The next day, just after dawn, two shadowy figures appeared at the gates of the towering combat laboratory.
Miyatsu and Miroku stood quietly outside what was once Sebastian's home. The modest, weathered cottage that had belonged to Kikyo and Kaede was now unrecognizable, transformed by Sebastian's hand into a fortress-like high-rise, its steel framework and arcane mechanisms gleaming faintly in the morning mist. The air carried an almost oppressive stillness, as though the building itself were alive and watching.
The two men stared at it with a mix of awe and disbelief. In an age where construction was still rudimentary and technology unevenly spread, such a structure felt impossibly ahead of its time, like a relic from a forgotten civilization.
"How long are we supposed to wait here?" Miyatsu muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm not sure," Miroku replied calmly, beads rolling between his fingers. "Either Sir Sebastian will emerge, or one of his… followers will come by."
Miyatsu frowned. "You fool, he told us himself yesterday, he hasn't even established a temple, what followers could he have?"
"Then wait silently. Stop talking." Miroku's curt tone carried finality.
Miyatsu glanced at him, tempted to argue, but instead reached for the wine gourd tied at his waist. His hand grasped air; he'd forgotten it had been confiscated.
"Drink in front of Sebastian, and he'll never take you seriously," Miroku had warned last night. The monk hadn't argued then, though it left him restless now.
Minutes stretched into an hour. Miyatsu shifted uncomfortably but said nothing more, observing Miroku's composed demeanor. The older monk stood motionless, eyes closed, hands clasping his prayer beads with unwavering discipline, like a statue carved from living stone. Respect stirred in Miyatsu's chest. With a soft sigh, he too folded his hands and began to meditate.
As the sky brightened, the first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon, painting the laboratory's steel and glass in gold.
"Tiring," Miyatsu murmured under his breath.
"But worth it," Miroku said softly, eyes still closed. "We've been well rewarded for this."
Miyatsu smirked. "I can't wait to see Sebastian's reaction this time."
Before either man could speak again, a voice rang out irritably from behind them, "Ugh, what a day!"
It was Tsubaki, returning from a mission, her clothes marked with dirt and exhaustion. Having stayed at Sebastian's home for two weeks without paying for her keep, she'd finally been forced to cover her expenses through difficult errands. Though she complained, there was no resentment in her tone; she knew she'd been in the wrong.
"You two?" Tsubaki stopped abruptly, spotting the monks.
"Miss," Miroku said, bowing respectfully with a formal Buddhist greeting. "This poor monk is Miroku."
Tsubaki blinked in surprise at his seriousness. Rumor had painted Miroku as a shameless womanizer, yet here he was, reserved and disciplined, not sparing her so much as a glance.
Miyatsu added quickly, "And I'm Miyatsu."
Her jaw dropped slightly. "You're the Master Miroku and Monk Miyatsu?! The exorcists?"
She took a step back, wide-eyed. "Why are you here?"
"We now serve Sir Sebastian," Mibao said simply.
Tsubaki's confusion deepened. "Serve him? As… guards?"
"More than guards," Miyatsu corrected, his lips curling into a faint smile. "We're his disciples under trial."
The girl blinked, speechless.
Meanwhile, beyond the outskirts of the village, a lone figure crouched beside a riverbank. Wrapped in a dark robe, only his sharp amber eyes reflected in the rushing water.
Inuyasha studied his reflection carefully. "Perfect. Not even I'd recognize myself like this."
Satisfied, he slipped through the underbrush toward the village. He'd infiltrated during the chaos when the god of death had attacked, and now he intended to get close to Sebastian's mansion and steal the legendary Jewel of Four Souls.
But as he reached the main road, a voice behind him made him freeze, "Excuse me… is Sir Sebastian's residence this way?"
His heart skipped a beat. Had his disguise been uncovered? Slowly, he turned his head. Another cloaked figure stood behind him, also completely concealed. For a split second, Inuyasha relaxed. A fellow traveler? Then a familiar scent caught his nose. Izumo, the master blacksmith of the Western Lands.
Suspicion flared immediately. The old smith had long served the General, and Inuyasha had never trusted him. He gave only a curt nod and strode off without a word.
Izumo's apprentice noticed the tension. "Master, that stranger felt… strange."
Izumo's eyes narrowed beneath his hood, watching Inuyasha vanish into the trees. "Strange indeed. But no matter. We have work to do."
He turned his attention back to their mission: meeting Sebastian, the man rumored to have annihilated a deity, and retrieving the fake Jewel of Four Souls stolen. Yet rumors had already spread like wildfire: Sebastian was said to possess the real Jewel, and monsters from all corners of neighboring lands had begun flocking here.
Izumo knew even a public declaration wouldn't stop them. Greed drove both man and beast alike, and whether the jewel was real or not, its lure would bring bloodshed.
For now, the area remained eerily calm, the storm still gathering. Many creatures were still en route, while lesser demons dared not come near Sebastian's territory. Izumo exhaled heavily. He hadn't wanted to be the spark that ignited such chaos, but the time for regrets had long passed.