She was like a blindfolded swordsman, swinging what she thought were exquisite sword moves—yet to the other, every strike was a glaring flaw.
She had already lost.
Even before the exchange began, she was utterly defeated.
Zehriel might have seen through the illusion of her six ice sculptures from the very start.
But he played along, perhaps just to mock this so-called God’s Chosen who believed victory was hers, and released Minai—whose identity was already exposed—back into the royal city.
He had accounted for everything.
He was certain that even if Minai’s identity was compromised, with Faluthiel’s magic, she wouldn’t see through his disguise.
He was reckless and unrestrained.
What he wanted was her collapse.
Despair twisted around her heart like creeping vines, tightening until she could hardly breathe.
—
Just as her spirit was about to be crushed, a long-forgotten conversation suddenly flickered in her mind, like a faint starlight piercing through storm clouds.
Senior Nilo.
“That prophecy stone… I only did some basic research in the lab. The results weren’t thorough…”
A voice heavy with apology echoed in her memory, so clear it was as if he spoke right beside her.
“I didn’t expect that stone could only detect movements of entities with magic lower than the user… It’s completely ineffective against Apostles who have survived for hundreds of years…”
Completely ineffective.
At the time, that sentence brought her nothing but deeper frustration and helplessness at Nilo’s research failure.
A prophecy stone unable to warn of the most dangerous enemies—what a cruel irony for a Holy Relic.
But now, here in this stinking alleyway, in this absolute predicament where everything about her had been seen through, that sentence struck her like a bolt of lightning tearing through the darkness—shattering all the chaos and fog in her mind!
Faluthiel jerked her head up, and the lost light returned to her ice-blue eyes with a terrifying intensity.
The sharp pain of her fingernails digging into her palm made her mind clearer than ever.
Yes! Ineffective!
The flaw of the prophecy stone—its inability—was the sole key to breaking this deadlock!
She’d been using it wrong all along.
Everyone had fallen into a logical trap, always wanting the prophecy stone to “find” the enemy.
But when an enemy was powerful enough to erase their own presence from the stone’s prediction, such “searching” was doomed to fail.
But what if—
Instead of using the prophecy stone to seek out the unseen enemy, she used it to “see” everyone who could be seen?
Faluthiel’s heart beat strong and steady once more, not from panic this time, but from a cold, bone-chilling excitement.
Her thoughts cleared in an instant, and a bold, crazy plan took shape in her mind.
She could activate the prophecy stone right now, letting its field of perception expand out from the Golden Iris Hotel, instantly covering several hundred meters in every direction.
Within that halo, every passerby on the street, every diner in the hotel, even the wildcat dozing on the rooftop—so long as their magic was lower than hers—would be marked in her mind as points of light, forming a detailed, living map.
And Zehriel…
The seventh Apostle, whose magic was far beyond hers—what would he look like on this map dotted with light?
He would be a blind spot in the prediction!
Everyone would be there—except him.
His “non-existence” would pinpoint his coordinates with the most precise, irrefutable evidence!
Nilo’s mistake, the Church’s incompetence, the defect of this Holy Relic itself…
All these things that had once filled her with anger and despair now, by a twist of fate, became the dagger aimed directly at the enemy’s heart.
The darkness of the alley could no longer confine her.
Faluthiel straightened her back.
The last trace of fear vanished from her face, replaced by an icy calm that was almost cruel.
She took the prophecy stone from her magic pocket.
It was small, fitting in her palm, warm to the touch and emitting a faint, holy glow.
“In the name of God’s Chosen…”
She closed her eyes and chanted softly.
Pale blue magic surged from her body, flowing like a stream into the prophecy stone in her hand.
Her mental strength unfurled in an instant.
Her innate “Wind Listening” gift spread like a net, covering every wisp of disturbed air near the Golden Iris Hotel.
The whole world reconstructed itself in her mind, in another form.
Countless points of light, bright and dim, flickered into existence, each representing a life.
On the street, the moving, densely clustered points were pedestrians.
Inside the Golden Iris Hotel, the stationary or slowly shifting lights of varying intensity were diners.
She could “see” in the private room on the second floor, the weak, greasy point of magic that was Finance Minister Bato, radiating greed and gluttony.
Next, he would return to his secret compartment to count how much gold he had hoarded today.
She could “see” in the hotel lobby, a player waving a mug of ale and boasting loudly.
Next, he would misstep, topple the bench beneath him, and be drenched in ale—provoking laughter from the crowd.
She could even “see” the dim, dying light that represented Minai, barely flickering, about to be snuffed out.
She patiently scanned the star map in her mind, inch by inch.
She swept past the hotel lobby, every window, the ornate carriage parked outside, and the rooftops of the buildings across the street…
Suddenly, her mental net caught.
Found it.
On the top floor balcony of a three-story building directly opposite the Golden Iris Hotel stood a City Guard.
Next step… There was no next step.
Nothing could be seen.
That was Zehriel.
He stood there like a ghost, silently overlooking the hotel entrance, the street, and perhaps even watching her own panicked escape.
Faluthiel slowly withdrew her magic.
The star map in her mind vanished, and the world returned to its true form.
She opened her eyes—her ice-blue pupils clear, the haze gone, replaced by solidified fighting spirit.
She took a small firework from her magic pocket.
Lifting her gaze to the night sky, tinged orange by the city lights, she gently twisted the base of the firework tube.
“Shoo—”
A sharp, barely audible whistle cut through the noise, as a slender blue streak shot skyward from her hand, piercing the clouds.
The sudden light drew the attention of passersby, who all looked up.
At its peak, the blue line exploded.
A gigantic snowflake of ice blossomed in the night, countless tiny points of magical light drifting down like diamond dust from its edges—dissolving in midair.
“Wow! It’s beautiful!”
A child pointed at the sky, shouting in delight.
“Which noble family is celebrating a birthday? That’s extravagant.”
A pair of lovers, arms entwined, gazed up in envy.
—
At the same time, throughout the royal city.
Inside a weapon shop, Eileen, carefully polishing her staff, suddenly looked up, her concentration replaced by determination.
She slammed her staff onto the table, tossing a stunned shopkeeper a quick “Charge it to God’s Chosen,” before vanishing through the door.
On the city walls, several magical girls patrolling spotted the snowflake, and without a word, slipped away from the City Guards’ formation.
They leaped silently from the heights, landing lightly in unnoticed corners, racing toward the signal.
In a secret training ground, a dozen magical girls opened their eyes from meditation at the same time.
Without exchanging words, they rose, grabbed their weapons, and filed out.
The enormous snowflake lingered in the sky for over ten seconds before fading away.
Faluthiel remained where she was, head tilted back, watching the night sky until the last spark of magic disappeared into the evening wind.
Zehriel…
If the royal city is the battlefield you chose, then here…
Let this be your final chapter.