"Who… are you?"
From the haze of unconsciousness, Teresia blinked at the glowing orb floating before her, a faint frown creasing her brow.
"Foolish assassin—you've even forgotten my name?"
The orb trembled with agitation.
"I am Lumbia Shafolin—great Outer Ring Arcana Mage of the Tower of Chronomancy, sixth-ring Flame Manipulator, Apostle of Withering—one of your superiors within the Zijinghua Empire. I am here, representing the great Sages, to issue you a summons!"
"Never heard of you."
Teresia cut the conversation off, closing her eyes again to rest.
If this so-called Shafolin had come in person, she might have been interested in a little back-and-forth. But for a mere Arcana Message, she couldn't even be bothered to waste the energy for polite pretenses.
Right now she just wanted to wait quietly here… to see how that boastful little prince would fare in a dogfight between himself and the Tower.
Not that she had much hope for him, of course.
And with that mindset, she also wasn't about to tear her mask off in front of the Tower just yet.
Seeing Teresia tilt her head and settle back, the orb's voice grew urgent:
"Wait! Assassin Teresia—how dare you! Are we not allies? I order you to wake up. This is a direct order from your superior!"
"Superior?"
A cold laugh escaped her.
"You know as well as I do, we've only ever been in a cooperative relationship. And since the Tower abandoned me the moment my mission failed, don't you dare talk to me about 'orders.'"
"I'll give you one last chance to state your real purpose. Otherwise, I suggest you stop wasting my time… respected Sixth-Ring Flame Manipulator."
The orb bobbed up and down, as if weighing something. Finally, it chose to yield.
"Fine, Teresia. We admit—our plan has met some… resistance. If you're willing to lend us one decisive hand now, you will have the chance to earn the true attention of the Tower—and the genuine friendship of several Grand Arcana Mages."
"Gold, rare artifacts, forbidden techniques—treasures that can promote you directly—you can take your pick!"
There was a certain special cadence in its words. Teresia's once-lazy posture slowly stiffened, her crimson eyes filling with something close to shock.
As a long-term collaborator with the Tower, no one knew better than her just how deeply those Arcane lunatics' arrogance ran.
Shafolin had claimed it was just "some resistance," but Teresia automatically translated that into:
Linen Norton—that arrogant prince—pulled it off.
Not only had he hindered the Tower's plan as he claimed, he'd done it even better than expected.
The Tower must have paid a far greater price than they had anticipated—so much so that a lofty Sixth-Ring Arcana Mage was willing to stoop and offer such extravagant terms to recruit a mere assassin.
Yes—even now, Teresia still didn't believe the Tower could fail.
Why? Because they had succeeded in similar operations far too many times.
Diplomatic incidents that could be called outright provocations between nations were, to the Grand Arcana Mages of the Tower, just minor detours on the path to the ultimate goal.
And yet the Tower still stood tall. The kings of the continent still greeted its Sages and Rings with smiles. That was its strength.
Linen had said he would prove to her that he had the ability—and the guts—to topple the Tower.
To her eyes… this was enough.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing major,"
The orb's tone was almost careless.
"We simply hope you can get a few people out of the Shadow Knights' prison. They are: Latina Falens, Tarn Kul, Rebellia Kapolis…"
Hearing the long list, Teresia fell silent.
"This list… sounds familiar."
"Ahem… Yes, I know, these are all well-known figures. Of course you've heard of them. It's just that due to some small mishap, they've been temporarily detained. Don't worry—the Shadow Knights won't dare harm them."
The orb's excuse was feeble.
Teresia's attention was elsewhere entirely.
She knew that list all too well—because she had recited it to Linen. It was the list of traitorous mentors, the Tower's high-ranking infiltrators within the Artisan's Association.
She had expected Linen to cause some disruption to the Tower's plan—perhaps make a few of those people pay a price.
But now… it seemed all of them had been thrown in a cell.
That could mean only one thing—
Linen had completely wrecked the Tower's plan.
She had thought him arrogant. She hadn't realized he'd actually been modest.
Teresia found herself forced to redefine the prince in her mind.
If it's him… maybe he really could pull it off…
"Miss Teresia? Are you even listening to me?"
The orb's voice held a note of irritation.
"I'm listening. But given my current situation, it would be difficult to save anyone."
She gestured to the magical shackles on her ankles—not complicated, but with her specialty being Mental magic, she had little raw attack power. Even an assassin found it hard to break out of Eden Academy when shackled at the legs.
"The Maginet links us—I can see your situation. But Miss Teresia… have you underestimated the ability of a Ring's disciple of the Tower?"
The orb's tone cooled.
"What do you mean?"
Her brows drew together.
"I mean… as an Apostle of Withering, even with only the faint magic that can be channeled through an Arcana Message, removing those shackles is child's play."
The next instant, the orb flared with a strange Arcane light, flooding the room.
Everything it touched began to decay before her eyes.
Blooming flowers withered into dust. New books yellowed, then crumbled. The runes etched into the shackles resisted the decay, but the black metal itself corroded in moments, blooming with red rust.
Teresia shifted her legs slightly—crack—the shackles split apart at once.
The power of Withering.
And… the very power her true enemy possessed.
She knew, of course—compared to the actual Ring of Withering, this "Apostle" was a firefly to the sun.
After freeing her, the orb dimmed visibly.
"There. Removing your restraints has nearly drained me. The rest is up to you."
Teresia caught the key detail.
"Up to me? You have no one else?"
"No… but only for now. The vile Shadow Knights have blocked all news of our capture. Sadly, because of the Tower's immense prestige, our colleagues will simply assume their superiors have gone away for a while. It may be some time before they realize we need rescue. For now, you're our only hope."
"That's… not what we agreed on. I may need a new plan."
Her brow arched.
"You don't have to save them all. Just get one of us out, and the Tower's wrath will keep the Zijinghua Empire too busy to deal with you. You'll be rewarded beyond expectation—you might even gain a blessing greater than mine. You could become… Lady Teresia!"
The orb's voice was urgent.
"No, Shafolin-san. That's not what I meant."
Teresia shook her head slowly.
"You may not realize where I am right now. I'm in Linen Norton's room. And he believes I'm still bound—completely unable to escape."
"That damned liar! Traitor!"
The orb cursed twice—then brightened in sudden understanding.
"I see! You mean to kidnap Linen Norton himself, and use his identity to free us? Rest assured—once we're out, I'll make him regret ever being born!"
"No… wrong again."
Mimicking a certain someone, she wagged her finger.
"I mean—I'm not planning to save you at all."
"What?!"
The orb's dying light flared in shock.
"Exactly what it sounds like. I dislike the prince. I intend to take something back from him. But, unfortunately for you, that has nothing to do with your rescue."
A pleased curve touched her lips. In that moment, she felt the same thrill the prince must have felt in toying with her.
Yes—too much emotion could make an assassin slip. But playing with an enemy like this… was intoxicating.
"You… you traitor! How dare you mock the great Tower—you will—"
The orb's last glow winked out.
At the same time, in a certain anti-magic prison, a handsome man in shackles slammed a fist into the wall.
"Shit!"
Back in the dorm, Teresia flexed her freed wrists and ankles, crimson eyes thoughtful.
She had changed her opinion of Linen—enough not to kill him outright.
A fallen prince who could ruin the Tower's plan with a bad hand of cards… killing someone like that would be a waste.
But that didn't mean she would forgive him.
Imprisonment, drugs, hypnosis—everything else he'd done to her… She would settle that account.
Not to mention—her Terminal Bullet was still in his possession. That had to be recovered.
No rush, though. That smug prince who thought he controlled everything… he'd never imagine she'd already slipped free.
She would prepare a surprise for him. One he wouldn't see coming.
At that moment, in the lobby below, Linen strode into the dormitory.
A dorm supervisor called to him:
"Linen-kun, while you were out, there was some noise in your room. Are you keeping a pet?"
"Noise?"
Whatever flicker passed through his eyes, he smoothed it away, smiling.
"Yes—my apologies. It's just a stray kitten I picked up. Sorry for the trouble."
The supervisor waved it off.
"Oh, no problem. Though… if you'd like some tips on keeping a cat—"
"Thank you, Ms. Rona, but I should probably see what sort of mess she's made of my room first."
Smiling, Linen cut her off. Inside his sleeve, he slid a Terminal Bullet into the chamber of his mithril pistol.
His room was at the far end of the third floor, set a little apart from the others. He slotted the key into the lock, turned it, and then kicked the door open.
The curtains were drawn—just as he'd left them—casting the room in shadow. Two bedrooms: one for himself, the other, a side room, for holding Teresia.
That door was shut tight.
Linen stepped in. The door swung closed behind him on a draft.
And from right behind it, a pair of crimson eyes—glowing even in darkness—slid open.
Expressionless, Teresia tightened her grip on the club in her right hand—and swung hard at the back of his head.
Bang!
A split second later, her expression shifted sharply.
Linen had turned, finger on the trigger. The bullet sheared half her club away. If not for the subtle nudge of her Mental Curse, throwing off his aim, that shot would have gone straight through her skull.
She didn't hesitate—dropping the club, stepping in close to jam his fire-arm, forcing the fight to close quarters where she could dominate.
In the dark, she was sure—reaction speed, close-combat skill—in all of it, she could suppress him.
And then—her expression changed again.
Because Linen had discarded the now-spent, high-powered pistol in his right hand… and rolled up his sleeve to reveal a tiny revolver in his left.
Her own sidearm.
Loaded with a Terminal Bullet—one hit, and any Arcana Mage was finished.
"Damn you—you actually came in with two guns ready!"
She gritted her teeth, realizing why he'd kicked the door in.
Linen only smiled.
"Wise choice, Miss Teresia. If you insisted on testing whether the gun or the fist is faster at three steps… things might have gotten unpleasant."
"Bastard…"
She had no choice but to retreat.
A few minutes later, Linen stepped out to find the dorm supervisor still waiting.
"Linen-kun, there were some noises—was there trouble?"
"None, ma'am. Just my kitten misbehaving. I've taken care of it."
He smiled.
"Good. But, Linen-kun, I know students can be softhearted… still, for a disobedient stray kitten, some discipline is necessary."
"Thank you for the advice."
After sending her off, Linen shut the door, turning to face the red-eyed girl behind him—bound hand and foot, gagged with a towel, glaring molten fury at him.
She was otherwise unharmed—save that her shoes and socks were gone, her pale feet propped on a chair.
"Miss Teresia, you heard her. The teacher says… a disobedient kitten should be punished."
"And now… it's punishment time."
Linen smiled lightly, drawing a fluffy cat teaser from his pocket.
Teresia's eyes suddenly went wide with fear.