By Shawn Carman and Rich Wulf

Toshi Ranbo, one year ago

It was rare for the Emperor to attend court at certain times of year. In preparation for Winter Court, for example, the Emperor generally retreated from the public eye and made plans for traveling, putting his affairs in order with the knowledge that he would be absent from the capitol for some months. Many attendants of the Imperial Court were likewise absent at such times, making preparations for their own travels. So it came as a surprise to many when the Emperor convened his court at noon on an autumn day. Most were eager at the notion of fewer competitors for the Emperor’s attention, thoughts of gaining his favor for their interests blossoming like flowers in the spring. A Crane courtier was presenting a thoroughly uninteresting request to the Emperor for sanction on new border agreements between the Lion and Crane Clans when the doors to the chamber burst open with a report like thunder.

The Seppun formed a protective half-circle around the Emperor in the span of a heartbeat, one roughly knocking the Crane courtier aside in the process. Naseru stood quickly, a steel fan in hand, his face unconcerned. Courtiesr scattered from the doorway as a man clad in orange robes strode through and knelt. A white porcelain mask hung from his belt. “Please forgive my impatience, my Emperor. I could not wait to be announced, and your attendants were reluctant to admit me.”

“This is most unorthodox, Sezaru,” the Emperor observed. He regarded his brother with a thoughtful expression and sank back into his throne.

“I must speak with you in private immediately,” Sezaru pressed. “Please.”

A distressed murmur passed through the court. Some courtiers seemed worried at what could distress the Wolf so greatly. Most merely looked offended by the man’s lack of adherence to protocol.

The Emperor turned to the room. “Leave us,” he commanded.

Even as the courtiers filed out and the guardsmen retreated to the door, an old man in Seppun robes stepped forward, casting a wary eye at Sezaru. “Are you certain, my Emperor?”

“Yes, Toshiaki,” Naseru answered. “We require privacy.”

The old man seemed reluctant. “It is most difficult for the Hidden Guard to protect you if you deny us access, my lord.”

Naseru’s gaze grew stern. “I have nothing to fear from my brother, Toshiaki,” he said quietly. “And despite the power you and your students wield, I find it difficult to imagine you could stop Sezaru in any event. Leave us now.”

Toshiaki’s frown deepened, but he bowed deeply and left without another word. Naseru turned back to Sezaru. “What has happened?” he asked simply.

Sezaru rose, a grim expression on his features. “The Phoenix have discovered a plot by the Bloodspeakers that threatens the entire Empire.”

“The Bloodspeakers.” Naseru frowned. “I had received reports of increased activity on their part of late. What have they done?”

“They have kidnapped the last Ki-Rin,” Sezaru explained. “I believe they plan to sacrifice it and use its divine spirit to power some dark ritual.”

“What sort of ritual?” the Emperor asked.

Sezaru was silent a long moment. “I cannot be certain.”

“Speculate,” Naseru hissed.

“The Ki-Rin possesses great power and purity,” Sezaru said. “With its murder, the Bloodspeakers could unleash immeasurable devastation. The possible manners in which their attack may manifest are countless.”

“So there is no way to prepare,” Naseru said, “and a warning would serve no purpose other than to cause general panic.”

“My conclusion was the same,” Sezaru said bleakly. “This was part of the reason I desired privacy. Yet, there is more.”

“Tell me,” Naseru said. His face paled as he sensed the sudden gravity in his brother’s words.

Sezaru drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “I pursued the truth of this matter myself before bringing it to your attention,” he said. “My interrogation of captured Bloodspeakers has revealed a most sinister secret.” He paused for a moment, as if unsure how to proceed. Finally, he shook his head. “Iuchiban has escaped his tomb. The Bloodspeaker has returned.”

For only the third time in Sezaru’s life, he saw what appeared to be fear flicker across his younger brother’s face. He knew Naseru too well to mistake it for personal horror; the only thing that truly struck fear in the Emperor was that which could threaten his Empire.

“Iuchiban,” Naseru said flatly. He did not question the veracity of Sezaru’s claim. He knew better. “Then we face most difficult times ahead.”

“Yes,” Sezaru agreed. “And very soon.”

“How long do we have before this ritual takes place?” Naseru asked.

Sezaru lowered his head. “Perhaps an hour,” he said. For the first time Naseru noticed the caked mud and snowflakes that covered the hem of Sezaru’s robe. He might have been in the Phoenix woodlands no less than an hour ago, spirited here by his magic as soon as he learned the truth. “The Phoenix have begun their own rituals to protect their lands from any magical attack, but there is no means to extend the spell to the rest of the Empire so quickly. I believe I can, however, protect the Palace.”

Naseru shook his head. “What will happen to the rest of the Empire when we do not even know what Iuchiban plans?”

Sezaru said nothing.

“This is unacceptable,” Naseru said. “Is there nothing to be done?”

“No,” Sezaru answered. “I can to warn you, and to protect you.” He stepped forward and lifted his hand, his palm facing toward Naseru as he began to whisper words of prayer. In the distance, the rumble of distant thunder could be heard. A storm was swiftly approaching.

“When this is done,” Naseru said, “There will be much work to be done – for both of us.”

“Yes, my brother,” Sezaru repeated.

It was many hours later when Sezaru returned to the Imperial City. He appeared in the Emperor’s private chambers with no fanfare, as he had been asked to do. The wards the Hidden Guard had placed upon the chambers created an uncomfortable pressure when he did so, but it lasted only a moment as the spirits sensed his Imperial blood. Regardless, the wards would need to be strengthened. He would see to that.

Naseru stood on his balcony, gazing down on the streets below. There was smoke in the air again, as there had been only months ago during the terrible fires. A gentle rain was falling, washing away the red stains upon the streets that were visible even from this distance. Sezaru could hear the distant whispers of the air and water kami, and knew that shugenja had summoned this storm to wash away the blood.

Sezaru had made no sound, but the Emperor knew he had arrived nonetheless. “You can cross the Empire in a moment,” he said quietly. “Tell me what news you bring.”

“The losses we have suffered are considerable,” Sezaru admitted. “The Phoenix appear to have been the least affected, but even we have lost much. The City of Remembrance burns as we speak, though it will be rebuilt. The Dragon scour the mountains for those who fell to the rain. The Crab burn the bodies of those who died upon the Wall at the hands of their brothers.” He stopped for a moment, trying to find a way to express the horrors he had seen. “Even when we rode to the City of the Lost, I have never seen such horror,” he finally said, folding his hands in his sleeves.

“I expected no less.” Naseru turned to face his brother. “I am no soldier, but I recognize an opening strike when I see it. Our enemy wishes us to be afraid, to believe we are powerless to fight him. If Iuchiban has returned as you say, then this is but the beginning. He sows chaos among my people so that we cannot mount a proper attack against him.” A wry smile crossed his features briefly. “He has failed before.”

“Perhaps he has learned from previous mistakes,” Sezaru replied.

“Then we shall find new ways to destroy him,” Naseru answered.

“His followers will be flush with their success,” Sezaru noted. “They will be arrogant and foolish in the days that follow. This is the time to seek them out.”

“Agreed,” Naseru nodded. He held forth a scroll bearing his personal seal to his older brother. “I have authorized you to commandeer whatever resources you desire to combat the Bloodspeakers. Anything you require is yours. In particular, all shugenja in Rokugan are commanded to offer their magical aid in your hunt. Even the Jade Champion is subject to you in this.”

Sezaru accepted the scroll with a bow, a dark look crossing his features. He felt an old, familiar sense of exhilaration at the notion of pursing his foes, but at the same time there was reservation deep within his soul. “This is a great responsibility, my brother,” he said.

“Are you unprepared to accept it?”

“I am prepared,” Sezaru said softly. “I only urge you to question whether you have made the right choice.”

Naseru walked in a slow circle around his brother, seeming to ponder these words. Finally, he rested one hand upon Sezaru’s shoulder. “I know that you have made piece with whatever demons plagued you for so many years, brother,” he observed quietly. “I know that you have embraced peace and mercy since Tsudao’s death. But I also know that you are loyal, and I know the power that burns within you. I must call upon that power now, to destroy our enemies. I realize the risk that you take, Sezaru,” the Emperor paused for a long moment, “and I am sorry.”

“I will do anything you ask of my, Naseru,” Sezaru said. “I am yours to command, now and always. No matter the cost. I only hope that in your eagerness to destroy Iuchiban you do not create a greater enemy.”

Naseru smiled somewhat. “I see the strength within you, brother. I have faith that you can bear the burden. Our sister guides us still. She will not let you fail.”

Sezaru smiled, comforted by his brother’s words.

“Find them,” Naseru commanded. “Find the ones who did this. Punish them. Offer them no mercy other than a quick death… and even that at your discretion.”

Sezaru took the mask from his obi, the mask he wore only in battle. He placed it upon his face, his eyes seeming to harden into flecks of steel as he did so. His stance became more rigid. His hands balled into knotted fists. It was as if he had become a different man.

“As you command, my Emperor,” Sezaru said in a hollow voice.

Near Kyuden Isawa, six months ago

The rustling from the doorway did not arouse Sezaru’s interest. His attendants had long ago abandoned the endless bowing and scraping every time they entered his offices. It had been a difficult habit for them to break, of course, but he had ordered them to come and go without disturbing him. When there was no further sound from the new arrival, Sezaru still did not look up from his writing. “Is there a problem with the new shipment?” he asked somewhat irritably.

“Not that I am aware of, Sezaru-sama,” an unfamiliar voice answered.

Sezaru looked up in surprise to find a gruff-looking shugenja standing beside the door, arms folded neatly into the voluminous sleeves of his green robes. The Crane mon was emblazoned across his shoulders, and on his breast he wore the chrysanthemum, the Emperor’s mark, brilliantly colored in the brightest shade of green. “Asahina Sekawa,” he said rising from his desk. “This is an unexpected honor.”

“The honor is mine,” Sekawa replied, although his tone did not match his words. “I hope that I am not interrupting your work.”

“I will always have time for the Jade Champion,” Sezaru answered politely. He had crossed the small chamber to bow deeply before Sekawa, who returned the gesture. “How may I be of service?”

Sekawa’s expression was pensive, bringing the scar on his cheek into sharp relief. “I am aware that you have commandeered personnel that serve in my Jade Legion,” he finally said after a moment of silence. “I also know this is at the Emperor’s command. Will you be relieving me of my duties? There is much you will need to know if so.”

Sezaru could not keep the surprise from his face. “Relieved of your duties? What manner of question is that? I have no such intent.”

“I am Jade Champion,” Sekawa replied, no relief evident on his face. “It falls to me to protect the Empire’s spirit just as the Emerald Champion defends its laws. The Bloodspeakers are my responsibility. If the Emperor feels I am not sufficient to the task, then obviously I have failed.”

Sezaru raised an eyebrow. “So greedy, Sekawa,” he replied. “Hoarding all the blame to yourself. If you are so eager to assign blame, then why not blame every magistrate, legionnaire, and Emperor since the second fall of Iuchiban?” he said with a flourish. “Should they not have eradicated the Bloodspeakers long before you were born? Why not blame every samurai who failed to protect the Emperor from this threat? Why not blame the Emperor himself for failing to protect his people. Your guilt is noble, but foolish. I offer you help because help is needed. There is no shame in accepting aid, Sekawa.”

“If I am foolish, then perhaps it is because I am a fool,” Sekawa retorted, a sudden edge to his voice. “What have I achieved since my appointment? Nothing. I failed to stop Daigotsu’s rampage upon Otosan Uchi, and now the Bloodspeakers have struck a mortal blow against the Empire.” His face twisted in an expression that told Sezaru volumes about his self-loathing. “My sister would be ashamed of me.”

Sezaru’s expression was devoid of emotion. “Did you come all this way to blather on about your disgust over your own inadequacies? Did you come to proclaim your sorrow over your sister’s death?”

Sekawa’s eyes narrowed. “I am not accustomed to being spoken to in such a tone.”

“As my brother’s Champion, I hope that you are not,” Sezaru said, returning to his desk. “But you are indeed being ridiculous. I am well aware of what matters have occupied your time over the past two years, and I consider the boy’s future well worth your attention.”

Sekawa’s eyes widened, surprised at Sezaru’s knowledge. He said nothing.

“So why do you come to me now, bleating over your failures?” Sezaru demanded. “Do you believe you are the only one whose path has been difficult?” Sezaru leaned closer. “Are you the only man in this Empire who has lost family to the Shadowlands?” Sezaru’s face hardened.

Sekawa did not look away. “Of course not,” he said.

“Daigotsu has murdered my father and my sister,” Sezaru hissed. “How easy it would be for me to stand aside and let Iuchiban destroy him? You must have thought the same thing.”

Sekawa nodded.

“Yet your magistrates fight on,” Sezaru said.

“As well as they can,” Sekawa said, his voice a low growl.

“Then we can do no less,” Sezaru said. “We were both men of peace once. Circumstances have made us men of war. We can only fail if we do not see the battle to its end.”

“But a soldier cannot obey two generals at once,” Sekawa countered. “My men are used to following me. The Emperor’s proclamations have sown doubt in my leadership. I think perhaps I hoped you truly intended to undermine me… for if you officially denounced me as a failure then at least my magistrates would no longer doubt. They would follow you at our Emperor’s command.”

“So that is your true concern? That conflict between us will breed uncertainty among our allies?” Sezaru asked.

Sekawa nodded.

“Then the solution is simple enough,” Sezaru replied. “Make our duties as one. Help me in rooting out the Bloodspeakers and my mission shall be complete.”

“Very well,” Sekawa said, bowing sharply. “The Jade Champions are at your command. If I may be of service you need only inform me. Let us bring these Bloodspeakers their just punishment so that we might both know peace again.”

Sezaru gazed silently at the mask upon his desk, reaching out and touching it with a single finger. “Yes,” he said, “Peace.”

But in the deepest recesses of his mind, there was no peace. The temple fell silent as Sekawa withdrew, but deep within his soul Sezaru heard a hollow, mocking laughter.

The Northern Wall Mountains, three months ago

Sezaru and his inquisitors had ruthlessly hunted Bloodspeakers for months before they finally discovered the information they felt would lead them to a major strike against the cult. A cell leader captured in the Lion lands had, after lengthy interrogation, confessed that there was to be a gathering of many prominent Bloodspeakers in the mountains far to the north. The goal was uncertain, but Sezaru was certain it was a prequel to some new attack. The thought of a decisive victory against the cult was intoxicating, and Sezaru was eager for the opportunity to bring hope back to the people of Rokugan. He gathered a force of his finest shugenja and made plans to strike.

The Bloodspeakers had been a veritable army, nearly ten times larger than what Sezaru had anticipated. Most of the troops were undead. Sezaru had long suspected Iuchiban’s armies had left caches of corpses buried throughout the Empire for later animation and use, but now there was no doubt. He had ordered his forces to withdraw, unwilling to engage in such a confrontation. Unfortunately, his forces had been attacked by a smaller group of Bloodspeakers attempting to reach the main body, and the cultists’ leaders had been alerted to his presence. Either by design or circumstance, Sezaru and his men were pinned in the mountains, attacked by a far more sizeable force. The Wolf would not abandon his men, but did not have the power to return them all the Phoenix lands so swiftly. Any left behind would be dead in moments.

Sezaru cursed himself for a fool as an outcropping of rock exploded to his left. A shout came from the left flank as another wave of cultists rushed toward them. These, at least, were living foes. With the waves coming every few minutes for some time now, he had already lost many of his best men, with more falling with each new wave. Worse, he could sense that there was at least one extremely powerful maho-tsukai among the assembled Bloodspeakers, one whose power was such that Sezaru’s protective wards offered little protection.

As if on cue, a fountain of black and yellow energy erupted from the Bloodspeakers’ midst and spiraled into his forces, striking a group of samurai not twenty feet to Sezaru’s right. Three men died screaming in a matter of seconds, their flesh and armor melting together into a pool of foul, viscous black sludge. Sezaru could not even spare the energy to offer a prayer.

“Officers, to me!” he shouted, his voice ringing out clearly across the battlefield. A handful of warriors pulled themselves from the battle and stood near him, facing their attackers but listening as attentively as possible under the circumstances. “We cannot stand against this assault much longer,” he said to them. “We may survive, but it is likely most of us will die. One of us must return to the Phoenix and let them know what has happened.”

“Go, Sezaru-sama,” Shinjo Hekirou said without hesitation. “We will hold them long enough.”

“No,” Sezaru insisted. “If I leave, you will all perish. If I remain, there is yet hope. One of you must go.”

Hekirou frowned. “Send Rishimaru, Sezaru-sama. She is swiftest among us.”

The Battle Maiden’s eyes blazed with fury at the suggestion she would be denied battle, but she did not argue. She only looked to Sezaru for his judgment.

“You must reach Kyuden Isawa and inform the council,” Sezaru said. “Can you do this?”

The woman ground her teeth in frustration. “I can, my lord.”

“Then be ready,” he answered. “Officers, prepare your men for an attack.”

The officers scrambled in response as Rishimaru mounted her steed. She fixed him with a sincere nod. To flee the battle was perhaps even more difficult for her than to remain, fight, and die, but she said nothing. There was no need for words.

“Go,” Sezaru commanded. With that, he summoned a wave of fire that erupted outward from his encampment, charring the next wave of cultists even before they reached the shield.

At once, the remaining samurai screamed out in fury and bravado, leaping up from cover and rushing forward without regard for their own safety. Another of the deadly spirals of corrupt energy rose from the Bloodspaker ranks, but this time Sezaru was prepared. He threw his hand out, sending kami by the score to scatter the twisted kansen powering the spell. The spiral dissipated, but the strain was enormous. He sensed a pulse in the elements, as if the world itself was staggered by the clash of conflicting energies.

Sezaru’s forces collided with the Bloodspeakers amid screams on both sides. The samurai were superior combatants, but the cultists and undead cared little for their own well-being, and their numbers were vastly greater. They rushed his men in waves, overwhelming them with the sheer force of their presence. Sezaru leaped into the air, the wind kami buoying him and carrying him above the battle, where he spent precious energy lashing out with ribbons of fire against the front lines, sparing what men he could.

A voice boomed like thunder above the battlefield, and Sezaru saw a distant figure rising on a pillar of blackened earth. “Isawa Sezaru!” he man bellowed, his massive frame seething with corrupt energy. “I am called Mohai and my master sends you a gift! You shall not perish under the weight of the restless dead like your worthless followers, but at my hands!!”

With that, the Bloodspeaker unleashed a massive storm of jagged rocks that tore through the air as if they had been fired from a catapult. Sezaru summoned a shield of shimmering Void, but he had spent much of his energy already. He felt the pressure as some of the stones tore at his clothing and flesh. He hissed in pain behind his mask, but did not falter. He returned the attack with a searing tempest of spirits, a mix of raging wind and holy fire.

Mohai staggered, struggling to maintain his balance in the gale. His flesh blistered but he did not fall. Sezaru prepared a second assault, but at the last moment he saw Mohai’s eyes focus just behind him. Instinctively, Sezaru ended his attack and erected a shield of spirits just as a powerful attack struck from that side. The shield faltered and a massive wave of poisonous green fluid struck him with the force of an avalanche, knocking him from the air and sending him flying into the jagged boulders below. The earth softened beneath him, but the pain was still intense.

“They will call Jama Suru the Wolf Slayer!” a gleeful voice whispered on the wind across the battlefield. “Is this the strongest defender the Toturi Dynasty can claim?” Sezaru looked up to see a gaunt man floating down toward him with a jagged blade in hand, descending quickly for the kill. Even at this distance, the joy on his face was obvious.

Sezaru looked for his troops, but there seemed to be few left. He could make out a small group of them who had formed a circle. Hekirou was there, but he couldn’t make the others out. They would all be dead in a matter of moments. His hope that he could save them had been yet another mistake, and now he would be to blame for their deaths.

A cold, familiar feeling rose in Sezaru’s chest. He had abandoned violence after Tsudao’s death. He had attempted to walk the path of the righteous. Even with his new duties, he had struggled to remain compassionate. And now, none of that mattered. He would die, and so would those that followed him. A dark anger boiled from deep within him.

“We will not die alone, Bloodspeaker,” he said in a voice that did not seem to be his own.

Suru faltered as he approached, an uncertain look in his eye.

Yes, something whispered in Sezaru’s min. End it.

Sezaru closed his eyes and gathered his remaining energy. He whispered a final prayer to the kami. The elements held their breath, and then exploded in a mournful fury around the Wolf. A storm of fire, wind, and void swirled around Sezaru, distorting the image of everything it passed with its power. Stone melted and flowed like mud. Cultists caught were incinerated in an instant. Jama Suru quickly pulled away as the fires scorched his body but Mohai was not as quick. The heat seared the flesh from the massive tsukai’s bones before his scream died on the wind, then the bones were gone as well.

The wave extended outward, leaving only silence and cinders in its wake. Sezaru struggled to remain standing, but his wounds and exhaustion were too great. He slumped to the ground, his hands and knees only barely supporting him. He was surprised to even find he was alive. He closed his eyes and prayed for the good men and women who had died, hoping the conflagration had given them the distraction they needed to escape. It was not until he heard the sinister chuckle that he realized the battle was not over.

“Well played, Wolf,” Suru said with a mocking bow. “In truth you have aided me. Mohai was growing too ambitious, too arrogant. The time was coming when I would have had to deal with him. As thanks, I shall offer you no pain.” The maho-tsukai weighed his long blade in one hand as he approached the Wolf, hovering over the still molten earth that surrounded him.

Suru paused as the elements seemed to grow still again.

Looking back over his shoulder, he barely had time to scream his master’s name before a wave of molten rock washed over him.

Sezaru offered a prayer of thanks, but it was not yet finished when darkness claimed him.

Later…

A hazy, indistinct image began to form. A man clad in robes, his face hidden by a mask hovered before him. Sezaru wondered if his spirit had finally shed its body and he was looking down upon himself before he moved on to the Spirit Realms. But the robes were purple, and the mask steel.

“How long?” he croaked, feeling the dust from several days clogging his throat.

“I am not certain,” the newcomer responded. “A week, perhaps longer.” He summoned soothing kami to ease Sezaru’s pain, bringing a blissful wave of relief. “You are not badly injured, at least not physically. I did not expect to find you alive.”

“The others?” he croaked. It pained his throat to speak, but he must know. “My troops?”

“I do not know,” the stranger said. “I found it difficult to follow. You sealed the pass behind them and the winds above were… unfriendly.”

Sezaru nodded. “Do you have water?”

The man nodded and brought a waterskin from the folds of his obi. “Gently,” he said cautiously, “only a little at a time.”

Sezaru coughed violently, feeling pain all throughout his body as he did so. “Who are you? How did you find me?”

“Rishimaru,” the man answered. “I was in Phoenix lands visiting a sage by the name of Asako Bairei, an expert in matters of obscure arcane lore.”

Despite the pain, Sezaru smiled slightly. “I know him.”

“I heard of Rishimaru’s return,” the man continued. “I resolved to aid you in any way I could.” He reached up and removed his mask, revealing the familiar features of a Unicorn. “I am Katamari, of House Iuchi. I am the Doomseeker..”

“Thank you,” he rasped, his throat feeling better. “Doomseeker?”

The Unicorn nodded. “I bear the legacy of an ancient order from across the Sands,” he explained. “I have been seeking the secrets of the Khadi, gaijin sorcerers from the Burning Sands, a specter of my clan’s past. I believe the secret of Iuchiban’s defeat lies with them.”

Sezaru sat up suddenly, his injuries forgotten. “Khadi?” he asked with sudden interest. “I have not heard this word spoken before.”

Katamari shrugged. “The Iuchi are a private family,” he said. “Our mixture of foreign magic and Rokugani spiritualism sometimes finds offense, so we find it is better to keep our secrets.”

The Wolf struggled to his feet. “I must return and reorganize my forces. Perhaps my hunters can help you find the information you seek.”

“I fear I have grave news for you then,” Katamari said, his voice growing dark. “The Agasha daimyo, Hamanari, was executed for treason two days ago.”

Sezaru turned and stared at the man incredulously. “Hamanari has been nearly comatose for months,” he said. “He is incapable of treason. Who has done this?”

“One of your own hunters,” Katamari answered. “Already his motives have been called into question. The evidence and testimony which supported his claims were spurious. The man has been punished, but the reputation of your hunters has fallen under a deep shadow.”

Sezaru scowled deeply, wondering if this entire attack was nothing more than a distraction while Iuchiban’s servants undermined his hunters from within. If nothing else, perhaps that was at least Iuchiban’s contingency. Or was this perhaps the work of another enemy? He subtly probed outward with his magic, sending spirits of Void to search this Katamari for any signs of deceit or falsehood. If this man was lying, at least, that would simplify matters. He could destroy this Katamari and return to his duties. Sadly, he found only truth.

“It will be all I can do to restore control,” Sezaru said, “and my actions and motives will be monitored closely from now… my brother will have no choice.”

“Perhaps,” Katamari said.

“I will not give Iuchiban this victory,” Sezaru said. “If I will be questioned upon my return, then I shall not return. Not until I have the knowledge I need to destroy our enemy.”

“The Iuchi have nothing else useful to offer,” Katamari said. “The Phoenix were my last hope. What would you suggest, Sezaru-sama?”

“To learn about the Khadi, we must seek the knowledge at its source,” the Wolf said, reaching for his white mask. “We must enter the Burning Sands.”