"Squelch!"
When the blood sprayed out, even Bastemon itself had not expected that this single thrust would pierce the Blood Princess's chest so easily. It had thought...
In its shock, Bastemon jerked its head up, and its gaze met Ophelia Brad's eyes.
In those eyes it saw no pain, no hatred—only a tenderness soft as water.
"It's finally about to end."
The Blood Princess parted her red lips, and a faint smile crossed her pale face.
In that instant, an utterly bizarre fluctuation surged out of the void.
That thread of fluctuation spread out at once like ripples across water, piercing through layer upon layer of secret passages and passing into the barrier that shrouded the Castle.
Countless stars were suddenly mirrored across that barrier, only to flash and vanish in the same breath.
Professor Medea abruptly reached out and pulled, drawing from the air a line shimmering with starlight. She stared at it and said gravely, "The Ritual is almost complete."
…
The predawn sky cast down its bright starlight, and the ancient Castle stood silent beneath the cover of the barrier.
Not a sound, not a breath of aura leaked out.
The people in the tower dormitories were sunk deep in their dreams; not one of them sensed the change unfolding within the Castle.
Nearly half a second passed.
Only then did Virt Gold, hidden with Robert behind the plaster statue of Pancham, jolt awake from the sight of Ophelia Brad's chest being run through.
The thoughts he carried were tangled and contradictory.
Where Ophelia Brad's being of the Demon race was concerned, reason told him to treat her as an enemy, but his heart could not do it at all.
Watching Dark and Ophelia clash fiercely before him, he had no idea which side he should stand on.
When Ophelia Brad had first been stabbed from behind, his longing for his mother had won out, and he had charged forward heedless of everything.
But Ophelia Brad had then healed that wound completely, and he had let out a heavy breath of relief.
So this time, when Bastemon's sword pierced Ophelia Brad's chest, he instinctively assumed she could heal just as fast, and he was a beat slow to react.
It was only when that bizarre fluctuation suddenly rose that he noticed something seemed wrong with his mother's expression.
That look, as though she had utterly let go of everything, stirred a terrible premonition in the naturally keen-sensed Virt Gold.
"No!"
He tore forward as if gone mad.
Even Robert could not hold him back.
…
The "Hero", running.
The "Demon King", about to fall.
The "Hero's Rival", who had run the "Demon King" through with the "Hero's Sword".
…
Dark watched this scene, his face heavy with gravity.
At the moment that thread of bizarre fluctuation had arisen, he too had felt some change he could not quite define.
But when he reached out his hand, he could not grasp it; the gaps in what he knew and had learned left him, in this instant, faintly lost.
"What just happened…"
Dark stepped forward without thinking.
Ophelia Brad, who played the role of "Demon King" in the Ritual, swayed on the edge of collapse, yet did not truly fall.
Bastemon wrenched sharply, tearing the Holy Sword out from Ophelia's chest, but it did not follow with another strike—instead it took half a step back on reflex.
"Get away!"
Virt hurled himself forward and swept his "Holy Sword" toward it.
Bastemon parried with a casual stroke, shattering that "Holy Sword" conjured by the "Holy Sword Spell" into powder.
But neither of them paid the sight any mind.
Bastemon did not stop Virt from drawing near.
And Virt no longer looked at it—he flung his arms around Ophelia Brad's collapsing body.
With trembling hands, he laid his mother's body down flat.
That blood-red long hair spilled loose across the ground, blooming like a red flower.
Blood was flowing from Ophelia Brad's chest.
The "Honedge", infused by Bastemon with blood energy, had triggered that energy the instant it pierced her body, disrupting Ophelia Brad's Blood Magic and preventing her from healing herself at once.
Yet if she had wished it, disruption of this degree would not have been hard to break.
Lying in Virt's arms, Ophelia Brad tilted her head slightly, gazing at her child's face, and could not stop another smile from surfacing.
She had not meant to reveal her identity, but her child had recognized her the moment he laid eyes on her.
It left her both glad and troubled.
She had not wanted her child to feel life's greatest joy and deepest grief back to back in so short a span—but sometimes fate simply left no choice.
Humans, in the face of a destiny they cannot change, are truly fragile.
"Virt."
Ophelia Brad forced her hand up and stroked Virt's cheek with cold fingers, her fingertips suddenly trembling.
After so many years, she finally felt the warmth of her child's skin again.
So warm…
Ever since she had followed Medea into the academy, she had been secretly watching over her child.
The result was far better than she had imagined.
In her eyes, Virt was truly outstanding.
Though he could not match those few other children, Virt was earnest in class, did his homework properly, ate his meals well, was very healthy, and his magic power was growing splendidly.
For a child raised without a parent's guidance, that was rare beyond words.
Before she had met Virt, she had always assumed he would turn out like Bright—mischievous, skipping homework, forever late, docked points by the professors every day.
But it was not so.
Virt was truly remarkable.
She was comforted, and felt that even without her, Virt could grow up just fine.
"Call me Mother one more time."
Ophelia Brad spoke with effort.
But Virt pressed his lips tightly together, only looking into her eyes, saying not a single word.
It was as if he had a premonition—that the moment he cried out "Mother", the mother he had finally found would truly leave him for good.
Ophelia Brad was not disappointed by his silence. In the end she thought for a moment and said, "That I never stayed to watch you grow up—that was my wrong."
"You can trust Medea. She'll take care of you."
"And—don't hold it against Alvit's child."
As she said this, Ophelia Brad noticed Virt's face twitch.
She went on with effort, "Mother knows this is a hard thing to ask of you, but all of it was Mother's fault. Dark is a very good child; I can always see Alvit's shadow in him. I truly hope the two of you can become friends."
"Mother!"
Virt could hold it back no longer and cried out.
Hearing it, Ophelia Brad's smile grew all the sweeter.
Her right hand drooped to the ground, the Magic Guide Card beneath her fingertips glowing with a faint light.
The instant that Magic Guide Card activated, she slowly closed her eyes.
"Mother!"
Virt burst into wailing sobs.
…
"The 'Demon King' is dead."
Dark Demon, who had come to their side at some unknown moment, fixed his gaze intently on Ophelia Brad's face.
The death of the "Demon King" meant the Ritual had reached its end.
But at the same time, it also meant the beginning of the "Forging"!
If all went smoothly, Ophelia Brad would not truly die.
The "Demon King's Embrace" within her body would be used as the sacrifice for the "Newborn Demon King", transposing the concept of "Procreation" onto Vampire Vlad, so that Vampire Vlad would be reborn—in the form of a Magic Guide Spirit!
Everything had been set in advance.
Dark did not need to do a thing; he only had to wait for events to unfold.
Once the Magic Guide Spirit Card of "Vampire Vlad" was formally forged, Ophelia Brad, too, would be reborn as the "Embrace" was drawn out of her.
In this world, where one could gaze directly upon the soul, so long as there was sufficient preparation beforehand, death would never be the end.
"The professors should be able to enter now, as well."
Dark reached up and teased out from among his strands of hair that wisp of the "Blessing of the Wind Spirit", pouring a thread of magic power into it.
Then he let go, letting the fresh breeze slip back to hide among his hair.
All the while, his gaze never once left Ophelia Brad's face.
But the stir he had expected did not come.
Ophelia Brad had, it seemed, simply died like anyone ordinary.
Half a minute later.
Dark's head snapped toward the still-weeping Virt, and it struck him all at once that the words Ophelia Brad had spoken in her final moments had, through and through, been the shape of last words.
"What's going on?"
The sense of doubt he had carried all along suddenly erupted.
Dark clenched his fists without thinking.
After a while, as if he had realized something, he at once drew out the Magic Guide Card of "Drifloon", then strode over to the bottle beside them that held Vampire Vlad's soul.
Ophelia Brad's original intent had been to revive Vampire Vlad.
Dark did not believe that this had been a lie, for she had no reason at all to lie about such a thing here.
But now, Ophelia Brad had outright abandoned her intent to revive Vampire Vlad—what on earth was she trying to do?
Was there some far more important purpose?
"Demon, you look confused."
Just as Dark was growing more and more restless, Ryan Hacks appeared at his side.
"Professor!" Dark whipped his head around and demanded, "Can you tell me the real reason you came to the academy?"
A flicker of helplessness passed through Ryan Hacks's eyes. "I've told you before…"
Dark said, disappointed, "In that case, I hope you won't ask anything of me, either."
The words were barely out before he had already poured magic power into the Magic Guide Card of "Drifloon".
"In the name of Dark Demon, Magic Guide Summon—'Drifloon'!"
That mutated Magic Guide Card abruptly bloomed with a red light like blood.
The "Drifloon" slumbering within was forcibly summoned out.
But it did not wake; it drifted in the air with its eyes shut tight.
"It won't work?"
Dark strode swiftly back to Ophelia Brad's side, lowered his head, and studied her wound closely.
A hero of the Golden Generation, the last inheritor of the Blood Clan, the chosen object of the Demon King's Embrace.
How could she possibly have died so easily?
…
As Dark grew restless over this, the same expression surfaced on Medea Bartholomew's face.
She paced back and forth inside the Pumpkin Carriage, murmuring, "That's not right, that's not right. The star representing Lia has dimmed, but the burst of vitality that should have followed has not appeared. The forging of 'Vampire Vlad' has not begun… yet the Ritual's course should not have been altered. Where exactly did it go wrong? Silf, Silf?"
Her head snapped toward Professor Silf.
But Silf was staring, her expression grave, at the [Wind Spirit] floating before her, attempting to speak with Dark.
Her voice had not reached him, but Dark's thoughts had already reached her first.
That [Wind Spirit] had compiled Dark's thoughts into words.
Silf shot to her feet and said, "Ophelia is dead. Get ready—I'm entering the Ritual."
This time, before Medea could stop her, she had already turned into a wisp of fresh wind and howled out of the Pumpkin Carriage.
In that instant, the whole Ritual underwent a violent shift because of her entry.
The Ritual that had already stepped into its final stage, after surging upward in a flash, was once again extended.
…
As Dark examined Ophelia Brad's wound, he suddenly noticed the Magic Guide Card pinned beneath her left hand. He crouched and reached out to pick it up.
Virt instinctively moved to shove him away, but halfway through the motion he remembered Ophelia's final words, and with a sharp sniff of his running nose, he drew his hand back.
Dark picked up the Magic Guide Card without trouble and at once turned it over.
This was plainly not a Magic Guide Spirit Card; the face of it bore only two lines.
One was a straight blue line, the other a curved red one.
The two lines ran parallel at first, only bending sharply at their ends.
Dark frowned. "What kind of Magic Guide Card is this?"
"It's the 'Grand Prophecy'."
Ryan Hacks's voice suddenly rang out, answering Dark's question.
"The 'Grand Prophecy'?"
Dark jerked his head up to look at him, his eyes glinting.
Ryan Hacks weighed his words. "I've seen this Magic Guide Card. I don't know how she got hold of it, but this card should originally have belonged to the Holy Church as one of its secret treasures. It's one of the rare few in this world—a true divine card that can genuinely interfere with fate!"
A true divine card meant a card that held the "power of a god" within it.
Dark paid no mind to gods or the lack of them. He strained to recall the knowledge Professor Medea had once taught in Astronomy class: "'The Grand Prophecy' can, on the foundation of a prophecy, interfere with fate and twist it. But some hold that it merely lets a prophet observe another track of fate diverging from the one within the prophecy—another course of destiny that runs a different way."
Ryan Hacks added, "That's how it works, but in truth it's not as useful as one might imagine. What I mean is, its real effect isn't ideal at all."
"But this is a secret passage of St. Marian's Academy!"
Dark stared hard at the "Grand Prophecy" in his hand, his eyes flickering.
The appearance of this "Grand Prophecy" had at last opened up his line of thought, and all at once the clues in his mind linked together.
Everything Ophelia Brad had done up to now seemed, finally, to have a workable explanation.
"She wanted to change fate."
"She wanted to kill the Demon King!"
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