Chapter 16: Whispers of Lightning and Blood
The candlelight flickered low in Volundr's private study, casting long shadows across maps, scrolls, and reports strewn across the obsidian desk.
His eyes, sharp and unblinking, moved from one parchment to the next—each bearing fragments of a growing storm.
From coded reports intercepted by his informants in the Shinto territories, a thread had emerged. A shrine maiden fallen from grace.
Her child, a half-breed born of a devil and human union. And the Himejima clan, purists among the exorcist world, had declared both mother and daughter as abominations.
"Shuri Himejima," Volundr murmured, fingers pressing against a sigil-sealed document. "Akeno Himejima."
He leaned back in the high-backed chair, hands steepled beneath his chin. The name tugged something deep in his memory—visions from a dream, hazy silhouettes of a crying girl and a storm-torn shrine.
The aura he had felt that night now aligned with the energy signature described in the reports.
His jaw tightened. This wasn't coincidence. This was fate, knocking.
But fate was a cruel mistress.
He was young. Officially unranked for field action, untested by council approval. Any interference in human territory, especially religiously protected zones, could risk political backlash from the Shinto faction. Worse still, if discovered, he could spark inter-factional suspicion that could stain his family name.
Yet...
He closed his eyes. In the darkness behind his lids, he saw again that dream: Akeno, no older than five, curled against her mother's chest, weeping as fire and judgment fell upon their sanctuary.
Time was short.
He could not wait.
That night, beneath the veil of midnight, he summoned Claudius and Lirien to the Hall of Iron Roots—a sealed war room beneath the estate where voices were silenced by design.
"I need you both," he began, voice lower than a whisper but heavy as steel. "This is not political. Not sanctioned. It is a rescue."
Claudius said nothing, merely knelt and bowed his head in acknowledgement.
Lirien narrowed her eyes. "Targets?"
He unrolled a scroll. "Shuri and Akeno Himejima. Tracked to a hidden temple in the mountains of Kyoto. Captured by Himejima clan purists.
Their execution has been scheduled under a fabricated ritual—masked as divine purification."
Claudius's fists clenched. "Children."
Lirien exhaled slowly. "Extraction?
"
Volundr nodded. "Silent infiltration.
Senjutsu-based cloaking. Disruption via spiritual terrain inversion. Escape through leyline fractures beneath the mountain. We'll use the festival chaos in Kyoto to bury our traces."
"Support?"
"None. Only us. No one else knows. And no one must."
Over the next forty-eight hours, Volundr pored through ancient shrine layouts and spiritual terrain maps, tracing how exorcist barriers were constructed.
The Himejima clan had a predictable rhythm—barriers layered in ritualistic formations meant to delay devils through holy pressure and elemental disruption.
But he was not most devils.
Senjutsu, in its raw form, bent the world's pulse to the user's will. And Volundr had trained himself in silence, in wind, in shadow. He had walked among spiritual fields without ever making the leaves rustle.
Now, it was time to put that discipline to its greatest test.
They would enter through the shadow of Mt. Kurama, using old tengu paths carved in myths but forgotten by men.
Volundr sketched his plan on thin parchment with invisible ink, infused with intent-sealing spells. No devil magic. Only nature and guile.
He traced the final line with steady precision.
On the eve of their departure, Volundr stood before the family shrine and lit a single candle.
He didn't pray. He never did. But he did reflect.
"This isn't my world," he said softly, staring into the flickering flame.
"But neither is it theirs to corrupt. Innocence should not bleed because the powerful deem it unworthy."
He blew out the candle.
In the silent dark, the vow remained.
Even if it's not my world, I won't let innocence bleed where I can stop it.