Cold air filled Toki's lungs.
Not the metallic tang of blood.
Cold. Clean. Real.
He stood before the manor gates.
The moon hung high and full, pale and indifferent. Silver light washed over the stone path, the trimmed hedges, the tall black windows of the estate.
For a moment he simply stared.
Then he began to laugh.
It started as a breath.
Then a broken chuckle.
Then something unstable and jagged tore out of him.
"I came back at the right time," he whispered, half-delirious. "I actually came back at the right time."
His hands trembled violently.
He pressed his palm against his face, trying to steady himself.
"I can fix this."
He walked forward.
Then he ran.
The manor doors burst open with a violent crack against the walls. He didn't care who he woke. Didn't care about suspicion.
Footsteps thundered through marble corridors.
Portraits rattled slightly as he passed.
He didn't slow.
The Library.
He reached the heavy double doors and threw them open so hard one hinge shrieked in protest.
Inside, candlelight flickered across towering shelves.
Leonard looked up slowly from a leather-bound tome, one eyebrow lifting with mild surprise.
"Oh," Leonard said calmly. "You returned earlier than I anticipated."
Toki crossed the room in three strides and dropped into the chair across from him.
He forced his breathing to steady.
Leonard studied him quietly. The silence stretched.
Toki managed a thin smile.
"Leonard… I remembered a few things I wanted to ask you about. It won't trouble you, will it?"
Leonard took a slow sip of whiskey, the amber liquid catching candlelight.
"I did tell you," he said smoothly, "that I would offer you all the knowledge I possess."
He poured a second glass and slid it across.
Toki took it. His fingers were slightly damp.
He drank.
The burn grounded him.
Focus.
"I discovered," Toki began carefully, "during prior investigations… that the Star Collector generates a miasma. It spreads through the city and triggers violent tendencies in those exposed."
Leonard's gaze sharpened.
"The Star Collector you described before controlled reflection and refraction. He created beasts. Now you're describing atmospheric corruption."
Toki felt sweat bead at his temple.
"...It appears there may be more than one."
Leonard leaned back slowly.
"Well. That would complicate things."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Have you seen this one?"
"No," Toki said immediately. "The miasma appears to rise from the ground. I observed it through spiritual sight."
Leonard's fingers tapped lightly against his glass.
"If the miasma isn't visible to normal sight, then it's likely diffused through a catalyst. Mana-based dispersal. Did everyone lose control simultaneously?"
"No. Gradual. It spreads."
"Then it originates from a fixed point."
Leonard leaned forward.
"Were you affected?"
Toki hesitated.
"I've been exposed multiple times," he said. "But never succumbed."
Leonard's gaze lingered on him longer than comfortable.
"You are a knight of the Darkness Division. Alongside illusion generation comes heightened resistance to illusion-type interference."
He paused.
"Tell me. Is there a consistent precursor?"
Toki swallowed.
"There's always a smell first."
Leonard tilted his head.
"What kind?"
Toki's jaw tightened.
"Blood," he said quietly. "And rot."
His throat constricted as memory surged—
The marketplace.
A woman biting her child's throat.
Teeth tearing through skin.
Warm arterial spray across cobblestone.
He forced the images down.
Leonard nodded slowly.
"I believe I understand."
Toki's fingers tightened around his glass.
"Mana," Leonard continued, "is life-force. It can create sensation. Hallucination. Influence perception. If the miasma induces homicidal mania gradually, it's not poison."
"It's illusion?" Toki asked.
"Induced distortion," Leonard corrected. "The smell you perceive is likely the first layer. A suggestion. A psychological trigger amplified through mana saturation."
Toki's pulse pounded in his ears.
"So the smell isn't real."
"Not physically. But your mind responds as though it is."
Leonard's voice softened slightly.
"High resistance does not mean immunity."
Toki stared at the floor.
Had he been affected?
Had even a fraction of his rage been planted?
He remembered hacking off his own leg.
The sound.
The bone.
He blinked.
"Mana can do that?" he asked.
Leonard almost smiled.
"Mana can do anything. The divisions simply refine it. Illusions. Flames. Constructs. All variations of one current."
Toki leaned forward.
"What do you think this Star Collector's full ability is?"
Leonard shook his head lightly.
"I cannot speculate without observation. But if he uses miasma as environmental pressure and beasts as physical force, he understands layered warfare."
Toki exhaled slowly.
"Is there a way to stop it?"
Leonard's fingers brushed his chin.
"There are two ways to interfere with mana."
"Tell me."
"Absorb it."
Toki stiffened.
"That would harm you severely."
"And the second?"
"Overwhelm it."
Toki blinked.
Leonard gestured with his hand, tracing a wave through the air.
"Imagine mana as a vibration. If you introduce a stronger wave into the same space, the weaker wave bends. Collapses. Is absorbed."
Toki's thoughts accelerated.
"In one area," Leonard continued, "multiple mana signatures may exist. But only the dominant one manifests."
"If a wave meets a larger wave…" Toki murmured.
"The smaller is swallowed."
Hope flickered violently in his chest.
"But my black mist can only cover a limited area."
Leonard nodded.
"Then use a catalyst."
"A living one?"
"If possible."
Toki shook his head.
"Not feasible."
"Then use crystals. Rune-etched anchors. Expensive, but effective."
Toki froze.
Crystals.
Runes.
Mana saturation.
His eyes widened.
"I have dozens," he said suddenly.
Leonard raised an eyebrow.
"Do you?"
"From before I advanced my cultivation. Before I learned control. I stored excess mana constantly. The crystals are filled."
Leonard blinked once in genuine surprise.
"I had nearly forgotten how unstable your reserves were at that stage."
Toki stood abruptly.
"How do I use them?"
"If they are pre-saturated," Leonard replied calmly, "you need only to position them strategically around the city's perimeter. Once activated, they will extend your mana field. The dominant signature will be yours."
"And his miasma—"
"Will fail to manifest fully. Or at least weaken."
Toki's chest felt too tight.
Could this be it?
Could this be the first real counter?
He drained the rest of his whiskey in one swallow.
"You're a lifesaver, Leonard."
He turned toward the door immediately.
"Wait," Leonard began.
"You will be here," Toki interrupted quickly. "I know. Thank you."
He didn't let the older man finish.
He was already moving.
The hallway felt colder now.
Quieter.
As he strode toward his chambers, the moonlight through tall windows seemed… sharper.
Almost blue.
He stopped briefly.
Why does it feel wrong?
He inhaled.
Nothing.
No blood.
No rot.
Good.
Good.
"It seems Utsuki went to her room."
For a moment he stood and looked at the bed, remembering how he had put her to bed before he left.
He reached his wardrobe and tore it open.
Inside, neatly arranged in velvet-lined compartments, sat dozens of translucent crystals—each etched with black runic script.
He lifted one.
It pulsed faintly.
His mana.
Old. Unrefined. Violent.
He remembered those days.
Mana spilling uncontrollably from his pores.
Nosebleeds.
Fingernails cracking from internal pressure.
He shook the memory away.
He grabbed a satchel and began stuffing them inside.
One.
Two.
Five.
Ten.
Each crystal hummed faintly as if sensing his proximity.
He slung the satchel over his shoulder.
But as he turned—
For the briefest second—
He thought he saw something move in the corner of the room.
A distortion.
Like heat over sand.
He froze.
Silence.
He activated spiritual sight.
The room shimmered.
Normal.
Empty.
His heart thudded heavily.
Paranoia.
That's all.
He exhaled.
Then paused.
There it was.
Faint.
So faint he almost convinced himself it wasn't real.
A scent.
Metallic.
Distant.
He stiffened.
He rushed to the window and flung it open.
Cold night air flooded in.
He inhaled deeply.
The scent faded.
Just imagination.
Just memory residue.
He gripped the windowsill until his knuckles turned white.
"If you're watching," he whispered into the night, "watch closely."
He turned back toward the door.
This time—
He didn't see the distortion behind him.
And in the library below, Leonard sat in darkness long after Toki left.
The candle had been extinguished.
But his eyes remained open.
The moonlight spilled across Toki's room in silver sheets.
He stood by the window, unmoving.
Outside, the trees swayed gently in the cold wind. The estate grounds looked peaceful.
His fingers rested against the glass.
Behind him, the door creaked open softly.
Utsuki's voice came gently from the doorway.
"You're still looking at the moon?"
Toki exhaled slowly and forced the tension out of his shoulders.
"It's beautiful tonight," he said.
She stepped closer.
"What was all that noise earlier?" she asked. "You nearly broke the library doors."
He turned then.
For a fraction of a second, something desperate flickered in his eyes.
Then he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms.
Utsuki blinked in surprise—but she didn't resist.
Her hands slowly came up around his back.
"You're very affectionate tonight," she murmured softly. "Are you sure everything is alright?"
He buried his face in her hair.
She smells clean.
Alive.
Warm.
Not blood.
Not smoke.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Now everything will be fine."
Now I know what to do.
Now I have a way to fight back.
He pulled back just enough to look at her.
His hands moved to her shoulders.
"Utsuki. Tomorrow—under no circumstances—do not come to the city."
She frowned slightly.
"But Kandaki's examination…"
"It's postponed," he said immediately.
She studied him carefully.
"Toki."
"There are suspicious cult movements inside the capital," he continued, voice firm. "The exam is temporarily canceled. So you will not come into the city. Do you understand?"
There was steel in his tone.
Not a request.
An order.
Utsuki stepped back half a pace.
"I think," she said softly, "you should stay home tomorrow too."
For a moment, something cracked inside him.
Stay.
Hide.
Pretend it isn't coming.
He shook his head.
"I promise," he said, forcing calm into his voice, "after tomorrow, I'll stay. I just need to patrol once more before sunrise. Just to be certain."
Utsuki sighed quietly.
"Fine," she said. "But be careful. I don't want to lose my knight."
The words pierced him deeper than any blade.
You already did.
Twenty-eight times.
He smiled gently instead.
"Don't worry," he said. "I'll do everything right this time."
He leaned down and pressed his forehead briefly against hers.
Then he stepped away.
He didn't look back as he left the room.
If I look back, I won't go.
The hallway felt colder now.
Darker.
He walked outside toward the paddock.
Umma stirred as he approached.
The massive bird tilted her head, feathers rustling irritably.
She let out a low grumble.
"I know," Toki muttered. "I know."
He brushed a hand along her neck.
"You don't want to leave. Neither do I."
For a split second—
He saw it.
Feathers exploding.
Bone snapping.
Her body torn apart mid-stride.
His jaw tightened violently.
He mounted her in one swift motion.
"Let's go."
Umma leapt forward, powerful legs beating once before she surged into the treeline path.
Behind them, in the window above—
Utsuki watched.
Her hands rested against the sill.
She felt it.
Something wrong.
Something unsaid.
The way he held her felt like goodbye.
She hugged her arms around herself.
"He'll be fine," she murmured.
A voice spoke from behind her.
"I wouldn't worry too much."
Utsuki flinched.
Leonard stood in the doorway.
She hadn't heard him enter.
Moonlight cut across his face.
"You startled me," she said.
He gave a faint apologetic smile.
"My mistake."
He stepped closer, hands folded behind his back.
"Toki is closer than he has ever been to overcoming this problem."
Utsuki looked at him sharply.
"What problem?"
Leonard's gaze drifted toward the window.
"Every knight carries a burden," he said smoothly. "Some are heavier than others."
She searched his face.
"He's been acting strange," she admitted. "Like he's bracing for something."
Leonard nodded slowly.
"Yes."
A pause.
"But growth is painful."
The wind outside shifted.
For the briefest moment—
Utsuki thought she smelled something strange.
Metallic.
Faint.
She frowned slightly.
"Do you smell that?"
Leonard's eyes flicked toward her.
"Smell what?"
She inhaled again.
It was gone.
"Nothing."
Leonard studied her for a long second.
Then he smiled softly.
"You are a truly admirable lady, Utsuki."
She blinked.
"What?"
"To remain steady beside a man walking into darkness," he continued gently. "Not everyone can do that."
Her jaw set.
"I will do whatever is necessary."
Leonard's smile deepened—though something unreadable flickered behind his eyes.
"Yes," he said quietly. "You will."