Ivan didn't even blink. My admission, which should have shattered the world, was just another piece of data for him. He was a Regressor; he had already seen the impossible.
"An Anomaly," he whispered, a term of classification, not surprise. "A soul from beyond the Script. It explains your power... and your recklessness."
"And you're the erased heir, back from the dead to fix a game you already lost," I retorted.
"I didn't lose," he hissed, his crimson eyes flashing. "I was cheated. Now, our mutual confession is over. We have a problem."
He turned his gaze back to the biodome, a half-mile away, where Silas was. "He's S-Rank in Abyssal magic. You're clearly high-level, but you're a fencer. Tonight, you lost the moment he revealed his power. You couldn't even get close."
He was right. My entire build was based on S-Rank [Rapier Arts] and B-Rank [Footwork]. It was useless against an S-Rank mage who could crush me with void tendrils from fifty yards away.
