"Playing… a god?" Roger raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Where'd you get that idea? Another history book?"
"Part of it, yeah," Mystogan nodded. "I first heard how you once pretended to be a 'god' to help Mira Jane out of her darkness."
"Then I read about stuff like Chen Sheng and Wu Guang during their rebellion: fox howls in the night, secret messages hidden in fish bellies, convincing the soldiers they were chosen by heaven. Instant morale boost."
"Those stories gave me the idea. Sometimes a higher being giving you a nod of approval works way better than any pep talk from a regular person."
"I'm just a mortal. I can guide people, but I can't give them the kind of spiritual anchor a friendly god can."
Roger rubbed his chin, grinning. "Interesting. Humans do love putting their faith in something bigger."
"And the best part: I'll be a god who leaves. People can have a god for hope and safety, but the god can't stick around forever. Otherwise they'll get too dependent. They need to know a higher power once protected them, but in the end they have to stand on their own two feet."
"That's exactly it." Mystogan's eyes lit up with a "you totally get me" sparkle.
"All the refugees are gathered in the northern underground shelter. They'll come out in about an hour as planned."
"So we've got that hour to nail down the script and figure out how I'm supposed to play my part."
"Deal," Roger said with a nod.
"But first, one more thing."
A glowing holographic disk popped up in front of Roger.
At the same moment, a progress bar flashed across Mystogan's vision—only he could see it.
The second it filled, an absolute flood of non-magical machinery blueprints, schematics, and engineering principles poured into his brain. Way more detailed than any book he'd ever read.
Mystogan clutched his temple, eyes wide with shock and pure joy.
"This knowledge… it's insane! Way more complete than anything I've ever studied!"
"With this, I can mass-produce practical magic-free tools in no time!"
He looked up, dead serious. "Thank you—"
Roger just waved him off with a lazy grin.
"Dude, we're guildmates. No need for that."
"Besides, if I ever need your help someday, you'd drop everything and come running, right?"
Mystogan froze for half a second, then broke into a real, genuine smile and nodded hard.
"Any time. Any place. I'd give everything to back you up."
They locked eyes and both cracked up laughing.
Right then, Mira bounced over, light on her feet.
"Roger! Cana and the girls wanna go check out the Exceed city. You coming?"
"Nah, Mystogan and I still have some stuff to handle. You guys go have fun."
"Oh, and heads-up: things might get a little… weird later. Don't freak out. Just ping me on the comms card if anything comes up."
"Roger that!" Mira flashed an OK sign, beamed, then jogged back to the others.
A few seconds later, the girls shot into the sky like colorful comets, heading for Extalia.
Roger and Mystogan shared a quick nod and headed straight for the underground palace.
They wound through corridors, passed a few rooms, and finally stopped in front of a massive door covered in intricate runes.
Roger pushed it open. Beyond was a short but super creepy hallway that ended at a control panel blinking with every color of the rainbow.
Right in front of the console stood four five-story-tall stone giants, arms raised like they were hugging the huge golden orb floating above them: the core of Anima.
Roger stared at the slowly spinning sphere. White light flickered across his eyes.
In an instant, thousands of Edolas magic runes and code sequences cascaded through his vision like a waterfall.
Thanks to Lisanna teaching him the local writing system ages ago, he could read every symbol perfectly.
Thirty seconds later, he understood exactly how Anima worked and how it sucked magic from other worlds.
He raised his right hand, palm up.
A gray-white magic circle flashed.
The air twisted and whined.
A fist-sized gray-white vortex formed in his palm, spinning clockwise, giving off a terrifying suction.
Every stray black magic particle in the room suddenly became visible—like startled birds—and got yanked into the vortex, vanishing completely.
Mystogan's pupils shrank. "That's… Anima?!"
"You can use Anima solo?!"
"It's different now," Roger said, focusing on the energy flow. "I rebuilt it from scratch. I call it Absorption Magic."
"It rapidly devours ownerless magic in the environment."
"Crank the power high enough and it can even absorb living creatures, buildings, or active spells, then convert everything into my own magic."
"Of course, the target can't be way stronger than me, or it won't work."
"Convert… living things… into magic?!" Mystogan sucked in a breath, trying to stay calm.
It was like Anima on steroids: instant cast, no giant machine needed, and it could eat spells mid-flight.
Roger tweaked the vortex.
It slowed, then reversed: spinning counter-clockwise.
Pure white magic particles started gushing out like a fountain, flooding the room with dense, high-quality magic.
Roger nodded, satisfied.
"Reverse mode works. Kinda like the reverse of Requip: instead of popping out weapons, I'm pumping out magic."
He pulled a nearly-dead magic crystal from his inventory, placed his hand over it, and spun a tiny reverse vortex on its surface.
Blue magic was ripped out in a stream until the crystal turned completely dull and empty.
"Just like I thought: can forcibly drain stored magic too."
"Draining people will need more practice, though."
He pocketed the dead crystal, then looked back up at the golden orb.
"As for fully reversing Anima…"
He lifted his finger and started writing glowing Edolas runes in midair, each one shooting into the core and merging.
The orb flashed blindingly bright, then settled back to normal.
"Done. Modified the core code. Now I can remote-control it."
"When the moment's right, I'll flip the switch and dump every last drop of Edolas magic into Aslant."
"Now let's go set the stage for the 'god descends' show."
"We'll hash out the details on the way."
"Got it." Mystogan gave a firm nod.
They booked it out of the chamber.
Time flew.
Northern shelter: one hour later
A little girl peeked out from behind the massive stone doors.
"Mom! Mom! It's quiet outside! And the clock says it's time!"
"That nice prince guy said we could come out now, right?"
The middle-aged woman set down the clothes she was folding and gently patted her daughter's head.
"Just a tiny bit longer, Mimi."
"We have to wait exactly like His Highness told us."
She booped Mimi's nose. "And it's 'Prince Mystogan,' okay? He's the prince of our whole world."
"Okaaaay~" Mimi stuck out her tongue, then plopped down in front of an ancient grandfather clock, staring at the second hand like her life depended on it.
When it finally hit 12, she sprang up like a jack-in-the-box.
"TIME'S UP!! WE CAN GO HOMEEE!!"
Her mom double-checked the clock, then turned to the crowd.
"Everyone, time to head back to the capital!"
The shelter erupted into motion: bags grabbed, kids scooped up, one long, quiet line of nervous refugees marching toward the city.
After a long trek, the broken walls finally came into view.
The people at the front stepped through the gate… and froze.
The ones behind crashed into them like dominoes.
"Ow! Why'd we stop?! Move it!"
The lead guy didn't even hear him. He raised a trembling finger toward the central plaza, voice cracking:
"M-M-MONSTER!! THERE'S A GIANT MONSTER!!"
"Huh? What monster? You been underground too long or—"
The complainer shoved forward to see for himself.
His face locked up exactly the same way, mouth wide enough to fit an egg.
"MONSTER!! FOR REAL!!"
In the middle of the plaza lay a dead, Godzilla-sized beast: five stories tall, neck sliced clean open, dark blood pooling everywhere. Weird weapons were still jammed into its back.
Parents frantically covered their kids' eyes.
Then someone spotted it:
"Look! That staff on its back: that's Prince Mystogan's!"
"Did His Highness kill this thing?!"
As if on cue: RUUUMBLE.
The ground shook. Empty lots rose up, and entire buildings reassembled themselves like LEGO.
From the shadows of the rising structures stepped a familiar blue-haired figure.
His cloak was torn, soaked in dried blood, face pale from battle. Hair messy, but alive.
"Your Highness!! You're hurt?!" the front-row man cried.
Mystogan stopped and gave them a tired but warm smile.
"Relax. Most of this blood is the monster's."
"I'm just worn out and my clothes got shredded a bit. Nothing serious."
Everyone let out the biggest collective sigh of relief ever.
Their eyes shone with awe: Our prince took down THAT thing alone?! He's unstoppable!
A young woman looked around, confused.
"Your Highness, where's His Majesty the King?"
"We were told the army was fighting invaders from another world. Is the crisis over?"
Mystogan's smile faded. His expression turned heavy.
"No. The real enemy wasn't from another world."
He paused, letting it sink in.
"The thing that attacked the capital came from deep underground: a monster born from our world's own resentment."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Because we've been draining magic without limits for years… our world got sick. That sickness finally created a creature that wanted to wipe us all out."
He scanned their terrified faces.
"My father fought it with everything he had, but he was ambushed and gravely wounded."
"After I killed the beast, I rushed him to safety for emergency treatment."
"His Majesty too?!" Panic exploded.
Mystogan took a deep breath, voice steady but grave.
"And there's one more thing you all need to know."
The plaza went dead silent.
"According to the monster's final words…"
He let the pause hang like a guillotine.
"Very soon, magic will vanish from our world forever."