Vermilion Palace — The Outer Halls
Silken robes. Painted smiles. Lies beneath every word. The Vermilion Palace was a stage, and everyone wore a mask.
Except Tianming. He wore a smirk. From the moment Itachi arrived, the atmosphere shifted. Nobles paused mid-step when Tianming entered the court. Servants whispered his name with caution.
He wasn't just the last prince anymore. He was the one they couldn't see coming.
⸻
Above the Ceiling, Within the Walls — Itachi's Shadow Web, Crows, Paper tags, Genjutsu-laced whispers. Itachi moved without sound.
He'd recruited or duplicated over a dozen covert agents—none aware of the others. Hidden messages were left beneath teacups, behind wall scrolls, and in the seams of robes.
Within a day:
• A noble's mistress was revealed as a Black Tortoise spy.
• A servant boy was caught placing spirit-sapping powder in Tianming's food.
• A minister known for loyalty had been secretly corresponding with the Western Sun Kingdom.
The two met in a sealed chamber below the palace—the very room Tianming had bled in to summon him. Itachi sat quietly, sipping tea he had brewed himself.
"Three betrayals in two days," Tianming murmured, flipping through the scrolls Itachi handed him. "You work fast."
"I work in silence," Itachi replied. "And traitors speak loudest when they think no one listens."
Tianming tapped the scroll. "What would you do with them?"
"Exposing them all at once will only drive others deeper into hiding," Itachi said. "Punish one. Protect another. Use one as bait. Break the illusion of safety."
Tianming looked thoughtful. "You don't hesitate to manipulate."
Itachi didn't blink. "I lived in lies to preserve peace. If truth alone could protect the world, I would've died a child."
Then Tianming chuckled. "I summoned a philosopher with a blade. Good. Let's test your theory."
Tianming called court the next day. The hall was packed.
"I've received disturbing evidence," he said coldly. "Treason hides under silk."
Gasps. Whispers.
Minister Lian, long seen as harmless, stepped forward. "Your Majesty, surely—"
Tianming raised a hand. From the ceiling, a crow feather dropped.
Then another.
Then a scroll floated into Tianming's grasp, seemingly from nowhere. Signed confessions. Spirit seal verification.
Itachi stood in the back, silent, invisible to all but Tianming.
Lian fell to his knees. The court turned quiet. Even the wind held its breath.
Back in the workshop, Kisuke chuckled as he heard the news.
"So the polite one turns out to be the scariest."
Tianming smirked. "He's not scary. He's effective."
Kisuke squinted. "Same thing, really."
He stirred a new formation with a spirit-ink brush. "What next? Bribes? Assassinations?"
Tianming looked out the small crystal slit into the distant capital skyline.