The main courtroom of the Oda felt like a fire ready to ignite that afternoon. “Ryumaru,” said one of the elders, her voice trembling. “Are you sure this is the right step?”

  Ryumaru replied firmly, “We cannot turn away from what has happened. Rei must answer.”

  “Answer?” Rei laughed bitterly, “What can I say? Do you want to hear me lie?”

  “Lie or not, just say it!” Ryumaru insisted, her voice shaking the room. “You have betrayed us, Rei. Why?”

  “You know this reason runs deeper than mere betrayal, Oda-sama,” Rei distanced herself with her gaze. “How many more of us will fall in the name of honor?”

  Fitran, standing beside Ryumaru, took a firm stance. “You have forsaken your oath, Rei. Doesn’t that make you feel trapped?”

  “Trapped?” Rei raised an eyebrow, “That’s not the worst that could happen. Just look at us, as if we have no power over our own choices.”

  “So, you’re willing to sacrifice everything? Including your life?” Ryumaru asked, her fingers clenched. “You could choose another path.”

  “And choose what? A life filled with lies?” Rei pointed out, “Do you think the truth will replace the pain?”

  “But we are all hurting, Rei,” Fitran said gently. “Perhaps there is a way to peace if we unite.”

  “Unite?” Rei sneered. “For what? A new lie? A meaningless oath?”

  “You are still one of us. The pain can be healed,” Ryumaru insisted, stepping closer. “Rei, trust us.”

  “Trust? How many times have your oaths meant nothing? History proves it,” Rei pressed, her tone deepening. “And if you cling to this illusion, true destruction will approach.”

  “Then say what you want, and perhaps we can change what is to come,” Ryumaru offered, gazing deeply into Rei’s eyes.

  “Justice knows no family, Ryumaru,” Rei finally replied, her voice trembling, “And if I must betray to prevent destruction, I am willing to be the discarded ghost.”

  Rei slowly lifted her face, her eyes wet but her gaze remained sharp. “Oda-sama, don’t you understand? An oath without justice only adds chains,” she emphasized. “I have seen innocent blood spill in its name.”

  “And what do you think, it would be better if you let all that cruelty continue? Perhaps you want to be part of the chaos?” replied Elder Hisayuki, his voice dripping with cynicism. “Dare you call yourself a ghost?”

  “I would rather be a ghost than a dishonorable traitor,” Rei retorted, slowly turning to Fitran. “You must feel this tremor of unease, right?”

  Fitran stood tall, looking at Rei coldly. “Well, even a ghost knows when to disappear. But you do not.”

  “Pray do not think this house is blind to steps like yours, Fitran,” Rei replied in a low tone. “You know what I have found in this dark shadow. It’s terrifying.”

  “Ryumaru, do you dare silence the voice of truth?” Rei asked, her eyes blazing. “You chose this path; you must face the consequences.”

  “You will be exiled from the Oda family,” Ryumaru struck the gavel. “This decision is final. Your name and face will be erased from history. Who dares to oppose, stand now!”

  Silence enveloped the courtroom. “Don’t expect anyone to help you, Rei,” a whisper came from one of the elders, creating tension in the air.

  “You underestimate those who speak; the secret army will come for you,” Ryumaru added, signaling to the guards. “Take her away.”

  Two guards pulled Rei out of the rune circle. “They can’t do this to me!” Rei shouted, her steps heavy but her head held high. One guard looked at her coldly, “Silence! You have no voice here.” Among the line of servants, some held back tears behind their hands. “What will happen to her?” whispered one servant. “We all know the risks,” replied another, her voice trembling. The elders exchanged glances, fear and secrets now visible in their eyes.

  In the following days, the main Oda house transformed into a labyrinth of paranoia. “Did you hear that whisper? They might be talking about us,” said a young guard as he walked through the hallway. Whispers in the corridors often spoke of who would be the next victim. “Who’s next?” asked his friend, his face pale. “It could be anyone; we are no longer safe,” he replied ominously. The servants stopped trusting each other, even over kitchen matters. “You didn’t tell anyone about that, did you?” one servant said to another. The elders who once stood united now debated fiercely over trivial rumors. “We must take action before it’s too late,” urged one elder, her eyes shining with tension. Some young guards quietly approached Fitran, hoping for protection. “You can protect us, right?” one pleaded, her voice full of hope.

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  In the main chamber, Nobuzan sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes anxiously watching her husband standing behind the magical curtain. “You won’t let this continue, will you?” Nobuzan asked, her voice trembling. “I must do what is right, even if it’s hard,” her husband replied without turning. “But what will happen to me? We could get caught up in all this,” Nobuzan explained, her face sweating. “We must stay strong, no matter what threats come our way,” he answered firmly, but he knew that decision wouldn’t be easy.

  Nobuzan clasped her hands together, “Once, this house was a refuge. Now, everyone seems to be waiting for their turn to be judged. Every step feels like the sound of a death bell,” she said, her voice quivering. “There’s sadness in that feeling, isn’t there?”

  Fitran gazed out the window, a faint smile masking the sharpness of his thoughts, “Sometimes, just by shaking the branches of a tree, you know which ones are the most fragile,” he replied, stealing a glance at Nobuzan. “You feel trapped, don’t you?”

  Nobuzan sighed heavily, looking at Fitran with weary honesty, “Aren’t you afraid everyone will distance themselves from you? Or worse?” she asked, a hint of doubt in her voice. “One by one, they will leave; I’m worried…”

  Fitran turned, his gaze calming yet mysterious, “Those who are afraid usually have a reason to be. Those who are truly loyal will stay by my side,” he answered, as if burying uncertainty in his heart. “Are you sure about their loyalty?”

  As paranoia deepened, Ryumaru and the elders visited Fitran’s study more frequently. The western wing hall of the house had become a discussion space, magical maps and documents scattered across the table. “Fitran,” Elder Senzaburo said, walking slowly down the hallway, his voice trembling, “If you catch a whiff of betrayal again, please tell me. I’m old. I just want to die in peace…”

  Fitran smiled warmly, his hand touching Senzaburo’s shoulder like a blessing of magic, “Calm down, Senzaburo-sama. As long as I’m here, no one can close their eyes to danger.”

  Senzaburo bowed his head, worried. “But are you sure? This fortress… not everything is safe, is it?”

  A young guard, bowing politely before Fitran, spoke with a trembling voice, “Fate-dono… if I find a strange letter or a hidden message, should I come directly to you? I don’t trust all the elders.”

  Fitran patted the guard’s shoulder, his voice warm yet firm, “Come directly to me. Don’t be afraid. This house needs honest guardians, not cunning traitors.” He added, “When dark currents flow, we must ensure the light remains.”

  Elder Hisayuki, crossing his arms at the end of the hall, spoke bitterly, “So now, only Fitran can judge who deserves to stay here?”

  Fitran turned calmly, “I’m just helping to clear the mud so the water remains clear, Hisayuki-sama.” He glanced at Hisayuki, “But be careful; sometimes calm waters can hide great dangers.”

  The village of Yamato trembled as well. The people spoke of great changes; some felt safe because “the traitors are starting to be judged,” while others feared the atmosphere was tightening like in ancient war times. “Why do they boast about justice?” whispered one voice, “Every justice has its price,” replied another. Children were forbidden to play in the yard without supervision. Merchants in the market chose to bow their heads, afraid to mention big names. “Are we strong enough to face what’s coming?” asked one merchant. “Only time can answer,” replied his friend with a hesitant tone.

  Rumors grew, soft whispers,

  “Fitran, the shadow of the decisive,” that’s what they called the foreign son-in-law. A woman approached her friend, “Do you believe in her promise?” Her friend replied quietly, “She has a plan, but plans can backfire.” Some admired her, while others secretly suspected. Yet one by one, respect and reverence for Fitran took deeper root.

  At night, the glyphs on the porch glowed a soft blue. The air outside was humid with the steam of protective spells. Fitran stood under the bamboo roof, gazing at the wet yard and the shimmering aether swirling in the sky. “What do you see, Fitran?” asked a voice. “Uncertainty,” she replied softly, “like the sky before a storm.”

  “Ryumaru,” Fitran broke the silence, her voice calm yet firm, “we are on the edge of a cliff. This clan is threatened, and I feel something greater is approaching.”

  Ryumaru nodded slowly, “When the enemy comes from outside, the decision won’t be easy. Are you sure you can do anything for safety?”

  “I don’t want to choose that path,” Fitran replied, her gaze sharp, “but if I must, who will I leave behind? Who will you choose, Ryumaru-sama?”

  Ryumaru exhaled, somewhat hesitant, “I… I just want to protect. But will we be the same if forced to conspire?”

  “We have surpassed that boundary,” Fitran asserted, “everyone has unseen shadows. And when darkness comes, we must be ready to face it.”

  “Do you believe we can pierce through that shadow, Fitran?” Ryumaru asked with a worried tone.

  “Trust me,” Fitran replied, “those in the darkness know the light better, and I will ensure they remain awake.”

  “So, what’s your next step?” Ryumaru asked, her gaze sharp and hopeful.

  “I will use whatever I have,” Fitran stated firmly, “from within or without. We must not be divided.”

  “Perhaps that’s what the shadow means,” Ryumaru whispered, “we will only know if we are friends or foes in the end.”

  The oil lamps in the house began to extinguish one by one. Behind the walls and magical fences, the Oda family struggled to sleep. Yet anxiety and hope intertwined in every room. In the porch, only one shadow stood the longest, unmoving even as the aether in the air thickened. Yamato, for the time being, remained safe—in the grip of a mastermind who had planted her roots deeper than anyone before.