The declaration from Susanoo no Mikoto hung in the air like a localized storm front, heavy and suffocating. The blunt demand for its return sent a wave of cold dread through the group. And now everyone understand what Suzaku said a couple days earlier.
Azazel was the first to break the silence. His casual demeanor had sharpened into something far more dangerous, his eyes narrowed as he assessed the God of Storms.
"Susanoo-dono, you know that is not possible," Azazel said, his voice dropping an octave. "You are a god of this land. You know better than anyone that stripping a Sacred Gear from its host results in the immediate death of that host. You aren't just asking for a sword, you are asking for the boy's life."
Susanoo let out a dry, rasping chuckle that sounded like stones grinding together in a riverbed. He didn't look bothered in the slightest.
"I mean, if you can give the sword to me without needing to kill that brat, that would also be appreciated," Susanoo replied, his eyes flickering with a predatory amusement. "But I assume that even with all your tinkering in Grigori, you haven't found a way to bypass the soul-bind of the God of the Bible. It is a messy business, I admit. But divine property is divine property, and it was, is, and will always be rightfully mine."
Tobio Ikuse instinctively pulled back, his arms wrapping around the flickering shadow form of Jin. The black dog let out a low, mournful growl, sensing the divine malice directed toward its core. Tobio's knuckles were white, his breath coming in shallow hitches.
"Anyway," Susanoo continued, waving a hand dismissively as he turned his gaze to Azazel, "since when did you care about these humans, Azazel? I thought you only had a soft spot for their women."
Azazel didn't flinch. He adjusted his stance, shielding the teenagers behind him. "Let's just say that I am a changed man. You know how a good woman can change your perspective on things."
"Kuhahaha! A fucking scary woman, for sure, can change a man," Susanoo barked, his laughter booming through the hall. Azazel knew exactly who he was talking about.
For a fleeting second, the tension seemed to bleed out of the room. It was the kind of banter shared between ancient powers who had seen civilizations rise and fall. But the relief was an illusion. In the world of the supernatural, the transition from a joke to an execution was swifter than a heartbeat.
Suddenly, the air pressure in the meeting hall spiked. It wasn't just physical weight, it was a spiritual crushing force that felt like the atmosphere itself had turned to lead.
The members of the Five Principal Clans, already bowed, were forced even lower until their foreheads pressed painfully against the tatami mats. Tobio, Natsume, Samejima, and Sae were slammed to their knees, their lungs struggling to expand against the divine gravity.
Lavinia stood her ground, her face pale and teeth clenched, her magical circuits screaming as they fought the suppression. Azazel remained upright, his twelve black wings shivering but held firm.
And then there was Jay.
He stood behind Azazel, his hands still tucked into the pockets of his black hoodie. His expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on the God of Storms with a clinical interest.
'At least Ultimate Class,' Jay thought to himself. He could feel the raw, chaotic energy vibrating off Susanoo, a fundamental force of nature that cared nothing for human logic. It is said that gods are born either from human belief or from natural laws, at least that is what Merlin believed.
Susanoo's eyes drifted over the survivors of his pressure, lingering on Jay with a look of genuine intrigue. A slow, sharp grin spread across the god's rugged face.
"As I thought," Susanoo said, his voice booming. "It is impressive how those Longinus can change the lives of these insects. A weapon of stolen divinity granted to human by a divinity to kill a divinity. It is almost poetic."
The pressure relented slightly, allowing the children to gasp for air, though the atmosphere remained electric. Susanoo stepped off the raised floor, his straw sandals clicking with a rhythmic finality as he approached Tobio.
"The dog," Susanoo rumbled. "Hand over the Ame-no-Ohabari now, boy. That blade was forged from the very essence of our heavens, tempered in the blood of the Izanagi lineage. It was stolen, carved away by that Pagan God of yours and planted into that... thing."
He pointed a calloused finger at Jin. The shadow dog was flickering wildly now, its form unstable as if it were trying to hide within Tobio's shadow.
"The Black Dog is an abomination. A wretched creature born from a Greek myth, stitched together with Japanese divinity by a god who had no right to our legacy. It is a mongrel Gear, a bastardized fusion of East and West. I will not have a Divine Sword of the Shinto realm rotting inside a shadow-mutt."
Tobio looked up, his eyes wet but burning with a fierce, desperate light. "Stolen? Jin is my friend! He has been with me through everything. He protected me when no one else would. I didn't ask for this sword, but I won't just let you tear him apart."
Susanoo's grin didn't falter, but the light in his eyes turned to ice. "I wasn't asking for permission, human. You are merely a vessel of something that is mine."
In a blur of motion that bypassed the human eye, Susanoo moved. He was a streak of blue lightning, a divine bolt aimed directly at Tobio's heart. Azazel, reacting with the speed of an ancient warrior launched himself forward, but even he was a fraction of a second too slow to bridge the gap.
However, Susanoo didn't reach the boy.
A jagged tear in the fabric of space manifested inches from Susanoo's outstretched hand. It appeared like a vertical scar in the air, a void that consumed light, sound, and matter alike.
The God of Storms felt the terrifying suction of the spatial rift and twisted his body mid-air, his sandals skidding across the tatami as he retreated several meters back.
The tear hissed, consuming every single air particle in its vicinity into absolute nothingness before it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
The hall was silent. Every eye turned toward Jay, who was calmly walking forward until he stood directly in front of Tobio, shielding him from the god.
Susanoo's face contorted, his voice becoming a low, growling thunder that rattled the windows. "You dare to rebel against a god, boy!"
Jay didn't flinch. He didn't even take his hands out of his pockets. He looked at Susanoo.
"Where was this 'god' when his toys were being stolen by the so-called Pagan Gods?" Jay's voice was flat, devoid of the respect Susanoo demanded.
"Oh, wait. I know the answer. You were too weak to fight against the so called Pagan God when he took what was yours. All you can do now is wait centuries until the power is in the hands of a human so you can try to steal it back."
The silence that followed was deafening. Even Azazel looked slightly panicked at the sheer audacity of Jay's words.
"Brat," Susanoo hissed, the lightning at his wrists beginning to arc uncontrollably. "There is a limit to the words of a human that I can tolerate."
The Shinto God turned his gaze away from Jay, looking instead at the kneeling members of the Five Principal Clans. His voice was no longer a rumble, it was a command that resonated in their very souls, a divine mandate they were biologically unable to refuse.
"Nakiri. Himejima. Kushihashi. Doumon. Shinra," Susanoo barked. "Your guest has proven himself to be a thief and an associate of heretics. The Scorch Magician has already desecrated this hall and insulted your forefather. Why do you remain on your knees? Cleanse this sanctuary. Purge the foreign influence from our mountains. Secure the Black Dog!"
The transformation was chilling.
Ouryuu Nakiri rose first. His face was a battlefield of emotion, a mask of internal conflict that quickly smoothed into a grim hollow determination.
He was the head of the Nakiri, but before that, he was a servant of the heavens. He could not disobey.
Suzaku Himejima stood next. Her red eyes were shimmering with genuine regret as she looked at Tobio, but her hands were already igniting with the scorching red aura of the Vermilion Bird.
"I am sorry, Tobio-kun," Suzaku whispered, her voice trembling. "Against a direct mandate from the Forefather, we have no choice. The clans belong to the gods."
"Tsk. Cowards," Jay whispered, his eyes narrowing. Pointing that at Susanoo.
The air in the room shifted as the other heirs stood, their mana flaring in a rainbow of elemental power. Seiryuu Kushihashi's azure light, the white tiger's claws of the Shinra, and the water of the Doumon.
Azazel stood tall, his twelve black wings unfurling to their full, majestic span, casting a massive shadow over the room. Beside him, Barakiel's holy lightning began to crackle, matching the violent rhythm of the storm brewing outside.
"So that's how it is," Azazel said, his tone no longer playful. "You are using these children as pawns to bypass the treaties between the Grigori and the Shinto faction. If you force them to attack us here you think you can claim it was an internal clan matter. But let us be clear, Susanoo. If you attack us, you are declaring war on the Fallen."
"Then let it be war!" one of the Elders shouted, leaping to his feet and pointing a shaking finger at Jay. "Kill the Scorch Magician! Secure the Black Dog as Susanoo-sama commanded!"
The banquet hall exploded into a kaleidoscope of violence.
The Sacred Beast wielders moved with terrifying coordination, their movements honed.
Ouryuu Nakiri led the charge, his golden aura of the Yellow Dragon smashing into the center of the group like a falling star. Kouki Samejima stepped forward, his own Sacred Gear manifesting to catch Ouryuu's blow. The sheer physical force of the Nakiri head's strike was immense, sending the teenager skidding backward, his feet tearing through the tatami mats until he slammed into a pillar.
Natsume Minagawa lashed out with her Griffon as she engaged the Shinra heir's White Tiger. The White Tiger user moved like a blur of claws and predatory instinct, his strikes aimed at her vitals with a speed that forced the Griffon to use every ounce its power.
"Lavinia, watch the children!" Azazel commanded, his hands glowing as he conjured spears of light to parried a barrage of spirit-sealing talismans.
Lavinia didn't need to be told twice. She unleashed a burst of crystalline ice, her Absolute Demise creating a jagged, frost-covered barrier that separated Sae Toujou and the non-combatants from the initial wave of Shinto priests and soldiers.
"Absolute Demise!" she cried out, her frost creeping across the floor in intricate patterns, freezing the feet of the Kushihashi reinforcements and slowing the flow of mana in the room.
Barakiel and Azazel met the Elders and the senior clan members head-on. Barakiel's Holy Lightning was a jagged, violent contrast to the traditional Shinto charms flying through the air.
He fought with a desperate ferocity even though his eyes constantly darting toward Suzaku. Every time he saw her face, he saw Shuri, and the pain of it fueled his strikes, even as he held back enough to ensure he didn't kill the girl who shared his wife's blood.
In the center of this swirling vortex of fire, ice, and lightning, Jay remained a static point of absolute calm. He stood in front of Tobio, his eyes never leaving Susanoo. The god had not yet joined the general fray.
He was a spectator, watching his mortal subjects die for his whims.
"You will die protecting that boy pointlessly, Scorch Magician," Susanoo said, his voice carrying over the din of battle.
"Is that so?" Jay replied.
A sudden, earth-shaking crackle of thunder erupted, not from within the room, but from the very foundations of the mountain. The sound was so immense that it shook the entire residence, causing everyone to pause for a fraction of a second.
With a casual flick of his wrist, Susanoo unleashed a wave of divine pressure that literally blew the walls of the banquet hall outward. The ornate wood and paper screens were shredded into toothpicks, revealing the dark forest of the Inner Sanctuary surrounding them. The spatial barriers that Jay had noted earlier and the seven seals that protected the inner sanctuary were dismantled in an instant by their own creator. Susanoo was done with the theater of a trial.
He wanted an open battlefield.
A dark blue lightning aura, thick and viscous like liquid engulfed Susanoo's body. He raised a hand toward the sky, and for a moment, the clouds themselves seemed to descend.
"Perish, heretics," Susanoo muttered.
With a violent swing of his arm, a giant pillar of thunder lunged from the heavens. It was a flash of white-blue light so bright it blinded everyone in the clearing, aimed to annihilate the entire group in a single strike. Even the members of the Five Principal Clans were in the blast radius, but Susanoo clearly didn't care for their lives any longer.
"Rupture."
Before the lightning could make contact, a jagged tear in space appeared above the group. It was larger and more violent than the one before, acting like a cosmic drain. The massive thunderbolt was sucked into the rift as its energy deleted from existence before it could touch the ground.
Jay stepped forward. His body began to glow with a faint, ominous purple hue, the light pulsing in time with his heartbeat. The air around him began to warp creating a fatamorgana, not from spatial magic, but from sheer unadulterated heat.
"Incinerate Anthem," Jay muttered.
The forest went silent as the purple flames began to flicker around his feet.