Chapter 42 – Wisteria

Six months had passed since the fall of the Shogun.

In that time, Ren and his companions had begun to heal the scars left by war.

Lilith, like an inevitable shadow, returned to Umbra carrying the Azatoth pendants Ren had given back to her.

Yura, meanwhile, stood firm in her role as heir, solidifying her image as the new Empress. She declared the end of Yukihana’s border lockdown and moved the capital back to Sekka.

But one final step remained before the coronation.

For Ren to be accepted as one of their own, he had to undergo the oldest ritual of the Yuki: to submerge himself in the sacred waters of Gekkō and receive the blessing of Yuri, god of winter. Only then would he be recognized not as a foreigner, but as an emperor—standing beside Yura.

In a small pond within the holy sanctuary, our group waited for the ritual to begin, joined by a handful of acolytes.

“Feeling nervous?” Luisina asked, leaning in with a teasing grin.

“Well… a little,” Ren replied, squinting playfully. “Mostly I’m worried Latina’s going to freeze down there.”

“W–What?! Me?!” The young elf looked around, flustered and red-faced.

“Enough, you two.” Yura, ever serious, nudged Ren gently. “The ceremony’s about to begin.”

Silence fell as the high priest of Yuri stepped forward. He was a young man with a calm face, dressed in a white haori embroidered with ice crystals. His clear voice rang out like a hymn in the frigid air.

“We gather here, in the sacred sanctuary of Gekkō… to welcome our new brothers and sisters.” He raised a hand toward the pond, its waters shimmering like silver under the moonlight.

“Those who enter these frozen waters—born from the tears of our god—shall receive his blessing.”

Latina was led to the edge of the pond first. Blue lanterns cast a soft glow on her trembling silhouette as she slowly stepped into the sacred water, submerging herself completely.

She emerged seconds later, shivering violently. Ren rushed to wrap her in a blanket, warming her with solar energy.

“See? Told you it’d be easy,” he said with a smile.

“S–Sure… but it’s freezing…” she stammered, lips tinged purple.

The high priest nodded, and with Yura’s approval, gestured to Ren. It was his turn.

Ren stepped up to the edge of the pond. The air around him sliced through his lungs, but he pressed forward—one step, then another—until the water swallowed him whole.

In an instant, his consciousness was pulled into another realm.

A place beyond time, where snow fell endlessly. A massive sakura tree loomed, shedding pale blue petals like those of Yukihana, and an ancient castle stood tall on the horizon.

In front of the castle waited a man with white hair, tall and composed. His eyes were cold as winter moons, and his presence echoed Yura and Yukino.

“Welcome, Takao Ryonosuke… or should I call you Ren Sinclair? Phantom, perhaps?” the figure said, his voice deep and resonant.

Ren smiled.

“So we finally meet… Yuri.”

“It’s been over thirty years since you arrived in this world,” the god said, looking him over. “You’re a legend among the pantheon now.”

“Hopefully the good kind,” Ren replied with a half-smile.

“Lumina’s heart aches for what they did to you. Truly. Being torn from Japan and betrayed… it weighs heavily on her.”

Ren’s smile faded. The memory of the banquet, the poison, the betrayal—cut through his mind like a blade.

“…I know it wasn’t her fault. Besides, I didn’t miss my life in Japan.”

Yuri shrugged with divine indifference.

“Humans are strange like that. Shion, on the other hand, is thrilled with your soul harvest.”

Ren let out a bitter laugh.

“I guess I’ve been doing her job, haven’t I?”

“But look at you. Two blessings aren’t enough… and now you’re here to claim mine too. How shameless.” Yuri’s tone was mocking, though his eyes remained icy.

Ren fell silent, lost in thought.

“Why didn’t we meet sooner? This is the second time I’ve entered the sacred waters…”

For a moment, Yuri’s expression hardened.

“Because now… your time is running out. You’re dying, Ren. Dimensional Cut wasn’t meant for humans.”

The silence dropped like a stone. Ren knew—there was no hiding the truth from a god.

“Yeah… I only have four flames left.” He glanced at his hand, where Shion’s seal flickered faintly. “That’s maybe twenty, thirty years at most…”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that,” Yuri replied, his voice as cold as the ice around them. “If you were Yuki, perhaps… but this is beyond my reach.”

Ren’s face darkened, though his eyes burned with resolve.

“As long as I can finish what I started… it doesn’t matter. Solmara must fall.”

Yuri studied him in silence, then spoke with solemn weight.

“That’s why I brought you here. I don’t want Yukihana leaving this country again.”

“But—”

“Shhh. No buts.” The god cut him off firmly. “Yukihana was given to protect this land. It was my gift to the Aseina—my descendants.”

He paused, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

“However… since you’ve proven yourself worthy, and you’ve protected my children… I’ll make an exception.”

A burst of blue light exploded in the air. Amid the suspended snow, a katana appeared—its black sheath adorned with cascading violet blossoms.

“This is Wisteria, the Blade of Compassion.”

“I forged it a few months ago as Yukihana’s sister,” the god said, bowing his head.

“After all, if you’re going to be emperor… you’ll need a weapon worthy of the title, don’t you think?” He winked playfully.

Ren accepted the sword with pride, offering a respectful nod.

“I can’t bless you—because you’re not Yuki. But I can give you a divine weapon capable of channeling Dimensional Cut.”

Yuri crossed his arms and added casually:

“Just remember to pass it on to your daughter when the time comes.”

“M–My what?” Ren looked up, stunned.

Yuri blinked. For the first time, his divine composure cracked. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

“Oh… you didn’t know? Well, time flies! And I’ve got work to do!” he said, glancing at an imaginary watch.

“What did you just say?!” Ren stepped forward, shaken.

Yuri grinned shamelessly and tossed him a small violet charm bearing the symbol of health.

“Nothing, nothing. Consider this your coronation gift… and take good care of Wisteria. Farewell!”

The space around them warped, and the vision dissolved like melting snow. Ren opened his eyes beneath the sacred water. He surfaced, gasping, his face tense—but in his expression lingered something else: the shock of someone who’d just received an impossible truth.

“Ren, are you okay?” Yura asked, concern in her voice.

Before answering, he rose from the water holding a dark katana, its sheath glinting with violet reflections. The murmurs of the gathered crowd fell into stunned silence.

Yukihana’s sister had been born.

“A-a divine sword…” the cleric stammered—then promptly fainted.

Ren slowly unsheathed the blade, studying its details. The violet engravings flowed like petals caught in the wind.

“Wisteria…” he whispered.

Shaking off the thoughts swirling in his mind, he turned to Yura with a serious look.

“Love… is there something you want to tell me?”

She tilted her head, blushing.

“I had a big breakfast… didn’t think you’d notice.”

“That’s not what I meant. Don’t play dumb.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She whistled innocently, glancing away—though her hands instinctively rested on her stomach.

Luisina stepped in and whispered softly in Ren’s ear.

“This isn’t the place for that… you two can talk later. For now, smile and raise your katana. It’s the symbol of Yuri’s recognition.”

Ren took a deep breath and lifted the weapon high. Cheers erupted around the lake.

And so, with an unexpected revelation and a secret still unspoken, Ren received a divine blade to stand beside Yukihana.

His own katana… Wisteria.