She reveled in her freedom.
Untethered, unbound, she drifted through the skies as she pleased, untouched by rules or expectations. No one disturbed her. No one commanded her. And wherever she went, she was praised, admired as a blessing, revered as something sacred.
In time, she began to listen to their voices.
When she was awake, she would hear their pleas carried on the wind, and more often than not, she answered them. She granted favors on a whim, lending her strength when she felt like it. At times, however, she missed the solitude she once cherished, and on those days, she ignored them entirely.
They never complained.
Instead, they came bearing gifts.
Shiny trinkets, ornaments, food, and offerings of all kinds were left in places she frequented whenever they came to ask for her aid. She cared little for such things, yet she understood the feelings behind them, and that was enough. Their gratitude pleased her. Their happiness amused her.
As long as she could do as she pleased, she was content.
But slowly, imperceptibly, the tone of their requests changed.
They grew more precise. More demanding.
Zarestia noticed, but she did not stop. Though she treasured her freedom, she also enjoyed the way they praised her, the way they adored her, the way they treated her as something indispensable. Before she realized it, she had grown accustomed to answering every call, bending herself to their expectations.
And then, one day, they came to her with a strange request.
They asked for fire.
Only fire.
She disliked it immediately.
It felt restrictive. So she refused, asserting her freedom as she always had.
And they left.
All of them. The voices were gone.
Freedom, she learned, could be unbearably lonely.
Unable to endure the silence, she went to them and agreed to grant their wish. She gave them fire as they had asked… but in secret, she raised the wind as well. For the wind was hers. It was the symbol of her freedom.
Upon her return, they celebrated her.
They invited her to a feast, where she was given alcohol for the first time. Her senses dulled, her thoughts blurred, and for the first time since her birth, she fell asleep away from her nest.
When she awoke...
"Give it… back…"
Her voice was hoarse. Broken.
"Give back… me."
"My arms… my legs… my… body… where is it? Where did it go…?"
What remained of her screamed in agony.
She swore then, an oath carved into her soul, that she would never forgive. Never trust. Never allow herself to be bound by others again.
And yet...
That resolve wavered when she met those two.
Their faces were blurred. Their voices distant. Even their names had been lost to time. All she remembered were the titles bestowed upon them by Od Lagna itself.
The Hero.
And the Saintess.
Time passed, slowly for her. Painfully.
She never saw them again.
But they had left her a gift.
A small orb of light.
She clutched it tightly, treasuring it as proof that not all bonds ended in betrayal. No matter how vague her memories became, she never let go of it.
Even when she realized the truth.
That the very light she cherished, the orb she held so dear, was the source of her uncontrollable bloodlust.
Even then, she refused to part with it.
Years passed. Decades. Centuries.
Then one day, she awoke....
And the light was gone.
At first, she searched her cave absentmindedly, thinking she had misplaced it. She overturned stone, tore apart her resting place, scoured every corner.
Nothing.
She always slept with it beside her.
Always.
Someone had stolen it while she slept.
Rage swallowed the cavern.
She searched relentlessly, yet found no trace of the thief. No scent. No lingering presence.
Nothing.
Until tonight.
A massive surge of power erupted from the heart of the city of Banan, violent, overwhelming, unmistakable.
Her lips curled into a snarl.
"I'm definitely going to kill that thief."
And so...
Everything led her here.
She stood amid the ruins, gazing down at the collapsed man.
His skin had darkened to an unhealthy shade, black veins writhing beneath it as though something alive was crawling inside him.
He doesn't have a single ounce of Od left.
She could tell at a glance.
No mana, either. Not even a trace lingering in his gate. And yet… the devastation surrounding them told a different story. Whatever power he had wielded moments ago had been immense, far beyond what an ordinary being should have been capable of unleashing.
Enough to warrant interrogation.
Enough to make him suspicious.
Though it hardly mattered.
He was dying. That much was certain. But his life meant nothing to her.
She had come for one reason only.
To reclaim what was hers.
"Who are you?" a voice barked.
The armored knight stepped forward, greatsword dragging against the shattered stone. "Step away from that man."
Her gaze never left the body at her feet.
"I have business with this one," she replied flatly. "Scram."
"I'm afraid I can't do that," the knight said, tightening his grip. "Unless you wish to be branded a fellow cultist, I suggest you move away. Now."
She finally looked up.
The air changed.
Wind began to howl, not as a natural gust, but as something summoned. Magic poured from her in waves, sharp and oppressive, slicing through the ruins like invisible blades.
The pressure alone was overwhelming.
Nora and Melty were forced to grab onto a massive slab of fallen stone just to keep from being flung away. Even the knight dug his sword into the ground, boots screeching as he was dragged backward inch by inch.
And then...
She frowned.
That shouldn't have been the case.
She intended to send them all flying with one strike, but her wind was too weak.
"…Hm?"
The collapsed man stirred faintly.
No, pulled.
She felt it immediately.
Her mana was being siphoned.
Drawn toward him in thin, swallowed greedily by his broken body.
Is he… drawing mana from me?
It wasn't deliberate. It was just raw instinct. A primal fail-safe, as though his body refused to accept death and instead chose to consume whatever was closest.
Annoyance flickered across her expression.
The simplest solution was obvious.
Killing him would stop it.
But...
She glanced toward the knight still struggling against her wind.
I'm about to fight, and this mutt doesn't look too weak.
Even without her light orb, the demi-human was no match for her. Still, the man at her feet was draining mana at an alarming rate. If left unchecked, it could become… inconvenient.
If I kill him, I can't ask him anything.
She shook her head horizontally, she almost acted on habit.
This works in my favor.
He was connected to the power surge earlier.
The smart move is to spare him.
He knows where my light is.
And if he doesn't tell her.
I'll kill him myself.
Satisfied with her own cold logic, she allowed herself a moment of smug approval.
That was when the knight lunged.
Steel roared through the air as the greatsword came down...
Only for his body to be wrenched upward mid-strike.
He was lifted effortlessly, suspended in the air by a spiraling current of wind.
She clicked her tongue, irritation plain on her face.
"I'm still thinking," she said coolly.
With a flick of her wrist, the wind reversed.
The knight was hurled like a ragdoll, crashing through shattered stone and slamming into a distant wall with a thunderous impact.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
He was floating.
At first, it felt… nice.
Tanaka's eyes remained closed as a gentle warmth spread through his body. Muscles that had been screaming moments ago finally relaxed, tension melting away as if invisible hands were kneading the strain from his limbs. The crushing weight he had been carrying, fear, guilt, exhaustion, all of it, slowly lifted from his shoulders.
Wouldn't it be great……if I could stay like this forever?
It felt like drifting atop clouds, suspended in a soft, endless sky.
Then...
Something trembled.
"Hm…?"
The sensation was distant, almost irrelevant. A faint shaking, like a ripple passing through a dream. Tanaka barely acknowledged it, assuming it was nothing more than his imagination.
The shaking intensified.
Violently.
The world lurched, the clouds tearing apart as the motion grew rough and relentless.
What..?!
Before he could finish the thought, the sensation turned brutal.
"Wake up already!"
A vice clenched around his collar, and suddenly he was being shaken, hard. Back and forth, again and again, like someone trying to rip his soul back into his body.
"Wawawawawawawa!!!!"
His eyes flew open.
The moment awareness returned, the grip released.
He was hurled downward.
"Augh...!"
His body hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Pain exploded through every inch of him, his muscles screaming in protest as he rolled onto his side.
Groaning, Tanaka forced himself to look up.
"You are…"
An inhumanly beautiful woman stood over him.
Pale, flawless skin. Milky-white, shaggy hair that fluttered faintly despite the absence of wind. Her presence alone was overwhelming, unnatural, oppressive, like the air itself bent around her.
She looked tired and battered up, as if she had been fighting a tenacious battle.
Why is she here…?
Alarm flared instantly.
Tanaka tried to move, barely managing to lift his head.
And froze.
…My mask?
Panic surged.
His hand flew to his face out of habit, fingers brushing bare skin instead of familiar fabric. Cold realization stabbed into his chest.
It was gone.
His gaze snapped around wildly.
Nora. Melty. Tristan.
They were all there.
And they looked wrecked, clothes torn, faces smeared with dust and blood, eyes hollow with exhaustion. As if they had just survived something catastrophic.
All of them were staring at him.
At his uncovered face.
It's over.
They knew.
Tanaka bit down on his lip, the metallic taste of blood blooming as he shut his eyes tight. He drew in a slow, steady breath, forcing his racing thoughts into something resembling calm.
When he opened his eyes again, his voice was low and steady.
"What… happened?"
It was a ridiculous question given the circumstances, but he needed to know. The last thing he remembered was darkness, then nothing.
He had lost an entire stretch of time.
Nora watched him carefully, distrust clear in her eyes. Suspicion warred with something else, reluctance, perhaps.
After a moment, she sighed.
"…You were right," she said quietly. "There was a shaman hiding in the church."
Her gaze hardened.
"It was the red-haired sister."
"…Sonia."
The name struck Tanaka harder than he expected.
For a brief moment, his expression faltered, then stiffened, jaw tightening as the pieces fell neatly into place.
It made sense. Among all those in the church, Sonia had interacted with him the most, far more than mere pleasantries. The casual conversations. The visit to the bar. The handshakes.
While playing the role of a friendly nun. In reality, she has been marking him with a curse.
"…"
The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable, until a sharp voice cut through it.
"What are you plotting, Sin Archbishop?"
The cat-person's eyes burned with naked hostility. Every ounce of suspicion he held was justified. After all, Tanaka had been the one who dragged him into this chaos. The one who warned him about an imminent attack on the church, only for that warning to end with devastation and rubble, scattered everywhere.
Tanaka understood that.
Still… it stung.
That familiar look, disdain mixed with judgment, was one he had grown all too accustomed whenever his mask had been torn away.
He exhaled softly and muttered, his tone laced with dry sarcasm,"Why does that concern you, knight?"
"It damn well concerns me! I'm a knight and you are a sin archbishop. You are the enemy of Lugunica... No, you are the enemy of the whole world."
The words barely left his mouth before he winced.
"…My bad," Tanaka added, letting out a hollow, humorless chuckle."I apologize. That was a stupid response."
He straightened slightly and continued, more seriously,"Well, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not currently planning on committing any evil deeds."
"Lies," Tristan snapped. "As if anyone would be stupid enough to believe that, especially after the atrocities the Witch Cult committed in Pristella."
Tanaka's eyes narrowed.
"I didn't commit any of those atrocities," he said calmly. "As far as I'm aware, the ones responsible were Lust, Gluttony, Greed, and Wrath. I was merely a bystander."
That only seemed to fuel Tristan's frustration.
With a sharp step forward, the knight raised his massive sword, its edge aimed directly at Tanaka's throat.
"Stride Vollachia," Tristan declared, voice cold and resolute,"You are under arrest."
Before Tanaka could respond...
"Wait."
The woman stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding the space between them.
"Shut up," she added flatly, without even looking at Tristan."I'm finishing my business first. After that, do whatever you want."
Tristan bristled, but she blocked his path entirely. Their gazes locked, tension snapping between them like invisible lightning.
Something definitely happened while I was unconscious, Tanaka thought.
His eyes lingered on the woman longer than intended.
She noticed.
The woman shook her milky white hair whose ends were uneven and was furtively giving
Tanaka a sidelong glance with her almond eyes. Her light pink lips slackened, and she made a
very provocative smile.
"Can you not be charmed just because I'm cute?"
Tanaka shook his hand alongside his dismissively, "I'm not staring because of that," Tanaka replied calmly. "I'm just deciding whether I should say this in front of everyone."
Her brow furrowed. "Say what?"
"It concerns you," he said. "Come closer. I'll whisper it."
Suspicion flickered across her face, but curiosity won.
She leaned down.
Tanaka whispered into her ear.
Her eyes widened instantly as she jolted back.
"HUH?! How did you know that?!"
"That's not important right now," Tanaka said evenly. "I was just debating whether I should say it out loud or not."
Tristan's eyes narrowed, sharp as drawn steel.
"In any case," he said, shifting his grip on the sword, "who are you? Are you an accomplice of his?"
"She's not," Tanaka replied immediately. "Obviously. This is our first time meeting, right?"
"Huh...? R-right."
Her answer came out stiff, awkwardly delayed, the fluster in her voice doing her no favors. Instead of clearing suspicion, it only deepened it.
"My name is… ah…"
Tanaka leaned closer and whispered again, barely moving his lips.
"Just call yourself Tia."
"…It's Tia," she said after a beat. "That'll do for now."
Her hesitation was understandable. Zarestia had always lived far from cities, far from people. No one truly knew what the Great Spirit of Wind looked like. Even in the other realities, when she descended into the world searching for her light ball, no one had ever connected her face to the legends. She looked human enough, and no one would think otherwise at a glance.
In truth, even if Tanaka hadn't witnessed alternative futures, he would have known that she was a spirit. Her presence alone gave her away, similar to Beatrice, similar to Odglass.
Still…
He hadn't expected to meet her.Not like this.
"In any case," Tristan pressed, "what was your business here?"
Zarestia blinked and then stiffened.
"Ah. Right."
She turned slowly toward Tanaka, eyes locking onto him with sudden clarity.
"Give it back."
Tanaka frowned. "Huh?"
"You know," she snapped, irritation bleeding into her voice. "WHAT YOU STOLE. Return it now, and I might spare your life."
She spoke as if the answer were obvious, as if he was supposed to know what she meant.
And the thing is, he understood exactly what she meant.
What he didn't understand was why she thought he was the thief.
When she had accused someone, it had been Rem, mistaken for an Oni with a similar scent. But him?
Why now?
And more importantly...
Why was it stolen again?
Why had Reese taken it this time?
"Wait a second!" Tanaka barked. "Why the hell do you think I have your light ball?!"
Nora finally spoke up, her confusion plain."…What's a light ball?"
"You idiot!" Zarestia snapped. "You're not supposed to say it out loud!"
"It's fine," Tanaka replied flatly. "It's vague. No one will understand."
His blatant dismissal clearly displeased the others, but none of them dared interrupt the woman who had displayed absurd power moments earlier.
Tanaka himself barely noticed their reactions.
His thoughts were spiraling, events slipping out of alignment, refusing to follow the timeline he knew.
"You still have traces left," Zarestia continued. "So you must've used it."
Then she froze.
"…Wait."
Her eyes narrowed.
She raised a finger and pointed straight at him.
"Aha! You know what it is. That means you have it."
"I know what it is," Tanaka replied calmly, "but that doesn't mean I possess it."
Her expression darkened further.
"And for the record," he added, "don't lump us together as accomplices. If you keep making baseless accusations, this conversation will never go anywhere."
"Playing innocent," she scoffed. "I don't care what you call it. It's my light ball. I came to take it back."
"Listen," Tanaka snapped, irritation finally surfacing. "This is this, and that is that. You don't get to accuse people without proof."
She crossed her arms. "Earlier, the surge of power that likely destroyed this place."
"Yeah," Tanaka shot back, "but a lot of people were fighting. I was unconscious. You could've misjudged."
"That's impossible," she said immediately.
Tanaka sighed inwardly. He knew this type well. Arguing with her was like arguing with a wall.
Then...
"Um…" Melty spoke hesitantly."…Actually, it was you who destroyed the church."
"…Huh?"
Tanaka stared at her, dumbfounded, half-expecting laughter.
None came.
Their expressions were serious.
"…Seriously?"
If that was true, then he must have unleashed something powerful, completely unconsciously.
But then why was he still alive?
Why did his body feel… better than before?
His mana, no, more than that, felt replenished. At least, better compared to when he'd entered the church.
I need to find out exactly what happened from Cepheus and Odglass…
A sudden gust tore through the ruins.
The wind screamed across the ground, carving a vicious line through stone and rubble. Deep, vertical gashes split the earth near Tanaka's feet, as if the floor itself had been raked by invisible blades.
The slashes were clean. Precise. Merciless.
Had they struck flesh instead of stone, a body would have been cleaved apart without resistance.
Zarestia's patience had snapped.
"I'm really running out of patience," she said coldly."Hand it over. Now. Or I will kill you."
It was both a threat and a warning, proof that the next time, she wouldn't miss.
"Go ahead."
"…Huh?"
Her eyes widened slightly.
"That won't work," Tanaka continued flatly. "You know who I am, right? My identity's exposed. After what happened here, I'm dead either way, by your hand or by execution."
He turned his head toward Tristan, meeting the knight's stunned gaze.
"So," Tanaka said calmly, "just get it over with."
Tristan frowned. "Get it over with?"
"Executing me or whatever?" He exhaled sharply. "Just spare me the speech."
Zarestia blinked, genuinely thrown off.
"Huh? W-wait a moment..."
His thought process was erratic, even to himself. But if he was lucky, very lucky, he might return to a point before his mask had been torn away. Before infiltrating the church. With everything he now knew…
Tristan straightened.
"I don't know what you're plotting," he said firmly, "but you won't be let off so easily. You will be interrogated first. Then the higher court will decide your fate. If you cooperate and provide information about the Witch Cult, your sentence may be reduced."
Judged for crimes I didn't commit, Tanaka thought bitterly.Committed before I was even born. Wonderful.
Zarestia folded her arms. "See? It's not even confirmed you'll be executed. You might just rot in prison for the rest of your life."
Tanaka clicked his tongue in irritation.
With a faint crackle of frost, mana condensed in his hand.
An ice dagger took shape, thin, sharp, gleaming coldly in the dim light.
The air seemed to freeze with it.
Nora gasped. Melty took a step back. Tristan's eyes widened as his grip tightened on his sword.
"That won't work with me," Tanaka said quietly."I'll just die."
It wasn't your fault. You were just a child.
The words echoed in his mind.
As he raised the dagger toward his throat, Hana's face flashed before his eyes, clear, unyielding.
You promised, she had said.You promised you'd forgive yourself.
His hand trembled.
This doesn't count, he told himself desperately.This isn't self-harm. I'm not doing this because I want to.
He shook his head hard.
The situation was spiraling. The chaos here could've caused casualties and he was the cause of it. And now that Sonia was exposed as the true culprit, everything could be smoothed over...
The dagger hovered inches from his throat.
Then...
Smack.
Zarestia's hand struck his wrist with brutal force, sending the ice blade skidding across the rubble and shattering into shards.
"Agh!"
Pain exploded through his arm.
"Ouch! What's wrong with you?!"
"You're insane!" she snapped.
"I think you broke my wrist, you idiot!"
"You were planning to die anyway," she shot back."I'm just giving you a taste of it."
"A taste of it? You moron!" Tanaka yelled."If I die, the pain stops! This..." he clenched his teeth as agony throbbed through his wrist, "this is going to agonize me for weeks!"
His right hand hung uselessly now, trembling violently.
At this rate, he wouldn't be able to lift even a pebble.
Tristan stared at the woman. Initially, he thought she was his accomplice but now he didn't know what to make of her.
Noticing his gaze, she glared back at him, "You... don't get cocky just because you're huge."
He scoffed. "That's a new false accusation. You already gave me enough trouble earlier."
"One who enjoys being praised by a mutt is merely a mutt of a woman."
As Zarestia continued to switch target to pick on, the nun stepped forward towards the man sitting on the ground, still clutching his wrist.
She knelt beside Tanaka, pressing her hands gently around his injured wrist. Warm light spilled from her palms, soft and white.
The pain dulled, slowly but not completely.
Her amber eyes flicked up at him.
There was relief in them.
But also unmistakable frustration.
Then...
"Stop running away, James!"
Tanaka exhaled heavily. "That's not my name. And by now, you've realized I've been lying this whole time."
"I don't care!" Melty snapped. Her voice trembled, but her gaze didn't waver. "Whatever you did before, I've always known you as James."
She swallowed, then continued firmly.
"The church may be destroyed, but no one died tonight."
Tanaka froze.
His eyes widened, something fragile flickering within them.
"No one died," Melty repeated. "And it's because of you."
When he'd learned that he was the one who destroyed the church, his mind had gone blank, filled only with the certainty that dying was the only way to prevent further casualties.
And yet...
"So stop running away," she said softly. "I don't know what you're hiding. I don't know what you're thinking. But don't die just to escape."
What a pain…
This was always the worst part of dying in front of others.
Reactions like this.
If he died now, he could spare her the trouble. Spare everyone the mess.
But… if no one had died...
There was no reason to.
Trading his life to rebuild a structure, even if he could come back wasn't worth the price.
He let out a tired breath. "Hah… fine. I get it."
Then he turned his gaze toward Tristan.
"Knight. I'm not letting you arrest me. That won't work."
"You don't get to decide that..."
"Shut up and let me finish," Tanaka interrupted flatly. "You asked what I'm plotting. I came to Kararagi to meet Halibel. To lift a curse. I already told Nora that days ago."
"A curse?" Tristan echoed.
His eyes shifted to the red-haired girl beside him.
She stiffened slightly.
"What exactly are you seeking from Halibel?" Tristan asked.
Halibel, the protector of Kararagi, was one of the three people said to be on par with the Kingdom's Reinhard van Astrea.
Why in the world was a sin archbishop seeking him?
"Halibel-Sama is a curse expert," Nora replied. "If anyone understands curses, it's him."
"What kind of curse?"
"I can't say," Tanaka answered quietly. "I'm forbidden to."
Tristan frowned. "Then come with me. In Lugunica, we have the finest magicians alive. If you cooperate. If you provide valuable information about the Witch Cult, they'll help you lift it."
"They won't," Tanaka said immediately.
The certainty in his voice left no room for doubt.
He knew it.
Because if they were truly capable of breaking his curse.
They would have already saved the victims of Pristella.
Those afflicted by cursed blood.
And they hadn't.
Tristan's expression hardened."You are not in a position to negotiate. This is the best offer you will ever receive."
Tanaka exhaled through his nose, a tired, humorless sound."I figured you'd say that."
He turned his head slightly. "Hey, Tia."
"Hm? What is it now?"
"I have a vague idea who stole your light ball."
Her eyes narrowed instantly. "I knew it was you. Hurry up and give it back."
"I'm not the one who took it!" Tanaka snapped. "Listen to the end, you idiot. I said I know who took it."Then, more quietly, "But if this knight drags me off and throws me in a cell, I won't be able to help you get it back."
Tristan's ears flattened. He bristled."You bastard, don't listen to him! He's obviously trying to use you."
Zarestia's gaze flicked to Tanaka, sharp and piercing, the air around her tightening. "Are you lying?"
The pressure she exuded was immense but Tanaka didn't flinch.
"I swear," he said calmly. "I'm telling the truth."
Her goal had never changed. Retrieve her light sphere.If the cat-person stood in the way, she would tear through him. If necessary, kill him.
Tristan sensed it. The shift in the air. The verge of violence.
Before it could explode, Tanaka spoke again.
"This is going nowhere," he said flatly. "So I'm going to make a suggestion."
Both of them turned toward him.
"Tia," he continued, "I think I can help you retrieve your light ball. But I'm setting two conditions."
"…Go on."
"First, when we get it back, don't go on a rampage. Don't start killing people."
"Huh?"
Even she knew how absurd that sounded.
"Second," Tanaka went on without hesitation, "if you really can't suppress the urge, vent it on me. I'll try to stop you."
Tristan stared at him in disbelief.
Tanaka knew exactly what he was proposing. Returning her light ball was like unchaining a calamity.
"Those conditions are absolute," he said firmly. "I'll take responsibility."
Then he turned back to Tristan.
"Knight. I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm letting myself be dragged to Lugunica and locked up. Not until the curse binding me is gone."
Tristan's jaw tightened. He was clearly not satisfied.
"I know you won't accept that," Tanaka added. "So I'll give you something in exchange."
He paused.
"Kazuki Tanaka."
The name left his lips cleanly.
Tristan stiffened. "…What?"
"That's the person you're looking for, right?" Tanaka continued. "Garitch... the bar owner, mentioned this morning that you were searching for him. He was captured by Witch Cult members, but he's still alive."
Silence prevailed.
"My goal in coming to Kararagi," Tanaka said, "was to find Halibel and have him lift my curse. After that, I'll tell you where Kazuki Tanaka is."
"As if I'd trust the word of a Sin Archbishop."
"Then let's bind it," Tanaka replied instantly. "An oath-bound curse."
Tristan's pupils shrank.
An oath-bound curse was absolute. A vow carved into the soul itself.Break it, and purifying flames would consume the body, tainting the soul beyond salvation, severing it forever from Od Lagna.
"As long as the contract holds," Tanaka said evenly, "I won't commit any evil acts. Once my curse is lifted, I'll reveal Kazuki Tanaka's whereabouts. I'll even surrender myself to the Knights Order."
He paused."Until then, you don't reveal my identity to anyone."
Tristan stared at him. "…What curse could possibly make you this desperate?"
"Again, I can't say," Tanaka replied. "I'm restricted."
"And why are you searching for Kazuki Tanaka?"
"That's classified."
"Can you give me a break? You know and I know that if I break the oath, I will die and my soul will perish, right? And if you have any complaints you can even add another clause to the contract."
Still hesitant, Tristan remained silent.
So Tanaka delivered the final push.
"If you don't help me lift this curse," he said quietly, "then even if you capture every Sin Archbishop, including me, you'll never find him."
Time passed.
Then...
"…Fine," Tristan said at last. "I'll accept your deal. But I'm adding another condition."
"Shoot."
"As long as the contract is active, you report every action you take. I'll be monitoring you constantly."
"Sure," Tanaka replied easily. "Whatever."
They performed the ritual.
Tanaka stepped forward, carving the vow into the air with mana-laced words.
"I swear I will not commit evil deeds.""I swear I will reveal Kazuki Tanaka's whereabouts once my curse is lifted."
"Also swear to return my light ball," Zarestia cut in.
Tanaka ignored her and finished the oath.
A cold blue sigil flared to life, burning itself into both his chest and Tristan's.
The sensation was revolting. Like shackles tightening around his soul.
But Tanaka endured it.
Once the curse was lifted… once he revealed himself as Kazuki Tanaka
The oath would dissolve.
As long as that happened...
Everything would be fine.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
With this, the first half of arc 6 is over. I think the following chapters, I'm going to conclude Tanaka's back story quickly. Honestly it should be longer but I'm going to wrap the essence of it in two chapters, I'm sure you guys are going to love it.
After I finish that, I will start with the second half of the arc.
The second half of the arc is going to be called the night weeping, I'm certain that you will like the conclusion.
That being said, I have many things I need to get done IRL (Exams, work, etc...) and I have to lock in, so I can't promise fast updates.