The frontlines were at their breaking point. The soldiers, battered and exhausted, fought with every ounce of strength they had left. One soldier's weapon shattered against the hide of a mid-class demon, yet he refused to fall back, using the broken remnants as a desperate tool to fight.
The Vermillion Princess stood amidst the chaos, her sword stained with the black blood of countless demons. Her arms trembled from overexertion, but her resolve remained unshaken. Every swing of her blade was a plea to hold the line, to give the people just a few more precious moments.
Niwa Yori, the head maid, was a blur of relentless motion. Her once-pristine uniform was tattered and soaked in grime, yet she continued cutting down demons with precision. The civilians, though not warriors, threw whatever they could to slow the demon tide—rocks, broken planks, anything within reach.
Then, amidst the chaos, a mid-class demon broke through the weakening line, leaping toward the defenseless civilians. Panic gripped their hearts as they braced for the end. But the fatal blow never came.
A faint light flickered above, catching everyone's attention. A small crack had formed in the sky, and from it radiated a brilliant glow. The demons paused in their advance, their forms trembling as the crack widened. Slowly, one by one, they began to dissolve into ash, their bodies disintegrating as the light consumed them.
The battlefield grew silent as the demons vanished. The humans, battered and weary, stared at the widening rift in awe and disbelief. The Vermillion Princess dropped to her knees, the weight of relief and exhaustion overwhelming her. She fell back onto the ground, staring up at the fractured sky.
"It's over..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
In that moment, magic circles formed beneath each human's feet, pulsating with a soft, warm light. Before anyone could react, the circles activated, engulfing them in a radiant glow. One by one, they disappeared, transported away from the battlefield.
The subspace had collapsed, and their trial had finally ended.
The Immortal Palace, once a symbol of grandeur and power, now stood eerily quiet. Its vast grounds, usually bustling with the high-ranking officials and imperial dignitaries, were deserted. Soldiers patrolled the periphery, ever-vigilant but on edge, their gazes constantly shifting toward the central hall where the artifact had been placed.
Inside the palace, near the artifact's resting place, a group of experts worked tirelessly, each one scrutinizing the ancient object that had caused so much chaos. They pored over scrolls and documents, exchanging theories and futile attempts to understand how it functioned. But despite their collective expertise, no solution had presented itself. The artifact remained an enigma, its power seemingly dormant but ominous.
The air was thick with frustration. It had been 26 hours since the catastrophe had unfolded, and still, no one had any answers. The fate of the Vermillion Princess, Takigawa Rei, and the Crown Prince was unknown. Their names, along with the others who had been dragged into the subspace, lingered in the air like a heavy weight.
The Emperor, standing in the imperial court, his face twisted in anger, was demanding answers. His voice echoed through the grand halls, sharp and unforgiving. The loss of his son, the Crown Prince, and the esteemed Vermillion Princess, was a devastating blow to the empire's stability. His pride and anger burned hotter than ever as he issued order after order.
"Why is there no plan?!" The Emperor's fury was palpable, and his officials and advisors cowered beneath his gaze. "If they are lost, the responsibility falls upon all of you! Every one of you will face the consequences!"
The room was silent, save for the uneasy shuffle of feet. The Emperor's eyes narrowed as he scanned the group, finally resting on the artifact that had triggered this catastrophe.
The reports about the Dark Magician, his goals, and the chaos he had unleashed swirled around the Imperial Court. It was clear that the magician's intentions were rooted in vengeance against the empire, using the very people the empire cherished most to make his point. His goal was to expose the suffering that had been inflicted upon others by the very systems of power that ruled the empire. And the very names of the Crown Prince and the Vermillion Princess were crucial to his plan—two figures who symbolized the highest authority of the empire. Their loss, or worse, their death, would send a message that would shake the entire empire to its core.
Yet, despite the efforts of the brightest minds, the artifact refused to yield its secrets. They had no way to retrieve those trapped in the subspace, no way to reverse the damage done. Every minute that passed felt like a lifetime, and the Emperor's frustration grew with each passing second.
In the midst of all the uncertainty, the soldiers guarding the palace were the only ones left holding steady, their faces grim, knowing that the situation could spiral into something far worse if the artifact's secrets remained hidden.
The artifact glowed intensely, its light spreading across the Immortal Palace grounds like a pulsating beacon. The experts immediately backed away, their expressions shifting from confusion to alarm.
"Who activated it?!" one of them shouted, eyes darting nervously toward the glowing artifact.
"This shouldn't be possible! We haven't deciphered anything!" another expert exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief and panic.
The artifact's glow intensified, and intricate magical runes began to form around it. Then, in an instant, teleportation magic circles appeared in multiple locations across the palace grounds. The soldiers on guard, unsure whether to attack or defend, held their weapons at the ready but were too stunned to act.
Moments later, figures began materializing within the circles. Gasps echoed through the palace as the kidnapped individuals reappeared one by one, each in the exact spot they had vanished from.
Near the stage where the Vermillion Princess had been taken, her form began to solidify. Takigawa Rei emerged, battered, her once-pristine clothing stained with demon blood and dirt. She stood tall, though exhaustion was evident in her posture. Her eyes scanned the familiar surroundings, relief and weariness written across her face.
In the Vermillion Pavilion, Niwa Yori, the head maid, appeared. Her usual composure was replaced with visible fatigue, but she held her head high as she glanced around, ensuring the others had returned safely.
Above the Imperial Pavilion, the unconscious Crown Prince lay sprawled on his seat, his injuries evident but his breathing steady. The guards immediately rushed to his side, shouting for medics to attend to him.
At the Golden Dragon Pavilion, Urakawa Miharu appeared, her sharp gaze taking in her surroundings. She was alive and seemingly unharmed, though her expression suggested she'd been through an ordeal far greater than most could endure.
The atmosphere was thick with shock and relief as the palace erupted into motion. Soldiers rushed to assist the injured, while experts scrambled to make sense of the artifact's sudden activation.
The Emperor, standing at the edge of the central hall, watched the scene unfold with wide eyes. His composure, usually unshakable, faltered for a moment. Relief and fury fought for dominance on his face, but he turned sharply to his advisors and barked, "Secure them all and get immediate medical attention! I want answers about what happened—now!"
As the survivors were helped to safety, murmurs began to spread among the palace staff and soldiers.
"Did they escape on their own?"
The return of the kidnapped individuals raised more questions than it answered, but one thing was clear: their ordeal in the subspace had ended, and they had emerged alive. Yet, as the light from the artifact dimmed, its surface now cracked and lifeless, a sense of unease lingered in the air. The artifact had fulfilled its purpose, but at what cost?
In the center of the chaos, the artifact's faint glow dimmed, leaving behind a magic circle pulsating with residual energy. Within it, a figure materialized—Seta Tadao, the Dark Magician. His once-confident demeanor was gone, replaced by desperation as he crawled backward, his body trembling. His eyes darted wildly, as though searching for an escape.
A shadow loomed over him, and Rin stepped into the circle, his form illuminated by the golden flame of his katana. He was a sight to behold—bloodied, bruised, and battered beyond recognition. Dirt clung to his tattered clothing, and fresh blood dripped steadily from the gash on his forehead.
The flaming sword in his hand seemed to radiate an unrelenting fury, its golden flames dancing hypnotically. Rin's breath was heavy, his body clearly at its limit, but his resolve never faltered. He advanced, step by agonizing step, toward the trembling Dark Magician.
"Imperial Order 523," Rin's voice rang out, steady despite his condition. "By the Empire's investigation, it has been confirmed that Seta Tadao is guilty of the following crimes: embezzlement, genocide…" Rin's eyes narrowed, his tone sharpening as he continued, "...and most recently, the kidnapping of Imperial citizens. As such, the punishment is no longer banishment but death."
Seta Tadao froze, his blood turning cold. That decree—it was one he had read long ago, issued by the Hoshimi family. But how could this warrior standing before him know of it? His eyes widened in horror as realization dawned. He stared at Rin's face, searching for confirmation, and then he saw it—the unmistakable resemblance to him.
"You're Ho—!" Tadao's words were cut short, not by fear but by steel.
Rin moved in a blur, his katana slicing cleanly through the air. The golden flames trailed behind the blade, painting an arc of light as it severed Tadao's head from his shoulders. The Dark Magician's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, the circle of golden fire around Rin casting an almost holy glow over the scene.
For a moment, there was only silence. Rin stood still, his katana lowering slowly as the flames began to flicker and fade. Blood dripped from his fingers to the ground, mingling with the ashes of the fallen Dark Magician.
Finally, Rin exhaled, a mix of exhaustion and finality in the sound. The nightmare of the subspace was over.
The Vermillion Princess, Takigawa Rei, stood frozen, her gaze locked onto Rin's form. The golden flames of his katana were seared into her mind—a brilliance that eclipsed even the fiery elegance she herself wielded during her sword dance. Unlike her flames, which surged with passion, his were controlled, purposeful, and unyielding, as though they could consume anything in their path without hesitation.
But as her eyes traced the dazzling trail of light left by his sword, they shifted to his condition. Blood trickled from his forehead, staining his face and neck, dripping down his hands, which trembled ever so slightly. His clothing was shredded, and every inch of him bore the marks of a battle fought far beyond the limits of his body.
Rei remembered the moment he had left. That confident, reassuring smile he'd given her—it had seemed so light, so free of worry. Now, as she stared at him, she realized how heavy that smile must have been. Rin had carried the weight of their survival alone, rushing headlong into danger, knowing the odds and the time limit. He had pushed himself beyond reason, beyond exhaustion, to see this through.
The crowd, civilians and soldiers alike, looked on in stunned silence. Those who had once berated Rin, blaming him for the Dark Magician's wrath and for their suffering, now felt their hearts sink. Seeing him stand there, bloodied and barely upright, they understood the truth. He wasn't their enemy—he had been a victim too. And yet, he had fought to protect them, even when they had turned against him. Regret twisted their expressions as they whispered among themselves.
The Emperor arrived at the Immortal Pavilion, his presence commanding the attention of all. He glanced briefly at the Crown Prince, who was being carefully tended to by medics, then turned his eyes to Rin. His breath hitched. There stood his other son, the imperial prince who had chosen a life outside the palace walls. But Rin was unrecognizable now, his noble demeanor buried beneath the dirt, blood, and pain of his sacrifice.
The Emperor's gaze shifted to the lifeless form of the Dark Magician at Rin's feet. The conclusion was undeniable: it was Rin who had ended the nightmare, who had saved the kidnapped citizens and destroyed the subspace.
As the onlookers watched, Rin raised his katana one last time. The golden flames flickered brilliantly before he swung it to his side in a graceful arc, extinguishing the light in a display of mastery. He sheathed the blade with precision, every movement slow and deliberate, as if marking the end of a long and arduous journey. The air seemed to still as the sound of the blade locking into its sheath echoed through the pavilion.
Then, his body wavered.
Rei's eyes widened as Rin stumbled forward. His katana clattered to the ground, and his knees buckled. With his last ounce of strength, he looked up, his expression unreadable, before his eyes fluttered shut.
He fell forward, collapsing onto the bloodstained ground.
The Vermillion Princess rushed forward, her heart pounding in her chest. Around her, the whispers turned into cries of alarm. But in Rin's still form, there was an undeniable peace, as though, despite everything, he had finally allowed himself to rest.
Rei knelt beside Rin, her hands trembling as they hovered near him, unsure whether to touch him or not. Her heart ached as she gazed at his pale face, streaked with blood and dirt. She felt powerless—a feeling she had never encountered before. Rin had always been her reliable partner, the one who matched her in strength and precision during their sword dances. He was supposed to be just a warrior, a talented one, but now, looking at him like this, she realized he was so much more.
Her chest tightened. She wanted to cry out, to call for help, but before the words left her lips, someone stepped forward. It was as though her silent prayer had been heard.
"Stand aside," a calm, authoritative voice broke through the chaos.
Rei looked up to see a man she recognized instantly: Terada Ken, the Royal Doctor, known for his brilliance in all matters of health. He had been a constant figure within the Imperial Family, overseeing their well-being with unmatched expertise. If anyone could save Rin, it was him.
Ken knelt beside her, his expression composed but focused. He glanced at Rei briefly, assessing her condition. "You are unharmed, just exhausted," he stated plainly. "You need rest, Princess. But for now, please move aside."
Rei hesitated. She didn't want to leave Rin's side, but the urgency in Ken's voice left no room for argument. She nodded reluctantly, stepping back to give him space.
Ken's eyes fell on Rin, and though his face betrayed no emotion, a flicker of concern passed through him. He knew the truth—the man lying before him was no ordinary warrior but one of the Empire's imperial princes. He had cared for Rin since he was a child, watching as the boy grew into the man he was now. And now, seeing him in such a state, his chest tightened with a sense of duty and worry.
Following the Emperor's direct order to prioritize Rin, Ken quickly set to work. He examined Rin with precision, his fingers moving methodically as he checked for fractures, wounds, and signs of internal damage. Though Ken had sworn an oath to keep Rin's identity a secret, he couldn't help but feel a personal responsibility to ensure the prince's survival.
"The situation is critical but not irreversible," Ken murmured, more to himself than anyone else. He pulled out a small pouch of medical supplies, preparing to stabilize Rin's condition. Around him, soldiers and civilians watched with bated breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all.
Rei, standing a few steps away, clenched her fists as she watched Ken work. Her mind raced, memories of their partnership flashing before her eyes—the way Rin had always fought with such grace and determination, the way he had faced insurmountable odds with a quiet strength that inspired everyone around him. And now, seeing him like this, she realized how deeply she had come to care for him.
As Ken applied his expertise, Rei whispered softly, almost inaudibly, "Please... please save him."
Ken worked with precision and urgency, his hands steady as he cleaned and bandaged the wound on Rin's head. Once the bleeding was under control, he paused, noticing something remarkable—Rin's mana was faintly stirring, attempting to cast a healing spell even in his unconscious state. Despite being at the brink of death, Rin's body instinctively fought to survive.
Ken's brows furrowed. "Even now, you're still fighting," he murmured under his breath. Without wasting time, he retrieved a small vial of mana potion and carefully administered it, tilting Rin's head just enough to help him swallow.
The effects were almost immediate. Though faint, the spark of mana within Rin began to stabilize, and the healing spell he was subconsciously casting started to take effect. Ken observed as Rin's complexion improved ever so slightly, his breathing becoming less labored.
Satisfied, Ken signaled the medics who had arrived with a stretcher. "Take him to the emergency room immediately. His condition is still critical, but his body is responding to treatment. Handle him with care," he instructed firmly.
As the medics carefully lifted Rin and carried him away, Ken stood and turned to the Vermillion Princess, who had been watching with a mix of hope and worry etched across her face.
"He'll be alright," Ken assured her, his voice calm yet authoritative. "His body is still fighting to recover. He was in a state of mana exhaustion, which blocked his healing ability. I gave him just enough mana to activate his natural recovery process. With time and rest, he'll pull through."
Rei's shoulders relaxed slightly at his words, though her worry didn't completely fade. She nodded, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she watched Rin being carried away.
Ken glanced at her once more before bowing slightly. "Rest assured, Princess. I will personally oversee his recovery." With that, he turned and strode off, heading toward the Emperor to deliver his report on Rin's condition.