Responsibility is Heavy
All of this happened because she snapped her fingers.
One movement—one sound—and suddenly Asahi was bleeding, crying out like his body didn’t understand why.
He collapsed forward, hitting the ground on his stomach.
Urizee pulled her hand out of Asahi as if she were withdrawing it from water. Asahi fell into his own spreading pool of blood, and with one careless swing of her arm, crimson splattered across the flowers.
Then she stepped back—neat and obedient—like she’d completed a simple task.
Asahi’s barrier flickered. Then it broke.
The golden wall vanished, finally giving Rita a path—But the moment it opened, Rita’s radiance began to dim.
Her glow sputtered as if the air itself refused to let her exist here.
She looked at herself, then up at the superior spirit in the sky as if understanding everything.
Slowly, painfully, Rita faded to a dull light.
Then—puff.
She dispersed into particles that drifted for a second… and disappeared.
The Superior Spirit’s mouth curled, satisfied.
“…!”
“Rita—!” I shouted, the name tearing out of me.
We rushed toward Asahi at once.
Mariada wouldn’t let me leave her barrier, so we moved together inside it—two steps, then three—while the world beyond the wall felt like teeth waiting to bite. At the same time, Reina surged forward, aiming to subdue Urizee—
But Urizee hopped back, retreating to stand beneath the Superior Spirit like a puppet returning to its master.
Reina stopped short and switched to guard.
Ice swords formed above her in a slow orbit, points angled forward, ready to drop at the slightest mistake.
“What happened to Rita?” I asked. To no one, just myself. "Why did she just disappear?"
But I still got a response.
The spirit shrugged, voice casual—almost bored. “Nothing, really. She entered my domain without permission.”
Her eyes narrowed, and the air seemed to tighten with them.
“No other spirit can exist here without my permission.”
“Tch…”
I clicked my tongue, fury simmering, then forced myself back to Asahi.
“This looks bad…” I dropped beside him, throat tight. “Asahi?”
Mariada was already reaching for him. “Let me heal him.”
“No.” The word came out too fast.
I knew what her space-time magic had cost her before.
“I appreciate it,” I forced out, “but we can’t have you losing your strength on us, too, Mary.”
My mind was moving more calmly than my heart could justify. Experience does that—turns panic into procedure.
But the fear still sat in my chest like a stone.
If Asahi died here…
“Krai,” Mariada said—soft and steady. “Remember...”
She looked at me with reassurance that didn’t belong in a field soaked in blood.
“You gave me a family name and evolved me into a Catsy. I don’t have the same limits anymore—except mana loss.”
The way she said my name—just “Krai,” without the usual distance—caught me off guard.
But her declaration hit harder.
Mariada didn’t heal with holy light. She healed by forcing reality to bend its rules.
She could form a space capsule around a target and manipulate time within it—rewind damage, accelerate recovery, stitch moments back together.
That was how she saved me from mana overload.
This magic used to come with a brutal toll.
But her evolution might have changed the rules. Or at least… moved them further.
Even so—
Reina spoke without taking her eyes off Urizee and the Superior Spirit.
“That doesn’t mean the consequences are gone,” she said. “Your lifespan is still on the line here.”
Mariada didn’t flinch.
“Let's not forget that's the main reason I sealed your magic in the first place,” Reina continued.
"That's exactly what I mean," Mariada said confidently.
Reina’s gaze slid to her, surprised—then back to the enemy.
Mariada kept talking while pressing a hand to Asahi’s wound, slowing the bleeding the only way she could.
Healing a corpse was meaningless after all.
“The only thing that can truly get in my way now,” Mariada said, “is our opposing mana attributes.”
She swallowed, expression hard.
“At worst, one of us suffers mana poisoning.”
Then she met Reina’s eyes directly.
“And we don’t have time to worry about poisoning.”
Reina had no healing magic. No alternative. And with Rita gone, there was no other way.
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then she exhaled.
“Fine,” Reina said. “Do as you wish.”
Mariada turned to me.
“Please step aside, Young Master.”
"Right," I obeyed immediately. “Save Asahi.”
“I’ll do all I can.”
Then she began.
First… I'll slow time around his mind. If he loses consciousness, it’s over.
Mariada placed her left palm against Asahi’s head and enacted the first step.
Good. Now—let's begin.
She lifted her arms over his torso, drew one deep breath, and spoke with the calm of someone cutting thread.
“Space–Time magic…”
Her voice steadied.
“Temporal Stitch.
A new spell—one she’d gained after evolving through the naming ritual.
A weaving of her old techniques—Backlash and Haste—combined into something meant not just to rewind and accelerate, but to repair.
Time slowed where it was supposed to—Asahi's wound and consciousness. Time sped where it was safe—His metabolism and cell reproduction.
And Life was forced to keep moving.
“It’s pointless,” the Superior Spirit said lazily from above. “That wound won’t heal.”
“Shut your mouth,” I said.
Cold. Calm.
The words surprised even me.
“Mhm…?” The Superior Spirit’s brow lifted, as if she’d discovered a new toy.
I stared up at her, fury packed so tightly inside me it felt like it might ignite.
“You’re the one who did this,” I said. “You spoke of keeping your promise to Syria… and yet you’ve done the opposite.”
My voice didn’t rise.
But beneath it, anger boiled—hot enough to crack stone.
“You speak as if I broke my promise,” she replied, almost amused.
“Huh? Then what do you call this?!” I snapped, pointing toward Asahi’s bleeding body.
She lifted her palm, displaying it like evidence.
“Did you see me lay a hand on him?”
My breath caught.
“…Ah.”
“The promise I made,” she continued, tone perfectly even, “was not to fight you.”
Her eyes held mine.
“And I have not laid a finger on you.”
Then she smiled faintly.
“So my promise remains intact.”
The words were neutral. The reality behind them was not.
And in that moment, a harsh truth settled into my chest: Adulthood is full of trickery. Lies and deception. And I had just been taught it by a spirit.
“And so you controlled Urizee to injure Asahi?!” I demanded, voice tight.
“Bingo.” The Superior Spirit’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I cannot break my promise to Syria. But I also cannot let you off the hook.”
The words were simple. But the way they fell onto me was heavy.
And when she added—almost casually—“Spirits cannot lie,” something inside me settled into place.
A cold understanding of the world.
“I see,” I said quietly. I wasn’t asking for permission anymore. “So using other people is acceptable?”
She didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to. Her action had answered even before I could ask.
“Then so be it.”
I tore my gaze from her and looked toward Reina, who stood between Mariada and the enemy like a wall of ice given will.
“Reina,” I said.
“Don’t worry,” Reina replied before I could finish. “I’ve got it here.”
“…Right.” I glanced at Urizee. “Just—be careful. She’s being—”
“I said I got it.” Reina thumped her chest once. “I’ll break her hold without injuring her. Don’t worry.”
I nodded. “I’m counting on you.”
Reina’s expression softened for half a heartbeat.
“But… are you going to be okay?” she asked. The worry showed in the way her eyes stayed on me a second too long.
I forced a smile, the kind meant to reassure someone else even when it didn’t reassure me.
“I’ll be fine. I’m your number one pupil, remember?”
“That’s not—” Reina started, then swallowed it down with a frustrated breath. “Argh. Whatever. Just be careful.”
The smile didn’t do its job.
Because the moment I turned back toward the Superior Spirit, my expression cooled into something else entirely.
“You seem to be planning something,” she said. “Know this—if you break your promise to Syria… I will kill you.”
“I’ve had enough of your egotistical spiel,” I answered, voice calm.
She glared down at me as if defending myself was a sin, and cruelty was a virtue.
I didn’t blink.
Mana gathered around me like a storm tightening its fist.
Heat swelled. The air warped. The earth beneath my boots cracked in thin lines, and several flowers at my feet blackened at the edges.
Reina and Mariada both stared—surprised by the sheer pressure.
But I stopped myself.
This wasn’t the uncontrolled flood from my near-death days. This time, I had it contained.
I inhaled. And pulled it all back in.
The pressure vanished as if it had never existed—leaving only cracked soil and scorched petals as proof that it had happened.
The Superior Spirit didn’t look impressed.
She looked confident.
Good. I wanted her to be confident.
Because it would be so satisfying to break her while she's at the top.
"What is your name?" I asked calmly.
"Oh. You can refer to me as Florene," She paused. "The Superior Spirit of Flower."
I closed my eyes, then opened them right in front of her face.
"...AH!..." Florene hissed.
“Florene," I said. "Let’s take this someplace else."
I poured power into the soles of my feet, contracted my muscles, and focused my mana the way a jetpack does its flames—compression, release, straight line.
Then I moved.
The world blurred.
In a single blink-step, I was in the air—hand closing around Florene’s throat as my momentum carried us both like a shooting star across the sky.
My face stayed expressionless.
Hers did not.
For the first time, her composure cracked into bewilderment.
“What the—?!” I heard Reina’s voice from far below. “What just happened?!”
Mariada answered, breathless with awe. “He just—concentrated all his firepower on his feet."
“I didn't know he could do that," Reina muttered, and I could hear the reluctant pride beneath it.
He’s grown—She thought with a smile.
But admiration was a luxury. And looking away during turmoil was a mistake.
Urizee seized the opening, lunging toward Reina—Only to have the strike deflected instantly by one of Reina’s floating ice swords.
Reina’s eyes didn’t even move.
“Hey now,” she said smoothly. “Don’t think I’m not watching you just because I’m not staring.”
Urizee hopped back, creating distance.
But—It was all for nothing.
“The young master isn’t the only one who can speed blitz his opponents,” Reina said, her eyes wide open to assert dominance.
Reina appeared at Urizee’s side, close enough that the air between them chilled.
Urizee flinched, caught off guard.
It was the perfect opening to strike, but Reina didn’t.
Whether it was restraint… or pride refusing to be outdone by her pupil… I couldn’t tell from this far away.
Urizee jumped back again to widen the gap. Reina allowed it this time, eyes measuring, assessing every move.
Then Reina spoke, voice low.
“Tell me, Urizee. Are you being controlled by that spirit?”
Urizee stayed silent long enough to seem as if she were calculating.
"Mhm...?" Reina hummed.
“…I’ll leave that to your imagination,” Urizee finally answered.
Reina’s eyebrow lifted.
“Oh? You can express yourself.”
Her excitement lasted a fraction of a second—then turned into focus.
“Clearly a different kind of control,” Reina murmured. “Not like when Marcus was being controlled…”
She tilted her head slightly, thinking even while keeping her guard.
Then she raised her voice.
“Snap out of it, Urizee, or I’ll make you!”
Urizee answered with silence.
Reina exhaled, irritation leaking through.
“That was the only gentle way to pull you back without hurting you,” she said, voice tightening. “And you just blew it.”
Her expression hardened—not at Urizee, not truly, but at the situation.
At her for denying mercy, even if she was being controlled.
Reina shifted her stance and dissolved all of her conjured ice swords into a water ball, letting it hover above her palm.
With only one arm remaining, Reina prioritized her magic over swordsmanship.
Urizee mirrored her with a defensive posture.
Empty-handed. No blade. No shield. Just a body being used like a weapon.
They stared at each other. A heartbeat. Then another.
No one dared to move first.
But... it was more Urizee than Reina.
Her strike on Asahi had been luck against someone who wasn’t fighting back.
This time, she was facing Reina. And the difference was life-threatening.
