The forest was silent.
Shadows stretched long across the broken undergrowth, warped by the fading sunlight. Every rustle of leaves, every creak of a branch, carried with it an almost imperceptible weight—an anticipation that seemed to cling to the air itself.
Raphael Arzenon moved through the forest with deliberate steps, his expression calm, yet his golden eyes shimmered with a cold intensity. He was alone, yet not entirely so. A presence lingered in his mind.
Cielux…
"Raphael," the voice chimed softly, almost hesitant, yet laced with her usual sharp analytical tone. "You're walking straight into the heart of the forest alone. Do you truly have a plan? The scale of this confrontation—Rairen—exceeds anything we've faced before."
Raphael paused, leaning lightly against a gnarled tree. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"My plan, Cielux?" he murmured, voice low but steady. "It is… simple in concept. I intend to create a Temple. A Territory through True Mimicry."
"True Mimicry?" Her voice betrayed a hint of alarm, though it was subtle. "You mean… you intend to replicate the principles of Magic itself in a single construct?"
He nodded. "Exactly. But there are steps. Several. I cannot achieve it instantaneously. There are… necessary procedures to bring it into reality."
Cielux was silent for a beat, processing, then began to speak in her customary precise cadence, but with a tint of concern.
"Territory Creation," she said, almost instructively, "is a skill designed to allow a magus to establish dominion over a localized area, shaping it to one's advantage. It is a Class Skill intrinsic to Caster-class Servants, though the principle can be applied to sufficiently powerful humans who understand the laws of magic at a meta-level.
"At Rank B, one may create a Workshop. A Workshop is designed for efficiency, research, and experimentation. Within it, mana is optimized, spellcasting is more stable, and magical operations occur with minimal waste. Most magi can at best sustain this for hours before fatigue sets in.
"At Rank A… one can create a Temple. A Temple is not merely a workshop, but a dominion—a microcosm of magical law itself. It can rewrite the rules within its boundaries, amplify magical output exponentially, and sustain spells of a magnitude ordinary magi cannot comprehend. Within a Temple, one is effectively the governor of magic itself."
She paused, her tone softer now, almost contemplative. "Raphael… do you even have the faintest idea how to make your Territory Creation reach EX-rank? That is beyond any normal human—or even Servant-level—capability. Rank EX requires not only mastery of construction, but the integration of magical law, environmental energy, and the principles of existence itself. It… cannot be improvised."
Raphael's lips curved into a smirk. Not answering her directly, he let the silence stretch for a heartbeat.
"You'll see," he murmured, tone teasing yet edged with certainty. "The surprise will reveal itself soon enough."
Cielux's voice sharpened slightly, the faint undertone of exasperation breaking through. "Raphael—"
But he interrupted her with a soft question, his golden gaze focused inwardly, almost as if testing his own memory.
"Cielux… did you copy Bounded Field spells? And Memory Reading spells?"
A brief nod—subtle, almost imperceptible.
"Perfect." His smirk widened. "Then we are ready."
The forest around him seemed to hold its breath. While Yukio clashed against Rairen in a display of pure martial and magical prowess, Raphael moved methodically. His hands traced intricate patterns through the air, fingers painting symbols only he could perceive, weaving the theoretical into the physical.
In secret, he began establishing a 200-meter radius Bounded Field across the island. Invisible to the naked eye, undetectable by normal magic sensing, the field began absorbing and redirecting the latent energy of the island itself—every leylines' pulse, every ambient fluctuation, feeding into the lattice of his design.
Cielux's voice resonated in his mind again, calm but analytical.
"The Bounded Field you are forming," she said, "is a foundation. By stabilizing the local mana flux within a closed space, you create the first layer necessary for Territory Creation. Essentially, you are constructing a virtual container—isolated from external interference—upon which the Temple will be built."
Raphael nodded, keeping his movements deliberate, almost meditative.
"Yes… and once the field stabilizes, I can proceed with the next layer: True Mimicry. Not replication of a spell… but replication of the principles themselves. The flow of magical law, the logic that underlies all magecraft."
Cielux's tone deepened, almost incredulous.
"That is… beyond audacity, Raphael. To attempt such a feat while simultaneously relying on external energy sources—combined mana of three high-level magi, the Earth itself—requires not only precision, but near-perfect risk management. If the field collapses prematurely… you could be erased along with everything within it."
He did not flinch.
"Then let it collapse," he said softly. "I will survive. I always do. And if not… the world will have been tested against the impossible."
Cielux did not reply immediately. Instead, her analytical mind ran simulations within his constructed field, verifying the stability of his lattice, the input-output balance of island energy, and the integration of his copied spells.
A long moment passed.
Finally, she spoke, voice tinged with reluctant admiration.
"Raphael… even if this works, the strain on your body alone—without factoring mana output or environmental destabilization—is astronomical. You are making a gamble against your own existence."
He paused, gaze sweeping the shadowed forest around him. The wind rustled through the trees.
"And yet," he murmured, voice calm, "a gamble is the only way to win when facing what is coming."
While the battle between Yukio and Rairen raged in the open, unseen, unheralded, Raphael's invisible Temple began to take shape.
A lattice of energy stretched silently across the island, weaving itself into every rock, tree, and blade of grass, linking natural and arcane energy alike into a single network. Each pulse of mana, each whisper of magical law, was absorbed and cataloged in Cielux's processing grid.
It was not yet a Temple. Not yet. But it was the seed of one—an unseen fortress, an altar of magic and principle, forged in shadows, in silence, and in the audacious certainty of a single mind.
And at its center, Raphael Arzenon stood, smiling faintly, golden eyes bright with the promise of the impossible.
The forest remained still.
Yet beneath that stillness—
Something was changing.
Invisible currents flowed beneath the earth, subtle distortions in the atmosphere bending ever so slightly toward a single point.
Raphael Arzenon stood at the center of it all.
Eyes half-closed.
Mind moving faster than the world itself.
"…Cielux."
His voice was quiet, but deliberate.
"There's something I need you to analyze."
A brief pause.
Then—
"…Rin mentioned something earlier. A fragment."
His golden eyes sharpened faintly.
"The Jeweled Sword… Zelretch."
The moment the name was spoken—
The air itself seemed to carry weight.
Within his mind, Cielux appeared instantly.
Her expression shifted.
Not playful.
Not irritated.
But… serious.
"…The Jeweled Sword Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg," she said slowly.
Her tone carried a rare sense of gravity.
"That is not merely a Mystic Code, Master."
She stepped forward within the inner world, luminous data fragments forming around her like constellations.
"It is considered one of the greatest treasures of humanity. A crystallization of Mystery that borders on the domain of Magic itself."
Raphael listened silently.
Cielux raised her hand—
And the world around them transformed.
A projection.
A staff-like weapon appeared in midair.
Elegant.
Ancient.
Unfathomable.
"This," she said, "is the Jeweled Sword."
"Though referred to as a sword, its true form is closer to a staff—a conduit rather than a blade."
Her eyes gleamed faintly.
"It was created by Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg—the wielder of the Second Magic."
Raphael's gaze narrowed slightly.
"Second Magic…"
Cielux nodded.
"Yes. The Kaleidoscope. The operation of parallel worlds."
She extended her fingers.
The projection shifted—
Splitting.
Then splitting again.
Endless reflections.
Worlds layered upon worlds.
Infinite possibilities overlapping like fractured glass.
"The Jeweled Sword utilizes a phenomenon known as Multi-Dimensional Refraction," she explained.
"It opens microscopic apertures into parallel worlds—identical coordinates across infinite realities."
Her voice deepened.
"And through those openings… it draws mana."
Raphael's eyes sharpened.
"…From other worlds?"
"Correct."
Cielux smiled faintly.
"Not just one. Not two."
"Endless worlds."
The projection pulsed.
Mana surged—limitless, overwhelming, impossible.
"When one world's energy is exhausted," she continued, "the sword simply opens another aperture. Then another. Then another."
Her gaze locked onto his.
"As long as parallel worlds exist… the supply is effectively infinite."
Silence.
Heavy.
"…So it's not just a weapon," Raphael murmured.
"It's a system."
Cielux's lips curved slightly.
"Exactly, Master."
"It is a conceptual engine of infinite energy."
The projection shifted again—
A beam of light erupted from the staff.
Blinding.
Overwhelming.
World-shattering.
"With it," Cielux continued, "Zelretch was able to repel a reflection of the Moon itself—an attack that threatened the planet."
Raphael exhaled slowly.
"…So this is the level of 'treasure' Rin casually brought up."
"Indeed."
A pause.
Then Raphael spoke again.
"…Has it ever been copied?"
Cielux did not hesitate.
"Yes."
Her eyes flickered—
And the projection changed.
A boy appeared.
Red hair.
Determined eyes.
A sword forming in his hands.
"Shirou Emiya," Cielux said.
"The most notable case."
Raphael's gaze sharpened.
"He succeeded?"
Cielux tilted her head slightly.
"…Yes."
Then—
"…and no."
The projection stabilized—
A replica of the Jeweled Sword appeared in Shirou's grasp.
It shimmered.
Powerful.
Yet—
Incomplete.
"Through Projection Magecraft," Cielux explained, "he was able to reconstruct a version of the Jeweled Sword."
"However…"
Her voice lowered.
"…he could not fully comprehend its structure."
Raphael's eyes narrowed.
"Meaning?"
Cielux stepped closer.
"Projection Magecraft relies on understanding."
"Structure. Composition. History. Purpose."
Her gaze sharpened.
"The Jeweled Sword exceeds modern magical theory."
"It is closer to alien technology than magecraft."
The projection flickered.
Cracks formed within Shirou's replica.
"Even with vast inherited knowledge," she continued, "he could only reproduce an inferior version."
"One that mimicked the function…"
"…but not the full depth of the original."
Raphael crossed his arms slightly.
"…Yet it still worked."
"Yes."
Cielux nodded.
"It still allowed him to access parallel-world mana to a degree."
Her expression turned thoughtful.
"Which in itself is… extraordinary."
Silence settled between them.
Then—
Raphael spoke again.
"…Cielux."
His voice was calm.
But sharper now.
More focused.
"We have True Mimicry."
A pause.
"The highest form of Projection Magecraft available to us."
His golden eyes gleamed.
"Can we do it?"
Cielux didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
The entire inner world shifted.
Simulations began.
Thousands.
Millions.
Calculations layered upon calculations.
Finally—
She spoke.
"…The answer is complex."
Raphael waited.
"Perfect reconstruction of the original Jeweled Sword…" she began slowly,
"…is currently impossible."
A beat.
"But—"
Her eyes lit up.
"Reconstruction of a functional equivalent?"
She smiled.
"Yes."
Raphael's smirk returned.
"…Explain."
Cielux stepped forward.
"Unlike Shirou Emiya," she said, "you possess several advantages."
She raised a finger.
"First—True Mimicry."
"This allows not only replication of structure…"
"…but adaptive reconstruction through analysis."
Another finger.
"Second—me."
Her smile turned slightly smug.
"I can analyze unknown structures beyond conventional comprehension limits."
A third finger.
"Third—your Territory Creation."
Her eyes gleamed.
"If you construct a Temple-level domain…"
"…you can compensate for missing information by stabilizing the function externally."
Raphael's eyes widened slightly.
"…So even if it's incomplete…"
"It will still work," she finished.
"And potentially—"
A pause.
"Better than Shirou Emiya's version."
Silence.
Then—
A quiet laugh escaped Raphael.
"…That's enough."
Cielux folded her arms.
"…However," she added, "there are limitations."
"Mana consumption will be extreme."
"Structural instability is likely."
"And…"
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"You will be directly interfacing with parallel-world energy."
Raphael didn't flinch.
"…Good."
Cielux blinked.
"…Good?"
His smirk widened.
"That just makes it more useful."
She stared at him for a moment.
Then sighed softly.
"…Honestly, Master…"
A pause.
"…what exactly are you planning?"
Her voice softened.
Not irritated.
Not mocking.
But genuinely curious.
"…Why is this important?"
Raphael turned his gaze outward—
Toward the battlefield.
Toward Rairen.
Toward the collapsing future of Britain.
And smiled.
"…Oh."
His voice was quiet.
Calm.
Certain.
"It's just a small piece…"
His eyes gleamed with something far deeper than confidence.
"…of my master plan."
A pause.
"You'll see soon enough."
And somewhere—
Beneath the forest.
Across the island.
Within the unseen lattice of his forming Territory—
Something began to align.
Not just mana.
Not just structure.
But possibility itself.
The forest had long since lost its natural stillness.
Something unnatural had claimed it.
A boundary—vast, intricate, and suffocatingly precise—wrapped itself around the land like an invisible dome. The air shimmered faintly, layered with overlapping magical circuits that pulsed like veins beneath the surface of reality. Every tree, every stone, every fragment of earth within a 200-meter radius had been forcefully integrated into a developing workshop.
At the very center—
stood a single figure.
Exhausted. Silent. Unyielding.
Leaves crunched beneath approaching footsteps.
Three figures emerged from the edge of the forest, their presence momentarily resisted by the outer layer of the barrier before allowing passage.
The first to step forward was Luviagelita Edelfelt.
She stopped.
Completely.
Her usual elegance faltered for a fraction of a second—just enough to reveal something rare.
Shock.
Her blue eyes widened as she slowly turned, taking in the scale of what lay before her. The boundary stretched beyond immediate perception, its structure layered with such density that even a glance carried weight.
"…This entire forest…" she murmured under her breath.
Her gaze sharpened as it landed on the lone boy at the center.
"You… you did all of this alone?"
Her voice carried disbelief—but she masked it quickly, lifting her chin slightly, as if refusing to fully concede admiration.
Beside her, Rin Tohsaka wasn't even trying to hide it.
Her eyes were wide, scanning the countless magical threads woven into the environment. Even unfinished, the workshop radiated a level of complexity that most magi would never reach in their lifetime.
"…Damn," she muttered.
Her voice was quiet, but heavy.
"This isn't just big… this is insane."
She took a few steps forward, her gaze locking onto Raphael's silhouette, illuminated by flickering arcs of mana.
"You've been busy," she added, a faint edge of tension slipping through her usual composure.
The third among them, Reines El-Melloi Archisorte, observed in silence.
Her expression didn't shift much—but her eyes did.
Sharp. Calculating.
She took in the boundary layer by layer, analyzing its construction, its purpose, its flaws—
—and its brilliance.
"…Impressive," she said at last.
There was no exaggeration in her tone.
Only truth.
At the center of it all stood Raphael Arzenon.
His breathing was slightly uneven.
His clothes carried faint traces of dirt and ash. His hands—subtly trembling—still glowed with residual magical output.
He didn't look like someone who had simply worked.
He looked like someone who had forced reality to cooperate.
"Yeah…" Raphael exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
"I ran across the entire island setting this up."
There was no pride in his voice.
Only exhaustion.
"It wasn't easy."
He lifted his head slightly, eyes steady despite the fatigue.
"But it's almost done."
A pause.
"Two more steps."
Silence lingered for a moment before he continued.
"But for that… I'll need your help."
His gaze shifted.
"To you first, Luvia."
Luviagelita's expression tightened slightly, though she didn't step back.
"My research… is it?" she said, her tone sharpening.
Raphael nodded.
Luvia inhaled slowly.
There was hesitation.
Not fear—
—but pride.
"I am Luviagelita Edelfelt," she declared, her voice rising with noble intensity.
"My knowledge is not something one simply asks for."
A brief pause.
Then—
"…But if it is necessary—"
She extended her hand slightly, her gaze unwavering.
"Then take it."
Her eyes locked onto his.
"And make it count."
Raphael gave a small nod before turning to Rin.
"And you."
Rin immediately frowned.
"Hold on," she said, crossing her arms tightly.
"'Go through my memories'?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"You're saying that way too casually."
There was a sharp edge to her voice now.
"What exactly do you need from me?"
Raphael said nothing.
Rin clicked her tongue.
"…This is seriously invasive, you know that?"
She looked away for a second.
Then back at him.
"…But if it's necessary…"
A sigh escaped her lips.
"Fine."
Her arms dropped to her sides.
"But you owe me a very detailed explanation after this."
Meanwhile, Luvia suddenly stepped forward again, her composure cracking just slightly.
"And Raphael?"
Her voice sharpened.
"If you die during this—"
She pointed at him directly.
"I will resurrect you."
A pause.
"…Just so I can scold you properly."
For a brief moment—
there was silence.
Then—
Rin snorted.
Reines exhaled faintly.
And even Raphael… almost smiled.
Finally, Reines spoke.
"I'll remain outside the active zone," she said, crossing her arms.
Her tone returned to its composed neutrality.
"I'll monitor the perimeter and track any external interference."
Her eyes flickered slightly.
"…Including your friend."
She didn't say the name.
She didn't need to.
Rairen.
Raphael closed his eyes briefly.
Steadying himself.
Then—
he raised his hand.
The air shifted.
The boundary pulsed.
And the final phase—
began.
The forest was alive with an unnatural tension.
Even within the shimmering barrier, the air seemed heavier, charged with faintly audible hums of latent magic. Raphael Arzenon's presence at the center of the workshop lent a weight to the atmosphere, a gravity that pulled the eyes of anyone nearby toward him.
He turned slowly to face the three observing magi, his expression serious, unyielding.
"Okay," he began, voice calm but sharp. "Luvia—you're a researcher, right? The best in the Clock Tower. Do you have access to the Solomon Temple information in your database?"
Luviagelita Edelfelt's brow furrowed, surprise flashing in her eyes at the specificity of the request. She blinked once, then quickly recomposed herself, reclaiming her signature poise.
"I do," she said, her tone crisp, authoritative. "I have access to all the resources the Clock Tower possesses."
Her golden coils swirled around her shoulders as if stirred by the air itself, each movement carrying the haughty pride that defined her.
"Knowledge, data, research… I alone hold more information in my mind than entire libraries across the world," she continued, voice rising slightly with conviction, almost daring him to doubt her.
Raphael's sigh was quiet, almost imperceptible. "Then… can you give me the Solomon Temple file?"
A sharp click echoed as Luvia's eyes narrowed, a cool, calculating smile tugging at her lips. "Of course, I have access to the file. Its contents are highly confidential, naturally. But… for the sake of Britain's safety," she paused, a single nod punctuating her words, "I will make an exception."
She extended her hand, golden locks shimmering in the faint magical light, her gaze narrowing in warning as she leaned slightly forward.
"But be warned—if you try anything untoward…" Her words were sharp, deliberate. "…I will know."
Raphael didn't respond with words. Instead, he retreated briefly into his mind, summoning Cielux.
Absolute Appraisal.
In an instant, the contents of the Solomon Temple file were scanned with surgical precision. Every sigil, every construct, every mystical property extracted in full detail. Using the ambient magical energy of the island, Raphael reconstructed the entire temple. The bound field stabilized the creation, integrating it seamlessly with the ground itself.
He collapsed onto one knee, breathing heavily.
"There," he said, voice heavy with satisfaction. "The physical aspect of the workshop… is complete."
Before them now stood the Solomon Temple—but not as history knew it. Its gleaming golden walls towered higher, broader than the original, every detail amplified in scale. The 200-meter radius boundary now encompassed a shrine to human ingenuity, magic, and Raphael's unparalleled skill.
Luvia's eyes widened, her hand trembling slightly as she stepped closer to trace the temple's flawless surface. Her usual arrogance faltered, replaced by awe tinged with disbelief.
"You… made a workshop of this caliber… alone?" Her voice trembled, almost imperceptibly. "It's… unfathomable."
Her gaze, sharp and unwavering, finally returned to Raphael. "To create such a workshop alone… in a single night? The skill, the energy, the mana required… just who are you, Arzenon?"
But Raphael did not answer.
Instead, he turned his focus to the next step.
Reines observed the exchange quietly, her arms folded, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Despite her usual composure, the sheer audacity of Raphael's feat left her momentarily unsettled. She glanced at Luvia, who met her gaze with a rare mixture of awe and tension.
"Next step," Reines prompted, her tone low but firm, eyes still tracking every subtle movement of Raphael.
Raphael's expression hardened. "Now… the last step. Rin."
Rin Tohsaka exhaled through her nose, already bracing herself. She had known this day would come, had known that her mind would be invaded in the name of progress. Her fists clenched briefly.
"You're really serious about accessing my memories, huh?" Her voice carried equal parts wariness and determination. "Fine. Let's get this over with."
Raphael's hand rested on her forehead. There was a moment of tense stillness—then he began scanning only the memories he needed: two critical moments during the Holy Grail War.
The first: when Rin had encountered the Zelretch Mystic Code file.
The second: when she had laid eyes upon the Holy Grail cup itself.
Each memory was scrutinized, analyzed, and recorded. Then, with a deliberate motion, the link to her mind was severed.
Rin staggered back slightly, blinking rapidly, the sensation leaving her disoriented. "Alright… alright. You got what you needed, right?" Her voice wavered between caution and curiosity.
Raphael smiled faintly. "Yes. The last data… is complete."
Rin let out a sigh, equal parts relief and irritation. "Great. Can we move on now, or do you have more memory heists planned?"
Within the recesses of his mind, Raphael Arzenon closed his eyes, centering himself amid the whirlwind of energy and data flowing through the Codex Akasha. His voice cut through the digital-arcane hum.
"Cielux… are you there?"
"Yes, Master. Do you require something?" Her tone was calm, but her awareness sharpened instantly, sensing the unusual tension in his mental presence.
Raphael's lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk. "Yes. You remember how you told me you could modify data temporarily… while I supervise?"
A slight pause. "Yes… but what are you asking, Master?" Cielux's voice betrayed curiosity laced with caution.
"I want more than temporary modification." His golden eyes gleamed within his mind. "I want editing. A true fusion."
Cielux tilted her head slightly, processing the statement. "Editing… fusion? Master, what do you mean by that?"
"Simple," Raphael said, his tone measured, almost teasing. "Take both datasets—the Zelretch Mystic Code information, and the data extracted from Rin's memories regarding the Holy Grail. Extract the essential components. Like a computer processing files, separating the useful code from the noise. Then… merge them. Create a new construct."
For the first time, a subtle tremor ran through Cielux's simulated form. Shock, sharp and precise, passed across her expression. Even she—who had analyzed infinite magical structures—had never conceived of combining two such potent, fundamentally different sources into a single, functional entity.
"…I… never thought of such a method," she admitted, almost in awe. Yet despite the unprecedented nature of the command, obedience was absolute.
Raphael's smirk widened. "Do it."
Within the Codex Akasha, streams of data bent to her will. Threads of parallel-world mana, mystical code, and memory fragments twisted and reformed, flowing like liquid light across an infinite virtual grid. Cielux began the extraction process, isolating the structural essence of the Jeweled Sword—its Multi-Dimensional Refraction, the logic of infinite energy intake—and the Holy Grail's core function as a vessel of endless mana.
Then came the fusion.
The two streams converged, arcs of raw, conceptual energy intertwining. It was not a simple layering—it was recursive, self-referencing, and adaptive. Gaps in understanding, unavoidable with even the most complete data, were compensated for by Raphael's True Mimicry and the stabilizing lattice of his developing Territory. Cielux worked tirelessly, recalibrating, testing, and refining in real-time, as if coding with the universe itself as the programming language.
In the physical world, visible only to Raphael, an artificial Holy Grail materialized. Its surface shimmered like polished jewel, yet the substance itself was far beyond ordinary, capable of absorbing infinite magical energy from parallel worlds. A vessel of unending mana, it hummed softly, supplying the workshop with boundless power.
Raphael exhaled slowly, satisfaction clear in his gaze. "There. Now I don't need to destroy myself. This cup alone can supply the workshop indefinitely."
Cielux's voice, still tinged with disbelief, echoed within his mind. "…Master… you've done what no one—no human or Servant—could even theorize."
He smiled faintly, eyes glittering with a mixture of pride and certainty. "Not just theorize, Cielux. Create. That is the difference."
Meanwhile the others in the real world who clearly couldn't hear Raphael Arzenon and Cielux conversation simply the Construction of the Artificial Holy Grail as Raphael Arzenon own feat.
Rin's eyes went wide, disbelief written across her features. "…You fused Zelretch's parallel energy absorption with the Holy Grail's structure? That's… insane. Brilliant, and—why does it look like a sparkly wine goblet?"
She crossed her arms, trying—and failing—to hide her admiration.
Reines approached, examining the cup with calm precision. "Infinite mana source," she murmured. "Using Zelretch's parallel absorption principle fused with Holy Grail technology… He's not just a madman. He's a dangerous madman."
Her lips curved in a rare, sly smile. "And here I thought Luvia was the only one who liked showing off."
Luvia, however, was not amused. Her frown deepened, golden coils twisting slightly as she stared at Raphael. "Infinite energy… that's truly a feat few can boast. But what exactly is your plan?"
Raphael's grin was sharp, logical. "Simple. I will confront Rairen alone. You three remain here. Ensure the workshop is neither destroyed nor tampered with. I will lure him here… and the trap will do the rest."
Luvia's eyebrow twitched. "Alone?" Her arms crossed, irritation palpable. "You think fighting that monster by yourself is a smart plan?"
"Yes," Raphael replied calmly, his tone devoid of arrogance, only certainty. "I am the only one capable of surviving even a few seconds against Rairen without being killed."
Her irritation only deepened, golden coils bristling with indignation. "So we're just supposed to… stand by? Watch while you risk your life?"
Raphael laughed softly. "Cheerleaders? You would make terrible ones. No… you're guardians of this workshop. And Luvia," he added with a mischievous glint, "you love gold, right? Enjoy the view of your temple while imagining how you could sell it later."
That remark made her see red. She bristled, face flushing. "You—how dare you use my love of gold against me! Just because I appreciate rare assets doesn't mean I'll stand aside while you fight alone!"
Rin snickered, unable to hide herself. "I can picture it perfectly. Luvia, cheering on the sidelines in her finest jewels, waving a golden pom-pom. Professional mage cheerleader, maybe."
"Seriously," Rin added, raising an eyebrow at Raphael. "Fighting Rairen alone? Are you crazy? Do you have a death wish?"
Raphael Arzenon expression turned serious, almost cold as he addressed their concern.
"I am sure of it," he said, his voice flat but resolute. "After all… if any of you went, you'd be killed instantly. Look at what happened to that dumb-ass Barthomeloi Lorelei—she died like a bitch."
The words hit like ice.
Luvia's breath caught in her throat. Her fingers twitched, gold coils trembling with barely restrained fury. To hear a fellow high-ranking magus dismissed so casually, so cruelly… it was almost unbearable.
"You listen to me, Arzenon," she hissed, stepping forward, every inch of her posture radiating righteous anger.
"I don't care if Lorelei was arrogant. I don't care if she looked down on everyone. She died trying to protect this land—her pride intact until the very end!"
Her voice rose, laced with fire and indignation.
"And you… you call her a bitch?"
Raphael didn't flinch. His gaze was unwavering, logical, unyielding. "I call her what she was—an example of why you don't throw yourself at impossible odds. Emotions don't save lives. Strength does."
The sharpness in his words only fueled Luvia's determination. Her sapphire aura flared around her, magic dancing like coiling serpents of light.
"We may not be as strong as you. We may fall in an instant before that monster," she said, her voice trembling slightly with controlled fury. "But we are not weak. And we are not ornaments for you to leave behind while you play the lone hero!"
Her eyes swept to Rin and Reines. "If that fool can die standing—then so can we! So go ahead! Fight Rairen! Lure him here! But when he arrives…"
She raised her hand, the air around her shimmering with radiant energy, gold and blue mingling with the forest's residual magic.
"Let this temple burn with power only nobles like us could channel! Let our pride be the spark that fuels your miracle!"
Turning back to Raphael, her gaze bore into him. "Now—go. Bring him here… and watch what happens when an Edelfelt fights beside a madman!"
Raphael's lips curved into a small, proud smirk, acknowledging the fire in her voice. With a flash of movement, he teleported away to face Rairen, leaving the trio at the center of the colossal, gleaming Solomon Workshop Temple.
Rin stood silently, stunned. The usually arrogant, haughty Luvia—riled, furious, and radiant—was a sight to behold. Her sapphire eyes blazed, her pride unshakable.
"Damn," Rin muttered, a mixture of admiration and disbelief in her voice. "I never thought Luvia could be this intense. Guess she's not all about jewels and profit after all."
Reines, arms crossed, observed calmly. "Arzenon is a madman, but there's a twisted logic to his methods. As for Luvia…"
She smirked faintly. "She may obsess over gold, but pride as an Edelfelt burns deep. She'll fight, alright. Whether that's enough to take on Rairen… we'll have to see."
Her gaze drifted toward the forest, where Raphael had vanished, leaving the shimmering, golden workshop—and a storm of determination—behind.