"Everyone, stand down."
Yanagi Fuyuka's voice cut cleanly through the chaos.
As head of the family, she had already discreetly activated the artifact she carried. What it showed left no room for doubt. There was no corpse aura. No trace of ghosts, curses, or anything unnatural. Instead, what radiated from the figure standing in the coffin was a dense, unmistakable surge of living power.
At her command, the clan members lowered their talismans, compasses, and ritual blades, though none of them dared relax completely.
Rowan stepped lightly out of the coffin, his mind racing. Being alive again after seven days in a box was not something one explained casually. Fortunately, Amagiri Rōen's memories surfaced just in time, offering him a plausible thread to pull.
"Grand-uncle," Yanagi Fuyuka said as she approached, confusion plain on her face. "What… exactly happened to you?"
She had been there when he passed. Ninety-eight years old, bedridden, barely able to breathe during his final months. His death had been beyond dispute.
Yet now he stood upright. His hair was still white, but his complexion was healthy, his posture firm, his movements fluid. It was as if decades had quietly been returned to him.
The hall fell silent. More than three hundred direct and collateral members of the family were present, spanning generations so widely that some great-grandchildren were older than their uncles. To most of them, Amagiri Rōen was not merely an elder.
He was the ancestor.
Rowan cleared his throat and adopted a reflective expression.
"To be honest," he said slowly, "I didn't expect this myself. When my last breath left me, I thought that was the end. But in that final moment, as I looked back on my life and the teachings I had studied, something… shifted."
He paused deliberately.
"It felt as though I became part of the world itself. When I woke again, I was already here."
"…An awakening?" someone whispered.
The older members of the clan stiffened. Eyes widened. A ripple of disbelief spread through the hall.
The ancient texts spoke of such moments. Rare, legendary states where understanding surpassed technique. Those who reached them were said to gain insight, longevity, and power far beyond ordinary practitioners. Some stories claimed lifespans of centuries.
In modern times, such tales were usually dismissed as allegory.
Except there was one exception.
Clow Reed.
The greatest magician in recorded history. A man with deep ties to their bloodline. Rumored to have reached precisely such a state, though never confirmed.
If awakening could explain resurrection, then everything suddenly made sense.
Almost.
Yanagi Fuyuka swallowed. "Grand-uncle… are you saying you truly reached that state?"
For the family, this was no small matter. Someone who achieved such insight, regardless of prior strength, would become a pillar strong enough to anchor an entire lineage.
Rowan nodded calmly. "I can't say everything has settled yet. But my power has grown, and my understanding is… clearer than before."
He stepped out into the courtyard.
Raising one hand, he spoke with quiet authority.
"Answer me."
The sky darkened.
Clouds rolled in over the city, vast and heavy, streaked with crawling arcs of lightning. Thunder churned overhead, vast enough to blanket the skyline, as if the heavens themselves had leaned closer to listen.
A collective gasp tore through the courtyard.
Yanagi Fuyuka and every member of the family stared upward, breath caught in their throats.
This was not a display. This was domination.
For a single, crystal-clear moment, the same thought echoed through every mind present.
So this is what awakening looks like.
Rowan lowered his hand. The clouds dispersed as quickly as they had gathered, leaving behind a clear sky and a stunned silence.
He glanced back at the frozen faces and allowed himself a quiet breath.
That should do it.
In truth, he hadn't used this world's arts at all. The technique belonged to another realm entirely, reshaped just enough to pass as something native.
But the effect was real.
And the message unmistakable.