Although the upper echelons of Inazuma had long been corroded by greed and rot, none of that truly mattered now.
For the Raiden Shogun, this was not an obstacle. She was the god of the nation. If she acted decisively, Inazuma would return to order instantly. In her domain, the will of the god was absolute.
The Tri-Commission may have schemed and grown arrogant, but as long as she unsheathed her blade, their authority crumbled before her thunder. Narukami Taisha, the Kujo clan of the Tenryou Commission, and the other great houses all bent to her will when she demanded it.
But Mathew reminded her that not all nations were so fortunate.
"Look at Sumeru," he said. "For five hundred years their Archon has been imprisoned, yet their scholars and rulers remain silent. Even the so-called brilliant minds, like Alhaitham, never fought for their god—they only acted when their own lives were disrupted. That is rot from top to bottom."
The Raiden Shogun's voice hardened. "Then I shall kill the corrupt. Cut down every moth that eats away at eternity. They are my eternal enemies." Murderous lightning began to crackle across her body. She reached for her naginata, ready to storm the Tri-Commission chambers and purge them in one sweeping massacre.
But Mathew's voice rang out, firm and golden. "No."
The radiance of his Heavenly Ring flared, halting her fury. His eyes glowed with authority.
"It is too easy to kill them outright. A ruler must judge their crimes before the people. If you slaughter them in silence, resentment will remain. But if you expose their corruption publicly, and deliver justice openly, then the people's hatred will be cleansed with your blade."
The Shogun paused. His words struck deeper than she expected. Killing was simple. Governing was not.
"And consider this," Mathew continued. "If you kill Kujo Takayuki today, what of tomorrow? Will his heir—Kujo Hitomasa or another—simply inherit his title and repeat the same corruption? This system of hereditary privilege is absurd. Should a family live in eternal luxury simply because their ancestor fought at your side in conquest?"
The Shogun's eyes narrowed. She hated to admit it, but the truth was undeniable.
"I suggest you seek counsel from your kin," Mathew said. "Yae Miko is clever and unflinching. Bring her to the Castle Tower. And summon Kamisato Ayato as well. When the moths are purged, someone must guide the people back to stability. Ayato has the discipline and cunning for that."
His gaze lifted, piercing the stormy sky above. "Once Inazuma is back on the right track, I will construct the World Gate at Narukami Taisha. That gate will lead to the world of Demon Slayer. Through annexation, Teyvat's endurance will grow, and the poisoned earth veins and rampant spirits here will be quelled."
The Shogun inhaled slowly, forcing down the urge to strike now. Her killing intent ebbed, tempered by Mathew's command.
"…Very well. I will summon her. Miko has always been clever, even as a child."
For the first time, guilt flickered in her chest. She thought of the five hundred years of suffering under her watch. The starving peasants. The corrupted lands. The wandering spirits. This was not only the Tri-Commission's fault—it was her own dereliction as a god.
And yet, unlike the cold laws of Phanes, Mathew had not condemned Inazuma with a Nail of Cold Sky. He had given her a chance to make amends.
For that, she felt gratitude amidst her shame.
The Kamisato Estate – Tea Room
Kamisato Ayato knelt in the tea room, listening to Yae Miko's words with growing confusion.
"The Guuji has told us," Yae Miko said softly, "that catastrophe may soon befall Inazuma. She urges the Kamisato clan to prepare some of its people to leave the nation."
Ayato frowned. His calm, calculating demeanor faltered for once. "Catastrophe? I respect the Guuji's foresight, but… I cannot understand such a vague warning. And besides, Inazuma is under the direct protection of the Raiden Shogun. Who could possibly threaten it? Even if we wished to send people away, the lockdown makes it impossible."
Miko only sighed, her eyes half-lidded, her smile carrying the usual edge of mischief. "You think I speak without reason? I do not act without aim, Ayato. There are forces at play you cannot imagine."
Ayato tilted his head, still unconvinced. "Liyue? Mondstadt? Surely not. Then what disaster are you warning of?"
Miko's fox ears twitched. Her lips curved in faint annoyance. She could hardly confess that she had seen the Shogun herself unravel under erosion, that she suspected even eternity had cracks. She could not speak of Mathew, the new law of heaven.
"Forget it," she finally said with a sigh, rising gracefully. "Perhaps I worry too much. Think of it as a fox's superstition, nothing more."
Ayato bowed slightly. "If there is ever anything I can do, Guuji, I will lend my hand."
But she only shook her head. He was brilliant, but still human. There were some matters beyond him.
Just as she prepared to leave, thunder rolled unnaturally, and a familiar voice rang through the tea room.
"Miko. Come to the Castle Tower. And bring Ayato with you."
Miko froze, her ears twitching. For an instant, her sharp tongue failed her. Then she chuckled bitterly. "At last… she remembers me. After all these centuries hiding in her puppet, she finally calls for me. Even if I died, would she have noticed?"
Her eyes softened with a pain only centuries of abandonment could bring. She had been loyal, diligent, keeping Narukami Taisha strong, suppressing corruption, tending to the spiritual balance of Narukami Island. She had done her duty. But her god—her dearest friend—had hidden away.
Still, hearing that voice again stirred a warmth in her chest.
Narukami Taisha – Summons
Within moments, Miko stood tall. "Very well. I will come. And you, Ayato, will accompany me."
Ayato blinked, startled. But he bowed without hesitation. "Yes, Lady Guuji."
Though his mind whirled, his discipline held. To be summoned directly by the Shogun herself… it meant something far beyond routine matters.
Miko's tails swished as she glanced back at him with her usual sly grin. "Do not pretend to be calm, little Ayato. I can smell your nerves."
He only smiled politely, but she knew she was right.
Together, they made their way to Inazuma Castle.
The Castle Tower
When they arrived, the sight that met them shocked them both.
The Raiden Shogun knelt before her desk, the weight of thunder cloaking her like a mantle. Her expression was cold, sharper than any storm. She was reading reports—those carefully guarded documents only she herself was meant to see.
But what truly startled them was the young man beside her. He stood casually at her side, his hands folded behind his back, reading the same reports as if he were her equal.
Ayato's eyes widened. For anyone to peer at the Shogun's private documents was a grave transgression. For the Shogun to allow it was unthinkable. Yet here this stranger stood—relaxed, calm, even amused.
And the Shogun did not rebuke him.
Who was he, to stand so boldly in the storm's shadow?
Miko's sharp eyes narrowed. She recognized something in his aura—an authority that was not mortal, not even divine, but greater still.
The Raiden Shogun lifted her gaze to them. She suppressed the fury boiling within her, her face a mask of composure.
"Miko. Ayato. You are here."