"I never expected Leor's brother to be a member of Shinseiki. Anyway, you must've heard of me from Leor. I'm Vane Lorraine."
Vane slowly got up from the ground, patting the dust off his clothes with a calm expression.
"Vane Lorraine..."
James eyed the man cautiously. Then suddenly, his mouth twitched—like he had just remembered something.
'Eldest of Royal House Lorraine… I don't know much about him, but there are royals who are Numina. Since they have superior access to information, resources, etc…'
Vane clenched his right hand into a fist and slammed it against his chest—hard. The impact was so forceful it was as if he was trying to break his ribs.
James instantly recognized the salute. His pupils dilated. Then, after steadying his nerves, he mirrored the gesture with practiced ease.
"I am an Archbishop of the Church, currently deployed at the headquarters in Wellington," Vane said with a friendly smile.
James, however, immediately reacted. He dropped to one knee, his right knee on the ground while his left remained in front, bowing deeply, not daring to look up.
This was the standard salute for anyone ranked below an Archbishop. After all, to become one, you had to be at least a Priest or a Cavalier—positions of great prestige. The Archbishop was the third-highest authority in the Church, just below the Cardinal and the Pope.
"Please, don't. You're my elder and my friend's brother. There's no need for formalities between us," Vane said, slightly flustered. In reality, he had only gained the strength of an Archbishop—not the title, authority, or lifestyle. He was merely a student under the Cardinal. He wasn't used to being treated this way.
"I understand, Your Excellency." James immediately stood, keeping his tone respectful.
"I've already sent my messenger to the Church," Vane said with a smile.
Leor wasn't paying attention. He had seen this scene play out countless times.
'This could work. I only need to keep James alive… Then we won't have to face that monster…' Leor thought silently.
Suddenly—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three polite knocks echoed through the room, making all three of them fall silent, exchanging glances.
"Leor… is this—?" Vane asked, sensing an immense pressure from the main door.
Leor nodded. "Kill him. No matter what."
With a single swift movement, he flipped the wooden dining table onto its side.
CRASH! SHATTER!
Plates still half-filled with food hit the stone floor, spilling their contents. Leor crouched behind the overturned table, his gaze locked onto the mirror in Vane's hands.
A faint scent of gas filled the air. Everything was going according to plan.
Vane immediately understood.
He touched the reflective surface of the mirror, pressing his fingers gently against the glass.
"Silver veil, now take my hand,
Hide that man within your land!"
He chanted in a barely audible whisper. The moment the words left his lips, an ethereal, almost blinding light shot toward Leor.
In an instant, Leor—along with the overturned table—vanished. It was as if he had never been there. The mirror disappeared with him. Only Vane knew where.
'I already know when and where he'll move.'
Leor turned his head toward the beautiful revolver resting on the table.
'If I shoot him at the right moment… Vane can finish the job easily.'
Hope flickered in his eyes.
'No one has to die.' thought Leor, steeling his nerves.
"He can move at the speed of sound and launch near-invisible attacks from anywhere, completely at random," Leor's familiar voice echoed from an empty corner of the room.
Vane's eyebrows lifted slightly, while James' eyes widened to the limit. He immediately understood.
'A Cavalier… I'm not his opponent.' thought James, analysing.
James took a sharp inhale, calming his nerves.
'Doesn't matter. I can still help.'
He turned to Vane, who simply looked… intrigued.
A small wave of relief spread through James.
'Leor has a plan. His Excellency should be able to handle him, and I'm not completely useless. Plus, we have a backup plan. Even an unprepared enemy at his level can still fall.'
Then—
A sudden, horrifying sensation.
James' entire body—his heart, liver, skin, even his hair—began vibrating.
It felt like he was plummeting from thousands of feet in the sky.
Immediately, he coated his organs, skin—his entire body—with raw Aether, dampening the vibrations. But he still shivered like he had a fever.
'As expected… He's unaffected.'
James glanced at Vane, deep in thought, strategizing how best to support him.
"Are you okay?" Vane asked, sensing his gaze.
'If he hadn't reinforced himself, this could've torn his organs apart. He's no ordinary Squire… He's close to evolution.'
But—
Something was wrong.
Vane's expression darkened.
James frowned, tilting his head. Why was Vane mouthing words at such a critical moment?
Then—
His eyes widened in realization.
He had spoken.
But there was no sound.
Vane saw his reaction and nodded, confirming his suspicion.
"Can't have those guys tracking us. I expected to kill ants today, you know… This pisses me off."
A deep, sharp voice rang out from beyond the door.
Then—
BOOM!
The doors exploded inward, flying straight toward James like they'd been hit by a cannon.
James reacted instantly.
His knuckles split open, blood dripping from his fingers. He winced silently.
And then—
His bones extended, tearing through his flesh, forming a grotesque, armor-like exoskeleton over his hand.
As the doors hurtled toward him, he swatted them aside with a casual flick—like brushing away an insect.
The wood shattered into pieces, hitting the ground with a dull, soundless thud.
As the dust settled, a masked figure stepped into view.
Their attention immediately snapped to the mask.
A grotesque chicken mask.
Unnervingly detailed, crafted with almost obsessive precision to resemble a chicken's head. The eyes—hollow, like someone had scratched out two crude circles with a blade.
Deeply disturbing.
The figure stood deathly still.
He was dressed sharply—a plain white shirt tucked into black pants, a long, thin coat draping to his knees. Polished leather shoes gleamed under the dim light.
Then—
He lunged forward.