Chapter 26: The Otaku Saves a Cultist (For the Worst Possible Reason)
"Okay," he muttered. "Step one is now."
Moonsing moved.
Not with drama.
Not with rage.
Two precise cuts.
The blade whispered once, and the blood circle's geometry faltered.
The lines on the cobblestone trembled, as if veins had been severed mid-pulse.
Above the square, the crack in the air shuddered.
It didn't explode.
It didn't widen.
It destabilized.
The chanting mage screamed.
Not because of the blade.
Because something on the other side reacted.
The air compressed.
Villagers collapsed to their knees.
Several soldiers staggered under sudden pressure.
Bud's claws tightened in Meliodas's collar.
'It noticed.'
The seam of darkness didn't behave like a mind.
It didn't radiate emotion.
It adjusted.
The pressure shifted — like something had leaned closer to examine resistance.
And then—
The distortion narrowed.
Focused.
A thin spear of warped air stabbed downward into the mage's skull.
The man convulsed violently.
His chant shattered into fragments.
"—bloodline—"
"—anchor—"
"—measure—"
His eyes rolled white.
Blood streamed from his nose.
Meliodas felt it clearly.
Not possession.
Not summoning.
Relay.
The mage wasn't being inhabited.
He was being used.
Used as a conduit.
Used as a measuring instrument.
The ritual circle hadn't been built for a full breach.
It had been constructed to test.
The broken geometry had converged toward the center of the square.
Toward the villagers.
Toward where Kaelen had stood.
Royal blood.
Anchor compatibility.
Measured.
Meliodas's jaw tightened.
'So that's what this was.'
Bud flared.
Not wild.
Not uncontrolled.
Condensed golden light pressed upward against the thinning seam.
The crack resisted.
For half a second, the pressure intensified sharply.
Bud stiffened.
'It's pushing back.'
The sensation wasn't anger.
It wasn't fear.
It was correction.
Anomaly detected.
Remove interference.
The seam wavered.
Then thinned further.
The mage screamed once more.
Then collapsed.
Breathing.
Alive.
The crack flickered.
Then dissolved.
The pressure vanished.
Silence crashed over the square.
The captain recovered first.
"Capture them!" he roared. "Don't kill!"
Meliodas heard it clearly.
Capture.
Not execution.
That meant two things:
They needed Kaelen alive.
And they wanted Meliodas examined.
That was worse.
Meliodas moved immediately.
He grabbed the limp mage by the collar and dragged him toward the alley.
Kaelen {Blink}ed beside him in a ripple of displaced air.
"Master—"
"Move."
Kaelen moved.
Not because he was ordered.
Because watching Meliodas fight was like watching water carve stone.
Efficient.
Precise.
Unemotional.
A soldier lunged.
Moonsing shifted — flat side — and the man collapsed, breath knocked out but alive.
Meliodas avoided lethal strikes.
Not here.
Not near whatever had just happened.
Not until he understood whether blood mattered.
Nets flew.
Iron-threaded.
Symbol-etched.
Restraint nets.
Meliodas sliced one midair.
Dodged another.
Kicked a spear aside.
Kaelen cut villagers free in flickering teleports.
Smoke and panic fractured formation.
Meliodas never slowed.
He reached the alley and slammed the mage against the wall.
Blank eyes.
Drool.
Breathing steady.
Mind absent.
Kaelen looked at the man with disgust.
"We should leave him," Kaelen urged. "He caused this."
"Yes."
"Then why—"
"Because he can be useful."
Kaelen didn't like the answer.
But he didn't argue.
He was learning.
Meliodas opened the System.
[SYSTEM ACCESS: SHOP]
His gaze skimmed the list.
He already knew.
[ITEM: WITCHES REJUVENATION PILLS]
[COST: 12 HERO SHARDS]
[CONFIRM PURCHASE? Y/N]
[Y]
[PURCHASE CONFIRMED]
[HERO SHARDS REMAINING: 63]
A vial materialized in his hand.
Kaelen inhaled sharply.
"Master… it just appeared. Do you possess a spatial pouch? Only nobles and Archmages carry those. They're rare. Extremely expensive."
Meliodas filed that away.
'Spatial storage equals wealth or power. Good to know.'
He didn't answer.
He forced a pill into the mage's mouth.
Nothing.
Second pill.
No visible change.
Meliodas activated {Observation Haki}.
Then briefly {Third Eye}.
The mage's mana network was intact.
Overheated.
Overloaded.
Like metal pushed past tolerance.
His nervous system had shut down to protect itself.
Not destroyed.
Strained.
Third pill.
Subtle shift.
Breathing deepened.
Fourth.
Grey at the temples lightened slightly.
Fifth.
The mage convulsed violently.
Then gasped.
His pupils snapped into focus.
Air flooded his lungs.
"What— what happened—"
Meliodas grabbed his jaw.
"Focus."
The mage blinked.
Recognition returned.
Fear followed.
Then confusion.
His hand moved to his face.
He froze.
Skin smoother.
Lines softened.
Hair darker.
He looked ten years younger.
Maybe more.
The mage stared at his own hands.
Behind them—
Footsteps.
A soldier rounded the alley entrance.
He stopped.
He saw:
The prince.
The stranger.
The mage.
The vial in Meliodas's hand.
The mage's changed face.
Blue shimmer.
The vial vanished.
The soldier's eyes widened.
"…Spatial containment."
Recognition.
Assessment.
Then—
"CAPTAIN! OVER HERE!"
Meliodas moved instantly.
He grabbed the mage.
Kaelen grabbed Meliodas.
Air folded.
They {Blink}ed.
---
They reappeared beyond the village, behind a collapsed stone wall in the fields.
Smoke drifted across the horizon.
Shouting continued faintly behind them.
The oppressive pressure was gone.
Bud sagged against Meliodas's shoulder.
His glow dimmed noticeably.
'That wasn't small,' Bud muttered weakly. 'It was pushing hard.'
Meliodas rested his hand briefly against Bud's scales.
'I know.'
The mage sat trembling in the dirt.
He kept touching his face.
"That wasn't a potion," he whispered.
Meliodas folded his arms.
The mage looked up slowly.
"In this world… healing requires infusion. Ritual. Cost."
He swallowed.
"You reversed age. Cleanly."
Kaelen's mind raced.
'Even advanced alchemy leaves residue. Even ritual youth leaves scars.'
The mage's voice shook.
"No degradation. No mana scarring. No backlash."
He looked at Meliodas with new calculation.
"If you are not the alchemist… then you are connected to one."
Kaelen added quietly, "Or heir to one."
The mage nodded slowly.
"Every major nation maintains alchemical circles. Archmages. Towers. Wealth beyond kingdoms."
He studied Meliodas carefully.
"You carry spatial containment. And alchemy unknown here."
Meliodas remained expressionless.
Inside...
'Great. Political complication unlocked.'
The mage continued.
"The king will not try to kill you."
Meliodas arched a brow.
"He will investigate you."
"He will test your temperament."
"He will send scholars first."
"Then diplomats."
"Then pressure."
Kaelen's voice hardened slightly.
"He will want to know whether Master is ally… or independent power."
The mage nodded.
"If you are apprentice to an Archmage, that is delicate."
Meliodas tilted his head.
"Delicate how?"
"Archmages do not answer to kings."
"They negotiate."
"Kings do not command them."
Kaelen added quietly, "Every nation has at least one Archmage. Mage academies. Knight academies. Demon suppression units."
Meliodas exhaled slowly.
'So instead of fugitive, I'm a strategic variable.'
The mage hesitated.
"You saved my mind."
"I did."
"Why?"
"Information."
The mage swallowed.
"What do you want to know?"
Meliodas kept it simple.
"What was that crack?"
The mage flinched.
"It wasn't a full summoning," he said quietly. "It was a calibration breach."
Meliodas didn't interrupt.
"The circle was designed to test anchor compatibility."
"Royal blood stabilizes high-energy manifestations."
"So it was testing Kaelen," Meliodas concluded evenly.
The mage nodded.
"Yes."
"And what was on the other side?"
The mage's breathing shallowed.
"I don't know its classification."
Honest.
"I only know it wasn't minor."
"It wasn't something the academies teach openly."
"There are entities beyond Generals."
"Beyond what's discussed publicly."
Meliodas listened.
No ranks.
No structure.
Just confirmation: Whatever that was, it exceeded mortal scale.
That was enough.
Search patrols moved in the distance.
They didn't have much time.
Kaelen looked at Meliodas.
"Master… what now?"
"You're coming with us," Meliodas told the mage.
The mage stiffened.
"You owe me."
A beat of silence.
The mage nodded.
"I understand."
Kaelen hesitated.
"Master… have you heard the old elemental legends?"
Meliodas glanced at him.
Kaelen continued carefully.
"Ifrit. Sifrana. Helstorma. Terravorn. Luminael. Noxarys. Glacierra. Verdanis. Chronys."
He gave a small embarrassed laugh.
"Scholars say they're allegory."
The mage nodded.
"Personifications of natural forces."
Meliodas hummed noncommittally.
He neither confirmed nor denied.
Kaelen interpreted that silence as depth.
Meliodas was thinking something very different.
'I need a manual for this world.'
Bud nudged him weakly.
'We'll figure it out.'
Meliodas looked back at the smoke rising from the village.
The breach was sealed.
For now.
But something had probed through.
Something had measured.
And something had registered resistance.
He didn't know what it was.
He didn't know how strong it was.
He only knew one thing:
It hadn't liked Bud.
That meant future problems.
He adjusted Bud gently.
'Political arc unlocked,' Bud muttered sleepily.
Meliodas almost smiled.
'Fantastic.'
He turned north.
Kaelen followed without hesitation.
Not worship.
Not blind devotion.
But resolve.
'If I stand beside him… I won't be weak again.'
Behind them, soldiers gathered around the shaken witness.
"A man. Three swords."
"A small dragon."
"Spatial containment."
"And pills that reversed age."
By nightfall the story would spread.
By morning, scribes would copy it.
And soon, somewhere in the capital, a report would reach the king:
The prince lives.
A ritual failed.
A stranger intervened.
A cultist survived, younger than before.
The stranger possesses spatial storage.
And alchemy beyond known refinement.
In a world where rejuvenation required ritual scars and visible cost....
Clean youth would not go unnoticed.
Meliodas walked north.
Not knowing the hierarchy.
Not knowing the structure.
Not knowing what name to give what he had felt.
Only knowing this:
Whatever had looked back through that seam...
It would not forget resistance.
And neither would he.
---
[END OF CHAPTER 26]