Space collapsed.
Not tore. Not shattered.
Collapsed.
Like a clenched fist closing around reality itself.
Nozel Silva felt it the instant it happened.
Mercury surged instinctively around his boots, forming rigid anchors as the world compressed violently inward.
"Tch—spatial interference," he hissed.
Solid Silva cried out as his footing vanished. "Captain—?!"
Nebra Silva shrieked, illusion magic tearing apart uselessly as her balance failed. "Again?! You've got to be kidding me—!"
Charlotte Roselei's roses erupted into existence, thorned vines lashing into nothingness as space bent unnaturally around her.
Sol Marron growled as the ground gave way beneath her. "I hate this kind of magic!"
Golden Dawn mana flared violently.
Klaus Lunettes slammed his spear downward on reflex, jaw clenched. "Maintain composure—!"
"Mimosa, stay close!" he barked.
Mimosa gasped as plant mana surged around her, heart pounding.
Alecdora Sandler snarled, raw power flaring around him. "Whoever's doing this is dead—!"
Siren Tium's song magic wavered, notes twisting out of harmony.
Hamon Caseus barely had time to curse before gravity ceased to make sense.
Then—
Reality snapped back.
They were expelled.
Stone shattered as ten Magic Knights were forcibly ejected into the central plaza of the Royal Capital.
Dust exploded upward.
Nozel landed first, mercury cushioning his descent as his boots carved lines through cracked stone.
Charlotte twisted midair and landed smoothly, roses curling defensively around her.
Sol hit hard but rolled through the impact, earth magic stabilizing her instantly.
Solid slammed shoulder-first into the ground with a grunt. "Ugh—!"
Nebra stumbled, barely remaining upright. "I swear, if this ruins my cloak—"
Klaus dropped to one knee, spear grounded, eyes already scanning.
Mimosa staggered but stayed standing, breath sharp and uneven.
Alecdora hit hard, rising immediately with fury blazing. "Show yourself!"
Siren steadied herself, breathing controlled.
Hamon groaned, pushing himself up. "Spatial mages should be illegal."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Mana-dense.
The Royal Capital stretched around them—ruined, broken, scarred beyond recognition. Buildings lay in pieces. Streets were fractured and burned. Residual magic lingered like fog after a storm.
And ahead—
Asta. Noelle Silva. Leopold Vermillion.
Surrounded.
The Eye of the Midnight Sun formed a loose encirclement around them, dark-robed figures standing amid writhing, unstable mana. Grimoires hovered open. Curses pulsed like exposed nerves.
Leopold's breathing was heavy, flames flickering erratically around his clenched fists.
Noelle's water shield rotated defensively, her jaw tight with focus.
Asta stood at the center, swords planted, chest rising and falling hard—but eyes blazing.
Charlotte's breath caught.
"…They're children," she said quietly.
Nozel's expression darkened.
"And yet they stand alone," he said coldly.
Sol clenched her fists. "Where's—"
She stopped herself.
Everyone felt it.
The absence.
There was no roaring flame mana. No commanding heat. No overwhelming presence.
Fuegoleon Vermillion was not here.
Leopold noticed it too.
His eyes flicked instinctively—once—before hardening.
"…He's not coming," Leopold muttered.
Asta swallowed.
Noelle lowered her gaze for half a second.
The Eye reacted.
Dark mana surged as the cultists sensed the sudden arrival of high-ranking Magic Knights. Several turned sharply, surprise rippling through their formation.
Alecdora stepped forward, rage boiling. "You monsters—!"
Klaus raised a hand instantly. "Hold!"
Nozel stepped forward.
Mercury rose behind him, forming razor-edged sigils that hovered ominously above the plaza.
"The Eye of the Midnight Sun," he declared, voice carrying authority. "You will not escape again."
Charlotte's roses bloomed violently at her feet, thorns glistening. "You surrounded civilians. You injured children."
Sol cracked her knuckles. "That's enough."
Mimosa's eyes trembled as she looked at Asta. "He's still standing…"
Asta looked up.
His eyes widened. "Captain Nozel—!"
Noelle exhaled sharply. "Captain Charlotte…"
Leopold let out a breathless laugh. "Took you long enough."
The cultists shifted.
Dark spells flared.
Spatial distortion rippled—an escape attempt.
It failed.
Nozel's mercury slammed shut around the distortion like a vise.
"No," he said flatly.
Charlotte raised her grimoire. Roses spiraled outward, forming layered spell arrays.
"Bind them," she commanded.
Sol's earth magic surged beneath the plaza, locking terrain.
Klaus leveled his spear. "Golden Dawn—formation!"
Alecdora's mana erupted violently. "I'll crush them!"
Siren's song magic sharpened, harmonics turning lethal.
Hamon cracked his neck. "Guess this ends here."
The Eye of the Midnight Sun braced.
Curses thickened.
Dark mana pulsed violently.
Above.
Beyond.
Between folded layers of space and concealment—
Lencar observed.
His composite magic vector perception field mapped everything in real time:
• captain-level mana concentrations
• elite knight synchronization
• enemy escape probability—rapidly approaching zero
The convergence was complete.
Nozel's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Magic Knights," he commanded, "chant."
Grimoires flared.
Mana surged.
Voices rose—disciplined, synchronized, absolute.
And the Royal Capital itself seemed to hold its breath.