Namino stood up completely, his posture straightening. The immense respect he had shown for my grandfather's name remained, but as he looked at me, his demeanor shifted back into the sharp, calculating confidence of an Elite Hunter.
"I spend a considerable amount of my time reading the ancient archives," Namino explained, glancing toward Makeno. "I know the history of the great hunter's and the weapons they forged. That is why I immediately recognized you, Makeno. I have always wanted to meet the guardian born from the Eight Elites."
Makeno offered a faint, acknowledging smile. "The archives only capture a fraction of the truth, Namino Shiki. But your dedication is noted."
Namino turned his sharp gaze back to me. "So, Symen. You carry the bloodline, and you have the guardian. But what exactly brings you to the Palace today?"
I met his eyes directly. "I need an audience. I need to meet with every Elite Hunter. All of you, together, need to hear what I have to say."
Namino frowned slightly, crossing his arms. "Symen, I respect the Shinji name more than most. But even as the grandson of the former Supreme Commander, you cannot just summon all eight Elites for a conversation. We are the military core of this organization. A full assembly is reserved for world-ending threats."
"That is exactly what this is," I said, my voice dropping lower, completely deadpan. "It's about Jason."
The name hit Namino like a physical blow. His eyes widened, his composed Elite facade cracking for a split second.
"Jason?" Namino repeated, his voice tight. "The Lord of Spirits? Are you certain?"
"I am," I replied evenly. "But I am not explaining the details standing out here in the courtyard. I will only explain what is coming when all of the Elites are gathered in one room."
Namino stared at me, his mind clearly working through the tactical implications. The silence stretched for several seconds.
"If this is truly related to Jason," Namino finally said, "then I will arrange the meeting."
He took a step closer, his spiritual density flaring just enough to make a point.
"But understand this, Symen," Namino said coldly. "I respect your grandfather, and I trust the history behind Makeno. But I do not know you. Nor do I trust you or your partner."
Haroku bristled slightly, but I held up a hand to stop him.
"If you don't trust us," I asked, "then why are you letting us walk deeper into your headquarters?"
Namino's expression was completely relaxed, completely devoid of fear. "Because it does not matter. If either of you try anything hostile, I can neutralize you before you even form a seal."
It wasn't a boast. It was a simple, factual statement from the 7th Elite.
I gave a slight nod. "Fair enough. Lead the way."
Namino turned and began walking down the massive central pathway. Haroku, Makeno, and I followed close behind.
As we ventured deeper into the Palace grounds, the sheer scale of the architecture became impossible to ignore. The pathways were lined with massive stone structures, towering pillars, and heavily fortified training grounds. It was a perfect blend of ancient tradition and highly lethal military efficiency.
"Every Elite Hunter has their own personal headquarters within these walls," Namino explained without looking back. "That is why the compound is so massive. It operates as eight independent fortresses interconnected by the outer perimeter."
Haroku looked around, clearly impressed by the sprawling stone buildings. "Man," he muttered to me. "Living here must be amazing."
I kept my eyes moving, scanning the rooftops and the spaces between the buildings. "Stay focused," I whispered back.
Just as we passed a massive, ancient tree bordering the path, an anomaly hit me.
It wasn't a sudden drop in temperature or a swirling vortex of dust. It was a complete, terrifying absence of sound. Both Haroku and I stopped dead in our tracks. Our instincts screamed in unison.
We both snapped our heads up, looking directly into the thick branches of the tree.
There was absolutely nothing there.
Then, a voice whispered directly behind my left ear.
"How long are you going to stand there staring at an empty branch?"
My blood ran cold. Haroku whipped around instantly, his hand reaching for his gear. I turned just as fast, my eyes locking onto the source of the voice.
Sitting casually on a large stone monument just a few feet behind us was a man.
He looked incredibly young, maybe around twenty-four. He had messy black hair and wore the sharp, distinctive uniform of the Elite Hunters. He was sitting with one leg pulled up, resting his chin on his fist, looking completely bored.
But the spiritual energy contained within his body was suffocating. It didn't leak out into the air like normal hunters; it was compressed so densely into his physical form that just standing near him felt like gravity had doubled. It was an overwhelming, god-like presence.
This was Arthur Vespertine. The 1st Lead Elite. The absolute strongest hunter in the world.
Arthur didn't even look at Haroku or me. He shifted his lazy gaze over to Namino.
"Namino," Arthur said, his voice entirely unbothered. "Since when did we start allowing tourists to sightsee inside the palace?"
Namino didn't flinch or bow. He looked at Arthur normally, holding his ground as a fellow Elite.
"They are not tourists, Arthur," Namino replied calmly. "This is Symen. He is the grandson of Sekonami Shinji."
Arthur blinked slowly. He tilted his head, staring blankly at Namino.
"Who?" Arthur asked.
He wasn't joking or being disrespectful. He legitimately had no idea who my grandfather was. Arthur didn't read history books. He didn't care about bloodlines or ancient lore. When you hold the absolute pinnacle of power, the history of those who came before you becomes completely irrelevant.
"Never mind," Arthur sighed, clearly losing interest. He finally shifted his dark eyes toward me.
And for the first time since crossing the gates, I felt completely exposed.