Arriving back at the looming architecture of the Midorima mansion, Haruka and Seijirou did not waste a single moment.

The eerie, hollow atmosphere of the town had settled into their bones, a chill that no amount of afternoon sun could dissipate.

They moved with a synchronized, purposeful gait through the sprawling wooden corridors, their footsteps muffled by the expensive tatami and polished cedar.

Soon, they found the elders.

Ryusui and Miyako were seated on the wide, sprawling balcony that overlooked the meticulously manicured rock garden.

Yuko was with them, her posture significantly more relaxed than it had been upon their arrival.

She was mid-sentence, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she shared a memory with her mother, but the lightheartedness of the scene felt jarringly out of place compared to the uncanny demographic void Seijirou had just witnessed in the village streets.

Noticing their sudden and somewhat breathless return, Ryusui called out to them, his voice gruff but lacking the sharp edge of hostility from earlier.

"What are you two hiding there? Come here if you want to talk." He gestured with a weathered hand after telling them to come out and join the circle.

Without hesitation, the two of them walked towards the elders.

The transition from the shaded interior to the bright, open balcony felt like stepping into a spotlight.

Yuko looked up, her expression softening into a warm smile as she patted the empty spots on the cushions beside her.

The two of them sat down, but the tension radiating from Seijirou was palpable, a low-frequency hum of alertness that Haruka mirrored perfectly.

"You look troubled," Ryusui said, his sharp eyes narrowing as he observed the way Seijirou’s gaze drifted toward the mountain peak overlooking the town before settling on him. "Is there something you want to say? You look like a man who has seen a ghost in broad daylight."

Seijirou nodded, leaning forward slightly, his hands resting on his knees.

He didn’t believe in dancing around a subject when the air felt this heavy. "I noticed that your town lacks women, grandfather. Not just a few missing here or there, but a total absence. Haruka and I walked through the market and the main residential roads. We saw hundreds of men, but the only woman we’ve seen in this entire valley since we arrived is Yuko-san and grandmother. Is this normal for this place?"

Ryusui stared at him for a long, silent beat.

Then, he slammed his hand onto the armrest of his chair, though it seemed more out of habit than true anger. "Why are you searching for women? You bastard, are you not satisfied with taking my daughter and granddaughter!? Are you already looking for the next one in my village!?"

Seijirou didn’t flinch as be met the patriarch’s glare with a flat, serious expression. "I’m satisfied, of course I’m satisfied. They are more than enough for me to spend ten lifetimes. But this is a very serious question. It feels very weird, almost uncanny, and when Haruka and I noticed this when we were out on a stroll earlier, we also noticed the ’vibe’ of the men was... unsettling, to say the least."

Haruka nodded in confirmation, her voice a quiet, clinical addition. "The gender ratio is statistically impossible for a natural settlement, grandfather. Even the children we saw were exclusively male."

Ryusui snorted, turning his head away to look at the garden, but he didn’t have an immediate answer.

It was Miyako who spoke up, her voice calm and flowing, as if she were explaining a simple weather pattern.

"It is probably because of the festival, Seijirou-kun," Miyako answered, pouring a fresh round of tea with a steady hand. "Around this time... the women should be up at the temple, performing the ancestral ritual to pray to the God of the Mountain. It is a period of seclusion and purification. They remain there to ensure the fertility of the land and the safety of the harvest."

Seijirou blinked, his mind processing the explanation. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

It sounded like a standard folk tradition, yet it didn’t sit right with the "mechanical" behavior he had seen in the men. "...That’s it? Every single woman in the village is just... at church?"

Miyako nodded gracefully. "Of course. Why? Is the concept of religious devotion so foreign to you city folk?"

Seijirou shook his head, though his eyes remained narrowed. "Nothing, I just thought there was more to it."

A town full of inbred-looking men and a mountain full of hidden women usually sounds like the start of a horror movie.

"Anyway, what’s up with that temple anyway? Why is it so strictly off-limits? Why can’t we visit it or even walk near the gates?"

Miyako shook her head, her expression becoming somewhat pensive. "Who knows? I have lived in this estate for decades, and even I have never been there before. They have their own laws up there, and they never let anyone who isn’t a consecrated priest enter, with the absolute exception of the village women who go to pray for the ritual. It is a tradition that predates the Midorima family’s arrival in this valley."

"Seems sketchy," Seijirou noted bluntly. "A place that bars the local nobility but takes all their women for ’prayers’ is a red flag in my book."

Miyako smiled, a thin, knowing expression. "Why do you think I never entered? And I never allowed Yuko to enter there, either, when she was a girl. I may respect tradition, but I have a mother’s instinct for safety."

"Sketchy or not," Ryusui interjected, his voice regaining its authoritative rumble, "it is the way of this valley. It is our job as the Midorima to protect this mountain and its people from anyone trying to bring harm to it from the outside. In return, we have a pact of non-interference. We never really interfered with the internal affairs of the temple, and they never interfered with the management of the estate or the village business. It has kept the peace for generations."

Seijirou nodded, though he was far from convinced.

He could sense the stagnant Ki in the air, and he knew that "peace" was often just another word for a well-maintained cage.

But no matter what, whatever is happening in this town, as long as it doesn’t involve him or those around him, is none of his problem.

Just like Ryusui said, they have kept this peace for generations.

And the one thing he doesn’t like to do is fixing things that aren’t broken.

"I see. I understand the political situation now. I won’t cause trouble for the sake of it."

"Anyway, don’t worry about those things for now," Ryusui said, waving a hand as if to dismiss the shadows of the mountain. "Just prepare yourselves. The sun is setting, and the banquet will begin soon. Especially you, Yuko—lots of your former classmates and the local families have already heard that you returned. They will surely flock to you tonight to see the ’legend’ who left for the city."

Yuko smiled wryly, the weight of the social expectation visible on her face. "I understand, father. I’ll try to be a good daughter and represent the family well."

Ryusui stared at the three of them—Seijirou, Haruka, and Yuko—sitting together in a way that clearly defined their bond.

He let out a long sigh. "Whether to tell the truth about your... relationship... is up to you. I’ve given my blessing, but I’m way too old to deal with the gossip that will follow if you go public. Just don’t embarrass me on my birthday."

*

*

*

At this moment, high above the estate, the shadows of the temple were lengthening, stretching like dark fingers down toward the village.

Inside the main hall, the air was cold and heavy with the scent of old blood and iron.

The High Priest sat cross-legged in front of the faceless mask, his massive frame casting a distorted shadow against the altar.

"Is this true?" the High Priest asked, his voice a wet, guttural rasp.

Behind him, the deformed young man from the street was kneeling, his forehead pressed against the stone. "Yes, High Priest. My father personally confirmed it when he encountered them on the road. Those two city children, they possess supernatural powers. The boy specifically has a Ki that is so refined, unlike anything we have seen in the common folk. They are dangerous."

"Tsk, that’s very troublesome," the High Priest spat, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "We are so close to the Consecration. We need to find ways to get them away from Yuko. If they are as strong as your father suggests, they might interfere with the transition."

Just then, the porcelain mask on the altar seemed to pulse as a faint, ethereal light throbbed behind the white surface, and a sound like a thousand whispering insects filled the room.

The High Priest leaned in, his eyes widening in fanatical delight as he listened to the "voice" of his god.

He smirked, his confidence returning. "Never mind. The Great God has spoken. We will handle this. The power of the mountain is absolute within these boundaries. Tonight, during the height of the banquet when the music is loudest and the wine is flowing, prepare everyone. We will kidnap Yuko. The final ritual can only begin once the lost Miko is back on the altar. If the boy tries to stop us, we will show him the true meaning of sacrifice."

"Yes, High Priest!" the young man cried, his distorted face twisting into a mask of cruel joy.

"The village is ready. The night belongs to the God." The High Priest chuckled.

Outside, the first stars began to twinkle over the valley, but they looked cold and indifferent to the darkness gathering in the heights. The harvest was about to begin.