The compound erupted in chaos. Shouts rang out as members of the Zen'in clan rushed to confront her. Steel met air as weapons were drawn, techniques unleashed.
Naoya paused in his chamber as the walls shuddered at the weight of the conflict blowing up outside.
Screams bled through the silence he had wrapped himself in, carrying the unmistakable crack of bones and the wet snap of flesh torn apart. His fingers tapped against the tatami, a twitch of irritation flashing across his smug features.
"Tch. That worthless wench... Funny though, does that piece of trash think she is Toji?"
Even so, he didn't bother to step in and help his clansmen; instead, he chose to watch and observe from a distance.
Maki surged through the entire compound like a storm.
Her body moved with perfect efficiency, every strike lethal, every motion unyielding.
Some would try to stand up to her. She ducked under the arc of a blade, her elbow smashing into a jaw, shattering it instantly.
She then turned to drive her knee into another man's ribs, bones splintering beneath skin from the impact.
The corridors were quickly engulfed in rivers of blood.
For every sorcerer who tried to halt her, two more fell before they could even breathe. Heavenly Restriction carried her beyond human limits, muscles coiled with power enough to crush stone.
A spear shattered in her grip like a twig, and its wielder was sent crashing through a wall from the force of her counterattack.
From a high balcony, Naoya leaned on the railing, eyes narrowed as he watched the carnage unfold below. The lanternlight flickered against his grin, twisted and arrogant.
"Pathetic. They let her walk through them like paper. Zen'in blood wasted on cowards. If she thinks tearing down the fodder makes her strong, then let her come to me. I'll remind her who carries the true pride of this clan."
The arcs that her sword made seemed to cut through sound itself as they turned people to pieces in seconds.
But it was not only strength that guided her. It was rage, sharpened by guilt. Every scream reminded her of Mai's silence, every face twisted in fear mirrored her father's smug dismissal.
"You… did this to her!" she snarled, snapping another neck with a clean twist. "You let it happen! You let her be treated like nothing!"
Blood painted her hands, her clothes, the very walls of the home that had shackled her for so long.
Members of the Kamo clan fell next. Mai's so-called husband, a man who had taken advantage of her defenseless state, dared to confront her with his clansmen at his back.
His hands were covered in gloves made out of blood as he moved to clash with Maki in a panic.
He barely managed a scream before her fist caved in his chest, ribs tearing through flesh as he collapsed in a broken heap.
The clansmen behind him were no more than training dummies before her wrath, ripped apart with the same efficiency she brought to their masters.
By the time her rampage slowed, the halls were silent but for the sound of dripping blood.
Outside the compound, the ground trembled.
An earthen wall rose high, encircling the estate in a seamless barrier. The structure was immense, fused and reinforced with cursed energy until it gleamed faintly in the night.
Mahito's clone lingered in the shadows, lips curved in amusement as it observed the carnage within. His creation's technique molded the earth itself into a barrier, but it was Mahito's energy coursing through it that gave the wall its overwhelming strength.
A cage. A stage. A fortress.
'How quaint,' Mahito mused through the clone, his amusement echoing. 'She's painting the walls with her family's blood, all while drowning herself... There has to be something entertaining about watching such a show.'
He cared not why Maki started tearing through her clan, nor did he care about Mai's fate. In the end, he did what he knew best... Collecting the dying that Maki left behind.
His Fly Soldiers blanketed the sky, swooping in and collecting them at great speeds. Each one was brought over to Mahito to assess and turn into smaller transfigured totems, later to be combined into something greater.
Most of the ones she fought were left to die on the ground, with bones puncturing organs. Their souls would be put to good use, and their bloodlines could even awaken under Mahito's technique.
Inside, Maki stood over the ruins of the clan that had tormented her. Her chest heaved, blood dripping from her knuckles, her face shadowed.
Yet when her gaze returned to Mai, lying still and unresponsive, the fury ebbed into something darker.
Guilt.
She had carved a path through every obstacle, destroyed the very foundations of her clan.
But none of it had undone what had been done to her sister. None of it had protected Mai from suffering.
Her hands trembled as she reached out to brush Mai's cheek, her voice hoarse.
"I'm sorry… I should have been here sooner."
The words echoed against the earthen walls that sealed them all inside, carrying on the blood-soaked air.
Above, Mahito's smile lingered, as he noticed something else welling up within Maki, something useful... Anger, not at the already dead Zen'in Clan, but at those who had held her back.
The Zen'in Clan was finished. But the matter was not done just yet.
Naoya adjusted his robes, ignoring the stink of blood seeping through the compound. His confidence never wavered.
"Maki, Maki, Maki… always barking, always swinging that strength around like it means something. You think killing weaklings makes you special? You think you've surpassed me?" His lips curled. "No. All you've done is save me the effort of purging this family of weaklings myself. Now all that's left is to put the dog down."
Naoya, the self-proclaimed Clan Head, immediately rushed in, his bloodlust rolling off as indignation filled his gaze.
The night was only beginning.