The scene shifted to a dim cave high on the mountain. Shadows danced along jagged walls as Yura Takeda sat cross-legged, flanked by Equa Rome and Auransa. The air was cold and damp, carrying a faint echo of dripping water.
"I've sent Ryuki to deliver the letter to our allies," Yura said, his eyes glinting in the torchlight.
Auransa tilted her head. "Did you tell her how to recognize who our allies are?"
Yura smirked. "The ones with yellow-dyed hair… they're on our side."
Auransa raised an eyebrow. "And where is that female samurai of yours?"
"She's already on her way to break Orimo Kuzan out of prison," Yura replied calmly.
Meanwhile, in the depths of the prison, Orimo trained relentlessly. His mantra flared around him like a living shadow, black and deep, absorbing the faint light of the cell. Sweat poured down his face, his muscles burning with every motion as he pushed the limits of his strength.
He advanced beyond basic mantra, reaching toward the elusive realm of Kings Mantra—the legendary technique that could elevate him to a level rivaling Morgan Tarek himself. Each strike and movement left echoes in the stone floor, the shadows bending and recoiling with his growing power.
Orimo knew the war was coming. When the time came to face Ryujin Hibuko—Morgan Tarek—the world itself would tremble beneath their clash.