The 180,000 magic stones were almost consumed in an instant.
But this upgrade—without question—was worth every single one.
The King's Treasury was no ordinary vault.
It was a boundless trove of sacred relics, brimming with countless treasures—each with its own legend and power.
In other words, a Noble Phantasm repository that could rival even the gods.
Black ripples spread through the air as Yami Tsukishiro reached into the shimmering void and drew forth a radiant object.
A golden and blue scabbard appeared in his hand, its surface etched with holy runes that pulsed softly with light.
"Shion, I'll leave this sword to you," Yami said, his tone calm yet commanding.
"...A sword?"
Shion blinked, then gently unsheathed it. The moment she did, blinding light burst forth—pure, divine, overwhelming.
At that instant, she felt knowledge and power surge through her body, resonating with something deep within her soul.
Her lips parted unconsciously.
"Sword of the Oath of Victory..."
Clang!
The golden blade sang in her hands.
It was the Sword of Promised Victory — Excalibur.
And the scabbard that had guarded it for eons…
was the legendary Avalon, the "Distant Utopia" — a paradise of eternal protection.
The same sacred relic once wielded by Artoria Pendragon, the King of Knights.
Now, that very Noble Phantasm belonged to Shion.
Fitting, perhaps—since she bore the title of Lion King.
But Yami didn't stop there.
Since Shion had received her weapon, it was only fair that Kaen received hers as well.
He reached once more into the golden rift, and another treasure emerged—this one shining with platinum light.
"Kaen, this one suits you."
He handed the spear to her. Its tip glowed with divine radiance, its shaft engraved with elegant geometric lines that hummed faintly with power.
"This is the Sacred Spear of Radiant End — Rhongomyniad," Yami explained, smiling faintly.
"The spear that anchors the world and discerns the hearts of mankind.
You, too… understand people's hearts all too well, don't you?"
Kaen smiled softly. "Thank you, Master."
Both Shion and Kaen could barely tear their eyes away from the Noble Phantasms in their hands.
These weren't simple imitations. The Treasury's relics were forged through Yami's own Source Energy—the primal force behind all life and existence.
Source Energy could manifest in countless forms—magic, mana, ki, even fighting spirit.
Every form of life drew upon it, knowingly or not.
And when Yami wove it into creation, the result was identical in power to the original—if not stronger.
Moreover, the weapons themselves radiated a mysterious resonance—an unknown energy that felt almost alive, as if welcoming their new wielders.
As for Ella, she had no suitable Noble Phantasm at the moment.
Not that she minded. Her own strength, after all, already stood far beyond what such treasures could offer.
Still, watching the two of them wield those divine weapons, she couldn't help but smile faintly.
--
--
Reality
Utaha Kasumigaoka lay sprawled on the sofa in hot pants, her long legs crossed lazily as she stared blankly at the glowing screen of her laptop. Her expression was a cocktail of boredom and mild melancholy.
"Waaah!"
She nearly jumped out of her skin when a large hand suddenly landed on her thigh.
Utaha whipped around in shock—only to find Yami Tsukishiro standing there, looking utterly unbothered.
Her cheeks puffed in irritation as she glared at him.
"Would it kill you to say something when you come back?! You scared me half to death!"
Yami smirked, leaning casually over the sofa.
"Who told you to wear something that short? I thought it was a trap."
The teasing tone—and the pressure of his hand—made her ears turn pink.
"...Pervert," she muttered, swatting at him before crossing her arms.
"Anyway, where's Aunt Sayuri? I didn't see her." Yami asked as he looked around.
"Eriri's out of commission," Utaha sighed dramatically. "Aunt Sayuri's helping her take a bath."
"Out of commission?" Yami tilted his head.
Utaha pointed lazily toward the bathroom. "Mm-hmm. Our golden retriever couldn't even walk straight. She looked like she'd cry for her mom any second."
Her lips curved into a wicked smile as she remembered.
"She couldn't even get on the bed by herself—kept whining that it hurt too much. Sayuri and I had to carry her to the bathroom. The look on Sayuri's face when she realized what was going on…"
Utaha snorted. "She panicked so much she called Eriri a 'stupid mutt'."
She chuckled quietly to herself at the memory—completely forgetting that she herself had been gasping in pain the night before.
Yami pinched her nose lightly. "Jealous?"
"Jealous? Of a golden retriever?" Utaha scoffed, tilting her chin up proudly. "Please. I was your first, Yami-kun. That makes me the winner."
Yami raised an eyebrow. "It was Ella's first time."
"…"
Utaha froze.
Ella...?
Her eyes went wide. That meant…
"So I'm… second?" she whispered, her pride cracking like glass.
No, wait— Yami had been far too smooth, too experienced. That could only mean he'd done it with Ella more than once.
Her jaw tightened. Damn it… I'm the loser!
"Yami Tsukishiro-san," she said, her voice trembling with dramatic indignation, "are you seriously not even going to lie to make me feel better?"
She clapped her hands together in frustration, then suddenly leaned forward, grabbing him by the shoulders. Her expression turned fiery, determined, and just a little mischievous.
"Fine then," she declared. "You're going to make it up to me."
Yami smiled faintly. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
Utaha's crimson eyes gleamed as she whispered with a teasing lilt,
"A world of just the two of us."
--
The so-called "world of two" turned out to be…
a nearly deserted amusement park.
Because of the lingering fear of evil spirits, most people avoided traveling during the day.
But the park still opened for business—after all, even ghosts couldn't stop capitalism.
The lack of visitors, however, was perfect for the two of them.
No lines. No noise. No awkward crowds.
Just the soft hum of machines, the scent of popcorn, and the occasional creak of a ride swaying in the wind.
For Yami Tsukishiro and Utaha Kasumigaoka, it really did feel like a private world.
They went through everything—carousel, pendulum, pirate ship, roller coaster—each one more ridiculous than the last.
And yet, something kept bothering Yami.
Every time they finished a ride, Utaha would immediately pull out her phone and start typing at lightning speed.
"…Utaha," Yami said flatly, watching her thumbs move across the screen, "didn't you say this was supposed to be a romantic date? What the hell are you doing?"
The Ferris wheel climbed slowly into the sky, the sunset painting the city in shades of orange.
Utaha leaned against his shoulder, still tapping away at her phone as if she hadn't heard a word.
"Dating is one part of it," she said matter-of-factly. "But my novel's been lacking inspiration lately. I'm just… gathering some emotional data."
Yami sighed. "You're literally mining me for content."
Utaha smiled faintly, eyes still fixed on her screen. "That's called artistic dedication."
"I call it emotional fraud," Yami muttered, his tone dropping an octave.
A dark ripple spread beneath his feet, shadows slowly crawling up the Ferris wheel cabin walls until they covered the glass entirely.
"...What are you doing?"
Utaha blinked, finally setting down her phone as she noticed the sudden darkness.
The playful grin on Yami's face made her stomach twist in anticipation.
"I feel," he said quietly, "that I deserve compensation for this betrayal of feelings."
"Wait—hey!"
Before she could react, Yami plucked the phone from her hand and tossed it aside.
It landed on the seat with a soft thud.
In the next second, the entire compartment was swallowed by darkness.
Only their shallow breaths and the faint creak of the Ferris wheel filled the air.
The world outside vanished
...and only the two of them remained.
"No—wait, Yami-kun, not my favorite dress—!"
Her voice trembled between laughter and surprise.
"H-Hey… don't be so rough…" she gasped softly as the Ferris wheel swayed.
The sound of hurried movement filled the cabin.
Clap… clap… clap…
"Ahhhngh~"
"Y-Yami-kun… slow down… I'm not going anywhere…"
Her breath hitched, her voice melting into the rhythm of this dark place.
--
"Stare~"
After leaving the amusement park, Yami and Utaha stopped by a restaurant inside a nearby shopping mall.
As soon as they sat down, Utaha started glaring at him.
"...Staring at me won't make the food eat itself," Yami said, casually sliding a plate toward her. "It's delicious. Try it."
"You…"
Utaha puffed out her cheeks, clearly upset.
If Yami hadn't ruined her clothes earlier, she wouldn't have had to change into this spare outfit.
What was supposed to be a cute, romantic date had turned into something far less innocent—especially that Ferris wheel incident.
It was… way too much!
"Don't be mad," Yami said, his lips curving slightly. "Next time we go, I'll let you ride a horse."
"W–Who wants to ride a horse?!"
Utaha's face flushed instantly. His teasing always left her defenseless.
That sharp tongue of hers was useless against him.
"Ah~"
Utaha suddenly leaned forward and opened her mouth, pretending to be annoyed—but it was obvious what she wanted.
Like a spoiled pet waiting to be fed.
Without thinking much of it, Yami picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks and slowly held it up to her lips.
"Here."
"Mmm~"
Utaha chewed happily, eyes narrowing in satisfaction. The expression on her face was almost too adorable to look at directly.
Yami, however, just sighed inwardly.
She'd been so bold and assertive on the Ferris wheel, but the moment they stepped off… it was like she became a different person.
Women really were a mystery.
As they were eating, two people entered the restaurant, whispering nervously to each other.
"Did you hear? There's some psycho out there in the square."
"Yeah, something about worshiping an evil god or whatever. Crazy stuff."
Yami and Utaha both looked up.
"Believing in evil gods?" Utaha repeated, eyes widening. "That's insane. Isn't that illegal?"
She shook her head in disbelief.
People doing something like that out in the open—it had to be madness.
Yami, however, grew thoughtful.
Lately, rumors about "evil god believers" had been spreading online.
Most were taken down quickly, but every now and then, strange groups like this resurfaced.
Given how chaotic the world had become, it wasn't entirely surprising… but still disturbing.
Then, from outside the restaurant, a man's crazed voice echoed through the glass.
"Those who believe in the Evil God must sacrifice everything! Only through sacrifice can we receive divine blessings!"
The entire restaurant turned toward the sound.
Outside, two figures dressed in ragged, cult-like robes were carrying a large box splattered with red paint.
They stopped right in the middle of the street, drawing uncomfortable stares from pedestrians.
Yami's eyes narrowed. "Take the suitcase and surrender yourself."
The two cultists froze.
For a moment, the street went silent.
Then, as if controlled by unseen strings, they quietly picked the box back up and walked away without another word—
their earlier fanatic energy completely gone.
The onlookers murmured, confused, but no one followed.
Utaha turned to him, her voice low.
"...Yami-kun, what did you just do?"
She had definitely heard him whisper something and the moment he did, those two had obeyed without hesitation.
Yami Tsukishiro said casually, "It's nothing. They had bombs in the box."
"E-Explosives… a bomb?!"
Utaha froze, eyes wide. "Isn't that dangerous?!"
"They were dangerous," Yami replied calmly. "Cult terrorists. So I simply ordered them to surrender."
"Eh? Why would they listen to you so easily?"
"Command." Yami said with a faint smile. "Let's call it… one of my abilities. For example—"
He turned his gaze toward Utaha, thinking for a moment.
"Utaha, say 'Master, Utaha loves you' in a playful voice. Go on—listen."
"Master, Utaha loves you."
Utaha spoke the words automatically, her tone light and sweet—then instantly clamped her hands over her mouth.
"W-Wait! What just happened to me?!"
Her mind went blank. There was no way she would ever say something like that of her own will, especially not in that tone.
Just remembering it made her whole body shiver with embarrassment.
Yami chuckled. "I ordered you to do it, so you did. You were pretty cute just now. Want to go home and try it again?"
"N-No! Absolutely not!"
Utaha crossed her arms like an X in front of her chest, cheeks burning. "Yami-kun, please don't use that ability on me again!"
"Relax. I don't make a habit of controlling my girlfriend's body," Yami said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders reassuringly—then added with a teasing grin, "Though… if it's just your hands, I wouldn't mind. Might even make you feel better."
"!!!"
Utaha had just been touched by his sincerity a second ago—only for him to ruin it instantly.
Yami Tsukishiro really did have a talent for saying the most outrageous things at the worst possible time.
Meanwhile, at the Law Enforcement Bureau, the officers were exhausted.
"Man, everything's gone crazy lately. The whole world's in chaos," one sighed.
"Tell me about it," another muttered. "Now even a lost cat gets reported as a possible evil spirit case."
Just as he said that—
"We want to surrender!!!"
Everyone turned toward the entrance. Two people in ragged cult robes stood there, each carrying a heavy box smeared with red paint.
The entire station went silent.
A senior officer blinked. "...What exactly are you surrendering for?"
"Report!" one of the cultists shouted formally. "We were spreading the teachings of the Evil God and attempting to use bombs in the shopping mall to lead the people toward His blessing!"
"B-Bombs?!"
In an instant, every officer in the room jumped to their feet.
Guns were drawn; safety catches clicked.
"Put the boxes down! Get on the ground, now, or we'll open fire!"
Sweat ran down the younger officers' faces as tension filled the room.
But instead of resisting, the two cultists straightened their posture and shouted in unison,
"Yes, sir!"
They carefully set the boxes on the floor, then dropped flat on their stomachs like obedient soldiers.
The room went dead silent for two seconds—then erupted into motion.
Officers rushed forward, restrained the suspects, and snapped cuffs onto their wrists.
"Bomb squad, move! Now!"
Everyone finally exhaled in relief.
But as the controlled cultists looked around the room in confusion, their expressions changed from zeal to complete bewilderment.
"W-Wait… who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?"
They had no memory of what just happened.
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