The heavy doors of the Onirokami palace creaked open, revealing towering corridors lined with banners of deep crimson and gold. Lanterns flickered along the polished wood, casting shadows that danced across the intricate dragon carvings. As Michi and his companions entered, the atmosphere shifted—no longer the laughter and liveliness of the market, but the stillness of a domain where discipline reigned.
Waiting just inside were the twin boys, Kaelen and Darian, dressed in matching black robes embroidered with silver threads. They bowed in perfect unison, their movements synchronized like a single being.
"Master Tekia," they said together, their voices echoing. "Master Renjiro awaits you in the Prince's chamber."
Tekia's legs stiffened instantly. His earlier bravado melted, and he forced a shaky laugh. "Ah… y-yes, I knew that, gozaru. Thank you… Kaelen, Darian."
Kaelen smirked faintly while Darian's lips curled into a sharper grin, both clearly enjoying the prince's nervousness.
The group followed as the twins led them down the long corridor until they stopped at a sliding door decorated with a painted wave crest. Kaelen slid it open, revealing a broad room lit by sunlight streaming through paper screens. At its center stood a man of imposing stature—broad shoulders wrapped in layered robes, a scar cutting across his stern face. His presence alone commanded silence.
Renjiro Kazen. The acting Shogun of Onirokami.
Tekia stepped forward hesitantly, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead. "Renjiro-sama, I have returned—"
The words were cut short by a fist slamming directly into his gut.
"GUH!" Tekia wheezed, doubling over as his body folded like paper.
Before he could recover, Renjiro's knuckles descended again, bonking him straight on the head with such force that bumps swelled instantly, forming lumpy "potatoes" across his scalp.
"Owww—! Renjiro-sama, please!!" Tekia whimpered, clutching his head as tears nearly formed in his eyes.
The others froze in stunned silence, but the air quickly lightened with the absurdity of Tekia's cartoonish suffering.
Renjiro's voice thundered, sharp as a blade. "You are the crown prince of Onirokami! Soon to be the Shogun! And yet you remain careless, reckless, and foolish. How many times must you shame me before the people?"
Tekia scrambled backward on his knees, bowing repeatedly. "I-I'm sorry, Renjiro-sama! Please forgive me, gozaru! This time, I swear I'll—"
Renjiro leaned closer, his glare burning. "This is the last time I spare you. The next time you fail me, I will tie you to a bamboo tree in the central square and let every citizen witness your disgrace."
Tekia's jaw dropped, his face draining of all color. "N-No… n-not in front of everyone, gozaru…" He trembled like a leaf, horror etched into his expression.
Renjiro straightened, folding his arms. "Remember it."
Before Tekia could collapse entirely, he quickly pointed toward Michi and the others, desperate to shift attention. "Ah! Renjiro-sama, these are my friends! Michi and his companions! They came here for something important, gozaru!"
Renjiro's stern eyes swept across the group, measuring each of them silently. His gaze lingered on Michi, sharp enough to pierce skin.
"Speak," he ordered.
Michi stepped forward, steadying his breath. "We came… for the door piece. I was told one lies here in Onirokami."
Renjiro's expression shifted—surprise flickering in his eyes before it hardened into acceptance. Slowly, he nodded. "Yes. The piece is here. And I believe you may indeed be the one worthy of holding it."
Tekia blinked rapidly. "Wait, WHAT?! We had a door piece this whole time, gozaru?! Why didn't I know about it?!"
Renjiro turned on him in a flash, pinching his cheeks hard and stretching them like dough. "Because you are careless! You think I would trust such responsibility to a boy who can't even keep his head clear for five minutes?"
"Uwwaaaahh!! Renjiro-sama, let gooo, gozaru!" Tekia cried, flailing helplessly as the others tried not to laugh.
Renjiro finally released him with a huff, turning back toward Michi. "Listen carefully. You may already know the legends of the Reverents. Twenty beings, twenty powers, twenty weapons. Each one forged not just as a tool, but as a vessel for despair, wrath, hope, or eternity."
His tone grew heavier, filling the chamber with tension.
"Michi, you already wield eight weapon types—sword, claymore, dagger, hatchet, bow, grimoire, scythe, and spear. Each corresponds to one of the Reverents. But each weapon type also has a master—a wielder destined to embody its essence. Not all of their identities are known, nor if all are even alive. Some may have vanished. Some may have fallen. Still, their legacy lingers."
Michi's brow furrowed, his mind racing. The weight of Renjiro's words pressed on him like iron.
Renjiro continued, his voice firm. "Katana is not a separate class. It is but a variant of the sword type, unique to Onirokami's bloodline and culture. It carries our spirit, not the Reverents'. That is why the door piece rests here—it must be entrusted to someone who proves themselves, not only in power but in heart. If you are worthy, Michi, I will give it to you."
Tekia leapt to his feet suddenly, fists clenched. "He IS worthy! I've seen him fight, Renjiro-sama! Michi's strong enough to—"
Before he could finish, Renjiro's hand shot out, seizing Tekia's face. With a single slam, he drove him into the polished floorboards. The impact rang through the chamber, leaving Tekia sprawled with his cheek pressed flat, his face red as fire.
"Stay out of this, Tekia," Renjiro growled. "This is no matter for childish boasts."
Tekia groaned, clutching his bruised face. "Y-Yes, Renjiro-sama… I'll… stay out, gozaru…"
The others exchanged glances. Lior crossed his arms with a faint smirk, Kael muttered something about "strict discipline," while Junia and Tieu whispered concern for Tekia's suffering. Tiana shook her head with a chuckle.
Michi spoke firmly. "Then tell me what I must do."
Renjiro's eyes narrowed, but before he could answer fully, a sudden blur dropped from the ceiling above. A figure landed silently, one knee pressed to the floor, dark armor clinging to his lean frame. His masked face tilted upward, and he bowed deeply.
"My apologies, Renjiro-sama." His voice was cold and measured. "But I must interrupt. The enemy is here."
Renjiro's eyes sharpened. "Enemy?"
The ninja continued, his words hurried. "An army. They have appeared at our coasts, countless in number. Undead mermaids—they swarm the shorelines and surround every port. Our forces are already engaging, but…"
Renjiro's jaw tightened. "Who leads them? Tell me, Veylin."
The masked boy hesitated. A shiver ran through his body as though even uttering the name brought despair.
"Answer me," Renjiro barked.
Veylin's fists clenched. "It's… it's…" His voice faltered, breaking. Then he forced it out like poison. "…Myza."
The chamber froze.
Renjiro's expression shattered into silence, his face pale yet burning with suppressed fury. Tekia's eyes widened in terror, his lips trembling.
"Myza…" Tekia whispered. The single name carried weight heavier than any blade. The air itself seemed to darken, the laughter of moments before swallowed whole by a suffocating silence.