After the ceremony at the ancestral altar, the atmosphere in Oda's house was not entirely calm. In a small sitting room on the northern side of the main house, several elders gathered. The air was filled with the thin aroma of pipe smoke and sake, and whispers about the future of Yamato, the threat of war, and of course, the presence of Fitran—a foreign man who had now become a son-in-law but was seen by many as a potential danger.

  Fitran, with his usual cool demeanor, chose to arrive "accidentally" just as the elders began discussing him.

  He knocked softly on the door and bowed politely. "I apologize for the interruption, esteemed elders. The night is too long to sleep alone."

  For a moment, the room fell silent. Suspicious glances were cast in his direction, but one of the oldest elders, Oda Senzaburo, patted his seat, "Come in, Fate-dono. Sit and join us in savoring the bitterness of sake and age."

  Fitran smiled, took a cup, and sat at the edge. "I appreciate this invitation, Senzaburo-sama. However, I fear my presence here may only add to the burden."

  Oda Hisayuki, a stout elder with a hoarse voice, immediately attacked, "Westerners do not understand the value of ancestral oaths. In our land, words are not just sounds; they are the souls that bind. How could a foreigner like you comprehend this?"

  Fitran bowed respectfully. "I agree, Hisayuki-sama. However, before judging me, allow me to ask: What makes these ancestral messages so powerful among us? Is there not a wonder behind the strength of those words?"

  Oda Senzaburo raised an eyebrow, "Wonder? Hmph. What we have is a legacy. What will you offer to change this perception?"

  Fitran smiled faintly, "I do not wish to bring change, Senzaburo-sama. The world will force Yamato to change, and I only want to ensure that this change does not lead us to emptiness."

  "Is that what you learned from the nine turns of the Spiral?" Hisayuki asked sarcastically, "Or just hidden hopes among beautiful words?"

  Fitran looked confidently, "Words and hopes are seeds. Like the Spiral that binds magical power, hope intertwines with uncertainty. Only through our dialogue can we reap the results of those seeds."

  Oda Senzaburo frowned, whispering to the others, "Did you hear that, elders? He speaks of dialogue like a dancer on the edge of a cliff."

  Fitran nodded, "Yet that cliff is where we find the buried truth. Everything comes at a price."

  Elder Senzaburo observed Fitran for a long time, then asked softly, "What makes you think you can bring change to Yamato?"

  Fitran smiled faintly, his eyes sparkling. "Senzaburo-sama, at a banquet, inspired by the legacy of swords and poison. I do not wish to bring change, but to navigate the currents that will confront us. The world outside is a running machine, and I only want to ensure that this change does not destroy you from within."

  Hisayuki snorted, his eyes full of challenge. "Do you think you know better than the old blood of Yamato? How can you speak as if you understand the vibrations of the spirit woven into our history?"

  Fitran raised his cup, gazing at the trembling surface of the sake. "I believe the old blood of Yamato is sharper than a sword, Hisayuki-sama. Yet even a sword can rust if confined within its sheath. And out there, poison and magic await. Would it not be better for you to know what your enemies think? Directly from the source, so as not to be trapped in an illusion?"

  Several elders exchanged glances, hesitating in their stance. Senzaburo said, "You speak well, young man. But who guarantees that you do not bring disaster? What assurance do we have that your intentions are not mere deception?"

  Fitran looked straight at Senzaburo, his voice calm yet firm. "No one can guarantee, not even the ancestors at the altar, who sometimes err in guiding their children. However, one thing is certain: the true enemy of Yamato is not always one that comes from outside. Sometimes they sit in this room, wearing the faces of family. Do you not feel it, Senzaburo-sama?"

  His words cast a heavy silence among them. A few elders glanced nervously at Masanori—Nobuzan's uncle—who had remained silent from the start, seemingly waiting for the right moment to speak. Masanori smiled faintly, but his hand gripped the spiral technology pipe tighter. "Fitran, caution is a virtue. However, not all change is welcomed. What you propose could be a hidden curse."

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  Fitran nodded, reminding them, "Like magic hidden in shadows. We need light to separate magic from darkness. Uncle Masanori, should we allow this uncertainty to linger? Would it not be better if we became the architects of change, rather than merely waiting?"

  Masanori furrowed his brow, his expression serious. "Many things have already been straightened out by forces greater than us. We can set our steps, Fitran-kun, but not every step will lead us back to safe roots."

  The tension in the room grew, the elders exchanging glances as if weighing their fate. Fitran spoke again, "I only wish to be accepted enough, as family. Nothing more, nothing less. And if someday I must choose between Yamato and outside intentions, I will choose family."

  "Where do you truly stand?" Senzaburo asked, "Will you remain loyal when the storm hits, or will you go against us?"

  Fitran, firmly yet gently, replied, "Loyalty should not be bought with false peace. I choose to stand witness to every flow, every shift—because I believe change is a necessity, and I am ready to embrace it, no matter how painful it may be."

  Fitran silently noted in his mind who appeared anxious and who dared to challenge. "We know that in politics, a neutral face is an illusion," he said while looking at the elders. "I only wish to be accepted enough, as family. Nothing more, nothing less." He weighed again, "And if someday I must choose between Yamato and the evil intentions of anyone, then I will ensure Yamato stands, even if I must bleed for it. Does that not worry you all?"

  Elder Hisayuki finally chuckled softly, his voice heavy and powerful. "Cunning, young man," he said. "But perhaps, Yamato does need a fox among the pack of old dogs. We have been too long confined in tradition."

  Fitran bowed politely, the tension in the room seeping in. "As long as the fox does not bite the hand of its master, I think Yamato will be just fine. Have we not seen many foxes ensnared by their own desires?"

  "Wise for your age," another elder replied, crossing his arms. "However, remember, there is strength in the weakness we show. Strategy is not just about attack, but also how we protect ourselves with invisible nets."

  "And the spiral technology we speak of?" Fitran asked, directing his gaze. "Could it be our net of revival? Or will it trap us in chaos?"

  Senzaburo, the wisest among them, leaned forward. "Sometimes, the key to survival is not the strength to attack, but knowing when to pretend to be weak. Remember that, Fate-dono. In Yamato, enemies and friends can swap masks in one night. We must be prepared for all possibilities, mustn't we?"

  Fitran whispered back, softly yet firmly, "And sometimes, the best mask is one's own face. But what happens if that face conceals deeper secrets?" He hinted at the elders, reminding them of the hidden dangers within their own family.

  "We must keep talking," Elder Hisayuki said, breaking the silence. "Let us not get trapped in a larger game. This is not just about us, but the future of Yamato. Is it not so, Fitran?"

  "Certainly," Fitran replied, his gaze sweeping the room. "I am here not just to listen; I want to contribute. We need to understand our enemies well while strengthening the alliances among us."

  After that night’s meeting, some elders began to divide. "That Fitran, hmm... where does he actually come from?" asked an elder with a hoarse voice, observing Fitran's movements at the edge of the room. "Some see him as a new ally against Masanori's influence, but I am suspicious. Why did he come here?" said another with a hesitant tone. "We must be cautious. Loyalty that seems sincere can turn into a dagger in the dark," an old elder expressed with a tone full of wisdom.

  Masanori stood in the corner of the room, his face tense. "We cannot let him continue to play with fire," he said firmly. He looked deeper into the eyes of the other elders. "He possesses cunning, that is clear. If we do not take action, he will breach our defenses. My support is not just to strengthen our position; I believe he has valuable information." His deep and pleasant voice emphasized the discomfort he felt. "The spiral science recently also shows potential in its influence," he added, as if reminding them of Fitran's cleverness.

  Fitran sensed the tension in the air. He approached the wisest elder, "Is there anything that needs to be agreed upon, sir?" he asked in a gentle yet firm tone. "Perhaps there is something we can capture from this chaos. We can leverage trading information on spiral technology to strengthen our position." The expression on his face showed that he knew more than he revealed. "Or we could divert attention temporarily, breaking Masanori's focus. Uncertainty is a loyal companion."

  The people of Yamato slowly began to hear the news, "Have you heard about that 'Western son-in-law'? He speaks well and seems to bring new strategies—turning bad rumors into intriguing issues," whispered a young cooperator with bright eyes. "Maybe we should look deeper. He did not come without purpose," replied another with a worried expression. "We could be part of something bigger if we unite," he continued, maintaining the spirit amid the darkness that awaited.

  As Fitran left the elders' sitting room that night, he knew one thing: it was not necessary to win everyone's heart to conquer a nation. Just break the enemy, choose temporary allies, and let the greatest enemies think they still controlled the situation. "Ah, an unexpected strategy is like magic—better to lure them into this game," he whispered to himself with a satisfied smile. He walked toward the dark corridor, the night wind carrying the aroma of sake and incense, and at the end of the corridor, only his own shadow smiled back.