Back in the village of Tsutsumi, Hyosei and Asatsuyu watched the magic lens in frozen silence. Seeing Haruki lash out at Eiji with such venom left the general stunned.

The stillness of his room became suffocating.

"All this time, I really thought they were getting along."

Hyosei whispered as the clarity dawned on him.

"Whenever I ask Eiji about Haruki, he would just praise him, saying how he looks up to him.”

Hyosei frantically paced around the room.

”And when I ask the same to Haruki, he would only grunt and call Eiji a nuisance. I took it for harmless bickering, banter between brothers.”

“I... I was so wrong."

He slumped back into his chair, his head spinning.

"Where did I fail them, Asatsuyu?"

Silence followed.

And then,

"It’s not entirely your fault, Hyosei. We both overlooked it."

Asatsuyu spoke softly.

"Haruki feels he has been set aside. It’s a common thing."

"But still, the truth is I failed."

Hyosei groaned, the weight of his station feeling like iron chains.

He had served the Yaibasho with honor, yet he had faltered in the simple, sacred duty of a father.

Asatsuyu poured a cup of steaming tea, sliding it toward his friend.

"I have a confession.”

Asatsuyu sat down.

“I have known this conflict for some time now.”

Hyosei stared at him, confused.

”You know my son, Ishito, has been by Haruki’s side since they were little.”

"He shared his frustrations with me. The more he spoke, the more I realized they were Haruki's feelings as well."

Asatsuyu met Hyosei’s eyes.

“I should have spoken sooner. I am sorry."

Hyosei’s gaze shifted to the jagged, frozen peak in the distance through a window.

“But on the other hand, there's not much you can do.”

Asatsuyu pointed out with a heavy sigh.

“You can't force Haruki to be kind, just as you can't expect Eiji to ignore his own brother.”

Hyosei remained silent.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the embers.

"He may not admit it, but Haruki feels that he is fighting for your love and attention"

Asatsuyu continued, his voice low.

"But what Haruki needs now is to be acknowledged by you.”

“And Eiji?”

Asatsuyu stared at Hyosei.

“Oh, Eiji needs your gratitude more than anything."

The general turned, his eyes weary and hollow.

"Acknowledgment is such a heavy burden, Asatsuyu. And gratitude... that’s a debt I don’t know how to pay to a boy I’ve stripped of his dream."

Asatsuyu sighed, the sound echoing in the cold chamber.

“Then perhaps…”

“...it is time to stop being a General to them.”

“And become the father they both need.”

Hyosei flinched.

”If you continue to treat them as cold steel, they will eventually shatter. And this time, no amount of tears can make them whole again.”

Hyosei stared at his cup, seeing his own reflection.

But then his chest tightened, a grim tremor shaking the floor beneath them.

A low, guttural vibration rose from the distance.

Asatsuyu turned back to the magic lens, and he scanned the summit.

His fur bristled in pure, primal terror: a pack of corrupted snow apes, teeth bared, was closing in on the trapped samurai.

"Hyosei, it’s the—"

Asatsuyu’s words were cut short by Hyosei's abrupt rising.

The general had turned to the window, staring toward the northern horizon.

The sky darkened.

Snow no longer fell.

Instead, black mist rolled across the mountains like a living tide.

"Phantasima…"