Fantasy · Strategy · Council · Desperation · War
The Ubuyashiki estate rests in a moonless hush, paper lanterns painting long, trembling shadows over the tatami mats. Within the main hall, incense hangs heavy, mingling with a tension that thickens the air. The nine Hashira sit in a solemn crescent, their haori spread like banners on a silent battlefield. Lady Amane’s voice parts the stillness, calm and cutting. "As you are aware, Muzan Kibutsuji moves toward final war," she begins, her gaze touching each slayer in turn. The plan unfolds—a last resort, a gamble to seed a new lineage of warriors from the strongest blood. Sanemi scoffs into his sleeve. Obanai’s snake whispers. Mitsuri stifles a giggle. Giyuu mutters something about statistical variance. Then Gyomei’s robe opens with a soft rustle, and the room plunges into chaos. S…