Chapter 10

Delayed Resistance

The spell truly deserved its status as a high-tier magic—Reion could finally appreciate that now.

“Wh… what happened to me…?”

At some point, he had ended up lying flat on his back.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Reina’s tear-streaked face, filling his vision.

He’d half-hoped for a lap pillow, but realizing his weight would probably crush her, he quickly shook the thought away.

“Reion! Thank goodness… I was so worried!”
“Why are you here, Reina?”
“I heard your voice calling for help, so I came right away!”
“Sorry, Reina. But thanks to you, I’m fine now… probably—ah!”

When he tried to sit up, a wave of stored-up muscle pain hit him like an explosion.
Even raising his arms was an ordeal, and when he tried to stand, his legs trembled uncontrollably.

“Ugh… I can’t even balance right… If I just had some support—”

The instant he thought the word “support,” something burst from behind him—no, from his back—a radiant flash of crimson light.

“W-what the—?!”

The energy took form, fluid and vivid, shaping itself into a pair of semi-transparent scarlet wings.
They braced him upright, spreading wide before gently lifting his spine straight.

“My wings… they moved on their own…”
“That’s assimilation! Amazing, Reion!”
“You’re throwing out big words, Reina, what does that even—whoa—!”

When their job was done, the wings folded neatly, shrinking until they fit perfectly against his body, glowing faintly pink as if in standby mode.

“Phew, that startled me… So, what exactly do you mean by ‘assimilation’?”
“It’s when a spell activates automatically in response to the caster’s intent. You were thinking, ‘I need support,’ right?”
“Yeah, I thought that, but… how? I can barely control my magic yet.”
“That doesn’t matter. Some spells have their own awareness.
Assimilation happens when a spell recognizes its user.
For beginners, that’s an incredibly rare phenomenon.”
“…Recognized… me…?”

Self-blame, shame, and a swirl of nameless emotions silenced him for a while.

He remembered—the same thing had happened during yesterday’s fight.
Even though it was his first time using magic, the wings had protected him from those blazing attacks.

But back then… he had been terrified.

He had realized how small and fragile an ordinary human was in front of magical power.
All he had thought about was how to escape—how to survive.
He had shouted “Stop, stop!” inside his head, again and again.

And somehow, the wings had answered his desperate plea and become his shield.
Even though, at the start, he hadn’t even liked his magic.

(Hey… what even is my magic…?)

He didn’t say it aloud, not wanting the wings to “hear” his doubt.

(The Scarlet Clan’s crimson magic belongs to a class of unique spells,)
(but yours is slightly different. Usually, a special-type spell can have multiple users—but scarlet magic has only one.
No outsider can ever learn it. Meaning, these red wings are yours alone, Reion—your lifetime’s personal magic.)

He had nearly forgotten that this was the spell Adel had entrusted to him—filled with hope for the future and feelings that transcended time.
If he broke that promise now, he would be shaming that bond.

“Hey, Reina.”
“What is it?”
“If I… gave the wings a name… what would you think?”
“…”

Her blank stare and silence were about what he expected.
After all, shouting out attack names was embarrassing.

Flustered, Reion waved his hands.

“Ah, never mind, forget I said that—”

But Reina surprised him.

“No, I think it’s a good idea. Giving a name helps channel your mana.
Once you’re more experienced, you can drop it, but for now, it’ll help you connect.
So it’s not a bad thing at all.”
“Then… how about ‘Crimson Wings—Araloja’?”
“It’s lovely. I can’t say I fully understand your sense of style, but sure.”

That name, Crimson Wings Araloja, probably came from a tiny bit of guilt—yet at the same time, naming his very own magic had always been a dream.

“But something feels off…”

Spreading her own wings, Reina narrowed her eyes, studying his carefully.

“I noticed it yesterday too.
My archives contain lots of data on Scarlet magic.
But none of them describe a purely functional scarlet spell like this Araloja.”
“So it might not even be meant for combat, huh…”

He wanted to explore Araloja’s full potential—but right now wasn’t the time.

“Right—what about Akikaze and Tsukinagi?!”

His shout echoed unnaturally in the distorted silence of this time-frozen space.
No one responded.

His childhood friends—people he’d known for over ten years—were right there, trapped motionless along with the rest of the students, locked inside the same prison of stillness.

“Hey, Tsukinagi… come on, don’t scare me like this… say something!”

No matter how hard he shook her, she didn’t move an inch.
Her body had lost all warmth—like a puppet with its strings cut.

“It’s useless,” Reina said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“She can’t hear you.”

“Why… why is this happening?”
“I can sense it. Everyone here is caught in a spell.”
“You mean that bearded bastard is still alive?!”
“No… I don’t think so.
His magic, Twilight Barrier, only drained stamina and bound targets.
This is different—this feels like time itself has been stopped.”
“Magic can even do that?!”

Reina nodded grimly.
Reion turned away, unable to look at the pale, lifeless faces of his frozen friends.

“Then is there a way to undo it?”
“A spell that binds living things across this wide an area will keep going until its caster is defeated—or its mana runs out.”
“That’s… a brutal win condition…”

Fear of this unknown mage tightened his chest.
He took a deep breath to steady his pounding heart.

“So, what now, Reion?”
“W-what else?! I’ll use Purify to heal them, and we’ll get out of here!”

It was a logical plan.
Whoever cast this spell was no ally.
Everything about it radiated hostility—perhaps even murderous intent.

If he confronted that power head-on, it would mean certain defeat.
So the wise choice was to avoid battle and retreat.

“Sensible,” Reina said, sitting cross-legged on his head, “but your plan’s got one hole in it.”

She glanced at the unmoving Tsukinagi.

“Like I told you before— only removes status effects from your contracted partner.
It won’t work on anyone else.
And besides, you don’t have enough mana left to save them both.”

“Damn it! Why is this happening?!”

His fist slammed against the table with a heavy thud, emotion overwhelming logic.
His bangs hid the tears welling in his eyes.

Magic again.
Always magic.
It followed him like a curse.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this…
Akikaze and Tsukinagi have nothing to do with any of this, and now they’re caught up in something insane…”

If only he were the one suffering, he wouldn’t complain.
But dragging his precious friends into danger—that was unbearable.

“This… this is my fault—!”
“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh—!”

A scream—mixed into his own shout—echoed from somewhere else.
It wasn’t either of their voices.

Distant. Desperate.

Reina’s pointed spirit ears twitched as she searched for the source.

“Aaaaahhh! Don’t come any closer—!”

The two of them looked up sharply.

The direction, the echo, the intensity—it all pointed toward the school rooftop, a strictly forbidden area of Windsea High.
Students were normally banned from setting foot there, yet now, someone was clearly still able to move freely.

“You heard that, right, Reion?”
“Yeah… someone’s up there.”
“Seems so.”

Whoever that person was, they were either incredibly lucky—or facing something terrifying.

From the tone of that scream, two possibilities flashed through Reion’s mind:

(1) The person noticed the anomaly, panicked, and fell into despair.
(2) The person was the culprit—or had encountered them.

He and Reina exchanged glances. Their conclusions were the same: option two.

“Heh… hehehe…”

A hollow laugh escaped him.

“L-let’s just run, Reina… that’d be the smart thing to do, right?”

She noticed the tremor in his voice.
That trembling wasn’t cowardice—it was instinct.
But she already knew, through their telepathic bond, that his heart said something else entirely.

Beneath the fear, there was resolve—a fierce, quiet will to save his friends.

“Liar.”
“Wh-what? I’m serious—”
“You really want to go to the rooftop, don’t you?”
“Th-that’s…”

There was no hiding it anymore—she had already read his thoughts perfectly.

Reion clenched his fists, face shadowed.

“If I can defeat the one who cast this spell, I can save Akikaze and Tsukinagi.
If that’s possible, then I have to try!”

“I object.”

Reina turned sharply, her voice calm but firm.

“Even from here, I can sense that mage’s power.
Whoever they are, they’re far beyond our level.
If you go now, it’s suicide.
Please, Master—don’t underestimate the difference in strength.”

Reion couldn’t answer.
Her words were true. For a novice mage with no battle experience, escape was the right move.

(I know… I know I can’t win.)

But still—

If he gave up without trying, if he ran away now, he’d be failing both as a friend and as a person.

Sensing his inner turmoil, Reina sighed and shrugged.
She had never truly believed she could stop his decision anyway.

“Fine. As your contracted spirit, it’s my duty to support you.
Whatever you choose, I’ll back you up completely.
We’re partners—one body, one soul.”

“Reina…”
“Buuuut—!”

She jabbed a finger in warning.

“Just so you know, Master—your remaining mana is enough for one more .
So please, be careful!”
“Yeah… got it. Thanks, Reina.”
“D-don’t think I’m blushing or anything!”

Her face reddened as she turned away.

“Alright—let’s go!”

Reion slapped his cheeks to fire himself up, then sprinted toward the exit.
He dashed up the stairs, each step carrying him closer to the rooftop—
where the next confrontation awaited.