MENTALITY

Past | Emberium Magic Academy | Conference Room

The conference room is cluttered, every surface buried under stacks of books, scattered scrolls, and ink-stained papers. Shelves rise to the ceiling, overburdened with grimoires, their spines cracked with age. Dust hangs in the air, stirred only by the faint flicker of magical light from the single hovering orb above the table.

Johnny stands at the head of the table, his expression sharp beneath his hood. "We're leading this operation." he says, voice firm— leaving no room for debate.

Sena leans casually against a shelf, arms crossed, a faint smirk on her lips. "Quite a time to be here." she mutters, although her eyes remain alert.

Celeste focuses on a glowing diagram hovering just above the tabletop— a rendering of Ryusaki's magical signature. "Keep in mind." she says without looking up, "He's infused with dragon blood. His combat style relies on short, powerful bursts. We need to wear him down. Drain him before he can unleash that strength."

Sena nods. "I'll put him into slumber the moment I see an opening."

Celeste turns toward Jarkata. "Your thoughts?"

Jarkata's gaze sweeps the room— calm and calculating. "What matters most is slowing him down." he says. "We force him into an unfavorable position. Then, we strike without hesitation."

He meets Celeste's eyes, his voice steady. "You and I are melee mages. Johnny and Sena are long-range. That means we take the front— we do the heavy lifting."

"Yes." Celeste replies quietly. A beat passes before she adds, "And Jarkata… I'm sorry."

He raises an eyebrow. "For what?"

"I was so focused on protecting Emberium that I lost sight of everything else."

Jarkata shrugs— half-dismissive, half weary. "Emotional outbursts happen but we're mages. We don't regret death. It's part of who we are. And we don't get to show affection either. Magic is what defines us. Nothing else."

Celeste shakes her head. "You're a dumbass. I've always known that."

A small smile tugs at the corner of Jarkata's mouth. "Sure but listen, Celeste— if you let emotion get in the way during combat, someone's going to die. And you need to be ready for that. Especially you."

Celeste nods and smiles.

"I was always ready but I will miss this peaceful time. Still, I haven't had a fight between life and death for a long time. So it will provide entertainment." she says, her tone devilish.

Estate of the Dragon Clan | Festival house | Japan

Lanterns flicker softly against walls carved with ancient dragon motifs. Ryusaki sits in quiet confidence at the center, flanked by Akai and Kibo. A sake bottle rests on the table before them, cups half-filled, conversation low and measured.

The temple doors open with a creak, and Oda steps into the room, his presence calm and firm. "Hello, my friend."

Ryusaki lifts his cup in welcome. "Oda. Come and join us."

Oda takes a seat beside Ryusaki, pouring himself a small measure of sake. He raises the cup before drinking. "You did it. The mages are unified."

Ryusaki nods. "Of course. And that's not the end. The Magic Circle still believes they can stop us."

"They can't." Oda replies simply. "We have you. That's enough."

"One slash is all it takes." Ryusaki says, setting his cup down. "They don't even understand what I am."

Akai leans forward slightly, his tone cautious. "Father, don't underestimate them."

"He's right." Kibo adds. "Even if we're strong, arrogance blinds."

Ryusaki shrugs. "Still, surprise is surprise. Have you ever seen a mage destroy an entire capital?"

Kibo shakes his head. "Never."

"Exactly. Because magic has limits but I can destroy cities. So the winner is clear." Ryusaki states.

Oda takes another sip, eyes narrowing. "Your child might be right, though. We can't ignore that history is filled with exceptions— mages who reached power beyond imagination."

Kibo turns to him. "You think they have a prodigy?"

"Maybe." Oda says. "Use your forces— but use them wisely. You're the strongest, Ryusaki. Lead this conflict with your mind, not just your blade."

Ryusaki smiles faintly. "That's true. I will keep that in mind."

Emberium | Private Chambers

Celeste steps into her room, the door closing softly behind her. The chamber is dim. Her gaze drifts to the desk. Folded neatly upon it lies a battle dress— black fabric laced with red stitching, ominous in its elegance.

She picks it up, fingers brushing the weight of the garment. Then she turns to the window, eyes narrowing at the city beyond the glass.

"I'm here to kill him." she mutters. "But something feels off. Why am I hesitating? This… eeriness. It's not like me."

With a quiet snap of her fingers, her eyes shift.

Her left eye turns black, the right a burning red— both marked by white pupils shaped like tiny skulls.

"Better." she whispers.

She raises her hand. Magic pulses through the air.

"Materialize—Soul-Eating Scythe."

The space before her distorts. A massive scythe forms from the ether— the blade a shimmering black curve, the grip crimson and pulsing. Red particles drift from the weapon.

A deep, rough voice— familiar— echoes in her mind.

"So… you're fighting that breed." its grumble echoing in her mind.

"I thought you might be hungry, Mephisto." she replies casually. "It's the perfect opportunity."

"You're far too nonchalant. You used to talk more, remember?" Mephisto chuckles.

"Maybe." she says, eyes gleaming. "But now I'm just… bored."

"That eerie feeling in your gut? That's the good kind. Be honest, Celeste— it excites you"

Her laughter cuts through the stillness, sharp and almost manic. She snaps her fingers again. Crimson hairpins and a matching hairband materialize in her hand.

"It'll be fun. And challenging." she grins, fixing her long hair into a high ponytail, one loose strand curling beside her cheek. "I want to see how far I've come."

Celeste swings the scythe. The red particles scatter into butterflies, fluttering around her.

The dress fits tightly, stitched with scarlet threads. One black thigh-high and one red match the aesthetic of madness. Her eyes glow faintly in the dim light. Her shoes— sleek black leather— feel unusually modern for the time. Everything is designed for comfort.

"So, my girl… time for the hunt." Mephisto says

Her smile is dangerous, lips curling with anticipation.
"Yes." she says, stepping toward the door. "Time for it."

Estate of the Dragon Clan | Underground

Beneath the grand estate lies a vast underground sanctum carved from obsidian stone, humming with ancient energy. Countless glowing runes weave across the floors and walls, their patterns shifting like living script but it's the gates that draw attention— tall, crimson-painted torii, each one marking a path to a different Domain.

Beneath each arch hangs a blackened sign, etched in silver, naming all of them: Arcane Shop, Guardians' Foundry, Arsa Edors, Entiria Magna, Realm Emberium

In front of the last gate, a company has gathered.

Ryusaki stands at the center, two black transcendent wings extending from his back, his expression calm.

On either side are Kibo, cloaked in a ceremonial white robe with a massive odachi strapped across his back, and Akai, wearing red light armor, his crimson eyes sharp, a katana resting at his waist.

Ten warriors from the Dragon Clan form ranks before them— five in white armor glowing with pulsing runes, the other five in deep red plate, each bearing a katana on their waist and a heavy staff strapped to their back. Their presence fills the air with quiet tension.

Ryusaki's voice echoes through the chamber.

"Listen. The Mage Circle elite is in Emberium. That alone wouldn't be alarming— but their true goal is to kill me."

Kibo and Akai exchange glances, silent.

"So they really plan to vanquish you." Akai says, his tone unreadable.

One of the younger mages steps forward, face half-hidden beneath his robes. "If we're going to fight, why not bring the whole clan?"

Ryusaki chuckles. "Because you are the strongest mages we have."

He pauses, scanning the group with a predator's gaze, trying to read their faces.

"My order is simple." he says, voice like steel drawn in the dark. "Kill everyone from the Mage Circle. There aren't many of them. They think a surprise attack gives them the edge. "But a little bird told me where they are. So we are prepared."

Akai's brow furrows. "Master, that's reckless. They're powerful. Why don't we plan an ambush?"

Ryusaki only laughs, wings twitching with anticipation.

"For the past hundred years, they've done nothing. No innovation. No victories. They're a shell of what they once were. And when we crush this pathetic assault—" he raises a hand, fingers curled like claws, "—we'll seize the Circle itself. Reclaim its name. Make the mages glorious again. I'm sick of their decay."

The ten mages unsling their staffs and raise them high, red and white runes flaring to life.

"Ryusaki!" they shout in unison, their voices shaking the chamber.

Ryusaki smiles, fangs showing faintly.

"To Emberium." he declares, "Where we'll burn down this false mage society— and build one worthy of its name."

Domain: Realm Emberium | Fountain Square

With a flash of crimson light, the torii gate pulses. Ryusaki steps through, boots landing silently on the cracked marble of Emberium's central square. The ancient fountain behind him, once a symbol of peace, now runs red. One by one, his elite mages materialize, summoned in swirling bursts of flame and smoke. Kibo and Akai arrive last, marking the command's full presence.

At their feet lie two clan members— bodies still warm, blood pooling beneath their robes. It was fast.

Ryusaki's eyes rise to the rooftop of the Mage Academy.

At the top of the stairs stands Johnny, bow in hand, though no arrow is notched. His gaze is cold, calculating.

To his right is Jarkata, arms coated in thick gauntlets etched with pulsing runes.

Behind them, Sena stands firm in a flowing pink robe, gripping a massive staff crowned with a heart-shaped crystal.

And just above them all, Celeste sits casually on the Academy's railing, her massive scythe on her back— eyes glowing, smile sharp and amused.

Johnny lifts his bow. He fires again— still no arrow. Just silence.

But Akai's eyes flash red.

"Mana infusion to the eyes." he growls. "Break the illusion."

In a blink, the truth reveals itself— an invisible spectral arrow blazing with blue light, racing toward one of Ryusaki's white-robed elites. Akai steps forward, his katana gleaming, and cleaves the projectile in half with surgical precision.

Ryusaki raises his hand, snips his fingers, and smiles. His transcendent wings shimmer, scattering red dust that begins to swirl toward Johnny.

But Celeste leans forward, one hand outstretched. "Enigma - Annulato."

The dust vanishes.

Ryusaki's smile widens. "It will be fun, mages— every one of them will die."

Kibo and Akai nod in sync. Flames begin to gather in the hands of their mages.

Kibo steps forward, voice steady and cold. "Se ta vi — E. S. I."

A massive white shield materializes in front of the clan.

Across the battlefield, the Mage Circle braces for impact.

Celeste rises from the railing in a single, fluid motion, scythe spinning behind her. "If he survives this, we'll all have a bigger problem."

"Two are already out." Johnny mutters.

Jarkata glances toward him. "Johnny… look at your hand."

Johnny glances down— and sees the blood. Two fingers on his right hand are missing, torn clean off. The realization crashes through him like cold water.

Celeste's tone is calm, even amused. "I broke it mid-cast but that tiny moment. It was just enough. Be careful. Only take confirmed kills. Otherwise get the fuck out!"

Sena nods. "Understood, Death Mage."

Celeste turns her gaze toward Ryusaki again. Her eyes burn red. Her smile— feral.

Ryusaki returns the look, a grin stretching across his face.

"She's the strongest so far." he murmurs.

At this moment, Ryusaki draws his sword— and Celeste pounces on him, elegantly.

The ground trembles faintly around them both.