"Thank you for coming." A Shinshoku bowed low, dressed in tradition wear and carrying a near arsenal worth of paper charms. Appearing to be the most senior member of similarly dressed priests, each just as heavily decked out for war as he was. Behind them, creatures speckled in glimmering light and slightly translucent, stood on guard. Their attention focused solely into the distance. "Would you like to take some time to rest? We would be more than happy to accommodate you if the journey was rough."
"No need." Ikuse wasn't fooled in the slightest from their deferential tone, as a vast majority were from the Himejima Clan, he could distinctly remember their disdain to his existence as a bastard. Could easily remember some of them being apart of the faction that fought Suzaku so fervently when she wanted to bring him back into the clan. But now, that they both knew of his strength and needed it, they now decided to act civil? Yeah no, he would rather cut down any necessities these duplicitous people wanted to shove down his throat. Besides, the trip hadn't taken too long. Just a train to the nearest largest city and a personal driver to take care of the rest. "Just tell me what you need me to do."
"Very well." The leader of this little expedition nodded simply, blank face putting on a faux smile. But his followers silent scoffs and affronted looks was enough to figure out their general disposition. They clearly hated being forced to rely on an 'outsider' when they're own strength had been found wanting, even more so when they needed to bow and scrape to someone they'd turned their backs on. Shattered pride and grinding teeth, what an excellent tune to hear. "If you would follow me, I will lead you to our battle plans."
With that, the older man flicked his sleeves and led the mercenary deeper into their camp. Passing a multitude of tents and abandoned buildings, of which showed clear signs of nature creeping it's influence back into place. Support members stood or crouched huddled in tightly knit groups, most going over and further refining their Shikigami for the operation to come. Honestly, it looked like they were preparing to fight an entire country. A skirmish, first contact with the enemy.
Tensions were high, nerves fragile and only single spark was all that was needed to ignite. Despite the singular goal everyone had, it was clear the Clans were still in a bit of a competition with each other. Each probably sharpening their knives to carve out as many opportunities as possible to further their own rank in the eyes of their elders and Kamis.
He even took note of a new rather ambitious members begin to eye him like he was competition but it looked like that was what the contingent of higher ranking priests surround him and the leader was for.
Ignoring them, the young man just looked forward and continued walking until they all came across a rather luxurious appearing tent. Kanji empowered by divinity, pulsed a cold blue light. Strangely enough, this light didn't create a single shadow in it's wake. Pulling open the flaps, the old man waved him inside.
Stepping in, the low chatter of the war camp vanished just as the flap closed behind him. Looking around, the interior wasn't all that grand. Possessing only a single table with a very detailed map littered in pins and marks, all arrows pointing towards a heavily circled area around a singular house.
The old priest didn't start speaking immediately and only touched the foundational post in the middle, which cause invisible kanji to pulse to life. Shifting in and out of reality before they faded from existence all together.
'An Isolation Array.'A cold voice barked from within his head, a canine head melting out of the shadows in the far tent corners. Crimson orbs looking at the post with some levels of curiosity, before they turned to him fully. 'Your little mage won't be able to listen in.'
"Please excuse our brusqueness, allow me to introduce myself." The Shinshoku bowed more deeply, exposing his balding scalp to him unnecessarily. Covered in liver spots as it was. "I am an Elder of The Himejima Clan...I gave up my surname early on in my youth, so you may call me Uncle if you must. I am sure you have plenty of questions and I am here to answer them, do not feel the need to hold anything back, this array will make it so that nothing said here will ever enter the outside world. I know that might be of some alarm...but given the foe we face, every percussion must be taken. Even if it means using up on our ancient treasures."
"What is it you aren't telling me?" Ikuse could get it, this Yamato Iori seemed like an extremely powerful individual but he didn't think it remedied such a drastic response. There had to be more to it. "All of this seems like overkill."
"…" Uncle was quiet, clear apprehension on his face. Before he carefully answered. "First, I do not want you to believe that our young miss purposefully tricked you. This information has been held by only a few and the most senior members of all Five Clans. But it would not be right if we just sent you in there without properly informing you."
Various of scenarios flicked through his head. Each more ludicrous as the last. Could this threat be somehow connected to Azazel and his experiments? Or was this person not a person at all and was instead some construct gone wild? Or did he possess some weapon that made even the Kamis so hesitant to act? Like a Longinus?
Did...did they just send him to fight a Longinus holder?
"Young Suzaku wasn't fully informed on the gravity of the situation." The old man breathed in heavily. "What I'm about to tell must never leave this tent, ever. It is a secret from on high that can never be allowed to see the light of day. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand."
He could always hear it out, nothing they said could ever be as bad was whatever was running around in his hea-
"When she told you that the vessel of Tsukuyomi-sama was forced to flee during their first contact, that's not the whole story. The vessel was a Gūji of a minor shrine under the control of the Shinra Clan and these are words from her own disciple...Yamato Iori didn't just cause the vessel to flee. Didn't just cause Tsukukyomi-sama to burn through her body...He destroyed the vessel and somehow, directly damaged his Divinity. This was told to us by one of the many Tenko Kitsune under the Kami's command."
"…." That in itself was hard to believe, hard to swallow and even more so to actually comprehend exactly what this Uncle was saying. Ikuse had personally fought this generation of Yellow Dragon, Ryuuta Nakiri, and it was like he was a living god on planet Earth. A servant of the Kamis. And while vessels weren't on that same level of power, they were still a direct link to Tsukuyomi's will. To not only destroy a possessed vessel but also damage his Divinity as well?! "He's a Longinus holder? Which one? It can't be Divine Dividing nor Absolute Demise...So the Boosted Gear?"
'Not that old Welsh.' Jin shook it's massive head back and forth. 'Dragon's scent is too strong not to smell a city away.'
"…." The man looked pained, almost wishing that was the case but his next words did anything but clear things up. "From what we know, Yamato Iori has never had a Sacred Gear of any sort. As you know the history of Ancient Senjutsu Practitioners have been scrubbed from existence by the decree of all powers in this world. Senjutsu you see now are a more butchered and kneecapped versions. I am sure the young miss has told you that much already...but there's a reason it was bared. And not just because it's abomination on life itself, allowing humans to live hundred upon hundreds of years nor even because of the massive amount of Forbidden and Dark Arts that sprouted out from it. Humans aren't like the other supernatural races, our birthrates are monstrous in comparison to every other creature out there. We outnumber them all easily. Hence, why our lifespans are limited. The Heavens balances us all. Can you imagine semi-immortals that can pop out a child once a year? Who can then also teach them to do the same?"
No matter how flowery he tried to spin it, Ikuse could get why the Factions had banded together eradicate the art. Fear, for the first time in their long lives those old creatures feared the idea of being forced off this planet by an entire species of immortal humans numbering well into the billions.
"That was the 'official' argument they used to justify it but I would be remiss to not at least tell you the actual 'unofficial' reason. When the most talented, dedicated and...hungriest of Ancient Senjutsu Practitioners reached a certain level, they became akin to walking, living Longinus."