As the first light of dawn crossed the sea and touched the lonely island, the Tower of Heaven awakened.
Weiss blew his whistle, the shrill sound tearing the morning silence apart.
"You damned layabouts—up! All of you!"
Days of taut nerves, plus this morning's shift, had left him seething. Cursing under his breath, he stomped to the cell door, already picking which unlucky wretch he'd vent on.
Clang—
The heavy lock on the bars snapped open.
The moment the door cracked, a figure burst from the blind spot beside it like a coiled leopard!
Shane's arm clamped around Weiss's neck like an iron band, the pressure so fierce it crushed every sound in his throat.
Weiss could only rasp "gh—gh—," eyes bulging in panic. He thrashed twice, then went limp.
"Move!" Shane barked, yanking the longsword from the man's belt and flinging him aside.
He felt no pity for these dark-magic traffickers—scum, every one.
Erza and Simon, already poised, shot out like loosed arrows!
The sentries on both sides had only just reacted—before they could shout, Erza had torn the weapons from their hands, and Simon's fists and feet dropped them a heartbeat later.
"What's going on?!" came the startled shouts of other overseers from deeper in the cell block, bootfalls clattering fast toward them.
"Listen up!" Shane turned toward the rows of cells, voice sharp and carrying. "We're leaving this island. If you want your freedom back—fight with us!"
Silence crashed down. Only harsh, strangled breathing echoed. Years of despair and fear had rusted most people's spines; the will to resist had been ground almost smooth.
Then a scrawny figure lunged up to clutch the bars.
Shane made a small sound of surprise—he recognized the boy he'd saved from a whipping days ago. He hadn't expected him to still be alive, let alone not punished afterward.
The boy's face was still bruised, but his eyes burned. With everything he had, he shouted, "I'm done with this! I'm going with you!"
The cry dropped like a stone into stagnant water, rippling outward.
Seeing the stir it caused, Shane fed the flames.
His sword crashed down on the boy's lock—clang!—the chain snapped. Without looking at the boy, he swept his gaze over the flickering eyes in the cells and raised his voice:
"The door's open. But freedom is something you take yourself. If you're afraid of being dragged in… then stay and wait for this to end."
The boy shoved the gate and sprinted out, a few friends on his heels, and planted himself behind Shane without a second thought.
He glanced back at the figures still wavering and swore, "What are you scared of? Stay and you die—charge out and you might live! You won't get a second chance!"
"He's right!" someone shouted at last from the crowd. "Let's cut these animals down!"
"Dead either way—I'd rather die out there!"
"Take me! I'm coming too!"
One shout after another—sparks in dry grass. More and more hands grabbed the bars, the same fire in their eyes.
"Jellal, the rear's yours!" Shane gave him a long, steady look.
"Got it!" Jellal nodded hard, eyes resolute. "Wally, Sawyer, Millianna—come on! We're freeing people!"
No more words. The group split in two at once. Jellal led his team into the depths of the cell block, using keys taken from overseers to throw open door after door, gathering a tide of people who wanted to be free.
Shane, Erza, and Simon led the first wave—just over a dozen of the most fired-up slaves—charging toward the exit of the block!
Just before they went, Shane glanced back, helpless. "Grandpa Rob, you really want to come with us?"
"Don't sell me short—I was a proper mage in my day!" Rob huffed and glared, dead set on joining the front line.
He knew how old he was. He didn't want to hide in the back—he wanted to burn what strength he had left in this revolt.
Shane could only sigh and resolved to keep an eye on the old man.
"Enemy attack! The slaves are rioting!"
By then the guards had swarmed out of the barracks, spears and swords in hand, feral-faced as they blocked the exit to pen the uprising in.
The melee exploded.
Shane was first through. Dark-gold light flared in his hands, and the crimson greatbow that once divided sky and earth sprang back into being, its glow chilling in the dim corridor.
"W-what… is that?!" The overseers faltered, stunned by the sudden change.
"This form feels right."
His fingertips brushed the warm bow-limb; Shane's eyes went cold. He drew an invisible string, and a pure crimson bolt of mana snapped into shape.
Ffft—
The light-arrow screamed from the bow, drilled the chest of the foremost overseer with the cleaver, and hurled him backward. He hit the floor and didn't move again.
Before anyone could react, Shane loosed again.
Ffft! Ffft! Ffft!
No wasted shots. Lightning-fast.
Crimson streaks flashed; each arrow burst a vivid spray of blood.
If someone could have seen the faint Book of Heroic Spirits in Shane's mind at that moment, they'd have been shocked by how the numbers had shifted:
…
Name: Shane
Alignment: Neutral · Good · Human
Strength: E– → E+ (power clearly beyond a normal human's limits; feats others call "impossible" come easy)
Endurance: E– → E+ (excellent toughness at the edge of human limits; can operate under extreme conditions)
Agility: E– → E (top human tier; coordination and quickness fit for elite activity)
Mana: E– → E (can sense a faint mana flow; no longer a blank)
Luck: EX (bearer of the Book of Heroic Spirits; beyond normal metrics; maximum resistance to "predestined fate")
Skills: None
…
Days of tenfold "warmth" tempering had remade his body.
Now his Strength and Endurance had both breached E+, his every movement backed by power far beyond the norm.
Agility had stabilized at E—nimble and coordinated like a top athlete; mana was no longer a void—he could faintly sense and guide it.
He was, in truth, a "miniature Heroic Spirit" walking among men.
And with the crimson greatbow in hand—not only did he gain overwhelming ranged dominance, it patched his raw damage. The silhouette of a budding stat monster was already there.
"H-he's a Holder-type mage!"
"I know him! He's the mage who hit us the other day!"
Someone among the overseers finally found the words—panic laced the shout.
"Go! Go call the mage-soldiers!"
~~~
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