At the Main Gate.
"Damn it!"
Draves dashed towards the Vice President with astonishing speed. In a matter of seconds, he reached her and pulled her into his arms, turning his body to shield her from the incoming slash. The enemy's blade descended with enough force to split the air apart, but before it could reach them, Draves raised his black, thin-bladed sword. The two weapons collided with a sharp metallic ring—yet, instead of being deflected, the incoming slash was swallowed by Draves's blade as though it had been consumed by an endless darkness.
"Sir Draves—!" The Vice President panicked as she found herself held in his arms. Her eyes widened, and her face flushed with alarm as she struggled to understand what had just happened. However, her gaze soon shifted past his shoulder, settling on a figure sprinting through the scarlet flames in the distance. Elvin was running away.
"He is escaping!" she exclaimed, quickly regaining her composure as she pointed towards him. Despite the chaos surrounding them, her voice remained clear enough to carry across the ruined courtyard.
"Don't worry. Guards!"
Draves immediately released the Vice President and turned towards the fleeing figure. His expression hardened, and the calmness that usually accompanied his face disappeared. The guards, who had been scattered by Elvin's sudden attack, immediately straightened upon hearing his command. Some were still struggling to rise from the ground, while others held their weapons with trembling hands. Nevertheless, they all turned towards their target, following the signal Draves gave them.
Elvin was already a considerable distance away. His footsteps carried him through the burning remains of the courtyard, his figure occasionally disappearing behind the thick smoke. He moved with an urgency that suggested he knew precisely what would happen if he allowed himself to be caught. But Draves had no intention of letting him escape.
The guards raised their hands and extended their fingers towards Elvin. A faint, orb-like glow emerged at each fingertip, gradually gathering mana until the surrounding air began to vibrate. Five blue spheres formed in quick succession, their surfaces flickering with concentrated energy. The guards' expressions tightened as they poured their mana into the attacks, carefully aligning their aim with Elvin's rapidly moving figure.
"Mana Snipe!"
The five orbs erupted simultaneously. Brilliant blue beams surged from their centres, cutting through the smoke with blinding speed. Dense mana enveloped each beam, leaving shimmering trails in the air as they tore across the ruined courtyard. The surrounding flames bent away from their passage, and the loose debris scattered beneath the force of the rushing energy.
Elvin's shoulders stiffened.
"Shit—!"
He immediately glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he sensed the approaching attacks. For the briefest moment, his expression revealed genuine surprise. He twisted his body and attempted to change direction, his boots scraping against the broken ground as he pushed himself towards the side. One beam passed close enough to graze his clothing, while another struck the ground behind him and blasted a crater into the ruined courtyard.
But the remaining three were already upon him.
Elvin's eyes widened.
The blue lights filled the corners of his vision, growing brighter with every passing instant. He tried to raise his weapon, but he was a fraction of a second too late.
The five attacks converged.
A deafening explosion swallowed the courtyard.
The impact sent a violent shockwave sweeping across the main gate, forcing the guards to brace themselves as the ground trembled beneath their feet. Broken stones shot through the air, shattered pillars collapsed under the force, and the flames surrounding the courtyard flickered wildly. A towering cloud of smoke and dust surged upwards, concealing everything within its suffocating embrace.
"Ugh!"
One of the guards staggered backwards, shielding his face with his arm. Another dropped to one knee as the shockwave swept past him, his weapon scraping against the ground. Even the Vice President was forced to cover her eyes, her hair whipping across her face as the air filled with dust and burning ash.
For several seconds, no one could see anything.
The only sounds were the crackling flames, the occasional collapse of damaged stone, and the faint ringing that lingered in everyone's ears.
Then, through the thick smoke, something moved.
A hand slowly emerged from the cloud.
It was covered in blood, and the skin along its fingers had been torn away in places, exposing pale bone beneath. Blood dripped from its fingertips, falling onto the shattered ground one drop at a time. The hand twitched once, its fingers curling weakly before falling still.
The guards stared at it.
"Did he… die?" one of them asked, his voice barely rising above a whisper.
No one answered immediately. They continued watching the bloodied hand, waiting for another movement, another sign that the man they had attacked was still alive. But the smoke remained thick, and the figure hidden within it gave no clear indication of what had happened.
"F-Finally… it's over," another guard muttered, his shoulders sagging with relief. His weapon lowered slightly, and a strained smile spread across his exhausted face.
That single sentence was enough to break the tension.
A few guards let out weary sighs, while others exchanged relieved glances. Some even began to cheer, their voices rising above the crackling flames as they convinced themselves that the nightmare had finally come to an end. Yet their celebration sounded strangely hollow against the destruction surrounding them. The courtyard had become little more than a field of ruins. The buildings stood broken and charred, the fountain had collapsed into scattered fragments of stone, and the bodies of the fallen lay motionless beneath the drifting smoke. The soil beneath their feet had turned a deep, dreadful red, as though the entire courtyard had been submerged in a river of blood.
Amid that devastated landscape, however, one person remained silent.
Draves stood with his sword lowered, his gaze fixed on the smoke. His expression was difficult to read, but his fingers had tightened around the hilt of his weapon. He was not looking at the bloodied hand with the relief shared by the other guards. Instead, his eyes seemed to be searching for something—something he had caught a glimpse of just before the explosion.
Something that did not belong there.
"Umm… Sir Draves? What happened?" the Vice President asked cautiously. She had noticed his troubled expression and followed his gaze towards the smoke. "Is something wrong?"
"No… it's nothing." Draves paused, his eyebrows drawing together as he recalled the fleeting image he had seen. "I just noticed something in his hands at that moment—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a scream tore through the courtyard.
"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Every head turned towards the sound.
The remaining cheers died instantly. The guards stiffened, their hands tightening around their weapons as they searched the smoke-filled surroundings. The Vice President's face drained of colour, and Draves's eyes narrowed. He recognised the voice. It had come from one of the guards standing near the edge of the courtyard.
"Ah… H-How…?"
The second voice was weaker, trembling with disbelief.
Everyone rushed towards the source of the sound, their boots crunching against the broken stones. A few guards raised their weapons as they approached, expecting another enemy to emerge from the smoke. Others called out to their comrade, demanding to know what had happened. But the guard offered no answer.
He stood frozen in place, his eyes wide with terror and his mouth hanging open as blood trickled from his lips. His hands trembled helplessly at his sides. A thin, white blade had pierced his torso from behind, its pale surface gleaming faintly beneath the crimson light of the burning courtyard.
For a moment, nobody moved.
The guard slowly lowered his gaze towards the blade protruding from his body, as though his mind refused to accept what his eyes were showing him. His lips parted, but no words came out. Behind him, the figure holding the weapon remained concealed by the smoke.
Draves's expression changed.
The bloodied hand. The strange thing he had glimpsed in Elvin's possession. The way the smoke had swallowed the figure after the explosion.
His eyes widened slightly as the pieces began to fall into place.
"No…!"
He immediately raised his black sword and stepped forward, his entire body tensing as he prepared for another attack.
But the white blade had already begun to withdraw.
And from somewhere behind the wounded guard, a quiet voice emerged from the smoke.
"You really thought that would be enough?"
Elvin stood amid the scarlet flames, a devilish expression plastered across his face. His left eye twitched uncontrollably, and his hands and legs trembled, betraying the fear he desperately tried to conceal. Yet, despite his trembling body, the corners of his lips remained curled into a bloodthirsty smile—the expression of a man who seemed to take pleasure in drowning himself in blood. His clothes were torn, and blood trickled down his arm, but his gaze remained fixed on the guards who had dared to attack him.
"How…?" a guard nearby muttered, his voice cracking as he stared at Elvin in disbelief.
"You were really trying to kill me." Elvin tilted his head, his smile widening as he looked around at the horrified faces surrounding him. "Well, bad luck for you. Look at me. I'm still alive."
As he spoke, Elvin slowly bent down and picked up the heart of the soldier he had just killed. He held it in his palm, examining it with the curious expression of someone inspecting an unfamiliar object. Blood trickled between his fingers, dripping onto the ground as he turned the organ from one side to another.
"Should I eat it…? Nah. It needs cooking first."
Elvin scrunched up his face in exaggerated disgust, forcing a smile that looked more like a mockery of human emotion than an actual expression. He then brought the organ closer and licked it before letting out a quiet chuckle, as though he had just made a particularly amusing joke.
"How dare you!"
Two guards shouted almost simultaneously. Their faces twisted with rage and despair. Their comrade had been killed before their eyes, and now the very man responsible was treating his remains like a piece of food. Their grief quickly overwhelmed their fear, and one of them clenched his weapon so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"YOU BASTARD!"
Before Draves could stop him, one of the guards sprang forward, his weapon raised as he charged straight at Elvin. The flames danced across his armour as he ran, his eyes burning with fury. Elvin's gaze immediately shifted towards him. For a fraction of a second, their eyes met.
Elvin's smile widened.
He flicked a coin into the air.
"The Devil's Fare… What—?" Draves's eyes widened as he recognised the coin spinning above Elvin's fingers. Its surface reflected the scarlet flames, but something was wrong with its reflection. For an instant, the coin seemed to show two different faces at once, as though reality itself could not decide which side was facing upwards.
The coin spun once.
Then twice.
And in the next instant, Elvin vanished.
The charging guard's eyes widened in confusion as his target disappeared directly before him. He barely had time to react before a sudden chill crawled up his spine. A presence had appeared behind him.
Elvin materialised three feet away, directly at the guard's back. His boots touched the shattered ground without making a sound, and his sword was already moving before the guard could turn around. He swung with the full momentum of his teleportation, directing the thin blade towards the guard's shoulder.
The guard's body stiffened.
He could not dodge.
He could not even turn around.
The blade descended—
Clang!
A sharp metallic impact rang across the courtyard.
Draves had arrived.
His black sword intercepted Elvin's weapon just inches from the guard's shoulder. Sparks scattered from the point of contact, illuminating Draves's hardened expression. His feet had carved shallow grooves into the ground from the force of the impact, yet his stance remained firm.
"Get back!" Draves ordered.
The guard stumbled away immediately, his face pale as he realised how close he had come to death.
Elvin's eyes narrowed.
"Tch. You really are annoying, Professor."
Draves did not answer. He immediately coated his right hand in mana, the energy spreading across his fingers and forearm like a second layer of skin. His mana possession was nearly instantaneous, and the faint glow surrounding his arm intensified as he shifted his weight forward.
At the same time, his left eye began to emit a faint white light.
The world changed.
Fragments of a shattered mirror appeared within his vision, each piece suspended in an endless expanse of darkness. They were countless—some no larger than fingernails, others large enough to reflect an entire battlefield. Within every fragment lay a different possibility, a different outcome waiting to unfold.
Draves's gaze moved across them.
Then he found it.
A white fragment of mirror, its surface marked by a single, unblinking eye.
A thin white thread emerged from the pupil.
It stretched across the darkness and connected directly to Draves's left eye. The moment the connection was established, white flames flickered around his pupil, and the surrounding mirror fragments began to tremble.
Inside his mind, a voice rang out.
Blessed Authority: Matrix Third — Eternal Gaze.
The name echoed through his consciousness as the countless fragments of the mirror began to move.
Draves leaned forward, using the momentum of his stance to launch a punch directly towards Elvin's face. His mana-coated fist cut through the smoke, carrying enough force to shatter bone if it connected.
"Shit!"
Elvin reacted instinctively.
He twisted his body and poured mana into his right hand. An orange sphere materialised out of thin air, its surface flickering with unstable energy. The sphere grew brighter by the second, distorting the air around it as though the space itself were beginning to melt.
Draves noticed it immediately.
The white thread connected to his left eye sparkled.
Millions of mirror fragments emerged within his vision, each revealing the next ten seconds from a different perspective. In one fragment, Draves severed Elvin's right hand before the orange sphere could fully form. In another, Elvin exhausted his mana, allowing Draves to strike him and launch him across the courtyard. In yet another, the orange sphere pierced through Draves's torso, leaving him unable to move.
Each possibility unfolded independently.
Each showed a different future.
Yet the white threads connecting the fragments began to converge, linking one possibility to another until they formed a tangled web of potential outcomes. Some threads snapped before reaching their destinations. Others twisted into dead ends, their futures disappearing into darkness. But one thread remained bright, stretching towards a single mirror fragment at the edge of Draves's vision.
He focused on it.
For an instant, he saw himself retreating.
He saw the Vice President falling.
He saw the guards being swallowed by the explosion.
And then he understood.
The orange sphere was not an ordinary attack.
It was a trap designed to punish anyone who tried to interrupt its formation.
Draves's pupils contracted.
"Elvin, you—!"
Too late.
The orange sphere burst.
A blinding flash swallowed the courtyard, followed by a deafening explosion that shook the very foundations of the main gate. Flames erupted in every direction as the shockwave swept through the ruins. The guards were thrown off their feet, and broken stones shot through the air like projectiles. The Vice President barely managed to shield her face before the blast struck her, sending her tumbling backwards through the smoke.
Draves was caught in the centre of the explosion.
The force hurled him away, his black sword scraping across the ground as he fought to maintain his grip. The surrounding flames surged upwards, swallowing the courtyard in a sea of scarlet light. For several seconds, the entire battlefield disappeared beneath a towering cloud of smoke and dust.
Then silence fell.
Only the crackling of the flames remained.
✧✧✧
Draves immediately sprang backwards as the smoke began to settle. His boots struck the ground, and he slid several feet before regaining his balance. His coat was torn, and blood trickled from a cut along his forehead, but his gaze remained sharp.
His left eye glowed once again.
The fragments of the shattered mirror appeared before him, revealing a multitude of possible futures. This time, however, he did not search for Elvin's next attack. Instead, he looked for the future in which the remaining guards survived.
One fragment caught his attention.
A sword.
A guard standing beneath the shadow of the collapsing wall.
And Draves, moving before the debris could reach him.
He chose it.
Without hesitation, Draves rushed towards the guard, who was still struggling to stand after being thrown backwards by the explosion. The young man barely had time to raise his head before Draves grabbed him and pulled him into a tight embrace, shielding him with his own body.
A faint golden glow emerged from Draves's mana.
It spread across his shoulders and chest, flowing down his arms before wrapping around his entire body. Golden plates materialised one after another, locking together with a series of metallic clicks. The armour formed over his torso, shoulders, forearms, and legs, its polished surface reflecting the scarlet flames. A golden crest appeared at its centre, glowing faintly as mana circulated through the armour.
The young guard stared at him in shock.
"Sir Draves…?"
"Stay down!"
Draves tightened his hold around the guard and lowered his head.
The next instant, the explosion's remaining force swept through the area.
A wall of fire and debris slammed into the golden armour. The impact drove Draves backwards, his boots digging into the shattered earth as he absorbed the force. Cracks spread across the armour's outer surface, and fragments of golden light scattered into the air, but he refused to loosen his grip on the guard.
The shockwave passed.
Draves remained standing.
He slowly released the young man, checking him for injuries before pushing him towards the other survivors.
"Can you walk?"
"Y-Yes, sir!"
"Then get away from here."
Draves turned towards the Vice President, who was struggling to rise near a broken section of the fountain. He immediately crossed the distance between them, offering her a hand. She accepted it, and he pulled her to her feet.
"Vice President, you need to leave this place."
Her expression changed immediately.
"What? No! I can't leave you here alone. Elvin is still—"
"That is precisely why you need to leave." Draves's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. He glanced towards the smoke, where a faint silhouette could be seen moving between the flames. "I don't know what he has planned, but this battlefield is no longer safe for you. If you stay here, I will have to divide my attention between protecting you and fighting him."
The Vice President clenched her fists.
"But—"
"Please." Draves looked directly into her eyes. For a brief moment, his stern expression softened. "I need you to trust me."
She fell silent.
Draves then turned towards the remaining guards. Some were injured, others exhausted, and all of them looked towards him with expressions that mixed fear with determination.
"You lot! Escort the Vice President away from the main gate. Protect her at all costs, and do not turn back unless you receive a direct order from her. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
The guards immediately gathered around the Vice President. Though they were reluctant to leave their commander behind, they knew better than to question his orders.
The Vice President, however, remained where she stood for another moment. Her eyes lingered on Draves, searching his face for any sign of uncertainty.
"Sir Draves… please be careful."
Draves gave her a small nod.
"I will."
At last, she turned away and allowed the guards to lead her towards the safer corridors. Their figures gradually disappeared behind the smoke, leaving Draves alone before the burning main gate.
The moment they were gone, the atmosphere changed.
The scarlet flames spread across the ruins, casting long, distorted shadows over the shattered ground. Draves slowly raised his black sword, its thin blade absorbing the flickering light around it. His golden armour began to fade, dissolving into tiny particles of mana that drifted away like glowing embers.
He stared at Elvin.
The latter stood several feet away, his head lowered and his shoulders trembling.
Then Elvin's mouth curled upwards.
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
"Heh…"
His shoulders shook more violently.
"Hehehe…"
And then he began to laugh.
It was not the laughter of a man who had narrowly escaped death. It was the laughter of someone who had witnessed a joke so absurd that he could no longer contain himself.
Draves's expression darkened.
"What is so funny?"
Elvin slowly raised his head. His left eye was still twitching, and his fingers trembled around the hilt of his sword. Yet the smile on his face had grown wider, revealing a disturbing delight that made the surrounding flames seem almost lifeless.
"You really think you're my opponent?"
Draves's grip tightened around his sword.
Before he could respond, a strange sensation crawled across the back of his neck.
Danger.
His instincts screamed at him to move.
He immediately leaned forward, twisting his body as he attempted to evade whatever was approaching. A thin blade swept through the space where his neck had been a fraction of a second earlier, missing him by mere inches.
But Elvin was already moving.
He flicked another coin into the air.
The coin spun between them, its surface reflecting a red light that did not belong to the surrounding flames.
Draves's eyes widened.
"Again—?!"
The coin vanished.
So did Elvin.
A crimson glow bloomed in the air, spreading like an unnatural stain across the smoke-filled sky. The flames surrounding the courtyard seemed to recoil from it, their movements slowing as though something far more ancient had begun to impose its presence upon the world.
Draves immediately stepped back, raising his sword.
His left eye blazed with white light.
The fragments of the mirror appeared once again, but something was wrong.
The futures were disappearing.
One by one, the mirror fragments cracked and crumbled into nothingness. The white threads connecting them snapped, leaving Draves with fewer and fewer possibilities to examine. He tried to focus on a single fragment, but even that image began to distort, its surface darkening as an unfamiliar presence pressed against his authority.
For the first time since the battle began, Draves felt a chill that had nothing to do with fear for someone else's life.
He was being watched.
Not by Elvin.
By something that had just arrived.
The crimson light expanded.
And at the main gate, seven streaks of light emerged from the darkness.
Each possessed a different hue, yet all seven carried an inexplicable darkness at their core. They circled one another, twisting through the air like fragments of a broken constellation. Slowly, they began to converge, their lights merging into a single silhouette.
The air grew heavy.
The scarlet flames bent towards the figure, while the dust scattered across the courtyard rose into the air and remained suspended. Even the broken stones seemed to tremble beneath the pressure of the descending presence.
Draves stood motionless.
His left eye continued to glow, but the mirror fragments offered him no clear future. Every attempt to perceive the figure ended with the same result: a vast darkness swallowing the image before it could fully form.
The seven lights finally merged.
A man stood at the entrance.
He wore a black robe that concealed most of his body, and a hood shadowed his face. For several seconds, he remained perfectly still, surveying the ruined courtyard as though he had arrived at a place he had been expecting to visit for a very long time.
Then he raised one hand.
His fingers curled around the edge of his hood.
And he slowly removed it.
The man who emerged from beneath the cloak looked almost like a dwarf standing among giants. His frame was short, but there was nothing small about the pressure radiating from him. Long white hair fell across his shoulders, its strands moving gently despite the absence of wind. His face was unnaturally pale, almost marble-like, and his expression carried the quiet indifference of someone who had long since stopped finding the world surprising.
His right eye was missing.
In its place sat a smooth white marble, embedded within the empty socket. It reflected the surrounding flames without revealing anything beneath its polished surface. His remaining left eye possessed a black pupil, so dark that it seemed to swallow the light around it.
His right hand was worse.
The flesh had become intertwined with an unnatural darkness, as though madness itself had devoured his arm and remade it into something no longer entirely human. Black veins crawled beneath his pale skin, spreading upwards from his wrist and disappearing beneath the sleeve of his robe.
Both his hands were covered in claws formed from darkness and shadows. They extended from his fingers like curved blades, their edges wavering between solid matter and something that barely belonged to the physical world.
The man took a single step forward.
The sound of his foot touching the ground was quiet.
Yet Draves felt the impact deep within his bones.
The stranger's gaze travelled across the dead, the ruins, and the blood-stained earth. Finally, his remaining eye settled upon Draves.
A faint smile appeared on his pale face.
"Ah… what a dreadful welcome."
His voice was deep and steady, carrying an almost courteous amusement that seemed utterly out of place amid the burning ruins.
He spread his clawed hands slightly, as though presenting himself before an audience.
"Seven lights to announce my arrival, a kingdom of flames to illuminate my path, and a battlefield drenched in blood to greet my feet."
His smile widened.
"Truly, you have gone to such trouble for me."
He tilted his head, the white marble in his missing eye catching the scarlet glow.
"However, I must admit… I expected someone to be waiting at the gate."
For a brief moment, his gaze sharpened.
"So tell me…"
The darkness around his claws began to writhe.
"Where is the one who intends to welcome me?"
He paused, allowing the question to hang over the ruined courtyard.
Then he answered it himself.
"Ah, how rude of me. I haven't even introduced myself."
The man placed one clawed hand against his chest and bowed ever so slightly, his expression almost polite.
"Remember this name, Draves."
His black pupil fixed upon the professor's glowing left eye.
"I am Ryuen."
He straightened.
"And now that I've arrived…"
A thin smile returned to his pale face.
"Shall we begin the real battle?"