The moment she said "forbidden magic," Zoldeo's expression warped.
He went from struggling and making excuses to a flash of panicked exposure—then into something frantic and vicious.
Layla watched the shift with calm eyes, then made her final decision.
"I will always remember the kindness you showed me by returning Capricorn's key. Because of that, I still won't take it from you. It's yours."
She paused, then continued, her voice steady.
"But I cannot forgive what you tried to do to Lucy. I will hand you over to the Magic Council and explain the situation to them."
She looked at Zoldeo deeply, her gaze complicated.
"I can only hope you haven't done anything unforgivable in the course of learning that magic."
With that, Layla waved to the guards, signaling them to take Zoldeo away.
That's exactly like Layla, Shane thought. She values loyalty and old debts, but when it comes to the things that truly matter—her bottom line—she doesn't waver.
From Shane's perspective, if Zoldeo was this unhinged, and he really had been practicing some forbidden art, there was no way he hadn't used it for something. If the Council investigated, his chances were grim.
On the other hand, if he truly hadn't committed any serious crime yet, Layla's choice was a form of mercy—she didn't punish him herself, but handed him over to an authority that could judge and supervise him properly.
Still, there was a gap in the plan.
Shane spoke up. "Layla—if he can use magic, there's a chance he could take down the guards and escape on the way to the Council."
Layla's brows drew together. She'd realized it too.
"Let me escort him part of the way," Shane offered. "It's on my route anyway. I can make sure he doesn't run."
"But you're our guest. That's too much trouble—" Layla hesitated.
Shane waved it off. "No need to be polite. I was planning to say goodbye today anyway. I've been away long enough—I should head back to my guild. This just happens to be on the way."
Layla considered for a moment, then—thinking of Shane's strength—she stopped insisting and nodded with gratitude.
"In that case… thank you. I'll be relying on you."
"Don't worry." Shane smiled and walked over to Zoldeo, who was being held with his arms twisted behind him.
"Then I'll be going. Give Lucy my regards—tell her I'm still waiting for her to grow up and repay what she owes me."
The carriage rolled along a forest road where the morning mist still hadn't fully lifted.
Shane sat atop the carriage, leaning back against the luggage rack, his gaze unfocused as the treetops swept by overhead.
Down in the cabin, Zoldeo was being transported under guard by two Heartfilia men.
Shane's thoughts drifted, circling back to Layla's earlier judgment.
How had she known at a glance that Zoldeo was practicing forbidden magic?
He raised a hand, and Layla's words surfaced naturally in his mind:
"Magic is a reflection of the heart…"
A thought followed.
Could you really judge a person's nature just by sensing their mana?
Then why can't I feel anything?
He stared at his palm, curiosity rising—what did his mana look like, to someone like Layla?
Then he realized something and gave a small, amused shake of his head.
Right… I nearly forgot. Even though my mana finally broke through once, I'm still E+ at best. Of course I can't sense what she can.
Even so, there was no frustration on his face—only an unusual ease.
Because compared to before, he could clearly feel it: over the past few days, his mana had been growing faster than it used to.
That could only mean one thing—his new class-card refinement was finally starting to affect his mana.
And it also meant the Heroic Spirit he'd just summoned wasn't another miserable E-rank mage like Senji Muramasa or Arash.
As long as he kept training steadily, his mana would climb like his other parameters had.
With that security, calm came naturally.
Still…
Shane's focus returned to the present, and his brows tightened.
"We're almost at the nearest town… and he's just behaving? Really?"
When something feels off, it usually is.
He bent a finger and tapped the carriage roof—thunk, thunk—calling down into the cabin.
"How's it looking inside? Zoldeo isn't doing anything strange, is he?"
There was a few seconds of silence.
That brief quiet made Shane's frown deepen.
After a moment, a reply came from below.
"Shane-sama… Zoldeo's condition seems… off. Please come down and take a look."
Not right.
The guard's voice was dull—stiff—nothing like the strong, clear tone he'd had when they set out, as if something muffled it from within.
Out of caution, Shane immediately opened Clairvoyance.
His sight pierced the thin wooden roof, snatching a fragment of the near future—
The moment he stepped into the cabin, the guard who'd answered would lunge, dagger flashing, and stab straight for Shane's throat.
"Tch. Stop the carriage!" Shane snapped, and at the same time he'd already moved—lightly dropping from the roof to the front of the wagon.
The driver instinctively yanked the reins. The horses whinnied, and the carriage slowed to a halt.
"If the guards are compromised, it has to be Zoldeo's doing."
He didn't know how Zoldeo had managed it, but Shane had never been the type to wait for the full picture before acting. Control first. Ask questions later.
A jet-black lasso manifested in his hand again. With a flick of his wrist, it shot through the cabin's curtain.
Zoldeo, bound and unable to dodge, couldn't react in time—the loop cinched tight around his neck.
"Ghk—!"
And sure enough, the instant the rope tightened, the two guards who'd been sitting rigidly inside jerked like puppets on strings.
They both drew their swords in perfect sync and swung at the rope without hesitation.
"So it's true." A cold glint flashed in Shane's eyes.
His other hand formed a solid black staff.
With a snap of his wrist, the staff lashed out—not at the guards, but straight into the wooden side of the carriage.
Boom—!
Wood exploded into splinters. The entire side wall was smashed open and torn away.
The two controlled guards—and a storm of broken boards—were thrown out together, slamming into the grass by the roadside.
Shane flicked a glance their way. He'd heard these were men Jude hired and trained through the mercenary guild—tough bodies. They should live.
With that, he stopped sparing attention and focused entirely on Zoldeo.
The driver had collapsed against the seat, pale as a sheet, but still lucid.
That eased Shane's mind. It suggested Zoldeo's control magic probably had limits—range, conditions, something.
So Shane didn't approach. He stood a few steps back, speaking across the wrecked cabin.
"I don't care how you did it. But if you don't want to be strangled to death—release them. Now."
~~~
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