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"What? My subordinate is loyal to the Shogun—how could he betray the nation? There must be some mistake!"
Kujo Sora's face went pale, his expression frozen in disbelief. His voice cracked as he tried to argue back, but the accusation struck him like a bolt of thunder. His head spun, buzzing as though a thousand insects swarmed inside.
The soldiers of the shogunate around him were just as confused. Kujo Sara, commander of the Tenryou Commission, had always been the model of loyalty to the Raiden Shogun. Her dedication to the Shogun's vision of Eternity was unquestionable. How could betrayal be mentioned in the same breath as her name?
Yae Miko, the elegant yet cunning Guuji of the Grand Narukami Shrine, shook her head softly. Her lips curved in a half-smile that was far more chilling than kind.
"I know you are loyal to the General, Kujo Sara. That's exactly why I said you are unfortunate. You are a victim in this game."
She stepped closer, her steps echoing against the silent courtyard, and her eyes glittered with quiet sorrow.
"Think carefully. From the beginning until now, the Tenshukaku has never received a true report about the state of Inazuma. Yet every document reaching the castle claimed that the land was peaceful, the people content, and harmony reigned. Do you really believe that was the truth?"
Yae Miko's voice cut like a blade as she revealed the bitter reality.
"Kujo Takayuki allied himself with powerful clans, colluded with the Fatui, and deceived both superiors and subordinates. It was he who twisted the Shogun's will, urging her to enforce the Sakoku Decree and the Vision Hunt. By the time the Shogun realized something was wrong, the very foundation of Inazuma had already been shaken."
Kujo Sora staggered. His mind roared. The ground beneath him seemed to tilt, as if the world itself were crumbling. His own father—the patriarch of the Kujo Clan—was branded a traitor who had colluded with foreign powers to enslave their nation?
His vision blurred. All his life, Sora had believed the Kujo family's purpose was to uphold the Shogun's will. That loyalty was their honor, their reason for existence. Now, everything he knew was unraveling.
Yae Miko's voice softened, almost pitying.
"I do not wish to see those who were genuinely loyal to the Shogun destroyed because of another's schemes. When the time comes, I will plead for you before the General. But for now—go to the Tenshukaku. Present yourself. Confess."
She lifted the Raiden Shogun's own blade, the Musou Isshin—Mist-Cutting Blade. Its glow was undeniable proof of her authority.
"Soldiers of the shogunate, arrest Kujo Takayuki and all those who aided him."
The moment those words fell, the soldiers around finally understood.
For years, they had wondered why Inazuma's policies grew harsher, why their people suffered under unreasonable decrees. They had assumed these came from the Shogun herself, divine and untouchable. But now, the truth stood before them: it was not the Shogun, but a traitorous schemer within their own ranks.
And with the Shogun's blade in Yae Miko's hand, how could there be any doubt?
The anger of betrayal surged like wildfire. Soldiers turned on the Kujo retainers with a fury that could not be contained. Those who bore the Kujo crest were seized, dragged away in chains, their struggles meaningless. Resistance was impossible. Not only did the wrath of heaven hang above them—one strike of Raiden's lightning could erase them—but the soldiers themselves, enraged by years of deceit, would have torn them apart.
The once-mighty Kujo family crumbled in a single breath.
Yae Miko, however, did not immediately return to the castle. Instead, she turned with her usual grace and made her way toward Watatsumi Island.
She sighed as she walked, her voice low and teasing though tinged with weary sincerity.
"Ah, such is the fate of a mere familiar. They summon me when I am needed, and cast me aside when I am not. I am remembered only in times of crisis."
Yet her eyes sparkled. She was glad. Glad that Ei—Raiden Shogun's true self, Kage—had finally emerged from the Plane of Euthymia.
Though she loved her master dearly, even Yae Miko had long believed that Ei's obsession with Eternity and her reliance on a puppet body had blinded her. Inazuma had been left to rot, handed over to corrupt men and to the Fatui's schemes.
The chaos had grown so great it even stirred Celestia. Had the heavens not intervened, Ei might never have left her meditations.
Miko's smile faltered at the thought of another matter—Lord Mathew from Celestia.
For the next few days, she would serve as his guide. That thought gave her a rare flicker of unease.
Would he be swayed by her beauty? She knew she was no less radiant than Ei herself. Yet she dared not hope. The aura around Mathew spoke of a being higher than Ei, perhaps even higher than Celestia's arbiters. His presence weighed heavily on her heart.
If such a god turned his gaze upon her, what would become of her? She hated those who had driven Inazuma to such ruin, but in her heart, she could not deny the dread of what fate awaited her now.
And looming behind all this turmoil was the cold shadow of the Fatui, under the Tsaritsa. Their hand was everywhere, their whispers seeding chaos. Even Ei's abandoned puppet—the one known as Scaramouche—had fallen into their ranks as a Harbinger.
It was a cruel irony.
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Watatsumi Island, Coral Palace
Though ordinary rebel soldiers could not escape Raiden's lightning, Gorou—blessed with his Vision—managed to return ahead of Yae Miko. He rushed into the Coral Palace, his face grim, and delivered the news.
Their forces had not been entirely wiped out, but it was clear that the Shogun's hand had fallen.
The elders and dignitaries of Watatsumi gathered in panic. Thunder rolled across the skies, clouds seething above the sea.
"Lady Sangonomiya, what should we do now?" one elder asked, his voice shaking. His body trembled like a reed in the wind.
Until today, he had thought gods and armies were the same. Numbers and weapons would prevail, he believed. But after seeing lightning from heaven obliterate soldiers as easily as leaves in a storm, his courage broke.
Kokomi's lips twisted into a bitter smile.
"What should we do? Why did you not ask me before you provoked this war?"
Her voice was sharp as her gaze swept the assembly. The Sangonomiya faith in Orobashi—their great serpent god—had ended when the Raiden Shogun slew him with a single strike. Without divine protection, what chance did Watatsumi have against the Shogunate? Even if they won a battle, would Ei simply sit idly by?
Her heart ached with anger, but not at Raiden. She was furious with the so-called leaders of Watatsumi—men blinded by greed who had dragged their people into a hopeless conflict.
"Can we not resist?" one of them dared ask, voice laced with resentment.
Kokomi closed her eyes, forcing calm into her tone.
"There are many ways to solve disputes. But you—" she looked at them with cutting scorn, "—chose the most foolish path. To pit mortal blades against a god's thunder. To strike cities instead of hearts. And now? Now you come to me seeking salvation."
Silence fell. None could meet her eyes.
"At this point, there is only one road left. Surrender."
The word hung heavy, like the toll of a funeral bell.
"Surrender? Do you think the Shogun will forgive us?" the elder croaked.
Kokomi did not answer. She looked to the heavens, where thunder growled unceasingly. Lightning split the sky again and again, blasting rock and soil apart. Could any mortal imagine forgiveness beneath such power?
Yet there was a sliver of hope. Raiden had not annihilated their fleeing soldiers. That alone meant mercy. If they yielded, if they offered up those responsible for the rebellion, perhaps Watatsumi could survive.
If sacrifice was needed, Kokomi would bear it. She would gladly offer her own life to spare her people.
The dignitaries understood as well, though unwilling. They were clever men, used to grasping at fortune. Now, with the end before them, they searched desperately for excuses. But thunder's roar silenced even their lies.
A soldier burst in, breathless and pale.
"Lady Sangonomiya! Narukami's Guuji—bearing the Shogun's blade—has entered the palace!"
Panic swept the hall. Before anyone could react, a soft, lilting voice echoed through the chamber.
"Oh, don't say I 'barged in.' No one stopped me, so how could it be breaking in?"
The doors swung open. Yae Miko walked gracefully into the Coral Palace, the Mist-Cutting Blade of the Shogun resting casually in her hand. Her eyes swept over the trembling nobles before settling on Kokomi.
"The living shrine maiden of Watatsumi Island—Sangonomiya Kokomi. You are wise. You know exactly why I am here."
Her smile was serene. But beneath it, the storm of judgment had arrived.
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