White silhouettes continued to rise from the floor, flickering like ghostly flas.
The queen’s bodyguards imdiately stepped forward, moving in front of Eliana to cover her.
Aiden drew his swords with a sharp tallic rasp.
"All of them are second-grade spirits!" he shouted. "It’s a distraction—since the assassination failed, the sniper needs ti to escape!"
In the next second Joan dashed toward the exit.
The spirits did not react to him at all. They didn’t even turn their heads in his direction.
One of the royal guards leaped forward and slashed at a nearby spirit.
The blade passed through it—
The spirit exploded.
A shockwave threw the guard backward. He twisted in midair, barely managing to land on his feet, but his shoulder was ripped open and blood flowed down his arm.
Aiden flashed to his side.
"Sir, are you okay?" he asked.
"Don’t worry," the man grunted. "It’s just a scratch."
He raised his voice.
"Don’t get close to them! They explode the mont we attack!"
Arthur stood a few steps away, eyes sweeping the room.
He looked at Eliana.
"Aren’t you scared?" he asked. "You could die right now."
Eliana t his gaze calmly.
"Do you think this is the first ti soone has tried to kill , boy?" she said. "Just wait and watch. Everything will be alright."
As if on cue, two figures moved at the sa ti.
Evangeline and Jasmine.
A heavy, black machine gun materialized in Evangeline’s hands—an M249-style light machine gun, thick barrel and drum magazine humming with mana. At the sa mont, a sleek, silver bow ford in Jasmine’s grip, glowing with a faint blue light.
Evangeline grinned.
"Let’s dance."
She squeezed the trigger.
The machine gun roared to life, spitting a hail of glowing bullets. Each round tore through the air and slamd into a white spirit.
The instant the bullets touched the spirits, they detonated.
Before the shockwaves could spread, Jasmine’s bowstring twanged. Arrows of condensed mana shot out, forming small shimring dos around each exploding spirit.
The explosions were contained within those transparent barriers, flashes of light blooming silently inside like miniature suns.
Evangeline moved forward, sweeping the barrel in controlled arcs, cutting the spirits down row by row.
Jasmine stayed just behind her, eyes sharp. Every ti a bullet hit and a spirit began to detonate, another arrow flew, wrapping the blast inside a do that trapped the force and flas before they could damage anyone else.
Bang—thrum.
Explosion—do.
Over and over, perfectly in sync.
Their teamwork was seamless. Evangeline advanced like a storm of bullets, while Jasmine followed like a precise, unerring shield.
Less than two minutes later, the last spirit disappeared in a muffled flash.
The throne room, however, was wrecked—pillars cracked, carpet shredded, walls scorched—but not a single person besides the one injured guard had taken any damage.
Arthur, the guards, Ravina, Yuichi—everyone watched in stunned appreciation.
Even Arthur had to admit silently, ’That was... impressive.’
Evangeline and Jasmine glanced at each other.
They both smiled—
Then imdiately looked away with matching huffs.
Eliana sighed.
"If only they actually liked each other," she muttered.
Arthur dusted off his suit and turned toward the entrance.
"If you’ll excuse ," he said, "I have to capture the assassin before he escapes."
"Don’t be overconfident, boy," Eliana warned. "He could be a dangerous opponent. Take the royal guards with you."
"Sorry to say this," Arthur replied, deadpan, "but these guys are useless. You should fire them imdiately."
Aiden almost burst out laughing as he saw the royal guards grit their teeth beneath their helts.
In the next instant, Arthur’s figure blurred and vanished from the spot.
Evangeline stepped forward.
"Aiden, go help him," she said. "I’ll handle everything here."
Aiden nodded once.
"Got it."
He sprinted toward the exit, running after Arthur as fast as he could.
On the roof of a massive building overlooking the palace, a man crouched behind a parapet.
He had brown hair, brown eyes, and wore a dark hooded coat that blended with the shadows. A long sniper rifle rested on the ledge in front of him, barrel still faintly warm.
He was the one who had fired the shot.
The mont he saw his bullet get cancelled out by a black-haired boy inside the throne room, he went speechless.
That wasn’t just any bullet.
The anti-mana round he had used was an Anti-Matter Disruption Shell, a specialized bullet designed to destroy matter itself. Even if the shot missed its target, it would have created a localized black hole phenonon—sothing almost impossible to escape from, even for high-rankers.
And yet that kid had simply erased it.
The man clicked his tongue and forced himself to move. His window was closing fast.
Now that the assassination had failed, he had only a few minutes before the royal guards stord the upper levels. He had to keep them occupied and then escape.
He gritted his teeth.
"System," he said loudly, "use all the spirit bombs as planned."
[ Command received. Activating deployed Spirit Bombs. ]
Back in the throne room, the white silhouettes that had risen from the floor stirred at once.
Every single one of them was a spirit bomb in disguise.
—
On the rooftop, a call notification chid softly on the man’s wrist.
He tapped the device.
A holographic screen unfolded in front of him, flickering to life.
A woman’s upper body appeared on the screen—ocean-blue hair tied neatly back, brown eyes sharp and focused.
"Alveer," she said. "Have you completed the mission?"
Alveer continued packing his gear with practiced efficiency, folding the bipod, dismantling the rifle, and slotting the pieces into a case.
"Miss Sakura," he replied, "the shot missed. A dark-haired guy intervened and saved the queen at the last mont."
He snapped the case shut and slung it over his shoulder.
"But don’t worry," he added. "I made a backup plan just in case. It’s in effect now."
The mont Sakura heard "dark-haired," her eyes narrowed.
She knew there were countless dark-haired people in the world.
But a certain image forced its way into her mind.
"Can you elaborate?" she asked. "How does he look?"
Alveer walked toward the elevator door at the center of the rooftop, boots crunching on gravel.
"His looks, huh..." he said. "Dark hair, handso face."
He paused, recalling the scene.
"Ah, one more thing. His eyes—red. Bright red."
A jolt shot through Sakura.
Her fingers tightened.
"It looks like that bastard escaped the Null Realm," she muttered.
"Is sothing the matter, Miss?" Alveer asked. "Don’t worry. Everything is still under control—"
"Alveer, escape from there right now!" Sakura snapped. "That guy is dangerous."
Alveer instantly tensed.
Then he froze.
Because behind him, a calm voice spoke.
"It’s been a short ti, hasn’t it, Sakura?"
Alveer’s blood ran cold.
He didn’t turn imdiately. Every muscle in his body went on alert.
Slowly, he turned around.
Two figures stood there as if they had been there the whole ti.
A white-haired boy with gray eyes—Aiden.
And the black-haired boy whose intervention had ruined his perfect shot—Arthur.
"Alveer, don’t engage in combat, just ru—" Sakura began.
He cut the call with a sharp tap.
The hologram vanished.
Alveer exhaled, then smirked.
"The white-haired one," he said, looking at Aiden, "I don’t know much about you."
He shifted his gaze to Arthur.
"But the black-haired one..." His eyes narrowed. "So you’re Arthur, huh."
A slow, unpleasant smile spread across his face.
"I’ve heard a lot about you."
His expression darkened in the next instant.
"So you’re the one who killed David," he said.
Arthur scratched his cheek.
"Oh, I think I rember beheading a backstabbing bastard nad David a few days ago," he said. "Why, was he your boyfriend or sothing?"
Alveer’s shoulders shook.
He let out a grim laugh and dragged a hand down his face.
"You think you’re funny, huh?" he said. "That guy was my best friend. He supported in my worst tis."
His eyes glinted with sothing ugly.
"When I heard he died on a mission, I felt grief like never before. I wanted to twist your neck with my own hands."
He spread his arms slightly.
"And now you co to yourself. How considerate."
"The mont I give you a grueso death—cutting your body open piece by piece—is the mont David’s soul will finally rest in peace."
"Eww," Aiden said, grimacing. "That’s... disturbingly detailed."
He glanced at Arthur.
"Looks like he really did love that guy."
"Well," Arthur replied, "looks like I’m good at guessing afterall."
"Shut up!" Alveer roared.
Mana flared around him in a violent surge, whipping his coat.
"The system I possess is called the Sacrificial System," he said, eyes wild. "I can sacrifice anything I have in exchange for anything I want—as long as I pay the appropriate price."
He spread his arms.
"Now I’ll show you how to use these tools we call systems to their full potential."
He raised his voice.
"System! I sacrifice thirty years of my lifespan!"
[ Sacrifice confird: 30 years of host lifespan. ]
"Open the Spirit Realm," Alveer continued, "and summon sothing strong enough to kill the two pests and anyone standing against ."
[ Request accepted. Calculating equivalent exchange... ]
System notifications flickered invisibly before his eyes as the Sacrificial System activated.
In front of him, the air warped.
A small, jagged gate tore open in the empty space above the rooftop, its edges crackling with violet lightning. A blast of terrifying spiritual energy poured out, heavy and suffocating, as if sothing enormous was slowly forcing its way through.
Arthur’s red eyes narrowed.
Aiden tightened his grip on his swords.
The gate to the Spirit Realm had opened.
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