The next day, the moment Yekase stepped into the classroom, a ripple of gasps broke like pebbles thrown into a still pond.

“Teacher?!”

“Why are you in armor?!”

Yekase tapped the curved chest plate, metal ringing out—clang, clang. “This? It’s a little demo on how Flash Energy gets used.”

She was wrapped head to toe in iron like a river stone sealed in frost. Yet unlike standard infantry suits, this armor hugged every contour; no seams, no joints, one continuous piece like poured night.

It looked like a black, glossy second skin that covered her whole body, visor and all, a shadow-slick catsuit that even traced out her waist like a brushstroke.

“By keeping a constant infusion through a sink-circuit,” Yekase said, voice calm as a lake at dawn, “you hold every metal molecule in a jump-state. You get a phase that’s soft as silk, tough as plate… Defense isn’t great though, so it’s just a base layer. Other parts go on top.”

In truth, there were no add-ons. The tech in this under-suit was high, sure, but for her it was a paper umbrella in a storm—nice, and useless. She’d never use it again.

“But, teacher,” Ain raised a hand, curiosity peeking out like a cat at a window, “were you always that tall? You’re almost one-seventy now.”

“Put on Kamen Rider armor and height shifts. Any kid who watches Kamen Rider knows that.”

“And your, uh, measurements seem—”

“Staring at a lady’s measurements is rude, you know.”

Pressure rolled off Yekase like thunder under the skin. Ain shut up on instinct. She flicked on the projector.

“Alright, class. Today’s topic is steady-state infusion—”

…

…

After class, Dorothy slipped to Yekase’s apartment like a shadow ducking through bamboo.

“Teacher—rumor says you founded a mercenary company?”

Yekase was just about to pop the shell, planning to head to Soville City to talk Slackfish Cult business with Livia, when Dorothy’s head peeked in through the door like a startled sparrow. She almost jumped.

“Yeah. I’m bad at running anything like that, though… How’d you hear?”

“I have a little intel network,” Dorothy said, eyes bright as foxfire. “If I didn’t, how would I ever rebuild my homeland?”

Fine. Yekase had slapped Dorothy up to Ling Yi tier over one botched report from the Ailian Qingcheng, and that was on her. Think it through: as a political hostage with only partial freedom, Dorothy had linked up with Alice and spun a team out of thin air. A girl like that wasn’t weak—no way.

“The Shadow Realm War is a wild card,” Dorothy continued, voice lowered like wind through pines. “They’ll definitely meddle in the Golden Apple scramble. To neutralize them, I’ve got a plan.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it.”

Yekase slid off her helmet. The mature face underneath made Dorothy blink, but she kept on.

“I’ll move part of my people into the Slackfish Cult, maybe thirty or forty. The society you founded under your own name already flags the Shadow Realm War. Add a conspicuous shift of personnel, and they’ll send investigators.”

“And then we investigate the investigators.”

“Exactly. And there’s more.”

Dorothy’s smile went impish, a little devil flicking its tail. “The dangerous man we arrested on the Ailian Qingcheng talked plenty in his cell. We used some… little methods. We narrowed their HQ down to a region.”

…Kid, why do you feel more dangerous than him? Yekase, of all people, found herself pitying that nameless chuunibyou boy.

“What’s the verdict?” Yekase tuned her nanometal to a playful candy-pink, then sprayed her hair a shade lighter—cotton-candy white. She tied twin-tails with bunny bands, shrugged on a coat, and asked like a cat stretching.

“North of the Nordics. The killing cold. They call their base—Valhalla.”

The Arctic… a place that hides like a fox in snow.

It matched what the mercenary guild had given her. Yekase nodded. “In that case, I’m heading to Soville City. Want to come?”

“To do what?”

“Register as mercenaries.”

“Eh? But, teacher, you—”

“Professor Luciferin, the seventeen-year-old genius inventor girl, is busy building the Slackfish Cult. As for me? Name’s Lilim. Just your everyday blood mage.”

“A blood mage can’t be everyday!”

“Exactly.”

Blood mages were rare as qilin and old as temple bells—that was the point. Once the eyes in the dark discovered “mercenary Lilim is actually a rare blood-arts heir,” would they ever link her to “Luciferin, the Flash Energy researcher in the City of Ivalice”?

The answer was no.

Use an unimportant secret to cover the crucial secret. That was Yekase’s plan.

She put on a bunny-eared headset she’d salvaged from the city’s undercity trash heap and scrubbed clean. She found a cloak and wrapped Dorothy in it. Moving like two cats on a wall, they slipped out of Ivalice without telling Ling Yi or Jiang Bailu—their identities were tied to Yekase. Bringing them would only tangle nets.

They used Xiaoyuan’s backroad-escape playbook, skirting the peri-urban fringe to reach Soville City.

They didn’t hit the mercenary guild right away. First stop: the inn Yekase had stayed at during the Sovell Conference. One twin room.

“—Cosmic Wizard.”

That was Dorothy’s disguise—she summoned the Tin Man and let it walk in her stead.

The Tin Man’s defense was about as good as a full-plate knight from the middle ages, a relic under neon. Armor looks scary; it bullies the unlucky who don’t have guns or spells.

But among the three spirits of the Cosmic Wizard, it was the only one that shared sight and sound with its master. It couldn’t speak, but with Yekase nearby, that weakness was a paper door.

…So, what does the lion even do?

Dorothy flopped onto the big bed like a satisfied cat and sent the Tin Man to the mercenary guild with Yekase.

Halfway there, Yekase remembered something important. “Did you pick a name?”

…

Oh. Ghosts can’t talk. Yekase thought for a beat. “I’ll call you John.”

The tin knight shook its head hard enough to jangle.

…It’s just a fake identity. So many demands.

“How about Smith?”

The tin knight shook harder, steel rattling like hail on a roof.

“Then say your own name. If you can’t, I’ll pick, and that’s that.”

Both metal arms waved in panic, but not a peep came out. The mute desperation—face hidden—made Yekase laugh. It was like those doujin she read where someone says, “Say stop and I’ll stop,” then gets gagged and ridden till blackout.

“I’ve got it. Mafty Navue Erin. In some language, it means ‘all-knowing, all-powerful king of prophecy.’ Sounds grand, right?”

The tin knight stopped shaking. Acceptance fell like snow.

Yekase and Dorothy’s remote-run Tin Man—no, Lilim and Mafty—stepped into the mercenary guild.

Mafty’s clanking armor and centuries-late sword-and-shield drew every eye in the hall like iron draws lightning. Beside her walked a statuesque woman in a candy-pink, skintight suit. Whistles rose like wind through reeds.

Lilim strode straight to the service window.

“Hi. We’re here to register.”

As she leaned down, the pink-coated headlights on her chest swayed once, twin moons catching every light. The female clerk blinked as if dazzled by a mirror-lake sun.

“Ah… okay! Please fill out these forms…”

Her hands trembled as she passed over two sheets.

Same as the mercenary-company form from yesterday, just no team-member slots. Added gender, age, and “Preferred Weapons/Magic” with “Combat Experience/Title”—handy for clients, probably.

Lilim took the forms and picked the most conspicuous table in the center to sit with Mafty. She started writing.

Name: Lilim

Gender: Female

Age: 22

Primary Fields: Monster Hunts / Odd Jobs / Security

Preferred Weapons/Magic: Witch device “WITCH GEAR”

Combat Experience/Title: One year, untitled

Bio:

Anything short of murder, we’ll handle it!

All injustices—half price!

She nodded, pleased, like a craftsman admiring a well-set inkstone.

She couldn’t play low-key; fame would come like tide to shore—that was the curse of genius. Better to go loud from the start. Flip the persona from looks to tone, and you still cut the line to your old self.

Lilim sprawled over the table, hips arched just so, and peeked at Mafty’s form… Nothing written.

She snatched it and scribbled.

Name: Mafty

Age: 24

Primary Fields: Monster Hunts / Odd Jobs / Security

Preferred Weapons/Magic: Sword and shield, Phase Shift arts

Combat Experience/Title: One year, untitled

Bio:

Has a speech disability. Cannot talk.

But I wield powerful Phase Shift secrets—now you see me, now you don’t!

Across the table, Mafty gave Lilim the middle finger.

So that’s the etiquette of the French court? Remarkable. Lilim shook her head with tragic dignity.