"So… it's done."
The handsome young man with long black hair sat calmly on the sofa, a thick dossier in his hand.
It detailed the entirety of the Yggdmillennia clan—secrets so deeply hidden that only a handful in the world had the right to see them.
His name was Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia. "Yggdmillennia" marked his belonging to the clan known as the Tree of a Thousand Realms; "Prestone" was his own bloodline within it.
Though he had lived nearly a century, as a magus he still bore the face of a shrewd young man.
Not through mere cosmetic Magecraft, but by far darker means.
For magi, the concept of the "spirit body" was deeply mysterious. Heroic Spirits could consume human souls to replenish mana, but magi could not. At best, one could follow Director Kenneth's example—housing souls within a Mystic Code to enhance its autonomy.
But Darnic was different.
He possessed a forbidden technique… the clan head of Yggdmillennia carried knowledge steeped in shadow.
He devoured spirit bodies—consuming human souls as food—to gain immense mana and unnatural longevity.
Even with his mastery, he had only dared it three times in his entire life, each with meticulous preparation. And each victim had been a helpless infant, minimizing the backlash.
Yet even so, he could no longer continue. To force another would risk birthing "another him"—a wretched amalgam of the consumed souls, one that could devour his own will and erase Darnic entirely.
Thus, whether for the prosperity of his family, for the honor of all Yggdmillennia magi, or simply to cling to his own life, Darnic had only one path left: to raise the banner of rebellion against the Mage's Association.
The Tree of a Thousand Realms was a refuge for failures. It was a vast gathering of families whose bloodlines were nearly extinguished, whose magical heritage was thin, or who had been crippled in past Holy Grail Wars. The nobles of the Clock Tower had long scorned them as a trash heap. Decades of disdain left Darnic no choice but to strike back.
Fortunately, he had found the perfect timing—and the firmest backing: the Holy Grail, and the Heroic Spirits within the Throne of Heroes.
His plan was to summon seven Heroic Spirits, wielding their might against the aristocracy of the Clock Tower.
That was his true goal. Using the Grail to strengthen his family's foundation would come later.
But now, the report before him unsettled his calculations.
"Rhodes Frain Yggdmillennia…" he murmured, his voice steeped in suspicion and hesitation. "I don't care where the hell you crawled out from. If the blood of the Tree of a Thousand Realms flows in you, then you'll make your contribution to our family's prosperity."
"Proclamation!"
He rose suddenly, his fervent voice booming through the castle, echoing in the ears of every magus within.
"In the name of the head of Yggdmillennia, I welcome the newly ascended 'Radiant Gold,' Lord Rhodes Frain Yggdmillennia, back into the family as one of our pillars!"
"Glory has no end, and the will to rise shall revive anew!"
"Our branches reach skyward like Yggdrasil itself—"
"For the sake of the next millennium, I extend my hand to my kin!"
◇◇◇
Through the networks of magical communication, it took only half a day for Rhodes to receive the still-fresh dossier.
Alongside Yggdmillennia's declaration of war, he also learned something else—he had been marked with a Seal Designation by Barthomeloi.
And so—
The scene from the first chapter repeated itself: under Alba's lead, the Sealing Designation Enforcers launched a surprise raid on Rhodes' workshop—only to end up watering the flowers in front of it with their own flesh and blood, making their own "contribution" to the greening of the Earth.
"Declared war, huh? Exactly as expected…"
Rhodes narrowed his eyes, a sly, foxlike grin curling at his lips.
"Well, this works too. After all, 'Heroic Spirits' are what I really want to study."
At that moment, a gentle knock sounded from outside the workshop.
"Master, the trash has been cleared away," came a girl's crisp voice, carrying a faint trace of cruelty. "Including Cornelius Alba, all twenty-two Sealing Designation Enforcers are now fertilizer for the flowerbeds."
"Nicely done, RyuZU." Rhodes' smile stretched into a sharper, colder curve as he chuckled. "There's an old saying in the East: not returning a favor is impolite. If those magi happen to discover the bombs Marianne buried under the Clock Tower, then good for them. If not, well… let the honor of the Clock Tower be smeared by modern technology."
"You really are devious, as expected of my Master." RyuZU laughed softly, though her eyes betrayed a note of concern as they lingered on him.
"Hmph. If not for the need to keep up appearances, I would've planted a Tsar Bomba there. Let those pompous aristocrats taste the rising sun for themselves—that wouldn't be such a bad 'mercy,' now would it?"
His face wore a calm smile, his words laced with mockery. But if it ever came down to it, Rhodes would absolutely do it—he wouldn't hesitate to topple the aristocracy of magi, even if it meant sacrificing all eight million residents of London.
"I see…" RyuZU forced a small smile, clearly hearing the finality in his tone. She couldn't help but wipe away a bead of sweat on behalf of London's citizens, for once sparing them her usual sharp tongue.
"Prepare to withdraw. Even though we have plenty of allies inside the Clock Tower, those nobles aren't ones to take lightly." Rhodes' voice was flat, tinged with mockery. "I've already got our 'transportation' ready—I think you'll like it."
"And Yuudachi?"
"She's already at the harbor, in charge of raising the 'ship.'"
Following Rhodes' utterly unhurried steps, RyuZU trailed him into the manor's back garden.
The once-bright flowerbeds had already become bare green earth. Towering there was a hulking mass of steel, reflecting the sunlight; its silver-painted frame was etched with countless lines, each one filled with gem-infused solution.
"That's…" RyuZU whispered in shock, her voice filled with disbelief.
"A modified Harrier jump jet. I think it'll give us quite the comfortable trip." Stroking the cold fuselage, Rhodes laughed brightly. "With the power those nobles wield, how could they possibly catch a plane tearing through the skies at near Mach speed?"
"If they've got the guts, let's see them shoot it down!"