Whispers of the Grigori (グリゴリのささやき / Gurigori no Sasayaki)

Morning came with a quieter kind of noise than Redforge’s usual hammer chorus. The forges still burned, but the first strikes hadn’t started yet. Smoke hung low over the town like a faded blanket while the sky tried to push a pale light through it.

Hajime winced as he tightened the strap on his pack. His body complained in a slow, deep ache that reminded him of every hit Kiraha had landed in the ring. Izumi stood beside him, arms crossed, watching him like she was trying to decide if she should scold him again or wrap him in petals and keep him from moving at all.

“You sure you don’t want another round of healing?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Hajime said. “You've done enough. Thank you, Izumi.”

Rei checked Seraphion one last time, where it rested at his hip, the faint light along its edge quiet and contained. It had been refined and restored to its former glory. His coat lay neat over his shoulders instead of hanging open in its usual lazy way. Hajime could tell this place meant something to him. The familiar way he traded insults with Kato. The way his eyes softened when kids ran past with wooden swords.

“You look stiff,” Hajime said.

Rei snorted. “You look like you got folded into scrap. We’re tied.”

Kiraha waited near the town’s gate with four horses already saddled. Her vest and cloak were back in place, scars hidden again under muted red and leather. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all and somehow still had more energy than the three of them combined.

“Good. You’re not limping,” she said when Hajime approached. “I’d have dragged you anyway, but this is easier.”

“I’m honored,” Hajime said dryly.

“I don’t usually play escort for foreign heroes, so you should be.” She swung up onto her horse in one smooth motion. “Let's get moving.”

Izumi hesitated for half a breath before climbing onto her own horse. The animal shifted under her weight, but it settled when her hand brushed its neck. Leaves on a nearby fence post quivered and turned toward her touch like they wanted to follow.

Rei rode up beside Kiraha. “It's been a while since I've been to the capital. How's the commander doing anyway?”

“Commander Rokuro Kaizō has been good. Just fights and eats like a wild animal.”

“That sounds about right,” Rei said.

Hajime glanced between them. “You two aren’t going to start trading stories, right?”

Kiraha laughed. “Relax, Vessel. There will be plenty of time for stories on the way.”

“Please stop calling me Vessel,” Hajime muttered.

“Then give me a better title for a boy who carries the Will of Adam inside his ribs,” she said.

He didn’t have an answer for that. The road waited beyond the gate, pale and hard-packed under the morning light.

The gate guards stepped aside. One of them saluted with a fist over his chest when he saw Kiraha’s signet. The other gave Hajime a quick, curious look, as if trying to match his face to a story.

They passed under the rough log arch of the gate and out onto the road.

The countryside opened around them in long, rolling stretches. Low hills rose and fell, cut by dry creek beds and scattered clusters of trees. Far to the east, smoke from Redforge thinned into a pale ribbon on the horizon. Ahead, the land sloped gently toward where Barakos waited somewhere beyond sight.

For a while, only hoofbeats and the creak of leather filled the morning.

Izumi was the one who broke the quiet first. “So... when we reach the capital, what exactly should we expect from Commander Rokuro?”

“Loud,” Kiraha said without having to think about it. “Stubborn. Honest, at least in a fight. Less so in politics. If you ask for a straight answer, you’ll get one, even if you hate it.”

“That also sounds familiar,” Rei said.

Hajime huffed. “Great. Another version of Rei.”

“Rokuro wishes,” Rei said.

Kiraha’s mouth curved, and she let out a giggle. “Careful. If he hears you said that, he’ll want to fight you both.”

The road kept stretching ahead. Breath steamed faintly from the horses’ muzzles as the chill faded from the air.

“Speaking of nightmares,” Rei said eventually, “you mentioned your border being busy with more than Thorned Pact raids. My intel informed me something else was moving near your territory before Solarii was attacked.”

Kiraha’s jaw flexed once.

“You mean the Grigori,” she said.

The word slid across the air like a shadow. Even the horses flicked their ears at it.

Izumi shifted in her saddle. “I saw that name in one of the old Verdant archives,” she said. “The Watchers. They were supposed to be a myth...”

Hajime listened while the three of them traded names he was only starting to learn. His Seiki hummed quietly under his skin in time with his heartbeat. Adam stayed silent in that deep place behind the door. Hajime still felt the Will’s attention shifting inside him.

“Where exactly are they now?” Hajime asked. “Are they dead? Were they angels? Demons? Something in between?”

“6,000 years ago, the Watchers fell in love with the people they were supposed to guard. They took beautiful human women, broke the boundary, and left Nephilim children behind.” Kiraha said.

Izumi’s fingers tightened on her reins. “The Verdant Veil's forest still has scars from that era,” she said quietly.

Kiraha nodded. “The point is, the Grigori didn’t die with their first bodies. Their Wills were too stubborn. They sank into the world and resurfaced again in new hosts. We believe there are a few of them left...”

“The Grigori Eight,” Rei said.

Kiraha cast him a sideways look. “You sound like you already met one.”

Rei’s mouth thinned. “We crossed paths in the Verdant Veil. I don’t know if it was one of the Eight, but her name was Selaphine.”

Hajime swallowed.

“What are they after?” he asked. “The Eight, I mean.”

“We don't know much other than the origin of their power. We also know of a woman in particular. Her name is Vaelith, and she's a mad scientist who runs the labs. She carries Kasdeja’s Will. In the old texts, Kasdeja’s the Watcher who taught forbidden mixtures,” Kiraha said.

“Labs?” Hajime repeated.

She looked at Hajime. “Testing labs to experiment on children and others she deems a good specimen.”

Hajime’s stomach tightened. “Experimenting on children,” he echoed.

“Vaelith inherited that obsession from her Will and carved it into a profession,” Kiraha said. “She runs labs that never stay in one place. Some say they move through hidden corridors in the Doctrine’s territory. Others swear they’re buried under old Celestine battlefields. All I know is that wherever her work shows up, people disappear.”

Izumi glanced at the sky, as if expecting it to answer. “Do we know what she’s actually making?”

“Not clearly,” Kiraha said. “There are assumptions, of course, but nothing factual. We can never reach her in time."

“We should totally beat this chick up. Am I right, guys?” Hajime asked.

“I'm with you,” Rei said. “First, though, we need to focus on strengthening our alliance.”

Kiraha clicked her tongue and gave Hajime a sidelong look. “You two can put that on your list after we survive my Commander Rokuro. One problem at a time.”

“Hell yeah,” Hajime said with a grin.

“Don't get excited,” she replied. “If Vaelith ever gets her hands on someone like you, there won't be enough of you left for Izumi to fix.”

The warning settled over them, but the road kept pulling them forward. Redforge shrank behind until its smoke was a faint smudge on the horizon. Hoofbeats and leather creaks filled the quiet.

Izumi let her fingers drift through tall grass whenever they passed a thicker patch. The blades straightened under her touch.

“It really is strange,” she said. “All this space, and somewhere out there, eight fallen Watchers are playing with people like toys.”

“Seven or eight,” Kiraha said. “Depends on which record you trust. Either way, I'd rather they stay far from the Crimson Legion borders.”

“Same,” Hajime said. “I like my body just the way it is.”

Rei rode a little ahead, eyes on the horizon. “They most likely already know all about us three because of our fight with Selaphine back at the Verdant Veil,” he said.

“Then we'll just have to make sure we stay ahead,” Hajime answered.

Hours slipped by. The sun climbed, then began to lean down.

Hajime rolled his shoulders until something popped. “I swear Kiraha hit me in bones I didn't know I had.”

“You're welcome,” she said. “You'll move better next time someone tries to kill you.”

“I'm starting to see why the Crimson Legion has a reputation for being insane,” he said.

Rei smirked. “Starting?”

By late afternoon, the heat had eased. Kiraha finally lifted a hand.

“There's a creek not far. It's an old patrol stop. We'll camp by the water,” she said.

She guided her horse down a narrow, half-hidden path between two low ridges. The others followed. The sound reached them first, a low, steady rush, then the hollow opened around them.

A clear stream curled along the base of the hills, narrow but bright. Pebbles lined the bank. Thin trees leaned over the water, leaves stirring in a breeze that didn't reach the road above. The air was cooler here.

Izumi drew in a quiet breath. “Finally, this feels clean,” she said.

“That's why we like it,” Kiraha answered. “There's not a lot of quiet, unpolluted areas around here.”

They dismounted. Hajime's legs complained when his boots hit the ground, and he had to steady himself on the saddle.

He led his horse to drink, then crouched at the bank and splashed water over his face. The cold hit hard enough to steal his breath.

“Oh, that's brutal,” he said.

Rei knelt beside him and copied the motion, water running back through his hair. “Enjoy it because the heat here can get miserable,” he said.

Izumi had already rolled her leggings to her knees. She stepped into the shallows with a small gasp, then relaxed as the water flowed around her ankles. Plants along the bank shifted toward her, leaves lifting. A few buds opened on a low branch, white petals unfolding.

She smiled. “Much better,” she said. “I felt like crap.”

Kiraha shrugged out of her cloak and dropped it over a rock. “You three enjoy the miracle bath,” she said. “I'll sweep the area. If anything's watching, I want to see it first.”

“You just want to fight, don't you?” Hajime asked.

“See you guys soon,” she replied, then disappeared between the trees.

They soaked in the shallows for a few minutes, letting the cold drag the ache from their legs. Hajime finally pulled his feet out and sat on a flat stone, toes tingling.

“I feel great, let's eat,” he said.

“You and your one-track mind, I swear,” Izumi teased.

Rei washed quickly and moved back up the bank. He built a small fire on a patch of bare earth, using wood that would smoke low and slow instead of billowing into the sky.

By the time Kiraha returned, the sun had dropped close to the hills. “Clear,” she said. “No tracks, no Seiki shifts. We're good.”

They finished cleaning up while the others tended the fire and unpacked simple rations. No one wandered far; the creek bent just enough to give a hint of privacy, but voices never left earshot.

When they finally settled, the camp looked small and neat. Bedrolls near the fire, saddles as makeshift backrests, packs stacked where they could be grabbed fast. The horses grazed in the thickest patch of grass.

Hajime sat with his back to a rounded stone, hair still damp, shirt loose over his taped ribs. The steady murmur of the creek mixed with the crackle of the fire.

Izumi sat close enough that their shoulders almost touched. She held her hands out to the flames.

“You doing better?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “The water helped. So did knowing we're not camping on top of some nightmare lab.”

“Low standards, but I'll take it,” Rei said from across the fire.

Kiraha leaned back on her hands and studied them through the firelight. “For what it's worth,” she said, “I didn't bring up the Grigori to weigh you down. People like you are exactly the kind they sniff out. If you know their name and origin, you're harder to surprise.”

“We'll be ready,” Rei said. “If they come close, I'll cut them down.”

Hajime's fingers curled in the fabric over his ribs. “And if Vaelith starts using kids as test pieces anywhere near us,” he said, “I don't care whose territory it is. We'll shut her down.”

Izumi nodded once. “We owe that much to everyone who doesn't have a Will watching their back.”

Something in Kiraha's expression softened. “Good,” she said. “Keep that anger, just don't let it burn you empty. Live long enough to make it matter, kid.”

Silence settled. The fire snapped softly while the sky darkened.

After a while, Kiraha pushed herself to her feet. “I'll take first watch,” she said. “Rei, you're second. Hajime, you get the last stretch before dawn. Lord Izumi sleeps through, because she's the only one who can put us back together in the morning.”

Izumi opened her mouth, then closed it with a sigh. “Fine,” she said. “But if anything sneaks up on us while I'm asleep, I'm coming after all three of you.”

Rei gave a lazy salute. “Yes, my lady.”

Hajime grinned. “I'll protect you.”

“From your own snoring,” Kiraha said.

“I don't snore!” Hajime exclaimed.

Rei and Izumi answered together. “You do.”

The creek kept whispering over stone while their fire burned low and steady, a small circle of light against the dark hills. The road toward Barakos would still be waiting beyond the horizon.

Tonight, they rested by the water and let the world be simple for a few hours.