With Raizen's emergence, the air in the room seemed to collapse under an unseen weight, making even the act of breathing feel expensive. The Master stood a step ahead. The burn on his palm was still fresh, yet his face bore no trace of pain. His eyes glittered with astonishment, scrutinizing the man before him as if weighing his soul.
Daichi and Ryuji had instinctively retreated half a step. The battle had not yet begun, but their bodies were already braced for it. The only problem in that moment was that no one felt certain enough to make the first move.
Raizen stood with an ease that suggested he was the host. The insolent smirk on his face widened. Despite his slumped appearance, he possessed a remarkably vibrant energy. Ryuji's hand moved involuntarily toward the sword at his waist, but the Master's slightly raised hand quickly stopped him. The Master realized that this man was not merely a rebel, but a carrier of those ancient prices that rattled the balance of nature.
Raizen took a step forward, spreading his arms wide.
Raizen:
"I understand your shock, but... I expected a slightly more 'heated' welcome after I prepared that invitation..."
The man's voice was raspy, as if there were glowing embers caught in his throat, yet it carried a mischievous edge. He pouted artificially.
Master:
"Using the seals of your Jewel to carve a path here is not just courage, young man—it is madness. Do you not fear the limits of your power?"
Raizen burst into a laugh, though this time the sound was devoid of joy. He leaned toward the table, tracing his fingertips across the wood; thin wisps of smoke rose wherever he touched.
Raizen:
"Limits? 'Limit' is just a term invented by cowards, old man. But of course, I didn't come here to discuss philosophy."
He paused for a moment, tilting his head with a smirk. His gaze found Ryuji and Daichi, who remained on high alert.
Raizen:
"We still have... much work to do."
The corners of Raizen's lips curled slightly. He took a step. But this step... did not touch the floor. The moment his foot met the wood, the surface blackened. Fine, scorched marks spread like a spiderweb. It was as if the floor were carrying not his weight, but the thing inside him.
This time, Ryuji gripped his sword fully.
The Master did not move.
Raizen bowed his head slightly, his eyes flicking to Ryuji for a split second.
Then—
He snapped his fingers.
Nothing happened. At least... not at first glance.
A heartbeat later, a crimson line appeared on the metallic surface of Ryuji's sword. Thin. Silent.
But alive.
The line raced forward to the tip of the blade and stopped. The metal vibrated slightly. Ryuji instinctively pulled the sword back, but it was already too late. The tip of the sword... had melted.
A bead of molten metal hit the floor, hissing as it left a mark on the stone. Silence descended upon the room once more. Raizen lowered his hand, shrugging as if his display were of no consequence.
Raizen:
"Don't worry."
His eyes returned to the Master. The smirk was thinner now.
Raizen:
"If I had wanted to... I wouldn't have missed the target."
---
Following Sakura's departure, Ayoi stood still in the room. She lay on her floor mattress, trying to quiet the buzzing in her mind. An indescribable ache filled her; had she unintentionally been too harsh with her friend? For a moment, she shook her head as if to cast the thought away.
"No, I only warned her for her own good," she whispered into the emptiness.
As she chewed her lip, one part of her wanted to inform the Master, while the other whispered to trust Sakura. While this dilemma tangled her mind like a blind knot, a muffled thud from the Master's room followed by a foreign heat bleeding into the cool corridor cut through her thoughts like a knife.
"Master...?"
Her heart suddenly quickened. Panic spread through her veins like a cold poison. She rushed out of the room and began running down the hallway. Dozens of disaster scenarios clashed in her mind. Just as she reached the wing where the Master's study was located, she skidded to a halt as if hitting an invisible, icy wall.
The air here was rigid. Her eyes met those silvery ones. The woman stood in her white cloak, as calm as a ghost yet just as threatening. Her eyes were locked onto Ayoi's terror-stricken face.
Ayoi:
"Who...are you? What are you doing here?!"
Aella took a step forward. With that single step, the air in the corridor grew feral; an impossible wind surged with enough force to push Ayoi back.
Aella:
"I intend no harm to anyone. Stand aside, little one, and let me find what I seek."
Despite the wind lashing at her like a whip, Ayoi tried to stand tall. She stumbled back a step but did not fall. In that moment, through her wind-swept hair, she caught a glint: a hurricane-shaped, diamond-encrusted, hauntingly elegant gold earring.
The Air Jewel.
Ayoi:
"You enter our place and rummage through our possessions, and then tell me to step aside?"
The tremor in her voice was gone, replaced by a tone of resolve. She narrowed her eyes, shielding her face from the swirling dust and debris as she tried to move forward. However, Aella directed the air with her fingertips as if the invisible element were her servant. The air current hitting Ayoi suddenly shifted direction, pinning the young girl sharply against the corner of the wall.
With one practical motion, Aella blasted her wind toward a heavy dresser nearby. The furniture hovered as if weightless before crashing down in front of Ayoi, trapping her like a cage between the wall and the wood.
Aella issued her final warning through the howling wind.
Aella:
"Do not interfere. Unless you want this... to be your last breath."
Ayoi remained trapped between the weight of the dresser and the coldness of the wall. Every breath she drew was becoming harder due to the pressure created by the wind.
"Wait... don't," she whispered, but her voice merely bounced off the wooden frame.
Aella didn't even look at Ayoi's struggling. Her eyes scanned the hidden compartments and shelves of the corridor one by one. She flicked her hand; the wind in the room reached out like an arm, violently pulling down the paintings and decorative vases on the opposite wall. As the sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the hall, Aella searched for that ancient weight, the hidden energy emitted by the book.
Ayoi gathered all her strength to push the dresser. "Sakura was right," she thought bitterly, "some things cannot be solved with kindness alone!" She braced her shoulders against the furniture and gave it her all, but Aella's wind had nailed the dresser to the floor like an invisible stake. Her eyes filled with tears of rage; she had to get out. She understood what the woman was looking for.
And for that very reason, she hoped she was right in her suspicions;
That the book was with Sakura.
The corridor shook for a moment. It was a very slight, but real tremor. Then, a muffled crack was heard from a distance. As if something had broken.
Then a second sound... sharper this time. Immediately after, the atmospheric pressure changed. The wind lost its direction for a second.
Aella's brows furrowed for the first time. She tilted her head slightly. In that moment, Ayoi felt a small gap in the wind. She took a short, sharp breath.
Aella's gaze locked onto the depths of the corridor. And she smiled.
Aella:
"Very well..."
Her fingers curled slightly, and the wind abruptly retracted. She took a step... then another. With every step, the air in the hallway shifted, as if invisible currents were clearing her path.
Aella:
"At least... the other thing I'm looking for is here."
She lifted her head slightly, her eyes now fixed on the direction of the Master. Simultaneously... the sound of a sudden explosion erupted.
Seconds later, smoke engulfed the area.
Ayoi scrambled up in panic from where she was pinned, her eyes widening with fear. She tried desperately to push the dresser, wanting to stop Aella, but... her struggles were in vain.
---
In the Master's room, the air had long since changed. The smell of burning was no longer hidden. Raizen lifted his head as if hearing an invisible signal.
He smiled.
Raizen:
"It seems... she couldn't find what she was looking for."
The Master's gaze hardened. He furrowed his brows, trying to understand.
Master:
"Who are you talking about?"
Raizen did not answer. He slowly raised his fingers into the air. And snapped them.
Suddenly—
The lamps in the corner of the room exploded. Flames splashed onto the floor, spreading rapidly the moment they touched the dry wood. The curtains ignited instantly, and fine sparks began to rain down from the ceiling beams.
Daichi recoiled in horror.
Daichi:
"Fire—!"
Ryuji moved immediately, trying to get ahead of the flames, but the heat became unbearable within seconds.
Raizen, however, stood his ground.
Motionless.
As if he were the only fixed point in the middle of this chaos.
Raizen (calmly):
"Is it just me, or is this building... a bit too dry?"
A beam cracked with a loud groan. The flames grew. Smoke rose rapidly. Raizen's gaze shifted away from the Master. The fire began to swallow the room. As the smoke thickened, vision blurred. Breathing became difficult; everything was melting into a gray mist.
Ryuji covered his mouth with his arm, squinting as he lunged forward.
Ryuji:
"Master—!"
A beam collapsed with a roar. Daichi instinctively pulled Ryuji back.
Daichi:
"Watch out! We can't see!"
But those were not the real problem.
The air had changed.
There was something within the heat of the fire that did not belong to it. Sharp. Foreign. And... moving.
For a moment, the wind blew in reverse. The flames bent inward. The smoke gathered at a single point. It was as if the room... took a breath, and then exhaled.
There was no explosion.
There was no light.
Only a short, dull wave of pressure, and then... silence.
The flames rose again. The smoke cleared. Ryuji rushed forward. This time, no one stopped him.
"Master!"
No answer came. He stopped when he reached the center of the room. His eyes widened.
The Master... was gone.
Raizen was gone too.
And that foreign presence felt just moments ago—
That, too, had vanished. All that remained was a burning room.
And the heavy, suffocating feeling of being far too late.