Assad stood in the middle of the smoky hall, his chest rising and falling rapidly, hands shaking as the glow of his aura began to fade. Around him lay shards of porcelain, broken marble, and twisted metal, scattered like remnants of a battle frozen in time.
He gazed at what used to be a table, now reduced to rubble, its blades still smoking and the rocket tube warm from the recent explosion.
"...Did I just… weaponize a table?" he whispered to himself, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and fear.
Crouching down, he reached for a sharp piece of metal. It hummed softly, still vibrating with his red aura. He instinctively pulled his fingers back.
"Wait… hold on." He stepped back, running his hands through his hair. "Did this… happen because I wanted it to? Or… am I just imagining things? Did I really—"
A flash of memory from the fight surged through him: the frustration, the anger, the feeling of helplessness, and that voice in his head shouting, if only this damn table was destructive!
He swallowed hard.
"...No. That was me. That was really me."
Assad's eyes widened as he looked down at his hands again, now glowing a faint red. The warmth of the aura lingered, pulsing gently like a heartbeat.
"So… I can turn things… into weapons? Just by thinking about it?"
A chill ran down his spine. He glanced around the devastated hall, noticing pieces of the dolls twitching, struggling to piece themselves back together. What he just did even though he could not believe it, it was without a doubt very powerful. But one thing ran through his mind: he is really below the scale of power.
Shuren hasn't told him the full explanation of Kakurei,but it has to be known that he is very down since it's only been a few days since he got accidentally injected with the sacred water. So it's a huge mystery to even attempt to solve.
Assad took a shaky breath, trying to shove the lingering fear aside. He wiped the soot and dust from his hands and surveyed the wreckage of the hall. The walls were cracked, the ceiling creaked under the weight of the mansion's twisted design, and broken porcelain dolls lay scattered on the floor, twitching in an eerie manner.
"…Yeah. That's enough of staring at my own reflection for one day; it's starting to get really disgusting, even for me," he muttered, flexing his fingers.
He swallowed hard.
"I… I should find… whoever's still alive. We need to get the hell out of this—whatever this is."
Meanwhile, in the shattered ballroom, Sévon, Taura, Esme, and Lokei stood in a tense semicircle. Dust floated down from the ceiling, and the air buzzed with the residual energy from Sévon's Reflecting Hurl.
Across from them, Mischa hovered slightly above the ground, her legs crossed and chin resting on her hand. Her mismatched eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Well then," she purred, "how about we kick off our dear second round… shall we?"
Before anyone could reply, she raised her hand and began snapping her fingers—click… click-click… Click… click-click-click… The rhythm was sharp, almost regal, like something out of a classical symphony.
Esme blinked. "Is she… snapping a piano melody? It almost sounds like the tune the founding emperor created. Beethoven, right?"
Taura's ears twitched in confusion. "How the hell should we know? But you might be onto something with that guess."
As the melody swelled, the marble beneath their feet began to tremble. Hairline cracks spread like lightning, the floor groaning as if something massive was trying to break through.
Sévon's stance tightened. "Everyone brace yourselves!"
With a violent CRACK, the entire floor erupted upward. Marble slabs flew like shrapnel as something colossal forced its way from the depths. A massive doll, easily three stories tall, rose from the ground. Porcelain plates shifted like armor, gears grinding ominously inside its chest.
Four mechanical arms clicked into position, each gripping a different weapon: a cannon, a massive blade, a chain-sickle, and a spiked hammer. Its eyes glowed a chilling blue.
Taura and Sévon gaped, caught between horror and disbelief.
"What… is THAT?" Taura squeaked out.
Sévon's jaw tightened. "Something we were NOT ready for."
Meanwhile, Esme and Lokei stood frozen, their eyes wide, voices overlapping in perfect harmony, like two kids having the time of their lives:
"WOAAAH."
Mischa chuckled, clearly thrilled, leaning forward as her legs swung lazily in the air.
"Oh, I just knew you'd love this one! Isn't she a beauty? Now then…"
With a snap of her fingers, she added one last touch.
"Try not to die too quickly, okay?"
"Esme. Lokei. Get it together." Sévon barked, his voice firm and commanding.
The two blinked, still dazed by the towering, weapon-laden monstrosity before them. Sévon then pointed at Lokei and said,
"You're up."
Lokei sighed dramatically, like someone who'd just been asked to do the dishes.
"Yeah, yeah, sure… but seriously, if my clothes get ruined again, I'm gonna lose it. I am NOT washing this outfit more than twice. This stuff is pricey."
Esme raised an eyebrow.
"Priorities, huh?"
Lokei brushed her off, reaching behind him. From the small bag strapped to his back, he pulled out two short, polished sticks, each barely the length of his forearm.
He snapped them together, and a crackle of energy burst forth. The sticks elongated, metal rings sliding into place with a satisfying shnk-shnk-shnk until a long, solid staff formed, sleek, heavy, and humming with potential. Still smaller than he wanted… but it was growing.
Esme's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Damn. Monkey King vibes."
Taura jumped in immediately.
"Yeah… seriously. That's some Monkey King energy right there."
Lokei spun around, his glare sharp.
"STOP calling me that."
Taura crossed her arms, her expression as cold as ice.
"But if Tasia were here, you definitely wouldn't say that."
Lokei froze.
"Wh—why are you bringing her up right now.This is NOT the time!" Lokei exclaimed, a faint blush creeping up his ears.
Esme shot him a smirk. "Looks like we hit a nerve."
Without taking his eyes off the giant doll, Lokei aimed the staff at them. "You're all the same. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE OF YOU."
Both girls responded with a collective, "Damn."
Lokei rolled his shoulders, spinning the staff once as sparks flew up from the ground beneath it. His expression turned serious.
"Alright. Let's take down this oversized teacup."