The spear's point dragged across the surface of the Holy Bell with a sound that would set anyone's teeth on edge.
An unimaginable force surged through the relic and slammed into the old man like a runaway train. The sheer agony of the impact forced a terrified scream from his lungs as blood churned within him, eventually erupting from his mouth.
"What... what kind of weapon is that?!"
He was driven backward, his heels skidding across the dirt.
Wayland gripped the long spear with his right hand and gave a sharp, concentrated shove. Magical energy surged along the length of the blade, erupting in a violent vibration that slammed into the Holy Bell once more.
The air was filled with a high-pitched wail.
The old man could feel the Holy Bell's pain.
He realized then that he couldn't afford to continue this head-on clash. That spear was on an entirely different level from the Holy Bell,it was a Mystic Code of a far higher order.
With a sudden burst of energy, he leaped backward, frantically spinning the hour hand to the one o'clock position.
Brilliant holy light erupted, weaving together into a hazy, translucent mist. The old man's figure began to blur, becoming as indistinct as a shadow cast by the moon.
Wayland lunged forward again.
His body spiraled through the air, the tip of his spear striking the ground and sending a cloud of dust into the air. A sudden, thunderous roar echoed across the plain.
The spear began to glow with the intensity of a lightning strike.
Before the old man could react, massive pillars of pale purple lightning erupted from the ground around him, forming a jagged cage that perfectly tracked and pinned down his movements.
The sky seemed to turn pitch black in an instant.
The only light remaining was the faint, struggling glow of the Holy Bell.
Wayland spun the spear in his grip. He stood on the ground, his face pale and devoid of emotion. As he opened his right palm, the spear's movement ceased instantly.
The air around him was suddenly sliced apart, the vacuum extending like a razor-sharp blade until it was inches from the old man's face.
The old man clutched his forehead.
But the blood wouldn't stop. A fine, needle-thin crack had appeared, extending from the top of his skull all the way down, severing his connection to life.
Before the lightning could finish him, a faint, ghostly light flew from his split form.
A soul.
With a face twisted in unspeakable terror, the soul found itself trapped within the lightning cage.
In that moment, an even more brilliant light flooded the area.
It was the Holy Bell. Twelve hour-hands manifested across its face, corresponding to every possible hour and minute.
A hairline fracture appeared between the three and four o'clock marks,a sign of the damage it had sustained,but its power remained undiminished. Twelve beams of light, following a precise and lethal trajectory, erupted forward.
They tore through space, shattering the lightning cage and vanishing along with the soul remnants in an instant.
Wayland skidded forward half a meter before suddenly dropping to his knees.
His body began to grow translucent, as if he were about to undergo a final, ethereal ascension.
["This is bad... Master's body can't sustain my Spiritron form!"]
Irigal's voice rang out inside his mind, sharp with frustration. She stamped her foot,figuratively speaking,her tone bordering on a pout.
["They got away... and I worked so hard on that cage... ugh... I really am..."]
The surge of disappointment vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She began to scroll through the system logs within her consciousness.
["My Spiritron form has already altered Master's body. Recovering naturally is impossible. The best solution is to find Aozaki Touko. Let's see... where is she?"]
Windermere.
The beautiful Lake District of northern England. A world-famous resort and the home of Peter Rabbit.
Beyond the majestic mountains and serene lakes lay a vast, emerald-green expanse of grassland.
Touko Aozaki was currently making her way toward the Twin Towers of Iselma.
She stopped suddenly, turning her head.
A massive, unrestrained aura was approaching.
The leather bag in her hand began to vibrate violently, the zipper sliding open just enough to reveal a pair of glowing, predatory eyes.
"Are you excited? Or are you trembling?"
Touko narrowed her eyes as the figure from the distance landed silently before her.
"Way... Wayland?"
She asked the question with a hint of uncertainty. The person standing before her bore a striking resemblance to Wayland, but she quickly dismissed the thought. The creature inside her bag wouldn't react like this to a mere fledgling-rank magus.
The being in front of her was unmistakably a Grand-rank magus.
A stranger.
'When did another Grand appear in this world?'
Touko watched him warily. "What do you want?"
"I want to commission you to create a perfect puppet body."
The request,and the unexpectedly feminine voice,surprised her. Touko thought for a moment before replying, "If you have a reward that interests me, I'm willing to accept the contract."
"The whereabouts of Aozaki Aoko."
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]