The formation was like a living tornado.
The knight's expression shifted to one of genuine surprise. "Such mastery over magical control... Mother, you truly are one of the three legendary witches of your age."
The woman tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on the bird on her shoulder. "The credit belongs to this little one. He is... remarkably clever."
"It is the first time I have heard you offer such praise to a familiar."
From that point on, Wayland lost his sense of self.
The woman didn't grant him any special treatment despite his apparent differences. As she had stated, she was severing her ties with the past, casting aside the perceived weaknesses of her former character.
A familiar was, in the end, nothing more than a familiar.
Wayland and the murder of crows followed the woman across the landscape, a black tide that brought war, death, and ultimately, victory to every corner they touched.
With every battle, crows fell, only to be replaced by new recruits drawn to the Sovereign's call.
And then... he died.
Absolute darkness.
There was no light, no sound--he was trapped in the stagnant void between life and death.
Time seemed to have come to a complete halt.
['Master! Wake up!']
A familiar voice cut through the silence.
'Irigal...?'
Wayland's eyes snapped open, and he sat up with a start.
He stared at the cabin window for a moment, his breath hitching. "I'm back on the ship? What happened?"
['The resonance of the conch shell pulled you into a potent illusion,'] Irigal explained. ['Hishiri Adashino's team had to retrieve you from the seabed and bring you back here to the infirmary.']
"I... I feel like I just woke up from a century-long dream."
Wayland pressed a hand to his forehead, his memories of the experience already beginning to blur. "I was a crow... but the details are already starting to fade."
['By its very nature, an illusion is little more than a dream,'] Irigal said. ['This particular spell was cast over two thousand years ago. Its potency has faded significantly, making it easier for your mind to dismiss the details. That's likely why my intervention was successful. If this had been a fully manifested Age of Gods illusion from the height of its power... I might have had to pay a significant price to pull you out.']
'Thank you, Irigal.' Wayland offered a silent word of gratitude, but his attention was quickly drawn to the chaotic sounds coming from outside the cabin. 'What's going on out there?'
Irigal offered a brief summary of the earlier events--the department's attempt to analyze the recording and the subsequent crow attack. ['They were thorough in their preparations,'] she added, ['but they failed to account for a critical detail: the auditory range of a human and a crow are entirely different. The soundproof barrier they established only blocked the frequencies audible to the human ear. The crows, however, heard the call loud and clear.']
The scene outside was one of absolute carnage.
The glare of explosive rounds reflected off Wayland's face as he stepped onto the deck. The sky was filled with an agonizing shriek, and a fine mist of blood hung in the air, illuminated by the continuous flash of gunfire. Thousands of black crows were falling from the clouds like living arrows, colliding with the shimmering blue canopy of the Ocean Phantom's defensive barrier. The impact of their bodies rained down like a constant, gory storm against the magical shield.
The sight was hauntingly familiar.
Suddenly, Wayland felt a strange sensation--a phantom itch beneath his skin, as if his body were screaming for feathers to sprout once more, for his arms to become wings and carry him back into the sky.
He remembered it now. He had stood on that woman's shoulder as a crow, watching this exact scene play out countless times across a different Britain.
"Wayland?!"
Louis was standing a few meters from the cabin door, his arms crackling with arcs of white lightning from his shoulders to his palms. With every swing of his arms, a brilliant bolt of electricity shot forward like a high-intensity laser, piercing through the barrier to incinerate a crow in the swarm.
"I'll be damned! You actually managed to pull yourself out of that illusion? Did the spell finally just run its course, or what?"
Louis dissipated the charge in his hands and rushed over, clapping Wayland on the shoulder.
After the earlier emergency, Louis had sent the recording of the song to the professors in the Archaeology Department before joining Pascal on the deck to help repel the initial assault.
Wayland's thoughts felt as though they were arriving from a vast distance.
He offered a small, weary smile. "I'm not entirely sure myself. I suppose two thousand years is a long time for any spell to maintain its bite."
Naturally, he had no intention of revealing Irigal's involvement. It was a complication he wasn't ready to explain, so he would stick to the most plausible excuse.
"Don't dwell on it now. Since you're awake, help us out."
Louis pointed toward the shimmering canopy above. "Captain Adashino's orders are to use this Sixth-Rank ritual array as a defensive anchor while the anti-aircraft guns handle the main force. We're supposed to use our own magecraft to pick off the stragglers and whittle them down."
"There's no need for that," Wayland said calmly. "I have a better way."
"What?" Louis's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you telling me you have a way to handle a swarm of thirty thousand crows? This isn't a joke, junior. You're an 'Opening' ranked magus--what can you possibly do? One mistake and those birds will tear you to pieces before you can even finish a incantation."
"I know."
"Then what are you talking about?! This isn't the time to play the hero!"
"Because..."
Because he could understand the cacophony of the crows. He knew exactly what they were saying, and more importantly, why they were attacking.
Wayland looked up, his gaze locking onto the black tornado in the sky.
"For the Supreme Sovereign!"
"Maintain the formation!"
"Channel your energy! Strike like the flowing tide!"
"The greatest good is like water! Avoid the heavy fire, find the gaps!"
Wayland lowered his head and spoke with quiet confidence. "Don't worry, Louis. I know exactly what I'm doing."
"Hey! Don't do anything reckless!" Louis shouted, realizing Wayland was already heading toward the front of the bridge where Hishiri Adashino was directing the defense. With a frustrated growl, he hurried after him.
"Captain," Wayland called out.
"Wayland? How are you awake?"
Hishiri turned her head, her expression flashing with momentary surprise before returning to her usual composure. "It's too dangerous for you here. Go to Elena and help her maintain the ritual array."
"I have a plan to resolve the swarm, Captain. but I need you to order the cessation of the anti-aircraft fire."
Hishiri snapped her focus to him, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses. "Do you have any idea what you're asking? If we silence our primary firepower, the remaining two hundred magi will be completely overwhelmed by a swarm of this scale. They will crash against our barrier with the weight of thirty thousand bodies. Theoretically, the Ring of the Seven can withstand attacks from 'Pride' ranked magi and below, but we have no intention of testing that theory against a force of this magnitude. If it fails, we will be devoured in seconds."
Wayland took a deep breath. He didn't have absolute certainty, but he knew the nature of the call that had brought them here.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]