Vanessa kept a firm hold on both Xierra and Rhein, her grip unyielding yet light, as she guided them through a winding sprawl of storefronts that branched and folded into one another like a living maze. Fabric awnings brushed overhead in layers of color, glass panes shimmered with reflections of passing brooms and sunlight, and the air carried a shifting blend of metal, herbs, sugar, and ink.
As they walked, Vanessa talked.
"Health recovery herbs, replenishment charms, disposable magic tools—oh, and extra storage seals," she listed with practiced ease, counting on her fingers while steering them around a stack of crates. Her voice carried confidence, the sort that came from repetition and experience rather than authority. Each item slipped naturally into the conversation, as if errands and chatter were inseparable things.
Xierra found herself smiling before she realized it.
There was something effortless about the way Vanessa moved through the market, weaving necessity into levity, making work feel less like an obligation and more like an outing shared between friends. Xierra didn't feel like an outsider being dragged along. She felt included—expected, even.
"Once we've got the important things," Vanessa added with a knowing look over her shoulder, "I'll take you, kids, somewhere special."
The promise alone felt like a secret passed hand to hand.
Vanessa proved just as attentive when it came to the Crimson Lion Kings. At every pause, she took note—bandage salves slipped into her arms, mana restoratives tucked beside them, charms balanced with practiced care. She never asked outright, yet somehow remembered everything, adjusting her haul as though it had all been planned from the start.
Nearby, Noelle and Xierra drifted together, their steps slowing as they passed shops brimming with carved wands, enchanted tomes, and trinkets that glimmered beneath careful lighting. Their conversation flowed easily—shared remarks, quiet reactions, laughter restrained only by the closeness of passersby.
Xierra's gaze rested on the items longer than she allowed her hands to. Each price tag pulled her back, sharp and undeniable. She clasped her fingers together instead, grounding herself. Admiration was harmless. Wanting was not.
Somewhere between errands, she broke away just long enough to indulge Inari.
The fox's delight was immediate.
Honey-dipped meats disappeared one piece at a time, his ears twitching with pleasure as syrup glistened against dark fur. He praised the tenderness with unashamed enthusiasm, declaring it far superior to any boar he'd tasted before. Xierra watched him with quiet amusement, unsure if she could bring herself to try it, sweetness clinging to burnt meat still an odd concept to her senses.
Rhein, for his part, remained reserved. He didn't protest, but neither did he pretend enthusiasm. Still, when Xierra laughed with Noelle and Vanessa, something in his posture eased. He stayed.
Eventually, he leaned closer and tapped her shoulder with a knuckle, gesturing vaguely toward the Black Bulls nearby. "I've picked up everything I needed," he remarked, crooked grin in place. "Can't speak for them, though."
Xierra smiled back. "Same here. Especially Inari's share of honey-dipped meat."
"Honey?" came the repeated response, curiosity spreading through the group at once.
Inari finished the last bite with satisfaction, licking the remaining sweetness from his paw before lifting his head. He blinked at the gathered stares, head tilting. "What? Is there something strange on my face?"
Xierra looked away, warmth creeping up her neck. Rhein exhaled through his nose, gaze drifting elsewhere as he questioned—silently—why he'd ever found a talking fox impressive in the first place.
Vanessa, however, burst into laughter, bright and unrestrained. Acting on impulse, she reached out and planted her hand atop Inari's head.
"You dare touch my head, you witch?!" Inari snapped, fur bristling as he recoiled.
"My, my," Vanessa replied, entirely pleased, fingers retreating at last. "What a charming little companion you have. Charmy will adore him."
They followed Vanessa as she led them away from the open market, her pace unhurried yet deliberate, boots clicking against stone paths that grew narrower with each turn. Stalls thinned, colors dulled, and the air shifted—less sugar and spice, more cold brick and shadow. Somewhere ahead, fabric rustled, and lanterns swayed, their light failing to reach where Vanessa walked.
Xierra drifted closer to the witch without thinking, her curiosity tugging her forward like a loose thread begging to be pulled. She quickened her steps until she matched Vanessa's stride, snowy hair brushing her shoulders as she looked up.
"Vanessa, you mentioned Charmy earlier," Xierra began, voice careful but bright.
Vanessa's smile deepened, fondness softening her gaze. "That's right. She's a chef. She keeps the Black Bulls alive in more ways than one." A laugh slipped from her as she recalled the thought. "You'll meet her soon enough. Trust me."
"I hope so," Xierra replied, her tone lighter than she expected. Her eyes stayed fixed ahead before she released an exaggerated breath and reached up, flicking Inari's forehead. "Honestly, understanding this glutton's food preferences is becoming a full-time job."
Inari recoiled with an offended hiss. Before Vanessa could respond, a low vibration rolled from the fox's chest—deep, rough, and unsettling despite its restraint.
"Enough talk, witch," Inari snapped. "Reveal this 'special place' already."
Vanessa paused, then laughed behind her hand, entirely unbothered. "So impatient. But you're lucky you're cute. Come along, now—this way!"
She turned sharply into an alley.
The passage swallowed them whole.
Brick walls rose close on either side, damp and unyielding, their surfaces scarred by age. The air felt heavier here, sound smothered as though the world had decided to hold its breath. At the far end sat a plain back door and nothing more—no signs, no windows, no promise of anything beyond.
Asta glanced around, confusion written plainly across his face. "This is just an alley, Vanessa."
Xierra opened her mouth to agree—
—and stopped.
Vanessa stepped forward and vanished into the wall.
Magic...?
Her eyes narrowed, instincts sharpening.
"You noticed too, Master," Inari chimed in, tone pleased. "There's magic woven into that wall. Strong enough to fool the careless."
"Figures."
A moment later, Vanessa leaned back through the stone as though it were water, half her body visible, grin wide and mischievous. She waved them closer, voice hushed but lively. "Over here."
"Through the wall?!" Asta blurted.
Rhein laughed under his breath, clearly entertained by the reaction, though his posture stayed alert. One by one, they followed Vanessa, hands brushing the surface before passing through. The barrier tingled against Xierra's skin, cool and unfamiliar, before releasing her into—
Another world. Or another market, it seemed.
Warm light greeted them, suspended lanterns drifting overhead like captured stars. The ceiling arched low, enclosing the space in a way that felt deliberate, secretive. Stalls lined the path on either side, merchants cloaked in dark fabrics, faces hidden, voices kept low. Symbols hung above each doorway—cryptic, foreign, alluring.
Xierra slowed, eyes tracing every sign, every subtle movement. Nothing here felt accidental.
She turned toward Vanessa, the question already forming—
"It's the black market," Vanessa announced with ease.
Xierra absorbed the words in silence, steps measured as she continued forward beside Rhein. Unease coiled beneath her curiosity, tight and alert.
The world beyond the wall had teeth.
They moved deeper into the dimmed market, their steps unhurried as stalls slid past them one by one. Xierra's attention drifted freely, drawn from counter to counter as if tugged by invisible threads. Skulls of wild beasts rested beside polished artifacts, their hollow gazes fixed on nothing at all. Some objects gleamed with refined craftsmanship, others looked crude, almost feral, yet all of them carried a presence—mana pressed into shape, humming just beneath the surface.
"It's a little dangerous," Vanessa commented lightly, turning her head as she walked, "but the effects are no joke." She paused to acknowledge a cloaked seller offering her a velvet-lined case of new stock, then waved him off with an easy smile before continuing.
Xierra released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, laughter slipping out in a nervous puff. She glanced at Asta, whose eyes were stretched wide with unfiltered wonder, and found her own expression mirrored there.
She had passed through the castle town countless times before, yet never once had she imagined something like this coiled beneath it—thriving, breathing, and unapologetic.
Behind them, Rhein and Noelle exchanged looks, silent and sharp. Their gazes swept over every stall, every hooded figure, measuring risk with each step. Vanessa noticed at once.
"Surprised?" she asked, casting them a knowing glance over her shoulder. "Royals and nobles tend to avoid places like this. Old habits and fears."
Prejudice.
The word lodged itself in Xierra's thoughts, heavy and unyielding. She stared ahead as the market continued to unfold, lantern light brushing against stone and cloth alike. The Clover Kingdom prided itself on beauty, on order—but beneath it all ran seams like these, hidden and running, born from exclusion rather than choice.
Here, no one pretended equality came easily.
Noelle slowed, lips parting as though she meant to speak, but the sheer scale of the place stole the words from her. Rhein fared no better. His velvet eyes fixed on a stall displaying raw mineral stones and uncut gems, their colors deep and unrestrained. Want flickered across his face—quick, quiet, and denied before it could fully surface.
Vanessa noticed that too, and laughed, clearly delighted. She drifted closer to Noelle, tilting her head. "You still haven't mastered your magic control, have you?"
Noelle stiffened, cheeks warming. She glanced sideways but didn't protest, waiting.
"You're good at keeping it contained," Vanessa continued, finger lifting thoughtfully. "But not much else."
"That's... true," Noelle admitted, voice tight. "But why bring it up?"
Vanessa gestured ahead. "Because places like this sell tools meant to help people like you. Find the right item, match it with your mana, and you'll control your magic in no time."
They passed a jewelry stall just then, glass cases filled with rings and pendants that shimmered far too invitingly. A sudden prickle crawled up Xierra's spine—an oppressive mana coiled tight around the pieces. She shifted instinctively, stepping closer to Rhein's opposite side, gaze fixed firmly ahead.
Rhein caught it and snorted, shoulders shaking faintly. "You're consistent, I'll give you that."
She shot him a look but didn't deny it.
From the corner of her eye, Xierra noticed Noelle's expression soften. Subtle. Controlled. But relief lived there, even if she refused to name it. Inari, meanwhile, let out a long yawn and curled against Xierra's shoulders, his form fading until only the weight remained.
Rhein blinked. "Did he just disappear?"
Xierra laughed under her breath. "You and Leo interrupted his nap earlier. He's reclaiming it."
"Ah." Rhein nodded once. "My bad, Inari."
A sudden burst of noise cut through the corridor—raised voices, laughter, the sharp clatter of something colliding with wood. Asta's head snapped toward a curtained doorway nearby, eyes alight. "Sounds intense in there."
Xierra and Noelle slowed, interest catching despite themselves.
Vanessa peeked over their shoulders, lips curving upward. "Casino area. Definitely not for you kids."
That warning barely had time to settle before Xierra and Asta crept closer, curiosity winning out. She nudged the curtain aside just enough to glimpse inside—
—and immediately recoiled.
Smoke burned her nose, sharp with alcohol and heat. Tables crowded with men, cards slapped down hard, voices raised in challenge and laughter. She stepped back at once, shaking her head.
Absolutely not.
Asta, however, leaned in again, stubborn as ever. His eyes lit up. "Hey—wait! Isn't that—"
A roar cut through the room.
"All right! Bring it on!!!"
Senior Magna's voice tore through the haze, wild and fearless, arm thrown high in challenge.
Vanessa laughed behind them, thoroughly entertained. "That's why beginners should stay clear," she teased. "Some tables don't forgive mistakes. You'll be robbed of everything you own."
Xierra took a careful step back from the curtain, heart beating faster—not with fear, but with the sudden understanding that this place held far more than trinkets and secrets.
Asta gave a quiet hum, eyes still trained on the curtained entrance, as though the noise within might spill back out at any moment. Vanessa watched him for a heartbeat longer, her expression briefly sharp with caution, before she turned away. Her attention slid easily to the rest of the group, settling on Rhein—who was shifting on his heels far too obviously for someone pretending not to care.
She smiled, slow and knowing.
"Why don't you indulge yourself a little?" Vanessa offered, lifting her hand toward the deeper stretch of stalls where mineral light glimmered in layered hues. "Just don't wander too far. We don't want you to get lost and get into trouble."
Rhein didn't bother hiding his delight. "Gladly, ma'am," he answered briskly, already moving. In the span of a breath, he vanished into the crowd, posture alight with barely restrained excitement. Stones, gems, pendants—his hands moved with quick certainty, scooping treasures from plush-lined cases as though the market had been waiting for him alone.
Vanessa watched him go, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Such a straightforward boy," she remarked, clearly entertained. "Honest in his wants, at least."
Xierra followed Rhein's retreating figure with a faint smile, warmth blooming in her chest at the sight. There was something disarming about how unguarded he became when faced with things he loved—no titles, no expectations, just a boy chasing color and everything that sparkles. It made the shadowed market feel lighter, if only by a fraction.
Vanessa turned then, clapping her hands once, attention returning to the two girls. "Now," she said brightly, stepping toward the wand displays, "shall we find something for you?"
.
.
.
The black market unfolded around them like a living mosaic—fabric canopies layered in dusk-heavy colors, lanternlight bleeding through stained glass jars, and voices crossing in sharp bargains and delighted gasps from buyers.
Vanessa moved at the front with easy confidence, her presence parting the crowd without effort. On either side of her walked Xierra and Noelle, their shoulders nearly brushing as they followed through the narrow passageways between stalls.
Every table held temptation. Rings set with humming cores, charms etched with sigils worn smooth by countless hands, crystals glowing faintly beneath glass domes. Xierra slowed more than once, her gaze tracking the quiet promise buried within each object. She watched Noelle closely, too—how her fingers hovered, then pulled back, how her breath tightened whenever a piece flared too brightly. It wasn't hard to tell what they were searching for.
Vanessa noticed everything. She guided them with a practiced eye, pausing only when something seemed worth their time, dismissing the rest with a flick of her wrist.
"Most of this is just flashy nonsense," she remarked, glancing over her shoulder. "But now and then, you'll find something that's actually worthwhile."
That was when Xierra stopped.
It wasn't the loudest stall, nor the brightest. Tucked between two fabric-draped counters sat a modest display, its contents arranged with careful spacing. At its center hung a necklace, suspended as though gravity had briefly forgotten it. Silver strands caught the light in thin, clean lines, drawing the eye down to a single stone that glimmered like frost beneath moonlight.
Xierra felt it before she reached for it—a gentle pull, quiet but insistent.
She asked permission with a glance. The vendor nodded, already smiling.
The necklace rested cool against her palm, lighter than expected. The stone refracted the lantern glow into pale shards that shifted as she turned it, each angle revealing something new. Xierra lifted it slightly, holding it out so Noelle and Vanessa could see. "What about this one?"
Vanessa's reaction was immediate. "Oh? That's an Argentium Crystallum." Delight sparked across her face. "Good catch, lil' cutie!"
Noelle leaned closer, eyes widening despite herself. "It's pretty," she admitted, then straightened, crossing her arms. "But I don't need it. If you want it, you should get it."
Xierra smiled at that—small, appreciative—and nodded once before looking back to the vendor.
The woman behind the stall had hair like spun silver and eyes sharp with humor. She laughed, the sound bright and unapologetic. "Rare piece, that one. Dug up from ruins buried beneath the northern wastes, guarded by the most terrifying beasts!"
Vanessa let out a long breath, unimpressed. "You really enjoy your stories." She tipped her head, studying the necklace. "It is rare, but let's not exaggerate. Argentium Crystallum forms naturally in the north of Clover. The danger lies in extraction, not the monsters."
Xierra glanced at Noelle, the two of them sharing a look that held equal parts doubt and amusement.
The vendor shrugged. "Stories sell better than stones."
Vanessa stepped closer to Xierra, tapping the air near the necklace. "It amplifies magic output. Not for long—its reserves burn fast. But if you integrate it into your grimoire, the effect stabilizes. Permanent reinforcement." Her gaze flicked meaningfully to the silver grimoire at Xierra's side.
Noelle blinked. "You can feed grimoires?" The notion sounded impossible.
Vanessa chuckled, lifting her own grimoire and giving its cover a fond pat. "Not quite feeding it, but close enough. Artifacts like this can be absorbed for specific uses."
Xierra lowered her gaze to the necklace again, weighing its presence. It felt compatible. As though it understood restraint as much as strength.
The vendor watched her carefully. "So, child. Interested?"
Xierra thought of her first wages, carefully counted and tucked away. Of the weight she carried as a Magic Knight still learning where she stood. Vanessa negotiated with ease, cutting through the inflated price until the final sum settled into something fair, if still significant.
Xierra nodded once. "I'll take it."
The vendor grinned, satisfied. "Brilliant. A wise choice."
They moved on soon after, the crowd swallowing the stall behind them. Xierra held the necklace close, fingers curled around the cool silver. Vanessa bumped her lightly at the hip, playful and approving. "Your first real purchase. Not bad at all."
Xierra returned her smile as they drifted deeper into the market's core, where the lanternlight grew warmer, and the pathways narrowed into a patchwork of footsteps and voices. Stalls pressed close together, their awnings stitched from layered fabrics that smelled faintly of incense and old parchment. Each stop brought a fresh inspection—charms lifted and turned, rings tested for weight, crystals examined for steadiness.
She trailed a half-step behind, content to watch.
Vanessa and Noelle filled the space easily. Vanessa belonged here, it seemed, teasing vendors and lifting trinkets with dramatic flair, while Noelle responded with sharp honesty that spared no feelings. Their exchange bounced back and forth, light and lively, drawing smiles from passersby and mild offense from sellers whose wares were judged wanting.
"That one looks like it was carved by a blind mole," Noelle commented, arms folding tight.
Vanessa laughed and set it down. "You're ruthless."
Xierra glanced down at her own hands, where the necklace's shell rested against her palm. The Argentium Crystallum no longer pulsed with power—its magic now infused into the pages of her grimoire—but the stone still caught the light beautifully. Silver strands brushed against her fingers as they moved, swaying in time with the unseen current that threaded through the alley.
She didn't regret it. Not the yuls spent, nor the choice itself.
It felt like two purchases made at once—one practical, one deeply personal.
Her thoughts wandered, unspooling gently. Candied fruit wrapped in paper for the children in Hage. New ribbons, Recca might trade with her if she were to go back to Hage, laughing as they tested colors against their sleeves. Small wooden toys, imperfect and beloved, passed from hand to hand until their edges wore smooth.
A quiet smile settled on her lips.
Growing up with little had taught her restraint, but it had never erased her appreciation for beauty. There was nothing frivolous about wanting lovely things. Art—whether carved, painted, worn, or shared—held a weight beyond usefulness. It existed to be felt, not justified.
Xierra lifted the necklace and slid it into its pouch, fastening it beside her grimoire. Even emptied, it remained a reminder. Proof that she was allowed to choose something simply because it made her heart feel full.
She quickened her steps and rejoined them.
Vanessa had already found another candidate, holding it up between two fingers. "Noelle, what about this one?"
Noelle studied it for barely a second. "Ugly."
Vanessa sighed theatrically and tried again.
"That one too."
Xierra laughed under her breath, falling into step beside them as they continued browsing, the three of them moving in easy sync. She felt lighter than she had in weeks.
The shift came abruptly.
A shadow stretched across their path, followed by a voice far too pleased with itself. "Well, well. What are you three doing in a place like this?"
They turned as one.
The man leaned against a nearby wall, tall and broad-shouldered, his grin sharpened by a confident tilt of the head. He winked, clearly enjoying the attention he believed he commanded.
Xierra felt irritation rise immediately, her expression smoothing into cool indifference. She looked away, gaze returning to the stall in front of her. Inari, of course, remained silent—fast asleep and utterly unhelpful. A shame. He would have had plenty to say.
The man didn't take the hint.
He adjusted his stance, looming closer than necessary. "This isn't a place for ladies like you. You lost? I'm an elite Magic Knight. I'll escort you out."
Vanessa yawned, long and exaggerated.
Noelle's eyes narrowed. "Vanish, insect."
Xierra offered a small, polite smile that held no warmth. "No thanks. We're fine."
The self-proclaimed elite Magic Knight wilted under their collective indifference, sweat gathering at his temples as his confidence unraveled thread by thread. His posture stiffened, smile faltering—then shattered entirely when a voice cut through the narrow stretch of the market with unchecked enthusiasm.
"Heyyyyy! Look at this awesome item I found!!"
Xierra turned at the sound, barely managing to keep her composure.
Asta bounded toward them, arms raised high in triumph. Dangling from his grip was a lopsided doll stitched together from mismatched fabric, its buttoned eyes uneven and wildly expressive. One arm was longer than the other, and the seams looked as though they had been repaired more times than she could count.
It looked... alive. In the worst way possible.
She pressed her lips together, shoulders trembling with the effort to contain her laughter. Of course, this was what had caught his attention.
Undoubtedly, Asta possessed the strangest taste among them.
"Don't you dare tell me you bought that," Noelle remarked horrifyingly, arms crossing as she stared at the doll as if it might spring to life and attack. There was a quiet plea in her tone—one she would never admit aloud.
Xierra had been seconds away from agreeing when she caught movement from the corner of her eye.
The blond man froze, his earlier bravado dissolving as he stared at Asta with open confusion. "Huh?"
Something about the way his shoulders tensed tugged at Xierra's memory. She studied him again, more carefully this time—the stiff stance, the forced composure, and the annoyingly stupid laugh that rolled too easily from his tongue.
Asta paused mid-step, squinting at him. "...Huh? You're the har dude!"
The man nearly tripped over his own feet. "It's Sekke! Sekke! Har!"
Recognition finally clicked into place.
"Oh," Xierra breathed, understanding settling in as the memory surfaced. The entrance exam. Asta's opponent—the one who had strutted so confidently before being utterly outmatched. Sekke.
That explained it.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.
Noelle broke it first, eyes narrowing as she glanced between the two men. "Who is he?"
Vanessa tilted her head, interest piqued.
Asta shrugged, entirely unbothered. "He took the entrance exam with me."
That was it. No judgment, no explanation—just a fact, offered and released.
The anti-bird that had shadowed Asta since that day fluttered down without warning, settling neatly on Sekke's shoulder. It made no sound. Didn't peck. Didn't move. It simply stared.
Xierra noticed how Sekke stiffened, clearly unsettled by the creature's presence.
Her gaze returned to him, unease blooming faintly in her chest. So he made it in. The Green Mantis, if she remembered correctly. She hadn't expected that—hadn't wanted to, if she was honest.
With the added scruff shadowing his face, he looked older now. Less like a rival, more like someone drifting through life without a clear anchor.
Sekke scoffed, recovering just enough to sneer. "Going gambling with the ladies now? Even though you're a peasant? If you've got time to waste, you should be doing odd jobs and earning merit."
Xierra felt her brow twitch.
The words scraped against old irritation, sharp and unwelcome. Memories of their clash stirred beneath the surface, heat flaring briefly in her chest. She inhaled slowly, grounding herself, and let the moment pass without response.
Some arguments weren't worth the breath.
Asta, however, beamed as if he hadn't heard a thing.
"Hey, listen!" he announced, voice bright with pride. "On my first mission, I got a star from the Wizard King!!"
Noelle turned to him immediately. "You mean we," she corrected, firm but gentle.
Sekke's composure cracked in an instant.
Inside his head, panic screeched like scraping metal, but outwardly he forced a laugh that landed awkwardly in the narrow passage. He cleared his throat, eyes sliding away from Asta's bright expression as though eye contact alone might expose him.
"Tha... that's not bad," he managed, lips tugging into a crooked grin that strained at the edges. "I just got my second star, actually."
Silence answered him.
Xierra and Noelle stared. Hard.
Noelle raised a hand and pressed her fingers to her face, dragging them down in a slow, tired gesture. Xierra's stare held steady, unimpressed, her thoughts blunt and immediate.
That's obviously a lie.
Whatever this outing had been meant to accomplish, it was quickly spiraling into something far stranger.
Then—
"Thief! Stop!"
The cry tore through the market like a blade.
Conversation snapped apart. Heads turned. Lanternlight shuddered as bodies shifted, and the hum of trade twisted into sharp confusion. The old woman from before—the vendor with silver-threaded hair and a voice far too lively for her age—burst into view, skirts gathered in trembling hands.
She pointed wildly ahead, breath hitching. "Thief! Someone, stop him!!"
Before Xierra could react, a cloaked figure barreled past her.
The impact struck her shoulder hard enough to throw her off balance. Her foot slid against the stone, breath punching from her lungs—
Vanessa caught her instantly, arm firm around her waist. The witch's gaze followed the retreating shape with sharp focus, her earlier amusement gone in a blink.
Inari appeared in a flash of pale light, paws hitting the ground as he steadied Xierra's leg, careful not to topple her further.
"I'm fine," Xierra breathed, straightening as her pulse raced. Her eyes followed the thief.
The man didn't slow.
"Wind Magic: Bandit's Cloud Wind!"
Dust and heated air swirled as he launched forward, pouches clutched tight against his chest. Coins clinked harshly inside, heavy with ill-gotten weight. Magic Knights shouted from behind, startled and scrambling.
"My winnings—! Stop!!" the old woman cried, collapsing to her knees, hands outstretched as though she could pull the thief back through sheer will.
Xierra's jaw tightened. She understood now. Gambling. Desperation. It was a risk taken too far.
Yet Asta was already on his feet, moving towards the thief with his grimoire in hand. He bolted without hesitation, soles striking stone as Xierra's voice chased after him. "Asta! Oh, gosh—you, idiot!! Don't rush in without a plan!!"
Noelle stepped forward, calm sharpening her posture. "Right in front of Magic Knights... bold," she noted, pages of her grimoire flipping rapidly beneath her fingers.
Xierra didn't hesitate.
Her pouch came free in one smooth motion. The silver-bound grimoire lifted into the air at her command, pages unfolding beneath a faint astral glow. Her focus locked onto the fleeing figure, breath steadying as instinct and intent aligned.
They were ready to give chase—
"Har!"
Sekke burst into laughter, planting himself squarely in their path. His grimoire snapped open with exaggerated flair.
"Bronze Creation Magic: Sekke Shooting Star!" He flashed a wink, chest puffed with confidence. "I'll handle this. You young ladies just relax."
Xierra blinked.
"What—" she started.
"Disgusting," Noelle snapped.
Vanessa covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. "Lame," she declared, laughter slipping free despite herself.
Sekke vanished in a streak of bronze.
Xierra exhaled once, sharp and focused.
"Inari," she called, already moving. "Let's go."
The fox yelped in surprise before darting after her, paws barely touching the ground as she surged forward. Her grimoire responded instantly, pages flipping as silver light traced symbols across the air.
Her voice cut clean through the chaos.
"Astral Magic." The alley dimmed, lanternlight bending as a pale, shifting glow spilled overhead—like moonlight pulled too close to earth. "Moon Wax Ritual!"
The spell unfurled in stages.
A slick, luminous substance spread across the stone ahead of the thief, pale as candlelight yet threaded with heat. It crept around his boots, clinging as his body warmth fed it. The faster he ran, the more it softened—until wind surged from his spell and the wax stiffened instantly, locking his steps mid-stride.
His momentum betrayed him.
Xierra's eyes shone as she closed the distance, magic steady in her grasp, heart pounding hard enough that she feared she had gone too far with the spell.
Panic finally carved through the thief's bravado.
He twisted violently, boots scraping against stone as the wax crept higher, pale and luminous against the grime of the alley. He snarled and yanked a hand knife free, blade flashing as he hacked downward. The first strike chipped nothing. The second drew sparks. By the third, the wax had already stiffened again, turning glassy beneath the knife's edge.
Wind surged around him in frustrated bursts.
Each spell only betrayed him further.
Heat bled from his body, breath ragged, sweat soaking through cloth—and the wax responded greedily. It softened for a heartbeat, then hardened at once, thicker than before, clinging to his calves like shackles forged from moonlight.
"Damn it—!!" he spat, wrenching one leg free by sheer force. The effort cost him time, but desperation sharpened his strength. With a final wrench, he tore himself loose, stumbling forward as shards of wax cracked away and scattered across the ground.
That moment was all Xierra needed.
"Inari—now!"
The fox surged beneath her in a flash of expanding light, form swelling into something vast and powerful. Xierra vaulted onto his back without hesitation, fingers burying into thick fur as he launched forward.
They flew through the alley.
Barrels toppled. Crates shattered. The thief hurled debris behind him in blind panic, anything to slow pursuit. Inari dodged with practiced ease, paws striking walls and ledges alike, rebounding from narrow surfaces with fluid precision.
They passed Sekke.
His so-called Sekke Shooting Star rattled clumsily through the passage, bronze contraption clanking and sparking as he flailed for balance. Xierra spared him no glance. Her eyes stayed locked ahead—on Asta's figure, tearing through the alley like a force of nature.
Wind magic pushed the thief onward despite the wax still weighing his steps, but Inari adapted effortlessly. His tail unfurled behind him, long and sinuous, trailing through the air like braided smoke—utterly out of place among stacked crates and shuttered stalls.
Asta was closing in.
His strides struck hard and fast, muscles coiled with intent as he raised his sword, teeth bared in fierce determination. He was close enough now that Xierra could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his grip tightened in anticipation.
"We really should've planned this—!! That idiot!" Inari slowed abruptly, and Xierra's teeth clenched. She leaned forward, heart pounding, mind racing.
"Astral Magic," she called, steady despite the chaos. "Earthshine Waltz!"
Crescent-shaped light burst from her grimoire, skimming low across the ground. The glow slid beneath Asta's boots, wrapping his soles in controlled astral force. Xierra adjusted the output with careful precision—enough to drive him forward, not enough to harm.
Asta jolted in surprise. But he adapted almost instantly. He leaned into the push, letting the spell carry him, boots barely touching the air as he surged ahead. His laughter rang bright and fierce as he pointed his sword forward.
"Hold it, you!"
The thief barely had time to react.
Asta swung, anti-magic crashing through the air and shredding the wind spell mid-cast. The pressure vanished in an instant. The thief lurched, balance gone, limbs flailing as he stumbled forward.
Xierra arrived just in time.
Inari skidded to a halt, tail snapping around her waist to keep her steady as momentum threatened to throw her forward. At the same time, his jaws snapped shut around Asta's collar, catching him mid-fall.
The sight was absurd.
Asta dangled from the fox's mouth, arms flailing once before he froze, blinking. "Uh—hi?"
Xierra huffed a breathless laugh despite herself.
"Astral Magic: Moon Wax Ritual."
The remaining wax surged as if summoned by gravity itself, pooling from the thief's feet and climbing upward. It swallowed his legs, then his torso, hardening layer by layer. His arms pinned against his sides, only his head left free as he gasped and struggled.
He tried another wind spell.
The wax reacted instantly—thickening, sealing tighter as the gale fed its transformation.
Xierra exhaled sharply, shoulders loosening as victory settled in. She met Asta's gaze, a grin breaking across her face.
Asta grinned back, upside down and entirely unbothered.
Inari released him gently, shrinking as he landed before leaping up to perch on Xierra's shoulder. The two Magic Knights bumped fists, exhilaration buzzing between them.
Then—
"Har!"
Sekke spectacularly crashed into the scene.
His bronze contraption slammed directly into the restrained thief, jolting the wax bindings loose for a split second. The impact sent everyone reeling.
"No—wait—!!" Xierra snapped, grip tightening on her grimoire.
Too late.
The thief forced one arm free, fingers clawing desperately. A blade flashed—a Paralysis Knife—and before anyone could react, he drove it straight into Sekke's left foot.
Time seemed to freeze as Sekke screamed. "Gyaarghhhhhh!!! What is this?!"
Xierra's breath caught. "Sekke?!"
"Are you okay, Har Dude?!" Asta shouted, panic cutting through his usual cheer.
Sekke toppled dramatically, body stiffening as he flailed, one leg hoisted uselessly while the rest of him collapsed in an undignified sprawl.
"Puh—P-P-P—" he gasped, eyes wide with terror. "Poi... poi... poisoooooon...!!"
"Huh? Uh—don't die yet!!" Asta yelled, rushing forward as Xierra hurried to reinforce the wax, sealing the thief completely at last.
The alley fell into stunned silence—broken only by Sekke's ongoing wail.
"Get some help, you idiot!"
"R-Right!! Err, hang in there, Har Dude!!"
To Be Continued...