Hijiri took a long while to steady himself. His breathing came unevenly at first, each breath dragging smoke into his lungs and leaving a bitter taste upon his tongue. His ears still rang faintly from the blast, and his thoughts struggled to arrange themselves into anything coherent.
But slowly, painfully, his senses returned and the severity of the situation truly settled upon him.
The entire area had been swallowed by smoke. It rolled between the trees in thick layers, curling around broken branches and drifting across the ground like some enormous cloud. Whatever clarity the forest had possessed moments earlier was gone.
Hijiri forced himself upright. His eyes narrowed behind his spectacles as he tried to see through the haze. The smoke was beginning to thin. Barely, just enough for the vague outlines of the surrounding trees to emerge again.
Hijiri took one cautious step forward, then stopped. There was someone standing in front of him. His entire body went still.
At first, it was little more than the image of a person within the smoke. A silhouette, motionless, almost unreal. Hijiri's fingers twitched instinctively at his side as he prepared himself for another attack. Then the smoke shifted, leaving a small clearing in the haze, and Hijiri forgot how to breathe.
There she stood, dark eyes, familiar features. That face he had searched an entire village for. That face no one else seemed to remember. The woman beneath the moonlight. The woman he had held... he had named.
"Kiyora...?" The name escaped him before reason could stop it.
She stood amid the smoke, staring directly at him, but there was none of the serene mystery she had carried beside the moonlit stream. None of that playful elegance. She simply looked... tired. Just profoundly, inexplicably tired, as though witnessing Hijiri standing there had somehow exhausted the final fragment of patience remaining within her.
For a moment, neither spoke. Hijiri stared at her, and Kiyora stared back. One second passed, then another. Slowly, one corner of her mouth lifted into the weariest smirk Hijiri had ever seen, then she sighed, a long, defeated sigh. With all the disappointment of someone witnessing an entirely avoidable disaster, she muttered, "You useless moron."
Hijiri blinked. "What?"
She disappeared. Not gradually, not with golden dust, not with magic unfolding around her. One blink, and she was there. The next, nothing. Smoke rushed back into the empty space where she had stood, swallowing the clearing as though it had never existed.
Hijiri remained frozen. His lips parted slightly. "Kiyora?" No answer. He stepped forward. "Kiyora!" Still nothing. Only smoke, silence, and those three infuriating words now echoing through his mind. You useless moron.
Hijiri stared into the haze, his expression slowly twisting from shock into complete bewilderment. Of all the things she could have said after appearing from nowhere... that was what she chose?
"You could have explained something!" he snapped into the smoke, yet the forest offered him no reply. Hijiri stood there for another moment, visibly offended by the universe itself. Then his expression hardened. Because beneath the confusion, beneath the irritation, and beneath the absurdity of what had just happened, one realization had struck him with terrifying clarity. He had seen her again. Kiyora was real, or whatever she was, and she was still watching him.
Hijiri remained standing amid the smoke and his jaw tightened. Something inside him finally snapped. "Fine!" His voice cut through the silence. Hijiri clenched his fists. "If you insist on appearing whenever you please and vanishing before I can get a single answer from you..." He paused briefly. "Then I'll find you myself."
He pushed his spectacles firmly against the bridge of his nose. "I don't care where you've hidden yourself... I will find you, Kiyora." He paused again, drawing a breath. "At any cost."
Hijiri immediately dropped to one knee. His palm struck the ground.
THUD.
Mysterious energy surged through his arm. A faint pulse spread outward from beneath his hand, slipping through the soil in every direction. Hijiri closed his eyes. The technique itself was simple in principle. Find the lingering magical signature belonging to Kiyora, follow it, locate its source. The ground beneath him would become the medium through which his magical energy travelled. Roots, stone, moisture, buried minerals, every natural structure beneath the forest would carry fragments of his power outward. All he needed was the smallest trace of her.
Hijiri concentrated. "Find her." The pulse travelled deeper. "Find Kiyora." Farther and deeper.
Then Hijiri's brow furrowed. His energy had not found Kiyora. Instead, it had touched... something else. His eyes opened slightly. The magical current continued downward. Hijiri instinctively tried to redirect it, but the moment his power penetrated beyond the upper layers of stone, the world beneath him suddenly opened.
Hijiri's eyes widened as his consciousness was suddenly flooded with shapes, spaces, structures. At first, he could not understand what he was sensing. Then the shapes sharpened into chambers and corridors. His magical energy raced through them. Hijiri stopped breathing. Beneath the mountains was an enormous network of rooms that had been carved deep into the stone. Passageways stretched between them in every direction, some narrow enough for only a single person to pass through, others broad enough for entire groups.
But that wasn't all. Hijiri's magical perception travelled farther. His face slowly lost its colour. There were gateways. Dozens of them. Some remained stationary. Others shifted. Hijiri watched through his magical senses as one passage disconnected from a chamber and aligned itself with another route deeper underground. Then another changed, and another.
The entire network was moving, rearranging, connecting, separating. It resembled some impossible underground railway system, except there were no rails. The pathways themselves were the tracks. The gateways were the junctions. And the mountain itself was hiding all of it.
Hijiri's magical energy surged farther before striking another branch. Then five more. His mind could barely keep pace. The tunnels extended beneath the forest, beneath the mountains, perhaps even farther than that. Rooms, storage chambers, hidden routes, intersections, entrances concealed beneath layers of ground. An entire world existed beneath his feet.
Hijiri violently tore his hand away. "Gh!"
The magical connection shattered. He stumbled backward and nearly fell. For several seconds, he simply stared at the ground. His palm trembled. He slowly looked around. The forest appeared exactly as it had before. Trees, stone, smoke, mountains. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing on the surface that suggested what existed underneath. Yet he had felt it. Every corridor, every chamber, every shifting gateway.
Hijiri's eyes widened further as months of frustration suddenly rearranged themselves inside his mind. The missing messengers, the impossible disappearances, the absence of tracks, the magical traces that ended without explanation, the association nobody could locate, and the Crimson Vows that seemingly existed everywhere and nowhere at once. They weren't disappearing. They weren't travelling across the land where the Hoshika could follow them.
They were travelling... Hijiri looked downward. "...underneath."
The word barely escaped his lips. His heartbeat thundered. For a moment, even Kiyora disappeared from his thoughts. The mysterious woman he had sworn only seconds ago to pursue at any cost was completely forgotten, because beneath his feet lay the answer he had been searching for far longer.
Hijiri scrambled upright. He looked once toward the mountains, then toward the direction of the Hoshika camp. There was no hesitation. He ran. Branches snapped beneath his feet as he sprinted through the forest. His robes whipped violently behind him. He did not conceal his presence. He did not bother covering his tracks. He barely even noticed the remaining smoke. There was only one thought left inside his mind.
The underground.
Hijiri disappeared between the trees at full speed. Behind him, the forest slowly returned to silence. The smoke continued to drift over the ground. And far beneath the ground, hidden gateways shifted once again.
The Hoshika Camp
Hijiri returned to the base camp shortly before dawn. The guards stationed near the perimeter noticed him first. For several seconds, none of them spoke. His robes were torn in several places. Dust clung to the fabric. Faint streaks of dried blood marked the corner of his mouth, and one sleeve had been partially scorched. He looked as though he had walked directly out of a battlefield. Yet his expression remained calm, almost irritatingly so.
Reimei, a well-known Hoshika among the group, immediately stepped forward. "Lord Hijiri!"
Takamori, another of the Hoshika, rose from beside the fire. "What happened?"
Hijiri continued walking. "Gather everyone."
The simplicity of the order silenced them. Within minutes, the senior members of the hunting party had assembled beneath the central canopy. Some were still fastening their robes. Others carried weapons, clearly expecting an immediate attack. Hijiri entered last, sat down, and adjusted his spectacles. He looked around the gathering without any visible panic. Nothing in his demeanour suggested that, only hours earlier, a man had destroyed himself beside him.
One of the younger Hoshika, Shizuru, finally broke the silence. "Lord Hijiri..." Her eyes moved toward the burns along Hijiri's clothing. "What happened to you?"
Hijiri folded his hands loosely before him. "I encountered someone."
The group became still. "Someone?"
Hijiri nodded. "A man calling himself Kageyama."
Several exchanged glances. One of the elders, Seigen, frowned. "Kageyama...?"
Hijiri's gaze remained steady. "He was waiting within the fog."
A quiet uneasiness moved through the group. Hijiri continued, "He knew I was a Hoshika before I identified myself." That drew their attention immediately. "He also knew why we were here."
Silence. Hijiri allowed the weight of that statement to settle. "He claimed he was not a member of the Crimson Vows."
One of the men leaned forward. "Did you believe him?"
"No," Hijiri answered without hesitation. "But I do believe he knew them."
The elder's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"
Hijiri's expression barely changed. "We fought." A pause. "That is what happened."
Several stared at him. One of them looked again at his damaged robes. "Lord Hijiri, with respect... this does not look like an ordinary fight."
Hijiri glanced down at himself. For the first time, he seemed to notice the scorch marks. "No." He looked back up. "It was not."
He began recounting the encounter in measured detail: the fog, Kageyama's taunts, the illusions, the false camp, the multiplying shadows, the sudden transformations designed to distract him, and the attacks hidden beneath layers of deception. He described it all without embellishment. Then his tone changed slightly. "He realized my abilities were greater than he had anticipated."
The elder noticed the careful wording. "Greater?"
Hijiri's eyes remained unreadable. "Yes." He offered nothing more.
The room remained quiet, heavy with stillness and suspicion. Hijiri continued, "Kageyama attempted to send a warning."
"To whom?" another Hoshika asked.
"I don't know, but I stopped it." Hijiri's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly. "After that, I attempted to extract information from him." Another pause. "He understood what I was doing." The fire cracked softly nearby. "And," Hijiri's voice grew colder, "he killed himself."
Several members of the group stiffened. One of them frowned. "Killed himself?"
Hijiri nodded. "He detonated his own body." The words fell heavily.
A few stared at him in disbelief. "He... exploded?"
"Yes," Hijiri replied plainly.
Seigen immediately lowered his gaze. Something about the account did not add up to him: the explosion, the battle, and even the fact that Hijiri had survived something like this.
Hijiri continued as though nothing unusual had been said. "The technique was deliberate. Most likely something trained into him for situations involving capture or interrogation." His eyes narrowed slightly. "He preferred death over allowing us access to whatever he knew."
The elder slowly exhaled. "That would mean whoever he served considered their information more valuable than their own people."
Hijiri said nothing. To him, Kageyama's final decision had not felt like blind obedience. It had felt calculated. Personal. Perhaps even protective. But there was no reason to explain that yet.
Another Hoshika spoke almost carefully now. "Did you learn anything before he died?"
Hijiri's gaze shifted toward him. "Yes."
A few of the Hoshika shared a glance. Hijiri reached toward the table. Multiple maps of the surrounding forest and northern mountains had already been spread across it. He placed one finger against the northern region. "Kageyama repeatedly spoke in riddles." His fingertip moved slightly across the parchment. "Beneath, underneath, in the mountains."
The elder's eyes simply followed. Hijiri continued, "At first, I assumed he was deliberately misleading me." He leaned closer to the map. "After the explosion, I remained in the area and searched for residual magical traces."
This was where the lie began. Not a complete lie. Hijiri preferred those; they were easier to remember. "I found something beneath the surface."
Several faces turned toward him. Hijiri kept his voice perfectly level. "The explosion disturbed the magical residue in the surrounding ground. Some of it travelled downward rather than dispersing." He traced a line across the map. "I followed it with a detection technique."
One of the Hoshika frowned. "And?"
Hijiri stopped moving his finger. His eyes lifted. "There is something beneath the mountains."
Silence. No one moved. The elder slowly leaned forward. "What exactly?"
Hijiri looked at the map again. "A network." His finger tapped the parchment once. "Chambers." Again. "Passageways." Again. "Gateways." His gaze hardened. "An underground system extensive enough that I could not determine its full boundaries."
The atmosphere inside the tent changed instantly. Questions erupted.
"How large?"
"How deep?"
"Was it inhabited?"
"Did you sense anyone?"
"Could it belong to the Crimson Vows?"
Hijiri lifted one hand. The voices stopped. "I do not know." His calmness returned immediately. "But I know this." He looked around the gathering. "We have spent months searching roads, forests, mountain paths, and settlements." His eyes lowered toward the map. "And all this time, we had assumed our targets were moving across the land." His fingertip pressed against the northern mountains. "They may have been moving beneath it."
The realization spread slowly. One of the men looked toward another. "The messengers..."
Hijiri nodded. "Exactly."
The elder's expression darkened. "The ones the Shrouds described. Fast. Silent. Difficult to track."
Hijiri folded his arms. "If those tunnels connect the villages, mountains, and surrounding territories, then a messenger could disappear from one location and emerge miles away without ever travelling through an observable route."
A younger Hoshika stared at the map. "That would explain why we never found tracks."
"Yes."
"Why patrols never saw them."
"Yes."
"And why magical signatures vanished halfway through pursuit."
Hijiri looked toward him. "Yes."
The man's face slowly changed. "So, we were never losing them."
Hijiri's gaze returned to the mountains. "We were watching the wrong world."
No one spoke after that. For months, they had searched everything visible: every path, every settlement, every ridge, every road. And beneath all of it, an entire hidden system may have existed untouched.
One of the elders finally asked, "How certain are you?"
Hijiri answered immediately. "Certain enough that we are changing the investigation."
The authority in his voice ended the discussion. He stood, and the others followed almost instinctively. "No one enters the mountains yet." Several looked surprised. Hijiri continued, "No unnecessary movement." He pointed toward three locations on the map. "Observation groups here, here, and here." His finger shifted. "Record every magical fluctuation." Another point. "Every disappearance." Another. "Every person entering the northern region who does not return by the same route."
The elder nodded. "And the tunnels?"
Hijiri's eyes narrowed. "We find an entrance." His tone remained calm. "But we do not announce that we know they exist." A faint tension crossed the gathering. "If whoever built that network realizes we have discovered it, they may close every route before we reach the first chamber."
The men nodded one by one. Hijiri gathered the map. "For now, Kageyama remains officially unidentified."
A Hoshika hesitated. "And his death?"
"Record it." Hijiri adjusted his spectacles. "Unknown hostile operative. Deceased during engagement after activating a self-destructive technique."
The elder nodded slowly. "And the underground network?"
Hijiri paused. "Restricted." His voice dropped. "Only those in this tent know."
Everyone bowed. "Yes, Lord Hijiri."
The meeting began to disperse. Orders were assigned, maps were collected, and patrol schedules were altered. Within minutes, the base camp had transformed from a stagnant investigation into something alive again.
Hijiri remained beside the table, alone now. His eyes rested upon the northern mountains marked across the parchment. For a moment, his face remained completely composed. Then his eyebrow twitched. Three words returned to him.
You useless moron.
Hijiri's jaw tightened. He had explained the explosion. He had explained Kageyama. He had explained the tunnels. He had explained everything necessary. Everything except her. Kiyora remained his secret. And for reasons even Hijiri himself could not fully explain, he intended to keep it that way.
He stared at the map for another moment, then quietly muttered, "Useless moron, was it...?" His eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. "Just wait until I find you."
Hijiri led them back to the site before the morning had fully broken. The journey was silent, and no one questioned him along the way. The Hoshika followed through the forest in disciplined formation, moving north until the familiar trees began to thin and the dark silhouettes of the mountains rose ahead of them.
Eventually, Hijiri slowed. "This is the place."
The group stopped. For a moment, no one said anything. They didn't need to; the aftermath spoke for itself. The ground had been torn apart. Several trees had been split or uprooted entirely, their trunks blackened around the edges. Broken branches littered the forest floor. Deep fractures ran through the ground where the explosion had struck, while scorched stone and shredded vegetation marked the center of the battlefield. Thin smoke still drifted through portions of the clearing.
One of the Hoshika stared across the destruction. "This was one man?"
Hijiri adjusted his spectacles. "Yes."
Another crouched beside one of the fractures. "And he did this to himself?"
"Yes." The man looked toward Hijiri. Hijiri's expression remained perfectly neutral. "I already explained that."
The Hoshika immediately looked back toward the ground. "Yes, Lord Hijiri."
Hijiri stepped farther into the clearing. For the briefest instant, his eyes moved toward the place where he had seen Kiyora. Nothing remained there now. No figure, no strange opening in the smoke, no trace of her presence. Only ground and broken stone. He pushed the thought aside. There were more important matters now.
Hijiri walked toward the center of the battlefield and stopped. "Stay back."
The group obeyed. He lowered himself onto one knee and pressed his palm against the ground. Several of the Hoshika watched curiously. Hijiri closed his eyes. The first time he had done this, desperation had guided him. He had been searching for Kiyora and had barely understood what he was doing. This time was different. Now he knew what waited beneath him.
Hijiri inhaled slowly, then released his power. A pulse travelled through the ground. At first, nothing visible happened. Then the ground beneath his palm trembled, softly, almost imperceptibly. Hijiri's consciousness sank with the pulse. Through soil, through roots, through stone, deeper. His surroundings faded, and the forest disappeared from his awareness.
Instead, another world began forming inside his mind. Lines, shapes, empty spaces. His power moved through them almost effortlessly. The first chamber appeared, then another. A narrow connecting passage, another chamber, a descending corridor. Hijiri's brow tightened. He pushed farther.
And suddenly, the network unfolded. His breath caught. It was larger than he had realized. Much larger. Dozens of chambers stretched beneath the mountains. Some were small, while others were enormous. There were storage areas, crossing routes, circular rooms, and long tunnels extending outward like veins beneath the ground. And there were the shifting gateways. Hijiri could feel them: stone structures infused with magic, sliding between different paths and connecting distant sections of the underground network. One gateway shifted. A tunnel closed. Another passage opened somewhere farther east.
Hijiri's fingers pressed harder against the ground. The Hoshika standing behind him exchanged uneasy looks.
One of them whispered, "What is he doing?"
Another shook his head. "I don't know."
Then Hijiri spoke. "Thirty paces northeast." Everyone looked toward him. "There is a chamber approximately twelve metres beneath us."
Silence. One of the Hoshika frowned. "You can see it?"
Hijiri did not open his eyes. "No." A pause. "I can feel it." His power shifted. "Another one farther north." His head turned slightly. "Larger." Another pulse. "Three passages connect to it."
The Hoshika stared. Hijiri continued, his voice becoming slower and more focused. "There's another beneath the western ridge. Two chambers beneath that one." His brow furrowed. "And something is moving."
Several hands immediately went toward weapons. Hijiri suddenly opened his eyes. "Strike here."
He pointed toward a portion of the mountainside. The nearest Hoshika hesitated only for a second, then several stepped forward. Magic gathered, and a coordinated blast slammed into the stone.
BOOM.
The mountainside cracked. Dust exploded outward and large sections of rock collapsed. Then darkness appeared behind them. An opening. The group froze. Behind the destroyed wall was a passage, perfectly carved, artificial, hidden.
One of the younger Hoshika stared. "By the heavens..."
Hijiri slowly stood, his eyes remaining fixed upon the opening. "So, I was right."
The group approached cautiously. The tunnel extended into darkness, revealing smooth stone walls, faint traces of old magical inscriptions, tracks of movement, and evidence that people had passed through recently.
Hijiri looked toward the others. "Destroy it."
The order surprised them. "Lord Hijiri?"
"The chamber." He pointed deeper. "Collapse it."
Understanding spread. Several Hoshika raised their hands. Magical energy gathered, and the tunnel erupted. Stone fractured as the passage collapsed inward, sending a deep vibration travelling through the mountain.
Hijiri immediately placed his palm against the ground again and closed his eyes. The underground network reappeared inside his mind. One of the chambers had vanished, crushed and disconnected. But something else happened. The surrounding passages reacted. A gateway shifted, and another route opened.
Hijiri's eyes widened slightly. "They're adapting."
"What?"
"The network." He remained focused. "When one route collapses, the gateways redirect movement."
The elder beside him frowned. "A defensive system?"
"Possibly." Hijiri moved his hand across the ground. "There's another chamber southeast." He pointed. "Destroy it."
The Hoshika obeyed. Another blast, and another hidden section collapsed. Hijiri immediately tracked the reaction. Two tunnels shifted, a gateway rotated, and another route sealed itself.
"Again." He pointed toward another location. "Beneath that ridge."
BOOM. Stone erupted, and another chamber collapsed.
"West."
BOOM.
"Deeper."
BOOM.
"Below us."
The group hesitated. Hijiri opened one eye. "Not directly below us." A brief pause. "Unless everyone has suddenly developed an interest in being buried alive."
Several of them quietly stepped farther back. Hijiri returned his attention underground. One by one, the hidden chambers began disappearing. The Hoshika moved across the region under his direction, striking only where he indicated. No blind excavation, no random destruction. Hijiri guided every attack. A chamber, gone. A supply route, collapsed. A gateway, destroyed. Another passage severed.
With every strike, the underground structure became clearer inside his mind. And with every collapse, Hijiri understood his own power a little more. He was not merely sensing magic; that was what unsettled him. His awareness was penetrating matter itself. Stone did not stop it, and distance barely weakened it. Walls meant nothing. Hidden rooms meant nothing. Seals meant little more than resistance. His power was reaching through the ground and constructing an image from everything it touched: not merely where things were, but how they connected, how they moved, and how their magic flowed.
Hijiri slowly opened his eyes. His palm remained against the ground, his fingers stiff and faintly numbed by the sheer volume of feedback coursing through the rock. A dull, heavy throb had begun to pulse behind his temples, the quiet toll of stretching his mind across miles of solid stone, though his face betrayed none of it. For several seconds, he said nothing. The others continued preparing another strike, but Hijiri barely noticed them. His thoughts had gone elsewhere.
Months. He had spent months searching: tracking footprints, following rumours, watching roads, interrogating villagers, and waiting through endless nights for messengers who seemed to vanish into nothing. And this ability, this absurd, impossible ability, had been inside him the entire time.
His expression became blank. Then something clicked. A tired face emerged within his memory. Kiyora, standing in the smoke. That exhausted smirk, that sigh, and those words.
You useless moron.
Hijiri's eye twitched. He slowly lifted his hand from the ground. One of the Hoshika approached. "Lord Hijiri?" No answer. "Lord Hijiri?"
Hijiri stared into the distance, his expression gradually tightening. Now he understood. She hadn't been insulting his intelligence. At least, not entirely. She had been insulting the fact that he possessed a power capable of finding what he had been searching for all along... and had somehow never thought to use it properly.
Hijiri removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting the simple gesture mask the sharp ache tightening behind his eyes. A long silence followed.
The elder beside him watched curiously. "Is something wrong?"
Hijiri closed his eyes. "No." He paused, then added quietly, "Someone was correct about something."
The elder frowned. "Who?"
Hijiri immediately put his spectacles back on. "No one." The answer came far too quickly.
The elder stared, but Hijiri ignored him and looked toward the ruined mountain passages. Another chamber remained beneath the eastern slope, then another beyond it. The network still stretched far deeper. His expression returned to its usual calm, but internally, his dignity had suffered a catastrophic defeat. Kiyora... He could practically hear her sigh again. You useless moron.
Hijiri's jaw tightened. "Prepare another strike."
The Hoshika moved immediately. "Where?"
Hijiri lowered his palm toward the ground once more. His power surged downward, and a faint smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Everywhere they thought we would never find."
Far beneath them, another hidden gateway began to shift. Hijiri sensed it instantly. This time, it wasn't getting away.
The decision was made before the next chamber fell. Deep beneath the northern mountains, the remaining members of the Crimson Vows gathered in silence. Dust drifted from the ceiling, and cracks had spread across the walls. Several passages behind them had already been sealed, while others had collapsed completely under the relentless strikes from above.
No one spoke for some time. Then another distant impact rolled through the mountain.
BOOM.
The chamber trembled, and a lantern hanging from one of the stone pillars swung violently. One of the younger members instinctively looked upward. "They found another one."
No one answered. They all knew. The Hoshika were not searching anymore; they were dismantling the underground network piece by piece. And worse, they were doing it without entering.
A senior member stood near the damaged communication seal, his expression grave. "We cannot continue this."
A few heads lifted. One of the fighters clenched his jaw. "You mean retreat?"
"No." The senior member slowly turned toward them. "I mean surrender."
The word struck harder than the collapsing tunnels. Several members immediately stiffened. One stepped forward, his voice sharpening. "Surrender? After Sensei died?"
Another slammed his fist against the stone wall. "Kageyama-sensei gave his life so they would learn nothing from him!"
"And if we continue?" The senior member's voice cut through them. The chamber fell silent. He pointed upward. "If we continue resisting, how many more chambers do they destroy?" No one answered. "How many routes?" Silence. "How many villages connected to those routes?"
That silenced them completely. The senior member's gaze moved from face to face. "They are searching for us." His voice lowered. "Not the civilians. Not the families. Us." He placed a hand against his chest. "The northern group."
The realization was bitter, but undeniable. The Hoshika had come north because of them. Every tunnel being destroyed was collateral damage caused by their refusal to emerge.
One of the older fighters whispered, "If we present ourselves..."
"They may stop." The senior member nodded. "That is what I am counting on."
Another member shook his head. "You are assuming they will accept surrender."
"No." His expression darkened. "I am assuming that remaining underground is worse."
A quiet uneasiness passed through the group. Then one of the elders, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. "There is another reason."
Everyone turned toward him. The elder was among the oldest members of the northern branch. His hair had long since turned grey, and unlike the others, there was something beyond fear in his expression. Recognition. He looked toward the floor, toward the ground beneath which Hijiri's power continued to move. "That ability."
The younger fighters exchanged glances. "What about it?"
The elder didn't answer immediately. He walked toward a small stone cabinet built into the chamber wall. Most of its contents had already been removed, but from its lowest compartment, he withdrew a narrow book wrapped in faded black cloth.
Several members went still. They recognized it. One whispered, "Sensei's restricted archive..."
The elder nodded and carefully placed the book upon the table. The cloth was removed. Beneath it lay an ancient manuscript. Its cover was cracked and the title had almost completely faded, yet everyone in the chamber knew what it was. The Book of Forbidden Knowledge. A collection of records so old that even possessing certain sections could condemn an entire lineage.
The elder opened it carefully. Pages passed beneath his fingers: ancient illustrations, dead languages, warnings, accounts of beings whose existence had long since been reduced to myth. Then his hand stopped. He turned the manuscript around, and the others gathered closer.
A faded illustration occupied most of the page. A figure stood upon a mountain; one hand pressed against the ground. Beneath that hand, an entire underground world had been revealed: cities, tunnels, buried structures. Everything hidden beneath stone appeared exposed before the figure. No walls, no barriers, no concealment.
The younger member slowly stepped backward. "That..." His voice failed.
Another stared at the image. "That is what the Hoshika is doing."
The elder shook his head. "No." His expression tightened. "It is similar."
That distinction somehow made the room colder. One of the fighters leaned closer. "What does it say?"
The elder's eyes moved across the ancient script. "It describes a power capable of extending consciousness through matter." He translated slowly. "Ground. Stone. Walls. Living structures. Magical barriers." His voice grew quieter. "The bearer does not simply sense what lies beyond them." He looked around the chamber. "They perceive the hidden world as though nothing stands between them and it."
No one moved. The elder continued, "The book does not classify such a wielder as a warrior." A pause. "Nor a mage." His finger stopped beside one particular symbol. "It classifies them as a mythical-level threat."
The words settled like frost. Someone gave a nervous laugh. "A mythical threat?" No one joined him, and his laughter died quickly.
The elder turned another page. More warnings appeared, most written in red ink. Some passages had been deliberately scratched away. And where the supposed holder of this power should have been named, the text had been violently mutilated: blackened, burned, covered with repeated warning seals.
One of the younger fighters frowned. "Where is the name?"
The elder looked at him. "There isn't one."
"It was removed?"
"No." The elder swallowed. "The records say it was forbidden."
Silence. Another member leaned closer. "Forbidden to write?"
The elder shook his head. "Forbidden to speak."
Something shifted in the chamber. The younger fighter stared at him. "You mean the name itself?"
The elder nodded once. "According to the manuscript, even taking the holder's true name aloud was considered a curse."
No one laughed now. A distant tremor passed through the chamber, and tiny stones fell from the ceiling. Every face turned upward. For the first time, none of them imagined Hijiri standing above them. Instead, they imagined whatever might be standing behind him, whatever power had taken root within him.
One of the members whispered, "Sensei knew."
The senior representative looked toward him. "What?"
"Kageyama-sensei." The man's face had gone pale. "During his last warning... he said the Hoshika's power was wrong."
Another remembered. "He said it did not feel mortal."
A third spoke. "He tried to warn the clan."
The room fell silent again. Now Kageyama's final actions carried a different weight. Perhaps he had not merely realized Hijiri was stronger; perhaps he had recognized something that terrified even him.
The senior representative slowly closed the forbidden book. "That settles it." No one argued. "We surrender."
A younger fighter looked toward him. "All of us?"
"All who remain in the northern group." His answer was immediate. "We are the people the Hoshika came here to find." He looked around the damaged chamber. "So, we give them what they came for."
Another explosion echoed faintly through the mountain. The senior representative's expression hardened. "Before they bring the entire northern network down on top of everyone else."
No one objected this time. Weapons were gathered, not for battle, but for surrender. Blades were bound, magic seals were deactivated, and documents were burned. Anything containing the location of another crimson branch was destroyed. By the time they were finished, almost nothing remained that could endanger the others.
The senior representative looked toward the final escape passage. "Send one last message."
A communicator stepped forward. "To whom?"
"All branches." The representative paused. "Tell them the northern group is surrendering." His jaw tightened. "Tell them not to come for us." A painful silence followed. "And tell the middle branch that our final request remains unchanged."
The communicator nodded. "Protect the Chief."
"Yes."
"His wife."
"Yes."
"And his child."
The representative closed his eyes briefly. "At any cost."
The message was sent. Then the northern Crimson Vows began walking upward. For the first time in years, they travelled toward the surface without hiding their presence. No concealment spells, no false routes, no shadows. They wanted to be seen.
Above ground, another Hoshika strike was being prepared. Hijiri stood several paces ahead of the others, one hand resting against the ground. His consciousness stretched through the underground passages once more. A chamber, empty. Another, recently abandoned. A gateway, sealed.
Then Hijiri's brow furrowed. Something had changed. Movement. Not scattered, not fleeing, but a large group moving upward, directly toward them.
Hijiri opened his eyes. "Stop."
The Hoshika immediately halted their attack. One of the officers looked toward him. "What is it?"
Hijiri rose slowly, steadying his breathing against a brief wave of vertigo as his overextended senses pulled back from the deep stone. "They're coming."
Weapons were drawn and magic gathered, but Hijiri lifted one hand. "Do not attack." The group stared at him. "They're not approaching in battle formation." Hijiri's eyes remained fixed upon the mountainside. "They want us to see them."
A few moments passed. Then the stone entrance ahead shifted, and a hidden section of the mountain opened. One figure emerged, then another, and another. Dozens followed. Men and women in the colours of the Crimson Vows stepped into the morning light. No weapons were raised. Several carried swords, but they had been bound inside their sheaths. Others had already placed their weapons upon the ground before walking forward.
The Hoshika tightened their formation. Hijiri did not move.
The northern representative emerged last. He walked several paces ahead of the others, then stopped. For one long moment, he and Hijiri stared at one another. The representative's eyes briefly moved toward Hijiri's hand, the same hand that had been pressed against the ground. A flicker of unmistakable fear crossed his face. Hijiri noticed, though he said nothing.
The representative slowly lowered himself onto one knee. Behind him, the entire northern group followed. The forest became silent as weapons were placed upon the ground and heads bowed.
The representative spoke first. "We are the northern group of the Crimson Vows."
Several Hoshika exchanged stunned looks. Hijiri's expression remained unreadable.
The representative continued, "You are the ones who have been searching for us."
Hijiri adjusted his spectacles. "Yes."
The man swallowed. "Then stop destroying the passages." There was no anger in his voice, only exhaustion. "We will surrender."
The Hoshika went completely still. Even Hijiri seemed momentarily surprised.
The representative lowered his head further. "There are villages connected to those routes. Families. People who have nothing to do with your investigation." His hands tightened against his knees. "You want us. So, take us."
A heavy silence followed. Hijiri studied them. He had expected resistance, escape, perhaps even another suicidal attack like Kageyama's. Not this.
One of the Hoshika beside him whispered, "Lord Hijiri... this could be a trap."
The northern representative heard him. He slowly lifted his head. "If we intended to fight..." His gaze shifted toward Hijiri. "We would not have come anywhere near him."
Something about the way he said it drew Hijiri's attention. Not you. Him.
Hijiri narrowed his eyes. The fear in their faces was not ordinary. It was not merely the fear of being captured. They were afraid of him. Or more precisely, of something inside him.
Hijiri stepped forward, and the northern representative visibly tensed. Hijiri stopped. "Why surrender now?"
The man hesitated, then looked toward the ruined mountain behind him. "Because we finally understood what is hunting us."
Hijiri's expression changed almost imperceptibly. The representative said nothing more, but in his eyes, Hijiri saw something he had not expected. Recognition. Not of Hijiri himself, but of his power.
And for the first time since Kiyora had called him a useless moron, Hijiri wondered whether discovering what he could do had been the least important part of the revelation. Perhaps the real question was why he could do it at all.
TO BE CONTINUED....