Damn it...

After swatting aside another strike, Sham looked spent; thin cuts striped her skin, and her robe hung in tatters like torn willow leaves.

After so many fierce clashes, even Sham felt the ash of fatigue settle; worse, she faced two storms at once.

Anlise De Eilte, a Flamebu Family officer, excelled at close-in brawls; if she got in, her fists hit like hail.

Yanbu Junichi, young heir of the Flamebu Family and son of the current head, wielded the secret “Sword Flash”; its bite was a thunderbolt she couldn’t match.

Two predators to handle, and a friend to shield; the odds were sand slipping through her fingers, and her situation was a cliff at night.

Miyuki Kiseki watched Sham half-kneel, breath raking like a broken bellows; she tasted the helplessness of a fish laid on the block.

Why can’t I do anything...

I couldn’t fix the mess at school, couldn’t win justice for a friend; and now I can’t even lend her strength...

What am I, in the end, but a loud mouth with empty hands...

Bitter, Mizuki bit her lower lip; her jade-fine hands clenched so hard they seemed ready to crack like winter ice.

Sham felt pain like a cold tide, almost despair; her strength was spent, and even self-preservation frayed like smoke.

“What’s wrong, ‘Magician’? Weren’t you cocky a moment ago?”

Anlise’s eyes danced with mockery, her smile a cat’s paw batting at Sham’s last breaths.

“Oh? Can’t even talk now? Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

Sham didn’t bother to snap back; her fate sat in their palms like a sparrow in a hawk’s shadow, and rashness meant ruin.

“Hahaha! So the little chick has moments like this—how delightful.”

Anlise’s signature laugh rang loose, like spilled wine, her voice even more unrestrained.

“Do your job, Anlise De Eilte.”

Yanbu lifted his blade, bored, his tone a dull iron scrape.

“I know, Yanbu. I was going to take that other brat’s Magical Stone anyway.”

“Tch. Then move. Why waste time?”

“A little play would be fun too. The ‘Magician’ is capable, and going home now would be dull.”

“She’s nothing to me. Don’t mess around. Don’t forget our purpose.”

“Yeah, yeah. What a dull man.”

Sham shut their chatter out; her mind ran like a night river, searching for a path to carry Mizuki away in the shortest time.

Strike first, like summer thunder...

Answer found, Sham spoke with action; Mystic Power bloomed under her skin, etching circuits like living filigree, circling lightly like drifting petals. She tightened a small fist, and the air ballooned like a gas blast, spearing toward the two.

Yanbu gave a thin laugh; he flicked his hand, and currents formed like glass blades, slicing the incoming shock cleanly.

“Now!”

Sham slapped down with her palm; spring rain fell from above, every sharp drop a hidden dart slicing the air.

Yanbu treated it like mist; he raised his blade toward the sky. The rain spikes hammered the floor, smoke coughing upward like kiln dust. When the haze thinned, Yanbu stood untouched, clean as a new blade.

How...

That was everything she had; even Anlise wouldn’t brush it off that easily, yet this man stood with not a scratch...

Faced with that gulf, Sham felt fear rise like a winter wind in a ruined hall.

“Hey, Yanbu, the ‘Magician’ is mine.”

“You’re annoying. Whoever strikes first—does it matter? You’d take longer anyway.”

Sham’s heart hardened; she conjured a ring of wind blades like crescent moons, caging them in and stabbing hard.

“Do I look dead to you?!”

Yanbu’s annoyance showed; his blade flared with energy like lightning caught in steel.

Clang!

In an instant, the room packed with countless streams, every one a knife; they swirled into a tornado, a devouring storm of edges.

Sham swore under her breath; she slammed her palm down and tore the floor up like a shield, bracing to meet the gale.

“Run, Kiseki!”

Sham’s voice cracked like a whip, urgent and raw.

“Sha—”

Before Mizuki could speak, Sham tackled her; the hard floor smacked Mizuki’s head, and for a heartbeat her thoughts went blank.

Swish!

In breaths, currents sliced the space apart; countless blades carved the room, leaving wounds in walls like claw marks on bark.

When the storm faded, they saw the ceiling above them cut cleanly open; lift your eyes, and the sky stared back like a cold eye.

“This…”

Miyuki Kiseki gaped; someone wielded power like a falling mountain.

“Tch. Waste of my time.”

It sounded like he hadn’t even used full strength; that chill was deeper than midnight.

Scarier than Anlise...

Cold sweat glazed Sham’s skin; her hairs bristled like quills, and a sharp chill rang in her skull.

“Ah!”

She let out a raw growl; she flooded herself with Mystic Power, and a tongue of flame unfurled, its bloom dazzling, the explosion thundering through the room.

His attack was a reaper’s scythe; he’d sliced away a quarter of the building. Fight him head-on, and loss was certain.

Using the fire’s glare as cover, Sham wrapped an arm around Mizuki’s waist and sprinted for any scrap of safety; everywhere was danger, but staying meant the blade.

“Hey, they ran.”

“Great. Hide-and-seek again.”

Sham dragged Mizuki through corridors like reeds in wind; time blurred, legs numbed, and they didn’t dare stop for a single breath.

When they finally couldn’t run, Sham collapsed, gulping air like a drowning swimmer; Mizuki bent, hands on her knees, pulling back lost breath.

“Sham...”

“I know. We’re in trouble...”

“Then... what do we do...”

“I don’t know. One of them alone is bad enough... He’s the young master of a main family; his strength isn’t a joke... I don’t have the confidence to face that tier...”

Hearing Sham’s self-mocking tone, Mizuki clenched her hands again, knuckles white as snow stones.

So there’s no way...

“Sorry, Kiseki. I’m close to my limit...”

Sham’s apology was heavy as rain; guilt pricked her for dragging Mizuki into this. Even if Mizuki blamed her, she wouldn’t be angry; despair left little room for pride.

“That’s not true. You protected me, Sham.”

“But next... The gun I gave you earlier—you still have it, right? Take it and run. I’ll stay and buy time...”

With no strength left, Sham offered her last, best plan like a bitter pill.

“No. I can’t abandon you. I’d never forgive myself.”

Mizuki didn’t hesitate; her refusal was a blade cutting through fog.

“Don’t worry. My contractor will be here soon. She’ll get me out. You just leave with a quiet heart.”

“I won’t! I won’t leave a friend to die. I’m not that kind of person!”

“Are you an idiot? A normal person would’ve agreed by now... Why make it harder on yourself...”

Yes, a normal person would grab any lifeline, would do anything to live. Two hours ago, Mizuki had been trembling like a rabbit; if a chance came, she would’ve clutched it. She didn’t want to die—no one does. But now...

She couldn’t find an answer; she only knew that if she left Sham behind, she’d loathe herself forever. She was still afraid, like frost inside the ribs, but more than she feared death, she feared betraying a friend.

Because Sham had rushed through knives and fire to save her; for someone named Miyuki Kiseki, Sham came without a backward glance. What right did she have to run?

“I won’t accept it. I... I want us all to go back safe, laughing.”

In that moment, Mizuki’s face shed panic and fog; it steadied like stone. She had no power, but she felt strength bloom within like a lantern lit in winter.

“You really...”

Sham couldn’t help but smile; hearing those words, she felt trust rise unbidden, like a tide. So this is...

Miyuki Kiseki, the one chosen by the Magical Stone.

“Listen. I have a way, but it’s cruel. It will change your life completely. In return, we might both walk away.”

Sham’s expression went solemn as moonlight; there was no pretense in her voice, and any heart would believe her.

“What... is it?”

Shaken by that gravity, Mizuki swallowed, her throat tight as a drumhead.

“Will you sign a contract with me—and become a Witch?”