Under the relentless pressure of Roswaal's magical barrage, Beatrice—whose mana pool was extremely limited—was quickly suppressed until she could barely lift her head.
"Are you sure you don't need my help?"
"I'm actually quite confident, you know."
In front of her was Roswaal's calculated offensive; behind her was Gojo Satoru, prattling on about nothing.
"Shut up!"
"Is this the time for that?!"
Sensing her mana rapidly depleting, nearly at its breaking point, a flash of anxiety crossed Beatrice's face. Seeing her persistence, Roswaal's tone took on a hint of mockery.
"You certainly are hardworking."
"A pity. A Spirit without a contract can protect nothing—just as you failed to protect the Forbidden Library."
As Roswaal spoke, his fingers flicked gracefully, like a conductor leading an orchestra. The spells previously blocked by Beatrice shifted their trajectories, curving around her to strike directly at Gojo.
Watching the magic converge on him, Gojo let out a yawn.
He knew Beatrice was putting in this much effort primarily to repay him, and perhaps part of her wanted everything to end right here. If she truly died in battle against Roswaal, it would serve as atonement for her failure to guard the library.
But what piqued Gojo's interest was the nature of Roswaal's attacks. They were far too simple.
While Gojo was a novice regarding magic, in the realm of combat—whether it involved mages, swordsmen, or sorcerers—the ultimate goal was always victory or the death of the opponent. Yet, Roswaal's actions didn't reflect that intent.
'Doesn't want to wreck the mansion? Or is it something else?'
Gojo pondered this curiously amidst the wreckage of the study. From the moment the fight started, Roswaal had projected immense pressure, like a rubber band stretched to its limit—always on the verge of snapping, yet held perfectly at that threshold. It felt as if he had another objective entirely.
While Gojo had the leisure to analyze the situation, Beatrice was at her limit. As her final drops of mana vanished, Roswaal's spells finally reached Gojo.
Seeing Gojo about to be hit, Beatrice gritted her teeth and lunged toward him.
"If you're going to die, don't you dare do it in front of Betty!"
Her fair, delicate palm slammed against Gojo's chest.
In the next second, a deep purple magic circle manifested under her hand, imprinting itself on Gojo's chest. Simultaneously, Gojo felt a distinct, unique sensation surge through him—a connection, a contract seeking to bind them together.
BOOM!
An explosion ripped through the already ruined study. The shockwave from the magical collision—much like when Gojo destroyed the library—blasted out the remaining section of the study wall.
Inside the mansion, the group waiting for the talk to finish had been sick with worry. Hearing the thunderous blast, everyone sensed disaster and sprinted toward the study.
Inside the room, Roswaal gave a light wave of his hand, clearing the billowing dust. Two figures emerged: Beatrice and Gojo. Neither looked particularly disheveled; they were simply staring at each other, eye to eye.
"You idiot!"
"Why didn't you dodge?!" Beatrice demanded, fuming.
"I offered to help, and you said it wasn't the time for it," Gojo said, spreading his hands with an innocent blink.
Hearing his explanation, Beatrice felt her blood boil. "I shouldn't have saved you!"
"What if I had died right in front of you?"
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Sigh, what a dishonest child. If I really died in front of you, you'd probably be guilty for the rest of your life." Gojo spoke with absolute certainty, as if he had read her like an open book.
"Ha! Not only are you stupid, you're narcissistic. Who do you think you are to Betty? Why would I feel guilty over you?"
"Don't make me laugh!" Beatrice sneered disdainfully, refuting him without hesitation.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.
An abrupt round of applause interrupted their bickering. They turned in unison to see Roswaal smiling and clapping.
"Truly marvelous."
Beatrice wrinkled her nose and glared at him. "Are we continuing? You should know—if I intend to protect him, you cannot kill him."
"Of course. I wouldn't dream of doubting your abilities, Beatrice. After all, you are different now than you were moments ago. You are now a Spirit with a contractor."
Roswaal spoke with a squinting smile, seemingly returning to his usual self—eccentric accent and all. "Still, it is quite surprising. I didn't expect you to finally find 'That Person' under these circumstances..."
"Has your brain rotted too?"
"When did I ever admit this guy is 'That Person'?! It was a matter of urgency, I just—" Beatrice shouted, flustered.
"Ah, my mistake then. What a shame." Roswaal propped his cheek on his hand, looking genuinely disappointed. "But regardless, since he has contracted with you, we can no longer treat him as an enemy. After all, Beatrice, you are a member of the Mathers family; your contractor is naturally one of our own."
Gojo's eyes narrowed slightly behind his sunglasses. He put on a mock-frightened face and said, "Eh? Is that really okay? That was actually pretty terrifying just now. You aren't just trying to make us lower our guard so you can take another shot at me, are you?"
"To say such a thing about me... it makes me quite sad, Mr. Gojo." Roswaal played along, looking "hurt." Compared to the cold combatant of moments ago, it was impossible to tell which version was the real him.
"Beatrice has lived with the Mathers family for hundreds of years. Every head of the household has loved her. Right, Beatrice?"
Beatrice was currently annoyed by both Roswaal and Gojo. She wanted to argue, but the words wouldn't come. Over the centuries, even if she didn't interact with the family often, they had always taken care of her and granted her requests. She was the one who simply chose to stay in the library.
Just then, the battered study door was shoved open by Ram. Behind her were Rem, Subaru, and the others. The sight of the wrecked room and the massive hole in the wall spoke volumes.
Felt nearly tripped over her own feet. If the situation weren't so tense, she would have lunged forward to grab Gojo's leg and beg him to stop causing trouble. The first hole hadn't even been patched, and now he had demolished the Count's study.
This was no longer a problem her meager savings could solve. This was a matter of whether they'd keep their heads. Thinking of Old Man Rom waiting for them in the capital, Felt's heart felt leaden.
Ram and Rem ran to Roswaal's side simultaneously.
"Lord Roswaal!" they cried in unison, standing before him and glaring at Gojo with pure hostility. Rem, especially, suddenly brandished a morning star that seemed to appear out of thin air.
"Beatrice, is there a magic that lets you hide a giant morning star and pull it out whenever you want?" Gojo whispered to the girl at his side.
"Don't ask Betty such stupid questions." Beatrice turned her head away, clearly done with him.
"Satoru, what the hell is happening?" Subaru and Felt rushed to Gojo's side.
"It's over... we're dead. We're never going home," Felt muttered. "All that hard-earned money, and I won't even get to spend it." Her despondent rambling actually made Gojo want to laugh.
"It's fine, don't worry. As for your money, I'll help you spend it all when we get back." Gojo comforted her with a grin.
Emilia stood by, feeling torn. One side was her supporter, the other her savior. She didn't know which side to take.
"Roswaal, what is going on?" she asked tentatively.
"It's nothing. We just got a bit carried away celebrating the fact that Beatrice can now live a free life."
"Right, Satoru-kun? Beatrice?" Roswaal smiled as if the previous conflict had never happened.
Aside from Gojo and Beatrice, everyone else was stunned by this explanation. They had run here because they heard the sounds of a violent battle, and now he was calling it "excitement"? Who was he kidding?
Even Ram and Rem struggled to keep their expressions neutral.
"Yes, yes. Roswaal is right. There's no conflict between us at all. Right?" Gojo rubbed Beatrice's head, laughing.
"Who cares about you? Betty is going back." Beatrice huffed and turned to leave.
"The library is gone, where exactly are you 'going back' to?"
"DON'T YOU DARE MENTION THAT AGAIN!"
Watching Gojo and Beatrice bicker, the onlookers were speechless. Today's events had spiraled far beyond their imagination. Felt, especially, had been on an emotional rollercoaster. One moment she was dead meat, the next, everything was fine.
"Miss Ram, Miss Rem, it seems the mansion's repairs will be quite a burden on you," Gojo said, waving at the sisters while looking at the broken wall.
"Don't worry about it. I'll have specialized craftsmen here to fix it in a few days," Roswaal waved it off as a minor issue. "More importantly, let us enjoy dinner. Today is a day worth celebrating."
Despite the chaos, the twin sisters managed to prepare a lavish feast in record time. After dinner, Ram led Beatrice to the guest wing to arrange a room for her. With the library gone, Beatrice had no choice but to stay in the main house.
Felt took the opportunity to drag Gojo into her room.
"What was wrong with you today?! Do you have any idea what you're doing?!" she hissed, grabbing his collar. "That's a Count! A noble! The Kingdom's Chief Magician! Even if you're strong, you could lose your life!"
"Wait, wait," Gojo said, knowing exactly what she was worried about. "Don't panic. Do I really look like an idiot to you?"
"You're not exactly winning any 'Genius of the Year' awards," Felt snapped.
"Tsk. I think you and Beatrice would have a lot to talk about," Gojo joked. "Seriously, don't be so tense. I don't do things without a reason."
"Destroying the man's library and tearing down his walls isn't 'without a reason'?"
"First of all, I didn't 'tear down' the walls. Neither of those holes was my fault," Gojo explained. He wasn't taking the blame for those.
"That's not the point! The point is—"
"Exactly, it's not the point. So don't worry. Not only should you not worry about danger or Roswaal hurting you... or making you pay or taking your life..." Gojo paused for effect.
"I guarantee that soon, Roswaal will be calling you 'Lady Felt.' How about that? A Count calling you 'Lady'—doesn't that get you a little excited?"