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As mentioned earlier, due to the curse of the Nine-Tailed Fox four centuries ago, the Keikain Clan's main bloodline steadily weakened over the generations. Eventually, they were forced to choose talented candidates from the branch families to serve as the new main family members.

By now, the original Keikain main family had long vanished into the depths of history. Today's main family was entirely composed of selected elites from the various branch houses.

In other words, the current "main family" represented just a tiny fraction of the entire Keikain population, whereas the branch families made up the overwhelming majority.

Yet even among these branches, a clear hierarchy existed, dividing them into different factions and alliances—three powerful branches, in particular, stood out.

At that very moment, the heads of these three most influential Keikain branches stood quietly in the doorway of the Hero Village meeting hall:

—The Fukujū branch, renowned for their powerful barrier magic.

—The Aika branch, masters of shikigami manipulation.

—And the Yaso branch, famed for their cursed-blade craftsmanship.

Barrier spells, spirit summoning, and demon-slaying blades—these three disciplines essentially encompassed all an onmyōji ever needed. Thus, apart from the Keikain main family, these three men held the most significant authority within the entire clan.

"Please, have a seat. We sincerely thank the three esteemed family heads for taking time to join us."

Even the village elder—normally prideful and unyielding—quickly rose from his seat at the head of the table to welcome the three branch family leaders inside.

The head of the Yaso family sat down first, offering a courteous smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"We sincerely regret today's tragic events," he said smoothly. "Had our clan been aware sooner, we might have offered some assistance and perhaps avoided such devastating losses."

"Yes, indeed..." the elder sighed heavily in response.

Though the words were diplomatic enough, the underlying implication was crystal clear:

"We understand your village is shattered and defenseless. Meanwhile, our Keikain Clan remains unharmed, not even shedding a drop of blood. We still aren't sure exactly why you've called us here—but you'd better choose your next words carefully."

An unmistakable threat hidden beneath polite pleasantries.

Realizing he had no option but to press forward, the village elder cleared his throat nervously.

"We actually summoned you here tonight for two reasons. First, as the village elder, I must formally apologize for the incident involving the Acting Head of your clan, Bokue Keikain. The cowardly warriors who abandoned him have been captured. They will be handed over to your clan for swift and fitting punishment."

"Mm-hmm." The Fukujū family head replied dismissively, clearly impatient. The village's cowardice had endangered a Keikain Acting Head. If the village couldn't offer proper restitution, there'd be hell to pay. Executing a few useless cowards was the least they could do—but frankly, the three Keikain family heads couldn't care less about minor details.

"So, what's the second matter?" Fukujū pressed coldly.

"The other matter is..." The elder's head dropped even lower. "It also concerns Bokue Keikain himself. According to our village healers, during the battle against the demon, your Acting Head may have absorbed... some kind of sinister, unstable power. Given his young age, we fear his mind isn't yet mature enough to handle such overwhelming strength. Should he lose control, the consequences would be disastrous. Therefore, if possible, we suggest temporarily... detaining Acting Head Keikain here, for observation."

"Oh?" The Fukujū head raised an eyebrow indifferently. "And just how long would this 'observation' take?"

"At least... several years," the elder cautiously ventured, unable to directly use the word "seal."

"At least several years?" The Yaso head shook his head firmly. "We can't accept vague terms. We demand clarity. As you must understand, the Keikain Acting Head can't remain corrupted by demonic power. Give us a concrete figure. How many years exactly would you need to ensure he's stable?"

"Then perhaps... twenty years," the elder finally forced out, cold sweat trickling down his temple.

Two decades.

This was essentially a whole generation's time.

Normally, even a clan head wouldn't remain absent for twenty years without being replaced, let alone a mere Acting Head, especially if the reason given was "potential demonic corruption."

So this was what the three branch families truly wanted.

"Excellent."

The moment the elder finished speaking, the three Keikain family heads exchanged meaningful glances, silently communicating their shared agreement. Finally, the head of the Aika branch gently tapped the table to confirm the decision.

"To be perfectly candid, the position of Acting Head is far too significant for our clan to tolerate even a hint of instability. Since your village has thoughtfully raised such concerns, we will follow your suggestion exactly."

❁❁❁❁

Night soon arrived.

A great bonfire blazed brightly in the center of the training grounds, casting flickering shadows across the bloodstained earth where, hours ago, demons and undead had rampaged.

The Hero Village was hosting a bonfire celebration—though in truth, for this village, bonfires were not merely victory rituals but funerary rites as well.

In these cursed mountains, corpses corrupted by dark spirits had to be burned before nightfall. Left untouched, the bodies would attract hordes of demons, consuming the entire village overnight.

Now that the funeral pyres had been lit and their fallen comrades' souls laid to rest, all that remained was to eat, drink, and dance—an attempt to cleanse the bitter grief with some fleeting joy. Tomorrow morning, life would go on. That was simply the way of things.

Yet Bokue Keikain wasn't among the revelers. He'd never enjoyed noisy gatherings to begin with, so he built himself a small campfire at the training ground's edge instead.

There he sat, calmly grilling skewers of meat and vegetables with Yuki and Kurumi seated nearby. Little Yura sat comfortably in his lap, eyes wide and hungry, patiently waiting for food.

Staring quietly into the crackling flames, Bokue suddenly spoke up:

"This reminds me of something I read in a book once. Apparently, cooking pasta is better for impressing girls than grilling meat."

"Pasta...?" Kurumi tilted her head, confused. "Why pasta specifically?"

Bokue shrugged, turning his skewers carefully. "According to the book, when making pasta, you can stand behind the girl and romantically guide her hands as you knead the dough together. But when grilling meat, usually all you get is a pack of starving vultures crowding around, snatching half-cooked food out of your hands."

"Hah...?!" Kurumi froze, eyes wide, until realization finally dawned. "So you're saying we're all vultures now!?"

"It's okay..." Before Kurumi could fully explode, Yuki reached out and gently placed her hand over Bokue's, calmly helping him turn the skewer. "Even grilling can be romantic, right? We can do it like this. Yura-chan, would you mind scooting over a bit?"

"Hey—!" Kurumi sputtered indignantly. "Sis, how can you just let him get away with that?! You're supposed to be on my side!"

"Don't worry. Once I'm done, Kurumi, you can have a turn too. It feels nice, actually."

"W-who'd want that?! I'm perfectly fine on my own, thank you!"

The small argument drew a few amused looks from the main bonfire, but before the squabbling could escalate, a familiar voice came from behind:

"So, here you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Hm?"

Bokue glanced over his shoulder. Standing behind him was a black-haired boy about eleven or twelve years old—Ryuji Keikain. Despite his age, Ryuji always looked overly serious, eyes shadowed with constant worry.

"Oh, it's just you, Ryuji. What's up? Shouldn't you be enjoying the party instead of bothering me?"

"You've got a nerve asking me that," Ryuji rolled his eyes. "You're our Acting Head, but you're out here grilling alone, away from everyone else? And why'd you bring Yura out here too? She's only four! What if she gets burned? Scars on a girl are—"

"Alright, alright. You're acting like an overprotective grandma again." Bokue quickly interrupted, knowing Ryuji's sister-complex lectures could go on forever. "Make it quick. Got something important to say or not?"

"Yeah, actually." Ryuji's expression grew serious. "The Fukujū, Aika, and Yaso branch heads are meeting with the village elder up at the rear shrine. They said they need to speak with you immediately."

"Right now, huh...?" Bokue glanced regretfully at his nearly-cooked skewers. Honestly, though he'd eaten earlier, grilling still took effort, and now he had to leave at the worst possible time. Seriously?

Still, he sighed and nodded.

"Fine, fine. I'll go right away."

He passed his nearly finished skewer to Yuki, stood up and stretched.

"You all start eating first. Grill more if you want—I'll be right back."

"Mm. Hurry back, we'll save some for you," Yuki replied softly, watching him walk into the darkness.

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