Meanwhile back at the castle.
Mareyaki, Shosai, and Isohi stroll through the extravagant halls, their footsteps echoing against the polished floors as they make their way toward his room. The lavish decor surrounds them, with opulent chandeliers casting a warm glow over the ornate furnishings. Just as they approach the door to his room, his personal maid appears, halting their progress with a respectful yet firm demeanor. Her presence was immediate, and the trio paused, uncertain of what to expect next.
The maid announces, "Great Prince Mareyaki, Queen Mena has requested your presence in her chambers immediately. Don't worry; I will ensure that your guests are properly acclimated in your absence."
Mareyaki quickly turns on his heel and makes his way to his mother's private chambers. Inside, she sits elegantly on the edge of her bed, her legs crossed. As she brushes her hair in front of a mirror, she waits for him, a picture of calm and poise.
As soon as he enters the room and closes the door she calmly places the brush down on the nightstand and gestures for him to come in closer.
Mareyaki hangs his head low focusing his gaze on the floor as he slowly walks toward her. "Mother, I'm—"
"Enough already! You're such a clueless little brat," she snaps, rising to her feet with a swift, fierce determination.
Queen Mena's heels click against the marble floor as she circles her son like a vulture, her eyes sharp and unyielding.
"You embarrassed yourself today," she hisses, voice low but venomous. "You embarrassed me."
Mareyaki clenches his fists, the fire in his chest rising to meet her scorn. "I only asked to prove myself—"
"You should have already proven yourself," she snaps, cutting him off. "Instead, you looked petty. Jealous. Weak."
Her words slice deeper than any blade, but Mareyaki holds firm. "Father approved it. He sees my potential."
She stops before him, grabbing his chin with two fingers and tilting his face up to hers.
"Your father sees what's politically convenient," she says coldly. "That's all he ever sees. He praised those brats because the nobles are watching—and because that bastard Gorran won't stop parading his students around like champions."
Mareyaki's jaw tenses under her grip, but he doesn't pull away.
"You want to be more than a footnote?" she continues, her tone now dripping with icy calculation. "Then crush them. Don't posture. Don't pout. Don't glare at the ones beneath you—eradicate them."
She releases his face with a flick of her fingers, returning to her vanity mirror.
"You've already got Shosai and Isohi. They'll follow your lead. But you'll need more," she added. "Choose them wisely. Strength is obvious. Loyalty is harder to find."
Mareyaki stands tall again, fire back in his eyes. "I already have a few in mind."
"Good," Queen Mena says, examining herself in the mirror. "You'll only get one shot at this. If you fail…"
She doesn't finish the sentence—but the silence that follows is more terrifying than any threat.
Mareyaki turns and exits the room, this time with purpose carved into every step.
Back in Mareyaki's room, Shosai stands by the window, gazing out at the grand courtyard beyond. The sunlight cast intricate shadows across the stones, highlighting the vibrant greenery. Meanwhile, Isohi leans casually against a nearby wall, arms crossed over his chest, a contemplative expression on his face as he observes the scene unfolding outside. The atmosphere in the room is heavy with unspoken words and shared thoughts, each man lost in his own reflections while the world outside seems to bustle with life.
The heavy doors slam open, and Mareyaki angrily strides toward them.
"Took you long enough," Shosai mutters.
"No delays," he says without missing a step. "It's time to build the team. We have to make sure we destroy more demons than they do."
"Who's first?" Isohi asks, a grin already forming.
Mareyaki doesn't even hesitate.
"Kaede. Then Hozo, Hana. We're taking the strongest of the tournament. And we're making them ours."
Shosai turns away from the window. "They're all weaklings every last one of them."
"Then who do you have in mind?" Mareyaki straightens, meeting Shosai's gaze.
"You'll see. Just let me handle the recruiting," Shosai says as he starts walking out of the room with Isohi following closely behind him.
Mareyaki narrows his eyes. "Just don't bring me anyone I can't trust."
Shosai grins. "Trust isn't what wins wars, Mareyaki. Monsters do."
As the door creaks shut behind them, Mareyaki remains still for a moment, his reflection flickering in the polished mirror across the room.
He tightens the sash at his waist.
"Just you wait, Mother," he whispers fiercely to himself, a determined glint in his eyes. "I'll prove my worth to everyone… especially that pathetic loser, Houki."
❧
Later that night back at the inn, while everyone else is sleeping, Houki finds himself unable to close his eyes. Lying on his back, he gazes at the vast expanse of stars twinkling like diamonds scattered across a velvet canvas. The cool breeze whispers secrets of the universe, and in that serene moment, he feels a connection to something much larger than himself.
He exhales slowly, his breath forming a faint mist in the moonlight.
So much noise. So much pressure.
Ever since the awakening, nothing has been simple. Not the ceremony. Not the battles. Not even the praise. Especially not the praise.
He grips the edge of his jacket. "Honorary warrior," he mutters under his breath, the words tasting like ash.
What does that even mean? Recognition from royalty? Or a convenient label to parade before nobles and pretend the system is working?
Houki closes his eyes for a moment, and behind his eyelids, he pictures Mareyaki's smirk, a haunting reminder of their past encounters. As he immerses himself in this moment of reflection, he hears Nyxen's voice echoing in his mind—merciless and devoid of warmth, yet undeniably cold and calculated. The sound sends a shiver down his spine, intertwining his thoughts with a sense of dread and inevitability.
"Crush them."
He opens his eyes again.
"I'm done being a pawn to people who think they rule everything," he whispers. "I show them all… even if I have to destroy the rules of this world."
A faint rustle interrupts the stillness. Shiku drops down beside him, yawning dramatically before resting his arms behind his head.
"You always stare at the sky like it's got answers," Shiku says.
Houki doesn't look at him. "Maybe it does."
Shiku shrugs. "If you ask me, it just looks like a bunch of shiny dots."
A beat of silence. Then, softer, "You okay?"
Houki closes his eyes again, not answering at first.
Then finally: "I will be."
The two lie in silence, the stars above them endless, cold, and ancient.
Shiku suddenly jumps to his feet. "I have an idea to get you out of this brooding mood," he says.
Houki peeks up, opening one eye. "What is that?"
"Let's spar like the old days!"
Houki smirks before getting up to his feet. "Spar? You mean you wanna get your butt kicked again?"
Shiku grins widely. "This won't be like the tournament! I'll win this time."
Houki rolls his shoulders. "I was going easy on you."
"Sure you were. I almost had you, and you know it."
They step into the makeshift training grounds, moonlight spilling across the grass. A hush settles over the grounds. The stars above bear silent witness as the two begin to circle each other—no crowd, no judges, just instinct and rhythm.
Shiku lunges first, a flying flaming kick that Houki narrowly dodges. The sound of their strikes echoes through the quiet, each movement crisp, practiced, and full of unspoken understanding.
The spar is quick. Fierce. Not about winning—but about remembering.
Remembering what they're fighting for.
Who they used to be.
And what they still want to become.
When they finally stop, both are panting slightly. Houki's smile is small, but real.
Shiku slaps his back. "Told you. You needed that."
Houki nods. "Yeah… maybe I did."
They settle back down, side by side, on the cooling night.
The silence that follows isn't heavy this time.
It's peaceful.
As Shiku stretches out on the ground, resting with his arms behind his head, Houki stands nearby, a stark contrast to Shiku's relaxed demeanor. Empowered by a swirling black energy that envelops his hands, Houki gazes deeply into the darkness. He ponders the extent of his abilities, questioning whether the creation of portals is the full range of his power or if there is more yet to be discovered within himself.
He flexes his fingers.
The air stills.
"You felt that too," Nyxen's voice rumbles low within him, like distant thunder. "The urge to unravel him. To silence the arrogance. That is not weakness, Houki. That is clarity."
Houki exhales through his nose, grounding himself. "You're wrong. That's rage."
"Rage is honest. The rest is performance."
Nyxen's voice begins to fade, but before it disappears completely, he leaves one last message."Riding the void isn't just moving through it it's letting it carry you through your path."
Houki looks over to Shiku, who is now humming some tune off-key, oblivious to the weight hanging in Houki's mind.
"How can he be so light, after everything?"
Houki plops down beside him.
"Do you ever think about going back to Zeodia?" he asks, staring at the moon.
Shiku opens one eye. "All the time… but then I think about Kina and remember I'm not ready to go back."
Houki brushes his bangs back as he continues to gaze at the moon. He finally breaks the silence, reflecting on their conversation. "Yeah, I feel the same way," he says. "But we made a promise to destroy the Ravengers."
Shiku rises to his feet, stretching his arms high above his head and letting out a long, satisfying yawn. "You're absolutely right," he says, a spark of determination igniting in his eyes. "We can't forget about Suncross. We have to save it—someday."
Houki falls silent again, letting the idea sink in.
Then, the inn's back door creaks open.
Kasumi steps out rubbing her eyes, hair tied back, wearing a sheer nightgown that shimmers faintly in the moonlight. Her brows raise slightly at the sight of them.
"What are you two doing up so late?" she says as she approaches.
"Blame him," Shiku replies, jerking a thumb at Houki.
"Yeah didn't mean to worry you. Just… lost in my head." Houki chuckles.
Kasumi folds her arms, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "You always have a lot on your mind, Houki. It's exhausting just watching you brood."
Houki laughs under his breath. "Guess I'm predictable."
"Maybe," she replies, sitting beside him in the grass. "But you're not alone. Whatever's weighing on you… We'll carry it together. Like always."
Shiku stands between them both, slapping Houki on the shoulder. "That's right. We're the only dysfunctional family you've got, so get used to us."
Houki exhales slowly, then nods. "Thanks. Really."
They sit together beneath the moonlight—three figures bound by trial, turmoil, and quiet loyalty. No titles. No expectations. Just truth.
Above them, the stars glimmer quietly.
As Kasumi and Houki share a warm embrace, a lingering moment of connection envelopes them. When they finally pull away, Houki's cheeks flush a delicate pink, a sweet smile playing on her lips as they stand side by side, the warmth of their friendship radiating between them.
As they make their way back, Kasumi can't help but chuckle at the thought of their imminent danger. "Let's head back inside before my father kills us before the demons do," she says with a playful laugh. The three of them share a moment of levity, their spirits lifted as they walk back indoors.
As the door clicks shut behind them, the quiet of the inn returns. Outside, the wind carries the scent of distant fire and the faintest echo of a howl—long, mournful, and inhuman. Far beyond the walls of safety, something awakens.
The real trial has only just begun.
❧