The boy's vision became blurry; however, he was doing everything possible to stay conscious.
There had to be a way out of this... Right?
"Heh, though I have to admit you gave me a good fight," the woman said with a smile. "You're monstrously strong for a mere brat."
The woman laughed, and then, another voice was heard.
"But what on earth happened here?" Lloyd recognized the voice; it was his mother.
The boy felt his heart raced. She was in danger.
"Huh? Good heavens! Lloyd!" The woman ran toward the boy as he lost consciousness.
Leona looked away nervously, scratching her cheek.
"Uh... I might have gone a little overboard."
"A little? Look what you've done to my son!" Barbara responded hysterically.
"Leona..." a cold voice then said, making the woman tremble.
The air shone with golden tones as multiple mechanical hands emerged and lunged at the girl.
Two of them gently restrained Lloyd, while two others firmly held the woman, and the final two appendages pressed the edges of twin scythes to Leona's throat as a threat.
"You've gone too far. When you said you were going to test my dear nephew's capabilities, I didn't expect you meant such a barbaric act," the man exclaimed.
"My poor child," Barbara caught the boy in her arms, hugging him tightly. "Alioth! What is this supposed to mean?"
Blonde hair, golden eyes, dazzling beauty, and unparalleled arrogance.
Those were the characteristics of the Regulus family.
Lloyd had inherited the hair and the arrogance from that family, who are the most important merchants in Avalon.
"I'm sorry, sister, apparently I overestimated that beast's reasoning capacity," the man apologized.
Leona had been bought by the man years ago. She was the trump card of a group of barbarians attacking the border.
When they were massacred, Leona was captured and enslaved. Alioth had simply purchased her as part of his personal guard.
Baltazar had asked that she serve as an instructor for his son, a request Alioth didn't refuse.
Not only because it was something for his dear nephew, but also because Baltazar himself was the one who had defeated the woman.
He, seeking the Noirs' approval, helped with several military missions. One of them involved massacring the gang Leona was with.
"I-I'm sorry, sir, I got excited," the woman apologized, still trapped in the arms of an enormous marionette.
The man was using the Regulus family's hereditary ritual, which allows for the storing and manipulating of everything that is his property.
"You got excited? Damn idiot! You were fighting a kid; how was he supposed to defend himself?" the blond responded, clearly annoyed.
"HAHAHA! You really didn't see it, did you? That brat not only managed to damage me, he even broke my arm! He's an incredible kid," the woman laughed.
Alioth raised an eyebrow, observing Leona.
It was true, she had clear wounds.
The woman who sealed her power with armor to enjoy combat more had been put on the ropes by his nephew.
His eyes analyzed the environment, deducing which damage Leona had caused and which had been caused by Lloyd.
The man looked at his nephew, being squeezed in his mother's arms. It was clear Leona had held back, but that still didn't take away his credit.
What kind of genius was he?
It didn't seem like a feat of this world.
"My poor baby," Barbara lamented; she was still hugging her son.
He'd become more distant since his friend's death; that reality check had forced him to mature too soon.
He'd stopped being the mama's boy who allowed himself to be pampered.
It was something that had to happen, she knew. But it had happened too soon, or perhaps the change was too abrupt.
"Don't worry, sister, I'll lend you the best healers at my disposal. Marid, Asclepius, take care of the boy." Upon saying those words, a golden glow appeared.
Large masses of water accumulated in the air, merging to form a feminine figure whose face was covered by a turban.
"Have you called me, master?"
It was a Djinn, a type of intelligent demon that could make contracts with humans and other intelligent beings.
Normally, the Djinn always came out ahead; however, in this case, Marid had been left at Alioth's complete mercy.
Next to her, a man around 50 years old appeared, with an unkempt beard and messy hair.
He wore a green sweater and striped shorts. In one hand he had a jar of jam and in the other a knife.
"What the hell!?" The man turned to look around, then met Alioth's gaze, understanding what had happened.
He sighed while leaning slightly forward.
"Hadn't we agreed you wouldn't call me in the mornings? I was preparing breakfast," the man said, his tone quite tired; bags under his eyes revealed how little he slept.
Alioth just rolled his eyes.
"It's almost two in the afternoon; it's not early morning. Besides, this is an emergency," the man responded exasperated.
Asclepius scratched his nose.
"If you'd called at dawn, I'd probably be awake... And well, I suppose it's inevitable, though I would've liked to be more presentable," the man mentioned.
The blond man's head tilted slightly forward, clear skepticism reflected on his face.
"You're never presentable."
"I know, but... You know what? Forget it. Just tell me what to do," the man gave up.
"Well, this here is my nephew. As you can see, he's badly wounded; you must take care of him. I suppose I don't need to add that you must be as careful as possible."
"As you command," Marid said.
"Okay," the other added.
Barbara squeezed her son tighter, as if she didn't want to separate from him.
Alioth seemed to notice this, putting his hand on her shoulder, though something interrupted him before he could say anything.
"What happened? Are you all okay?" Magnus arrived.
The man seemed disoriented; he was out of breath.
He looked around, noticing the enormous marionette suspended in the air, and the woman trapped in it.
Then he looked at Lloyd, being hugged by his mother.
The silver-haired man scratched his cheek nervously.
"Hehehe, looks like I arrived a bit late, huh?"
The others gave him a look that said everything: The mage had arrived a bit late to the action.