The following day.

  From early morning, Seraphim paced back and forth in front of the manor’s entrance, waiting for Isarufe’s arrival.

  He had sent subordinates to handle the persuasion of Verglies, choosing to wait at the manor himself. That was how much Mina and the device occupied his mind.

  Seraphim looked up at the sky.

  “Isarufe… why isn’t he here yet…”

  He continued to pace, but Isarufe did not appear even as the sun climbed high overhead.

  When a servant urged him to eat, Seraphim took a quick lunch and returned to his post at the entrance. Still, even as the sun began to tilt westward, Isarufe did not come.

  At a time like this, Batanel would have sent telepathic updates along the way — but Isarufe, a non-combat type, had no such consideration for others.

  “That Isarufe… perhaps I should reach out and give him a piece of my mind…”

  He considered it, but found himself hesitating. It felt wrong to shout at the man who had delivered Mina and the device into his hands.

  Seraphim let out a long sigh.

  “Nothing for it… I suppose I’ll keep waiting.”

  He made his way around to the back of the manor and headed for a small gazebo perched on a rise.

  It sat atop a gentle grass-covered hill, and from there one could look down upon the world below.

  The place known as the Celestial Realm was a floating island suspended some two thousand five hundred meters above the earth. Gazing downward from that height, the nearest town — Zenith — looked like a miniature scale model.

  Beyond a forest that spread like rumpled green cloth lay a patchwork of farmland. Further still, a miniature townscape appeared, and at its center rose a cathedral, taller than anything around it.

  The Zenith Cathedral.

  Its roofline was sharp and angular, thrusting toward the heavens in clean straight lines, gleaming white in the light, its shadow falling long and narrow across the ground below — like the needle of some great sundial driven into the earth.

  Seraphim gazed upon that view and let it quiet the irritation gnawing at him.

  But patience had its limits, and as the sky began to dim, that patience ran dry.

  When the sun dipped low and the sky flushed orange, even Seraphim’s composure finally broke. He had sent his own subordinates to handle Verglies just so he could be here waiting — and this was how his time had been spent.

  At last, he reached out to Isarufe by telepathy.

  “Isarufe — where are you? It’s nearly evening. When exactly do you plan to arrive… What’s that? You’ve been held up by the gatekeepers? Which fool is responsible for this!”

  Seraphim immediately called the gate manager through the link and unleashed a torrent of furious words. The anger meant for Isarufe found a new target.

  The manager, thoroughly dressed down, released Isarufe’s party at once — but by the time the long, agonizing wait was over, Isarufe arrived at the manor with the sun poised on the very edge of the horizon.

  Seraphim looked up. Leading the approach was Isarufe, and behind him followed a box-shaped carriage, flanked by three guards.

  At the sight of them, tears welled unbidden in Seraphim’s eyes. He had been thinking of Batanel and Canconel.

  “Ah… all the hardship of this past month… it finally feels as though it was worth something.”

  Ahead of him lay the work of inspecting the device seized from Mina, then restoring the magical energy collection system at the island’s core. But all of that could wait a moment longer. From above, Isarufe descended through the air and alighted before him.

  “Lord Seraphim… I apologize for the wait.”

  “Ah, I’ve been expecting you, Isarufe…!”

  Seraphim reached out and clasped Isarufe’s hands in both of his own. It was the first time he had ever done such a thing. Even Isarufe was quietly surprised.

  “Isarufe… so where is Mina?”

  Isarufe turned and looked back at the box-shaped carriage — a Celestial Realm special, one of the floating aerial vehicles.

  “Inside that box… I’ll bring her out.”

  He stepped to the carriage and opened its door, dragging Mina out by the magic collar fastened around her neck. The moment Seraphim saw her, his smile vanished — replaced by a slow, cruel twist of the lips.

  “Well then, how does it feel, Mina… Is that collar cold against your skin?”

  Mina met his gaze without flinching.

  “I haven’t done anything wrong, and yet here I am in chains. How do you think it feels?”

  Seraphim opened his mouth in a wide, tooth-baring grin.

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  “Still as insolent as ever. But enjoy it while it lasts. You won’t be able to endure what comes next. You’ll be on your knees, weeping and begging, before long.”

  He walked toward her, and with the tip of one finger, tilted her chin upward.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful not to kill you too quickly — not the way I did your parents. I even had special equipment prepared. Human-use torture instruments, made to order.”

  Even Isarufe, standing just beside him, couldn’t quite suppress a grimace.

  “Lord Seraphim… if I may, before that…”

  Isarufe reached into his coat and produced a metallic triangular device, holding it out toward Seraphim. Seraphim’s eyes lit up at once.

  “Oh… so this is it…”

  Isarufe nodded.

  “This device is far more important than any little girl…”

  Seraphim’s expression softened into something almost warm as he reached out.

  “So this is the device!”

  As he extended both hands to receive it, Isarufe set it carefully onto his open palms.

  Seraphim’s eyes gleamed, fixed upon the object with absolute attention.

  At that instant, Isarufe seized both of Seraphim’s wrists in a firm, two-handed grip. Seraphim’s head snapped up — and he stared at Isarufe with an expression of pure shock.

  “Lord Seraphim — brace yourself!”

  On Isarufe’s command, white threads shot from his arms and wrapped themselves around Seraphim’s body.

  “Gngh — Isarufe! You—!”

  At the same moment the threads coiled tight, a cat-eared girl burst out from the shadow at Mina’s feet.

  In her hands, a magic pistol gleamed with dark light.

  “You’re Mina’s familiar!”

  Seraphim twisted desperately to break free at the sight of Nox, but Isarufe’s threads held him fast.

  The cat-eared girl was, of course, Nox.

  She vaulted into the air and unloaded shot after shot of Shadow Reaver into Seraphim’s body. Dark tentacles of shadow magic coiled around him, layer upon layer.

  “Aaagh — you’ve betrayed me, Isarufe!”

  When Nox’s binding had taken firm hold, Isarufe severed his threads and leapt back.

  “Lord Seraphim! We can have a proper conversation later — at leisure!”

  Seraphim thrashed and strained against the restraints, but Nox kept wrapping him with relentless tenacity. Before long, every part of him below the neck was buried beneath a writhing mass of black — he looked less like a man than a lump of dark rubber.

  Seraphim turned his face to the side and roared.

  “You — guards! Help me!”

  One of the guards looked back at him with a blank expression, then pointed at himself.

  “Guards? You mean us?”

  And then all three removed their disguises.

  Seraphim’s jaw dropped. The three he had taken for guards were Queen Lilisia, Verglies, and Arc. He was left utterly speechless.

  “Verglies?! You… why are you here?!”

  While Seraphim reeled in disbelief, Arc launched himself upward and brought the magic sword Darkness Reave sweeping down toward his head. The halo above Seraphim automatically moved to defend — but the ring was shattered clean in two by the blade.

  Seraphim watched his halo explode into fragments, his mouth hanging open wide enough that every wrinkle in his face seemed to smooth away.

  “Im-impossible! My ring…!”

  Arc landed and flashed a grin.

  “This sword can cut straight through light-attribute magic.”

  Seraphim stared at the blade in Arc’s grip, his face going pale.

  “That sword… that’s Lilia’s magic sword!”

  Before he could say another word, a magic collar was snapped around his neck. Without him noticing, Lilisia had approached from behind — after removing the collar from Mina.

  “Now you can’t use magic either!”

  Seraphim shot her a burning glare.

  “You dare put that thing on me—!”

  He ground his teeth in helpless fury. Mina, rubbing her own neck, walked calmly toward him.

  “…Could you tell me whether the collar feels cold?”

  She said it with a quiet smile. Seraphim snarled, baring his teeth.

  “You insolent little brat! You came here to mock me!”

  Mina reached into her pocket and produced a square metal device.

  “Seraphim… this is the real device. The one that absorbs magical energy. The root of all this conflict…”

  Seraphim’s eyes fixed on it with a burning stare.

  “What do you intend to do with that?! Drain me of every last drop of my power?!”

  He threw his head back and laughed — loud, defiant.

  “Go on then — do it! Avenge your parents! If that’s what it takes to satisfy you!”

  He snapped his gaze back to Mina, eyes blazing.????????????????