Renji moved swiftly through the corridors of the Takeda estate, his steps soundless against the polished wooden floors.
The scent of pine and aged tatami filled the air, grounding him, yet the weight in his chest remained.
Failure.
The Takeda estate stood as a testament to the clan's legacy, a fusion of ninja stealth and samurai discipline. This stronghold was built to be unseen. It blended into the surrounding bamboo forests, nestled in the mountains where only those who knew the paths could tread safely. Curved rooftops, adorned with carved dragons, and stone gardens carefully raked into intricate, flowing patterns.
But beneath the beauty was a fortress.
The walls were layered with hidden compartments, trap doors, and passageways. Shinobi patrolled the grounds, their presence a silent promise of death to any intruder. They did not acknowledge him with words, only with the subtle nods of those who had already learned to speak in silence.
Renji pushed forward. His father was waiting.
At the heart of it, within the grand hall, sat Ryozo Takeda.
The head of the Takeda Clan knelt on a raised platform, posture rigid, as if he were carved from stone itself. His salt-and-pepper hair was tied back, his face lined with the weight of decades. A katana rested beside him, not for ceremony, but for necessity. Ryozo Takeda did not believe in the luxury of peace.
To his right stood Masaru Kagetani, the clan's right hand and strategist.
Masaru was different from Ryozo, where the clan head was steel, Masaru was silk. His silver hair was bound loosely, and his fox-like eyes gleamed with amusement even in the darkest of moments. Once, he had been a feared assassin, a master of deception and poisons. Now, he was the voice that whispered in Ryozo's ear.
Renji entered and dropped to one knee, pressing his fist to the tatami in the traditional kneeling bow.
"Father. The mission… was unsuccessful."
The air shifted.
Ryozo's eyes remained closed for a long moment before he exhaled. Slowly, he opened them, piercing through Renji with the weight of his expectations.
"Explain."
Renji remained kneeling. His voice was even, but the failure gnawed at his pride.
"The target escaped."****"My spotter, Hayashi,died."
Silence.
A long, unforgiving silence.
The shoji doors behind Renji slid shut, as if to trap the weight of his failure inside the room.
Ryozo's fingers traced the sheath of his katana. "Hayashi, he was our best spotter."
Renji swallowed, forcing himself to keep his gaze level. "Yes."
Masaru let out a slow, amused breath, breaking the tension. "Well, that's unfortunate."
Renji's fists clenched.
But Ryozo? He did not flinch. Did not shift. His expression did not even flicker.
"How?"
Renji's jaw tightened. His voice was calm, but beneath it, a rare frustration lurked.
".338 Lapua Magnum. Straight through the medulla oblongata. Clean. Instant. Probably fired from a Sako TRG 42." His fists clenched at his sides. "I never sensed them. Not even a trace."
Ryozo's gaze sharpened. "And Hayashi? He can sense bloodlust from ten miles out. How did this get past him?"Another pause.
"With his skill, Hayashi should've sensed it even before the trigger was pulled. Bloodlust, intent—something. But there was nothing. I don't understand it." Renji's voice tightened with frustration. "It's like the shot came from a ghost."
He clenched his fists, eyes burning with resolve. "Whoever is behind this… I swear, I will find them. No matter what it takes."
Ryozo finally moved, picking up a small ceramic cup of tea from the table beside him. He took a measured sip before speaking.
"You will. Because failure is not an option."
Renji nodded. There would be no mourning, no moment to reflect. Renji had failed. That was all that mattered.
Renji continued…
"The guards were positioned too perfectly," Renji began, his voice steady but laced with an unspoken weight. "It wasn't a standard security detail. They weren't just protecting the target,, they were waiting for me."
Ryozo's fingers tapped once against the armrest of his chair. A silent acknowledgment. Continue.
Renji exhaled. "That's not the worst of it."
He lifted his head slightly, his sharp gaze meeting his father's.
"They had Sanguisara."
For a brief moment, the room felt colder.
Ryozo did not flinch. Did not shift. His expression did not even flicker. "You are certain?"
"Beyond any doubt."
A pause.
"Which family?"
Renji's fingers curled into fists. "Bratva."
That, finally, made Ryozo's eyes narrow.
"Viktor's men?"
"No." Renji shook his head. "I've met Bratva before. I know their warriors. These men were not Bratva, but they were using Bratva techniques. Ironhide. Titan's Grip. War Cry. They weren't imitating them. They had them."
A rare flicker of something passed through Ryozo's gaze.
"That should be impossible." Ryozo's voice remained calm, but there was no mistaking the shift in his tone, measured, deliberate, heavy with something more than just concern.
Renji caught it immediately. His father already knew something.
Ryozo exhaled through his nose, his gaze unreadable. Then, without a word, he shifted his attention to Masaru.
Renji immediately understood, his father was giving him permission to speak.
Masaru, ever composed, gave a slow nod before addressing Renji directly.
"Leonardo sent word before your return," he began, his voice smooth, deliberate. "There is a group operating in the shadows. They call themselves the Ashen Veil."
Renji's brow furrowed slightly. The name was unfamiliar.
"They've been hunting our bloodline," Masaru continued, his fingers lightly resting on the pommel of his blade. "Not just ours. Every branch of the Five Families has been targeted."
He let that sink in before adding, "A single vial of our blood is worth millions on the black market."
Renji's jaw tightened. "Blood transfusion?"
Masaru gave a slow, knowing nod.
"It has been attempted long before," he explained. "Other organizations have tried to steal what belongs to the Five. They believe they can claim our power through ritual, through transfusion."
Renji's eyes darkened. "And?"
Masaru's gaze sharpened. "It works. But only partially."
A chill ran through Renji.
"Those who take our blood can wield fragments of our Sanguisara. But eventually, the body rejects what is not truly its own. The consequences are inevitable."
"What kind of consequences?"
Masaru's voice remained steady, though there was an edge of finality to it.
"Madness. Organ failure. A slow, painful death if the body does not adapt. And none have." His tone was calm, absolute. "The power of the Five is not meant to be borrowed. It is meant to be inherited."
Renji exhaled, his thoughts racing.
"Then these men… they're using stolen power. But they were still standing. Still fighting."
Masaru nodded, his expression unreadable.
"Which means they have found a way to prolong their survival," he finished. "Or they've decided the risk is worth the reward."
A cold silence settled between them.
Ryozo's gaze locked onto Renji with quiet intensity. The weight of his father's stare was suffocating, but Renji held firm.
"Earlier, you mentioned the enemy was expecting you."
Renji nodded. "Yes. The way they were positioned, the way they moved, they weren't just guarding a target. They were waiting. Someone told them I was coming."
A silence stretched between them before Masaru finally spoke.
"That means one of two things," he said, tone measured. "Either the target was highly paranoid and prepared for every possible attack… or someone tipped them off."
Renji exhaled sharply, frustration simmering beneath his voice. "There's no way that was just paranoia. They were too well-prepared. Whoever set that up knew my approach, my timing, my method of entry." His hands curled into fists. "And they had Sanguisara. Someone is feeding them information and blood."
Masaru nodded, thoughtful. "Which leads us to the real question."
His eyes flickered toward Ryozo for a fraction of a second before returning to Renji.
"Is there a traitor among the Five?"
The words lingered, heavy, unavoidable.
Ryozo remained silent, simply watching, not leading the discussion, but weighing them both.
"The blood trade is already a breach of our laws," Masaru continued. "But stolen techniques? Knowing exactly when and where a Takeda heir would strike?" He shook his head. "That is something else entirely."
Renji's jaw clenched. "The Ashen Veil could have spies within our networks."
Masaru hummed in agreement. "Possible. But unlikely. The information was too precise, too well-timed. If I had to make a wager, I'd say the leak isn't from an outsider."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"It's coming from within the Five."
Renji felt the tension tighten like a noose around the room.
"Who?" he asked.
Masaru exhaled through his nose, his expression neutral. "If I knew, I'd have already put a blade in their throat."
Another silence.
Then, Ryozo finally spoke.
"Speculation is useless without proof." His tone was firm, decisive. "We do not act on whispers. But we do not ignore them either."
He leaned forward slightly, his shadow stretching over the dimly lit room.
"We will watch. We will wait. And when the traitor reveals themselves…"
A pause.
"We will cut them down."
"Precisely," Masaru said, a wry grin playing on his lips. "And now the question remains, who is testing us?"
Ryozo exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting between Renji and Masaru. "This matter will be handled," he said, his voice calm but absolute, leaving no room for debate. "However, that is not the only reason I called you here."
Renji straightened, the tension in his shoulders still lingering. He had expected his father to press further on the failed mission, but instead, Ryozo's next words carried an even greater weight.
"The Five Family Meeting will take place soon."
Renji frowned slightly. "The Five Family Meeting?"
Masaru tapped his fingers against the armrest, his smirk returning briefly before fading into something more serious. "It's called the Sanguis Oath."
Renji raised an eyebrow. "Sanguis Oath?"
Masaru nodded. "Every twenty-five years, the heads of the Five Families gather in a secret location, known only to them, to reaffirm the balance of power, "
Renji cut in. "Wait. If it's about balance, does that mean Alessandro is going to be there?"
Masaru smirked, shaking his head. "No, only the Family Heads attend. Alessandro may be the heir, but he is not the head of the Belladonna Family. Not yet."
He leaned forward slightly, his tone turning more serious. "The Sanguis oath is more than just a meeting. It's a ritual, a blood-binding pact that cements the Five Families' dominance over the underworld. The location is unknown to all but the heads themselves, changing every time to ensure secrecy. It is a place where debts are settled, alliances are reaffirmed, and most importantly, where the rules that govern us are decided."
Renji exhaled. "And if a family refuses to attend?"
Ryozo's gaze turned ice-cold. "Then they are no longer considered part of the Five Families." His voice was sharp, final. "And those who stand outside the Sanguis oath… do not stand for long."