Azrael had barely stepped through his front door when an unexpected voice from the living room froze him in his tracks like a bolt of lightning.
"Little Azrael, you're back."
The familiar aged tone made his blood run cold as recognition dawned with uncomfortable clarity. He mechanically turned his head toward the source of the voice, dreading what he might find.
"Master?" The single word escaped his lips as disbelief colored his features.
Sitting calmly in his living room, as if he belonged there, was none other than Master Lucian himself.
Azrael's mind raced with panic. He'd just finished meeting with Fredrika at the Crimson Oath Society's headquarters, and now his teacher had somehow materialized in his home. The timing couldn't have been more catastrophically unfortunate.
Did he see me leaving the Velvet Springhouse? Does he know about my connection to the organization? Terror gripped Azrael's heart as countless worst-case scenarios flashed through his imagination.
"Why are you here, Master?" he managed to ask, though his voice carried more tension than he'd intended.
Master Lucian studied his youngest disciple's anxious expression with knowing eyes before releasing a weary sigh. "Sit down, Azrael. We need to talk."
Azrael obediently settled into the single armchair across from his teacher, every muscle in his body coiled tight with nervous energy as he waited for whatever bomb was about to be dropped.
"I came here primarily to warn you about the Crimson Oath Society," Master Lucian began, his voice carrying the weight of serious concern.
The words hit Azrael like a physical blow, and for a terrifying moment he wondered if his heart had actually stopped beating. Through sheer force of will, he managed to keep his expression neutral while internally screaming.
"Master, what do you mean?" he asked, proud that his voice remained steady despite the chaos raging in his thoughts.
Master Lucian remained silent for a long moment, his weathered features etched with what looked like bitter resignation. When he finally spoke, his words carried the weight of hard-earned wisdom. "You've witnessed the dirty politics between the Association and the Imperial Court, haven't you?"
Azrael nodded slowly, grateful for familiar ground. This much, at least, he could discuss honestly.
"What if I told you that the Court maintains... questionable relationships with the Crimson Oath Society?" Master Lucian's voice dropped to barely above a whisper, as if speaking such words aloud might summon unwanted attention.
The revelation hung in the air between them like a loaded weapon. Azrael forced himself to react with appropriate shock, drawing a sharp breath as his eyes widened. "That's impossible, surely?"
Master Lucian's expression hardened with cold certainty. "When survival is at stake, people will ally themselves with anyone or anything that might help them cling to power."
"The secret realm manifestations have become increasingly frequent and aggressive in recent years. The Association has been struggling to contain them all." His gaze grew distant as he continued. "You've seen the situation in Velkairos firsthand, the polluted coastlines around the [Demon's Nest], the constant threat hovering over civilian populations."
Azrael nodded grimly, remembering his experiences in that city and the ever-present sense of danger that permeated daily life there. Unlike the relative peace of Pixar, Velkairos existed in a state of perpetual low-level crisis.
"For the Court, it doesn't matter who they cooperate with as long as it serves their interests," Master Lucian continued with obvious distaste. "The only reason they haven't formed closer ties is that the Crimson Oath Society seems more interested in pursuing their own mysterious agenda than playing political games."
Azrael felt a surge of understanding. From his limited interactions with the organization, they did seem focused on grander schemes rather than petty power struggles. Jin's goals remained opaque to him, but they clearly extended far beyond simple political maneuvering.
"But Master, what does this have to do with warning me about the Crimson Oath Society?" Azrael asked, though part of him dreaded the answer.
Master Lucian's face grew grave as he leaned forward slightly. "While the probability is small, I believe the Mizuno family might be desperate enough to contact the Crimson Oath Society and request your assassination."
The irony of the situation was so absurd that Azrael had to fight to suppress inappropriate laughter. Here was his teacher, warning him about the very organization where he now held the rank of Sixth Master. The cosmic joke of it all was almost too much to bear.
If only you knew, Master, he thought with dark amusement. As a high-ranking member, I'm more likely to be ordering assassinations than receiving them.
But such thoughts couldn't be voiced aloud. He had no idea how Master Lucian would react to learning that his disciple had become a leader within the very organization he considered a threat. Would he fly into a rage and strike him down on the spot? Would he pragmatically decide to use him as a double agent? Or would he simply accept it as another necessary evil in their complicated world?
Azrael wasn't willing to gamble on any of those outcomes. Until he possessed enough power to break free from all external constraints, secrecy remained his best defense.
"I'll be careful, Master," he said with appropriate solemnity, though the words felt hollow in his mouth.
However, Master Lucian's next pronouncement caught him completely off guard.
"Azrael, I want you to move in with your fourth senior sister here in Pixar. I've already discussed it with Alice."
The statement hit him like a runaway freight train. This was a development he'd never anticipated or prepared for.
"I'm about to leave Pixar myself," Master Lucian continued with obvious reluctance. "The coastal defenders have been reporting increased demon activity, and my presence is required to maintain the containment barriers."
Azrael's mind raced frantically as he processed this bombshell. Master Lucian was acting purely out of concern for his safety, leaving him no reasonable grounds for refusal. After all, who in Pixar would dare make a move against anyone under the direct protection of Alice, a Diamond-level Lore Cardian? Even Jin himself would hesitate before taking such an aggressive action.
"Ah, this..." Azrael fumbled for words, his usual composure deserting him. "Master, wouldn't it be inappropriate for senior sister and me to live together? We're different genders, and people might... misunderstand."
He laughed awkwardly, grasping for any excuse that might deflect this unwanted arrangement. The truth was that he harbored far too many secrets to safely cohabitate with anyone, especially someone as perceptive as Alice. His nocturnal activities alone would raise uncomfortable questions that he wasn't prepared to answer.
And what about my... evening entertainment? he thought with growing panic. The walls aren't nearly thick enough to muffle those kinds of sounds.
The mental image of Alice interrupting one of his intimate sessions with his summoned cards was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat. Some forms of embarrassment were truly worse than death.
A sudden inspiration struck him like lightning. "How about this, Master, I've been planning to upgrade my living situation anyway. What if I simply purchase a house next to senior sister's? That way I'd still be under her protection, but we'd both maintain our privacy."
Master Lucian hadn't expected such resistance to what seemed like a perfectly reasonable safety measure. Still, since Azrael had proposed an alternative that achieved the same protective goals, he saw no reason to force the issue.
"Very well," he agreed with a slight nod. "I'll inform Alice of the change in plans."
Relief flooded through Azrael so powerfully that he nearly collapsed back into his chair. The compromise would work perfectly, close enough to benefit from Alice's protection, but far enough away to maintain his independence and privacy.
He genuinely wasn't lying about needing a larger residence. Fubuki had been complaining about his current apartment's cramped conditions for weeks, and a bigger space would indeed be more suitable for testing new cards and their abilities. But the real motivation was avoiding scenarios where Alice might witness Crimson Oath Society members addressing him as "Sixth Master."
The mental image of that revelation made him shudder involuntarily. Some secrets were too dangerous to risk exposure, no matter how small the probability.
Meanwhile, in an opulent reception room across the city, Ottarl's weathered face had flushed crimson with rage as he confronted a gathering of elderly nobles who seemed more interested in their tea than his desperate pleas.
"Master Lucian is planning to destroy us all, and you're sitting here acting like nothing's wrong?" he snarled, his gnarled hands gripping his walking cane so tightly that his knuckles showed white beneath the skin.
The other old men in the room appeared lost in their own thoughts, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the furious patriarch.
"Now, now, what are you getting so worked up about?" a short, portly man said with infuriating casualness. "Didn't you provoke him first? The rest of us have no quarrel with Master Lucian."
The comment struck Ottarl's rawest nerve, making him practically vibrate with indignation. "The past is prologue!" he spat venomously. "You dismiss this threat at your own peril! When he decides you're next, don't come crying to me for help!"
The assembled nobles continued sipping their tea with studied indifference, their silence more insulting than any words could have been.
After what felt like an eternity, one of them finally deigned to respond. "What exactly do you want from us, Ottarl?"
"Help with your revenge?"
The mocking tone in the question made Ottarl's jaw clench with barely suppressed fury. Meeting their contemptuous gazes with iron determination, he delivered his ultimatum, "I want to contact Jin."
"I want that Azrael dead."
The reception room fell into absolute silence, the only sound the subtle clink of porcelain as hands suddenly stilled.
The elderly nobles exchanged meaningful glances before delivering their unanimous refusal. "Absolutely not. We don't have Jin's contact information anyway."
"Besides, asking the Crimson Oath Society to act at this critical moment would be suicide. Do you think Master Lucian is an idiot? He'd trace any assassination attempt straight back to us."
Ottarl's voice dropped to a threatening growl. "Don't forget that you were all complicit in what happened to Master Lucian's first and second disciples!"
"When the Association finally gets the breathing room to settle old scores, do you really think any of us will escape retribution?"
This reminder sent visible ripples of unease through the gathered nobles. Past sins had a way of catching up with those who thought themselves untouchable.
But Ottarl's next words exploded among them like a thunderbolt from clear skies, "Look at that Azrael carefully."
"Doesn't he remind you of someone? Someone whose name starts with 'L' and ends with 'ren'?"
The comparison hung in the air like a death sentence. Every person in the room understood the implications immediately, if the Association produced another Sovereign-level Lore Cardian like the legendary Lioren, it would spell doom for every faction that had opposed them.
After a long, tense silence, a reluctant voice finally emerged from the group. "We truly don't have direct contact with Jin."
"You know as well as we do that the Crimson Oath Society isn't particularly interested in our little political games."
"But we can provide you with contact information for the highest-ranking member we've encountered."
Ottarl's lips twisted into a predatory grin that spoke of terrible things to come. "That will be sufficient. I'm confident the Crimson Oath Society won't allow such a prodigy to reach his full potential."
With his goal achieved, Ottarl departed the reception room without another word, leaving behind a group of increasingly nervous nobles who were already regretting their involvement.
His parting comment carried the weight of cold logic. Azrael's performance during the duel had indeed reminded him of the Association's Sovereign-level Lore Cardian [Eternal Light] Lioren. If the Association managed to produce another practitioner of that caliber, it would represent an existential threat to every family that had chosen to align themselves with the Imperial Court.
Eliminating Azrael now wasn't just revenge, it was a preemptive strike against a future that could see their entire way of life destroyed.
But direct action by the Mizuno family would invite immediate and overwhelming retaliation. Even Zidaine wouldn't be able to protect them from Master Lucian's wrath if they were caught red-handed.
Fortunately, the Crimson Oath Society existed in the shadows for precisely such situations. They could accomplish what others dared not attempt, and the plausible deniability would preserve everyone's carefully maintained facades.
As Ottarl made his way through the darkened streets of Pixar, his thoughts turned to the ironic twist of fate that would soon unfold. He was about to ask the Crimson Oath Society to eliminate one of their own high-ranking members, completely unaware of the web of deception that surrounded his target.
The consequences of that ignorance would prove more far-reaching than any of them could possibly imagine.