The road to the capital stretched endlessly before us, its stones bathed in the pale silver of the early morning. The carriage rattled softly behind me, the sound barely audible against the whispering wind. Inside, the girls slept soundly, their breathing steady, like the rhythm of peace itself. Kael and the others had gone ahead to fetch supplies. For now, everything was silent.

  And silence always drew me back to the past.

  The day I was born, the struggle began. My family, strict and unyielding, demanded success from me as if it were the very air I breathed. They wanted achievements, they wanted a perfect heir. But I wanted none of that. All I craved was a free life—a life where my choices mattered.

  Yet, freedom never came. Instead, it twisted into a curse.

  I was quiet, unfriendly, stubborn. My walls were high, and no one dared to climb them. My family’s pressure crushed me, and my own refusal to bend kept me isolated. I made no friends. The ones I did manage to find eventually vanished, as if fate itself rejected my attempts at connection.

  Then there was her. My first and only girlfriend. For a fleeting moment, I thought I had finally broken the curse—that maybe, just maybe, life was willing to show me a brighter side. But I was wrong. She was the very reason I died. The cruelest twist of all.

  What an unbelievable life.

  As I walked alongside the carriage, the memories clawed at me like ghosts. The silence around me felt heavy now, almost suffocating. Perhaps that’s why the free life I wished for never felt like freedom at all. It was nothing but a chain, dragging me further into darkness.

  The journey to the capital continued, but inside me, the journey back to the past never truly ended.

  When I was seven, everything changed.

  My parents slowly began to keep their distance. At first it was small things—fewer smiles, quieter dinners—but it grew into a wall between us. Not long after, a new child came into the house: my younger brother. Suddenly the house was full of noise and light that never reached me. I wasn’t allowed near him. My world narrowed.

  They moved me into a shabby apartment with a maid to look after me. The maid never paid me much attention. Her care went to the baby instead—rocking him, dressing him, singing to him. I learned quickly that I was invisible unless I needed obedience.

  When I entered middle school, I sent that maid back to my family’s estate. She had shown me false pity, pretending to care—words I refused to accept. I threw her out. From then on, I scraped by on my own. I learned how to cook, clean, and fix small things by myself. I learned to stitch up a tear and to make a meal from almost nothing.

  Once, careless with a knife while cooking, I cut my finger badly and lost a lot of blood. It hurt, but it wasn’t the worst thing. The worse thing was that no one came. I bandaged myself, finished the meal, and kept going.

  I told myself I was fine. I was free. But freedom felt empty—like a room without furniture. I never attended banquets or parties after that. No invitations came. The family warmth I had hoped for vanished into a life of quiet survival.

  Still, I survived. I was alone, stubborn, and learning to be enough for myself.

  That day, everything changed. My parents came to my apartment, asking why I didn’t attend my little brother’s birthday party. I looked at them with anger and disdain. I didn’t understand how I could have a brother I had never met, and why I should care.

  I told them, “Why the hell should I go? I don’t even know I have a brother. It’s none of my business! And the guests asked where your big son was. Such a shame. You should be ashamed.”

  My mother slapped me hard. Her eyes burned with anger as she snapped, “How rotten you have become? I shouldn’t have given birth to you!”

  That was the last straw. My anger exploded. I broke the glass in my hand, punched the vase, and tore it apart with my left hand. Exhausted and furious, I took a deep breath and declared, “I’ve had enough. I’m done. From now on, I disown this family — this greedy, reputation-seeking family.”

  I looked at them with tears and rage. “Before you disown me, I’m rejecting you as my parents. I’ve been quiet, but you’ve crossed the line. You never cared about me. You never looked back at me. Whether I was in the blazing sun or freezing cold, you never cared. You treat me like a tool, like I’m nothing. When I disagree, you throw me away like trash.”

  My voice trembled but grew stronger. “Do you know how it feels to be unloved? I’ve starved alone, never felt your love. Congratulations — you have a useful tool, and I’m just a burden to you. I don’t need you, and you don’t need me. From now on, there’s no relationship between us.”

  My heart was pounding. “I hate myself more than I hate you. If you hadn’t given me life, maybe I’d be happier as someone else’s son. I wanted a family, but before I even grew up, you threw me away. What do you expect from me? To save your reputation? Sorry, I can’t do that. I’d rather kill myself than live in this hell.”

  I punched the wall several times. Tears blurred my vision, but I kept going. Before they left, I shouted, “Never show me your faces again! Even your tool betrayed you. I’ll never help you — especially you, Mom. You rejected me. I don’t want your money, your wealth. But don’t forget — your suffering will start soon.”

  They left, and I packed my shabby apartment and walked away. That day marked the end of my suffering. The next morning, I heard the announcement — they disowned me. I welcomed it. My soul felt free, finally unchained from that cage.

  From that moment, I began a new journey — one where I was finally myself, free from their shadows.

  The past is past. I don’t want to remember that life anyway. It only comes back sometimes, like a stray shadow. Now my life is full of people—people who matter to me. It feels different. Better.

  We stopped to rest for the night. Marianne and her maid Reina sat quietly to one side, keeping distance from the others as always. On the other side, Sayo, Angelica, and Flora laughed and shared small stories. They were close, loud, and warm. Rhea was different—quieter, older in manner. She had finished reading everything I had given her and kept turning pages in her head even when she looked up.

  I walked over to her. “Rhea, have you read them all?” I asked.

  She smiled and nodded, eyes bright with plans. “Yeah!” Her expression told me she was ready to build, to make something with her hands and magic. I felt a small rush of relief and pride.

  I handed her the materials and a broken sword. The blade’s shape hinted it might become a longsword if reforged right. I could have used Forgotten Magic to remake it instantly, but I wanted her to do it herself. I wanted to teach her the craft and let her feel the work.

  Angelica called my name. My chest tightened—she hadn’t spoken to me properly since that night. She had kept her distance, polite but careful. I loved her, yes, but I didn’t understand her heart yet. If I wanted to keep what we had, I needed to learn her more.

  I moved to her side. The fire crackled. The night smelled of wood smoke and quiet roads. The group rested around us, safe for now, and tomorrow we would ride toward the capital again.

  Amahiko’s final mission was clear: the death of the third pillar of the kingdom, the sly fox himself—Duke Villanea von Rafu. The Obsidian Knights ranked it as their highest priority. This time, Alice led the strike personally.

  She moved under the cover of night, accompanied by three of her disciples. The duke’s mansion was massive and layered with guards, but none were spared. One by one, they fell to blades in the dark, their bodies crumpling silently as the group advanced. Blood stained the path they left behind, but not a sound escaped into the stillness of the estate.

  At last, they reached the corridor where the duke’s private chambers and his collection of forbidden books were kept. The disciples prepared to break into the library, but Alice raised her hand, halting them.

  “Not yet,” she whispered, her voice sharp as steel. “The first mission takes priority. Secure the sly fox.”

  The three disciples nodded and turned toward the grand door at the end of the hall. With blades drawn and mana cloaked tight, they pushed forward.

  But as the doors opened, they found not a sleeping noble but a room already alive with tension. A circle of men cloaked in black stood in wait—members of a hidden sub-cult sworn to protect the duke. Their eyes gleamed with malice, their weapons catching the faint candlelight.

  From behind them, the duke himself rose from his seat, lips curling into a sly grin. His voice cut through the room like poison.

  “Welcome,” Duke Villanea von Rafu said smoothly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  The clash erupted like thunder inside the duke’s chamber. The moment Alice drew her blade, the oppressive silence shattered into chaos.

  Steel rang against steel. Sparks danced across the marble floor.

  The sub-cult moved as one—five warriors cloaked in black, each brandishing blades infused with mana. They circled Alice, weaving together sword and spell in deadly harmony.

  The first strike came from her left. A warlock thrust his palm forward, conjuring a surge of crimson flames.

  “Infernal Burst!”

  The blast of fire roared like a living beast, searing the air with unbearable heat. Alice darted forward, slashing once with her glowing blade. The flames split apart, cleaved in two, dissipating into harmless embers.

  “Too slow,” she hissed, her sword carving a silver arc.

  Another cultist lunged from behind, chanting rapidly. “Chains of Obedience!” Iron-like tendrils burst from the floor, snaking around Alice’s legs. She twisted her blade downward.

  “Moonlight Sever—First Form!”

  Her sword flared with blinding radiance as she cleaved the tendrils apart, the shockwave shattering the marble tiles beneath her feet.

  The third rushed in with a heavy axe, muscles swelling with the spell, “Titan’s Wrath!” His weapon descended with earth-shattering force. Alice spun gracefully, her movements sharp and fluid like a dancer.

  “Moonlight Sever—Second Form! Lunar Reversal!”

  Her blade caught the axe mid-swing, redirecting its force. The cultist staggered, his weapon bouncing uselessly away, leaving his guard open. With a swift thrust, Alice pierced through his chest. Blood spilled, and he collapsed with a grunt.

  The remaining four pressed harder.

  Lightning cracked across the chamber. “Storm Javelin!” Bolts of electricity rained down upon her. Alice raised her blade, spinning it in an elegant spiral.

  “Moonlight Sever—Third Form! Celestial Guard!”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The sword emitted a crescent barrier, absorbing the crackling storm and dispersing it outward. The electricity surged into the walls, exploding in violent flashes that lit the chamber in blinding blue.

  The disciples watching near the door stood frozen, awe painted across their faces. Their master fought like a tempest—her sword art graceful, yet merciless. Every swing was destruction incarnate, every movement poetry in battle.

  Alice darted forward again, cutting through another cultist before he could finish his chant. Her strikes carried no hesitation, no mercy.

  But still, the sub-cult fought with fanatical resolve. Their blades clashed with hers, creating shockwaves that shattered windows and toppled furniture. The floor was cracked, scorched, and soaked with blood.

  At the heart of it all, Duke Villanea von Rafu remained seated. Watching. Waiting.

  Then, as the battle reached its fever pitch, he rose calmly. From within his robes, he drew a small black cube, its surface engraved with writhing runes. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled it toward Alice.

  The cube was…

  The cube pulsed with an eerie glow, runes spiraling as though alive. Alice’s body trembled, her form dragged forward piece by piece, as if invisible threads were unraveling her into particles of light and shadow.

  Her disciples screamed.

  “Master Alice!”

  “Fight it!”

  Tears streamed down their cheeks, but Alice’s calm smile silenced them.

  “Retreat,” she ordered, her voice steady even as her legs dissolved into the cube. “Retreat for now and go report about my failure. Don’t turn back until you receive further instruction.”

  “But—!”

  “No!”

  “Please don’t leave us!”

  Alice’s smile deepened, her eyes shining with pride and serenity. “Live. Serve him well. That is my last command.”

  Her final words struck their hearts like daggers. They sobbed uncontrollably, but obeyed. With clenched fists and broken hearts, they turned and fled, their footsteps echoing down the hall.

  The last of Alice’s body vanished into the cube, her presence sealed away by swarming black mana. Chains of shadow coiled tightly around the cube, locking it into its original, dormant form. It hovered briefly before dropping into the duke’s palm with a heavy thud.

  Duke Villanea von Rafu smirked faintly. “The strongest of the Seven Shadows… sealed so easily. Truly, power without caution is wasted.”

  He didn’t pursue the disciples. Instead, he tucked the cube into his robes and stepped out into the cold night. His carriage was already prepared, the sigil of his house gleaming in the moonlight. “To the capital,” he commanded. The wheels groaned as the carriage departed, carrying with it the prisoner of unimaginable value.

  ————————————————————————

  The three disciples reached the base with swollen eyes and trembling bodies. Bursting into the chamber, they fell to their knees before Beta and Claire, choking on sobs as they relayed the grim tale.

  For a moment, silence reigned.

  Beta’s eyes widened, her usual composure cracking. “Alice… defeated? Impossible.”

  Claire’s face turned pale. “By a cube? How… how could such a thing exist?”

  Shock hardened into fury. Beta slammed her hand against the table, her mana shaking the entire room. “No time for grief. If Alice has fallen, then something greater is at work here.”

  Claire nodded, her fists clenched. “Then we gather everyone. Every member must be prepared. The capital will become our battlefield if needed.”

  Without hesitation, they gave the order. Shadows stirred throughout the base, preparing for war.

  Beta and Claire set out immediately, their destination clear—

  Their master.

  Both still struggled to believe the truth: that a mere cube had trapped Alice, the strongest of the Seven Shadows.

  The air was heavy with silence after the long day of battles, exhaustion clinging to everyone’s bodies like a second skin. I lifted my hand, focusing my mana, and with a deep breath, I released it outward.

  A vast rumble echoed across the land as stone shifted, water surged from deep underground, and steam rose high into the evening sky. Within moments, before everyone’s stunned eyes, a massive hot spring appeared, its crystalline water shimmering under the pale moonlight.

  To give it proper form, I raised tall stone walls around the edges, protecting it from view. Then, with careful precision, I built another sturdy dividing wall right through the middle, splitting the spring into two equal halves. One for men. One for women.

  The others stared at me, wide-eyed, unable to process what had just happened.

  Sayo finally broke the silence, blinking at the rising steam.

  “What is it?”

  I smiled faintly and folded my arms.

  “Go check yourself!”

  She tilted her head, curiosity burning in her eyes, before glancing at the others.

  Then, I turned my gaze to Marianne. Her elegant face, tired yet composed, looked back at me.

  “Go relax for some moment. Later I will tell you a plan.”

  Her lips curved into the slightest nod. Soon, under the glow of the moonlight and the whisper of the steam, the group split, each walking toward their respective sides.

  I stepped into the men’s section alone, listening to the trickle of water, my muscles easing slightly as the warmth greeted me. Yet, even in this fleeting comfort, my mind refused to rest.

  I wonder what is going to happen next...

  On the other side of the wall, the women entered their section. The steam clung to their skin, making everything gleam under the flickering moonlight. Angelica, Sayo, Flora, and Rhea naturally grouped together, their laughter light and soft as they dipped into the spring. Marianne, however, moved quietly with her loyal maid Reina, taking the far corner in her usual composed manner.

  The water shimmered over their bodies, reflecting their grown and graceful figures. Angelica’s slender frame carried a mature allure, her curves accentuated by the soft glow of steam. Sayo’s lively form contrasted with her elegance, her breasts full and captivating, while her hips carried a natural charm. Marianne, noble and refined, had a figure equally enchanting—her graceful curves and shapely chest adding a dignified beauty to her presence.

  Rhea, not to be outdone, carried herself with a goddess-like radiance. Her figure was breathtaking, her large, milky breasts and beautiful curves catching even the eyes of her companions. The springwater sliding down her smooth skin only heightened the glow she naturally radiated.

  Meanwhile, Flora and Rhea closed their eyes, concentrating deeply as Amahiko had instructed them. The warm water acted as a conduit, amplifying their flow of mana, helping them refine and strengthen it. Their breathing slowed into rhythm, focused on leveling up their inner strength.

  On the other side, Marianne hesitated. The warmth soothed her body, the steam covered her in a veil of comfort, but her eyes darted toward Angelica and Sayo more than once. Her lips pressed together, as if she was battling with herself.

  Finally, she lowered her gaze to the rippling surface of the water.

  Her voice was soft, uncertain, but filled with a quiet determination.

  She wanted to ask a question.

  Marianne slowly approached Angelica and Sayo, her steps hesitant yet determined. The two girls exchanged a glance, already sensing the weight of something Marianne wanted to say.

  Sayo leaned slightly forward, her tone polite but curious.

  “My lady, do you want to ask us something?”

  Marianne’s lips trembled as she searched for words, her cheeks faintly flushed.

  “Um… um… do you guys perhaps like Amahiko?”

  The air froze for a moment. Angelica and Sayo both stiffened, their faces heating with sudden embarrassment. Their eyes darted toward one another, unable to form a clear answer.

  Marianne, however, straightened her back, her noble aura radiating authority as her voice rang with conviction.

  “I guess, then I cannot stay behind. From today you all are love rival. I will win his heart first.”

  Her words carried a firm tone, unshakable in resolve. Within only two days, she had discovered the depth of her feelings, and that quick realization shocked Flora, who had been listening nearby.

  Why? Flora thought to herself. What does Marianne see in Amahiko? I don’t see anything special in him… so why?

  Before she could process more, Angelica and Sayo finally gathered their courage. In unison, their voices overlapped with fiery determination.

  “Then I will win his heart before any of you no matter what!”

  The tension between them suddenly turned into a spark of rivalry. Their hearts, once beating in hesitation, now burned with a competitive flame. Soon after, the girls left the hot spring, preparing themselves with renewed resolve. Love rivals had many things to do.

  I emerged from the men’s section a little later than them, the steam fading behind me. With a flick of my hand, I erased the existence of the hot spring, the ground returning to its original form as if nothing had ever been there.

  “Prepare for tomorrow,” I told everyone firmly.

  But then—my chest tightened. A cough escaped my lips, and with it, blood. My eyes widened. This wasn’t normal. A chilling realization struck me.

  Someone is in danger. But why? Who?

  At that very moment, a figure approached, armored and exuding authority. The vice-general of the Orekus Imperial Kingdom had arrived at the scene. His sharp eyes locked directly on Marianne.

  Looks like he successfully found her.

  The night was still, yet heavy with the presence of danger. The vice-general of the Orekus Imperial Kingdom, Masato, stood before me, his soldiers spreading out until we were surrounded on all sides. Their polished armor gleamed faintly under the moonlight, the edges of their blades hungry for blood.

  Without hesitation, I raised my voice.

  “Rhea, use the magic tools! Create a shield—protect Marianne and Reina!”

  “Yes!” Rhea replied instantly. The magic circle in her hands burst to life, glowing with runic light. A dome-shaped barrier expanded around Marianne and Reina, enclosing them in safety as enemy knights attempted to strike. Their swords bounced uselessly against the shimmering shield.

  Rhea’s determination didn’t waver as she passed the newly restored longsword—the one I had asked her to repair—into Flora’s waiting hands.

  “Take it. It will serve you well.”

  Flora’s eyes sharpened, her grip firm. She rushed into the wave of low-level knights, their numbers overwhelming, yet her blade carved through their formation. Steel clashed against steel, sparks flew, and each swing of her longsword sent armored bodies sprawling. Though outnumbered, she stood unyielding, her movements precise and unrelenting.

  On the other side, Angelica and Sayo faced a different battle—one heavier, deeper, more personal. Five figures advanced on them:

  Himan Arakawa, the stern female knight whose strikes cut like thunder.

  Keisuke Arakawa, her brother, a male knight with unmatched speed.

  Keichi Niahimura, a giant of a man whose strength made the ground tremble.

  Kazuhiko Hirata, sharp-eyed, calculating, each strike aiming at their vital points.

  Maika Hirata, agile and ruthless, her blade a whisper of death.

  They were Angelica’s former seniors, now her enemies. Their eyes showed no mercy, no hesitation. Steel rang as Angelica parried Himan’s slash while Sayo weaved between Keisuke’s quick attacks, retaliating with precise counters. Both fought fiercely, their bonds with each other stronger than any past connection with their opponents.

  And then, I stood before Masato, the vice-general himself. His aura was suffocating, his eyes sharp as a hawk’s, watching my every move.

  I grinned, raising my voice to provoke him.

  “Take care of me!”

  He didn’t flinch, merely shifted into stance, his blade gleaming with killing intent.

  I extended my hand, and the air rippled. From the abyss of shadows, a weapon answered my call. The black blade emerged, swallowing the moonlight around it. Its presence radiated cold power that seemed to consume the very space it existed in.

  I gripped the hilt firmly.

  My sword—“Darkness.”

  The battle was about to begin.

  The clash of steel echoed through the field as Angelica and Sayo stood firm before their enemies. Angelica’s ex-seniors circled them, smirks twisting their faces, their words sharp and cruel.

  “Look at you, Angelica,” Himan sneered, her blade resting casually on her shoulder. “From a proud knight of the kingdom to nothing but a traitor’s companion. What a disgrace.”

  Maika laughed coldly, her eyes filled with scorn. “You were always weak, always hiding behind others. Do you think siding with him makes you strong now?”

  The men joined in, voices filled with venom.

  “You’ll regret betraying us.”

  “You’re not even worthy of being called a knight anymore.”

  Angelica said nothing. Her silence was colder than any blade. She simply raised her sword and watched them, her calm gaze enough to unsettle even her former comrades.

  Infuriated by her composure, they attacked with more ferocity. Blades whistled through the air, the force of their strikes shaking the ground. Yet Angelica parried each one with elegance, her movements precise, while Sayo danced at her side, her sword flashing like silver light.

  Sayo’s lips moved quickly, her voice steady even in the chaos.

  “Chains of restraint, bind the enemies before me—Shadow Bind!”

  Dark tendrils of magic burst from the ground, coiling around Himan and Maika before they could react. The two female knights were ensnared, their swords falling from their hands as the bindings tightened, leaving them helpless.

  The three male knights roared in anger and charged. But Angelica’s eyes sharpened. Her blade moved with a finality that brooked no hesitation.

  One strike—swift and merciless—cut through Keisuke’s chest.

  A second slash—fluid and precise—severed Kazuhiko’s defense and pierced his heart.

  Her final thrust—driven by resolve—brought Keichi crashing to the ground, his strength failing him as life fled from his eyes.

  They fell one after another, their arrogance crumbling in the face of her unyielding blade. Death was their only reward for their misdeeds.

  Sayo tightened her magic, ensuring the two female knights remained trapped, their eyes wide in disbelief at how easily they had been defeated.

  Meanwhile, not far away, Flora stood amidst fallen bodies. Her longsword dripped with blood, and not a single low-level knight remained standing. She had cut through their numbers like a storm, her strength overwhelming every opponent.

  Rhea, calm but vigilant, maintained the shimmering shield that encased Princess Marianne and Reina, her hands glowing with magical energy as she reinforced the barrier whenever enemy spells struck. The princess and her maid were safe—untouched amidst the storm of battle.

  The tide of the fight was shifting.

  My blade met Masato’s again and again, steel singing in the cold night. We exchanged blows, each testy glance between strikes filled with more than simple challenge. I was holding back—just a little—watching his moves, learning his limits. He was sharp, his body built like a soldier born for battle, and he fought with the precision of a vice-general.

  Then Beta and Claire arrived like storms. I backed away a step to hear them speak. Their faces were pale and hard. For a moment they hesitated, then the words cut through the air.

  “Alice got captured by that pervert duke,” they said.

  I felt the world tilt. Alice—my friend, my mirror in many ways—was taken. My breath shortened. Anger rose in me hot and raw, hotter than any blade could burn. They both knew how much she meant to me. I loved her in a way words could not hold; she was a reflection of my will and my promise.

  A soldier near the duke stepped forward and produced a vial of red fluid. He drank it in one hard motion. The air around him changed—he moved as if a new stage had begun. But that did not matter. I had passed beyond stages. Even gods and fables that once ruled would bow before what I had become.

  The battle would end soon. Nothing would stop me now. I tasted iron and fury and the need to move—fast, relentless—to rescue her.

  I have to go to rescue Alice. I’m coming Alice.