The pressure weighing down on us was immense, a heavy, suffocating spiritual density that blanketed the entire area. I slowly turned my head toward Haroku.
"Haroku," I said, keeping my voice level. "If anything feels off—anything at all—you use your highest-tier seal immediately. Do not hesitate."
Haroku met my eyes, a faint, confident smirk breaking through the tension. He adjusted his grip on his gear. "Yeah, bro. I've got it."
Haroku stepped out beside me, cracking his knuckles as he evaluated our blind spots.
We stood there for a moment in absolute silence.
I took a deliberate step forward.
"Jason's servant!" I called out, my voice carrying sharply across the empty expanse. "Show yourself!"
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then, the dirt kicked up. It wasn't a natural gust of wind; the dust swirled violently in a concentrated cylinder a few yards away. The temperature plummeted.
And then, he was just there.
He didn't walk out from behind the rocks. He simply materialized from the displaced air. He was a tall man, dressed in immaculate, tailored formal attire. His expression was completely detached, but his eyes carried a lethal, unsettling intensity.
I stared directly at him, keeping my posture entirely relaxed. "So... you're Jason's servant."
Anger flashed across his pristine face.
"I am not a servant," he snapped, his tone sharp and deeply offended. "Watch your words carefully."
He composed himself quickly, his pride returning as he smoothed the lapel of his suit. "I am Jason's secretary. My name is Hinomaki Koshido."
Haroku raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the corporate title, but he kept his mouth shut.
I ignored the posturing. "Alright, Koshido. Tell me something. After the bloodbath at the school... why did Jason call us out here?"
Koshido's lips curved into a faint, utterly cold smile.
"Because," he said slowly, "Jason knows exactly who you are."
He locked eyes with me, his gaze piercing.
"You are the grandson of Sekonami Shinji."
Total silence fell over the dirt lot.
Inside the car, Makeno shifted. Beside me, Haroku tensed, waiting to see how I would react to the sudden exposure of my bloodline.
I didn't flinch. My face didn't betray a single emotion. But inside, the gears were rapidly turning.
I took another deliberate step forward, closing the distance. My voice was loud and completely unyielding.
"Yes," I said. "I am the grandson of Sekonami Shinji. Now what?"
Koshido's expression turned dead serious.
"Your grandfather..." Koshido began, a trace of genuine, begrudging respect coloring his tone, "...was an absolute monster on the battlefield. He nearly killed Jason."
Haroku's eyes widened slightly.
"But," Koshido continued, "Jason executed his perfect move at the last possible moment."
He paused, letting the weight of the moment settle.
"He cursed you."
The words hit like a physical blow to the chest.
"Because he took that death mark for you," Koshido said, his voice echoing in the quiet, "Sekonami Shinji could no longer fight at his peak. Jason didn't finish him then. Instead... he chose a different path."
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"
Koshido stepped closer, closing the gap between us.
"Jason decided that he would fight you instead."
Haroku immediately stepped up, his hands ready to form a sealing array, but Koshido didn't even acknowledge his presence.
"You," Koshido said, pointing directly at me, "and the eight Elite Spirit Hunters."
The spiritual pressure radiating from him spiked.
"Be prepared," Koshido warned. "Because exactly one year from today... you will return to this exact place."
His voice dropped to a terrifying, absolute calm.
"And you will fight Jason."
A cold chill ran down Haroku's spine. Makeno's eyes narrowed into a lethal glare.
I didn't step back. "Why one year?" I asked.
Koshido reached inside his tailored coat and pulled out a heavy, sealed envelope.
"This," he said, extending his hand, "contains everything."
I stared at the thick parchment for a second before taking it. The moment my fingers brushed the paper, I felt the dense, dark energy woven into the fibers.
"Consider this your official invitation," Koshido said. "Or your final warning."
Haroku crossed his arms tightly. "And what makes you think we'll just accept it?"
Koshido finally looked at him. He offered a mocking, pitying smile.
"Because you don't have a choice. Jason is the King of Spirits. When the King declares a battle... it happens."
The absolute certainty in his words settled heavily over us.
I looked down at the sealed letter, my grip tightening on the edges, before sliding it safely into my inner coat pocket.
"Fine," I said.
My voice was completely calm. And utterly determined.
"We'll be ready."
Koshido gave a stiff, formal nod, as if he had anticipated that exact response. "Good."
His physical form began to lose its density, the edges of his suit blurring and dissolving into the ambient air.
"Train well," his voice echoed, sounding suddenly distant and hollow. "Because next time... there will be no conversation."
And just like that, he vanished.
The suffocating spiritual weight vanished with him, leaving the desolate hills perfectly empty once again.
Haroku let out a massive breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Damn," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "That guy was on a completely different level."
The car door opened, and Makeno stepped out onto the dirt.
"That wasn't just a high-tier entity," Makeno stated, her eyes fixed on the empty space where Koshido had stood. "That was incredibly dangerous."
I remained perfectly still for a few seconds, processing the timeline. One year.
Then, I turned around.
The anger was gone. The shock of the curse revelation was locked away. What remained was a deep, cold, absolute focus.
Haroku saw the shift in my posture immediately.
"So, bro," Haroku said, trying to inject a sliver of normalcy back into the moment. "What now?"
I looked past him, toward the distant horizon. "We find the Spirit Hunter Palace."
Haroku smiled, the heavy tension breaking just a fraction. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
Makeno crossed her arms, her garments shifting. "If Jason truly holds the title of King," she warned, her tone grim, "then one year of preparation might not be enough."
I clenched my fist.
"It has to be enough."
There was no hesitation in my voice. No room for a single doubt.
"Because we are not losing."
I turned and walked back to the car. Haroku and Makeno followed close behind. We got in, the doors slamming shut against the silence of the hills. I keyed the ignition, and the engine roared to life.
As I put the car in gear, Haroku looked over at me from the passenger seat.
"So" he said quietly. "Now we are going to the Spirit Palace ?"
I looked straight ahead at the long, empty road stretching out in front of us. The waiting was over.
"Definitely."