"Boss, you go in first."

"Boss, you go in first."

The Magic Swordsman, Charlotte Blanche, and the Gunmage, Kane Blanche—two brothers—spoke in unison.

"The foe’s tough. Leave this to us."

"The foe’s tough. Leave this to us."

"Blood’s up! Come fight like a hero—loud, bright, and full-bore—"

"—then let’s see whose teamwork runs deeper."

Arcane components swarmed like storm clouds, forging a steel cage that blotted the sky. In that heartbeat where Charlotte and Kane couldn’t move, the long-charged cannonmouth bloomed with sun-bright light.

Stini had seen Lunarfolk before. But Lunarfolk with that tidal mana, paired with a human’s finesse for arcane machinery—this was a first.

Worry rose before reason. It tightened her chest as she glanced at the brothers in the center.

"You two—are you okay?"

"Heh, we’ve survived three years in the Antimagic City. Don’t sweat it."

"Heh, we’ve survived three years in the Antimagic City. Don’t sweat it."

Charlotte’s greatsword whirled into a saw, the edge a spinning maw that bit and devoured the beam of light.

Kane’s twin pistols sang. He mapped trajectories, shaved them off-line. If a shell refused to bend, he popped it midair.

They slipped between rain and fire. They shot while dodging, cut while advancing, threading the barrage until they closed on Opa and Eve.

"Not bad, for human bodies. But you still can’t match us—"

"—have you ever seen a Lunarfolk who’s weak in close combat?"

Some components folded again and reshaped into a hammer so ugly it insulted the word.

Opa and Eve traded a glance and lunged. The brothers veered aside. The hammer hit earth with a boom that rattled teeth; Stini clapped her hands over her ears.

"Ah ya ya, Boss, these two are trouble. Go on, we’ll back you later. We should live that long."

"Ah ya ya, Boss, these two are trouble. Go on, we’ll back you later. We should live that long."

"I don’t need you two reminding me. I’m getting married when I get back! Fight properly!" Stini’s taste for efficiency never meshed with the brothers’ clowning.

Words aside, their counterattack never dulled. Every shot, every cut, hunted blind spots, angles mean as a hook blade.

The Lunar twins pressed harder overall. But Charlotte and Kane leaned on what they’d learned grubbing a life in the Antimagic City: never miss an opening, trade a drop for a deluge, make violence precise. Their sense for “combat” cut cleaner than that of two scholars.

For a while, neither side could force a decision.

"We don’t really mind either way. As long as someone’ll brawl, we’re happy—"

"—but honestly, we’d rather not die to two scruffy punks."

Stini saw the twins weren’t intent on blocking. She gave the brothers a grave nod and sprinted for the far gate.

"Hey, hey, Boss, we’re not planning to die yet. What’s with the funeral face?"

"Hey, hey, Boss, we’re not planning to die yet. What’s with the funeral face?"

Their lazy, teasing voices floated behind her like a familiar wind. Stini couldn’t help a smile. Her steps quickened.

Gatekeeper, Fi Miller, faced by the brawler, Gloria Colonna.

Gatekeeper, Brown Dan, faced by the Arcane Engineer, Raven Segrito.

Gatekeeper, Cassio Melansa, faced by the Divine Healer, Pavi Drake.

Gatekeepers, Opa Frida and Eve Frida, faced by the Magic Swordsman Charlotte Blanche, and the Gunmage Kane Blanche.

And at the end, the Fourth Princess of the Cavat Kingdom, Lichebella Cavat!

I have to catch up. Stini bit her lip, poured everything into her legs, and raced through the long, echoing tunnel.

—

When she stepped into a sea of stars she’d never seen, she froze. Then her gaze locked on the arcane furnace crackling azure, shedding blue lightning from mana oversaturation.

"So this is... the ‘Taboo’?" Her eyes sharpened like drawn steel. She coiled, ready to drive her Holy Spear, Qianchi, through the furnace.

The defenses looked tight. One thrust might not do it.

"No." A pleasant woman’s voice snapped the wire in Stini’s spine. She jerked, then blinked.

"Huh?"

"Do Heroes ask such silly questions?"

Lichebella stepped out from the forest of machines in a wedding dress of immaculate white.

Anger surged first, hot and raw. Stini tamped it down, and with it the innocent softness that belonged to a child who never met evil. She buried both deep.

She raised her Holy Spear and Holy Sword. She gave her name like an oath.

"I am the Hero, Stini Saya, also the Heretic Inquisitor’s designated chief. Surrender."

"You say that, but you were aiming at the furnace, weren’t you? Don’t worry. It isn’t the ‘Taboo.’ It looks like it, but it isn’t."

She fed mana into a component. The furnace’s surge gentled, like a tide pulling back.

"Why... I thought you’d use the ‘Taboo.’ Why shut it down?"

"Ha. Did you expect me to end the world? Rest easy. Like you, I love this world."

Stini let out a breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding.

Behind her glasses, Lichebella’s eyes cut like glass and read the tremor in Stini’s heart.

"Think you don’t have to kill anymore? Think you can lay down guilt? No. I won’t surrender. You’ll have to kill me, or the Truth Seekers Assembly won’t fall."

"What do you mean? Why build that and mimic a Taboo’s wave?"

"To draw the strongest into our core. No—to draw the leader. Someone with real say. Even a commoner would do. I want to talk to him. Not as prisoner and jailer, but as two explorers, question for question."

"Then surrender... no, you can talk to me."

"You? Hahahahaha." Lichebella laughed, a sound edged with grief, thin and cutting. "Anyone but you. Talking to you means nothing. It won’t change a thing. I lose this time—what a pity. I didn’t expect the first through my door to be the Hero."

"Why not me? I can understand you!"

"You can’t."

"Why!"

"Because—you gave up trying to understand what isn’t you. You refuse to face what you brand as evil. You call flight ‘justice’ because others said so. Hero, once you blind yourself with your own righteousness and bolt your ears, neither of us qualifies for salvation."

"No, I’m not—"

"What a waste... Enough talk. Let’s fight."

Lichebella flicked lace-trimmed sleeves. In the Assembly’s own home ground, countless Constructs sprang from the machine-warrens and charged their lone foe.

The furnace’s loosed mana coiled around Lichebella, starlight beading on the pure white gown.

Components locked and spun, auto-assembling spells. Ice bolts, burning shafts, and spears of lightning burst forth.

"We’ve one thing left—let’s see whether you take my head first, or I crush your heart!"

Shock still rang in Stini’s bones. But the body drilled by years moved on instinct. Spear and sword crossed. She caught the tide, felt the impact—then struck back.

—

At the last heartbeat before the Hall of Truth fell, Stini burst from the castle and tumbled across the ground twice, dirt in her teeth.

Lucky. No serious wounds.

She passed the head to Maki and swept the field with a soldier’s eye.

"They’re a bit drained. Otherwise, fine."

Maki looked at Stini with regret—an echo of Lichebella’s look. It crawled under Stini’s skin. She didn’t want to bear that gaze again.

She muttered something perfunctory and slipped away like dodging a ghost, running to her friends.

"Gloria, Raven, Pavi, and you two idiots—thank the heavens you’re all right!"

"We’re all right, sure, but beating those Arcane Engineers took some doing."

Pavi let his warhammer rest and wove a Divine Art over Stini, warmth closing wounds like dawn light.

"Still, everyone fought hard and won."

"Of course. Boss is the Hero. With her leading, there’s no problem we can’t crack."

"Of course. Boss is the Hero. With her leading, there’s no problem we can’t crack."

The brothers’ praise made Stini itch. Worse, they made her sound like a gang boss from the Antimagic City. She punched each once to shut them up.

Thanks to those two clowns, her mood lightened.

"Even so, something feels off this time..."

Raven sighed at her ruined dress—sixty Colonna gold coins, high-end—and she’d worn it as a combat suit. Her childhood friend’s breezy swagger made Stini, who was always short on gear money, a little jealous.

Right, Raven had been married for years, even if it wasn’t going great. Stini, marrying at twenty-eight, should learn from someone with experience. What to watch for. And, well, the bedroom stuff...

"Raven, help me plan the wedding."

"...I can’t shake it. They were holding back. Like they never meant to kill us... ah! Nothing. Right, your wedding. I still think the groom—"

Laughing with her, Stini walked away. At the end, she glanced back at the ruins.

It felt like a heap of secrets that should’ve been theirs lay buried there. And now, all of them were out of reach.