The crimson leaves of Yamatai drifted through the air like falling embers, swirling gently in the mountain wind. Golden sunlight filtered through the canopy above, painting the ancient stone paths with warmth. The air held a dry crispness—autumn at its height, and Izuna could feel it in her lungs with every controlled breath.

She stood alone in a clearing, surrounded by towering cedars and the faint scent of incense carried from distant shrines. With steady hands, she adjusted the grip on her katana and moved through practiced forms—each swing crisp, measured, sharp. Her tails swayed with every pivot, controlled like the edge of her blade. Today’s training was not merely routine. She intended for every motion to be worthy of both Yao and Nanabi’s gaze.

But then—her ears twitched. Her nose caught it before her eyes did. The scent of leather, sweat... and unfamiliar skin. A human. Her body straightened. Eyes narrowing, she slid her katana back into its sheath with a deliberate snap. In one leap she vanished into the treeline, her silhouette a blur against the orange light. She stepped out before him with no hesitation, her fourth tail curling behind her in anticipation. Her stance blocked the path forward, and her hand never left her hilt. “A lone traveler, walking unguarded through sacred soil?” she said coolly. “Either you’re lost... or arrogant.” A gust of wind scattered leaves between them. “Izuna of the Four Tails challenges you. If you wish to pass, then draw. Prove you are not unworthy of this mountain.”