Chapter 9

The world slowed. I stared at the Apostle, thinking over what options I had left. My shield was in the middle of recovering; any spell I tried wouldn’t be strong enough to block the incoming attack, and taking the hit would incapacitate me long enough for whatever the Apostle used next. I held out my hand in a vain attempt to generate a rock wall to try to mitigate the lightning damage I would take. But then, I saw it. A bullet colliding with the head of the Apostle, disintegrating against his mana shield, but still causing him to recoil his head back, knocking off his balance, and forcing his scythe to slice awkwardly through the air and missing me by the slimmest margin.

Even dealing with all those mages, she still manages to rescue me.

I pressed a hand to the ground beneath me and blasted it with a torrent of wind, launching me into the air. I then conjured my manifestation, a magical handgun, and continually shot it. Each shot connected with the Apostle, still being mitigated by his shield, but the force of the impact causing him to recoil. Still in the air, I reached a hand behind me and conjured another gust of wind, launching me closer to the Apostle while I rained a hail of magic orange bullets at him. He had to shield himself and did not retaliate, which gave me the opening I needed.

With my manifestation in one hand still firing, I brought my other hand above my head, and a small spark formed that started to arch out to each of my fingertips. It was like a small Tesla coil in the palm of my hand. It was a high form of lightning magic, but rarely used or attempted as, much like all forms of magic in this school, it was hard to control and chaotic in nature, acting erratically and very rarely doing what you actually wanted it to do. But this was a last-ditch attempt and something I needed to try to knock out this Apostle with the opportunity that Marie gave me. I continued firing my manifestation as I fell toward the Apostle. The energy in my hand crackled, the lightning arcing out of my hand and connecting to random various other points. I felt it spark against my mana shield, piercing through it and singing my arm.

“With the storms we hold no power, hurricanes we run, but here I hold and beseech the nature of it all; I call upon you...” I landed on the Apostle, slamming my hand with the lightning in it into the Apostles shield, and shouted. “TESLA!”

It was a flash of white, a flash so bright it blinded anyone who watched. With it, a thunderous explosion rang out. In the same instant I was slammed into the ground from the force, the impact knocking the air from my lungs, my manifestation dispersing and I coughed, gasping for air. I peeked over at the Apostle, and my eyes widened as he was still standing upright, smoke billowing out from him. But he didn’t move. Then, finally, he fell over, his back impacting the ground with a loud thud. I let out a deep sigh as I slowly brought myself to my feet and staggered over to him. I stood over the mage, the impervious shadow of his hood still obscuring his face. I brought out my manifestation and aimed it at his head. I was about to fire, but something else grabbed my attention.

I quickly looked up and aimed my weapon at the figure that was standing in front of one of the buildings. It was a man in a disheveled white shirt; dirty and half tucked into an equally dirty and torn pair of black jeans. He was hunched over, his messy and shaggy black hair obscuring half of his face. His hands were in his pockets, with his index and little fingers on the outside of them. He stared at me, and I hesitated to attack him. Then, he took one of his hands out of his pocket and pointed over at a door; it was the one that Marie and I believed where the target was located and where we were headed. My face scrunched in cautious confusion. Then he spoke. It was a strained voice, obviously coming from someone who normally doesn’t speak loudly.

“What you’re looking for is in there. The door is sealed with a magic lock, but you’re probably able to break it. Especially after seeing that spell.” The man put his hand back in his pocket with the awkward position. “If you leave that Apostle, and any other mages you or your companion haven’t killed, alive, then you can take her and leave. Does that sound fine?”

He stared at me. And even though there was some distance between us, I could see the darkness in them. They were like bottomless pits that lacked empathy. Yet I could sense he was telling the truth. Something that radiated from him made me trust him. I lowered my manifestation and dispersed it.

“Agreed, mage. What is your name?”

“Ichiro.”

“Just Ichiro?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, Ichiro. I thank you for not escalating this further. I am Ryuki Yagami.”

“I know. By the way you didn’t kill Kyosuke did you?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged.

“Tall guy, muscular. First one to react to you two attacking.”

“Oh, no, I only knocked him out. Got distracted before I could.”

“Good. He’s like a brother to me. Anyway, you better get moving. Once the big shots realize you took out an Apostle they’ll send more.” Ichiro opened the door behind him and was about to step inside, but turned his head to say one last thing. “Oh, Yukino Kurosawa is still alive. She’s like a sister to me.” He then went inside and closed the door.

I narrowed my eyes at the door, confused over Ichiro’s words. Then, I felt someone poke my back. It was a soft, small finger, and I realized it was Marie. I turned around and saw Marie covered in bandages that she made from tearing up her shirt and pants. Her face was covered in blood, her one eye forced closed, and her other arm and leg covered in scratches.

“Mari-”

She shushed me instantly.

“Objective first. Let’s move.”

I nodded.

We were at the door of what looked like an ordinary storage facility, out of place in this compound as it seemed like it belonged on a school ground. I pressed my palm to the handle, and transparent blue shards exploded out from behind it. I then swung the door open, Marie clicking on a flashlight and illuminating the room.

“What the...” I unintentionally let out.

“That’s... the target?” Marie asked, tilting her head at me.

“I guess so.”

Then, the target spoke.

“Whoa! You two must have been what all that ruckus was about outside! Wow, girlie, your clothes are all torn up! You’re showing more skin than I normally do!”

It was a high pitched and energetic voice filled with pure enthusiasm. Where it was coming from was all the stranger; it was a young and short girl with bright pink hair tied into twin tails and golden yellow eyes. She had her hands and legs strung up against the wall behind her with thick metal chains. Her neck was also in a large metal brace, thicker than the ones around her wrists and ankles.

“Well, what brings you two cuties to my humble abode?” She said with a toothy smile, filled with joy.