"Don't look at me. You'll know later," Iori told Roderik, who was waiting for an explanation.
Roderik raised an eyebrow, suspicion etching across his features. "You're not setting me up or something, are you?" he asked, half-joking, half-serious, causing Iori to laugh.
"Oh please, do you even need setting up? You came here willingly without second thoughts," Iori teased, a hint of amusement in his tone. Roderik grunted, rolling his eyes.
"Well, compared to Ookaze, at least I can trust you a little," Roderik said with a light chuckle. "By the way, how's Hizuki? Was he hurt?"
Iori hesitated, his expression shifting to something more guarded before he spoke. "Well, he's in a deep coma. Those idiots used five sachets of Lunaris on him."
Roderik's eyes widened in horror. Lunaris was a potent, odorless sleeping medicine so powerful that even a minute amount could knock an elephant out for days. "Five sachets?" His voice dropped, disbelief flooding his words. "Even one could kill someone. Why would they try to kill Hizuki? Didn't they want the Luna position?"
Iori sneered, looking somewhat unimpressed. "Oh, don't be so shocked. That's not all of it."
"There's more?" Roderik's curiosity spiked, but Iori refused to elaborate any further as they arrived at their destination.
"Yeah, but you'll see," Iori replied cryptically, stepping out of the limo, motioning for Roderik to follow.
They came to a stop in front of an old manor, its structure seemingly untouched by time. As soon as they exited the vehicle, Roderik's ears perked. "Hey, is that music?" he asked, glancing around.
Iori twitched his lips into a thin, resigned smile. "Yeah," he answered, nodding toward the back of the manor. "The music room was newly built, supposed to be soundproof," he shrugged. But as lycans, They've got sharp senses. They could still hear it. "The Ancestor is fond of it."
Roderik raised a brow but didn't press further. He knew better than to ask about the Ancestor. Iori would leave it at that, and he wasn't about to push for answers. Instead, he followed his friend into the manor, mimicking him when he removed his shoes before stepping onto the wooden floor.
The interior of the old Japanese manor was just as Roderik remembered—timeless, as though stepping into a space untouched by time. The long, polished wooden beams of the ceiling creaked slightly underfoot as they made their way down the narrow hallway. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and incense, the faint trace of sandalwood lingering in the cool atmosphere. The floors were made of smooth bamboo that had a slight warmth to them, like stepping into a familiar, peaceful world. Paper sliding doors partitioned off rooms, their soft outlines glowing faintly from the gentle light that filtered through the paper windows.
The walls were adorned with faded tapestries depicting wolves, the moon, and other motifs from old legends. The space felt both ancient and alive, as if the manor itself held onto memories long forgotten by most.
Roderik couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia as he looked around. He had been here before, many years ago, when the atmosphere was more vibrant and alive. The place held an ageless quality to it, exuding a silent wisdom that seemed to reach beyond time itself. He could sense the history that seeped into every crevice of the manor, the weight of centuries pressing into the walls.
"Seems like it hasn't changed much," Roderik muttered, his voice filled with a bittersweet tone as he glanced around the familiar surroundings.
Iori didn't respond immediately, but his gaze flickered briefly toward the music room before leading Roderik further into the house. They passed by more sliding doors, the soft rustle of the bamboo blinds whispering in the cool air.
Iori led him into a tatami room, the floor covered in smooth, woven mats that gave off a subtle earthy scent, grounding them both in the moment. The room was dimly lit, with soft natural light filtering in from the paper windows, giving it an almost ethereal quality. In the center of the room stood a low wooden table, dark and polished, its surface reflecting the soft light. Around it, cushion seats were arranged in neat rows, inviting guests to sit and engage in quiet conversation.
The room had a serene, calming atmosphere, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air just moments before. The minimalism of the space allowed the mind to relax, each element placed intentionally, without excess or clutter. It felt like a pause, a space where time slowed, leaving only peace.
At the far end of the room, through a sliding paper door, was a Zen garden—carefully arranged rocks and sand, each placed with deliberate attention to balance. A bamboo fountain trickled softly, its delicate splashes against the stone basin adding to the room's tranquil ambiance. The soft rustling of bamboo leaves outside stirred in the breeze, and the fragrance of fresh earth and greenery seeped into the space, mingling with the deeper scents of wood and incense.
Roderik took a slow breath, taking in the quiet beauty of the room. It was simple yet elegant—everything in its place, exuding a timeless calm. There were no signs of modern life here, just the quiet hum of nature and the stillness of the old world. It reminded him of the few moments of peace he had been granted in his own chaotic life, brief moments when he could just be.
"This place… it's peaceful," Roderik murmured, his voice soft, almost reverent.
Iori nodded slightly, his expression unreadable, yet something in his voice hinted at something deeper. "Hizuki values peace in all things," he said quietly, before pausing as though considering the words. "It's important to him."
Roderik nodded thoughtfully but didn't press for more. Instead, he followed Iori further into the room, taking a seat on one of the cushions. He couldn't shake the feeling that everything here had a purpose—a hidden meaning just waiting to be uncovered.
"Who are we waiting for, exactly?" Roderik asked after a moment of silence, glancing at Iori. "I tried to remember if you still have elders living from your uncle's generation but couldn't think of any."
"None," Iori confirmed quietly, his tone distant for a moment. "They all passed in the war."
Roderik frowned, more confused now than ever, and was about to ask again when the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, followed by the soft sliding of a paper door opening.
The figure that entered the room was tall and striking, a young man with bi-colored eyes that gleamed with an unsettling intensity. Roderik's eyes widened in shock, his mind racing to process the unexpected sight. "Y-you…" He turned to Iori, his voice thick with confusion. "I thought you said Hizuki's in a coma," he stated, his voice trembling slightly as disbelief took hold.
Iori grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "He is."
Roderik blinked, then pointed at the man standing before them. "Then why is he standing here?" His confusion deepened, his mind struggling to connect the dots.
"That's not Hizuki," Iori said calmly, his eyes betraying no hint of surprise. "That's our Ancestor."
The young man—who resembled Hizuki in striking ways—let out a low chuckle, his voice carrying a deep resonance that filled the room. "Langeveld, boy, I am Kagerou, the primordial wolf..."