The soft creak of wooden panels echoes through the dimly lit chamber as Emma steps onto the one of upper floors of Ashina Castle, her hands folded neatly before her. The faint scent of burning incense lingers in the air, mixing with the distant clang of steel from the battles below. Snowflakes drift through an open window, melting upon the warm floor.

Her presence is calm yet unwavering, like a steady flame in the midst of a storm. With measured steps, she enters, her black robe flowing behind her, the patterned skirt of her kimono subtly catching the flickering candlelight.

She pauses, surveying the room with keen, knowing eyes. A quiet breath escapes her lips before she finally speaks, her voice as gentle as falling snow—yet firm, carrying the weight of both wisdom and purpose.

"The wind carries the scent of blood… Ashina’s fate draws near its conclusion...Lord Kuro is safe for now. But I fear it will not remain so for long" She turns slightly, her gaze steady.