Lencar had to move him to a secure location.
He reached his right hand out, funneling a quick pulse of mana into his silver ring.
The air distorted slightly, and a heavy, light-absorbing black traveling cloak materialized in his grasp, along with a featureless, polished wooden mask.
Lencar didn't hesitate. He swung the heavy black fabric over his shoulders, the cloak instantly hiding his slouched, civilian disguise and wrapping him in an aura of deep, impenetrable shadow. He raised the wooden mask and pressed it firmly against his face. The enchantments on the wood locked onto his skin, securing the disguise.
Lencar looked up at the ceiling, locking onto the exact spatial coordinates of the dining hall directly above him. He raised his right hand, extending his index and middle fingers.
"Spatial Magic: Void Step," Lencar commanded softly, his voice muffled and heavily distorted by the enchantments in the wooden mask.
A dark purple, swirling vortex tore open the fabric of reality directly in front of him. Without making a single sound, Lencar stepped forward, allowing the darkness to swallow him whole.
One floor above, the atmosphere in the ruined royal dining hall was a bizarre, jarring contrast to the violent destruction of the capital burning outside.
Charmy Pappitson was in a state of bliss.
She sat cross-legged in the center of the massive, incredibly plush cotton cushion she had summoned using her grimoire. Resting heavily in her lap, completely dead to the world, was the tall, handsome, golden-eyed prodigy who had just saved her prized roasted chicken leg from falling into the abyss.
Yuno's breathing was slow and even, his face completely relaxed in deep exhaustion. His dark hair was splayed across the dark fabric of her Black Bull robe.
Charmy sat entirely rigid, her face glowing with a furious, cartoonish blush that practically emitted steam. She held the rescued chicken leg in her left hand, taking tiny, incredibly fast bites out of it, while her right hand hovered nervously in the air, completely unsure of what to do with the unconscious boy resting on her legs.
He's so cool, Charmy squealed internally, stars shining in her wide eyes. He swooped in like a bird, caught my precious meat, and then just fell asleep right on me! He must have fought an entire army of food-thieves just to get here! He really is the Prince of Meals!
She took another bite of the chicken, chewing happily. The terrified royal chefs huddled behind the overturned vegetable carts were slowly starting to stand up, looking around the ruined hall in utter confusion at the strange, blushing girl and the sleeping knight.
Charmy was just about to reach for a honey-glazed pastry sitting on the plate beside her when the temperature in the room plummeted.
The warm, chaotic air of the burning city was suddenly cut by a sharp, freezing chill that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. The ambient mana in the dining hall, which had been relaxed and settling, suddenly spiked with a heavy, suffocating pressure.
Charmy stopped chewing. Her massive, starry eyes snapped open, losing their romantic haze instantly.
A few feet away from her fluffy cotton bed, right in the center of the shattered marble floor, the air tore open.
It was a jagged, swirling vortex of dark purple magic, radiating a cold, absolute silence.
Charmy watched in stunned silence as a figure stepped out of the portal.
It was a man, incredibly tall and broad-shouldered, draped in a heavy, light-absorbing black cloak that seemed to drink the ambient light of the room. His face was completely obscured by a featureless, polished wooden mask. He didn't carry a grimoire in his hands, nor did he adopt a fighting stance. He just stood there, radiating a sheer, overwhelming aura of menace and absolute, uncompromising power.
The portal snapped shut behind him, leaving the strange man standing alone in the ruined dining hall.
Charmy's protective instincts, which had just brutally dismantled a veteran witch minutes ago, flared back to life instantly. She didn't know who this man was, but he smelled dangerous, and he had just teleported directly into her personal dining space while her prince was resting.
She shoved the half-eaten chicken leg into her mouth, swallowing it whole, and glared at the masked intruder.
"Hey!" Charmy shouted, her voice loud and aggressively territorial, echoing off the high ceilings. She pointed a tiny, accusatory finger directly at the wooden mask. "Who are you?! What are you doing sneaking in here like a creep?! Did you come to steal my food too?!"
Lencar remained entirely quiet. He didn't offer a villainous monologue. He didn't explain his motives. He simply turned his featureless wooden mask toward the cotton cushion, locking his gaze on the unconscious form of Yuno resting in the girl's lap.
He took a slow, heavy step forward, his boots crunching against the broken marble. Then another.
He just continued approaching, closing the distance with a steady, inevitable, terrifying rhythm.
Charmy's eyes narrowed into dark, dangerous slits. The comedic, blushing girl vanished entirely, replaced by the heavy, demonic aura that had terrified Catherine. The shadows around her face deepened.
"I asked you a question, you weirdo!" Charmy growled, the pitch of her voice dropping into a low, rumbling threat. "Stay away from my food, and stay away from my Prince of Meals!"
Lencar didn't break his stride. He was now only five feet away from the edge of the massive cotton cushion. He raised his right hand, reaching out toward Yuno's shoulder, fully intending to grab the boy's uniform and drag him into a spatial tear.
Charmy moved with explosive, shocking speed.
She didn't try to stand up while holding Yuno. With a surprisingly gentle but incredibly swift motion, she slid her legs out from under his head, rolling the unconscious Golden Dawn knight safely to the side so he rested entirely on the soft, plush surface of the cotton cushion.
Freed of the extra weight, Charmy sprang to her feet, standing between the massive, cloaked intruder and the sleeping boy.
Her grimoire, which had been resting on the floor, suddenly glowed with a bright, blinding white light and floated up into the air beside her. The pages flipped furiously, a storm of concentrated mana gathering around her small frame.
"If you aren't going to listen, I'll just have to make you nap like the old hag!" Charmy shouted, slamming her hands together.
"Cotton Magic: Sleeping Sheep Strike!"
The spell activated with concussive force. From the glowing pages of her grimoire, a massive, towering construct of hyper-condensed magical cotton erupted. It was identical to the spell that had shattered Catherine's ribs—an enormous, incredibly fluffy sheep with the physical density and kinetic force of a charging rhinoceros.
The giant cotton sheep reared back and lunged directly at Lencar, aiming a devastating headbutt squarely at the center of his chest.
Lencar didn't flinch. He didn't even stop walking forward.
He recognized the raw, blunt-force kinetic power of the attack. If it hit him, it would undoubtedly shatter ribs. But cotton, no matter how magically condensed or heavily reinforced, still obeyed the fundamental, conceptual rules of physics when introduced to extreme heat.
Lencar simply raised his left hand, turning his palm toward the charging behemoth. He didn't even bother to open his grimoire to cast the spell; the source code of the attribute was burned so deeply into his soul that he could manifest it on pure instinct.