Eben Hospital
Andy, who had been lying on the pristine white bed at Eben Hospital, suddenly convulsed and thrashed violently. "Andy."
The nurses had already been briefed. The moment his seizure began, they swiftly fastened Mana Restriction Cuffs around his small wrists. Andy calmed instantly, as if the outburst had never happened.
Heming clasped the boy's hands tightly in both of his and bowed his head as though in prayer. Please, let this child be safe.
It's all right. This will be resolved quickly. He tried to reassure himself, yet the anxiety refused to fade. At least until Andy woke, he knew he wouldn't be able to shake this worry. So, hoping the time would pass swiftly, Heming gently patted his wife's back as she sat beside him, stroking Andy's hair.
"It'll be fine. I'm sure of it."
He offered the words to comfort her—comfort he himself couldn't fully accept.
Togun Masao sprinted forward. His figure instantly drew the attention of every student and professor alike. In his hand was a strangely shaped sword—or rather, a slightly curved blade resembling a dao. It was a weapon used only in certain regions of the Fan Empire. Magnus's eyes widened as he sensed the alien power emanating from it.
So that's what it was!
The Masao bloodline had long been cursed with Mana Rejecter, a heavenly affliction that persisted even into the modern era. Once a prestigious family in the Fan Empire, they had collapsed with alarming speed. Yet their ancestors never gave up, struggling desperately to overcome the curse—to restore their fallen house and reclaim their former glory.
In the end, they failed to break the curse. So they changed their approach. If the curse could not be removed, could it instead be turned to their advantage?
Strong will leaves its mark upon objects. The same principle that creates sacred swords or demonic blades imbued with ego. The dark mages' method of absorbing curses into objects was used to gather their own curse after death, shaping it into a sword. The experiment succeeded beyond expectation.
The blade was forged from the ashes of the Masao family head mixed with his remains. It continued absorbing the family's curse across generations, growing stronger with each passing era—an evolving artifact. Its very existence erased all mana in the world, a unique anti-magic power. The moment this abomination, the natural enemy of ability users, was born, it was passed down exclusively to the direct descendants of the Masao line. Just as it now rested in Togun Masao's hands.
"……"
It was a power he had never wanted to use. The Anti-Magic Sword erased mana without question or resistance. Every drop of mana he had painstakingly gathered despite his handicap as a Mana Rejecter scattered instantly.
"Kugh!"
A powerful curse crawled up his arm from the hilt. Strengthened over generations, it gnawed at Togun's body as though declaring he was still unworthy to wield it. One minute at most.
The power he could draw was only a fraction of the sword's true strength. But that was enough. This was the Masao family's sacred relic—the ultimate weapon that had allowed ordinary bodies to cut down superhuman monsters during the Masao Incident, when the family was exiled from the Fan Empire.
Once he drew this sword, the user's physical abilities could never exceed human limits. Even so, one minute was more than enough to cut down a 5-star dark mage, even if Togun couldn't fully unleash the weapon's original power.
"……"
Every professor present knew of the Masao heirloom. Without a word, they stepped aside, clearing a path between Togun Masao and the dark mage. Togun charged down the open corridor and raised the Anti-Magic Sword toward the magic circle the professors had erected.
Before the Masao family, stars lost all meaning. Whether mage, dark mage, or Ebon user, anything composed of mana was severed without question. This was the world's most alien weapon, capable of threatening superhumans with an ordinary body—the sacred relic that had even made the Fan Empire's emperor feel threatened enough to banish the family.
Even the intricate magic circle woven by expert mages could not block the blade's trajectory.
Whoosh.
The Mana Restriction Cuffs Maril had given him floated lightly into the air. With both hands now unburdened, Togun gripped the Anti-Magic Sword tightly. The sword's powerful curse repelled all surrounding mana around him.
Masao Sword Style. Single Stroke Severance.
Without mana, he could not perform complex martial arts. Thus, after obtaining the Anti-Magic Sword, the Masao family had developed a new style consisting only of the most basic movements possible with the blade. There were no special techniques. Only a single downward swing.
The trajectory he had repeated countless times since childhood traced through the air. Everything made of mana in its path split cleanly left and right—the magic circle, and even the sinister mana of the Inner World trapped within it.
"……!"
The Inner World's mana did not explode. Instead, it recoiled as though fearing Togun Masao's anti-magic power. A stronger curse repelled a weaker one. The gap created between the magic circle and the dark mage finally revealed the dark mage's entire form to everyone present.
A height shorter than average, around 160 centimeters. Disheveled yellowish-brown hair sticking out in all directions like dust. His wide eyes clearly showed his shock at the situation.
"Well done, Togun."
Natilda Scape leapt forward behind Togun Masao, who had just severed the Inner World's mana. Catching the Mana Restriction Cuffs he had thrown upward earlier, she smiled.
"Leave the rest to me."
She charged without hesitation through the path Togun had opened. In a single bound, she closed the distance to the dark mage in the blink of an eye. The dark mage panicked and hastily retreated.
It's over.
Feeling the cold touch of the Mana Restriction Cuffs on his wrists, the dark mage squeezed his eyes shut.
Thud!
Just as everyone present sensed the incident's conclusion, the dark mage's arm—bound by the cuffs—suddenly flew into the air. Crimson blood sprayed in all directions. Regaining his balance after losing the limb, the dark mage flashed a twisted grin.
"You think I'll go down that easily?!"
The scattered blood droplets transformed into conical shapes. Refined into stakes, they spun like a vortex and shot toward the unguarded Professor Scape.
Curse Art. Blood Poison. Toxic blood that manifested as a curse technique, embedding itself in Scape's vital points.
Crack!
But before they could pierce her body, they were all blocked by the magic circle that had appeared on her skin.
"Kuh!"
Reflexively defending against the attack, Professor Scape immediately seized the dark mage by the throat. With enough force to snap his neck, she slammed his body onto the auditorium floor. Her arm, gripping the dark mage's neck, sparkled as though dusted with starlight.
A microscopic magic implemented by engraving spell formulas into each individual cell, based on extreme precision in mana control. It was a spell Natilda Scape had developed independently, considered the pinnacle of body-enhancement magic in terms of precision and difficulty.
A martial artist!
Skin cells, muscle cells, nerve cells, bone cells, immune cells—every cell composing her arm was excessively activated by magic. Regeneration, strength, reflexes, elasticity, immunity. Her physical abilities rose across the board to a level rivaling that of a true martial artist.
The strongest close-combat mage. The dark mage thrashed in pain, clutching Professor Scape's wrist as her epithet proved itself true.
"Still not giving up?"
The blood stakes blocked by the magic circle liquefied again and spread across her circle like paint splattered on a sketchbook. The toxin seeped through the deteriorating magic circle. A sneer formed on Professor Scape's face at the pathetic attempt to weaken her body.
"Just give up quietly, dark mage."
Yet the curse failed to penetrate her strengthened immune system, even without any countermeasures on her part.
Just a little more!
More than half his body had already turned to data. A little further and he could escape through the collapsing digital domain. The opponent seemed to know this too. Glancing at his legs fading like a ghost, she pulled out another pair of Mana Restriction Cuffs. Having been caught once already, severing his arm before they could be fastened wouldn't work a second time.
[Tsk, can't even escape properly?]
A wind blew. Amid the foul mana of the Inner World, a refreshing breeze stirred. Her eyes widened. She urgently released the dark mage and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Boom!
With a massive explosion, her body was hurled into the air. Her wrists throbbed as though struck by something.
An accomplice?
The attack had come from beyond space—from the digital domain the dark mage was trying to escape into. Strongly suspecting an accomplice, Professor Scape reached out again to grab the dark mage.
"Kahahahahaha!"
But she was too late. The dark mage's laughter echoed throughout the grand hall. Before she could seize him, his body was completely sucked into the digital domain.
I did it!
It had taken time to enter because of that monstrous brat who had destroyed his Inner World and created a new one, but he had still succeeded in escaping from the mage before him. Though some unknown person had intervened at the last moment, the dark mage, flushed with exhilaration, didn't doubt it for a second. He fled the scene in a rush, lost in the thrill of his successful escape.
"Damn it!"
Professor Scape cursed as the dark mage vanished. She had no excuse. To lose him right in front of her—this was clearly her mistake.
As the dark mage departed, the Inner World's mana rapidly dissipated. Turning away from the faint remnants of black mana, Professor Scape looked at Professor Magnus and spoke.
"You said Heming went to Eben Hospital?"
She would save her apology for causing this situation for later. Capturing the escaped dark mage took priority now.
"I'll borrow an ambulance on the way. And Professor Vivaldi, request police assistance immediately!"
At Professor Scape's words, the professors hurriedly left the scene. Watching their retreating backs, Togun—who had been sitting on the floor with both arms hanging limply from the aftereffects of using the Anti-Magic Sword—suddenly sprang to his feet.
Andy! Uncle Heming!
With worried eyes, he quickly followed after the professors leaving the auditorium.