Chapter 11:

  The young man cut through the wooden corridor with swift strides, as though the floor itself recognized him and stepped aside. The black kimono wrapped around his body with austere precision—no ornament, no crest. His broad face was set and unmoving, while his eyes remained closed as always, as if sight itself were a burden he had no need to bear.

  He passed by a teenager carrying a bow slightly taller than himself. The boy jolted when he realized who was approaching and bowed in visible panic.

  “G-Greetings, Makoto-sama!”

  The young man stopped abruptly, and the air seemed to freeze for a moment. He tilted his head slightly toward the boy and spoke in a calm voice, neither warm nor harsh.

  “Greetings, Tatsuya. What troubles you?”

  Tatsuya swallowed hard, hesitating before the words slipped from his mouth.

  “I’m sorry… for failing the mission…”

  Makoto cut him off with cold indifference.

  “Think nothing of it. Now, what is it you wish to say?”

  The boy stammered, then spoke as though afraid of the sentence itself.

  “Before the enemy escaped… he said this to me… ‘Tell your leaders that the Court Heralds have arrived.’”

  A brief, heavy silence followed. Then Makoto turned away without opening his eyes.

  “Thank you. Leave the rest to me.”

  Makoto entered the adjoining room. It was a spacious square chamber, its wooden floor carefully polished, its dark wooden walls having witnessed generations of weighty decisions. At its center sat a circle of men, most of them past sixty, arranged with rigid discipline, as if participating in an ancient ritual that never changed.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Makoto advanced with measured steps and took his designated seat, then placed his gray katana before him with solemn composure.

  “Why does the Council of Elders summon me?”

  One of them spoke—a man in his fifties, his beard as sharp as his voice, his lean body radiating authority that required no muscle.

  “One of the clan’s treasures… Rin Katakai. Our men failed to retrieve her after eliminating the rest of her family.”

  He paused, then added in a lower tone,

  “We have also heard rumors leaking from the Masonic order… of a new threat to the system.”

  Makoto asked calmly,

  “Do you have an assessment of its danger level?”

  The man replied firmly,

  “We recorded it in the Black note as a precaution against any surprise. What do you say, Anchor? Which takes priority?”

  Makoto answered without hesitation,

  “Our good fortune is that they are one and the same.”

  A faint murmur rose among the men, and Makoto continued,

  “Those who prevented us from reclaiming Rin… are the very threat rumored to have emerged from the halls of the Masonic order.”

  The man asked him directly,

  “And why are you so certain?”

  Makoto replied,

  “Because they make no effort to hide it. They said it plainly to Tatsuya when they defeated him… ‘Tell your leaders that the Court Heralds have arrived.’”

  A heavy silence descended. The man slowly raised his hand. Everyone bowed and left without a word. He alone remained, then stepped forward and nodded to Makoto.

  “Come. Follow me.”

  “To where, Hiroshi-sama?”

  He did not answer. Hiroshi left the room and moved through a maze of intersecting wooden corridors until he stopped before a solid wall. He clenched his fist and said in a strange tone,

  “Open, Sesame.”

  The wall rose like a massive door. Hiroshi descended the wide staircase, Makoto following, until they entered a colossal stone hall. At its center stood an enormous candle, its lone flame pushing back the darkness and illuminating the opposite wall, where a majestic mural was etched.

  A gigantic Yin–Yang circle, and beneath it, bold writing. Makoto read it despite his closed eyes:

  “If the Court Heralds appear, the apocalypse draws near.”

  Hiroshi spoke in a distant voice,

  “Believe it or not… although this mural lies outside the clan’s vault, it is the most precious treasure my father left me—and his father left him before that, and his father before us… and no one knows why.”

  Makoto replied simply,

  “Good. Then we will know now… when we speak to them.”

  Hiroshi stared at him in surprise, and Makoto added,

  “The demonic magical energy changed yesterday.”

  Hiroshi’s eyes widened, and Makoto continued,

  “It weakened slightly. One of the powerful has died—or fled. This is our chance to turn the balance in our favor, or at least restore equilibrium among the three powers, after decades of Masonic dominance.”

  Hiroshi asked,

  “What are you thinking?”

  Makoto answered with calm resolve,

  “If the Court Heralds are stronger than me, I will attempt to win them over as allies, at the very least. And if they are weaker… then I will see whether they can still be of use to us.”

  Makoto turned away. Hiroshi raised his voice after him,

  “Do not kill them. I want to know their secret.”