"Why… why is this happening?"
The knight stopped, trembling, feeling a sudden chill run up his spine. His armor now felt twice as heavy, and it wasn't just because of the metal.
All contact with his men had ceased. Silence. A morbid silence.
"Those screams… could it be… has the Night Raid already made their move? Damn it!"
He clenched his teeth.
"They were really one step ahead of us. And now, the plan to eliminate the academy students is completely—"
The cult's plan was brutal and straightforward: assassinate every student from the prestigious Midgar Academy of Magical Swordsmen. A direct blow to the heart of the kingdom's future. If all those young talents were wiped out, Midgar would be doomed.
But that wasn't all.
Among the students were princes and princesses from neighboring kingdoms. Noble blood. A massacre like that would lead to immediate retaliation. War. The total collapse of the Kingdom of Knights.
The cult, of course, had planned for everything. The blame would fall on the Night Raid. That way, they could enjoy their revenge and vanish into the shadows, leaving the world in chaos.
But now… everything was falling apart.
"Damn it! How did they find out?! The plan was perfect!"
The knight took a step back, eyes wide, sweat dripping beneath his helmet.
They had failed… in the very first phase. A humiliation.
"They… they always find out… How is that possible?!"
He was forced to admit it, even if it hurt his pride. The Night Raid was the worst enemy the Cult of Diablos had ever faced. Always cloaked in mystery, emerging from the shadows, sabotaging every meticulous plan with surgical precision.
"They're… monsters…"
His only option now was to flee. Survive.
"The plan failed… all I can do now is escape and report back—!"
"And where do you think you're going to run?"
The voice echoed like soft thunder, cold and composed.
"What?!"
The knight spun on his heels, panic rising.
From every direction, female figures emerged from the shadows. Beautiful, graceful, and deadly. All of them wore tight black uniforms, with masks hiding their faces. Jet-black swords gleamed in their hands.
He was surrounded.
And in the center of them stood an even more imposing figure. A man, also dressed in black, with a mask covering his face. But his eyes…
Eyes of deep violet, as if they absorbed all the light around them.
"M-Midnight…"
The knight stepped back, fear evident in his voice.
That name was a nightmare among cult members.
Midnight.
Leader of the Night Raid.
The Cult of Diablos' greatest enemy.
"Shut your filthy mouth," Midnight's voice cut through the air like a sharp blade.
The pressure emanating from him was suffocating. The knight dropped to his knees, unable to bear the weight of that power. His soul screamed to run, but his body betrayed him.
Even without seeing his face, just being in his presence… felt like standing before an ancient dragon.
"H-How… how is this possible…" the knight murmured, terrified.
The women around him began throwing bodies at his feet. Severed heads, mutilated limbs — the remains of the men under his command. All dead. Each of them frozen in the exact moment of absolute terror.
"But… you… you're not supposed to be able to use magic… How—"
Midnight looked at him coldly.
"And why should I explain anything to you?" he said flatly.
Still, his gaze shifted to his own hands.
Each finger was wrapped in thin, yet sturdy golden chains. Each chain stretched meters ahead, connected to the necks of the masked warriors. As if they were leashed beasts. Or perhaps… willing servants.
(This looks wrong… but it was my sister who created these chains. As long as they work, the aesthetics don't matter…) he thought, sighing internally.
This was a magical item capable of draining magic from a distance.
Chains of Gold.
Even with the power of the [Eye of Desire] — which could absorb magical energy within a kilometer radius — there was one thing it couldn't drain: Leon's magical power.
The reason was simple.
Leon's power source lay within his heart — or rather, in a hidden dimensional space inside it.
In the past, seeking to store vast quantities of magical energy, Leon tore open a spatial rift inside his own body. Since then, all the excess power he generated throughout his life was stored there — a true sea of magic, locked in the void within his chest.
The Night Raid's warriors couldn't use their own magical power. But through the golden chains, they connected directly to the space inside Leon.
That's why, even within the [Eye of Desire]'s range, they could use magic without restriction.
Each of them felt the connection as something sacred. Intense. Absolute.
[It's an unmatched honor to access the Master's magical power…]
[It's so dense, so radiant… so beautiful. This power is worthy of our god.]
[As expected of Lady Midnight… he predicted the enemy's every move perfectly…]
[Ahhh~ I'm chained by the Master… If he binds me again… if he punishes me… hnnn~ No! I can't be so greedy!]
Delusions, admiration, and devotion swirled in their hearts.
In the Night Raid, Leon is absolute.
More than a leader.
He is a god to them — and they, his faithful.
To be chained by him? A privilege.
To use his magical power? A gift from the heavens.
It was like giving obsessed fans their idol's personal items. The joy surpassed all reason.
Leon — or rather, Midnight — calmly held the ancient relic in his hands, the artifact used by the cult to absorb magic on a large scale.
He spun it between his fingers, inspecting it with disdain.
"I knew about your plan ever since I started studying this relic."
His voice was calm, almost bored.
"It's an impressive item, I'll admit. Absorbing magic from afar… pretty practical. But that's all it is. Nothing more."
The casual gesture, the scornful tone — all of it made the knight's eyes widen in realization.
"You… it's you?! That's impossible!"
"Since we're here, let's drop the masks," Leon said, with a cold smile.
"It's time for a little talk… before I kill you, of course. Mr. Vice Principal Lutheran."
"P-PRINCE LEON?!"
Midnight removed his mask.
At the same time, Lutheran took off his helmet, revealing a face twisted in disbelief and rage.
Familiar faces. Old acquaintances.
The polite façade from before vanished like smoke.
"Now it all makes sense… Damn it!"
Lutheran took a shaky step back.
"The legendary Midnight… it's you! The prince of the Kingdom of Palettia!"
He was in shock.
The calm, respectable image he always maintained… was just a disguise.
He is like the light that guides the world… thought Lutheran, bitterly.
…and the darkness that swallows it whole.
"What an unfathomable young man…" he murmured, breathless.
Leon shrugged with elegance.
"You may be far beneath me, but you're still competent. Climbing to the vice principal position of this academy in disguise is no small feat. I imagine you're someone important in the Cult of Diablos."
He drew his magical sword fluidly, spinning it in the air with a casual flourish.
The simple motion made Lutheran take a step back, heart pounding.
"Tsk… Then why don't you just kill me? You've gone too far showing me your true identity. If I escape, you're finished."
Leon looked at him with a faint smile.
"You're not going to escape. You can't."
"The only condition to know my true identity… is to be my companion — or die."
With a subtle motion, Leon made his sword glint.
Lutheran swallowed hard.
A thin red line appeared on his neck. Blood trickled down slowly.
"That speed…!"
"I could kill you right now. But not before extracting everything you know."
Leon took a step forward, his presence filling the air like an approaching storm.
"I want the secrets of the Cult of Diablos… and everything you know about Sherry Barnett."
---
(End of Chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."