officially rubbed him the wrong way.

"...Govern?"

"Yes. The Yaarou remain the Yaarou." Hitomi answered. “My people have lost their homeland, but they have not lost their nation. I am still their Xhi'on." Her crimson eyes swept calmly across the chamber. "They will still require a palace. They will still require a throne. They will still require somewhere to seek judgment." She looked toward the distant cathedral once more. "That building satisfies those requirements."

Understanding slowly spread across the room.

Hitomi wasn't asking for a church. She genuinely saw a fortress. A palace.

"...”

Katsuro finally broke the silence. “You really don't know what that place means to us."

Hitomi looked at him. "I know exactly what it means.. You just explained it.”

"...Then why ask for it?” He retorted sharply. “..do you just not care?”

"Because symbols are only as valuable as the people who protect them." Her words landed like stones. "My concern is the living.. Not the intrinsic value of a building."

The chamber remained still following Hitomi's words.

A few councilors began to spill over each other in hushed rebuttals to her callous words. What she was asking for was sacrilegious.. And cruel to fault. It was as if she were trying to goad a response out of them with an outlandish request. Euriel couldn't help but wonder if the Yaarou actually wanted an alliance. Dhuro had already prepared himself if this were to escalate to anything further.

Only Raizen remained thoughtful.

As they sought to chastise her, He studied Hitomi for several long moments. Not at all offended or angry, he simply wished to understand the young woman standing before him. And slowly, but surely, was realizing just how differently they viewed the world.

Then, slowly, he rose.

The movement was unhurried, but the entire chamber straightened instinctively once the Grand Luminary came to his feet. Even Katsuro's expression went taunt as his father walked to the window beside Hitomi. Together, they gazed out at all of New Vorelia. The cathedral towered proudly over its city, its crystal capped spires catching the last gold of the setting suns. Raizen took a calming breath as he briefly shut his eyes. And when he finally spoke, his voice carried nothing but weariness.

“When I was a boy, my father brought me there before my first hunt.”

The council listened in silence to what seemed like a more intimate conversation.

“Our weapons were anointed in oils, and the priests bestowed blessings on our robes before we delved through the breach. He said that was our way— that those stone walls were sacred, and our duty was to uphold them and our people.” He said before opening his eyes. “But before we left, he told me.. that despite all these rituals, this place was nothing but stone. And that stone only endures because people give it meaning. Not the other way around.”

His silver eyes drifted downward toward the streets below, where Inuki hunters escorted Yaarou refugees through the city.

“Today, those people are frightened. Mine, and yours.” He then turned back toward the table. “..and if relinquishing a building of stone helps ensure those people live long enough to see another day.. then that building has served its purpose.”

“Raizen!” D'huro exclaimed fervently, briefly forgetting that the man he shouted at was more than just an old friend. But his Sovereign. Still, Raizen could feel genuine pain behind his commander's words, and he met his gaze with gentle assurance.

“Tell me honestly Dhuro, if the breach beneath these mountains were to fracture tomorrow, will that altar stand as our defense?”

Dhuro's jaw tightened. But he said nothing in response. And with that, Raizen looked back to Hitomi.

“From this point on, The Cathedral of First Dawn will be placed under the IV Xhion for the duration of the Yaarou's residence within New Vorelia.”

The words struck the chamber harder than any shout.

Euriel exhaled softly. Several of the other councilors murmured between themselves. And Katsuro was practically raking his hair out of his head, muttering to himself. “..what the hell just happened?”

Only Sai remained perfectly still.

Hitomi studied them all, but of course, she found Raizen's reaction the most interesting. He had given away the holiest structure in his city with the same calm certainty with which he had offered bread to refugees. Without hesitation, or faintest sense of resentment. She narrowed her eyes at him, but her gaze was lighter than before. As though in that moment, she saw what the Inuki saw in their leader.

Raizen then gingerly returned to his seat before looking at Hitomi with quiet expectation.

“You said you had two conditions, Lady Yaarou. What is the second?”

Hitomi answered without hesitation.

"I require unrestricted access to your Athenaeum."

The words were spoken so matter-of-factly that, for a heartbeat, no one reacted.

Then Euriel frowned. "...The Athenaeum?" Hitomi inclined her head. "For the duration of my stay."

The Keeper of Intelligence leaned forward slightly. "May I ask... why?"

Hitomi regarded her for a moment before answering. "I expect your people intend to ask me to kill something." Several members of the council exchanged glances. She continued. "Whatever has forced the Inuki to seek aid from another Great Clan is, by definition, unlike anything I have encountered."

Her crimson eyes drifted toward the great windows overlooking the city.

"I know almost nothing of your people. Not your history, or your enemies, or your wars, or the methods by which you survived them."

She looked back toward Euriel.

"If I am expected to preserve your nation, then I will first need to understand it."

The answer was sensible. Almost disappointingly so.

Yet Euriel's instincts remained unsettled. "...surely a collection of military records would suffice."

"It would not." Hitomi answered immediately. "True hiistory rarely hides inside military reports." She said taking a seat, and comfortably folded one leg across the other. "It hides inside journals. Religious texts.. The observations of scholars who believed no one would ever read their work."

Her voice remained perfectly composed. "In my experience, I've found that the smallest details are often the difference between victory.. and extinction."

Despite her better judgement, Euriel found herself genuinely intrigued. She had expected arrogance, but instead…she felt as if she were listening to someone who approached warfare like an academic.

Katsuro, meanwhile, rested his chin against one hand, seemingly bored by the request. "You actually like reading?"

Hitomi looked at him.

"I possess doctorate degrees in eighteen different fields of academia.."

"...Huh." He nodded thoughtfully. "Didn't see that one coming."

A few quiet chuckles drifted around the table, momentarily easing the tension.

Only D'huro remained unconvinced. "The Athenaeum contains the entirety of our recorded history." His voice was calm but unmistakably firm. "It also contains military campaigns, and architectural records." He fixed his gaze upon Hitomi. "You ask for unrestricted access.. you ask us to surrender the memory of our civilization.. You ask a lot of us… Lady Xhion."

Hitomi met his stare without blinking. "..considering I'm the person you intend to entrust with your future, I would have to disagree.”

Silence.

The words landed differently than her earlier declarations. There was arrogance in them, but there was also sound logic behind it. If the Inuki truly expected her to fight for them… Could they reasonably deny her the knowledge she requested?

Raizen looked toward Euriel. "What say you?"

The Keeper of Intelligence hesitated. Long enough that everyone noticed. "If this request had come from anyone else, I would refuse."

She looked toward Hitomi. "But if Lady Yaarou is to confront whatever lies beneath these mountains.. knowledge may prove as valuable as any blade." She exhaled softly. "I cannot recommend unrestricted access but neither can I recommend denying it."

Raizen nodded thoughtfully as his attention shifted around the table.

No one appeared comfortable. No one appeared unanimous. Which meant the decision was his, and his alone.

“So..” Hitomi began. “..do we have an accord?”

Silence settled once more over the council chamber.

This time it was not born of offense, but deep contemplation.

The request lingered in the air long after Hitomi finished speaking, and D'huro was the first to break the tension.

"...No." He said firmly. "I cannot support this." He rested both scarred hands upon the table and balled them into tightened fists. "The Athenaeum is not merely a library, it is five thousand years of accumulated legacy. Our victories, our failures, the weaknesses we discovered at tremendous cost."

His amber eyes settled squarely upon Hitomi.

"You ask us to place all of that into the hands of someone we met scarcely ten minutes ago." D'huro gave a slow nod. "I'm sorry but I refuse."

The words echoed heavily through the chamber and resonated with several councilors who murmured their agreement.

One elderly woman folded her hands together. "I share Commander D'huro's concern."

Another nodded. "As do I. Our ancestors preserved those records with their lives. They were never intended for foreign rulers."

Euriel remained quiet longer than usual. And when she finally spoke, she did so carefully. "I.. understand Lady Yaarou's reasoning." She looked toward Hitomi. "And I believe her desire to study our enemy is sincere."

Then she turned toward Raizen. "But sincerity and security are different matters." She sighed before folding her arms across her chest. "The Athenaeum contains information whose military value cannot be overstated.. and if unrestricted access is granted, there is no practical way to control what leaves those shelves."

The room quieted again.

Hitomi listened without interruption or objection. She hadn't so much as made a change in her statuesque expression.

When everyone had finished, she calmly looked toward Raizen. "You have a cautious council."

"They are alive because of it." He said with a confident smirk as he interlocked his fingers. "I value their council." His eyes moved from one face to another. "Each of you.."

D'huro inclined his head.

"..but I have already made my decision." His weathered eyes drifted finally back to Hitomi. "Your confidence is impressive, Lady Xhi'on." His voice carried a slight edge now. "But confidence and certainty are not the same thing."

Hitomi met his gaze. "I am aware."

"Are you?" D'huro's gaze hardened. But Raizen silenced him with a clenched fist before he continued.

"..you must understand the magnitude of your request."
"I do." She answered plainly.

"Very well.." He said, taking a calming breath.

D'huro's head snapped toward him. "Grand Luminary—"

But Raizen continued unabated. "I was not chosen for this position to preserve books or stones, but to preserve its people. If the knowledge within those walls can help save lives, then hoarding it because we fear what she may discover would betray the very purpose for which it was created."

No one spoke against him. Not even D'huro. The commander could only lower his gaze, frustration visible but restrained.

Raizen turned back toward Hitomi. "You will be given access to the Athenaeum, but there is something I ask of you in return."

Hitomi's expression visibly shifted slightly. "What is it?"

Raizen's voice remained calm. "That when you find what you seek within those halls, you remember that the knowledge preserved there belongs to more than you. Our Athenaeum is more than just a weapon.. it is sacred, and deserves to be treated as such."

A long silence followed.

Hitomi regarded him with a puzzled expression. Not because the request was difficult, but because she did not understand why he had made it. He was not demanding obedience, or asking anything of equivalent weight. He was just asking her to be respectful of the space. It caught her off guard, but after several moments she nodded her head. "Understood."

Several councilors inhaled sharply. Euriel slowly closed her eyes. D'huro simply leaned back in his chair, saying nothing. Katsuro, however, immediately lifted out of his seat. "Dad—" the word bolted out before he could stop it, but his expression didn't waver. "Are you— are you sure?"

"I am." He said calmly before he looked at Hitomi. "Then Lady Xhi'on, I believe your conditions have been met."

"That they have." She said as she slowly rose from her seat. "Then I will begin my studies immediately."

D'huro blinked. "Wait—Immediately?"

Hitomi looked at him. "Of course; the enemy you require me to destroy is waiting." She turned toward Sevrin. "We have spent enough time with pleasantries."

And with that, the Fourth Xhi'on prepared to leave. Until—

"Lady Yaarou." Raizen's voice stopped her, and she looked back. "You still have not heard what we require of you."

Hitomi's expression remained unchanged. "If your request is simply that I kill something, then none of the details will alter the outcome."

"Oh, I fear they may alter them considerably." D'huro said, folding his arms and smirking for the first time at this table. "I still remember my first descent.. I entered battle ignoring all of my training… I believed strength would conquer every obstacle.."

"It does." Her answer came so quickly that several people instinctively looked toward her.

D'huro continued anyway.

"I buried many promising hunters who thought the same." He said, narrowing his gaze. "These are not the Mazoku.. nor are they comparable to any of the great beasts of Vescrutia." His voice lowered. "The things beneath these mountains do not tire.. they do not bleed. And they ignore things that beings from our realm simply cannot."

Hitomi regarded him without expression. "I've walked your Hall, and I've seen their bones. I remain unconcerned."

That answer drew visible frustration across D'huro's expression. "You saw corpses.. You did not see the effort required.. or the lives spent."

Hitomi slowly turned until she faced him completely. "The creatures died, did they not?"

D'huro almost refused to answer her. "..they did."

"So they can be killed." The simplicity of her reasoning bordered on infuriating.

D'huro exhaled through his nose. "...Do you honestly believe every battle is won because one warrior is stronger than another?"

"I do." She retorted casually.

"Hmph.. Then you have lived a fortunate life."

At that moment, something cold settled behind Hitomi's crimson eyes. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means..." D'huro answered quietly, slowly becoming aware of his words. "...you have not yet met an enemy that punishes such.. certainty."

The chamber grew tense, and Sevrin felt it immediately. His stomach tightened, and sweat began to fall down his neck as he glanced at Hitomi's darkening gaze. He knew that look.. Hitomi wasn't getting angry, she was getting annoyed.. Which in some instances, was infinitely worse.

He considered speaking out, insisting that she let the matter rest. But the words refused to leave his throat.. Because if Hitomi chose to remind the room exactly who she was, and just how she expected to be addressed, there wasn't a soul present who could curb her wrath. However, before another word could be exchanged—Raizen spoke out.

"Enough." The word was gentle, almost quiet. Yet both of them looked toward him immediately. "Commander D'huro."

The prestigious hunter inclined his head. "Yes, Grand Luminary?"

"You intend to prepare Lady Yaarou for her first encounter with the Acheri, yes?"

"I do"

"Then please," He said with a simple gesture. "Proceed, my good friend."

D'huro took a moment to collect himself before he rose from his seat. Hitomi simply stood and watched as the Commander pressed a button along the table, generating a vivid array of holographic images above the council table.

Pale blue light climbed from hidden projectors embedded within the white stone, weaving itself into lines, circles, and shifting geometric forms until the chamber was bathed in an ethereal glow. What had begun as scattered points of light slowly coalesced into a globe—a perfect likeness of Vescrutia suspended above the table. Mountain ranges rose from its surface. Oceans shimmered. Continents drifted slowly beneath the illusion of passing clouds.

Every eye in the chamber turned toward it.

D'huro rested both hands upon the edge of the table. "Lady Yaarou." His voice no longer carried the edge it had moments before. It had become measured. Professional. "I've read much about you, and the exploits of the Devil of Edo.. and I have no doubt in your strength."

Hitomi regarded him without expression.

"Frankly..." He shrugged one shoulder. "You may well be stronger than any hunter seated in this room."

Katsuro blinked. Several councilors exchanged surprised glances. Even Hitomi's brow lifted almost imperceptibly, but D'huro continued. "..but these beings are beyond strength."

With a wave of his hand, the image of Vescrutia rotated.

Then… Another world appeared.. parallel to the original.

The second world resembled nothing natural. Its landscape twisted upon itself like fractured glass suspended in an endless void. Mountains floated upside down. Rivers climbed toward black skies. Vast citadels clung impossibly to inverted cliffs while scarlet storms raged beneath them instead of above.

The tension in the room grew palpable simply from looking upon it. "This..." D'huro said quietly, "...is the Realm Between Realms."

The projection slowly revolved.

"It has been called many things; Tartarus, The Demon Realm, The Necropolis, The Splintered Realm.. Hell. The Inuki have taken to referring to it as Acheron."

He looked toward Hitomi.

"Our oldest records claim it existed before recorded history." Another gesture. "..that it was born from the darkness that preceded Creation itself."

He allowed that thought to linger. "We do not know.. and we do not feign certainty." His amber eyes narrowed. "..no hunter or scholar has ever returned from its depths with any truth of its origins.. The ones who did, were barely able to do so with their lives."

It was then that the projection shifted. The twisted landscape dissolved and in its place appeared a grotesque creature unlike any beast to the Vescrutian dichotomy. It possessed too many limbs.. Too many eyes, and its proportions changed subtly even as they watched it. "The creatures we call Acheri are not animals." Another gesture. "They are not spirits, they are not fae.. they are demons."

The word echoed softly.

"Extra dimensional life forms born from the accumulated misery and darkness generated from the destruction of mortal souls. They are universally malignant and immoral in their actions and dealings, feared largely due to their abominable appearances coupled with their power to possess, haunt, corrupt, or kill the living using foreign magic."

The same creature now appeared beside a translucent orb of energy.

Hitomi leaned forward almost imperceptibly. D'huro nodded and continued. "Every Acheri possesses two bodies." He pointed toward the flesh. "However, their physical forms act merely as vessels to protect and feed what lies within." Then, he gestured toward the luminous form.

"This.. is the Acheri's true form. Consider this its quintessential essence. Its core, or whatever helps you remember. Only when this is destroyed will the creature truly perish."

Euriel was watching Hitomi instead of the projection. And surprisingly, the young Xhi'on hadn't interrupted once. She stood at the door with her arms crossed and her eyes fixed upon the diagrams with a scholarly intensity. She couldn't exactly read her expression, but D'huro's presentation at least caught her attention.

The military commander noticed as well and began to delve further into his explanation.

"Within their own realm..."

The projection expanded again. And now, onyx colored currents flowed through the twisted landscape like rivers of darkness. "..they seem to possess inexhaustible reservoirs of Naten. Their hides, while also more durable than any known mortal substance, possess uncanny regenerative properties."

"Yeah, they're damn near unkillable." Katsuro casually interjected, leaning back in his chair. "..you can cut off their limbs, you can cut off their heads.. hell you can even cut some of them to pieces and they'll still try to eat you."

"Yes." D'huro continued, projecting his voice to regain control of his presentation. "Without proper knowledge and training, these creatures do appear as though they cannot die. But we have learned much in our many years and many hunts. And we've concluded that their regeneration is not limitless."

"I figured as much." Hitomi said softly, mostly to herself before she projected. "How quickly is their Naten replenished? How efficient is their recovery time?"

Every head turned to D'huro who answered without hesitation. "That would depend upon the individual."

Hitomi nodded once. "And what determines the variance?"

Now Euriel's attention sharpened. That.. was one of the many questions the Athenaeum had spent generations attempting to answer.

D'huro folded his arms. "We believe their ranks are distinguished according to several factors; most notably, the amount of souls they have devoured."

"Oh yeah.. you heard that right.." Katsuro added. "They eat souls."

"They possess varying levels of unique abilities but yes, they require mortal souls for sustenance, and to survive within the physical realm." D'huro extended a hand toward the suspended projection and the solitary demon hanging above the table began to divide.

One became two.. then two became four.

Soon dozens of malformed figures prowled across the holographic landscape, clawing over one another with mindless savagery. Some devoured carcasses. Others turned upon their own kind, tearing flesh from bone with frantic desperation..

"We have classified their evolutionary cycle into four different archetypes," He pointed now to the writhing mass. "At the base are the Infernal Acheri, and they comprise the overwhelming majority of all demons within the Demon Realm. Whether born through reproduction or coalesced from the fragmented remains of countless mortal souls, they represent the lowest stratum of Acheri existence and serve as the foundation of Acheron's brutal ecosystem."

The image rotated and shifted as he spoke. Hitomi watched the feeding frenzy. "So their realm possesses its own ecology."

"It does." D'huro continued without looking away from the projection. "..and though often dismissed by veteran hunters as little more than beasts, an Infernal Acheri is still vastly more dangerous than nearly any natural predator found upon Vescrutia."

She folded one arm beneath the other. "And cannibalism accelerates their growth."

Again… D'huro nodded. "Our scholars reached the same conclusion."

"I imagine they had little difficulty." Her answer earned a puzzled look from Euriel as she continued. "If strength determines survival, then the weakest become food." She watched another Infernal disappear beneath a tide of its own kin. "..Not even they are exempt from the natural order."

With another motion of his hand, the projection shifted and one of the Infernal separated itself from the swarm. Its body convulsed violently before additional eyes opened across its skull and its forelimbs thickened into powerful appendages, better suited for killing than feeding.

"..upon devouring enough souls, Infernals can evolve into Lesser Acheri, marking the first significant evolutionary leap among species. They demonstrate genuine intelligence; they recognize patterns, establish territories, and exploit weaknesses in prey. Many are capable of using or manipulating their environment to devastating effects. As you can see, their bodies grow larger and more resilient as well, and are known to command packs of infernals when they prowl."

His voice grew quieter. "But they alone are not what threatens our civilization."

His hand rose once more and the visual of the Lesser Acheri dissolved into darkness, and what emerged was a silhouette that appeared.. almost human. Its grotesque proportions had been packed into a tight upright body with pale flesh, two arms, two legs, and a face.

But every feature upon that face seemed assembled by someone who had only heard mankind described, never witnessed it firsthand. Its eyes sat slightly too far apart.. Its smile stretched a little too wide.. and limbs ended in long black talons instead of nails. Even standing motionless, something about it inspired an instinctive revulsion..

"Beyond them are the High Acheri, who we believe represent one of the greatest existential threats to mortal existence." He exclaimed, drawing muffled confirmation from his peers surrounding the table. Unlike the previous projections, no one looked at this one comfortably.

"They are rare.. fortunately." He circled the projection slowly. "But by the time an Acheri reaches this stage of development, it has already consumed tens of thousands of souls."

The projection shifted, showing the creature's ability to shapeshift and mutate its body.. Even going so far as mimicking a slain hunter. "Our earliest expeditions believed the demons incapable of strategy." He shook his head. "That misconception cost the lives of nearly four thousand hunters."

The projection followed that shapeshifter to an Inuki Camp, filled with sleeping hunters.. What proceeded next was nothing less than a bloodbath.

"Unlike their lesser kin, High Acheri possesses fully developed intellects rivaling—or often exceeding—that of humanity. They plan, they bait, they deceive, they even sacrifice their own should ensure it secure what it perceives as victory." Dhuro's voice remained even. "..And perhaps the most terrifying development, is that High Acheri are capable of communicating via telepathic projection, allowing their thoughts to invade mortal minds with terrifying ease."

Katsuro grimaced.

"...Sometimes they don't even attack." Everyone looked toward him as he stared quietly at the projection. "..you won't even see them. You'll just hear voices before your unit just starts fucking killing each other."

No one interrupted him.

Even D'huro allowed the silence to linger before speaking again.

"We have lost entire patrols without a single weapon ever being drawn." He turned away from the projection and fixed his gaze back on Hitomi. "Our priests spend years conditioning hunters to recognize psychic intrusion, but even then it is not always enough." His expression darkened. "As an Acheri evolves, the amount of Naten it can command increases dramatically."

Hitomi remained motionless as she looked between each projection. "So.. the more souls they consume, the more powerful they become.."

D'huro nodded. "Our Anthem enables us to inflict damage directly upon their core, and our weapons are inscribed with runes that allow us to channel that power directly. But High Acheri possess almost impenetrable layers of flesh.. even our most talented Hunters cannot slay one alone."

"..and what of the final iteration?" She asked plainly, pointing to the last remaining figure listed. And unlike the other three, this one lacked any visual data or comprehensive analysis.

Dhuro's eyes went sharp and intense. "The Prime Acheri." He said with a sudden frigid gravitas. "Cannot be demonstrated." Raizen said, the warmth in his voice replaced by something far more militant. "As no hunter has ever seen one and lived to tell the tale."

No one spoke.

The empty silhouette hovered above the council table.. Unlike every projection before it, it refused to resolve into a recognizable form. The hologram shimmered as though the projector itself struggled to render whatever had once been recorded.

D'huro watched it for several moments before speaking. "..from what our research suggests, each Prime is entirely unique. No two possess identical abilities, let alone behaviors. No universal anatomy exists among them. What can be said with certainty is that this pedigree of evolution transforms them into something singular."

Dhuro's shift in disposition was felt among the chamber, and shared by all who recognized the catastrophic threat.

"Even compared to the High Acheri, Primes are grotesque mockeries of reality whose disturbing otherness is said to be.. incomprehensible by mortals. They are defined by their gross disregard for the natural laws of the universe as they are understood."

As he spoke, his words were illustrated by vivid illustrations of recorded devastation generated by Prime Acheri's, however no visual of the creatures ever appeared themselves.

"Several are worshipped by lesser demons as living gods, allowing them to command hordes and territories that span thousands of miles throughout Acheron. However, there are others that are far more solitary.. and raptorial in nature."

Dhuro then tapped the projection, causing the lights to fade back into the surface of the table. "The Inuki have never seen or faced any Prime Acheri.. until recently. There remains a territory within Acheron that has wiped out every single garrison we have deployed to its perimeter.. Not a single survivor out of tens of thousands of seasoned swords." He said, frustration tightening his expression. "..almost an entire battalion now fattens the belly of this creature, and it draws closer to the breach with every passing moment."

"And thus, the crux of our new relationship." Raizen said, shifting control of the conversation back to himself following Dhuro's presentation. "When Commander D'huro speaks of a breach, this is what he means.." His voice was calm as he pressed a button along the table, generating an image of an enormous violet colored portal. "There is a wound between our world and Acheron. We believe a Prime Acheri has claimed the other side, and every attempt to prevent its advance..." His silver eyes lowered. "...has ended with the disappearance of thousands of our people."

Another silence settled over the chamber.

Raizen met Hitomi's crimson gaze without flinching. "So, Lady Yaarou. We are not simply asking you to slay a beast. We are asking you to descend into Hell and slay perhaps the most powerful demon we have ever known."

The chamber remained silent long after Raizen's final words had faded into the mountain stone.

No one seemed eager to disturb what had settled over the council.

The image of the Prime Acheri no longer hovered above the white table, yet somehow it lingered still. It remained behind their eyes, woven into every thoughtful expression that surrounded the chamber.

Dhuro had yet to sit.

His scarred hands rested against the polished stone table as he studied the place where the hologram had disappeared. For years he had delivered this same explanation to recruits, commanders, priests, visiting dignitaries, and hundreds of other ambassadors who stood where Hitomi was standing.

Some had laughed in his face on account of the ridiculousness of demons, while others paled from the demonstration and silently withdrew their names from the hunting orders before sunset.

The Fourth Xhi'on had done none of those things..

She simply stood there. Her crimson eyes remained fixed upon the empty space where the projection had hovered moments before. Gradually, almost unconsciously, her gaze drifted beyond it and through the towering windows overlooking New Vorelia, where the Cathedral of First Dawn caught the fading suns.

…

Then, almost absentmindedly—

"I see." She said plainly. "..you've given me much to consider."

Was all she gave in response. No admiration for the five thousand years of sacrifice she had just witnessed distilled into a single lecture.

Hardly any acknowledgement toward the impossibility of their cosmic burden..

D'huro searched her face for some indication that his words had struck deeper than she allowed herself to show, but he was left wanting..

Hitomi instead looked toward Raizen.

"..Grand Luminary."

The old sovereign lifted his eyes.

"If our discussion has concluded," She raised one slender finger toward the cathedral beyond the glass. "...how long before the Cathedral is mine?"

Her tone remained as level as cold, still water. Several of the Inuki councilmen found themselves glaring openly at Hitomi before glancing toward Raizen, as though expecting him to reconsider.

But Raizen's expression remained thoughtful. He looked toward the Cathedral himself, and for a moment his smile became strangely warm.

"When I was six years old, my mother carried me through those doors after one of my father's hunts." His eyes never left the distant structure, but a faint chuckle escaped him. "I was a child.. but I remember believing the ceiling reached Heaven itself before she corrected me.. but I didn't believe her."

He paused.

"The Cathedral of First Dawn has belonged to the Inuki for nearly five thousand years. I would like my people to remember what may be its final days with that same reverence."

Only then did he look back to Hitomi. "The relocation will require care."

Hitomi's eyes offered neither agreement nor objection. "...How long?"

Raizen closed his eyes and took the time to consider. Long enough that Katsuro, for a moment, believed his father had come to his senses and was going to rescind his outrageous promises. But then—

"...Three days." His eyes drifted briefly toward Euriel. "Perhaps four."

"The archivists will insist upon documenting every relic before anything is moved," Euriel added gently as she looked toward Hitomi. "The sanctuary houses more than scripture. There are memorials, including the mural possessing the names of every Luminary since our founding." Her expression softened. "They deserve to be preserved."

Hitomi gave a single nod.

"..and the Prime Acheri?" She said seconds after, causing the atmosphere to immediately tighten in response.

This time, D'huro answered her.

"Three weeks." He said, folding his arms across his chest. "Should its advance continue at its current rate, we have three weeks before it reaches the breach."

Hitomi slightly inclined her head to the side and exhaled a short breath through her nose."Very well.. I should have enough time."

She said to herself before walking toward the doors.

The discussion, in her mind… was over.

But then Raizen spoke again. "Until the Cathedral has been prepared, a residence has already been arranged." She stopped as he continued. "It overlooks the eastern terraces, and our attendants have been informed to provide you with every comfort our city—"

"That won't be necessary, Grand Luminary." Hitomi gently interrupted. "I won't be here."

Several councilors exchanged glances.

Raizen's brows rose. "You intend to leave New Vorelia?"

"For several days." She said plainly.

Several heads lifted. Including Sevrin's, who otherwise seemed incredibly level throughout the meeting.

"Now?!" D'huro asked brazenly, stricken by the Xhi'on's sense of priorities.
Raizen gave him a telling look before he returned his gaze to Hitomi. "..may we ask why, or what could demand your attention during this time?"

"Business."

Was all she said. But the cold crimson gleam behind her eyes conveyed that was the extent of her explanation.

The room fell silent within her gaze until Raizen laughed. Not loudly. But just enough to surprise everyone around the table. "...Very well. If that is your wish, I only ask that you return."

Hitomi met his eyes. "..of course." And was the closest thing to true assurance that anyone in the room had received all afternoon.

Then, without another word, she turned, sweeping the long white train of her robes across the stone floor and departed.

Sevrin gave a customary bow and followed immediately behind her.

The guards standing duty nearby parted the great silversteel door, and allowed the Xhi'on to exit. The doors closed behind them with a deep, resonant boom. And for several moments, silence reclaimed the room.

The chamber remained exactly as she had left it: plates of untouched food cooling upon the table, goblets catching the fading light, and the lingering weight of her presence pressed into every corner of the room.

Then Katsuro exhaled sharply. "Well.." He looked around the council table, searching their faces as though hoping someone else would say it first. "..she's insane."

A few councilors exchanged weary glances, and untightened their jaws.

One elderly councilman rubbed his temple. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I would have preferred less honesty from her."

D'huro unfolded his arms and returned to his seat. "Honesty was the least concerning thing about that meeting. Her arrogance is.. unbecoming.. and indicative of her inexperience."

Euriel remained seated, her emerald eyes fixed upon the closed doors. "..honestly." The room turned toward her. "I don't think she's insane.. or inexperienced." She paused for a moment before she looked away from the door. "I think.. she's kinda terrifying."

Katsuro blinked. "..yeah, that's not better."

"No," Euriel admitted quietly. "It isn't." Raizen alone seemed calm. The old man leaned back slightly, his weathered hands resting loosely upon the table as his silver eyes lingered on the doors through which Hitomi had departed. He looked more thoughtful than troubled.

D'huro noticed this and spoke. "Grand Luminary..." His voice carried none of the earlier confrontation, only the blunt concern of a commander who had buried too many hunters to mistake danger for opportunity. "..do you trust her?"

Silence settled again.

Raizen considered the question carefully. "No."

Several councilors, including Katsuro, looked openly relieved.

But D'huro's brow furrowed. "I don't understand. Then why grant her access to the Athenaeum? To the Cathedral?"

Raizen's gaze drifted toward the distant silhouette of the Athenaeum visible through the chamber windows. "Because trust is a luxury we no longer possess." His words settled heavily over the room. "The Prime Acheri approaches our world and our hunters are disappearing.." He looked back toward his council. "I've brought to our aid the most powerful sorcerer alive.. and you would have me turn her away on account of what?"

D'huro's gaze sharpened. "And what if she turns our knowledge against us?"

Raizen did not answer immediately. Instead, he rose slowly from his chair and walked toward the great windows overlooking New Vorelia. "Our history, our relics, our cathedral..." He spoke quietly. "..all of it means nothing if the Breach falls."

The council fell silent into a contemplative quiet.

Raizen rested one hand against the window frame. "I do not trust Hitomi Yaarou." He looked back over his shoulder. "But my city requires her strength."

A long pause followed.

"And for the first time in many years," His silver eyes drifted toward the Athenaeum once more. "..I believe the Acheri may have something to fear."


—

The council chamber doors groaned shut behind them and their weight reverberated through the mountain corridor before the sound dissolved into the immense stillness that blanketed New Vorelia's upper halls.

The attendant waiting beyond the doors immediately lowered himself into a respectful bow. "My Lady. I have been instructed to escort—"

"That won't be necessary." Hitomi did not slow her gait. The young attendant hesitated only briefly before lowering into another respectful bow.

"As you wish."

Within moments the two Yaarou had disappeared around the sweeping bend of the hall, leaving only Sevrin and Hitomi beneath the vaulted corridor overlooking New Vorelia.

And for a time, they traveled without speaking.

Only the measured rhythm of footsteps accompanied them as they descended the marble hallways of New Vorelia. Warm afternoon light spilled through towering windows, painting long bands of gold across polished stone. Outside, Sevrin could hear the sounds of the mountain city churning with energy. Bells ringing somewhere in the distance, children laughing upon the terraces below, Hunters crossing suspension bridges carrying equipment nearly as tall as themselves.

Life continued as though the fate of the world had not just been discussed just a few walls away.

Sevrin exhaled slowly.. but eventually, he smiled. "I must admit..." His voice carried genuine relief. "The meeting went considerably better than I expected."
Hitomi gave no answer, but Sevrin continued.

"I expected threats, demands, conditions impossible to satisfy.. but no. And they gave you everything you asked for."

Still, she said nothing.

"Also, I think you displayed remarkable restraint.." He chuckled quietly. "I can confess there were several moments I feared Commander D'huro might provoke your hand. But tried as he might, you remained stalwart and immovable."

Sevrin said as he studied her profile. Still, she gave him no response.. and despite the pliancy of the Inuki Council, the expression she wore was not one of relief or satisfaction.

But deep thought. Constant, relentless thought. As though her mind had never truly been inside that council chamber at all. Sevrin wondered if she even recognized he was still by her side until she finally spoke.

"Do you have anything to report for me?"

Sevrin's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. He understood immediately what she'd been referring to. "Yes, Lady Xhi'on." The smile vanished from his face. "I found no deception among them. I listened carefully to their thoughts, and I'm certain of it. They believe every word that they said." He said, lowering his voice to a clandestine murmur. "Their caution is genuine.. as is their desperation."

He looked toward Hitomi.

"They trust you are strong. Capable." A pause. "...but more, they are afraid of you."

Hitomi walked several more paces. "...Good."

That single word released a tension Sevrin hadn't realized he was carrying. She believed him. Which meant, for another day at least—he remained useful. A small token of assurance, but one he treasured dearly at the moment.

After another silence, Hitomi spoke again.

"..do not worry. I can tell, being my little mind reading spy makes you uncomfortable, so you won't be required to do so ever again."

He frowned. "My Lady?"

"I plan on mastering the discipline myself. So you won't be needed anymore."

Understanding dawned slowly on him. "..do you mean to take on the Rite?" His eyebrows rose. "The Trial of Pale Shadows is not something to be trifled with."

"Oh?"

"My Xhi'on, the ritual requires decades of preparation." His voice now strained, trying to convey urgency while minding his volume. "It is not merely a technique to be learned, the mind must be reshaped entirely. While the soul is tempered—"

"You can save your breath." She said without slowing the pace of her stride. "I'm fully aware of the prerequisites for the ritual, so do yourself a favor and do not condescend me further."

"...and what of the tribute?" His hushed tone faded.

Hitomi finally stopped and looked at him.

"The practitioner's eyes." Silence. "The rite demands sacrifice, My Lady. It always has."

Hitomi regarded him for another heartbeat before she answered. "No."

Sevrin blinked. "...No?"

She resumed walking. "I have no intention of blinding myself, Sevrin."

Sevrin frowned before he caught up with her.

"Then you plan to forgo the ritual entirely. There has never been another method. Even Lady Kaedae surrendered her sight!"

"Then the ritual is flawed." She said calmly. "I will find another way."

The certainty in her voice chilled him. And such arrogance.. if he hadn't taken the Rite himself, Sevrin would have believed her strictly from her conviction. But he would be remiss if he were to believe it wasn't possible. At least for her.. he had been among the few to doubt her ability in the face of certain doom, and she prevailed almost in spite of it.

He regarded her in silence for several beats, but before long he built up the courage to ask.

"..is that where you plan to go, my Xhi'on?"

"Hm?"

"You plan to prepare for the ritual?" He asked, adjusting his blindfold. "Those who took the Rite before me often took a pilgrimage to center themselves and their souls. Will you seek out the enchanted waters of Lake Aanora? Or perhaps the spiritually sensitive forest in Muu?"

"Neither." She answered quickly. "I'm going to the Western Compounds." His confusion deepened.

"..wait.. The Shi Encampment Sites?"

"Yes."

He searched her face. "..at this time? May I ask why?"

She smiled. "I'd like to inspect our inventory." She said very matter-of-factly. "..we are anticipating a very large scale purchase."

"My Lady... forgive me.. but your people need you." She looked at him but gave no answer.

Sevrin continued.

"They have lost everything. Their homeland, their families, and now they've crossed half a continent on nothing to hinge to but your word. A word that they believe to be sacrament." His voice softened. "They need to see their Xhi'on. Especially in such times as these.."

Hitomi stopped walking. "Always so concerned." Her voice remained almost amused.

Sevrin blinked. "...My Lady?"

"They will be fine. You worry too much, Elder."

"Well… It is my duty." Sevrin said, smiling awkwardly and adjusting his beard. "I am one of your elders, and it is my responsibility to concern myself with your well-being and the prosperity of the Clan.."

"Is it?" She responded with a smile. It was faint and warm, which somehow unsettled Sevrin more than her frigid indifference ever had. "..fine. If you're so insistent, then you can accompany me."

Relief washed through him and his shoulders relaxed.

"Of course, My Xhi'on." Sevrin nodded. "I'll arrange transportation."
They rounded another corner.

Ahead, the immense bronze doors of the Athenaeum rose into view.
Scholars moved quietly up and down its marble steps and bowed as Hitomi passed them by, even though she hardly acknowledged them.

"We will leave at dawn." She said as she started toward the massive steps of the extensive library. "Get some rest, Elder. I expect you to be alert and vigilant."

Sevrin nodded and bowed "And you, my Paragon?"

Hitomi didn't stop. "I'll be here."

"..but it's nearly dusk. You intend to study all night?" He asked instinctively. "I'm not certain if the Athenaeum possesses a curfew."

"I'm sure they do.." She said as she reached the doors. "But they'll have to make an exception."

[End]



[Next Chapter]