Midsummer night on Suisei was a tapestry of star-fire and silence as the vessel bearing the Oni of Onikawa eased toward its destination. Lord Jūsō (Lv 56), and Lord Daigo (Lv 54) both newly returned from battle in far-off Majokawa, slept on the ship’s poop deck, their cloaks heavy with midnight dew. The sea lay still, lulled under the hush of wind, broken only by the soft hiss of waves against the prow, the steady creak and dip of the oars, and the murmured tune of the steersman keeping a low chant. High above, the stars burned like cold sapphire and shimmered near the northwest horizon, watching over Onikawa. In the distant south, the solitary light of Fōmaru rose from the deep, a lonely jewel glimmering in the watery darkness.

  A fresh wind swept in at first dawn. Jūsō stirred, blinking away sleep, and scanned the pearly expanse of ocean that stretched into a haze of sky-water at the world’s edges. Far behind them, sunrise clouds flared in fiery peaks, vast citadels of wine-dark vapor crowned with scarlet banners. Above the roiling storm-light, the horned moon floated, pallid as foam. Ahead, in the west, the silhouette of Kasada Island thrust upward like a blade of cut crystal at the sky, crowned in pale gold while the lower slopes clung to vestiges of night. The swirling mists around Kasada, restless in the morning breeze, roved across rocky flanks and gullies. Some tufts drifted free, ghostly puffs adrift under the brightening sun, while others sank back to cloak the heights in dreamlike, golden vapor. And past Kasada, all the western seaboard of Onikawa slowly revealed itself in the day’s newborn light: stretching from Kitaya Shoto to Tatsuhō, from Kesutawaki to Bairando, with the serrated Togeura and the towering peaks of Tibaran Tani beyond, until the line of them vanished far in the southern haze. Jūsō gazed upon this beloved coastline as one might on a friend long absent.

  Silence lay between him and Daigo until they reached Mihara Bay, where a headland jabbed needle-sharp into the surf. Within the bay, the tide churned as if possessed—reefs and hidden shoals set the waters boiling. Even from two miles out, the sea’s roar was unmistakable. Jūsō, brushing salt spray from his hair, finally spoke. “Homura once told me we’d be safe if we kept the right heading. Could’ve fooled me.”

  Daigo, half awake, let a lazy grin cross his features. “When I was Level 20, that whirlpool might’ve shaken my bones. Now?” He shrugged, as though the sea’s menace merely spurred him on.

  They both recalled the day they drove a band of Yurei vessels into these unforgiving currents, long ago. Now, drifting so near, Jūsō murmured, “I had nights I wished it had swallowed me, back when we lost track of Kinryu. Some burdens weigh heavier than the water’s deep.”

  Daigo cast him a quick glance. “You’re too stubborn for that.” He said nothing more. From the stern, Haruto Watanabe—who had boarded quietly at some far port—observed them in silence, as if absorbing every detail.

  Shortly, they slipped into Mihara Bay and along the marble quay, where Lord Homura (Lv 53) stood waiting with a squad of Oni warriors. He spoke in a subdued tone. “Figured we’d do trumpets and banners for your return, but Daisetsu talked me out of it. Probably a wise call.”

  Jūsō clasped Homura’s arm. “It’s fine. By the sounds of those hammer blows, you’ve better tasks than ceremonies.”

  Homura nodded. “Ten new keels on the slipway. We’re trying to stay ready if Majokawa bites back.”

  They rode north past the harbor, over Habasha Tange, then toward Bekufuto, eventually climbing under Sakushi-take until arriving near midday at Garen, the ancestral stronghold of Jūsō’s line.

  Garen perched on black rock at the meeting of two sweeping forested valleys. Its cliffs fell sharply on three sides—down into woods thick with oak, birch, and rowan. Only from the northeast might an army approach, and even then only by a narrow grass saddle no wider than a bowshot. Over that saddle, a paved road wound to the Lion Gate, and just inside the gate lay the yew-lined grass walk where, some weeks past, Haruto Watanabe had quietly taken note of a passing tsubame before retreating into the castle’s hush.

  That night, after a meager supper, Jūsō took to Garen’s walls. High-summer starlight blazed across the dark ridges, and below in the trees, owls hooted at intervals, the faint clink of bells echoing across the ravine. The mountain air was cold and salt-tinged, hinting of the nearby sea. Jūsō savored the hush for some hours, then at last retired to his south-tower chamber, bones weary, mind unsettled.

  His bed—four-poster of hammered gold—hung with tapestries woven in moody blues. The canopy above was inlaid with stones like a starry night: pale topazes and diamonds arranged in the shape of Orion, a constellation dear to him since he first rose to Level 10. His sword, “Sky-Piercing Blade,” waited on a small table by the bed, while tall chests lined the walls, stuffed with garments and valuables. Two windows let in the hush of the mountain wind.

  Before cock’s crow, a dream seized him, vivid as an ambush. In it, he saw a monstrous, draconic beast wreathed in black flame, many-headed, rampaging in his chamber. Around it scuttled five smaller horrors, scorching tapestries, spitting cinders at the bed. Jūsō tried to reach for a spear—the dream insisted it was his greatest treasure—but he couldn’t move. The beast scooped that spear into its jaws, then left with an echoing roar. Freed at once, Jūsō grabbed an axe from the wall. Daigo, Tatsuo, Zeki, and Homura suddenly appeared, each in vain fighting the five smaller fiends. In the smoky chaos, a carving shaped like an owl at the bed’s corner turned to him and spoke in a human voice: “Fool. You deserve misery, ignoring your true weapon.”

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  He shouted back, demanding to know where the beast had fled. The owl-figure answered, “Seek Koshita Beron!”

  At once, Jūsō woke, finding himself on the floor, sword in hand instead of any spear. The dream’s terrors still clung to him. He dressed quickly, lit a torch, and made his way through Garen’s corridors to Homura’s chamber. There, he told him the dream in hushed detail.

  Homura, still half-lost to slumber, rubbed his eyes and said, “If your heart says it’s real, Jūsō, I’ll trust you. We can’t turn our backs on a sign, no matter how strange.”

  Then Jūsō roused Daigo, who blinked blearily from beneath a heap of blankets. “You can’t possibly want me awake at this hour,” Daigo complained. “Give me two hours. I’ll bathe, I’ll eat, and then we’ll talk about bizarre mountains all you want. Now get out.”

  Jūsō had to grin, despite the bleakness. And after dawn, once they had eaten, the three men walked a cedar-shaded path along Garen’s orchard. At last, Daigo said, “So. Koshita Beron is in Imaraku’s deepest darkness, from what I’ve read. But you’re set on chasing it if there’s any clue about Kinryu?”

  Jūsō’s stance was resolute. “I can’t wait around, not with my brother a captive in Majokawa. If the dream was right, Koshita Beron holds answers.”

  Daigo nodded reluctantly. “Then let’s get help. I’ve got a treatise from Katsuragi—notes compiled by Gurou, that wayward enchanter in Majokawa’s court. Detailed accounts of the roads in Imaraku, and maybe beyond. We read up, we gather steel, we do it right.”

  They saddled fresh horses and set out that very morning for Daigo’s seat at Kurotorine. Jūsō sent dispatches to Lord Daisetsu in Kasada and to Lord Tatsuo at Kurayakata, summoning them for counsel. They wound along the pass, hugging the shore of Tsukiyo Lake—a turquoise mirror framed by birch. Stark summits rose to the north: Guramori-take, Mikusuka-take, and Iritaka. Near midday, they stood on the crest gazing down into Amadare Tani, the waters of Kawakiri glinting off westward. They paused by Zeki’s keep, leaving word for him, and pressed onward, until they emerged onto Kurotorine Side. Late-afternoon sunlight stretched across the meadows. In the west, the sea shimmered gold, while above them towered the cliffs. And there, on a rise half a mile off, stood the gleaming onyx ramparts of Kurotorine.

  A lone rider approached: Daigo’s sister, Lady Meyurin, seated gracefully on a dapple-gray mare. She wore a gown of pale buff silk spun through with golden webs along the corsage, black hair pinned with silver rods. Her eyes brimmed with relief at Daigo’s return.

  “So you made it back in one piece.” Her warm greeting belied a simmering tension. “You three look like you’ve been brawling with storms.”

  Daigo sighed. “We might as well have. A lot’s happened, Meyurin. Let’s go inside before the day grows old.”

  She led them up a winding path between towering cedars, past a still lake where black swans drifted. A steep trail climbed to the wide onyx gate. Kirindrake effigies loomed on either side—gold filigree accenting wings and hooves.

  Inside, Kurotorine offered a cool refuge of white stone colonnades and airy courtyards dripping with lush greenery. Tapestries of epic battles, labyrinthine passages, and star-laden vistas adorned the halls. Daigo once quipped that half a kingdom’s gold wouldn’t match the artistry in a single corridor here. Yet for all its grandeur, Kurotorine possessed a restful magic, tempting the weary to surrender to dream.

  By sunset, Zeki arrived from his hunts. Deep into the night, Lord Daisetsu and Tatsuo galloped in, dusty from their journey. At first light, the Oni lords—save those who must guard Onikawa’s coasts—gathered in Kurotorine.

  They met in a rose-draped alley under cedar beams. A sunken garden opened beneath them, dew sparkling on neat lawns and flowerbeds, leading down to a fish-pond bright with lilies. At the edge of a vast jade basin brimming with exotic blossoms lounged Daigo, the goatskin-bound treatise on his lap. Homura paced to one side, while Meyurin sat on a bench, absently stroking a tiny komizaru dozing on her sleeve. Haruto Watanabe lingered at a distant marble column, quietly observing it all.

  “All right,” Homura said, turning to Daigo. “We’re all here, so read from that book. Let’s see which route kills us less quickly.”

  Daigo’s eyebrows quirked. “You only want the short version? Fine.” He thumbed to a marked page. “It’s Gurou’s notes—he traveled Imaraku, mapping desert roads to Moruno Morana. Says there’s basically two ways: you either disembark at Araraguchi and fight your way through half a dozen strongholds, or sail for the Gulf of Mureba, land in emptier country, and cross from there.”

  Homura scowled. “That desert’s a graveyard for armies. And from Mureba, it’s still how many days in the furnace?”

  “Thirty or so, if we’re lucky,” Daigo said. “And once we reach Koshita Beron—where rumor says no sorcery works—only raw skill might save us. So says the text.”

  Fire flared in Jūsō’s eyes. “That’s enough. We’ll do it. We cannot abandon Lord Kinryu to the King of Majokawa.”

  Meyurin, braiding a stray lock of hair, spoke quietly. “Meanwhile, Lehuitsu in Majokawa has a fleet of forty warships. We can’t bring everything to Imaraku and leave Onikawa open to invasion.”

  Daisetsu nodded. “We’ve got, what, thirteen ships afloat, plus maybe half a dozen finishing soon? It’s not enough. We can’t hold both the coastline and your desert expedition if you take more than half our navy.”

  “It’s a risk,” Daigo admitted, “but time isn’t our ally.”

  Tatsuo, arms folded, scowled. “We can manage a partial defense, but it’s thin. If Majokawa hits us, we might hold them at sea for a time, but not forever.”

  Daigo shut the treatise. “We sail in a month. We’ll gather a strong enough force to handle Imaraku’s nightmares. The rest of Onikawa’s ships and swords stay behind to defend home.”

  Homura scraped his blade along its scabbard, restless. “Then we push full tilt. If that means half our new keels remain half-built, so be it. We can’t keep dancing.”

  Jūsō’s tone was grim but resolute. “We muster, we sail for the Gulf of Mureba. Once landed, we cross Imaraku, climb the peaks, and see what Koshita Beron holds. Everyone who remains at home—Daisetsu, Tatsuo, Zeki—prepare for Majokawa’s worst. We refuse to leave Kinryu in chains.”

  Meyurin lifted her gaze. “No more waiting. No more fear. Let them say what they will: Onikawa stands for its own.”

  Daigo exhaled slowly. “Like it or not, the dice are cast.”

  List of Dramatis Personae in Chapter

  Lord Jūsō, Level 56 Oni Warlord, is a central figure in Onikawa’s quest to free Lord Kinryu. He wields “ Sky-Piercing Blade,” a prized blade renowned for its balance and cutting edge, said to vibrate in warning when powerful sorcery is near. His signature ability, “Skybound Flurry,” channels the wind around him for swift aerial strikes. Known for his unshakable loyalty and his vision-like dream of Koshita Beron, he inspires the other Oni to risk everything for their cause.

  Lord Daigo, Level 54 Sword Dancer, stands as Jūsō’s companion and a close friend. He carries a rapier named “Moonsorrow,” forged with an alloy believed to be touched by lunar essence. Daigo’s signature technique, “Lunar Reposte,” allows him to counter incoming attacks with a dazzling pivot that momentarily disorients foes. He keeps a goatskin-bound treatise containing Gurou’s writings on Imaraku, a book that offers precious guidance for their upcoming journey. Daigo is known equally for his quick wit and his thirst for luxurious living.

  Lord Homura, Level 53 Flame Champion, serves as a fierce tactician overseeing shipwrights and forges in Mihara Bay. His favored weapon is a broad saber that crackles with flame when he triggers “Inferno Edge,” a devastating skill that briefly bathes the blade in supernatural fire. Though hot-blooded, Homura places Onikawa’s survival above all and backs Jūsō’s decisions despite his own concerns for the kingdom’s thin defenses.

  Lord Kinryu, Level 58, though unseen in this chapter, remains a driving force for all their actions. He is rumored to be held captive by King Goritsu XII of Majokawa. His high level and skill mastery make him the mightiest among Onikawa’s champions. News of his captivity spurs the others to embark on the perilous quest to Koshita Beron.

  Lord Daisetsu, Level 46, is the defensive cornerstone of Onikawa’s coastal forces. He favors a trident with coral inlay, augmented by “Tidebreaker,” a skill that manipulates currents to stall enemy ships. Daisetsu’s strategic mind balances caution with duty; he remains behind, managing the newly built fleet and preparing Onikawa for any assault that might come from Majokawa.

  Lord Tatsuo, Level 46, serves as a guardian of the inland territories. He wields twin blades made from rare blackwood and commands the skill “Spirit Thorn,” an energy burst that can immobilize opponents briefly. Protective of Onikawa’s verdant interior, he questions the risks of sending the best warriors abroad, yet he pledges to hold the line at home.

  Lord Zeki, Level 39 is introduced upon their ride through the forests. He bears a longbow fashioned from the horns of a Kirindrake. With his skill “Storm of Arrows,” he can rain projectiles in a wide arc, providing covering fire in large-scale engagements. Though tardy to the meeting, he aligns himself firmly behind Jūsō, Daigo, and Homura in their plan to brave Imaraku.

  Lady Meyurin, sister to Daigo, remains the dignified lady of Kurotorine. She holds no formal combat class but has honed a commanding presence, her counsel valued by the Oni lords. She is a keeper of Kurotorine’s deep knowledge, ever ready to advise on strategy or morale. Her composed voice often tempers the heated arguments among the warlike lords, and she demonstrates both fierce loyalty and a quiet resolve that matches their quest.

  Haruto Watanabe appears as a silent observer, having crossed into this realm of Suisei under mysterious circumstances. His exact class and level are unknown, yet he watches with keen interest, absorbing every detail of Onikawa’s conflict.

  Katsuragi, absent from the events but referenced, is a scholar-warrior from Yōkawa who once gifted Daigo the goatskin-bound treatise written by Gurou. Credited with unearthing hidden knowledge about Imaraku’s deserts, Katsuragi’s scholarship remains a crucial piece of the Oni’s survival guide—though how he gained this lore, and why he entrusted it to Daigo, remains a story yet to be told.