Chapter : 67
Sweet Pain
“At a time like this—!”
During the retreat, an ear-piercing alarm rang out, heralding the end of their infiltration.
All around, doors automatically locked, and iron shutters descended over the windows without a single gap.
In an instant, security guards wielding metal batons swarmed from all directions, and the stairway leading to the upper floor was blocked.
“Surrender quietly. There’s no way out.”
The man at the front, the squad captain, stepped forward, raising his baton toward the intruder.
“I never planned to.”
“Then there will be no mercy. Go! Capture her!”
Scoffing at the girl’s defiance, the man gave the order, and thirteen guards surged forward in unison.
“Hmph. Try it if you can.”
Surrounded on all sides, Misty remained utterly calm, almost as if they were the challengers.
The situation was clear: everyone present was a member of SMP, so there was no reason to hold back. She raised a hand, preparing to wipe them out with water magic—
“…?! Not working?!”
Her magical countermeasure collapsed instantly.
The blue magic circle that should have appeared in her palm never manifested, and the flow of her water-elemental magic inside her body scrambled uncontrollably. Nothing would coalesce.
There was no time to figure out why.
The lead guard swung his weapon—impossible to dodge. Misty drew her sword and barely blocked it.
Another baton strike followed. There was almost no time to defend. Gritting her teeth, she turned her palm toward the attack and used Meikyo Spiegel as a temporary mirror shield, but—
“…Tch! I can’t even use this!”
She had a premonition, yet when even her unique magic was nullified, Misty felt pain coursing through her body. Beyond the mental strain, the strikes of metal batons against her back, waist, legs, and arms were excruciating.
“Annoying…”
She shoved the man in front of her away and, using that momentum, unleashed a full-force horizontal slash.
The formation crumbled in an instant, leaving gaps. Misty dashed through, escaping the whirlwind of blows. But relief was fleeting.
She wasn’t even given a moment to catch her breath before the guards surged again.
Sparks flew as all attacks were intercepted by her sword stance, and with consecutive leg sweeps, she toppled six guards in the front row.
“Gotcha!”
Before the girl could recover, a massive guard swung his baton at her head. Crimson liquid sprayed—but the fierce smile she saw immediately twisted into shock.
It wasn’t Misty who had fallen. She crouched, sword thrust into the man’s chest.
“Guh… ah… ahh…”
Two seconds later, one of the thirteen guards collapsed at her feet, the floor stained red.
In an instant, the remaining twelve froze in shock. Their gaze followed the intruder casually wiping her blade—an underage girl who seemed to truly have the resolve to kill.
“I told you. Try it. You understand now, don’t you?”
Her cold voice indicated the fallen man at her feet. Eyes filled with contempt, she surveyed all of them.
“Villains. If you really want to experience my full strength, come all at once. Even without magic, it’s enough to deal with you.”
The threat was fully received.
Everyone stepped back half a pace, unwilling to advance, watching Misty hold her sword at chest level.
“We underestimated her, and for that, one of our comrades has paid the price.”
The captain, filled with regret, slightly bowed to his fallen colleague, then transformed his grief into hatred and turned toward Misty.
“But even if we’ve come this far, we will never let you escape. We’ll capture you alive.”
Declaring certain victory, he tapped his radio: “All units, assemble!”
Footsteps echoed throughout the lab, and soon, all security from the four floors gathered, filling the corridor in front of the silver-haired girl.
With the overwhelming numbers, morale surged, and a sense of resolute courage spread.
(There are more than I counted before…)
Misty estimated—about thirty. Breaking through was unrealistic.
Even without reinforcements, she couldn’t handle them alone. Narrow corridors hindered swordplay, and a prolonged fight would be disadvantageous.
She had gambled once under disadvantage—using a display kill to intimidate and force retreat. But reality had backfired. The intimidation strengthened the enemy’s cohesion.
Facing this result, Misty’s gaze remained calm as she silently sheathed her sword.
“Hmph. Surrender now? Too late. You will feel the proper pain.”
The captain regained his morale, signaling a full attack. But as he stepped forward, an unknown cold seeped up from the floor.
“What…? It’s cold!”
“The floor… what’s happening?!”
The chill ran up the body not just for the captain but for everyone behind him. The air was damp, smelling faintly of salt. Looking down, they were astonished again.
White mist, camouflaged with the floor, had silently risen at their feet.
Soon, it carried the scent of the sea, ready to engulf the entire squad.
“Impossible… All their magic was sealed! What did you do?!”
“I have no obligation to tell you.”
Coldly dismissing their questions, Misty watched the misted guards struggle, waiting for the last one to disappear into the fog.
When the danger was gone, she picked up her sword.
This was the reason she remained unshaken—her beloved sword, Phantom of the Deep Sea, had its own magic.
When activated, the sky-blue magic stone adhered to a living body, releasing an extraordinary white mist that cannot be dispelled by normal means.
Although her own magic was disabled for unknown reasons, the sword’s innate magic did not depend on her personal mana.
No matter how the enemy reacted, she remained in control.
“…Phew. The path should be clear now.”
If the captain’s earlier words were true, all forces were trapped in the mist. Simple: proceed straight to the exit and victory.
She sheathed Phantom of the Deep Sea and ran up the stairs, reaching the second underground floor smoothly.
Yet—
“…Misty…?”
One step from the surface, her body instinctively stopped at a familiar voice. Reflexively turning, Misty froze, eyes wide.
At the end of the hallway was the person she had longed to see once more, the one she had dreamed of countless times, cried for at night, and called by name—never imagining she would meet him here like this.
His silver-white hair swayed gently in the air, as if spun from moonlight. Each strand nearly transparent, reflecting light with a cold sheen. His face was impossibly perfect, exuding untouchable, serene beauty.
His pale gray eyes were like a tranquil lake, delicate enough to break at a touch.
No mistake. None could exist.
Exactly as she remembered—Misty Seraphine’s brother, Liam Seraphine.
“Ho-how…?”
Misty’s lips trembled, her voice nearly inaudible, her heartbeat painful. Legs wobbled forward, yet fear kept her from approaching.
Tears flowed uncontrollably, her vision blurred. Could he really be smiling? Thought unraveled at the edge of collapse.
“Liam… you were supposed to be dead… I saw it with my own eyes… blood that day…”
Confusion, joy, terror—all surged at once, and she felt the world itself was deceiving her.
“Why… is Misty… here…”
The familiar voice called her name again, breaking something deep within.
“Liam! That day… were you only in a state of suspended death? Where have you been all these years?”
Her nearly broken voice shouted questions buried deep in her heart. Emotion burst free, tears raining down.
“Father and Mother… are they alive? Why are you in SMP’s secret chamber? Answer me!”
Regret flashed across Liam’s face. He instinctively tried to retreat into the lab.
“Wait! Don’t leave me!”
Her resolve was firmer than ever.
On the day she lost her dearest, standing outside tragedy, she was a survivor, an avenger, and abandoned.
Unable to remain with her family to the end, marked as a “sinner of forbidden research,” scorned by society.
Yet now, at the edge of an unknown darkness, she had finally found someone bearing light.
This time, she would never let go.
After chasing through winding corridors, Liam stopped at a room. Misty, having caught up, didn’t pause to breathe—she wrapped her arms around him.
Resting her forehead on his back, she felt the long-frozen relief melt quietly in her chest.
This was no illusion. She held him tightly, fearing fate might steal him again.
“…Liam… I’ve always wanted to see you…”
Twelve years of true feelings poured out naturally.
Tears dampened his clothing, yet in the miracle of regained happiness, she paid no mind.
His touch, his scent, his heartbeat—all hers to hold for now.
“I thought… you were gone forever… never leave me again…”
Even the strongest girl reverted to a four-year-old before her closest kin, begging for indulgence. Only now did the warmth of “I’m glad you’re alive” fill her heart.
“…I’m sorry, Misty. I’ve kept you waiting too long.”
Raising her gaze slightly, Liam’s profile met hers. The light slid over his hair, casting silver on his lashes, a faint smile giving reassurance beyond words.
“You’ve… grown so much.”
With gentle, almost self-deprecating affection, he turned and said softly. Misty gasped, then smiled—a long-awaited smile, free of worry or sorrow.
“You were always my goal. I’m no longer a crybaby like before… I’ve grown stronger.”
She pressed her cheek gently against his chest. Liam’s hand was steady, gentle, yet certain.
“That… makes me truly happy.”
Their breaths aligned; only quiet heartbeats filled the room. Misty closed her eyes, letting warmth seep into her chest. Fingers brushed his coat, recalling the many times she had leaned on him.
And then—
“…I showed you something beautiful, didn’t I?”
Liam’s smile subtly shifted, almost imperceptibly.
Light glided across his cheek, casting an unnatural shadow. Not kindness, but a chill crawling along the spine, a perverse delight.
Before Misty could sense the wrongness, his hand moved naturally to her neck.
When she lifted her chin to speak, a violent impact struck the back of her neck, and her vision shook.
Breath caught, support lost, the world tilted. Light fractured and spun; Liam’s visage stretched into a distorted afterimage.
(…Brother… why…)
The words never left her lips before darkness consumed her consciousness.
Just before her eyelids closed completely, she remembered only that the false Liam had suddenly become a stranger—and in his pocket, she had glimpsed the gleaming magical artifact, Hagnis.
