Backlit against the rising sun, Rein was reduced to a stark silhouette—his expression swallowed entirely by shadow.
Yet... what was clearest in the elderly librarian’s eyes was the searing pain radiating from the center of her chest—and the sight of the dark shadows clinging to her cloak cracking, shattering, and dissolving into dust.
Darkness Armor—the defensive spell she had taken such pride in—proved as fragile as parchment before that blade.
It offered no resistance at all.
A single strike had severed the active spell circuit she was weaving and shattered her Stratosphere-tier defense in the same instant.
“Truly worthy... of the legendary ‘Cursed Sword’...”
Belle gritted her teeth, dark blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. She hadn’t been careless... she swore she hadn’t. Every casting rhythm, every defensive placement—all were honed and refined from countless life-or-death battles on the battlefield.
What she failed to predict…
…was the utterly inhuman tactical mindset of a first-year student.
The unconventional modification of spells, the suicidal willingness to trade damage, the micro-second timing calculations, and the deployment of an unorthodox weapon at point-blank range...
Coupled with the vast gap in mana and magical power, her overwhelming superiority in resources had ironically blinded her judgment.
It is said that a battle between mages is like a game of chess; a single misstep can cost the entire board.
A self-deprecating sneer twisted her lips.
‘The Unpredictable Variable.’
Exactly as the Oracle’s prophecy had warned.
Pushed to the absolute brink... only one path to survival remained. Eyes once filled with arrogance now burned with madness. She had no choice but to play her ‘final trump card.’
How utterly pathetic...
“Hmph…”
The elderly woman in the blood-soaked robe scoffed weakly.
Her left hand trembled as it closed around Night Fall’s hilt, trying to wrench it free with her last strength.
"I wouldn't..." Rein warned, his voice flat. “You avoided the heart,” Rein said flatly.
“But your right lung is punctured. Pull that sword out now, or move too suddenly, and it will fill with blood.”
A beat.
“You’ll drown in minutes.”
“Hah… hah… khk!” Belle laughed even as blood frothed from her mouth. Her eyes—webbed red with burst capillaries—glared at Rein like a demon’s. She let her left hand slip off the black blade’s hilt… then raised her index finger toward the sky.
“The night may be over… but I won’t let you see the sun of a new day. Go to hell!”
Rein narrowed his eyes. Gooseflesh rippled up his spine.
That murderous sensation—
he knew it better than anyone.
Because it was the same trick he’d been using on others all night.
WHUP—! WHUP—! WHUP—! WHUP—! WHUP—!
Five pitch-black magic rings bloomed in midair, forming a five-point star—closing in from every direction.
Delay Casting.
Five-directional.
“Let’s see you dodge this, kid,” Librarian Belle grinned through blood.
Rein clenched his teeth, ready to spring—
But then…
A deep violet ring silently appeared beneath his feet.
“Shadow Bind.”
His shadow on the ground liquefied into a viscous, tar-like chain, snapping up to coil around his ankles and calves—tight as hellforged shackles.
Too late.
His legs wouldn’t move.
No mana left.
Five Darkness Arrows were charging to full output—black tips aimed straight at his head and torso.
In that instant, Rein felt the cold breath of death on the back of his neck.
“DIE!”
FWOOM—!
All five dark arrows fired at once—ripping toward a target with no escape—
But then—
“Aeris Cyclone, Defende et Move!”
BOOOOM—!!!
A scream of wind detonated like a typhoon tearing through a city. An immense mass of air spun around the boy at supersonic speed, forming an emerald vortex-wall so dense the inside vanished from sight.
The five black arrows slammed into the storm barrier—
and couldn’t pierce it.
The cyclone’s sheer rotational force shredded the darkness spells into fragments, ripping them apart and blowing the explosion outward until nothing remained.
Rein stood frozen at the calm center of the storm.
His eyes widened.
He recognized that spell.
Earlier tonight, the spellsword named Rowan had used it against him.
A Stratosphere-tier wind defense—rare to the point of absurdity.
“Tornado Armor.”
Dust and rubble were ripped off the ground, carved into a crater by the storm’s wake.
Belle went deathly pale. Her lips trembled as she watched her final trump card erased—effortlessly.
Rein and Belle looked up at the same time.
Above the ruined training yard, someone was descending slowly—carried by wind like a loyal retinue.
Flame-red hair streamed in the air.
An elven woman in a white instructor’s uniform trimmed in crimson—
Master Rachel.
Her red eyes locked onto Belle with glacial calm. But her next words were aimed deliberately at the boy standing behind her.
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“This is still the Academy,” she said coolly.
“Don’t mistake your teachers for spectators, Rein.”
Rein flinched. The words stuck in his throat. He stared at her back—his feelings shifting.
Right…
Seeing Master Kael—a Stratosphere priest—die last night had warped his judgment.
He’d underestimated the Healing faculty, assuming healers weren’t built for combat.
He’d forgotten—
Monsters like Master Chloe existed.
And the Healing Department was never going to have only one of them.
Rachel touched down as softly as falling snow.
Her boots met stone without a sound.
She walked past Rein and straight toward Belle, who lay there breathing shallowly—already fading.
A crushing pressure rolled off the elf woman.
The air itself trembled—as if reality might crack.
“To think you fooled me,” Rachel said.
Her voice was level—
and a thousand times more terrifying than a shout.
“Hk… khk.” Belle tried to reply—only to cough up a thick clot of blood first. Her bloodshot eyes glared forward like a cornered beast deciding whether to go feral.
“Master Rachel—if this is under control, I’m going to check on Ingrid!” Rein said, not waiting for permission. He gritted his teeth through the pain, tapped his foot—
ready to bolt for the basement door.
But then—
A small figure in glasses emerged from the Canteen side, face blank with confusion as she peered into the ruined yard.
“Rein? Why are you out here? And what was that explosion just now… what happened?” Ingrid asked, bewildered.
In one hand, she held a steaming kettle. Hot vapor curled into the air.
Rein froze.
His mouth fell open.
“Ingrid…?” he blurted. “You—are you okay?”
For the first time tonight, even a hardened calculator like Dr. Rhys went completely offline.
“Huh? I’m fine,” Ingrid said, lifting the kettle as proof. “I just went to get hot water from the Canteen. The hot water in the Vault ran out, you know.”
She frowned at him.
“Why are you making that face? I’m not clumsy enough to spill boiling water on myself.”
“Ah…” Rein scratched his head roughly, his brain trying to process this S-rank luck.
So she survived because she went to… boil water?
Seriously?
“So… what even happened?” Ingrid asked innocently as she walked closer. “Oh—Master Rachel’s here. Did you catch the culprit?”
Then Ingrid’s eyes widened so hard they nearly popped when she saw Belle—soaked in blood—collapsed in front of Rachel.
“This…” Her kettle hand trembled.
Rachel gave a small nod and answered for Rein.
“Belle is the real culprit, Ingrid. Step back.”
“W-what?” Ingrid stammered. “But she was just asleep in the Vault a minute ago… When you left, I thought I should have hot water ready to wipe her down, so I—”
She tried to reconstruct events, dazed—then snapped her gaze to the woman drowning in blood.
“Why would you do that, Miss Belle?!”
The old woman’s mouth curled—blood staining her lips.
“Hmph… In truth, I planned to erase you quietly in the Vault,” she hissed. “But it would compromise the mission… khk! …so I let you go for now.”
“An infiltration mission,” Rachel said, voice like ice. “How long have you been embedded in the Academy?”
“Embedded…?” Belle’s laugh came out warped. “The real old woman named Belle?”
She laughed hoarsely.
“She’s been dead for a long time.”
Her shaking left hand reached for the saber Night Fall, still lodged through her chest.
“So you’ve been impersonating Librarian Belle all along,” Rachel said, folding her arms, pity in her gaze. “Who are you?”
“Who cares?” Belle snarled.
Scrrrk—
She began to pull the black sword out of her chest, slowly. Dark blood seeped around the blade.
“Stop,” Rachel warned.
“If you pull it out like that, you’ll die in seconds. And I won’t heal you this time.”
“Heal…?” Belle raised her head.
Her eyes turned pitch-black.
“You think I need counterfeit healing magic from an elf like you?!”
SHNK—!
She ripped the blade free in one violent yank. Black blood erupted like a fountain, accompanied by a howl that didn’t sound human. She flung the saber to the ground like trash, arms dropping to her sides.
And then—
The wound on her chest moved.
Thousands of black fibers erupted from the torn flesh like demonic roots.
They writhed, burrowed, and stitched the wound together at terrifying speed as her muscles twisted—swelling, warping, expanding.
“Rein! Take Ingrid and fall back—NOW!!” Rachel shouted, springing backward.
BOOOOM—!!!
The explosion thundered deafeningly. The stone wall behind them collapsed in an instant as the figure in the black cloak expanded—growing at a speed no human body should allow.
Flesh tore apart, exposing bulging masses of dark crimson muscle. Its human shape vanished completely… replaced by a colossal, living mass of meat that inspired pure horror.
Dozens of writhing tentacles burst forth from its back. Wherever they lashed out, the world turned pitch-black under the corrosive curse. Massive stone pillars were severed in a single strike, snapping like dried branches.
Rein seized Ingrid’s wrist and yanked her backward with all his strength.
“Run!”
“N-no… that’s—a Cursed Abomination!” Ingrid whispered, voice shaking, her face drained white.
“What?” Rein snapped while running, glancing back at the rampaging monster.
“A Cursed Abomination!" Ingrid choked out.
“Curse-type warlocks have a forbidden incantation,”
“It’s meant to warp enemies into monsters—but casting it on yourself spikes both dark mana and physical power instantly.”
“But if you cast it on yourself, it spikes both dark mana and physical power instantly—at the cost of the curse devouring you until you die!”
“So that’s it…” Rein let out a low laugh.
“She injected herself with a G-Virus to become the final boss”
A beat.
“Costly investment.”
Ingrid blinked at the bizarre term, but terror didn’t leave her time to ask.
“But it’s insanely dangerous, Rein! That destructive power… even if you brought an entire platoon—or a full high-tier adventuring party—it’s not guaranteed you’d win! Shouldn’t we help Master Rachel?!”
Ahead, Master Rachel looked tiny compared to the towering abomination. She was leaping aside again and again—dodging the frenzy-whipped tentacles with razor speed.
Rein slowed to a stop, shrugged once—and turned back.
“No need.”
He pointed upward.
Above the devastated courtyard, morning light began to spill over the ruins—
and there, a colossal spiral of wind was forming, compressing into a single point.
It sharpened into a cone, rotation accelerating toward a critical threshold.
“That spell…!” Ingrid gasped, eyes wide.
A Master Stratosphere-tier offensive spell.
Something you almost never saw outside of records.
Rein folded his arms, eyes tracking the forming storm.
Figures.
Old habits died hard.
In every ridiculous survival game he’d ever played,
the final phase was never about skill—
it was about handing you something obscene
and asking whether you survived long enough
to pull the trigger.
The red-haired elf instructor stopped moving.
Amid the storm of dust and incoming demon-tentacles, her tall, slender figure stood unwavering—cloak hem snapping in the gale.
She slowly raised her right hand above her head…
“Boreas, Dominus Aquilonis… Descende et Perfora.”
Then drew it down with a small, effortless flick—
like a conductor closing a symphony.
“Boreas Lance.”
She spoke the final command softly.
“Perish.”
KABOOM—!!!
A titanic wind-drill plunged from the sky and struck the cursed abomination head-on.
The impact cracked the world—so violent it erased sound itself. The lance bored straight through the three-story mass of living flesh, carving a clean, gaping hole.
Then, the remainder was caught by millions upon millions of invisible wind-blades, ground into slurry—
as if fed into a planet-sized grinder.
BOOOOM—!!!
The shockwave gouged the earth, blasting a crater deeper than fifteen feet. The left-side walkway and stone wall simply vanished—obliterated. Shreds of the cursed abomination scattered in every direction before beginning to dissolve into black motes.
Silence returned to the yard.
Plap.
A wet splatter landed on someone’s head—shattering the quiet.
Rein and Ingrid, standing at the edge of the courtyard, looked… beyond miserable. Their hair and shoulders were smeared with thick, tar-black chunks of flesh raining down like a disgusting drizzle.
Ingrid stood rigid. She pushed up glasses now coated so dark she could barely see. She still clutched the hot-water kettle tightly—
except it was no longer silver.
It was pitch-black.
“Ugh…” Rein’s face twisted in pure disgust. He lifted his left hand and flicked a sticky lump off his hair. It slowly dissolved into faint smoke on the air.
He looked from the giant crater to his own condition, then muttered.
“What kind of absurd firepower is that…”
He let out a long breath and brushed black grime off the borrowed cloak.
“This isn’t a grenade launcher.”
His voice flattened even further.
“This is a five-hundred-pound warhead.”
These entries expand the lore and mechanics introduced in this chapter.
Completely optional—read only if you enjoy diving deeper into the system.
Magic Codex
Boreas Lance
Type: Strategic Siege Magic
Codex Tier: Master Stratosphere (Class: Strategic Siege Magic)
Element: Wind (Ultra-High Compression / Vortex)
Casting Method: High-Chant Vocal Incantation
Mana Cost: Massive (Requires Master-level Mana Pool)
Category: Ultimate Destruction / Anti-Aberration
Description
A catastrophic wind-element spell invoking the concept of Boreas, the Northern Wind God. It manifests as a titanic, drill-shaped projectile composed of spiraling air currents compressed to critical density. The spell functions as a dual-phase destruction engine: first acting as a kinetic penetrator to breach heavy defenses, then expanding into a localized shredding vortex upon entry. Due to its sheer destructive output, it is rarely sanctioned for use outside of high-threat monster suppression or siege warfare.
Incantation
Boreas, Dominus Aquilonis… Descende et Perfora.
“Boreas, Lord of the North Winds… descend and pierce.”
Activation Key: Perish.
Mechanism
– Phase 1 (Drill): Compresses a storm-scale volume of air into a descending conical spiral. The narrowing tip accelerates rotational velocity to supersonic levels, granting extreme piercing capability against magical barriers and physical armor.
– Phase 2 (Blender): Upon penetration, the compressed air expands explosively, releasing millions of invisible micro-wind blades. This creates a "disintegration zone" that grinds the target’s matter into slurry at a molecular level.
– Yield Estimate: Impact generates a shockwave and crater consistent with an Earth-standard 500lb High-Explosive Warhead.
Range / Deployment
– Vertical strike from above
– AoE damage spreads in a radius of ~20–30 feet
– Best used in open environments due to wide-area destruction
Strengths
– Absolute Penetration: Capable of bypassing or shattering most conventional shields (including Darkness Armor)
– Regeneration Counter: The continuous shredding nature of the wind blades negates biological regeneration of targets (e.g., Cursed Abominations)
Weaknesses
– High Casting Time: Requires a full chant and a significant charge-up period (Telegraphed Attack).
– Collateral Risk: The shockwave and debris radius make it unsuitable for close-quarters combat or rescue missions involving hostages.
Notable Usage
– Cast by Master Rachel
Narrative Note
Rein, witnessing the spell, compared its destructive yield to a 500-pound warhead, a term from Earth-based military weaponry. This emphasizes the sheer scale of devastation achievable by a Master-tier wind spell in full form
Curse
Cursed Abomination
Classification: Aberrant Lifeform / Curse-Warped Chimera
Threat Level: Expert Stratosphere (Scenario Dependent)
Origin: Forbidden Dark Arts (Self-Inflicted Curse)
Description
A horrific biological mutation resulting from a practitioner casting a "Consumption Curse" upon themselves. By sacrificing their humanity and sanity, the user triggers an explosive evolutionary leap driven by dark mana. The resulting entity is a mindless engine of destruction—a mass of hyper-regenerative flesh and corruptive energy that exists solely to eradicate everything in its vicinity.
Mechanism of Transformation
– Catalyst: Activation of a specific forbidden incantation that reverses the curse's flow inward.
– Mutation: Dark mana forces rapid, uncontrolled cellular mitosis. The subject’s body expands violently, shedding human features for combat-oriented appendages (tentacles, claws, hardened carapace).
– Sustainability: The entity is sustained by "Black Curse Fibers"—a parasitic magical tissue that stitches wounds and replaces destroyed cells in seconds. However, this process essentially consumes the host's life force until self-destruction occurs.
Combat Traits
– Hyper-Regeneration: Capable of healing fatal wounds almost instantly unless the core is destroyed or the damage exceeds the regeneration rate (Total Atomization).
– Corrosive Touch: Tentacles secrete a high-concentration dark acid capable of dissolving physical matter and eroding mana shields.
– Magic Immunity: The curse-saturated flesh acts as a dampener, nullifying damage from Troposphere and Primary Stratosphere spells.
Meta References Codex
G-Virus
Type: Pop-Culture Reference (Origin: Resident Evil 2)
Mentioned By: Rein
A fictional mutagenic virus from the Resident Evil video game series, first appearing in Resident Evil 2. The
G-Virus is known for causing extreme, grotesque mutations, often transforming the host into a monstrous "final boss"-style creature with enhanced physical power—but at the cost of irreversible degeneration.
Rein uses the term sarcastically when witnessing Belle’s transformation into a monstrous abomination due to a forbidden Curse-type incantation:
Context & Implication:
– The transformation is caused by a Cursed Abomination, which forcibly boosts dark mana and physical power at the cost of one’s sanity and life.
– Rein’s comment likens this to injecting a powerful, irreversible mutagen—just like the G-Virus.
– The comparison is darkly humorous, implying the situation is as absurd and horrifying as fighting a boss in a survival horror game.
Notes:
– Likely referring to William Birkin from Resident Evil 2, who mutates progressively after infecting himself with the G-Virus.
– The line “Costly investment.” reflects Rein’s ironic tone—acknowledging the power-up, while hinting at its unsustainable cost.
Grenade Launcher
Type: Pop?Culture Reference / Combat Analogy
Mentioned By: Rein
A heavy explosive weapon commonly featured in modern military and survival?horror games, most notably the Resident Evil series. Grenade launchers are typically used as a last?resort solution against large, heavily mutated enemies—often referred to as “boss monsters.”
Rein references a grenade launcher implicitly when comparing Belle’s transformation to a horror?game scenario, immediately after likening her to a G?Virus final boss. The implication is clear: the enemy has escalated beyond normal combat parameters and now requires overwhelming firepower.
Notes:
– Most strongly associated with Resident Evil 2 and later entries, where grenade launchers are iconic tools against late?stage mutations.
500-Pound Warhead
Type: Earth-Based Military Reference
Mentioned By: Rein
A military explosive term from Earth, used to describe a powerful warhead—typically air-dropped or missile-delivered—capable of causing massive destruction. A 500-pound warhead can level structures, gouge terrain, and create large-scale shockwaves, often resulting in a blast crater over 10–15 feet deep.
Context & Implication:
After witnessing Master Rachel's Boreas Lance annihilate part of the courtyard—shattering the stone walls and blowing a massive crater into the earth—Rein compares the aftermath to a 500-pound warhead from Earth military history.
Not all battles are meant to be won—
some exist only to show you where you stand.
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— Re:Naissance