A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 71

Episode 71. Terror (3)

‘Outer moving like this means they’re ready to make their full play.’
Their target was unmistakably the kings of the Western Kingdom Alliance.
‘It’s difficult to gauge their exact strength.’
Outer was an organization that had always hidden its true power, keeping its forces veiled.
“…Protecting Your Majesties must be our highest priority. We move as swiftly as possible.”
A deep rumble echoed through the chamber.
The Royal Palace, barely holding together until now, began to crumble in earnest.
Among the kings, a quarrel had broken out.
“You maintain nothing but this pitiful level of security? As a fellow member of the Western Kingdom Alliance, I cannot tolerate this!”
The Divide Kingdom was far mightier than the Priscilla Kingdom. Greed’s brow glistened with sweat.
“Most unpleasant, Your Majesty of Priscilla. I can no longer trust the forces under your command. I shall proceed with my own men separately.”
Dezir Armang cut in.
“Forgive my presumption, Your Majesty, but if we scatter now, I cannot guarantee anyone’s safety.”
“You are…”
Dezir Armang.
Colora recognized him—the one who had just disarmed the trap and saved them all.
“If we disperse now, our forces become fragmented, which only provides Outer the ideal conditions to hunt us down individually.”
“Then what do you propose?”
Dezir glanced briefly at Greed.
“Is there a safe location nearby? Somewhere secret, unknown to outsiders?”
“We have an air raid shelter prepared for war contingencies.”
Dezir turned to Colora.
“Excellent. I believe we should wait there until matters settle. Priscilla Kingdom should certainly be capable of holding them off.”
“So you’re asking us to trust this place once more?”
“Yes.”
Colora spoke.
“I’m afraid I must decline that proposal.”
Dezir’s brow furrowed slightly.
This man had stirred up hostility toward Hebrion from the outset, sacrificed his subordinates meaninglessly, and nothing about him sat right.
“Do you have another alternative, Your Majesty?”
“…We’ll use the Spatial Transfer Gate. I’m returning to Divide.”
“Then what of the Priscilla Kingdom…”
“Strictly speaking, this is foreign soil.”
He brushed dust from his clothing.
“It’s shameful even calling such a minor kingdom—unable to prevent a trivial terror attack—a member of the Western Kingdom Alliance.”
A profoundly diplomatic insult. The atmosphere among the other leaders of the Alliance shifted. Meanwhile, Colora turned to his knight commander with a question.
“What is the status of the Spatial Transfer Gate?”
“It’s been seized by Outer, but if Your Majesty wishes, we can breach it immediately.”
“Good. Take the troops and force open the Spatial Transfer Gate. Is anyone willing to move with me?”
Not a hand rose.
“What is this? Do you not trust my knights?”
Someone spoke up.
“It’s not that we distrust your knights, Your Majesty. It’s simply that the boy’s words seem sound.”
Dissent had emerged. The atmosphere, which had orbited around the Divide King until now, had shifted markedly.
Colora turned his head without hesitation.
“Then I’ll go alone.”
He departed, leading his forces with him.
The remaining leaders of the Western Kingdom Alliance decided to follow Dezir’s plan and make for the air raid shelter in Delta Heim.
Once the plan was set, Dezir found his thoughts turning to his party. Outer’s assault was not confined to the Royal Palace alone—it swept across the entire capital. Under such circumstances, staying together would be safer.
‘Outer is throwing everything at us. This won’t end easily like last time.’
Jord appeared before them with Spatial Transfer Magic.
Dezir looked at Jord and spoke.
“Did you apprehend the Raven Mask?”
Jord shook his head.
Dezir was taken aback. For Jord to miss—the raven-masked mage had to be formidable indeed.
He explained the plan he’d devised to Jord, who had just rejoined him.
“Not a bad idea at all.”
Once Dezir finished, Jord nodded in agreement.
“Leave this to me, then. You go find the others.”
It was a proposal Dezir found remarkably welcome.
“Are you certain that’s all right?”
“We can’t move properly with loose ends trailing behind us. For now, each of us must do what we must. Go.”
“Thank you, Master Jord. I wish you safe passage.”
Dezir turned and made his way back through the crowd of evacuees, moving against the current. At the same time, he activated the Communication Device on his wrist and reached out to Romantica.
‘I hope she’s all right.’

* * *

The curtains were drawn shut.
The Restaurant was thick with terror. A commotion had erupted outside moments before, and then masked figures poured in, seizing control of the interior.
“Any suspicious movement and your neck flies off. Understand?”
The one issuing threats wore a mask—a symbol of the Outer as unmistakable as any banner.
Among those herded to the side were Romantica, Fram, and Azest. They had complied with the Outer’s demands rather than risk sudden violence.
Screams echoed through the partitions. Watching the smoke rise over the city, they understood what had happened—the Outer had launched a Terror Attack on a nation’s capital. Their initial shock at the audacity gave way to a more pressing realization: why target Delta Heim at this particular moment?
The Grand Conference.
There was no other explanation for such a calculated risk.
‘Dezir might be in danger.’
Anxious glances passed between them.
They couldn’t stay here.
“Hey, you there! Don’t fidget! Stay still! Move even an inch and these little ones die!”
There were four of the Outer in total.
All held hostages—and they’d cleverly chosen children to keep the adults frozen in place.
They kept checking the windows. The moment the Outer struck, Delta Heim’s garrison mobilized in response.
The soldiers defending the capital of Priscilla Kingdom, a member of the Western Kingdom Alliance, moved with practiced efficiency.
The Outer seemed to be lying low, watching for an opening.
Romantica lowered her voice to a whisper.
“They don’t seem particularly strong.”
Fram answered quietly.
“They’re about the same level as those we faced at the Aurelie Magic Tower Branch.”
“We can’t wait any longer. No telling what they’ll do next.”
The decision was made. Azest issued her warning.
“The hostages are our constraint. We must neutralize them in a single moment.”
“I know.”
Romantica focused her mind, analyzing their enemies’ strength.
“There’s one mage among them—the one on the far left. Wind Attribute Magic user, most likely. As for the others…”
“All knights. Two at Pawn Rank, and the one in the middle is Knight Rank.”
Azest had been assessing the enemy’s power as well.
“Synchronize your timing. Strike as one. Romantica, use Sniper Magic to neutralize the Knight Rank. Fram and I will handle the rest.”
Romantica accepted Azest’s cool-headed command without hesitation.
She had come to respect Azest’s competence, though she rarely admitted it.
Romantica’s specialty was Silent Casting Magic. No casting time required.
‘The real question is when to strike.’
Their gazes met—Fram’s, Azest’s, and Romantica’s. They were about to move.
Beep!
Romantica’s eyes snapped to her wrist. Her Communication Device.
Of all the times!
“What’s that?”
The Outer showed immediate interest.
Fram had to lower his head to hide his blanching face. Azest kept her gaze fixed forward, unmoved. But Romantica’s Communication Device kept ringing.
Beep-beep!
“A communication device? You didn’t just send out a signal, did you?”
“Of course not.”
Romantica spoke with practiced calm, though her voice trembled faintly.
The Outer members noticed something amiss and began rising from their seats one by one.
“Put that down. Now.”
……
“Now.”
“B-but if I move…… you said you’d kill me.”
Romantica stammered, her voice wavering on the edge of tears. She sounded like a frightened child.
One of the Outer members furrowed his brow.
“Troublesome. You—strip that off and bring it here.”
“Understood.”
One of the Outer members approached Romantica and examined the Communication Device still chiming at her wrist.
“It’s not a communication tool—looks more like jewelry.”
“So what?”
“Wait. There’s writing on it. It says… He… He…”
The man seemed unable to read well; he squinted, struggling with the characters.
In that moment, Romantica tapped Azest’s foot with her toe. A signal to move.
“Hebrion Academy!?”
The instant the man finally read the words, Azest sprang into motion.
She swept a Spinning Kick at the man who had stepped within arm’s reach.
His body flew backward, crashing onto the dining table. Food scattered everywhere.
In the next moment, the scattered food reversed direction. Romantica’s Wind Bullets came tearing through.
The Knight Rank Outer—the hand gripping the hostage and the hand wielding his weapon—both shattered.
“Gaaaagh!”
A scream pierced the air, and blood sprayed.
The Pawn Rank knight who had been standing by drew his Iron Sword and rushed toward them.
“You bastards!”
The Outer member pulled out an Iron Sword and charged at them.
Fram moved. A Blancsium Blade materialized in his hand, blazing with brilliant white light. His thrust followed—clean and decisive.
Crack!
Fram’s blade cleaved the Outer’s Iron Sword in two and pierced his shoulder. The Iron Sword’s strength could not withstand Blancsium’s durability.
Fram brought a knife-hand strike down on the writhing man’s spine, rendering him completely unconscious.
“……We’ve subdued all of them, right?”
“The mage is down too.”
The only Outer mage among them lay crumpled at Azest’s feet.
Everything was over in a single moment.
“Excellent performance, Romantica.”
“Well, this much is standard.”
The freed child ran back into their mother’s embrace.
Fram turned to address the civilians.
“Go and rejoin those taking shelter.”
The door opened, and people filed out.
It was finished.
Ring-ring.
Romantica’s Communication Device was still chiming. She checked the caller—it was Dezir.

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