Tsukasa's figure had long since vanished from outside the mansion, leaving behind a room of silence.
In the drawing room, Emilia sat on a chair by the window, her hands tightly clasped on her lap. She gazed at the gloomy sky outside the window, her eyes filled with unshakeable worry as she softly broke the silence.
"Tsukasa-san... will it really be alright? The opponent is a renowned Sin Archbishop of the Witch Cult."
These words voiced the deepest unease in everyone's heart within the room.
Indeed, they could only pin their hopes on Tsukasa. This was a cruel reality and a gamble with no way out.
If the battlefield truly unfolded around the mansion, facing two Sin Archbishops, Tsukasa might not have the spare capacity to protect them.
There might even be a siege by a large number of witch cultists under their command. In that case, even with Ram and Frederica, they would find it difficult to ensure Emilia's safety.
Conversely, if the two Sin Archbishops perceived Tsukasa's threat and chose to bypass him, launching a direct raid on the relatively weakly defended mansion, that would also be a catastrophic disaster.
To advance was risky, to retreat was dangerous.
Amidst this heavy anxiety—
Ram's voice rang out. "Although he is extremely frivolous and a big idiot, he also occasionally carries an infuriating sense of individualism."
Ram looked up, her red eyes meeting Emilia's and scanning the other tense faces in the room.
Then, with a tone that was almost categorical, she spoke the latter half, "But there is no doubt that he is the strongest magic user I have ever seen. Even Roswaal-sama... he would probably defeat him easily."
Thinking this, Ram's fingers unconsciously rose, lightly pressing against her chest. Beneath the fabric, her skin was warm. However, she could clearly feel that below that, at the position of her Gate, there existed a 'foreign object.'
A foreign object that should have been lost forever.
Before leaving, Tsukasa had 'embedded' that segment of the oni horn, which emitted a soft white light, into her body.
The process wasn't painful. Instead, it carried a gentle warmth, as if that horn was originally a missing puzzle piece of her body, now slowly returning to its place.
She remembered Tsukasa's explanation at the time. His tone was casual, but his eyes were serious. "If I install it back for you directly, you'd probably suffer a mana rampage right now. Ram, you've been neglected for too long. Your body and mana circuits have long since adapted to a fragmented state. Forcing a restoration would instead be fatal."
So, he just buried the horn in first. In his words, it was to let the horn slowly adapt to the mana environment within Ram's body and let her body and mana circuits get used to the feeling of being complete again.
"When I get back, I'll fix it properly for you. By the way, remember to be my exclusive maid then."
That was what he had said to Ram.
But before he left, he said a few more things—about the principles of Reverse Cursed Technique.
Those words were profound and obscure, completely beyond the scope of conventional magic.
"Although I don't expect you to understand it immediately..."
He had paused then, his blue eyes looking at her, but in the end, he shook his head and said no more.
—
Now was not the time to be immersed in this. There were more important things to do—defend this mansion and protect the people here.
"Petra, go check the defensive arrangements for the kitchen and back door areas. Frederica, please come with Ram. We need to confirm the safety of each floor of the main building."
She then looked at Emilia. "Emilia-sama, please stay in this room for now, it is relatively the safest. Puck-sama..."
Puck who had been quietly squatting on Emilia's shoulder blinked. "Of course, I will protect Lia well."
—
The tense atmosphere permeating the mansion formed a nearly eerie contrast with the scene on the hill of Arlam Village.
Tsukasa stood on the highest slope of the village. Beneath his feet, the remains of black-robed cultists and broken puppets were piled like a mountain.
He tilted his head slightly, his blue eyes looking toward the opposite side—another slightly higher hilltop about two kilometers away.
Just moments ago, it had been calm, with only faint traces of Witch Cultists and puppet activity, and no mana fluctuations at the level of a Sin Archbishop could be detected.
Perhaps it was because he cleared the small fry too quickly and thoroughly. But now, a burst of frenzied mana flow and a very obvious, probing mana surge erupted.
Two mana signatures, one violent and one deep, were issuing a challenge toward Tsukasa
He muttered to himself, his voice carrying undisguised annoyance, "Did you get something wrong?"
This scene made him look like an intruder who had broken into someone else's territory and was being "warned" by the owner.
"Then..."
He raised his hand, took off the sunglasses from the bridge of his nose, and casually tucked them into the inner pocket of his kimono.
"Let's get a bit reckless."
The moment the words fell, his posture changed. His right hand rose, fingers held together, palm facing the opposite hilltop. His left hand reached out from below, steadily gripping his right wrist.
The instant this simple movement was completed, with Tsukasa as the center, mana began to converge.
It wasn't just the terror of "quantity." It was the crushing weight of "quality."
Not just the opposite hilltop, but even the Roswaal Mansion miles away, and even the borders of the entire territory—every existence sensitive to mana, whether it was Ram or Puck, felt their hearts sink at the same moment.
At the center of this storm, around Tsukasa, the air distorted. Blue and Red manifested out of thin air. Two forces of completely opposite natures now began to approach, entangle, and even fuse.
"Nine Ropes."
"Polarized Light."
"Crow and Declaration."
"Between Front and Back."
The blue and crimson orbs were forced together as if by invisible hands. Blinding light erupted and then vanished. In its place was a purple sphere.
Simultaneously, Tsukasa's hand signs changed again. His hands moved from gripping the wrist to overlapping and gathering, fingertips touching, palms facing each other. His thumbs and index fingers tightened, forming a stable point of force.
At this instant, around him... no, within dozens of miles, all free-floating mana seemed to be drawn by an invisible vortex, frantically converging toward that point on his fingertips.
Tsukasa raised his eyes, his pupils reflecting the two now-flickering mana flows on the opposite hilltop, his lips pulling into an arrogant curve.
125%, Hollow Technique: Purple!
(End of Chapter)
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