"Huh? Why did it only banish one person?"
August frowned as he looked at the effect of his magic, confusion and disbelief clear in his voice.
Based on his calculations, this magic-one that selected targets according to "threat level"-should have banished at least half of the enemy's fighting force.
But reality completely betrayed his expectations.
Forget Lucifer, Leviathan, Beelzebub, or Michael.
Not even the weaker devils were affected.
"Still," August muttered, forcing himself to calm down, "by banishing that young man who controls time-stopping power, this spell can't be called a total failure."
He looked at the surrounding magicians, who had already begun moving again.
As for why that youth's "threat level" would exceed that of the leaders of the Three Factions-figures like Sirzechs and Michael-
That was something August couldn't comprehend.
His gaze flicked toward the rapidly approaching Sirzechs and the twelve-winged angel.
Casually, August tapped the void beside him with his magic staff.
Dong-
The sound echoed outward, deep and resonant, like a staff striking solid ground.
In the next instant, Sirzechs' and Michael's movements slowed drastically, as if they'd been dropped into slow-motion playback.
At the same time, three magic circles-red, blue, and purple-appeared in front of August, interposing themselves between him and the two leaders.
A flash of light.
Three devils appeared.
Two men.
One woman.
"Damn it! Another time-type ability?!"
Feeling the abnormal magic restricting his movements, Sirzechs ground his teeth and cursed under his breath.
As he spoke, his vast Power of Destruction erupted outward.
Pure "Destruction" manifested, sweeping away all foreign magical interference around himself and Michael.
Within seconds, the lingering magic completely vanished.
"Thank you, Sirzechs."
After regaining freedom of movement, Michael halted and stared ahead, thanking him without turning his head.
Sirzechs' gaze briefly passed over the three devils standing before August.
He immediately recognized them.
And just as immediately, ignored them.
"No need for thanks. Do you have any impression of that white-haired magician?"
"None. Absolutely none."
Michael's reply was exactly what Sirzechs expected.
"Whether it's magic capable of sacrificing gods, or magic that affects regional time, I've never heard of such techniques. Let alone this magician."
Tsk.
Since when did time-type abilities become this common?
And judging from August's state, he hadn't even expended much energy.
But how could magic of this level possibly be low-cost?
Sirzechs' eyes burned crimson as his Power of Destruction remained active.
He clicked his tongue internally, staring at the old man dozens of meters away-whose body had largely turned into white salt.
"Hey, August! This isn't what we agreed on!"
Seeing Sirzechs, Michael, and Azazel still present, Shalba Beelzebub turned his head sharply, his tone full of dissatisfaction.
"Didn't you say you could send away at least half their forces? And now? Did your magic fail?"
"No."
August answered calmly, not even looking at them.
"My magic did not fail. It activated successfully and produced the intended effect."
As he spoke, August lowered his head, examining his own body.
From the neck down, it had completely turned into white salt.
With his Snow White Right Hand gripping the staff, August struck his own salted body below the neck.
Bang.
The salt shattered.
What remained was only a head suspended in midair.
Then-
Blood.
Bone.
Muscle.
Tissue.
Skin.
Even clothing.
They reconstructed themselves from top to bottom at a visible pace.
At this rate, his body would be fully restored in less than half a minute.
"Although I don't understand why a human youth's 'threat level' would surpass the three faction leaders," August continued evenly, "there's no doubt my magic worked. Loki has vanished as the sacrifice."
"As for the rest, that's your problem."
"My only target was Grayfia Lucifer."
"Tsk. Useless old man."
Katarea clicked her tongue, shooting August a look of contempt before turning away, completely ignoring his ongoing resurrection.
-
"Big brother, who are you?"
Eye to eye with the pink-haired little girl, Hiro blinked and reacted instantly.
"My name is Nanamiya Hiro. I'm just a passing esper. And you, little girl?"
He sat up from where he'd been lying, releasing her hand.
His sky-blue eyes-hidden beneath an illusion-swept over her head.
No fate.
No luck to plunder.
Her true name-
Mana Ouma.
...Gah.
Hiro's mouth twitched violently.
So it wasn't just a coincidence that Principal Jūto had a daughter studying at the University of Tokyo.
This actually happened.
For a moment, Hiro seriously wondered whether August's "Time Banishment" had sent him to another world-
Or merely another point in time within the same world.
"Nanamiya Hiro? That's a weird name."
The little girl stood up, brushing her hand against the stone beneath her.
"A passing esper? Big brother, are you a chūnibyō?"
She narrowed her cherry-blossom-colored eyes and smiled sweetly.
"My name is Mana Ouma. Just call me Mana, big brother."
"Mana, huh..."
Hiro glanced at the fresh crimson stains on the scarred black stone below, his voice turning faintly distant.
Did I just stumble into Mana's first contact with the Origin Stone?
At this point, Mana should already be Eve.
Does that make me Adam?
Even without checking, Hiro was certain his hand bore no cuts.
No injuries.
In theory, there was no chance he'd be infected with the virus along with Mana.
And with his absurdly strong body and the ability Inherent Physique++, the virus would need to be unbelievably powerful to affect him.
The real question was-
He had no idea how high-level the Void Virus actually was.
"Yes! I'm Mana."
The little girl smiled brightly, clearly pleased that he'd used her name.
Hmm.
It's been nine years.
Does anyone still remember poor Mana?
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