Noon.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy, dapping the forest floor in shifting patterns of gold. Kashimo leaned against a tree, his staff cradled in his arms, as he watched Rinzo. She was a few yards away, leaning heavily against a trunk and gasping for air.
"If you keep this pace," he said, his voice casual, "we won't reach the summit before dark."
Rinzo looked up. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, and her face was a deep, heated red. Her chest heaved with every breath, and her hand shook where it gripped the bark for support.
"We've... we've already walked for miles today," she panted. "Can't we just rest for a mont?"
Kashimo didn't answer. He simply watched her.
They had covered twenty miles of mountain trails in half a day. The girl didn't even realize how absurd that was. She was fourteen, possessed no cursed energy, and had never undergone a day of training in her life. Yet, on sheer grit alone, she had kept up with his pace.
And she still hadn't collapsed.
A small smile touched Kashimo's lips. The potential of the Heavenly Restriction was already starting to surface.
"Let's move," he said, shouldering his staff and turning back to the path. "The plan is to reach Edo before the festival begins."
Behind him, he heard the quick, heavy thud of her footsteps and the sound of her trying to stifle her ragged breathing. He kept a steady pace, just fast enough to keep her pushing her limits.
His goal in Edo was simple. Festivals acted as a magnet for people from all walks of life, and that included sorcerers. He needed to improve, and he knew that the only way to do that was through combat.
Of course, that didn't include Arashi Gojo or Zenin Sawara.
Fighting those two was still a gamble. He hadn't yet figured out how to bypass the Limitless, and Mahoraga was a nightmare he wasn't ready to face. If he made a mistake against either of them, the ga would be over before it truly began.
It was better to start with the lesser lights first.
He glanced back. Rinzo was walking with her head down, her face set in a mask of grim determination. She didn't even stop to wipe the sweat from her eyes.
Kashimo looked ahead again, his smile widening slightly. She was tougher than she looked.
"If you hate ," he said, his voice level, "then work on getting stronger."
Rinzo's footsteps faltered for a second. Kashimo didn't look back. He kept walking, the staff swaying slightly with his stride.
"Give everything you have to beco powerful. Chase . Do whatever it takes to stand on the sa level as I do."
He paused.
"That is what I expect from you."
A breeze drifted through the trees, rustling the leaves. Sunlight danced across his white robes in flickering patches of light.
"And I imagine it's what your father expected, too."
The sound of footsteps resud behind him. This ti, they were steadier. Faster. The mountain path continued its winding ascent.
***
The Gojo Estate.
"A festival, then..."
Arashi Gojo sat in his usual place, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair.
The Zenin clan had just announced their seclusion. They wouldn't be showing their faces at an event like that. Sawara was too busy trying to keep his secrets buried to bother with public gatherings.
But others would be there.
Sorcerers from across the provinces, both famous and obscure, would erge for the festival. He needed to see who still had talent, and who could be brought over to the Gojo side.
Arashi knew the state of his family better than anyone.
The New Shadow School was technically an ally, but that was a matter of politics more than anything else. Master Tengen never intervened. And the rest of the minor families had already been cowed by the Zenin's display of force, drifting toward them like iron filings to a magnet.
If he wanted to change the tide, he had to do it himself.
His fingers stopped tapping. He looked up and signaled to an attendant.
"Prepare a carriage."
He paused for a heartbeat.
"We're going to Edo."
***
The Kamo Estate.
The once-grand mansion was now cold and nearly desolate. For years, the family had been in a steady decline, as if they were being hunted by so unseen force. By the ti Kamo Fuji inherited the leadership, the clan was a hollow shell.
Now, the head of the house lay on his deathbed, consud by a curse he couldn't identify.
His body was a map of rot and swelling. His skin had turned a horrific shade of purple-black, and in so places, the white of his bone was visible through the decay. Every breath sounded like a struggle against a throat full of broken glass.
A stranger stood by the bed.
The man had a jagged stitch running across his forehead. He watched the dying master with the sa detached calm one might show toward a common object.
"Lord Fuji," Kenjaku said. "If I may be blunt, your ti is almost up."
Fuji opened his eyes. His pupils were clouded as he turned his gaze toward the stranger. He tried to speak, but only managed to cough up a spray of black blood.
The blood stained the silk bedding, spreading into a dark, ugly blotch. He didn't ask who the man was or why he was there. At this point, it didn't matter.
Fuji used the last of his strength to point toward the door. "Call... call the attendants..."
The candlelight flickered. Kenjaku watched the dying man, a thin smile playing on his lips. He leaned down, lowering his voice until it was a whisper ant only for Fuji's ears.
"Are you really content with this, Lord Fuji?"
Fuji's eyes rolled slightly, a low, garbled sound escaping his throat.
"The Blood Manipulation technique ends with you. The legacy of the Three Great Families is being dragged through the dirt by your hands. Are you really going to lie here and wait for death while they laugh at you?"
Kenjaku's voice was smooth, but every word was like a whisper of the devil.
"What do they say? That the Kamo clan is finished? Doesn't that sting?"
Fuji's fingers twitched. Beneath the rotting skin, his veins began to bulge.
"What... what do you an?"
Kenjaku straightened up and folded his hands behind his back. "I can help you. Not to live, you're already past that, and you know it. But you can make your death count for sothing."
He paused, his eyes fixed on Fuji's face. "Do you know who placed this curse on you?"
Fuji's gaze shifted frantically. "It was... it was..."
"It was Arashi Gojo," Kenjaku finished for him. His tone was as certain as if there was no other possibility. "The Six Eyes fears the potential of your Blood Manipulation. Think about it. Hasn't the Gojo family been stepping on you for years? Haven't they humiliated you at every gathering of the Great Houses?"
Fuji's breathing beca shallow and rapid. "But... I have no proof..."
"Proof?" Kenjaku smiled. "Your death is the only proof anyone will need."
He pulled a scroll from his sleeve and unfurled it. It was a letter, covered in dense script and stamped with the unmistakable seal of the Gojo family. The ink was slightly blurred, but the crest was clear enough to identify.
"This is a secret letter written by Arashi Gojo. It outlines a plan to coordinate with several other families to ensure the Kamo line never recovers. Who do you think leaked it?"
Fuji stared at the docunt, his rotting hand trembling as he reached for it.
Kenjaku pulled it back.
"Call your attendants now. Tell them to send for Zenin Sawara. Tell them you have an urgent ssage to deliver before you pass. Sothing that concerns the survival of the Three Houses."
Kenjaku's voice was as light as a breeze.
"Sawara will co. He's just entered seclusion, and he'll be desperate for information. Tell him that Arashi Gojo cursed you, and that he plans to seize the Kamo lands the mont you're gone. Beg him, in the na of their alliance, to see justice done."
A spark of light flickered in Fuji's eyes. "Will he believe it?"
"He will," Kenjaku said. "Because he needs to."
He didn't say the rest out loud. What did Zenin Sawara need most right now? A distraction. His estate was a ruin, his treasury was gone, and his n were dead. If the news leaked, the Zenin would be the laughingstock of the jujutsu world. But what if a scandal erupted instead? What if Arashi Gojo was exposed for poisoning a fellow clan head and plotting to steal his lands?
The eyes of the world would turn to the Gojo.
The Zenin disaster would be buried under the weight of a new war.
As for whether Sawara would actually strike at Arashi? That was his choice.
Kenjaku looked down, hiding the shadow in his eyes.
Fuji was already struggling to sit up, using every ounce of his remaining life to scream toward the door.
"Soone... soone call the Zenin head! Hurry!"
***
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