The atmosphere within the entrance hall of the Nakiri residence was thick enough to stifle a normal human.
Nakiri Nakagami-no-Ouryuu stood as a pillar of concentrated authority. He was the youngest head in the history of the Nakiri clan and whispered to be the strongest warrior they had produced in generations.
He radiated a peculiar kind of pressure oof a mixture of modern military discipline and ancient spirit-touched power.
Azazel being the diplomat he is stepped forward. He didn't seem bothered by the heavy aura. Instead, he wore a casual, slightly tired smile that suggested he had seen far more intimidating things in his several millennia of existence.
"Nice to meet you, Ouryuu-dono," Azazel said, extending a hand. "I've heard much about the outstanding talent by which you succeeded the Nakiri family at such a young age. I've been looking forward to this meeting, though perhaps under less litigious circumstances."
Ouryuu took the hand. The grip was firm, a silent test of will. "It is I who should say so, Governor General. It is the greatest honor to be able to meet the Governor of Grigori. Your reputation for... unconventionality precedes you."
Ouryuu's eyes shifted then, moving past Azazel to scan the three Longinus wielders standing behind him. He lingered on Tobio with a look of professional scrutiny, acknowledged Lavinia with a nod of respect, and finally stopped at Jay.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the fourteen-year-old's relaxed posture and patek on his wrist. Wearing only a zip up black hoodie and a baggy jeans in such official meeting is a slight disrespect in his eyes, but Ouryuu decided to let it go.
"I am sorry," Ouryuu said, his voice regaining its stiff formality. "But the Elders are waiting. Let us hurry."
Under the guidance of Ouryuu, Suzaku, and the rest of the Sacred Beast bearers, the group set foot deeper into the residence.
The walk lasted for nearly ten minutes. The interior of the residence was a labyrinth of polished dark wood, sliding paper doors, and long, silent passages.
Every few dozen meters, the air would ripple with the presence of another hidden barrier. It was an excessively spacious layout, designed to disorient and intimidate. By the time they reached their destination, most of the teens felt as though they had walked into another dimension entirely.
Finally, Ouryuu led them through a set of ornate fusuma doors. They stepped into a banquet hall that was staggering in its proportions. It was over a hundred tatami mats in size, a sea of pristine straw flooring illuminated by soft, recessed lighting.
At the far end of the room, there was an elevated section, a raised floor that stood about half a meter higher than the rest of the hall. A thick, semi-transparent bamboo curtain hung from the ceiling, shielding the figures on the upper level from view.
Ouryuu, Suzaku, and the other heirs moved to their designated spots. They knelt on small, rectangular carpets woven with their respective clan crests.
These were not the common zabuton cushions used by commoners, they were symbols of high social standing and ancient lineage.
With practiced grace, the heirs bowed their heads until they nearly touched the floor. Even the aggressive Shinra Byakko, who had spent the morning looking like he wanted to bite someone, sat in respectful silence.
Ouryuu spoke, his voice carrying clearly through the vast space.
"We have accompanied the Governor of Grigori, as well as the three Longinus wielders, including one of our own blood, Ikuse Tobio."
A moment of silence followed. Then, a voice drifted from behind the curtain. It wasn't the voice of one person, but a discordant harmony of several elderly speakers.
"Good, good. Your efforts have been much appreciated, Ouryuu, and all of the Four Divine Beasts. You have served the sanctity of our borders well."
The voice then turned toward the guests. "Governor Azazel and everyone else as well, please be seated."
Tobio, Natsume, Samejima, and even Lavinia moved to find their places. They sat in the traditional seiza position, a posture of formal respect and discipline.
Even Azazel, despite his internal sigh, began to lower himself to the floor.
Then there was Jay.
Jay remained standing. He stood in the middle of the hall with his hands shoved casually into his baggy jeans pockets. He looked around the room as if he were inspecting a museum exhibit rather than participating in a divine tribunal.
"Illya-kun?" Lavinia whispered, looking up at him with concern.
"The Scorch Magician," Ouryuu's voice came out low and dangerous. "Is there something wrong? Do you find our customs beneath you?"
The heirs and the invisible Elders focused their collective attention on the boy. The pressure in the room spiked, a physical weight intended to crush his defiance. Azazel simply facepalmed, closing his eyes in resignation.
He knew Jay was many things, but "compliant" was never one of them.
Jay didn't look at Ouryuu. He didn't even look at the heirs. He kept his eyes on the curtain.
"Let's cut the bullshit," Jay said. His voice was flat, cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a cold blade. "Azazel, have you sent my message?"
Azazel looked up with a defeated smile. "I did. Though I suspect they didn't take it as the helpful suggestion you intended it to be."
"Then let's begin the trials," Jay said.
As the word "trials" left his lips, a sudden, localized burst of intense purple heat erupted from the center of the room.
It wasn't a massive explosion, but a surgical strike of mana. The bamboo curtain at the far end of the hall was instantly reduced to fine gray dust.
The figurative holy barrier concealing the Elders reduced to dust in an instant. The four Heads of the Clans were revealed, old men and women dressed in elaborate robes, their faces frozen in expressions of absolute shock and mounting fury.
Jay hadn't just spoken but he had committed a blatant act of hostility.
"You!" One of the elders roared, standing up in a blur of motion. His aura flared, swirling around his fists. "You dare commit such sacrilege in the Inner Sanctuary?"
Jay didn't waver. He didn't even take his hands out of his pockets.
"The Scorch Magician," Ouryuu opened his mouth, his voice trembling with restrained rage. "We will not tolerate any more disrespect toward our elders. If you will not be seated, I will have to force you into a position of humility."
Jay ignored him and as his eyes scanning the elders.
"You're wasting my time. I didn't come here to play 'pretend'. Let's be straightforward. What are the Five Principal Clans actually aiming for with this trial?"
One of the Elders, a man with a face like withered parchment, regained his voice. He slammed his hand onto the raised floor. "What do we aim for? We aim for justice! Your actions and reckless battle against the Ice Princess, and the actions of the Grigori have endangered the livelihood of Japanese civilans! You brought the flames of a foreign conflict into our sacred grounds!"
"Endangered?" Jay repeated the word with a sarcastic tilt to his head. "Ah. Are you talking about the fact that one of your own, Hanezu Himejima, was conspiring with the Wizard of Oz and a traitor of the Grigori? Are you referring to the human experiments that killed dozens of people right under your noses? Is that the 'endangerment' you're so concerned about?"
"Insolent brat!" another Elder shouted, rising to her feet. "Hanezu Himejima had been cast out! His action fall outside of our jurisdiction!"
Some of the elders shouted at Jay and began preparing to attack him. But both Jay and Azazel knew that those old men could not actually do anything. Azazel was not worried about Jay being attacked. Instead, he was worried that the boy standing before him might actually kill them.
Azazel was someone who could judge people fairly easily, and one thing had become clear to him about Jay. This young man lived by a set of twisted morals. One principle always stood out. Jay despised authority that preyed upon the weak.
That was why he killed Satanael.
"And yet he operated within your borders for years," Jay countered. "So tell me... if his actions were not under your jurisdiction, then what gives you the right to judge me for cleaning up your mess? Where were the 'Great Clans' when the Utsusemis were kidnapping children in broad daylight? Where was your so-called 'divine duty' when those children were being experimented on in the mountains inside your country?"
The room fell into a stunned silence. The truth was a jagged thing, and Jay was driving it into the heart of their pride.
"The reason those activities even stopped," Jay continued, his voice growing colder, "is because of the brave actions of these kids you're now trying to intimidate." Jay said pointing at Tobio and his friends, and then he pointed at Azazel and Lavinia.
"It's because of the Grigori and Grauzauberer. You sat in your mountain fortress and did nothing while your own blood turned into monsters." He continued.
He turned his gaze slowly across the Four Divine Beasts, then back to the Elders.
"Inefficient. Useless. Old-fashioned. That is what you are. Resign from your position in shame for the incompetence and the breaking of the oaths you swore. You claim to protect the lives of humans from supernatural threats, yet you only show up when there's a Longinus to be claimed or a reputation to be salvaged."
The sentence felt like a final judgment. The veins on the Elders' foreheads were bulging, their faces turning a deep, humiliated red.
"Enough!" Ouryuu shouted.
He didn't wait for a command. He lunged forward, his speed surpassing the perception of the human eye.
He reached for Jay's neck, his hand wreathed in the crushing pressure of the earth element. He intended to pin the boy to the tatami mats and force him to understand the weight of the Nakiri name.
But as Ouryuu's hand closed, it met no resistance. His fingers passed through Jay's throat as if he were reaching through a holographic projection. Ouryuu stumbled forward, his momentum carrying him past the spot where Jay stood.
Jay remained exactly where he was, his body shimmering with a faint, spatial distortion of Phantasmagoria. He had made himself intangible. Everyone stunned from the sudden actions that they are stopped moving.
The silence that followed was broken not by an elder, but by a sudden, booming laughter that echoed from the shadows behind the elevated floor. It was a deep, resonant sound that made the very air in the hall vibrate.
"KUHAHAHA! You are one interesting brat, indeed!"
A figure emerged from the darkness behind the four Elders. He was a tall, rugged man with wind-tossed dark hair and eyes that flickered with the intensity of a living storm. He wore a heavy, storm-patterned haori over dark combat attire, with ancient talismans bound at his wrists. His presence was overwhelming, carrying the restrained fury of a localized hurricane.
The moment he appeared, the atmosphere in the room changed. The pressure from the Nakiri Elders felt like a gentle breeze compared to the sheer power radiating from this man.
Ouryuu immediately dropped to one knee, his head bowed. The other heirs and the Elders followed suit, their arrogance replaced by a terrifying level of devotion.
"Susanoo-no-Mikoto," Azazel whispered, his eyes narrowing as he stood up. He had suspected an external influence, but he hadn't expected a Major God to descend into the mortal realm for a mere trial.
Tobio, Natsume, and the others looked on in shock. This was the God of Thunders and the Sea, the legendary hero-god of Shintoism himself.
"KUHAHAHA! I should also say the same to you, Azazel," Susanoo said, stepping forward until he stood at the edge of the raised floor. He ignored the kneeling elders as if they were furniture. "It's been a few centuries since we last shared a drink. You're looking as tired as ever."
"What could be so important that you would bother coming down from Takamagahara?" Azazel asked. "The Five Principal Clans are usually beneath the direct notice of the gods."
Susanoo grinned, a predatory expression that suggested he found the entire situation hilarious. He raised a finger and pointed directly at Tobio Ikuse.
"Oh, it's nothing complicated, Governor." Susanoo said. His voice dropped an octave, becoming heavy with divine intent. "I just came to get what is rightfully mine. The sword that inside the Dog... the Ame-no-Ohabari."
He looked at Tobio then at Jay, his lightning-bright eyes sparkling with a mix of greed and anticipation.
"The weapon of a god should not be wielded by a child of a banished line. I've come to reclaim the blade, and if anyone has an objection..." He let out another short, barking laugh. "Well, I haven't had a good fight in a long, long time."