Spatial Arcana was universally acknowledged as something more wondrous than ordinary elemental Arcana—more complex, more unpredictable, and endlessly variable.
And Shadow Arcana, a twisted branch of Spatial Arcana, was something only the Weave's favored—chosen geniuses—could ever hope to grasp.
Shadow Queen Mordiana was, in this past century, the genius among geniuses of shadow magic.
So it wasn't surprising at all that she'd been taken in as a new "Ring-bearer."
Facing her spell, the singularity, and her legion, everyone had already steeled themselves—ready to die if that was what it took for the rest to live.
So when Linen said he alone would face the Mana Spirit calamity, what people felt wasn't relief at escaping death.
It was worry.
Only after that lone figure plunged into the enemy ranks did they finally understand what Linen truly meant when he said he wasn't fighting alone.
"Lily—draw your sword!"
"I've been ready."
At Linen's low shout, the brand on his right hand flared. The Heroic Spirit—already coiled to strike—burst into existence from the void, raising her longsword high. A roaring gale of wind tore through her golden bangs, briefly revealing delicate brows and eyes made entirely of light.
The blade hidden in the wind braided with the power of three gods in her grip, forging a sky-piercing pillar of radiance—
And it came down in a single, thunderous cut!
Mad Mana Spirits evaporated in sheets. Even creatures that did not fear death recoiled, stunned by that light.
That sword—the one that had won Zijinghua victory countless times—shone again, carving a path through the tide, if only for a moment!
...
"Damn it—damn it—holy fucking light! That bastard's trump card is actually a primordial heroic spirit!"
Father Moden hopped in place, practically dancing with excitement, and drove an elbow hard into Father Anel's chest.
Father Eris shot him a sidelong look.
"Then why the hell are you calling it 'holy light' instead of 'moon goddess'?"
"Because I worship the Moon Goddess," Moden said righteously.
"Sorry, but… what's a primordial heroic spirit? Are there different kinds?" Elena asked, still shaken as she came back to herself.
Among everyone present, only she and Princess Hysteria knew that after the Holy Trial, Linen had received a Heroic Spirit Blessing.
But the girl in the rumors—so different from the "peerless and valiant" heroic spirits people imagined—had been mocked by many sour-tongued nobles as "a weak god's maid." Elena hadn't believed the gossip from the start, yet the sheer majesty of that single sword still left her awestruck.
Eden Academy's library held everything under the sun. Elena had studied the concept of "heroic spirits" during self-study, but "primordial heroic spirit" was a phrase she'd never heard before.
"My beautiful young lady, it seems you still have much to learn," Moden said, delighted. "Though that's only natural. Heroic spirits are obscure and rare—so rare even the gods are stingy about them. Most academies don't teach this."
"A heroic spirit is the shadow of a hero who left their name in history—someone whose deeds became epics and legends across the continent. Earn their recognition and blessing, and you can recreate miracles from those old tales."
"According to church records, there are two ways heroic spirits are born. The first is after a hero dies: the gods take pity on their story, and from divine grace a heroic spirit is formed—one bestowed by the gods. Those favored existences are said to be permitted to feast and fight and revel without end in the divine realms above. And when a god-bestowed heroic spirit blesses the living, it's usually because the god is paying attention."
"And by the way—" Moden winked. "As the one who holds authority over 'guidance' and 'leading the departed,' the Moon Goddess has the most heroic spirits of all! If my beautiful young lady would just believe in the Moon Goddess, who knows—perhaps Her venerable self would assign you a heroic spirit guardian too!"
Elena began to wave her hands in flustered refusal—
But Novie suddenly reached out from the side, signaling Elena not to speak. Then the girl in uniform looked down on Moden like a tyrant, her expression nothing like the one she wore around Linen. Her voice was so cold it could frost over.
"Stop talking in riddles—or get the hell out of Zijinghua."
Moden made an expression of bliss, as if he'd been stabbed straight through the heart.
"N-no—Your Highness Novie! Sorry! But this is an important part of answering Miss Elena's question!"
"If a heroic spirit is born from divine favor and appreciation, that's a god-bestowed heroic spirit. Naturally, there are also heroic spirits that don't need a god's approval at all—those born solely from their own legends and deeds. Those are called 'primordial heroic spirits.' And compared to the first kind… they're rarer still. Truly one-in-a-million."
Father Eris nodded as well, his tone grave.
"And we must admit that while primordial heroic spirits are rarer, they are also purer…"
"Because a god's grace is both blessing… and burden."
"Burden?" Elena asked, bewildered. A god's favor was something people would fight and claw for—how could it be a burden?
"A person chosen by the moon can never again see sunlight," Eris said.
"A god-bestowed heroic spirit receives love—and must repay it. They must abandon the powers their god detests. For most heroic spirits, that is both restraint and shackle. That's why most god-bestowed heroic spirits, no matter how compatible they are with their patron, are universally acknowledged to be weaker than they were in life."
"But primordial heroic spirits have no such burden."
Eris stared at that sword of three gods' power—its radiance cleaving through the entire tide—and spoke with meaning in his eyes.
"Only a prince so irreverent could bear the blessing of a heroic spirit so irreverent."
To those two—Linen and the heroic spirit who blessed him—gods and divine power were simply useful tools. Using the power of three righteous gods at once didn't weigh on them in the slightest. It left a sour taste in Eris's mouth.
"Still, something's strange," Moden muttered, rubbing his chin.
"According to the Church's records, Zijinghua's lack of fixed faith means there are practically no god-bestowed heroic spirits here. As for primordial heroic spirits… the most qualified one should be that founding sovereign blessed by the Holy Light Dragon."
"But that one should be a man. So the origin of this gallant female heroic spirit is… intriguing."
"Who knows," Eris huffed, beard bristling. "Maybe she just happened to be wandering through, and she's another bastard heroic spirit who got attracted to that bastard prince!"
Eris clearly cared that Linen's heroic spirit was just as irreverent as he was. Still, since Lily could harmonize and use the divine power of three orthodox gods without friction, she was likely a heroic spirit on the side of order—so he didn't press further.
Novie, however, cared for a different reason.
The swordsmanship. The bearing.
Something about how that heroic spirit moved felt… oddly familiar.
Just then, Novie felt a light tap against her arm. She turned to find Elena smiling at her.
"Your Highness Novie—thank you, just now."
Novie accepted the thanks without expression, replying with cool indifference.
"It's nothing. Brother likes you, so helping you is only a small favor from me. If you want to thank someone, thank Brother. If you wash up and climb into his bed to help him continue House Norton's bloodline, that'll be the greatest repayment to me."
"Ahaha… as expected of His Highness Linen's clan-sister. Your Highness Novie, you really do have his sense of humor," Elena said awkwardly, trying to read Novie's face—
Only to find Novie still dead serious, not joking in the slightest.
After all, the last time she suggested Elena "recommend herself" to Linen, she'd crushed a brick wall with her bare hand…
"Your Highness Novie… you're joking, right…?" Elena's temple started to sweat.
"I'm stating a fact. My bond with Brother isn't something outsiders like you can compare to. I can tell what he likes and hates at a glance. I'd do anything for Onii-chan."
"As for you—if you can't even accept that, then in my eyes, you're nothing special."
Open contempt gleamed in Novie's eyes. Then she gave a chilly laugh.
"And later, you can help Onii-chan push from behind. I doubt he'll mind."
Elena's smile began to twist.
As expected… even her verbal attacks carry his style…
At that moment, Hysteria—who already didn't like Novie much—finally couldn't stand watching her friend get humiliated and snapped back.
"Hey! Ellie just wanted to thank you! And you're demanding three things in exchange for a single sentence—don't you think that's way too much?"
"Three things?" Novie frowned slightly.
"Yeah!" Hysteria said. "Push from behind, continue the bloodline, and… and… wash-clean-and-climb-into-bed—that's three things! What are you all looking at me like that for?!"
By the time she got to the last one, the princess's pretty cheeks had flushed deep red. Clearly she wasn't completely ignorant—and that reaction only made the silence heavier.
Elena asked, "Ria… do you know how you were born?"
"Of course I do!" Hysteria declared proudly.
"Auntie in the palace said I was born from the pistil of a magma flower and a flame blossom! That's why this princess is the most talented genius Fire Arcana Mage in the world!"
The silence deepened.
Even the priests—meeting Hysteria for the first time—found themselves thinking that with this princess… that kind of understanding actually made perfect sense.
The palace maids trying to teach her not to sleep around must've had a hell of a job…
"And besides!" Hysteria glared at Novie. "You talk like you know that small fry so well. I don't buy it!"
"Oh?" Novie's gaze flicked to Hysteria.
Normally, she couldn't be bothered with mockery or humiliation. But when it involved Onii-chan, she wouldn't give an inch.
"Unless…" Hysteria's eyes spun. She turned her head away, face burning with an unnatural blush. "…you tell me what he thinks of this princess!"
Silence again.
Mostly because Hysteria's abacus beads had just flown off her face and smacked everyone in the eyes.
But one person was deadly serious.
Novie.
Anything involving Linen—no matter how strange—she wouldn't treat as a joke.
So she stared hard at Hysteria, slowly appraising the foreign princess from an allied empire—one as powerful as Zijinghua.
Then the uniformed girl—who'd just been so heartbroken at the thought of "paying" Elena back by offering her to Linen that she'd crushed a section of wall—
Suddenly curled her lip and laughed with open disdain.
"Pfft."
"What the hell is that face?! I'll kill you, you small-fry's sister!"
"Ria, calm down, calm down!"
Hysteria erupted, but the tension on the castle wall eased a little.
And Linen's performance made people who'd been near despair suddenly feel that the insane plan… might actually work.
Then Father Anel, who hadn't spoken, said quietly,
"The light… has gone out."
Everyone's heart tightened. They turned their eyes beyond the barrier.
The figure who'd charged alone into the Mana Spirit calamity was still safe—more than that, using the hollow corridor carved by that light-sword—more like a light-cannon—he had driven deep into the tide. He was already very close to the singularity.
But the heroic spirit's slash—its cutting, its extension, its relentless reach—
Had finally met its limit.
...
"Ha! That felt good." Lily—her golden radiance much dimmer now—let out a heavy breath, clearly satisfied with the result of her first burst of support for Linen.
Linen, however, frowned.
"Only ten or twenty percent? So it really is a bit forced."
Against other enemies, Lily's first slash would never have looked like that. Both the Holy Light Dragon's purification and the power of three righteous gods had an overwhelming attribute advantage against Mana Spirits born of the Shadow Realm—each hit was practically a guaranteed critical.
But if it had been any other enemy, that same slash would've been enough to break a disciplined army's morale on the spot.
Mana Spirits wouldn't break.
Compared to their own eternal pain, the deaths of companions, the torn earth, the burn of severed limbs—none of it mattered. They simply filled the gaps left by vaporized bodies, mindlessly trying to soothe their agony by devouring flesh.
"Tch. Nasty little things." Lily's voice sharpened as the Mana Spirits began to close in again. "Hey, Linen—hurry up and give me the rest of the divine power. You still have some, right?"
She wasn't truly worried. That earlier slash had only consumed a small portion of what the three Cardinals had poured into Linen—less than half of it absorbed by Lily.
Most of the divine grace and blessings were still inside Linen.
"No." Linen refused instantly. "That divine power has other uses. And that last slash was already risky. If we do it again, Mordiana might start paying attention."
"Hmph. If I were in my true body, a mere sorceress who only knows how to drive others to die would fall to a single swing…" Lily snapped, clearly annoyed—because she knew Linen was right.
One explosive burst—Mordiana wouldn't care, or she wouldn't bother.
But if every strike detonated in holy radiance, if every sword-swing carried flowing divine grace, then Mordiana would have to notice—even if she were blind—that a piece far too bright had appeared on the board where she was playing chess with the Red Dragon.
"So what's your plan?" Lily demanded.
...
"Damn it—the Mana Spirits are regrouping!"
On the wall, everyone cried out.
The Mana Spirit calamity was nearly swallowing Linen whole now. Even the heroic spirit girl's light was starting to blur.
"He's only digging his own grave," Novie said coldly.
"Why are you so heartless? That's your brother! That small fry is fighting for all of us!" Hysteria protested.
"Heartless? Ha." Novie glanced at Hysteria, then looked faintly enlightened.
"In your 'traditional impression,' Arcana Mages are still that soft class that can only cry and beg once someone gets close, right?"
"That's why I keep saying it—your understanding of Linen is nowhere near enough!"
Elena instinctively looked at the girl in uniform. This was the same Novie who was usually known for her coldness and who hadn't shown the Cardinals any courtesy—yet now her face overflowed with pride, her eyes shining with a smile.
"I'll tell you this: the first—and only—swordsmanship teacher I've never beaten…"
"…was Onii-chan."
A surge of light erupted again in a small, concentrated burst. But this time, the one controlling that light and holy power wasn't the imposing heroic spirit girl—
It was Linen.
He held a two-handed sword formed of pure holy power.
The Mana Spirits that crashed in were instantly flipped away in neat rows beneath a tight net of sword-light.
In the middle of the tide, Linen was like a reef. He pushed forward—unyielding—while his brooch vibrated furiously and Teresia's excited commands rang out nonstop.
"Left—stab its head!"
"Two on your right-front—ignore them. The shadow is the real body."
"Haha! The idiot behind you—its mana core is wide open!"
A commander who understood these monsters better than anyone, with detection magic widening her view.
An executor who had overwhelming attribute advantage—and could follow orders perfectly.
Compared to Lily's first slash that nearly tore the sky, the light Linen produced was like a candle in the wind.
Yet that remaining flame burned steadily, inching closer—slowly, quietly—to the singularity in the sky…
Until, without a sound, it reached directly beneath it.
Linen suddenly hurled the massive golden greatsword upward. It spun into the air. The heroic spirit girl's battle skirt unfurled like a budding flower as she silently caught the hilt, sighting along the blade toward the pitch-black singularity that continued to ooze shadow-matter and Mana Spirits.
"Second slash."
The heroic spirit murmured. Divine power and holy light gathered—
And she cut.
This strike looked as if it meant to pierce the heavens.
A colossal, hideous claw suddenly braced itself out of the singularity and slapped down. In a scream of tearing agony, the claw was shredded into dust by the light—
But the slash, no longer as razor-sharp as before, was stopped by the black shroud around the singularity.
"Shit. That shadow sorceress noticed us!"
A curse flashed through the heroic spirit girl's mind.
The owner of that giant hand couldn't pass through the singularity, but its Tier-6 status was enough that, at the cost of one hand, it canceled most of Lily's strike.
That was the sovereign of this calamity. Shadow Queen Mordiana had noticed this unusual "rat," and prepared for it.
She wouldn't personally strike at someone so small.
But she could still punish these bugs that dared resist her.
That descending hand—appearing from nowhere—was a hunter's game, a cat's malice toward a mouse.
At the very instant you were about to succeed, she granted you the despair a foolish little rodent deserved for trying to resist.
I'm waiting for the moment you struggle to your limit. What are you waiting for?
A crushing frustration—like discovering the woman you loved and the knight you trusted had betrayed you—swallowed the falling heroic spirit girl.
Damn it… was it still a failure?
It was her carelessness. Her arrogance. Her blind faith in her own strength.
That giant-hand monster was not like the other Mana Spirits—it understood fear now. Lily's slash had made it hesitate; for a short time it wouldn't dare extend another hand.
If only there were one more chance to strike—one more attack comparable to that slash—then surely…
But there was no chance.
Even if they still had enough divine power, Lily herself couldn't unleash a third slash in such a short span.
That child had placed all hope in her, and she…
She'd let him down.
Zijinghua… had no hope.
Then, in the shared link between them, Linen's calm voice sounded.
"There is."
The falling heroic spirit girl saw Linen—who according to the plan should've had no strength left—spring lightly into the air beside her.
Mischief and triumph flashed in the boy's eyes.
This time, the mouse played the cat.
The prey toyed with the hunter.
This—was the moment Linen had been waiting for.
Remember it well, Mordiana.
My—no, our—struggle.
Inhale. Exhale. Cheeks puffing—
Scalding elemental turbulence gathered in the boy's mouth, colliding, compressing—
And at the very limit, it erupted as a raging torrent.
It was the most ordinary, most pure, and most iconic attack a dragon possessed:
"[DRAGONFIRE]!"
---
T/N: OUGHHHHHHH
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