The Red Takuma returned to his palace and sat upon his high seat. When he sent word for the lords of Majokawa and Onikawa to attend him, they came without delay. The Oni of Onikawa took their seats along the western benches, while the Majokawa nobles claimed the east. Their armed retainers lined up behind them, poised for trouble despite the outward silence. Pale light from Suisei’s descending sun gleamed on the polished bronze and steel of Majokawa’s armor. The Oni wore more colors, but the mood in that hall was as tense as a stretched bowstring.
The Red Takuma—his slim figure dressed in robes of deep carmine—spoke in a measured tone, as though coaxing children back from a fight. “It’s done, my lords. A mighty warrior has fallen in fair combat. By the sacred oaths you swore—and which I keep in trust—enmity between Majokawa and Onikawa must end here. You of Majokawa are bound to abandon forever your claims of sovereignty over the Oni. Now, to seal this covenant, we would do best to share in the arvale of King Goritsu XI, most fearsome in all these lands, who perished this very day. Let us set aside our disputes in a communal feast, then depart home in peace come morning.”
The Majokawa lords gave a solemn nod of assent, but Lord Jūsō rose from the Onikawa benches. Tall, regal, and burdened by heartbreak behind eyes that still burned with resolve, he wore the aura of a champion. The [System] prompt flickered over his head:
[Name: Lord Jūsō (Lv 55 Oni Warlord), Class: Master of Onikawa, Special Abilities: Warcry of the Storm (Rank A), Iron Resolve (Rank A), Current XP: 48,300 / 60,000]
He let his gaze sweep the Majokawa side before addressing the Red Takuma. “You speak of sworn oaths. The Oni keep their word. Peace is ours, provided Majokawa commits no new treachery. But I won’t break bread with these men who betrayed us in the war against the Yurei, nor will I drink to King Goritsu XI, who resorted to a dishonorable trick in his wrestling with Lord Kinryu.”
Lord Jūsō’s voice, calm yet edged with iron, made it clear there was no room for negotiation. Korudo, the veteran War Master of Majokawa, leaned in to whisper something to Gurou, who stood beside him. The Red Takuma tried to dissuade Jūsō from this refusal, but found the Oni unshakable.
“We’ll remain in our own tents,” Lord Jūsō said, “and depart at first light for Onikawa.”
Beside him stood Lord Kinryu, clad in full war gear—golden helm with horns, mail set with ruby hearts, and the famed two-handed sword said to be elf-forged, the weapon that slew the dreaded sea beast in ages past. The [System] flared again:
[Name: Lord Kinryu (Lv 58 Heartseeker), Class: Oni Champion, Special Abilities: Dragon’s Grip (Rank S), Earthshatter Throw (Rank A), Recent Achievement: Kingslayer - Defeated King Goritsu XI (+20,000 XP), Additional Effect: Bonus XP till Next Level Threshold, Current XP: 10,400 / 80,000]
Lord Homura, eyes burning like coals, lurked nearby. His presence flashed:
[Name: Lord Homura (Lv 52 Flame Champion), Class: Oni Lord of the Ember, Special Abilities: Embersoul Fury (Rank B), Phoenix Rebirth (Rank A), Current XP: 37,900 / 50,000]
Lord Daigo hovered at the fringes, a lazy half-smile on his lips and a hand idly resting on the bejeweled hilt of his sword:
[Name: Lord Daigo (Lv 53 Sword Dancer), Class: Oni Master Duelist, Special Abilities: Storm Waltz (Rank A) (Epic Item Granted), Mirage Step (Rank A), Current XP: 41,100 / 55,000]
He pointedly returned the glares of the Majokawa lords, none more fierce than Koren, a tall, swaggering youth who glowered back. Koren’s details danced across Haruto Watanabe’s vision:
[Name: Koren (Lv 43 Royal Blade of Majokawa), Class: Valiant Spear, Special Abilities: Flash Strike (Rank B), Thrill of Battle (Rank B), Current XP: 29,500 / 40,000]
At last, Jūsō inclined his head to the Red Takuma, then turned and swept from the hall. Kinryu followed, still arrayed in glittering gold, as did Homura and Daigo, all with their squads of Oni warriors at their backs.
The Red Takuma heaved a small sigh. He ordered servants to bring wine and food to the Oni in their pavilions, to lighten the atmosphere for all. He also sent them a minstrel and musicians to grace the evening with tales of ages past, hoping to avert new conflict. Then he commanded his own staff to set out the silver cups and wine jars for the Majokawa lords, that they might honor King Goritsu XI—slain earlier by Kinryu’s unstoppable throw.
The great table was soon crowded by Majokawa captains and the Red Takuma’s men. Korudo lifted a brimming cup as the Red Takuma said in a formal tone, “Shall we offer a dirge for the King? Let us not forget his power or the cunning that has shaped many a story in these lands.”
They murmured assent. The Red Takuma requested a solemn piece from his musicians. A Theorbo plucked out a soft lament, joined by a wailing Hautboy. Beneath those sorrowful notes, the Red Takuma leaned forward in his high seat and chanted a mournful eulogy for King Goritsu XI. His voice echoed against the rafters of that grand hall, speaking of how even the mightiest must one day taste death. Torches flickered, and shadows danced as though the gloom itself were paying respects.
But while this dirge filled the air, a side table erupted in sudden conflict between Koren and one of Korudo’s sons over a dice game gone wrong. Koren, losing coin by the fistful, accused the lad of foul play. Insults flew, dice boxes were hurled, weapons half-drawn. The hall rang with cursing until the Red Takuma’s guards stepped in. Explanations were demanded, the dice proved fair, and the boy grudgingly offered an apology. Tension simmered, but the fight ended short of blades crossing.
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Hastily the Red Takuma called for fresh wine and more entertainment. He raised his goblet, forcing cheer into his tone. “To Majokawa and the memory of King Goritsu XI. And to a future, I hope, that finds us at peace.”
At his command, dancers paraded into the hall: a regal Kagu bird with soft gray plumage and a delicate crest like a fan, stepping daintily to a Coranto played by flutes, lutes, and dulcimers. The bird glided between the tables, bowing to the Red Takuma and flouncing her feathers in precise timing with the music. Her large golden eyes seemed both wary and childlike, winning laughter and applause from the onlookers.
Then came the Cat-bears, with russet fur above and black bellies, bright amber eyes, and tails ringed with stripes of cream and red. “We’d love to see the Gigue,” the Red Takuma told them. And the instruments changed tempo, building into a lively beat. The Cat-bears whirled, their padded feet drumming out the Gigue in perfect unison. Majokawa’s soldiers roared approval, enthralled by the flurry of motion. Next, white Peacocks, Golden Pheasants, and other glorious birds performed the Pavane, moving in stately arcs as the music soared to a solemn grandeur. Ribbons of flute melody wove around a steady pulse of drums, capturing the watchers in an almost enchanted hush.
Yet not all were enchanted. Lord Gurou of Majokawa slipped from the throng, that same shadow of worry clouding his face:
[Name: Gurou (Lv 42 Arcane Tactician), Class: Exiled Strategist, Special Abilities: Mind’s Eye (Rank A), Calculated Deceit (Rank B), Current XP: 26,100 / 35,000]
He sought open air. The swirl of dancers and chatter felt stifling. Outside, the evening sky draped the Takuma Isles in a gentle hush. Far to the west, the sea caught the last red glimmer of sunset. Gurou turned, saw the Red Takuma himself had slipped away from the hall, apparently lost in his own brooding. Neither man spoke at first as they gazed into the gathering night.
Eventually, Gurou spoke. “You’re thinking of what happens next, aren’t you? Majokawa’s power is reeling—our King is gone. The Oni suspect all manner of betrayal. Tell me, have you considered the consequences for your islands if Onikawa decides revenge is simpler than conversation?”
The Red Takuma’s face was thoughtful as he looked out over the silent water. “I dread war. I see no good coming from more bloodshed.”
Gurou’s voice dropped low, as though confiding a secret. “They have no interest in peace. Lord Jūsō’s own words made it plain he distrusts Majokawa—and, I might add, your rulings. You gave victory in that second wrestling bout to the King despite clear evidence of foul play. Lord Jūsō’s not going to forget it, or your closeness to us. If he wouldn’t so much as drink with us, why would he spare you if the mood strikes him?”
The Red Takuma drew in a measured breath, the last rays of dusk burning dull red along the horizon. “Still, I’ve no desire to see Oni and Majokawa shed each other’s blood on my land. We agreed to these terms of peace, however uneasy. I won’t be the one who breaks them.”
“Indeed,” said Gurou, allowing the words to hang. “But perhaps we should speak of oaths. Sometimes it’s not so simple. Oaths are broken by slight or by stealth—by the other side, not by us. Do you imagine the Onikawa lords won’t plan your downfall when next they sail?”
The Red Takuma cast him a sidelong look. “Even if that’s true, I fail to see your solution. I won’t permit a midnight slaughter of my guests. That’s the edge of reason.”
Gurou offered a thin, catlike smile. “No midnight assaults, then. But if you’re serious about your loyalty to Majokawa, you’ll do one thing more—help us depart these Isles quickly, while you delay the Oni. Let them remain three days. By the time they sail, we’ll be safely beyond their reach.”
The Red Takuma regarded him, tension rippling across his brow. Yet, after a moment, he gave a grave nod. “A fair request. I’ll see to it.”
Inside the Majokawa pavilion, the atmosphere was thick with the smell of burnt candle wax. They’d lain King Goritsu XI on a bier made of spear-shafts, his black-lacquered armor inlaid with gold, the famed crab crown atop his brow. Four tall candles set the scene in a wavering half-glow. Korudo, Koren, and others hunched gloomily, drained of the earlier bravado. Some looked up at Gurou with simmering resentment. One of them, evidently deep in his cups, sneered. “Here’s the crafty fox who made us lose our chance. You said, ‘Wait till night,’ and now we’re guarded like animals. Are you proud of yourself, Gurou?”
Korudo, that burly War Master:
[Name: Korudo (Lv 47 War Master), Class: Majokawa Champion, Special Abilities: Overpowering Thrust (Rank B), Iron Will (Rank A), Current XP: 32,000 / 45,000]
He glowered a moment but then raised a big hand to silence the man. “Let him speak.”
Gurou stood tall, meeting every narrowed gaze. “You want me to blame myself? Fine. But let me remind you: this arrangement with the Red Takuma is the best we can manage. If we’d attacked the Oni in his hall, the Takuma warriors would’ve joined them, and we’d be standing in a blood-soaked ruin or lying in our graves. Now we’ve at least secured an alliance with the Red Takuma—his signature is right here.”
He showed them a scroll, unrolling the articles of treaty. The Red Takuma’s sign and seal glistened by candlelight. “Is that worthless? No. We might one day find these Isles crucial in controlling the seas. What if the Oni used them to blockade our trade routes? War would be at our door. At least now, the Red Takuma’s pledged to side with us. So you see, the plan stands. Tonight, at midnight, we slip away to Kasei. Let the Oni be stuck here three more days. By the time they realize we’re gone, we’ll be leagues away.”
Koren gave a short laugh. “And the dead King?” He jerked his chin toward Goritsu’s body. “We’re bringing him, what, as a trophy to bury in Kasei’s catacombs?”
“Carry him we must,” Korudo said, voice thick. “And if the Twelfth King of the line of Goritsu now rules in Kasei, he’ll want the remains back for proper rites.” He glanced at Gurou. “That’s all we can do?”
“It is,” Gurou replied. “But we do it swiftly. And once we’re home, the new King—Goritsu XII—will chart our next steps, possibly a blow to humiliate Onikawa in turn.”
A hush fell, but for the guttering of the candles.
Midnight arrived. The Red Takuma, accompanied by a handful of quiet-eyed guards, came to lead the Majokawa lords from their tents down a narrow path to the sea. They bore the King on his spear-shaft bier, armor still encasing his lifeless form. In that moonless dark, the glow from a single torch made the cliffs and winding trail appear spectral and menacing. The water rushed soft and ceaseless along the combe. On they walked, trudging carefully so as not to drop the King. The war-scarred men of Majokawa cast uneasy glances over their shoulders, half-fearing the Oni might appear. But the Oni camps lay silent. The Red Takuma’s expression never changed as he led them away into the chilly night.
And in the gloom at the top of the slope, a lone Kirindrake soared overhead, bearing a small black tsubame and one Haruto Watanabe. Haruto watched from above, the [System] window quietly analyzing the movements below. He felt the tension in the air, saw the flicker of torchlight off Majokawa’s armor. Another chapter in Suisei’s savage dance of loyalties and betrayals had been set in motion, and Haruto felt an uneasy certainty that he, too, stood on the precipice of conflict—no matter how earnestly he wished to remain a mere observer.