The moment Nathan and Shiina crossed into Death God Valley, the air changed.
It was not merely colder. It felt heavier, as if the mist itself carried weight. It clung to the ground in pale strips and coiled around the stones underfoot, moving too slowly to be wind and too steadily to be natural. The road descending from the eastern entrance was narrow and uneven, lined with old lantern posts whose flames looked weak and sickly behind clouded glass.
Below them, the valley spread in layers.
Houses had been built into the slopes in cramped rows, their roofs stacked one beneath another like scales on the body of some dead beast. Wooden bridges connected sections of the settlement where the rock split too sharply to walk across. Farther in, darker and higher than the rest, rose the central stronghold of the valley. Mitsuhide's castle stood on black stone carved straight into the cliff, half fortress and half wound in the mountain. Even from this distance, it looked oppressive.
