The silence was suffocating.

  The group sat in the decrepit shrine, its cracked tiles glowing faintly under the silver spill of moonlight. No one spoke. Not even Mae, whose steady optimism had held them together more times than Ren could count. Even Isamu’s usual calm had given way to a taut stillness that felt like coiled wire ready to snap.

  They had seen it.

  The banquet. The bodies. The truth behind the Rengoku clan's endless feast.

  They were cannibals.

  Ren broke the silence with the quiet rustle of fabric as he leaned back against the moss-coated wall. He stared at the eerie flicker of his shadow on the floor, breath even but shallow.

  Then he whispered, “System.”

  The air warped slightly around him, a ripple only visible to his eyes. The Mandate flared to life.

  [ Kami Mandate Established ]

  [ Name: Kurozawa Ren ]

  [ Designation: Adept ]

  [ Primary Directive: Survive the Court’s Game ]

  [ Mandate Rank: Primordial ]

  [ Aspect Rank: Adept ]

  [ Essence Accumulation: 102 / ??? ]

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  [ Flaw: Hunger Unending — You must consume to sustain your existence. The more you use the Mandate, the more the void within you gnaws at your soul. ]

  [ New Skill: Abyssal Veil (Enhanced) — Temporary intangibility. Cannot interact with the world. Essence drain per second. Extended use may cause Mandate Overload. ]

  Ren scrolled through the system interface with a narrowing gaze.

  “‘Survive the Court’s Game’...?” he muttered. “That’s new.”

  Jin, sharpening his blade in the corner, glanced over. “Court’s Game?”

  Ren turned the screen toward him. Jin paled.

  Isamu stepped forward, crouching next to Ren. “That’s a designation. Not random. The Mandate only assigns Directives when a situation is critical. Which means…”

  “We’re pieces on a board,” Ren said quietly. “The Rengoku aren’t just monsters. They’re playing something deeper. Something twisted.”

  Mae finally spoke. “The guild… Would they know?”

  Ren shook his head. “Maybe. Maybe not. But they’re neutral. They won’t act unless one of us bleeds for it.”

  “I’ve bled enough,” Isamu said dryly. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t force their hand.”

  Mae crossed her arms. “And if we don’t play?”

  “Then we lose. Or worse—disappear, like those we saw hanging upside down in their dining hall.” Ren looked at each of them. “We either bring this to light or we become their next feast.”

  They all felt the weight of the decision hanging in the air like a blade.

  Ren exhaled slowly. “So… we move.”

  “To where?” Jin asked.

  Ren’s eyes glinted in the moonlight.

  “To the archives.”

  Mae blinked. “That’s suicide. The Rengoku keep their knowledge under lock and curse.”

  Ren gave a half-smile, sharp and weary. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t mind bleeding.”

  Outside, the wind howled through the trees.

  Inside, shadows danced longer than they should.

  They would face death. They would uncover truths not meant to be known. And in the process, they would decide what kind of monsters they were willing to become.