As the seal decayed, her locked, volatile past-life mana would begin to micro-leak into her everyday spellcasting.
The beauty of the trap was the political fallout. When her light magic inevitably backfired or fluctuated violently during her public holy ceremonies, the cathedral's tracking wards wouldn't register my interference—they would register a massive spike of pure, unrefined ![]()
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38
He was the third name on my blacklist, a guy who used to look down on my fragile, Tier-1 self like I was literal dirt beneath his polished leather boots.The entire room went dead silent as I strolled in.I wasn't wearing the ragged, soot-stained uniform of an academy dropout anymore. I was draped in the blinding, heavily enchanted silver breastplate of a High Captain, my white silk cape billowing behind me, and my permanent Tier-3 core radiating a lazy, suffocatingly dense blue mana pressure that made the teacups on the table violently rattle. Seraphine walked a half-step behind me, her arms crossed, her signature absolute-zero smirk firmly in place."What is the meaning of this?!" Marko snapped, slamming his hands onto the desk as he stood up, his face flushing with aristocratic rage. "Ethan Hoke? You're supposed to be in a dungeon or a ditch! How dare you barge into the council chambers with armed—""Quiet down, classmate. You're giving me a headache, and I haven't even had my mor
37
The following morning, the Grand Cathedral was suffocatingly quiet.I stood on my eastern wing balcony, dressed in my pristine, over-decorated High Captain uniform, watching the paladin guards change shifts in the courtyard below. The silver-leaf grass had been perfectly manicured, the broken fountain was fully operational again, and the corpse of the skull-faced assassin had vanished as if he had never existed.I knew the church hierarchy had picked up the remnants of last night’s mess. I knew they knew exactly what happened. And their complete, echoing silence told me everything I needed to know. The Pope and his cult allies were keeping it quiet because admitting an assassin had breached the inner sanctum to check on the Holy Maiden would expose the fragile, rotting state of their secret alliance. They were playing pretend, waiting to see my next move, and I was more than happy to let them sweat."You really enjoy standing on balconies like a tragic hero in a bad romance novel,
36
I stepped toward her, intending to offer a hand to guide her back to her chambers before the cathedral's automated tracking wards could register the fluctuation. But before my boot could touch the bottom step of the gazebo, the air behind us didn't just grow cold—it went entirely dead.The low, rhythmic chirping of the night crickets in the terraced gardens cut off instantly.‘Warning: High-tier physical concealment ward breached,’ thirty percent of the Eye of the Sovereign hummed inside my mind, mapping a sudden, violent distortion on the high slate roof of the cathedral’s eastern wing. ‘Spatial compression tracking active. Target velocity: Terminal.’I didn't look up. I didn't give a single indication that my neon-blue tactical grid had just locked onto a shadow currently detaching itself from the stone gargoyles above.A figure dropped from the sky, falling fifty feet with the absolute, terrifying silence of a hunting owl. It landed perfectly in the center of the silver-leaf grass
35
The wooden blade hissed through the silver moonlight, aiming with terrifying, academy-perfect precision straight for my left shoulder.I didn't move. I didn't tense. I didn't even shift my feet.To Clara, it probably looked like I had frozen out of sheer teenage panic. But in my mind’s eye, the trajectory of her pine saber was mapped out down to the millimeter on a phantom blue geometric grid. At the absolute last fraction of a second—right when the wood was about to clip the fabric of my black linen shirt—I casually pivoted my torso by a mere two inches.The tip of her blade sliced through empty air, the kinetic force pulling her slightly off-balance.Using the natural momentum of her own overextension, I brought my wooden saber up in a lazy, effortless flick. Thwack.The flat of my pine blade tapped the side of her wrist just hard enough to vibrate her grip, followed immediately by a smooth, sweeping kick that hooked right behind her ankle."Ah!" Clara gasped.With a soft rustle of
34
As the seal decayed, her locked, volatile past-life mana would begin to micro-leak into her everyday spellcasting.The beauty of the trap was the political fallout. When her light magic inevitably backfired or fluctuated violently during her public holy ceremonies, the cathedral's tracking wards wouldn't register my interference—they would register a massive spike of pure, unrefined abyssal energy originating directly from the Holy Maiden's own soul.The Pope would be forced to assume that his secret cult allies were trying to prematurely hijack his daughter, shattering the trust between the vicar of God and the lords of the abyss without a single finger pointing back to the new High Captain."It... it tastes a bit spicy," C
33
The Pope took a slow, calm sip from his golden chalice, his expression entirely detached. "Ethan Hoke is exactly where I want him. By appointing him as Clara's Captain, I have bound his movements to the cathedral's wards. He cannot step an inch out of line without my paladins knowing.""And if he triggers her seal?" the cult leader hissed, the air temperature in the room violently dropping as a dark, miasmic aura flared behind him. "If the Sovereign awakens No. 2 before the alignment is complete, the entire ritual collapses. The Holy See's treasury cannot fund another failure.""He won't," the Pope replied, his voice dropping into a terrifying, icy baritone that made my jaw tighten. "The seal is locked with the blood of the Pope. If he tries to force it, the backlash will liquefy his brains. Let him play the arrogant protector. When the rift opens beneath the capital, he will either serve as the perfect catalyst... or the first sacrifice."The cult leader let out a low, sickening c
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