Chapter 131
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier after Onigakure continued speaking, as if every word that left his mouth added another layer of lead pressing against the chest of everyone present.
He spoke with a confidence that grew alongside his explanation, with the awareness that what he was saying would determine the direction of the discussion that followed, with a burden of responsibility that became increasingly heavy as he realized his words might change how everyone viewed the situation they were facing.
Onigakure explained that all of this did not simply emerge from the silence of his thoughts, did not arise from sudden anxiety without cause, but rather came from what he had read, what he had observed, what he had analyzed during his time serving as a captain of Team Xirkushkartum.
In every recent assignment, in every journey across the various territories under his responsibility, in every moment where he had to lead his subordinates across boundaries that should not be crossed, Onigakure always found traces, always found remnants, always found signs that something immense was being prepared.
These traces were not always clear, not always easy to interpret, not always visible to untrained eyes.
Sometimes they appeared as strange circles on the ground that could not be explained by wind or animals, sometimes as arrangements of stones too precise to be called coincidence, sometimes as lingering scents in the air despite the absence of any visible source.
But for Onigakure, who had spent years studying enemy patterns, for Onigakure, who had trained himself to read even the smallest signs, all those traces spoke the same language, all those remnants told the same story, all those clues pointed toward a single, unavoidable conclusion.
That there would be a summoning ritual, that there would be a being called back from a place it should never return from, that something would be born before its time and bring destruction to anyone near it.
The Satanic High Officials gathered under the Banner of Zhulumat began to show signs of unease that could no longer be fully concealed.
Some of them shifted in their seats more frequently than before, others bit their lower lips unconsciously, while a few clenched their hands on their laps so tightly that their fingers turned pale.
They were all leaders who had endured too many battles, witnessed too many deaths, faced too many critical situations to be easily shaken by anything.
Yet what Onigakure was describing now, what he was detailing with increasing horror, what he predicted would happen if the Twelve Prohibitions and Ten Obligations were successfully completed by the Angels and Sacred Beings, all of it lay beyond the boundaries of their experience, beyond the scenarios they had ever considered, beyond even their wildest imagination.
Onigakure continued, his voice growing steadier, clearer, more undeniable.
He explained that if the ritual reached its peak, if the twelve prohibitions were upheld without a single violation, if the ten obligations were fulfilled without a single failure, then what would occur was something beyond the grasp of reason.
All the essence that had long served as the source of life for the satanic community in the occupied capital, all the energy that had formed the foundation of their resistance against the agents of the One Accursed, all the power that had allowed the Blessed City of Thalyssra under the Great Sanse to stand despite being besieged from all sides—everything would be drained, siphoned, exhausted completely, until nothing remained, until not a single drop was left to sustain their defense.
And from the emptiness left behind by that extraction, from the void created after all essence had been consumed, from the gaping hollow at the heart of the city, something would rise, something would be born, something would emerge and claim what was rightfully its own.
"Thank you for the permission. I will go straight to the core of the matter."
Huuuuuh!
"With all due respect, my friend Onigakure, what you are saying sounds far too far-fetched."
Amid the silence that still lingered after Onigakure's explanation, as everyone remained occupied processing the words that had just echoed and spun within their minds, a hand suddenly rose.
The movement came from another side of the circle, from a captain who had spoken far less than he had remained silent, from Makakushi, who since the beginning of the meeting had sat with a slightly hunched posture and eyes that appeared weary yet never once lost focus.
Makakushi's hand rose with a faint tremor, a tremor whose origin was unclear—whether it stemmed from restrained anger or concealed nervousness—but it was unmistakable to the sharp eyes observing from every corner of the room.
Zhulumat Katamtum, still seated in the same posture as before, with half-closed eyes that nevertheless captured even the slightest movement in the room, gave a subtle nod.
A nod that was nearly imperceptible, yet clear enough for Makakushi, a nod that granted permission, that gave the signal, that opened the door for words that had long been waiting to be spoken.
Makakushi took a deep breath before beginning, a breath meant to calm the turbulence that had been gnawing at his chest, a turbulence that grew with every word spoken by Onigakure, a turbulence that had now reached a point where it could no longer be restrained, no longer suppressed, no longer hidden behind the mask of composure he had always worn so perfectly.
When that breath was finally released, when the warm air left his mouth and formed a thin vapor in the stifling room, Makakushi began to speak.
His voice was not as smooth as Onigakure's, not as calm as the High Officials who were accustomed to weighing their words carefully, but precisely because of that, his words felt rawer, more direct, more honest.
He stated that everything Onigakure had said—the theories about the Twelve Prohibitions and Ten Obligations, the predictions about the draining of essence and the awakening of a being—was too far-fetched, too excessive, too distant from what could be accepted by reason.
"And there is one more thing I must emphasize."
Ssssh!
"You claim they are conducting a grand ritual, a sacred tradition bound by prohibitions and obligations. However, the facts on the ground show something entirely different. Most of the agents of the One Accursed—those Angels and Sacred Beings—have been acting openly. They are constructing sacred sanctuaries in the territories they control. They are restoring the long-neglected residences of the satanic community. They clean, they arrange, they repair."
Makakushi did not stop at his initial rebuttal.
After taking another breath, after sensing that his previous words still lingered in the air and had not yet fully settled into the minds of those present, he continued with arguments that were sharper, more directed, more piercing toward the heart of the issue.
He questioned, with a tone that could not conceal his doubt, how Onigakure could speak with such certainty about a ritual carried out by Angels and Sacred Beings, about the Twelve Prohibitions and Ten Obligations they must uphold, about the draining of essence and the awakening of a being, when the reality on the ground told a very different story.
To be continued…