Chapter 133
Ayaka’s eyes fluttered open, her vision blurred as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. The air was thick with dust, the scent of decay clinging to the walls of the vast, decrepit chamber. Faint moonlight filtered in through the cracks in the high stone ceiling, illuminating fragments of an era long past in that moment.
The throne room was a shadow of its former glory. The banners of the Kamisato Clan hung in tatters, their once-pristine fabric now dulled by time and neglect. Ornate carvings along the pillars were worn and chipped, and the marble floor was cracked with age. A deep, foreboding silence pressed against her ears, only broken by the soft echo of her own breath.
As Ayaka slowly pushed herself up from the cold floor, her gaze traveled to the grand throne that loomed ahead. Seated upon it was a figure she knew all too well—her brother, Kamisato Ayato. But something about him was wrong. His usual calm demeanor had been replaced by an air of contempt, his piercing gaze burning with something sinister. Beneath his eyes, red symbols pulsated with an eerie glow, as though they were carved into his very skin. His armor was nothing like the traditional garb of the Yashiro Commission—this was something more resplendent, more domineering, yet twisted in its grandeur. Gold and crimson threads intertwined along his sleeves, and a regal mantle draped over his shoulders like the cloak of an emperor.
Ayato rose from the throne, his movements deliberate, calculated. The heavy silence shattered as his voice cut through the air.
"So you’ve finally woken up, Ayaka." His tone was laced with disdain. "For too long, I have watched you bask in the honor of the Kamisato name. But tell me, dear sister, do you truly believe you are worthy of it? Your so-called grace, your loyalty—it is nothing but a frail illusion."
Ayaka’s heart pounded in her chest, confusion warring with the sting of his words. "Brother, what are you saying? This isn’t you—what happened here? What happened to you?"
Ayato scoffed, stepping forward, his presence overwhelming. "What happened? I awakened. I realized that honor is not measured in kindness or servitude, but in strength. And I have outgrown the fragile ideals of our family. I will not be shackled by the expectations of a weak clan."
He drew his blade, the light catching its polished edge, gleaming with an unnatural luster. "The Kamisato name deserves a leader who is beyond reproach, beyond doubt. And you... you are an obstacle in my path. Your honor pales before mine, Ayaka. You are unfit to bear the Kamisato crest."
Ayaka felt her grip tighten around her own weapon. This could not be real. This had to be some twisted nightmare. And yet, as Ayato’s presence bore down upon her, the truth settled in like a stone in her stomach.
He meant every word.
Ayato raised his blade, a smirk playing on his lips. "Here and now, I will end this farce. I will prove myself as the greatest within our family—the true Kamisato. And you, dear sister, will fade into irrelevance."