By four in the afternoon, the autumn sun was already sinking behind the mountains, casting long, golden shadows across the courtyard of the Ubuyashiki Estate.

A sharp gust of wind swept through the open shoji screens, sending a shower of crimson maple leaves swirling across the clean tatami mats. Inside the main hall, any tense silence had completely dissolved into the usual restless energy of the gathered pillars. Instead of sitting in solemn quiet, the room was alive with constant movement and quiet commotion.

Rengoku was enthusiastically scarfing down his third sweet potato bento box right at the table, completely unbothered by the draft. Tengen was sprawled out near the center of the room, loudly complaining to anyone who would listen about how sitting around in the freezing cold was ruining his flashy style.

Up near the veranda, Muichiro was completely spaced out, staring blankly at the autumn sky and wondering what shape the cloud he saw earlier had been.

Across from them, Gyomei was silently praying, tears streaming down his face as he continuously rolled his heavy wooden beads between his hands. Mitsuri was nervously fidgeting with her braid, glancing around at everyone while quietly worrying about why they had been called so late in the day. Sanemi was leaning against a pillar, scowling with his hand resting heavily on the hilt of his Nichirin sword, while Obanai sat perched up in the rafters above, watching the room with a cold, watchful glare. Even Giyu stood off in a dark corner by himself, staring out at the garden in complete silence.

They all assumed the summons meant the worst—an Upper Rank attack, a brutal loss, or an emergency campaign. None of them, despite their razor-sharp instincts, had guessed the real reason behind the meeting.

Master Kagaya wasn't stepping through those sliding doors to deliver bad news. He was about to introduce two new Hashira to take up swords alongside them.