[ Somewhere outside the arena ]
While Demian and Alan were trying to escape the coliseum, far away from there a tall man was walking through what appeared to be a vast library. The library was quite dark, illuminated only by candles.
"Now let's see where I put that book," the man said as he ran his hand along several volumes. Each of the books seemed to bear the names of different people on their spines.
The library was enormous, with at least two floors and countless shelves filled with books.
If Louis were there, he would have recognized the man immediately, for he was William.
"It's not here. I must have placed it on the second floor, since it's been so long since I made that book."
William then calmly walked up to the second floor. After reaching it, he passed through several sections of corridors until he entered one. He stopped in front of one of the last books on a shelf and pulled it out.
"So this is where you were, my dear."
The book was purple, and in the center of its cover was written the name (Mira).
William opened the book. Inside were all of Mira's details: her age, height, weight, even her measurements, as well as the entire story of her life up to that moment. And at that exact instant, on a blank part of the page, a sentence began to appear, written on its own:
(Mira was fighting against a boy named Demian.)
"Interesting… Mira, if even this boy's name has appeared in your book, that means you hold a certain regard for him. Who could he be?" William wondered.
"I think this moment might be rather entertaining to watch," William said before closing Mira's book and taking it with him.
But for a brief moment, just before he closed it, the words written on the first page could be seen:
(Place of birth: Coliseum).
...
[ On the staircase ]
At that moment, Alan was running up the stairs as fast as he could.
"I need to get to Mira's room and look for the exit in the place Demian told me about," Alan said as he remembered his conversation with Demian.
( Flashback ) [ Two days earlier, in Demian's room ]
"So, Alan, this will be our plan to escape from this place. Any questions?" Demian asked.
"Yes, I have one!"
"What is it?"
"You said our first step is to cause chaos in the arena, but you didn't say where exactly the exit is."
Demian put his hand on his chin, showing doubt. "That's because I don't know where the exit is."
Hearing that, Alan made a shocked expression.
"At least I don't know exactly where it is, but I have an idea of where it might be," Demian said.
"Where?" Alan asked, his face calming down.
"In Mira's room."
Why is it that the more he talks, the more I think this escape plan is way too simple and improvised? Alan thought.
"But why do you think that, Demian?"
"Because some time ago I went to Mira's room and ended up lying down on her bed and—"Before Demian could continue, a hand appeared in front of his face.
"Just a second. Before you continue, explain that part about you lying on her bed!" Alan exclaimed.
"Why? There's nothing special about it. I just lay down on the bed and we talked."
"I see. So that's all," Alan said, a little disappointed.
"Anyway, getting back to the point: I lay down on her bed, and it was very cold."
"I think that's normal when someone hasn't been in bed for a while," Alan said.
"Yes, I thought that too, but the bed was too cold. And it wasn't just the bed—the room itself felt colder than normal. So I thought of only one explanation. In a room with no windows, what could cause cold air?"
Realizing where Demian was going, Alan grew excited and said, "An air current."
Demian smiled and said, "Exactly. Inside that room, there's some kind of hidden exit."
( End of flashback ) [ On the staircase ]
"I need to get to that room and search it from top to bottom," Alan said.
...
[ in front of the staircase ]
At that moment, Demian and Mira had not yet begun to fight, but the mana of both was rising.
The pressure in the air increased with every second.
Demian's mana crackled around his body like small bluish electric threads, snapping irregularly. Mira, on the other hand, remained still, her posture relaxed, but her mana was dense and compressed, as if under absolute control—silent, yet oppressive.
"So let's see how far your determination goes, Demian," Mira said, taking a step forward.
Demian smirked.
"Careful. Usually, the ones who say that end up on the ground."
In the next instant, Demian disappeared.
A thunderous boom echoed as he surged forward at high speed, propelled by lightning beneath his feet, appearing in front of Mira with his fist wrapped in electricity. The blow was aimed straight at her face.
Mira reacted at the last moment.
She twisted her body, dodging by mere centimeters, and used her arm to redirect the attack, sending Demian past her. Before he could retreat, Mira stepped in and delivered a sharp kick to his ribs.
Demian was thrown several meters back, sliding across the ground.
"Tch…" He quickly got back to his feet. "Not bad."
Mira didn't reply. Instead, she discreetly brought her hand to a small device attached to her belt, about the size of a metallic pendant, with glowing lines running across its surface.
Click.
Demian felt something strange immediately.
The world felt… wrong.
The sound of his own footsteps echoed with a delay. The torchlights around them left trails in the air. The floor seemed slightly tilted, even though he knew it was flat.
"What…?" Demian frowned.
Mira advanced.
The punch came from the left—or at least, Demian thought it did. He tried to dodge, but the blow hit him square in the jaw, followed by another to the stomach and an elbow to his back.
Demian dropped to his knees.
"This device," Mira began calmly as she walked in circles around him, "emits mana pulses at extremely low frequencies."
She crouched in front of him.
"They don't attack the body. They attack the interpretation of the senses."
Demian tried to stand, but stumbled, losing his balance.
"Sight, hearing, spatial perception… everything still works," Mira continued. "But the brain receives the information slightly out of sync."
She lightly tapped her own temple.
"A delay of fractions of a second. A sound coming from where it shouldn't. A movement that seems bigger or smaller than it really is."
Mira stepped back and attacked again.
Demian tried to counter with a direct lightning strike, firing electricity forward. The discharge exploded against the wall—Mira wasn't there.
She appeared behind him and struck him with a kick to the back, slamming him into the ground once more.
"Against an ordinary person, this would already be enough," Mira said. "Against you… it just gives me the advantage."
Demian breathed heavily, his teeth clenched.
"So that's it…" he muttered. "That's why you always appeared without me being able to notice."
Mira maintained her firm stance.
"Exactly."
She advanced once more, striking with precision, exploiting every mistimed reaction, every delayed movement. Even with his speed and near-perfect mana control, Demian missed by mere millimeters—and that was enough.
After another blow, Demian slid until he stopped near the base of the staircase.
For a moment, everything fell silent.
Mira looked at him, confident.
"While this device is active, Demian… you have no way to reach me."
Demian placed his hand on the ground, his fingers trembling slightly.
But then… he smiled.
"I see," he said quietly, as small lightning sparks began to gather around his body in a different way—more contained, more precise.
Mira narrowed her eyes.
"Then… I don't need to hit you."
The electricity around Demian began to change its pattern.
The lightning around Demian withdrew, no longer spreading through the air and instead running close to his skin like veins of light.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment.
"If my senses are out of sync…" he murmured, "…then I'll stop relying on them."
When he opened his eyes again, his posture had changed. Demian did not advance immediately. Instead, he planted his feet firmly on the ground and released a short electrical discharge that spread across the floor in circular pulses.
The impact was not meant to hit Mira.
It was a test.
Mira felt the vibration beneath her feet and stepped back, analyzing.
Demian smiled.
"It worked," he said. "Even if I can't see you properly, I can still feel how your mana reacts."
He advanced next, not in a straight line, but in a zigzag, deliberately changing his rhythm. His attacks were accompanied by short, explosive discharges, trying to restrict Mira's movement.
For a moment, she truly had to retreat.
Demian almost hit her.
Almost.
When he threw a punch wrapped in electricity, he felt the impact—but not where it should have been. His fist cut through empty air, and in the same instant, a sharp pain exploded in his side.
Mira had shifted half a step to the side… a minimal movement, impossible to perceive with distorted senses.
She took advantage of the opening.
A strike to the knee.
Another to the shoulder.
Demian lost his balance and fell sideways, rolling across the floor to avoid a direct blow to the face.
"Good attempt," Mira said, genuinely impressed. "You tried to replace your senses with mana reading and patterns."
She walked toward him.
"But the device doesn't affect only what you perceive," she continued. "It affects when you perceive it."
Demian forced himself to stand, his muscles trembling.
"Even if you feel my mana react," Mira said, "that information still arrives late."
She touched the device on her belt again. The glowing lines pulsed a second time.
Demian's world became even worse.
The sound grew muffled. The edges of his vision doubled for an instant. His own body seemed to respond half a second after each command.
"Damn it…" he growled, trying to focus his mana for one final advance.
He gathered electricity in his legs and burst forward, deciding to gamble everything on pure speed.
Mira did not panic.
She simply waited.
At the exact moment Demian rushed in, she took a short step to the side and twisted her body, using the force of his own movement against him.
A precise strike to the back of the neck.
The electricity around Demian dispersed completely.
He dropped to his knees, breathing heavily, his vision still distorted.
Mira stopped in front of him, looking down.
"You're trying to turn the fight around," she said. "And that's admirable."
She raised her fist, wrapped in pure mana.
"But as long as this device is active… you're still fighting at a disadvantage."
Demian clenched his teeth, frustrated, but not unconscious.
He was still standing.
But for the first time, it was clear:
he was in serious trouble now.
...
[ In front of Mira's room ]
Alan had reached the top of the staircase, but as soon as he arrived, he stopped in his tracks. Standing in front of him was someone blocking the entrance to the room.
That person was—
"Let me pass, Goliath!" Alan exclaimed.
"Only over my dead body!!" Goliath shouted.