The mysterious little man's face was so wrinkled and shrunken that his eyes had become, over time, two thin lines drooping downward. Following the same downward trajectory, a pair of smooth white whiskers waved under his chin, brushing against a goatee of the same color.

The old man's hands were not visible, crossed over each other under the two wide sleeves of his brown kimono. Judging by his rather distinctive appearance, he had all the earmarks of a monk.

​​

"Who dares enter the residence of His Royal Highness at this time of night?" the old monk grumbled, moving slowly towards the guards and their prisoner.

"Um... hi. Greetings, sir! My name is Satow Utemaro, and I am the head of the guards of the thirty-second division of the south entrance," the helmetless man announced. "I beg forgiveness for the late-night intrusion, but we have urgent news for His Majesty the Emperor. If we could, we would have come to the palace at the crack of dawn, but he has explicitly requested not to wait further in case of success," Satow explained, sputtering so as not to be interrupted.

"In case of success? What sort of task have you been assigned? Did you happen to find..."

"Come on, when are these antics going to end?" Ryutaro interrupted, tired of being subjected to all those unnecessary bureaucratic procedures.

"You... you are…" the old monk stammered, trying to focus on the gatekeeper and furrowing his balding eyebrows at his irreverence.

"I am Ryutaro, yes. Now let us pass, please. My legs are tired, and I can't wait all night to meet Shinzo," the gatekeeper replied, showing everyone his authority.

"How dare you call His Majesty the Emperor by his first name! You're history in here, Ryutaro! You're nobody anymore," the old monk grunted loudly, grinding the few remaining teeth in his shrivelled mouth. Meanwhile, Satow and his guards didn't know how to interact.

"Now I remember perfectly! There's a bounty on your head, you old traitor. His Majesty the Emperor will punish you as you deserve!" the Imperial councillor growled. "Are you really so eager to be thrown into the filthy prisons of the Palace? Go on, then! I will not be the one to slow down your sentence!" he added, stepping aside and ordering the guards to proceed.

Satow looked at Ryutaro, then at the old monk. Perhaps those two veterans had known each other for quite some time, and judging by the harsh tones of their dialogue, they didn't seem to be getting along particularly well.

Without continuing with idle chatter, the head of the guards bowed his head out of respect and walked past the old advisor, followed by Ryutaro and his men.

Finally, about ten minutes after their entrance into the palace, they found themselves in front of the throne room doors. Once again, the splendor and magnificence of the interior of the nation's most important building left everyone speechless.

Ryutaro was stunned at such a waste of wealth: going against the principles that his late father held most sacred, the current Emperor had built a pure gold door to the Throne Room.

From the most superficial finishing touches to the two large rings supported between the jaws of two tigers, that door alone could have helped entire poor quarters of the city, forced to live in misery and unhygienic conditions.

Discouraged by that vision, the gatekeeper waited for the door to be opened by Satow to crown the havoc he was forced to witness. Like the door, in the throne room, other precious trinkets, curtains made from the most delicate fabrics and rare artefacts belonging to antiquity adorned the room where the Emperor received his guests.

Weapons and armor lined the walls, on which hundreds of works of art belonging to the most famous artists of Tentochu were displayed. A fresco depicted a giant white tiger with its jaws wide open on the ceiling, surrounded by lightning and storm clouds.

In the center of that fierce, streaked feline's face, two yellow eyes pierced the darkness of the sky, depicting the magnificence and power of the Imperial Family, the only one that possessed the Torasagi, the flying-tiger demon.

When the incredulous gazes of the guards finished admiring the painting, they gradually lowered to the end of the room, the heart of the Imperial Palace. What could possibly be the material that made up the Emperor's great throne?

Gold. Gold everywhere, of the highest quality and finest quality. From the armrests to the backrest, the throne contained so much gold to do envy to the nation's biggest mines.

Satow and his soldiers dared not go beyond the threshold defined by the end of the carpet, which widened into a larger carpet at the edge of Shinzo's throne. Its backrest was high and pointed, curving slightly forward as if to resemble a tusk.

To its left, a smaller throne of metal and wood adorned with other precious stones was probably the seat of Empress Kayoko, Shinzo's wife.

The sudden sound of applause echoed through the hall, coming from the areas behind the gaudy throne. Not knowing what would happen in those moments of apparent calm, the man without a helmet and his guards remained alert and focused, assuming a rigid and strict stance.

Ryutaro stayed still behind them with his gaze pointed in the direction of that sound.

*clap*clap*clap*

"Who would have thought?" - a deep, manly voice concluded that ironic clap. Someone made his entrance into the hall, slowly popping out from behind the golden throne.

"Emperor Nishiyama! Your Majesty!" Satow trembled, kneeling on the ground and stretching his arms forward with his forehead between his elbows. As soon as they saw their captain, the two soldiers mirrored his gesture, sensing the divine presence of the Emperor.

"Kawada Ryutaro. At last, we meet again, gatekeeper," Shinzo Nishiyama spoke, manifesting himself in all his magnificence.

In Ryutaro's memories, the Emperor of Tentochu was only a teenager when he was exiled from the Palace along with most of Tatsui's servants. Now, however, Shinzo had become a full-grown, good-looking man, visually suited to the role he had inherited from his father.

"No one has called me that in a long time, your highness," Ryutaro replied. He placed one of his old hands on his abdomen and bent his torso forward, bowing in respect. At the same time, the black veil in front of his face followed that movement, reminding the Emperor and everyone present that no one had seen his face since his exile.