The city of the Crow Clan stretched at the foot of the mountain, built in restrained, orderly lines. Dark tiled roofs formed a disciplined succession above narrow streets, and the blackened wooden façades spoke of careful maintenance. A thin mist lingered between the buildings, not obscuring visibility but softening the edges. Red lanterns hanging from storefronts cast a muted glow—sufficient, yet without warmth.
At the arrival of the imperial party, activity did not cease. It adjusted. Passersby shifted their paths slightly to clear the way, conversations lowered in volume, gestures slowed briefly before resuming. No one bowed. No one turned away abruptly.
They were simply given space.
Lily noticed the precision of the behavior. Eyes settled briefly on the Empress—never more than a few seconds—before sliding elsewhere. There was no visible hostility, nor admiration. Only a swift assessment, followed by measured withdrawal.
The twins, however, remained tense. The lack of a clear reaction unsettled them. The silence was too uniform, the restraint too consistent. They moved forward ready to intervene, yet nothing came.
Anastasia quickly understood that the atmosphere was not born of fear. It was the result of collective discipline. She was received as an external sovereign, not as a natural presence.
Everyone knew she was there. And she, in turn, knew she was being observed.
At the turn of a narrower side street, slightly removed from the main path, an elderly woman sat on a low stool against a dark wooden wall. Before her, several carefully woven straw hats were arranged on a mat, along with oil-paper umbrellas and simple items meant for travelers.
She merely lifted her eyes toward Anastasia, her attention measured. Her gaze was neither provocative nor submissive. It was lucid, steady—evaluating.
Guül slowed immediately, wary. Gaäl stepped forward, ready to remove the obstacle if necessary. The old woman showed no reaction to their tension. She addressed the Empress directly, her voice calm and perfectly audible.
"The wind is treacherous on the mountain. A head covering would be wise."
The silence that followed was not heavy, but dense. The twins exchanged a brief look; the boldness of the remark seemed improper. Gaäl parted his lips to intervene, but Anastasia raised her hand slightly, stopping him.
She observed the vendor for a few seconds longer, analyzing her posture, her tone, the absence of tremor.
The old woman continued without raising her voice:
"The heights offer a wider view. But they expose more than the plains."
This time, the message was explicit. It was not commercial advice. It was strategic.
Anastasia understood the subtext immediately. Climbing meant accepting visibility—being assessed, tested. The Crow Clan did not conceal its intentions; it expressed them with restraint.
Without another word, she selected one of the hats and placed the appropriate payment on the mat. The gesture was not born of necessity. It acknowledged that the exchange had been understood.
As she walked away, she did not look back. Yet she knew the old woman was no ordinary vendor. Her presence at that precise location served a broader function—an observer integrated into the clan's structure.
Lily, having perceived the same nuance, gave a slight nod. The twins remained wary. They preferred declared adversaries to subtle warnings.
The density of buildings gradually thinned as they moved away from the city center. Stalls gave way to more spaced houses, then to simple stone walls lining a widened path. Conversations faded behind them, replaced by the steady sound of their steps and the faint rustling of wind against the rooftops.
The path finally opened onto a wide esplanade at the direct base of the mountain. Before them stood an immense black torii gate, its structure dominating the entrance to the main trail. The wood was massive, reinforced with metal plates engraved with outstretched crows. Thick ropes hung between the pillars, adorned with small bells that chimed faintly in the wind.
Beyond the archway began a broad, impeccably maintained stone staircase rising in a straight line before gradually disappearing into the mist. The steps were even, uncracked. Nothing suggested haste or neglect. Everything suggested deliberate construction.
The twins lifted their eyes toward the unseen summit. No guard stood at the entrance. No soldiers monitored the approach. The absence of visible security was too deliberate to be accidental.
"Not a single man in sight," Guül remarked quietly.
Anastasia studied the arch, then the mist-veiled heights. She detected no agitation, no hurried movement. The mechanism was not visible—but it was present. She was certain of it.
They had no need for visible guards.
The mountain itself served as a filter. Those who climbed did so willingly. And those permitted to reach the summit had already been allowed to do so before placing a single foot on the first step.
Anastasia moved toward the staircase without hesitation. Lily followed at once. The twins exchanged one last glance before positioning themselves behind her.
The ascent began.
The steps followed one another in steady silence, broken only by the sound of feet against stone. The mist lingered around them, limiting sight without hindering movement. No obstacle appeared. No presence revealed itself. The higher they climbed, the clearer the air became.
After a long ascent, the staircase opened onto the summit plateau. The mist gradually receded, revealing the full domain. It was not a fortified castle, nor a structure meant to impress by height alone.
At the center stood a larger main pavilion, built upon a slightly elevated platform. Its sliding walls were open on several sides, leaving the interior visible from outside. Evenly spaced pillars supported the structure without heaviness. The entire domain was arranged with precision, each building connected by carefully aligned walkways.
They crossed an arched wooden bridge spanning a circular lake. The water was calm, and several white and red carp moved slowly beneath the surface. The main pavilion reflected clearly upon the water. Lily briefly surveyed the surroundings, attentive to detail. Guül scanned the banks. Gaäl kept his focus on the entrance.
The bridge led directly to a broad wooden platform. Two rows of attendants in black kimono stood waiting, motionless. The feather patterns embroidered on the fabric were visible only at close range. They bowed with measured precision.
One stepped forward.
"The Empress is expected."
Her voice was clear, without inflection. She added that the Empress was to proceed alone.
Guül and Gaäl reacted immediately, stepping in front of Anastasia. The wood of the bridge creaked faintly under their movement. The attendants did not move.
Anastasia raised her hand.
"It's fine."
The twins withdrew reluctantly. Lily remained silent, observing carefully.
Anastasia crossed the threshold alone.
The interior consisted of open corridors bordered by sliding panels. Stone gardens and shallow basins occupied central spaces. The path was direct and continuous. The attendants walked ahead of her at an even distance, never turning back.
The corridor gradually widened before opening onto a set of double sliding doors. The attendants stopped a few steps from the threshold. One slid the panel aside with deliberate slowness, revealing the open space beyond.
Anastasia stepped through.
The terrace overlooked the entire region. From that height, the lower city and the lake they had crossed moments earlier were clearly visible. The wind moved freely, lifting fabric lightly and stirring the wooden structures without destabilizing them.
At the center stood a low wooden table facing the landscape. Two cushions were placed opposite each other, aligned with precision.
A woman was already seated.
She wore a black kimono embroidered with subtle crimson patterns, visible only upon closer inspection. Her black hair fell straight down her back, smooth and orderly. Two slender, elegant horns framed her forehead without excess. Her red eyes settled on Anastasia immediately, without hesitation.
Her posture was perfectly straight, hands resting naturally on her knees. She showed no tension, no impatience. She simply observed.
She did not rise.
She did not bow.
She remained seated.
A brief flutter of wings broke the silence. A crow landed on the railing behind her, motionless, its head slightly tilted.
Anastasia stopped at a measured distance from the table, studying the woman with the same discipline she applied to a battlefield.
Ismerya Noirvalen Kuronokami.
Direct descendant of the former Demon King, head of the Crow Clan, and leader of the conservative faction within the Empire.
So this is why I fear this clan.
Ismerya slightly raised her chin without standing. Her red gaze remained steady and precise.
She spoke first, her voice soft, deep, perfectly controlled.
"So you have finally arrived, Empress."
Anastasia stepped forward and took her seat opposite Ismerya. The movement was direct, without hesitation.
She placed her hands on her knees and met her gaze.
This is my first true battle in this world.
A brief silence passed.
"I hope I have not kept you waiting too long," Anastasia said calmly.
An attendant stepped forward with measured precision and poured tea into the two cups before withdrawing without a sound.
This time, neither of them hesitated.
Anastasia lifted her cup first. Ismerya followed a heartbeat later.
They drank slowly.
Their gazes remained locked above the rim of porcelain, steady, unreadable. The wind moved lightly across the terrace, carrying no sound other than the faint brush of fabric.
When the cups were lowered and placed back upon the table, the air no longer felt neutral.
Courtesy had ended.
The real exchange was about to begin.