Far beyond the warm glow of the Imperial Capital's lantern-lit avenues, where noble estates gradually thinned into stretches of undeveloped land, stood the skeletal remains of an abandoned mansion.
Its iron gates sagged inward, one hinge completely torn free. Rust flaked from the bars like dried blood. Ivy strangled the outer stone walls, creeping through cracks and prying apart what mortar still held. The windows were hollow—dark, empty sockets staring into the night like the eyes of a corpse long forgotten.
The estate had once belonged to a minor noble house.
Not disgraced.
Not publicly executed.
Not exiled.
Simply… erased.
Records sealed. Lineage extinguished. Property reclaimed by the Empire.
Technically, the land remained for sale—prime territory bordering the capital's outer perimeter—but the price was outrageous due to its proximity to the Imperial Palace. The cost to restore the crumbling structure was even worse. Nobles preferred polished marble halls and curated gardens, not haunted relics with uncomfortable histories.
So the mansion remained.
Abandoned.
Unwanted.
Perfect.
The warped wooden doors groaned open under a slow push.
Moonlight spilled across dust-choked floors.
Polished shoes clicked softly against debris.
A young man stepped inside.
Daisuke Taiko.
His formal attire from the ball remained immaculate, though his posture no longer carried the eager confidence he once displayed in the ballroom. His jaw was tight. His eyes burned—not with rage alone, but with something deeper.
Something wounded.
Shadows shifted along the walls.
From behind collapsed pillars and broken archways, black-masked figures emerged. Their movements were silent, precise. They formed a loose perimeter around the center of the hall.
There, beneath the shattered remains of a once-grand chandelier, sat a single heavy wooden chair.
Bound to it—
Chinen Suzuki.
Her wrists were chained behind the chair, ankles secured tightly to its legs. Around her wrists gleamed suppression cuffs engraved with complex anti-casting arrays—far stronger than the magic-dampening smoke deployed earlier. These were crafted specifically to restrain prodigies.
A cloth gag had been removed moments ago.
Her long azure hair spilled down her shoulders, catching silver in the fractured moonlight pouring through the collapsed ceiling.
Her back was straight.
Her breathing steady.
Her eyes—
Clear.
Cold.
And filled with contempt.
One of the masked men stepped forward.
"You are late."
Daisuke did not look at him.
His gaze never left Suzuki.
"As per agreement," the masked man continued evenly, "the target was extracted without lethal harm. No permanent injury inflicted."
Another added, voice muffled, "Palace detection wards were disabled efficiently. Your assistance was satisfactory."
Daisuke's lips thinned.
"Of course it was," he replied quietly. "I helped install them."
He remembered the flicker.
That single unstable sequence in the ward array he had "corrected."
A minor alteration.
A blind spot.
His fingers had trembled as he adjusted the runes.
But he had done it.
Because—
A week earlier.
—
Suzuki had stood across from him in a secluded garden corridor after magical training.
The afternoon sun had filtered through trees, lighting her hair like a halo.
"I apologize, Taiko-sama," she had said calmly. "I do not reciprocate your feelings."
No cruelty.
No softness.
Just truth.
He had smiled then.
Said he understood.
He did not.
As she walked away, another voice had emerged from the shade of a pillar.
"It seems you care deeply for Chinen Suzuki."
Daisuke had spun around.
A tall man stepped forward, robes dark but impeccably tailored. His presence was quiet, controlled.
"Kurotsuki Masanori," he introduced himself with a shallow bow. "Acting head of the Parley Faction."
Daisuke scoffed.
"The Parley Faction? You're barely relevant in court."
Masanori smiled faintly.
"Relevance is a matter of perspective. We prefer… influence unseen."
Daisuke crossed his arms.
"If you came to mock me, leave."
Masanori studied him thoughtfully.
"When the announcement comes," he said softly, "and she stands beside the Crown Prince… what will you do?"
Daisuke's stomach tightened.
"She won't."
Masanori's gaze sharpened slightly.
"And if she does?"
Silence.
"She will belong to the Crown Prince," Masanori continued gently.
Daisuke's fists clenched.
"I will win her properly."
"With what?" Masanori asked calmly. "Devotion? She already refused you."
Daisuke flinched.
In his mind replayed a memory:
That training incident.
His mana had spiraled out of control.
Backlash imminent.
Suzuki had stepped in.
Her magic—cool, precise—had wrapped around his chaotic flow, stabilizing it. She had corrected his stance, guided his breathing.
She had even given a faint smile when he managed to regain control.
He had fallen then.
In his mind, that moment had meant something.
Masanori's voice cut through the memory.
"A defiled consort is dethroned instantly."
Daisuke recoiled.
"I will never harm her!"
"Harm," Masanori said lightly, "is subjective. Political ruin, however, is absolute."
"I would never force her!"
"Then you will lose her," Masanori replied simply. "Because once she becomes a consort, she is untouchable."
Those words had festered.
And when Suzuki's name was announced—
Azure Consort.
The applause had felt like knives.
She stood beside the Crown Prince.
Unreachable.
Untouchable.
Masanori had been right.
—
Back in the ruined mansion, Daisuke swallowed.
The masked men stepped back slightly.
"As agreed," one said. "Custody is transferred."
Daisuke approached.
Suzuki's gaze never wavered.
He reached up slowly and removed the gag fully.
She inhaled, steady.
"…You."
Her voice was calm.
Disappointed.
He flinched more from that than he had from Masanori's manipulation.
"Suzuki," he began, "I had no choice."
"You always have a choice," she replied evenly.
"I did this for you!" he insisted. "You were about to be sold—used as a political tool!"
Her brows drew together slightly.
"I accepted the position of consort."
"No," he snapped. "You don't understand. They would control you."
"And you won't?" she asked quietly.
The question struck harder than accusation.
Daisuke hesitated.
"I love you."
Her expression remained unchanged.
"That is not love," she said calmly. "And I never returned your feelings."
The words landed cleanly.
Without cruelty.
Without apology.
Behind them, the masked figures remained silent observers.
Bound by contract.
Daisuke stepped closer.
"Once you're dethroned," he said urgently, "we can leave. I'll take responsibility. I'll protect you—"
"You would destroy my reputation to possess me?" she interrupted.
His silence answered.
Suzuki's eyes grew colder.
"You were weak in magic that day," she said softly. "I helped you because it was right."
He swallowed.
"It meant nothing beyond that."
His breathing grew uneven.
One masked man spoke from the shadows.
"Time is limited."
Daisuke turned sharply.
"You're done here."
"As agreed," the masked man replied. "We will ensure evidence circulates. Her dethronement will follow."
A pause.
"Do not regret tonight."
One by one, they retreated into darkness, disappearing through broken corridors until only moonlight and silence remained.
Daisuke stood alone with her.
The mansion creaked faintly as wind passed through shattered windows.
Suzuki adjusted slightly in the chair, chains clinking softly.
"Release me," she said.
Not pleading.
Commanding.
He stepped closer instead.
"I will make you understand."
For the first time—
Her eyes shifted.
Not fear exactly.
But awareness.
"Daisuke," she said quietly, "this is your final chance."
He hesitated.
The night felt heavy.
"Undo this."
His fingers trembled.
For a moment, doubt flickered.
Then pride.
Obsession.
Humiliation.
"I can't," he whispered.
His jaw set.
"I will not lose here."
Moonlight cast his shadow over her bound form.
And somewhere beyond the ruined estate, the faint sound of wind carried across empty land—
As if something, or someone, was drawing closer.
Daisuke stood so close now that Suzuki could feel the heat of his breath.
She strained against the chains, but the suppression cuffs bit into her wrists, draining every trace of mana she tried to gather. The chair scraped faintly against the cracked stone floor as she resisted.
"Why do you reject me, Suzuki?" Daisuke asked, his voice tight, almost trembling.
She turned her face away from him.
Because she finally understood.
This was no desperate confession.
He was going to force her.
"You…" His hand reached for her leg, fingers brushing against her ankle before slowly sliding upward. "I'll make you understand my love. No one but me can make you happy."
"Stop," she said, her voice firm despite the fear rising in her chest.
She already knew what came next.
The wind above shifted.
A faint shadow passed across the broken ceiling.
And then—
Someone descended soundlessly through the hole overhead.
A calm voice echoed in the ruined hall.
"This won't kill you… but it will hurt."
A hand rose, two fingers extended like the barrel of a gun.
"Limitless Space Technique — Second Spell: Oppose."
Rin.
His isolation magic cloaked his mana so completely that even the air felt empty around him. To the eye, he was plainly visible. But unless one was looking directly at him, his presence slipped from awareness like a forgotten thought.
A small orb condensed at his fingertips.
It was not large.
Not flashy.
But it vibrated with condensed force—pure opposing pressure.
Rin deliberately reduced the output.
He did not intend to kill.
He fired.
The orb struck Daisuke squarely in the chest just as he leaned over Suzuki.
The impact exploded outward in a concussive blast of force.
Daisuke was hurled backward, crashing through the rotted doors. Wood shattered under the impact as his body tore through the frame and slammed into the outer corridor.
Silence fell for half a heartbeat.
Rin landed lightly on the floor, scanning the surroundings with sharp, controlled movements.
No one else inside.
He turned to Suzuki.
Her dress was partially torn from the struggle, shoulders exposed, chains still binding her to the chair. Her eyes widened.
"Sir Rin…? Why are you—"
The crash of splintered wood had not gone unnoticed.
Two masked men burst back into the hall, taking in the broken doorway, the unconscious Daisuke, and the unfamiliar young man standing before the bound Azure Consort.
Without hesitation, they cast.
Mana surged.
Rin moved first.
He circled one hand smoothly, forming a second orb—this time humming with attractive force.
"Limitless Space Technique — First Spell: Attract."
The orb pulsed.
The floorboards around them ripped free from their foundations, drawn inward by violent gravitational pull. Splinters, nails, shattered planks—everything tore loose and spiraled.
With a flick of his wrist, Rin redirected the accumulated debris outward.
A storm of wood fragments shot toward the masked men like a localized tornado.
They dodged with trained precision, rolling aside as splinters embedded in stone walls.
Skilled.
Not amateurs.
But the distraction was enough.
Rin opened a small spatial aperture beside him—his Infinity Room—and withdrew a slender blade in one smooth motion.
He crossed the distance in a blink.
One clean slash.
The chains binding the chair split apart, metal snapping and falling away.
Suzuki was free—mostly. The suppression cuffs still clung to her wrists, preventing spellcasting.
"Lady Suzuki," Rin said calmly, offering his hand, "please follow me. We must leave."
She had a thousand questions.
Why he was here.How he had found her.What he truly was.
But none of them mattered yet.
"Thank you," she managed.
Rin removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders, shielding her torn dress.
Shouts echoed from the corridor.
"Intruder!""He's taken the Azure Consort!"
Rin exhaled quietly.
Then he grabbed Suzuki's hand and leapt upward toward the broken ceiling.
They landed atop the unstable roof just as three masked men converged, blades drawn.
Rin shifted Suzuki behind him.
Two fingers rose again.
"Oppose."
The projectile was nearly invisible—compressed beyond sight.
One man was struck mid-stride and blasted backward off the roof, vanishing into debris below.
The remaining two split instantly.
One began chanting a binding spell.The other charged directly at Rin with a sword.
A coordinated assault.
Rin hurled his own blade at the caster.
The masked magician aborted his incantation to dodge.
The swordsman grinned beneath his mask, believing Rin now disarmed.
He slashed.
Rin raised his bare hand.
Isolation magic reinforced his palm, compressing space around it.
The steel struck—
—and stopped.
Rin caught the blade.
Raw.
The masked man froze in disbelief.
Rin's other hand shifted below the attacker's guard.
Two fingers.
"Oppose."
The blast detonated point-blank.
The man was thrown violently across the rooftop, crashing into broken stone.
Behind them, the spellcaster began reforming his magic—
—and suddenly screamed.
A blade erupted through his thigh.
Rin's sword had returned.
When he had thrown it, he had infused it with mana—creating a tether.
"First Spell — Attract."
The sword answered his call, flying back along its invisible connection, impaling the unsuspecting caster from behind before returning to Rin's grasp.
The rooftop fell briefly silent except for groans.
Rin didn't wait.
He sheathed the blade, seized Suzuki's hand, and dropped through another opening in the roof, descending back into the mansion's main hall.
He absorbed the impact effortlessly, manipulating spatial resistance beneath his feet. Even from such height, his landing was as gentle as stepping off a stair.
Suzuki, held securely in his arms in a princess carry, could only stare.
The display of control… of overwhelming spatial mastery… it left her momentarily speechless.
They touched down.
"There!" came another shout.
More masked men flooded into the main chamber.
The chase was far from over.
And Rin tightened his grip slightly.
"Stay close," he said quietly.
Then he moved.
Rin pushed open the nearest door and ushered Suzuki inside.
"Through here."
The room had once been a study—collapsed shelves, mold-eaten books, a cracked writing desk overturned near the window. Dust swirled in the air from their abrupt entrance.
Behind them, boots thundered in the corridor.
"They're coming!" Suzuki warned, clutching his coat tighter around her shoulders.
"I know."
Three masked men burst in without hesitation.
Rin stepped forward before they could fan out, blade lifting into a clean fencing guard. His posture was precise—minimal movement, efficient angles. His left hand remained free at his side, fingers loose.
The first attacker lunged.
Steel rang against steel.
Rin parried with a slight twist of his wrist, redirecting the heavier blade just enough to let it slide past his shoulder. At the same instant, two fingers of his free hand snapped upward.
"Oppose."
A compact orb shot sideways without him even looking.
It struck the second masked man mid-cast, shattering the forming spell circle with a sharp crack of displaced mana. The caster flew backward into a bookshelf, wood exploding around him.
Suzuki's eyes widened.
"He didn't even look…"
The third attacker circled, searching for an opening.
The first masked man pressed harder, forcing Rin back with brute strength. The difference in physical build was obvious—the masked swordsman was broader, taller, his strikes heavy enough to rattle the floorboards.
And yet—
Each time steel met steel, something strange happened.
The force dispersed.
Isolation magic wrapped around Rin's body like an invisible sheath. It did not block the blow—it absorbed and redirected it, diffusing the impact across compressed space.
"How…?" the larger man growled, increasing pressure.
Rin's expression didn't change.
His free hand flicked again.
"Oppose."
The third masked man, who had been attempting to flank toward Suzuki, was blasted sideways before he could take two steps.
Suzuki staggered back toward the wall.
"Sir Rin—!"
"I'm fine," he said calmly, even as he pivoted, blade flashing.
The heavy swordsman roared and swung downward with both hands.
Rin met it head-on.
The crash should have shattered bone.
Instead, isolation magic reinforced his arm while a subtle current of opposing force enhanced his own physical strength. Oppose didn't only repel outward—Rin could channel its principle inward, increasing the counterforce behind his movements.
Their blades locked.
For a heartbeat, they stood frozen.
Then Rin twisted, stepped inside the man's guard, and slammed a point-blank Oppose into the man's abdomen.
The explosion of force hurled him across the room, smashing through the cracked desk and into the far wall.
Suzuki stared at Rin.
"You… you're unbelievable…"
He didn't answer. He was already scanning the doorway.
More shadows moved beyond it.
"Lady Suzuki," he said, voice firm but gentle, "find an exit. I'll hold them."
"But—"
"Go."
She swallowed and nodded, forcing herself to move. She darted past broken furniture and slipped into the adjacent corridor as two more masked men rushed in.
Rin stepped into the doorway, narrowing the angle so they couldn't pass him easily.
The corridor became a bottleneck.
One attacker charged.
Rin sidestepped, blade flickering in short, precise arcs—pure fencing technique. No wasted motion. Every parry flowed into the next.
A spell circle flared behind the attacker.
Rin didn't turn.
Two fingers extended backward.
"Oppose."
The spell detonated before completion, the caster thrown against the opposite wall with a sharp crack.
Suzuki, further down the hall, glanced back.
Every time someone tried to reach her—
They were blown away as if struck by invisible artillery.
"Sir Rin!" she called as she pushed open another door. "There are more down this way!"
"I'll thin them."
She heard the impact of bodies, the sharp bursts of compressed force, the ringing of steel.
Room to room she ran, heart pounding. The suppression cuffs weighed heavily on her wrists, reminding her of her helplessness.
A masked man suddenly burst from a side chamber and lunged toward her.
She stumbled back—
Before he could grab her, an Oppose orb slammed into his ribs and sent him skidding across the floor.
Rin stood at the far end of the corridor, still engaged with two others.
He hadn't even looked at her.
He simply knew.
Suzuki's breath caught.
"You're protecting me while fighting them all…?"
"Focus on escaping!" he called, ducking under a blade and driving his elbow into another attacker's throat.
She forced herself onward.
At last she reached a wider chamber—the former dining hall. Moonlight filtered through shattered windows, illuminating a set of heavy double doors at the far end.
The exit.
But five masked men stood between her and freedom.
They turned as she entered.
"So the consort runs alone," one sneered.
They advanced.
Suzuki backed up, pulse racing.
From behind her came a crash.
Rin burst through the doorway, kicking a pursuing attacker aside. A long banquet table stood between Suzuki and the masked men blocking the exit.
Rin's eyes assessed everything in a split second.
He raised two fingers—
—but not at them.
"Oppose."
The orb struck the underside of the table.
The entire massive slab of wood exploded forward like a battering ram.
It swept the masked men off their feet, carrying them backward in a storm of splinters before slamming them into the double doors.
The doors burst open under the impact.
Cold night air flooded in.
"Keep going, Lady Suzuki!" Rin ordered.
She didn't hesitate this time.
She ran.
Rin fell into step beside her as they crossed into the overgrown courtyard. Grass brushed against their legs, moonlight silvering the ruined fountain at its center.
Behind them—
Footsteps.
Many.
Rin glanced back and felt a flicker of disbelief.
Ten masked figures emerged into the courtyard, some limping, some clutching bruised ribs—but standing.
"…How many are there?" he muttered under his breath.
Suzuki heard him.
"You've already defeated so many…"
"I didn't defeat them," he replied quietly. "I held back."
He could have increased output.
Could have shattered ribs instead of bruising them. Could have driven blades deeper.
But he had promised himself—
Not unless absolutely necessary.
"I won't kill unless I must," he had sworn long ago.
Even in his previous life, he had not taken a life until he was older.
Sixteen felt too young to stain his hands again.
They sprinted toward the outer gate, beyond which a dense forest stretched toward the capital. If they could reach the tree line, Rin could cloak them both in isolation and vanish.
"There!" Suzuki pointed. "The forest—"
The iron gates shuddered.
Then moved.
Metal twisted unnaturally, groaning as if alive. The bars fused together, thickening, sharpening.
Spikes formed, interlocking into a dense wall.
A magic formation glowed faintly across its surface.
Rin skidded to a stop.
"…A reinforcement construct."
He fired an Oppose orb.
It struck the metal wall with a thunderous crack.
A small section shattered—
—and immediately began to knit itself back together.
Regeneration.
The gate lurched forward suddenly, spikes elongating like spears.
"Lady Suzuki!"
A spike shot toward her.
Rin fired again, shattering the incoming spear before it pierced her chest.
The entire gate structure began writhing, launching metallic lances in rapid succession.
Rin stepped in front of her.
Isolation magic condensed around his body at maximum density.
A spike pierced through his guard.
It drove into his shoulder.
"—!"
The impact forced him backward, but it did not go deep. The reinforced spatial barrier reduced the penetration significantly.
Still—
Pain exploded down his arm.
Blood began to drip.
"Sir Rin!" Suzuki gasped, grabbing him as he staggered.
He didn't let himself fall.
Instead, he seized her and rolled across the grass, narrowly avoiding another volley of spikes that tore into the ground where they had stood.
They rolled again, escaping the range of the animated gate as it snapped and struck like a caged beast.
Rin came up to one knee, blood staining his sleeve.
Suzuki pressed her hands against his shoulder instinctively.
"You're hurt—"
"It's shallow," he said through clenched teeth. "I can still move."
Boots surrounded them.
The masked men closed in, forming a circle.
Ten.
Perhaps more.
Rin rose slowly, placing himself slightly ahead of Suzuki.
His injured arm trembled faintly but he steadied it.
The masked men parted.
A path opened through their ranks.
From it stepped a taller figure, aura controlled yet unmistakably heavier than the rest.
The leader.
Suzuki's fingers tightened in Rin's coat.
"Sir Rin…" she whispered.
He didn't look back at her.
His gaze remained fixed on the approaching masked man.
Blood dripped steadily onto the grass.
Yet Rin's posture remained straight.
Unyielding.
The night wind stirred around them.
And for the first time since entering the mansion—
They were truly cornered.
Blood dripped steadily from Rin's shoulder, darkening the grass beneath his boots.
Yet he stepped forward.
Shielding her.
Suzuki could see the strain in the way he held his injured arm slightly tighter to his side, but his posture did not waver. He positioned himself fully between her and the encroaching circle of masked men.
Can't have her be dethroned.
The thought was sharp and clear in his mind.
Daisuke's plan had been obvious the moment Rin pieced it together. Defile the Azure Consort. Destroy her purity. Force political disgrace. Strip her title.
And in the logic of the novel—
That would unravel everything.
Harumi had been clear.
The story must follow its core structure.
Suzuki was meant to remain one of the consorts—the so-called "villainesses" whose rivalry defined the narrative's tension. Remove her now, and the entire plotline would fracture unpredictably.
Rin didn't care for the politics.
But he cared about stability.
And he cared about the fact that she had been terrified.
He lifted his eyes toward the man at the center of the formation.
The leader.
The others parted subtly around him. The metal gate behind them—now twisted into a forest of interlocking spikes—hummed faintly with residual mana.
That was his doing, Rin concluded.
Metal manipulation.
Control precise enough to reshape structures and repair them instantly.
A power that demanded authority.
Rin raised two fingers despite the blood running down his arm.
"Oppose."
The orb shot forward, compressed and silent.
The leader did not move.
Instead, every sword carried by the masked men around him ripped free from their sheaths, metal bending unnaturally as it converged in front of him. The blades fused into a dense, layered shield just as the orb struck.
The impact rang out like a cannon blast.
The metal barrier dented inward—
—but held.
And before Rin's eyes, the warped steel smoothed itself back into pristine shape.
He clicked his tongue softly.
Metal element confirmed.
Regenerative reinforcement too.
The leader lowered the shield slowly, the fused swords separating and returning to their owners' hands as though nothing had happened.
"To think," the masked man said evenly, voice filtered through cloth, "a Sumeragi would be the intruder saving the Azure Consort."
His gaze sharpened.
"What is your relationship with her? Why go so far?"
"Just acquaintances," Rin replied calmly. "And you kidnapped a consort of the Crown Prince. That's reason enough."
A low scoff came from behind the mask.
"You have a poor sense of humor, Sumeragi Rin."
Rin sighed lightly despite the pain pulsing through his shoulder.
"How about this," he offered, almost lazily. "You all run along, leave us alone, and let us go. I can promise to forget this happened."
The masked men shifted slightly at the audacity.
The leader tilted his head.
"The dethronement of a consort is not the Sumeragi family's concern. Yet you interfere."
"I wouldn't care either way," Rin answered quietly, gripping his wounded shoulder. "But certain things shouldn't change."
A dragging sound echoed from the mansion entrance.
Bootsteps.
Unsteady.
Daisuke staggered into the courtyard, bruised, bloodied, rage twisting his face.
"You—!" His eyes locked onto Rin standing in front of Suzuki. "Sumeragi Rin! I told you to stay away from her!"
Rin's expression cooled further.
"You're the one who put her here," he said flatly. "And you tried to rape her. Don't dress obsession as love."
Daisuke's face flushed with fury.
"You followed me! You want to steal her—!"
"Lady Suzuki isn't an object," Rin interrupted. "She's the Azure Consort. You have no right."
"I'll kill you—"
"How," the masked leader cut in calmly, "did you find this location?"
Rin smiled faintly.
"Luck. And deduction. I marked most of the young nobles at the ball. This one"—he gestured toward Daisuke—"left immediately after the attack. Most nobles would panic and stay under protection. He walked out confidently. Like nothing could touch him."
Daisuke snarled, lunging forward.
"You—!"
He never finished.
A metallic whistle sliced through the air.
Suzuki didn't understand what happened at first.
One moment Daisuke stood there, trembling with rage.
The next—
His head separated cleanly from his body.
It fell to the grass with a sickening thud.
His body collapsed a heartbeat later.
A thin metal plate, sharpened to razor precision, returned silently to the leader's outstretched hand.
Suzuki froze.
Her breath caught in her throat.
She had seen injuries.
She had seen blood.
But never—
Death.
Not like this.
Her stomach churned violently. She staggered back a step, hand covering her mouth.
Rin's eyes widened for only a fraction of a second before narrowing again.
"Why kill him?" he asked, voice steady despite the situation.
"He was cooperating," Rin continued. "Or so it seemed."
The leader lowered his hand.
"The binding contract was fulfilled," he said simply. "We could have allowed him to live. But someone disrupted the plan."
His gaze shifted toward Rin.
"So the objective changed. If the consort could not be defiled… she would be eliminated."
Suzuki's fingers trembled.
Rin's jaw tightened.
"And he had to die," the leader finished. "Loose ends are inefficient."
"You're blaming me for his death?" Rin asked quietly.
"That won't move me."
He glanced briefly at Daisuke's corpse.
"I think he deserved death. Though a quick one was kinder than he earned."
Suzuki flinched at the coldness in his tone, even as she trembled at the sight of the severed head lying in the grass.
Life.
Gone in an instant.
The masked men tightened the circle.
"Give up the Azure Consort," the leader said. "We will spare you, Sumeragi Rin."
Suzuki's heart pounded painfully.
He had risked everything to save her.
Bled for her.
And now—
If she stepped forward, perhaps—
"Sir Rin…" her voice shook. "You don't have to—"
"I came here to save the Azure Consort," Rin stated firmly. "That won't change."
Suzuki's breath hitched.
The leader exhaled slowly.
"Sumeragi Rin… just like your father. Arrogant."
He raised a hand.
"Kill him."
Mana flared.
All around them, masked men began chanting.
Spell circles formed in layered arrays—fire, wind, earth, reinforced metal shards. A coordinated barrage.
Behind Rin, the metal gate writhed like a living beast.
In front of him—
Overwhelming firepower.
Suzuki's mind raced.
Even if the suppression cuffs were removed—
Even if she could cast—
There were too many.
Too many enemies.
Too much mana.
They were young. Inexperienced compared to organized operatives.
The air grew hotter as spells reached completion.
Rin inhaled sharply.
Then—
"Limitless… Open."
His mana exploded outward.
Not outward in attack—
But upward.
Expanding.
Violent.
Raw.
Pain ripped through him instantly.
"—Ghh—!"
He clenched his teeth as veins stood out along his neck.
Opening the Limitless state meant forcing his body to access power beyond its natural capacity. The human vessel was finite.
Limitless was not.
The backlash came as internal rupture—mana channels tearing under pressure.
Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
"Third Spell… Isolation… Maximum Technique."
Suzuki's eyes widened.
Maximum Technique.
A full-capacity casting. Even master magicians could only use such techniques a handful of times a day before exhausting themselves entirely.
But Limitless Space users—
They did not run out of mana.
They broke themselves instead.
Rin's current body should not have been capable of this.
But with Limitless open—
He forced it.
Space around them folded.
A translucent dome snapped into existence, isolating Rin and Suzuki completely.
The first barrage struck.
Fire detonated across the barrier.
Wind blades shredded against it.
Metal spikes shattered on contact.
The dome did not tremble.
The second barrage came.
Then the third.
The courtyard erupted in explosions.
Suzuki crouched beside Rin as he remained standing only through sheer will.
Blood dripped from his lips now.
His breathing grew ragged.
The fourth barrage hit.
The barrier held.
But Rin's knees buckled.
The Limitless state tore at him from the inside. His mana channels screamed.
The attackers prepared a fifth wave.
Rin's vision blurred.
The barrier flickered—
—and shattered.
He collapsed forward.
Suzuki caught him, cradling his unconscious body against her.
"Sir Rin—!"
The masked men raised their hands again.
Spell circles flared brighter than before.
Suzuki could only stare.
There was nothing left.
No escape.
No strength.
The fifth barrage reached completion.
And then—
It didn't fire.
The air changed.
Pressure descended from above.
Every spell circle froze mid-formation.
Mana itself seemed to hesitate.
A figure stepped down from the sky as though descending invisible stairs.
He landed lightly in front of Suzuki and the unconscious Rin.
Tall.
Composed.
Presence vast yet restrained.
The masked leader stiffened.
And uttered one name.
"Sumeragi Arata."