Half an hour later, in a café near Spear Body Tower.
Samael sat by the window, watching the Black Samurai constantly enter and leave through the main gate, unable to help feeling a headache coming on.
Clearly, the area had already been sealed off.
Before this, he had also stopped by Harushō Book Society, but it was already completely empty. Ryougi Shiki, Tohno Akiha, Asagami Fujino, and their three Servants had all vanished without a trace.
The only thing that put him slightly at ease was that there were no particularly serious signs of fighting in the courtyard.
At least on the surface, they should be safe for the time being.
After all, they were model business partners who had cooperated with the Shogunate. They would not be used as sacrificial flags so quickly.
Besides, the other side was counting on those hostages to lure in a big fish like him.
But compared to being baited, he preferred taking the initiative.
There!
At last, after waiting for ages and downing five cups of coffee, Samael finally spotted the figure in purple he had been desperately waiting for and quietly followed her.
The morning sun shone on her face, bringing a little warmth and brightness—colors the endless night could never reach.
Walking down the street, Murasaki Shikibu gazed at the passing crowds and familiar scenery around her, her eyes carrying a trace of fascination.
These things she had once regarded as noisy vulgarities had somehow become rather lovable now, making her feel unexpectedly close to them.
Lancer Kiyohime, Assassin Shuten Doji...
Murasaki Shikibu stopped at the street corner, raising a hand to touch the faint scratch on her chest. Merely mentioning those two names left lingering fear in her heart.
They were the leaders who had led the hundred oni in