Chapter 25: I’m Innocent! Look, My Pants Are Still On!

Let’s be honest—the War God’s bloodline truly breeds hidden talents! Whoever shattered Cindira’s Battle Aura Vortex within the family must be extraordinary. That technique alone was breathtaking! Though her vortex was broken, her battle aura hadn’t dissipated—it lay dormant inside her. Clearly, when they crippled her aura, they’d already paved the way for its restoration.

This meant a Saint-tier expert could rebuild her vortex without drastic demotion—just a year or two of recovery. After all, building from zero is infinitely harder than scaling from one to a hundred!

For me? Child’s play. I came from a world where lightning mastery reached its peak. I’d *suffered* through three years of high school physics! Other elements? I wouldn’t brag. But lightning? I wielded the Lorentz force in my left hand, Ampère’s force in my right, electromagnetic induction formulas etched into my chest—I’d slashed through compulsory textbooks to optional volumes without blinking. Gods or mortals, none could stand in my way!

“Is there still hope for me?” Cindira asked, pulling on her coat, eyes brimming with expectation.

“I can try,” I said carefully, “but I won’t promise success. Your condition’s better than I expected. Still, your body’s fragile. Start treatment soon—nursing an illness is like raising a tiger!”

“You? You can truly restore my Battle Aura Vortex?”

“I’ll try!” I stressed again. “No guarantees, but I’m confident.”

“You… won’t deceive me?”

Distrust was natural. We’d known each other mere hours. Entrusting one’s life to a stranger? If Cindira hadn’t hesitated, I’d have worried about the Purple Judas legacy’s survival.

“I’ve no reason to help you,” I said, “but none to harm you either. Call it karma, if you must.”

“…Thank you.” Cindira fell silent before whispering her gratitude. Was it for the chance to reclaim her power? Or for acknowledging her righteousness? Only she knew.

“Enough. Lie back. We begin.” I pulled out another Star Absorption Glove, sliding it onto my left hand and calibrating it to a lightning-element array.

Cindira was already on the bed, eyes wide with anticipation. *What’s there to be excited about? Do you enjoy being electrocuted? Have some shame, girl! If you won’t, I will!*

I shook off the distracting thoughts and focused on gathering lightning mana. After Monaluna’s brutal lesson, I’d grown fascinated by battle aura—distinct from elemental energy yet mysteriously linked. My theory? Battle aura was simply elemental energy vibrating at an ultra-low frequency. Like ultrasound and infrasound: both sound waves, differing only in pitch. Mages sensed high-frequency energy; warriors, the low. Same essence, different names, methods, storage. Today, I’d prove it.

Palms flat, I drew lightning mana toward my hands. It thickened, swirling densely. I balanced its intensity and volume with precision. Clasping my palms, then slowly parting them—I sparked twin arcs between my fingers. They crackled, stabilized, thickening to thumb-width streams. Pouring out my mental energy, I spun them in opposite directions. Speed fluctuated; sweat beaded on my brow. Gradually, the rotation steadied into a mysterious rhythm. The air between my hands visibly warped. The energy field—finally formed.

Holding this fragile field, I approached the bed. Then—damn it all—*the angle was wrong!*

To resonate with Cindira’s shattered vortex, my hands needed perfect alignment on either side of it. Only then could the high-energy, low-rotation field sync with her dormant aura. But Cindira lay sideways. Leaning over the bed, I couldn’t guarantee precision—this demanded absolute accuracy. A hair’s breadth could mean life or death.

I couldn’t sustain the field much longer. All that effort—wasted! And where would I find such a perfect test subject again? Gritting my teeth, I swung a leg over the Purple Judas’s rounded thigh. *Perfect angle.*

*Breathe. It’s just a gorgeous thigh. My hard drive’s teachings flash before my eyes, Mashang—remember them!*

Beneath me, Cindira’s body trembled. The vibration nearly shattered my energy field. *Great. Angle’s right, but now it’s even deadlier!*

No time. I pressed the humming field toward her abdomen. As it neared, I felt a repulsive force from her core energy. *Good sign. No reaction would’ve been hopeless.* I fine-tuned the field’s intensity, finding the exact rotation, strength, and distance where resistance peaked. Within moments, my clothes were soaked with sweat.

The energy pulsed rhythmically. Chaos gave way to a clockwise vortex. Cindira’s face twisted in pain—forcing internal energy to spin was agony. But this initial torment was brief. Once her vortex matched the low-energy whirl’s speed, her battle aura would reignite. Renewed power would heal her body and soul. The radiant Purple Judas would bloom once more.

“Hold on, Cindira!” I urged. “It’ll hurt at first, but it’ll feel amazing after!”

She bit her lip, knuckles white on the bedsheets. Her body convulsed violently. Her skin flushed unnaturally; guttural moans escaped her throat.

I accelerated the vortex. Closer… closer to the critical speed. *Now!* I slammed the rotation to full power.

“Ahhhhhh—!” Cindira shrieked, eyes rolling back as she collapsed unconscious. I braced myself on the bed with my left hand, adjusting my glasses with the right. What little mental energy remained scanned her core.

A violet vortex spun slowly, elegantly. Battle aura drifted toward its center like moths to flame.

“Phew… Success. Damn, I’m good!” Pride swelled. My theory was *correct*. Next-gen Elemental Armor could integrate battle aura systems—perfect for physical enhancement! What to name it? *Ah!* “Assault Zaku”!

*Bang!* The door burst open. “Klath?! Klath, are you alright? We’ve come to save you!”

Monaluna stood in the doorway, Wingside Breeze in hand, clad in light armor. Behind her loomed the Old Mage and members of the Gentleman’s Advance Association.

……

An eerie silence fell. Every face—preternaturally synchronized—stared blankly at the scene: me straddling the unconscious purple-haired girl on the bed.

The room held one bed. One exhausted, sweat-drenched boy. One girl with her tongue lolled out, eyes rolled white. The torn bedsheets mirrored my shattered reputation—irreparable.

“No! It’s not what you think!” I wailed in despair. *Is there a Yellow River here? I’ll jump! My pants are still on!*

“You… disgusting creep!” Monaluna sobbed, fleeing the room.

“Oh ho ho! Youthful vigor! I understand, I understand~” the Old Mage chuckled.

“Master!” I sputtered. “With your mental prowess, couldn’t you sense what *actually* happened?”

“Of course I did! Who do you think held these youngsters back? Imagine if we’d entered a moment sooner—what then? Boy, when lives hang in the balance, *set a barrier*!”

His words froze my blood. A single interruption could’ve killed us both. My recklessness had nearly cost everything.

“Then explain to Monaluna!” I groaned heavenward.

“Hmph. Let Nana taste life’s bitter truths,” the Old Mage mused, tilting his head up at a 45-degree angle toward the ceiling.

*Sigh.* They guarded against me like a thief. Trust my taste, Master! I prefer tall, leggy, beautiful older sisters! Fourteen-year-old Monaluna? Way outside my hunting grounds… *Even if I’m only fourteen myself.*

“What are you gawking at?” I barked at the wide-eyed boys by the door. “Remember your gentlemanly conduct! Attention! About-face! March!”

“Yes, Guildmaster!” They obeyed instantly, turning and shuffling away—though “march” clearly baffled them.

I sighed, utterly drained.

“So… you saved her.”

“You know her?”

“Foolish question. Her father brought her here years ago. He paid his respects to me.”

Naturally. Even the War God’s heir bowed to the Old Mage on his turf—especially when the current War God hadn’t yet reached Legendary rank.

I approached the bed. Cindira’s hair shimmered back to vibrant purple. I pulled the blanket over her.

“Softening, boy?” The Old Mage’s eyes twinkled.

“Poor child. She blames herself for her recklessness, unaware she’s a pawn in political games.”

“Her father wished her to live out her days here. The War God’s troubles run deep—he can barely protect his own daughter now.”

I gently closed Cindira’s eyelids, tucking her tongue back in. Her face, finally peaceful. *Legends say the Purple Judas never wilts. Never fades. Never surrenders. What awaits you now? And what choice will you make?*