Chapter 6:

  Rin was riding her bike at a terrifying speed through the streets. The redness in her cheeks was visible even beneath her helmet. Molinder sat behind her, appearing to enjoy the ride.

  “This bike is definitely faster than a horse,” he said.

  Rin replied sarcastically, “Yes, because I’m pushing it to its limits!”

  Molinder looked at her spontaneously. “Why?”

  Rin shouted, frustrated, “Because I have a boy with me!”

  Then she whispered with annoyance, the reason unclear even to herself: “A handsome boy, to be precise…”

  Moli spoke with sudden seriousness, “You didn’t object the first time I asked you.”

  Rin was taken aback by his reaction. “I was only joking. I didn’t object because I noticed your clothes too…”

  She added reproachfully, her voice battling the wind, “The shabby ones! The frozen ones! The old ones! They make you look like cosplay characters! of course I'll take to buy a new ones! ”

  Moli murmured in despair, “I really don’t understand half of what you’re saying.”

  The two of them fell silent as Rin entered the highway. The wind slammed violently against her helmet, but Moli didn’t seem affected at all. In fact, he had resisted wearing a helmet at first until she finally convinced him that the police would laugh at him if he tried to explain magic.

  Rin broke the silence, trying to recall something, wiping the dust from her memory.

  “I think I heard you say my father was a sorcerer… what does that mean?”

  Moli turned his head toward her, having been watching the passing scenery. He said, “There are levels to controlling magic. There’s the magician who can see magic and influence it. Then there’s the wizard, who reaches deeper sources and works harder to learn methods of controlling magic. And finally, the sorcerer…”

  He paused.

  “…the elite of the magical world. Chosen humans born as raw weapons—fertile energy and fast adaptation. There aren’t many of them, to be fair to your father. They can't be counted on one hand. But there aren’t many of them… at least not from what we knew in our era.”

  He added, “And whoever killed your father and brother is likely a sorcerer as well—from the Katakai clan.”

  Rin spoke after a moment of hesitation, “D-Do you know who was behind their murder?”

  Molinder moved closer to her. “Do you mean someone specific?”

  She nodded.

  He continued, “Yes… we found his head in front of the warehouse. I wonder who killed him… but whoever that person was, he arrived too late.”

  .........

  The cave was vast. It had no walls—only the darkness itself, spreading its wings across the space. In the middle of that void, a stone pillar rose majestically from the abyss, reaching toward a level where its surface was touched by pale moonlight seeping through invisible cracks above.

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  On the pillar sat a young woman, head bowed, her hair concealing her features. She wore a thin silver fabric robe that barely repelled the moonlight, merely concealing what lay beneath. Her hands and feet were bound before her with iron chains that descended into the depths of the cave.

  Then a voice echoed through the void, circling her like a deafening curse:

  “Emma Maso… why did you betray us?”

  The girl did not answer. The voice returned, stronger this time:

  “Won’t you defend yourself?”

  The girl suddenly smiled, and let out a mocking laugh.

  “Thank you for your concern in preserving my rights!”

  The voice calmed smoothly.

  “so you choosed silence.”

  As if she had obeyed it for a moment, her laughter faded. She lifted her head, revealing her cold face. She was a blonde girl with green eyes, her long golden hair flowing over her like a warm cloak shielding her from the cave’s chill.

  Her gaze lifted upward, and she noticed columns rising beyond the height of the pillar she was chained to. Their tops vanished into the darkness, encircling her like a ring of towering sentinels.

  She opened her mouth at last, speaking with cold composure:

  “I will say only one thing. The System is in danger…”

  The voice cut her off, matching her cold tone:

  “Yes. You are the danger.”

  She shook her head rigidly, as if the air itself offended her.

  “Atakai Jiro,” she said. “Didn’t you swear to protect him? That is all I did. I defended him when I found him threatened.”

  The voice snapped harshly:

  “Don’t play the fool! The magical pact with him was annulled by mutual agreement—months ago!”

  Emma spoke with clear disdain:

  “Do you know why... I always say that the Masonic Order is in danger?”

  Her lips curled into a smile, not forced—like someone genuinely enjoying the trial.

  “Because it abandoned the System. Many of you… your only loyalty…”

  She slapped her palm against her belly:

  “…is to your bellies!”

  “W-How did you break the seal?! Didn’t you bind it with magic?”

  Emma rose, swaying, as the iron chains slipped off the pillar and fell into the depths with heavy, rapid thuds—as if they weighed tons. Her neck cracked with satisfaction.

  “Even with the twenty sorcerers you have, I am still an anchor,” she said. “So do not overestimate yourselves.”

  She tossed the last chain from her hand.

  “This timid magic will not stop me.”

  She gestured behind her with a relaxed thumb.

  “And neither will the infernal executioner.”

  Suddenly, a massive black figure appeared behind her—over three meters tall. A leather hood stitched with copper wires covered his head like coagulated blood. He did not move. He only let out a low growl, accompanied by the weight of his breath.

  Emma lifted her head toward them and spoke with provocative reproach:

  “What now? You will simply lose me, and all of this is because of your foolishness. Did you really think I would surrender to the fate you drew for me?!”

  The voice replied with sudden calm:

  “So you admit you are a traitor.”

  She shook her head simply.

  “No. I remain loyal to the All-Seeing Eye. But many of you are not even connected to it.”

  She raised her head further, revealing a moonlit spot at the top of the cave—where marble had crawled over the soil, forming a corner that looked like part of a hidden palace. There, a man in his forties, his yellow beard thick, sat upon a massive silver throne.

  She stared at him intently, then at two shadows settled behind him—shadows that seemed like the fabric of death.

  She finally smiled and said:

  “It would be better if you did something, Your Majesty, because the Resurrection has already struck midnight.”

  She closed her eyes and clapped her hands.

  “Then… farewell.”

  In the next moment, she vanished.

  The executioner’s arms fell from his shoulders as he tried to embrace the empty space.

  He remained standing, but he roared in pain—a sudden cry that shook the cave’s rocks. His arms grew back again with strange softness, flesh climbing over bone until skin covered it. He bowed his head, and silence returned.

  The king rose from his throne with heavy reluctance. He looked down at the columns surrounding the center and, in a sharp, booming voice—despite his relaxed expression—said:

  “The Judgment Chamber, the King’s Chamber… two faces of the same coin. This is what my father used to tell me when I was a child.”

  He pointed with his thumb toward the ground in a gesture of dismissal.

  “But he was wrong… you fools know that. You are nothing but old men who watch over the System’s stability and its justice.”

  With a disgusted expression, he continued:

  “And apparently, you have forgotten that. Perhaps because you’ve sat too long on those stone pillars.”

  He shouted angrily, the rage rising in his voice even as his face remained unmoving, like a mask of stiffness.

  “No! No! No! There are only five anchors in this world. We had three of them. And thanks to your commendable efforts…”

  He added, cold as frost:

  “They are now two.”

  He pointed forward, and the two shadows vanished into the darkness. Seconds later, the king heard the elders’ screams—bones shattering and flesh tearing.

  He gripped his chin tightly and muttered:

  “Fuck me…”