Alan solemnly handed the little clay figure to Isabella. This was her first ti venturing far from ho, and as her brother, he naturally had to give her sothing to rember him by—a parting gift to carry his thoughts.
Isabella tucked the clay figure carefully against her chest. Thanks to the cold aura dwelling in her body, the figure would not soften or lt from heat. On the contrary, it would gradually harden—just like the bond of blood between them, unbreakable and eternal.
Buzz—
The crimson teleportation array emitted a deep hum.
The little girl in white grasped Isabella's hand and stepped into the array without hesitation.
Alan opened his mouth, hesitated, and finally called out with one last question.
"Hey! Can you at least tell where the Frost Sanctum is? If I ever want to find her... where should I go?"
The girl didn't even turn her head. She simply waved a hand dismissively, clearly having no intention of revealing the Sanctum's location—nor of allowing Alan to set foot there.
At that mont, Old Gayle spoke up.
"Alan, don't bother asking. With your current strength, even if you did know where it was, you couldn't get there. And even if, by so miracle, you did make it, they still wouldn't let you in."
"Why not?" Alan asked, puzzled. He was a free man—surely, he could go wherever he pleased. Why was the Frost Sanctum an exception?
"There's no particular reason," Old Gayle said, his expression rare in its seriousness. "You just can't. You're not strong enough. Understand?"
"The Frost Sanctum is a place where tier-diamond mages are common—and even Legendary-level mages like are nothing special there."
"If one day you reach the Legendary tier yourself—or sothing even higher—maybe then you'll be qualified to approach the Sanctum."
"I see..." Alan nodded slowly.
He understood what Old Gayle was getting at. While he might technically be free to roam, in truth, many parts of this vast world were beyond his reach—not because of rules or restrictions, but because of his weakness.
Sure, he could recklessly charge into unknown territory, but whatever ca next—he'd have to bear the consequences alone.
Whether it was the little girl or Old Gayle, they were both saying the sa thing in different ways: they wanted to keep him out of harm's way. They didn't want him to die young from charging into danger too early.
But unlike Old Gayle, the little girl had another reason.
Now that Isabella had officially expressed her willingness, by the customs of the Sanctum, she was to be recognized as a saintess. That title ca with imnse prestige, and the girl certainly didn't want such a noble figure getting too emotionally attached to a re tier-silver brother.
However—if Alan were to soday rise in power, reaching the ranks of King Magus, Mage Emperor, or even the legendary Forbidden Magus—that would be a different story entirely. At that point, leveraging Isabella's familial bond to draw Alan into the Sanctum would be both natural and politically advantageous.
After all, what could be more reasonable than a brother helping the organization his sister belonged to?
Just as the little girl's figure was nearly devoured by the teleportation light, a thin stream of mana flicked back toward Alan. It swirled in the air before him, slowly condensing into glowing text.
"North of the Astla Sacred Realm — the White Death Exclusion Zone."
Alan's eyes widened in surprise.
He hadn't expected that prideful, sharp-tongued little girl to be so soft-hearted after all. She had told him where to find the Frost Sanctum—albeit indirectly.
Then, suddenly, a foreign voice echoed in Alan's mind.
"Technically, the Frost Sanctum does not prohibit visitors. If you wish to co, then co. If you wish to leave, then leave. But know this—getting there is perilous."
"If, within the next ten years, you ascend to the level of a King Magus, the Sanctum shall open its gates to welco you."
"But if you fail... then don't bother showing up. Because that would an you will never catch up to Isabella's achievents. You'll only be able to stand behind her, watching her shine from afar... perhaps even needing her protection."
As the mana fluctuations from the crimson teleportation array faded entirely, the voice in Alan's mind also vanished.
Alan clenched his fists, unwilling to accept that fate. He looked to the sky and roared:
"Frost Sanctum! I swear—I will co to you!"
"When the ti cos, I'll bring Isabella back with my own hands! No one will stop ! I swear it!!"
"…Do we really not need to go check on him?" Francis whispered as the group exited the ruins. He glanced back at Alan, who trailed at the rear of the group, head lowered, spirit utterly crushed.
"In all the ti I've known him, I've never seen him look this defeated."
Old Gayle, walking at the front, didn't even turn around. "Comfort him? What he needs now isn't sympathy—it's clarity. And besides... this is a family matter. What right do you have to get involved?"
"...Fair enough," Francis muttered, scratching his head awkwardly. He turned away and said nothing more.
Blanche and Fort exchanged looks. They understood Old Gayle's reasoning well enough.
In this world, a person's emotions were ultimately their own to resolve.
Others could offer consolation, sure. But most of the ti, that was just surface-level—a gentle touch on armor covering a deep wound. If Alan couldn't co to terms with it himself, no words from others could make it better.
Only when he figured it out would peace return to his heart.
So in this, none of them could help him.
"If I only needed to reach King Magus level... No."
"If I'm going to climb, then I'll climb to the very top!"
"Mage Emperor? Not enough. It has to be Forbidden Magus!"
"Isabella said she wants to beco the greatest mage in the world? Heh… then as her brother, I'll beco the strongest Forbidden Magus in the entire universe!"
Francis stared, wide-eyed. "Uh... guys? Should we really not step in? Alan's starting to sound like he's losing it again."
"Yeah... I'll beco a Forbidden Magus!"
"Only then will people stop trying to push around."
"Only then will that dog Stephen finally shut his arrogant mouth!"
"Forbidden Magus! That's what I'll beco!"
Alan's obsession burned stronger and hotter with each word.
And just when his feverish thoughts reached their peak—he felt sothing snap in his mind.
A cord. A thread of reason.
Alan knew exactly what it was.
It was the tether that had always kept him rational.
And the mont it snapped, the staff he had always kept hidden—Lun Sancta—suddenly burst forth from his body.
It hovered above his head, radiant and unwavering. The glow it emitted was brighter than anything it had ever shown before.
Old Gayle was the first to notice. He imdiately pulled the other Sirius Academy students behind him, narrowing his eyes at Alan's staff.
He wasn't a magus himself and had never fought one, so he couldn't determine whether this strange phenonon was good or bad for Alan.
Then, behind them—just above the collapsing Jacob Ruins—a colossal vortex of mana erupted into the sky.
It seed to resonate with Lun Sancta, vibrating at the sa frequency.
With each pulse of the vortex, Alan's body was drawn in further.
Inhale. Exhale.
And then—
Whoosh.
Alan vanished, swallowed whole by the vortex.
He was gone in the blink of an eye.
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