"By the name and honor of Barthomeloi, I swear to bring the true culprit of this affair—Rhodes Frain Yggdmillennia—to justice!"
Draped in a deep crimson coat, Lorelei shouted from the podium, killing intent and fury pooling across her normally severe features.
There was no doubt about it. Her retreat at the harbor had become the darkest stain of her life. Barthomeloi never retreated. Even when facing one of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors—the White Wing Lord—its magi would charge forward without hesitation, gladly perishing alongside their enemy.
And yet this time, Lorelei had fled with her Clone unit, slinking back to the family's headquarters. It was a disgrace carved into Barthomeloi's reputation, one that had already begun to corrode Lorelei's standing.
Inside the lavishly decorated council chamber, however, no one seemed particularly moved.
Aside from Lorelei's impassioned tirade, the noble lords seated on both sides wore expressions of calm detachment, as though watching something mildly amusing.
Rhodes had dealings with these nobles in the shadows. Few of them were willing to offend a man with such limitless potential for the sake of Lorelei alone.
Of course, if Barthomeloi managed to capture or kill Rhodes, they would not hesitate to descend like jackals, tearing into the corpse and extracting every last scrap of value from his research.
Perhaps this, too, was aristocratic elegance.
"Ladies and gentlemen! You may not yet understand just how vital a 'Creator' is to a foundation-poor family like Yggdmillennia!"
Lorelei slammed the podium, her fervor reminiscent of a certain bombastic politician from another world.
The great houses remained unmoved.
Rocco Belfeban, who had only recently sold a Holy Relic to Rhodes, didn't even bother hiding his yawn.
"Damn it…"
Frustration flickered across Lorelei's face. This was no rally, and her audience was not a crowd easily swayed. These were veterans of political struggle, men who had spent decades navigating intrigue.
Without tangible benefit, none of them would commit resources to hunting down Rhodes based solely on Lorelei's judgment.
"How much did that bastard give you people?!" Lorelei roared.
The lords watched her like spectators at a circus, utterly unconcerned.
"That damned man… he's infiltrated the Clock Tower this deeply already…"
"Boom!"
A deafening explosion rolled across the town.
Lorelei turned sharply toward the window.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass, the symbol of the Clock Tower itself—the ancient structure dating back to before the fifteenth century—was slowly collapsing.
Dust and smoke erupted from its base. Falling debris buried several weaker magi alive. The immense tower toppled sideways, crushing even the governing offices of the Barthomeloi family beneath its weight.
This was retaliation.
Blunt, unmistakable humiliation.
"This is the monster you indulged!" Lorelei screamed, her voice breaking. "We vote now. Any noble who agrees to assassinate Rhodes will become an eternal ally of Barthomeloi!"
Silence answered her.
The nobles watched the Clock Tower fall with expressions of indifference.
After all, that tower belonged to the Department of Law. Some even considered it private Barthomeloi property. Its destruction was a severe blow to Barthomeloi's authority—exactly the sort of spectacle these onlookers delighted in. Why would they lift a finger to help?
If anything, how many among them had quietly nudged events along, pleased to see Barthomeloi insulted so openly?
◇◇◇
On a highway outside Trifas, Romania.
The explosion of an RPG-7 had turned the smooth road into a field of craters. Even the maid drivers had to navigate carefully to avoid the worst of the damage.
Rhodes didn't care about scratched paint. He did care about being forced to walk all the way into Trifas because of a broken car.
While the maid carefully guided the sedan through the ruined stretch, Rhodes and RyuZU stood by the roadside, surveying the aftermath of the battle.
"They were weak," RyuZU said calmly, lowering her skirt. The twin scythes—still spotless—slid back beneath the gauze fabric. "Compared to you, Master, the difference is like fireflies against the moon."
"Hah?" Rhodes snorted. "They were trash that only knew how to fight. Stack trash together and all you get is a bigger pile of garbage."
"A fitting metaphor."
A hoarse voice spoke from behind them.
Rhodes' expression changed instantly. He crushed the gemstone at his belt. As it shattered, vast magical power surged.
A colossal azure hand manifested behind him and slammed toward the source of the voice.
"Oh?"
The newcomer advanced instead of retreating, driving a fist straight into the blue hand.
"Boom!"
The impact blasted Rhodes away along with the spell itself. Time warped—and RyuZU appeared behind him, stumbling as she caught him in her arms.
"Impressive," the man said. He was a blond, middle-aged figure, his weary face carrying an overwhelming air of authority. "For a magus, you're among the very best. If you were older, you might even have become a Heroic Spirit like us."
"Interesting," Rhodes replied, regaining his footing with RyuZU's support. "Even Bigby's Interposing Hand couldn't stop you. What exactly are you?"
"Whatever you are," Rhodes continued lightly, "a Heroic Spirit dug out of the dirt or a lowly bat—makes no difference to me."
"Oh?" The Heroic Spirit's tone was calm, almost admonishing. "You're arrogant. But do you truly possess the right to be? As a mortal, offering loyalty to a king would suffice. Kneel, bow your head, and enjoy the bliss of ignorance. Why resist?"
"The stupidity of those in power…" Rhodes laughed softly, something savage flickering in his eyes. "Unknown Heroic Spirit, you don't seriously think you've already won, do you?"
"Do you still believe you have room to struggle? Wait—that is—"
The Heroic Spirit's expression changed.
In front of him, Rhodes was holding a small black sphere, smiling with open mockery.
"Whether I can resist is not for you to judge," Rhodes said coldly. "You're nothing more than a Heroic Spirit. Don't get too full of yourself."