"Hah, seriously?...This is really all you can do, isn't it? And here I thought killing a sage might actually be kind of fun."

Even without any feedback, Antoinette's taunts didn't cease as she playfully ran her blades through the gathering bridges of mana that built the weaving spell, slowly approaching the barrier before kicking off into another dash of steel.

With a single strike this time, the fresh barrier was put into worse condition than the brittle first, much to the joy of the Argonaut as she laughed jovially.

"After I bring your head to the king, I'll be treated like royalty myself. I'll probably have my own land, a castle...a healthy supply of war prisoners and peasants to cut up. Doesn't it sound fantastic? I can't wait!"

The immensely effective strike to the protective spell cast by the sage seemed to further solidify the murderous Argonaut's confidence as she boasted, tapping her cleanly-furbished dress shoe against the barrier with a wide smile.

"You truly are a fiend."

"Aren't I?"

Antoinette laughed out in response as she twirled the handle of one of her blades between her fingers before pointing the sharp, glistening tip of the steel toward the sage tucked away inside the see-through barrier.

Still, she is a troublesome one. It seems either by nature of her innate ability or those blades that with each strike, the next becomes more effective. Does she simply become stronger with each consecutive attack? Or is it something else?...Troublesome, indeed, Beatrice thought, I'd like to avoid casting spells if I can help it; each cast further chips away at our already brittle time.

Witnessing the curly-haired maiden of bloodlust swoop in for another strike, this time leaping into the air as swiftly and quietly as a cat, Beatrice this time realized the nature of the peculiar strikes as another one clashed against her barrier.

As the caster of her own spell, she could feel the distinct feeling of the potency of the mana embroidered into the barrier be dulled; as if the burning flames igniting it began to dampen under rainfall.

"I see...I think I understand now."

"Oh? Do you now?"

Devilish as always, Antoinette possesses little doubt in her own victory as the barrier looked as brittle as an eggshell by this point.

"Those blades of yours--they weaken the constitution of magic. That's not quite right, though, is it? Normally, such an ability would only affect the spell it hits, but what you're doing is different."

As the platinum-haired sage of a nebulous beauty explained her findings, Antoinette seemed pleased as she listened with her twisted grin.

"Just by attacking a source of a caster's mana, you're able to weaken the potency of their magic."

"Bingo!"

The Argonaut exclaimed joyfully as she pointed one of her blades at the sage, her curly locks bouncing as she jumped just slightly.

With that confirmed, Beatrice finally seemed to acknowledge the girl as she turned to face her in full, snapping her fingers while the attention of Antoinette was grabbed fully by this gesture. Following the sage's snap of her fingers, an orb appeared directly in front of her.

"...Planning something? I should have you know--by now, your magic has been completely trampled, anything you cast now will be novice-level at best!"

"I know; that's why I must act accordingly--because, truly, you're a threat that must be extinguished. Both to the people of Mastorn and my dream, you, Antoinette Klaus, are an enemy I must not underestimate further."

The serious, steel-wrought words from the sage were chilling even to the woman who indulged in the deepest of sin. It was the first time since she arrived that the curly-haired Argonaut who loved to taunt her victims finally fell at a loss for words as her lips only slightly moved, trying to find something from the void in her throat.

Those eyes...The eyes that have seen thousands, tens of thousands, if not more of this world's history--civilizations falling, genocide, gods--someone like that...is getting serious against me?! Antoinette thought.

"Mer, are you ready?"

"Always, but the question is: are you ready, Bea?"

The voice that came from the orb hovering just in front of the sage's own face shocked Antoinette further, who remained still in this moment. In this moment of harrowing realization, something further was realized by the murderous woman.

Since Beatrice's proclamation, a cold, ungodly aura of magical energy refined by thousands of years of mastery had emanated from her position. However, upon further glance, deepened focus--Antoinette realized something daunting.

The bountiful, suffocating air of mana formed not from the sage, but the talking orb.

"It's quite an uncomfortable experience, but I will put up with it. Just see to it that you take care of that girl; she's quite the troublesome one."

"I noticed. Well then, let's get this thing started--!"

As the orb shouted out joyfully, it slowly began to levitate towards the sage's chest, gravitating closer to the exposed section of her pale chest uncovered by her dress's sable fabric.

"I, Beatrice of the Great Sages, offer this vessel to you, Merlin."

"I accept."

Hearing this exchange between the sage and the orb, Antoinette thought she had heard it all until hearing of that name that once more made her limbs rigid and her skin cold.

"...Merlin…?"

This is a joke, right? A bluff, a fake, a lie…! There's no way she means that Merlin--the "Emperor of Mages" himself! He was killed by the Founders of Magic, there's no way! Antoinette thought.

Even if she tried to convince herself of the impossibility of it all, the magical energy she felt splendidly exploring across the attic evaporated her doubt as the air shifted from a still cold to an exhausting, suffocating heat.

Slowly, the orb began to enter the sage's bosom as the platinum-haired woman kept her eyes closed as she accepted the magically-inclined sphere into her body. As it merged with her body, an intense, blinding light filled the room, originating from the sage's body.

"...Ugh…!"

Antoinette shielded herself from the intrusive radiance as she raised her arms in front of her face, still feeling something persuade her to watch the direction of the phantasmic scene.

Before the building pressure of the bubbling mana, the barrier shattered completely, dissolving into nothing more than droplets of absolved magical energy. Destroying a barrier from within wasn't a feat worth putting much stock into, but that isn't what held Antoinette's fear in place.

It was trying to understand the rising, mixing, and release of mana before her--between the primordial energy of the sage herself and the divinely refined mana of the proclaimed Emperor of Mages himself, it was simply something humans weren't ready to perceive.

Sweat trickled down Antoinette's body as her knees quivered; not out of absolute fear, but the battle between her mind and body--every cell of her body, her sharpened instincts, instructed her to run, but she refused with her pride of a killer on the line.

Slowly, the array of magical energy flowing and coalescing, shining vibrantly like a rainbow amidst a rainy day, finally began to settle down. Standing in place of the sage wasn't the platinum-haired, celestial-eyed woman, but the clear figure of a man.

"...It's been a long time since I actually breathed in the air of this world…"

Taking in a deep inhale, the man let out a satisfied breath as the radiance faded out completely--revealing in completion the figure before the Argonaut.

Tattered, discarded pieces of sable fabric sat by his feet; something Antoinette immediately deduced to be Beatrice's dress, having been discarded by the appearance of the enigmatic male.

His hair was long and flowing like a waterfall cascading down his shoulders and reaching as far as his lower back, possessing a peculiar shade of white that inhabited a loose complexion of sapphire if looked at from a certain angle.

Though his face was feminine, like a noble prince who had done nothing but indulge in books and the luxuries of life, his body was unmistakably a man's own, layered in the perfect amount of functional muscle as if that too was a scholarly concept.

His bare feet stood not on the ground, but air; hovering just slightly, but enough to invoke a sense of supremacy as his hair flowed gently amidst his own magical presence.

Even if it might be a fake...this man is no doubt powerful. I can't afford to play with my food anymore, Antoinette thought.

"Ah, let me cover that thing up!"

With a chuckle, the man snapped his fingers as a piece of cloth was manifest solely to protect his groin from the eye's of the Argonaut--who had no intention of looking near that region, instead reading the man with her cold intensity.

"So, "Antoinette", right? I'm sure you heard already, but I'm Merlin, at your service!"