The city that bleeds in silence
In the eastern lands, beyond the ancient borders of Arashima, there was a city covered in black dust. It was called Kuronami , though few spoke of it anymore. Its story was simple: a place judged, condemned, and forgotten. The roots of the Tree never grew there. Not because they couldn't. But because the Tree rejected them.
The city survived with technology, with commerce, with controlled violence. Its inhabitants grew accustomed to living without spiritual vibration. Without temples. Without judgment. But now, something new was growing among its ruins: white roots.
They weren't roots of the Tree. They weren't part of the net. But they glowed at night and left marks on the skin of those who touched them. Marks without names. Without translation.
And worse still: they began to resonate with the emotions of the living.
The witness without faith
Akihiko arrived in Kuronami three days after leaving Kagebara. The pilgrim root was still alive within the stone. But now it had leaves. Pale, soft leaves that seemed to react to the air, the weather… and human suffering.
On the edge of town, a group of children played near a crevice where new roots were sprouting. One of them, upon touching them, began to cry for no reason. Another laughed until he bled. A third remained silent for hours. He didn't sleep. He didn't eat. He just watched.
Akihiko approached. No one stopped him. The people of Kuronami didn't have priests. He wasn't afraid. But he did have one certainty: everything that comes without a name… brings consequences.
A woman recognized him. Her name was Yuriko , a former inquisitor of the Hōgen Clan. She had resigned after the fall of the Tree. She now lived as a spiritual doctor, though she had no patients. Only memories.
—You're Akihiko, aren't you? The one who walked with the hill. The one who stopped believing.
"It's not faith that moves me," he replied. "It's… resonance."
—And that root you carry with you?
Akihiko looked at the stone. The leaves were fluttering. As if they understood the question.
—I still don't know if it's a sign... or a warning.
III. The Three Voices of Kuronami
Yuriko led him to the oldest part of the city: a crater where a temple once stood. There, three people were waiting for him. They weren't priests. Not mobsters. Not judges. They were Sleeping Voices : humans marked by their new roots, capable of projecting emotions just by looking at you.
The first, Naotaka , spoke sadly. His every word induced melancholy. Not by manipulation, but by reflex. The second, Hime , projected euphoria. Being around her made Akihiko want to fight, run, scream. The third, Jun , was absolutely silent. His presence erased all other emotions. As if an empty space were walking with a human body.
These three Voices were part of a new phenomenon. They weren't warriors. They weren't preachers. They were instruments of an unauthorized spiritual network.
And they were about to bloom.
The echo of a power without consensus
That night, in Kuronami, something awoke. New roots began to move. They wove between buildings, grew beneath the streets, climbed up through windows.
And in the middle of the city, where a square had once stood, a white flower sprouted from the ground . Not an ordinary flower. It was a miniature of the white root. Not as powerful. Not as brilliant. But with a pure, ancient, real vibration.
And then, the sky changed.
It didn't rain. It didn't thunder. But everyone in Kuronami felt a heartbeat. Not in their chest. In their conscience. A presence that didn't speak. That didn't ask permission. That simply wanted to exist.
Akihiko knelt. Not out of devotion. Out of respect.
And in his mind, a formless voice whispered:
"Trial was choice. I am the answer."
The arrival of those who want to stop him
Hours later, before dawn, a Carbon Settlement convoy arrived on the outskirts of Kuronami. They weren't diplomats. They weren't Doubles. They were enforcers. They carried spears with modified spirit cores. Tools designed to destroy roots of any kind.
But when they entered the city, something went wrong. The roots didn't attack. They didn't defend themselves. They just changed color. They turned black. Then transparent. Then invisible.
And one by one, the Accord's weapons stopped working. As if someone had cut the power... from within their souls.
Akihiko appeared among them, walking.
"You can't stop something that doesn't require authorization," he said.
And then, the leaves of his stone opened completely. A new root grew in his palm. And the world… was never the same again.
END OF CHAPTER 110