Unbroken Shackles (Part 5)
Lewena's hands trembled violently as she looked down at the object her subordinate had handed her.
"...Are you certain? You truly found this in Revrant?"
"Yes, Guildmaster. I must apologize for looking through it without prior permission, but it bore such an uncanny resemblance to the keepsake you hold..."
"There is no need to apologize, nor to explain yourself. A find like this... why, I feel as though bowing to you on my knees wouldn't be gratitude enough!"
Cradled in the guildmaster's shaking hands was a soft blue hair ribbon. Wrapped around her left wrist like a bracelet was its identical twin—a faded strip of blue cloth she had worn like a protective talisman for years. Anyone looking upon the two pieces would immediately recognize that, length aside, every weave and stitch matched down to the finest detail.
This was no ordinary merchandise handled by the merchant guild. It was a relic of the past, harboring memories long thought lost—the first tangible trace of the daughter Lewena had searched for with every breath in her body.
"So you were there... You truly were at the Academy."
Until now, she had possessed neither hard evidence nor even a reasonable suspicion. The fragile hypothesis that a child of that age might be enrolled at the Academy had been her sole lead, but now, an undeniable piece of physical proof rested in her palm. It was only a simple ribbon, yet no evidence could be more conclusive. Unlike the creeping despair that had constantly whispered her daughter might no longer be of this world, a vivid ray of hope finally pierced through the dark.
Yet the subordinate spoke again, tempering the moment with caution. "I understand your joy, Guildmaster, but there is a complication."
"A complication?"
"The owner of this ribbon appears to be entangled in a very troublesome affair."
The Count Coutelli household—and the female student their knights had abducted.
Sylvia... You wretched girl, you dared to trick me?
Count Coutelli's blood ran cold. He had wondered why she had agreed to the engagement ceremony so meekly. Because she was an illegitimate child, practically no one in the estate knew Sylvia's face, a fact that had now dealt him a fatal blow. Worse still, the person standing in her place was none other than the young lady of House Lantana. Her social stature was leagues beyond anything a mere count could hope to confront.
Even so, the count strained to maintain an outward facade of composure as he addressed her.
"Lady Renias, for you to indulge in such childish pranks... it seems you are still young at heart. Where is Sylvia?"
"And why on earth should I tell you that?"
"Because my daughter's engagement ceremony must proceed properly, of course."
If he laid so much as a finger on her, it would ignite an all-out war with the Empire's Lantana Ducal Family—an endeavor that, for his house, would be nothing short of striking a boulder with an egg. Thus, the count deftly pivoted the conversation, focusing on the fact that Sylvia had dragged Renias into the fold.
"Furthermore, this is a sacred venue where another man's daughter is to be betrothed, informal though it may be. Is it becoming of a noble lady to deceive people in this manner?"
The matter was not yet settled. She was currently obstructing an engagement ceremony under the guise of the bride, giving him just enough leverage to turn the tide. If he framed her as an uninvited interloper who barged into a noble family's private ceremony, he could manufacture a shred of legitimacy. Neither the Principality nor the Empire could easily fault him for ejecting a trespasser.
"Tell me, Count," Renias replied coolly, "is it customary for you to employ your knights in kidnapping to arrange an engagement? And an Academy student, no less?"
"Hah! Quite the bold tongue. Do you intend to stir up trouble with such baseless accusations, relying purely on your family name...?"
Tired of his evasions, Renias unleashed a blast of mana.
BOOM!
With a deafening roar, a brilliant flash of light sheared through one side of the ceremonial stage. The decorated platform collapsed in a heap of splintered timber and dust, shattering the solemn proceedings in an instant.
"Three knights cut across the festival night market," Renias said, her voice dropping to an icy chill. "Every one of them belonged to the Coutelli Count family. Don't bother making excuses. You had better tell me where Henna is right now."
The count had intended to brush her presence off by claiming she was merely a school friend attending as a guest, but Renias spoke as though she had witnessed the abduction firsthand. Had he feigned complete ignorance, no outside party could have intervened, but now a direct witness to the kidnapping stood before him. Under these circumstances, the estate was no longer a place for vows. Only one option remained.
"Dispose of that wench!"
He had to draw steel and eliminate the witness. No matter how high the status of a Lantana daughter was, all would be well if she was buried so deep that no trace could ever be found.
Blades scraped from scabbards in unison as the knights lunged toward Renias.
Should she have turned and fled the moment that knight muttered the order to dispose of her? Should she have sprinted away the instant those men blocked her path on the festival grounds? Was it her own fault for cutting across that vacant lot just to take a shortcut?
She didn't know anymore. She couldn't tell where it had all gone wrong.
She shouldn't have let those knights ambush her while she was browsing the night market. The second she felt something was off, she should have turned on her heel and run. Forget shortcuts—she should have known how dangerous dark alleys were and stuck to the crowded, well-lit thoroughfares.
...No. What use is regretting any of that now? In the end, I'm the one who was careless.
Henna wept silently, having overheard every word exchanged between the knight and the man who appeared to be the head of the count's house.
I'm so sorry, Sylvia...
With a gag stuffed tightly between her teeth, she couldn't even whisper the words aloud, repeating them only within the confines of her despairing mind. Their goal was to lure Sylvia to the Coutelli estate and force her into an engagement. And it wasn't so that she could live a happy married life; they planned to sell off her maidenhood in a sham union and ruthlessly cast her aside afterward.
If only Sylvia stayed away, she would be safe. But gentle and self-sacrificing as Sylvia was, there was no chance she would ignore this. She would probably show up with an awkward, apologetic smile, saying she was sorry for dragging Henna into trouble, willingly walking straight into an obvious trap.
The certainty of it tore at Henna's heart. Unable to change a thing, she could only curse her own helplessness, weeping bitter tears in the stifling dark.
—Who goes th—Guh!
The sudden gasp of the guard outside collapsing jolted Henna's ears. Could it be? Had Sylvia already arrived?
"Mmph! Mmm-mph!"
Why did you come, you idiot?! Run! Turn around and get out of here right now!
Henna screamed at the top of her lungs from the depths of the pitch-black basement, but the gag muffled her desperate cries into unintelligible grunts. Seconds later, the heavy cellar door creaked open.
At the sound of the hinges, Henna squeezed her eyes shut, wishing it were all a nightmare. She prayed that Sylvia hadn't come—that this was merely someone arriving to torture her in retaliation, or to force her into luring Sylvia out. Anything would be better than Sylvia walking into this snare.
"Hold on, Henna."
It was a woman's voice, but it wasn't Sylvia's. Who could it possibly be?
Snip.
The ropes binding her wrists and ankles fell away, and the cloth gag was pulled from her mouth. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Henna finally recognized her savior—and the shock left her completely speechless. Standing before her was the last person she ever expected to see.
"Senia? How are you...?"
"Explanations later. We need to get out of here right now."
Henna had no idea how Senia had managed to track her to the count's estate. But whatever the reason, this was her chance to escape. Forcing her stiff, aching limbs to move, Henna leaned heavily against Senia's shoulder as they moved toward the exit.
Suddenly, the oppressive darkness of the cellar gave way to a glaring, unnatural brilliance that rapidly illuminated every corner of the room.
"Ignition stones?!"
Senia instantly recognized the source of the blinding glare, but before they could react, a thunderous explosion tore through the basement, bringing the stone ceiling crashing down around them.
"Guh!"
"Aaargh!"
The most conventional tactic against a formidable opponent—particularly a mage—was a war of attrition. The strategy was simple: drag out the engagement until their mana ran completely dry. Most mages relied heavily on concentrated firepower, expending their magical reserves in explosive bursts akin to an all-out sprint rather than a measured marathon. If pushed into burning their mana at that pace, exhaustion was inevitable.
Then why... why isn't she tiring out?!
The count stared in mounting horror. Renias fired spell after spell without the slightest sign of fatigue. He couldn't even estimate how much time had passed since the skirmish began, nor could he count the number of elite knights screaming as they were hurled across the courtyard. The textbook vulnerabilities of a mage—close-quarters combat and extended battles—were completely failing to register against her.
...Is she an endurance-type mage? No, that's impossible!
Occasionally, an archmage who had mastered mana control to the absolute pinnacle could pace themselves, rationing their output to sustain an extended siege. But preserving mana inherently meant dialing down the destructive yield. That was decidedly not the case here.
Far from diminishing, Renias's spells struck with devastating precision and unyielding force, steadily annihilating the knights' will to fight. That left only one terrifying explanation: an astronomical mana pool. The depth of the vessel nestled within her defied all comprehension, and against that bottomless reservoir, the knights were falling like wheat before a scythe.
"The Arkab Party... I took it for empty rumors and wild exaggeration..."
He had dismissed them as mere students, but these youngsters were monsters in human skin. Veterans returning from the front lines had all said the same thing: the twins of the Arkab Party existed on an entirely different plane. They spoke in reverent awe of how the duo slaughtered monsters regardless of species or rank while the rest of the army could only watch in stunned silence. But Count Coutelli, blinded by worldly greed and political maneuvering, had paid those reports no heed.
The price of his ignorance lay scattered before him: dozens of knights battered into the dirt, while the few still standing trembled, having lost every shred of will to raise their swords. The count finally understood why the Academy revered them as prodigies, and why people claimed they walked a realm no ordinary person could ever reach.
Yet a cruel smirk slowly crept back onto his face. He still had his final card.
"Heh... Very well. It seems I have lost to you, Lady Renias."
"I don't need your concession," Renias replied coldly. "I asked you where Henna is."
"Ah. If that is what you wish to know, allow me to enlighten you."
The moment the corners of the count's mouth curled upward, a deafening blast shuddered through the manor. Thick, acrid smoke billowed from below, and the lower foundation of the building gave way with a sickening crunch.
"...!"
"Oh dear. She was most likely down there. It seems someone set off an explosion in the cellar, doesn't it? Hahaha!"
He had spoken so freely because the fuse he had laid as an insurance policy had just been ignited. The epicenter was unequivocally the basement beneath the manor. With the stone structure collapsing overhead, anyone trapped inside would be crushed beneath the rubble without a prayer of survival.
"How tragic! For a young lady invited as a guest to my daughter's wedding to perish in such an unforeseen accident. Wouldn't you agree, Lady Renias?"
The count smugly spun his web. He framed Henna as an invited guest and painted her demise as a terrible mishap. With the victim dead, there was no one left to testify to an abduction. The knight who had carried out the kidnapping had already been quietly disposed of, erasing the perpetrator from existence. Renias's accusations were now reduced to baseless slander.
Furthermore, the ceremonial grounds were now an unrecognizable ruin, blurring the line between truth and falsehood. If the authorities looked at this devastated courtyard and asked who had run amok and beaten the count's knights half to death, whose name would be on everyone's lips? It was precisely this twisted leverage that fueled the count's brazen arrogance.
"Now then, how do you intend to compensate my family? How will you answer for ruining the Coutelli household's engagement ceremony? Calling this a childish prank hardly excuses the severe blow you have dealt to the honor of House Lantana. Wouldn't you say so?"
Through cunning malice, Count Coutelli had twisted the narrative, turning Renias into nothing more than a violent intruder disguised as a bride to disrupt a sacred rite.
At least, that was what he believed.
"Ghk...?! What is the meaning of this?!"
"Count Coutelli, you are under arrest for the abduction of an Academy student and for attempted murder."
Having witnessed the detonation of the cellar firsthand, Ophelia stepped forward from the shadows, placing the count under arrest the very instant his confession left his lips.