"Mother…"
Seeing who had arrived, Tokoyogi Yūma lost all strength and collapsed to the floor, blood spilling from her mouth; the blood flowing from her chest soaked into the ground.
Tokoyogi Aya, however, didn't spare her a glance. She walked straight up to Shichen and the others.
Though she had the exact sa features as Yūma, there were many differences. Tokoyogi Aya's hair fell all the way to her feet; she wore layered formal robes like a Heian-era noblewoman's jūnihitoe. The gorgeous, overlapping garnts, dyed in stark black and white, gave her a shinigami-like air. Her face was youthful and captivating, but her eyes were scarlet—blazing fire. The corners of her eyes smiled, her smile gentle, yet it carried an ominous cast.
"I can't believe it. I was so careful, and I still couldn't hurt you."
Aya glanced at the unscathed Minamiya Natsuki, shook her head, then looked to Shichen.
"The 'impossible' Fifth Primogenitor, is it? Impressive, indeed."
"Are you ready to pay the price?" Shichen asked coldly, expressionless.
"The price? Even if you are the Fifth Primogenitor, you shouldn't be so arrogant," Aya laughed.
"Heh—fearless, are we? Who gave you that courage?" Shichen couldn't help but smile. Courage was fine; blind confidence was not. It seed she'd been shut in the Prison Barrier too long.
"Courage? Looks like Natsuki hasn't told you the details. Do you really dare act as you please here?" Aya asked in a lilting tone.
"I see," Shichen nodded.
Aya's brazenness was because she thought Shichen wouldn't dare wreck the place. The power of a familiar could easily annihilate her, but the Prison Barrier wouldn't survive either, and the caster maintaining it would suffer severe backlash.
"Too bad—you don't know much about ." Shichen opened his hand; golden fla blossod in his palm. When dealing with a cursed thing, you use the power of purification.
"What is that?" Aya frowned at the golden fla, a chill running through her. In that small tongue of fire she sensed a mortal threat—as if it could erase her with ease.
"No wonder you're the 'impossible' Fifth Primogenitor… In that case—" Aya slanted a look toward Yūma, her face hardening.
"Gah—aaah—!"
Yūma scread awake from her faint, coughing blood and convulsing. Behind her, the faceless, blue knight—her witch's guardian embodied by mana—was being devoured by crawling, black, vein-like lines.
"She and I are the sa, so of course I can do this," Aya said matter-of-factly. She was forcibly seizing Yūma's control over the guardian.
"Aya…" Natsuki stared at her, cold as ice. Using overwhelming mana and a blood bond stronger than any spell, Aya had intervened in Yūma's guardian. The act enraged her.
"Mother…" Yūma pleaded, voice full of sorrow.
Her only answer was Aya's faint smile—an expression of complete indifference.
"My dear daughter, it's ti to return the power I lent you~"
She raised her left hand. A sharp cracking, like splintering wood, rang out.
"AAAAAAH—!" Yūma scread, voice torn. Her back arched uncontrollably; sothing snapped and peeled away with a crackle—as if invisible giant hands were tearing the wings off a little bird. The bird could only shriek.
Splurt—!
Yūma's spiritual pathways were severed; mana gushed from them like blood. Her guardian, once cerulean, had turned completely black.
"Roaaar—!"
The faceless knight bellowed like a beast newly freed from its chains. It moved without hesitation to stand behind Aya, its wavering shape like a mirage. Aya had wrenched Yūma's guardian away—though arguably, it had been hers to begin with.
Yūma, like a broken doll cast aside, collapsed to the floor. Shichen could feel there was still breath in her—she wasn't dead. He tossed the holy fla in his hand toward her.
The golden fire leapt, flew to Yūma, and wrapped around her; it blazed up at once.
"What's this? Planning to dispose of the body?" Aya asked, unmoved.
Shichen ignored her. He was saving the girl—doing it now to crush any last illusions she might have had about her mother. A child starved of love yearns for her mother most—but this mother wasn't worthy.
Cruel? Perhaps. But there was no other way—and Shichen had no reason to coddle her. She wasn't his woman; he wasn't interested.
"Hm?" Aya noticed the life force slowly rising from Yūma. "You're saving her? Impossible… that fla?"
She stared, disbelieving. The fire radiated a deadly threat—how could it heal?
There was no need for Shichen to explain. The effects of his holy fla depended entirely on his will. Now that Yūma was no longer a witch, it couldn't harm her; the life within the fla made it ideal for healing. She was incomplete—her guardian ripped away. That was the price of her pact—part of her very self. Ordinary healing magic wouldn't suffice; it might nd her, but not make her whole. The life-steeped holy fla could replenish what was missing.
In the blink of an eye, Yūma brimd with vitality again—her aura strong, her complexion warmly flushed. She had suffered monts ago and still lay unconscious.
"Incredible…" Aya watched the fla return to Shichen's palm, her gaze unsettled.
"Aya, I will not forgive you. I'll kill you with my own hands," Natsuki said, staring in a daze.
Aya's coldness toward her daughter—treating her as nothing but a tool for escape, without a trace of maternal love—was unforgivable.
"Hahaha! Natsuki, what are you angry about? That girl is rely a puppet I created. How I treat her is my prerogative. And she's healed now, isn't she? She can live like a normal person," Aya laughed, her words bloodless.
"Damn you!"
Natsuki couldn't take it anymore. In fury she raised her hand; ripples blossod behind her, and chains snaked out, ready to fire at Aya—Chains of Restriction, a binding magitech forged by the gods.
"Natsuki—wait," Shichen stopped her.
"Mm?" She frowned at him, displeased—she was livid.
"Leave it to . If you fight her here, it won't go well for you."
"I'm in no mood to care."
"Be good." He ruffled her hair. "I brought Yūma; I'll take responsibility."
"…Fine. You do it." Natsuki shook off his hand, still annoyed.
"Good."
Shichen's smile vanished; his face went cold as he looked at Aya.
"I won't let you die easy."
"Heh—let's see if I die first, or Natsuki—what?" Aya froze. She was trying to teleport—but nothing happened. She couldn't use spatial arts at all.
"What did you— Is that…?" She stared, horrified, at the looming shape behind Shichen.
A gigantic, pale-violet, theropod-like beast stood upright. Disk-like structures striped with purple crowned its shoulders, each set with a pearl encircled by gray rings. Tusks jutted from its mouth, a sharp crest arced from its head, wings spread on its back—its majesty unbearable to look upon.
Palkia, the God of Space.
With Palkia awakened, no one could rival Shichen in dominion over space.
He offered no explanation. He bound the space around Aya, then cast the holy fla from his hand.
"No—AAAH—!"
Aya watched the fire streak toward her and could do nothing until it struck. The soul-searing pain wrenched a scream from her—exactly like Yūma's earlier. In that mont, she tasted the agony her daughter had endured.
"N—no… help… Yūma…"
No one heeded her pleas. The holy fla burned her to nothing—reducing her and the now-blackened guardian to ash.
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