"Did you find a lead on the magic stones?"
Secre’s voice cracked with hope.
For five hundred years, she had searched for them. Without their power, she couldn’t undo the forbidden seal she had cast. Without that seal breaking, the First Wizard King would remain a statue forever.
Rowan rcer shook his head. "No. I only heard the term from you."
Her expression froze. "Then how do we free him?"
The seal had consud the combined power of every magic stone. By all logic, only the sa force could unravel it.
Then she rembered.
Rowan had undone her own cursed transformation as casually as brushing dust from his sleeve.
That ant only one thing.
He didn’t need the stones.
"Let’s go."
Rowan drew a line in the air. Space folded obediently, opening into a shimring doorway.
Secre stared. "Spatial magic..."
That made four distinct types of magic he’d used. No newly minted knight wielded power like that.
They stepped through and erged outside Hage Village, where the colossal remains of the ancient demon lood beside the stone statue of the First Wizard King.
Rowan glanced at the quiet village in the distance. "Asta’s hotown. Fitting."
He approached the statue, opened his grimoire, and snapped his fingers.
A faint blue radiance brushed the stone.
The gray surface peeled away like ash in the wind.
Gold hair. Calm eyes. A gentle smile untouched by ti.
Lumiere Silvamillion Clover opened his eyes.
"Welco back, Your Highness," Secre whispered, tears trembling.
Lumiere embraced her. "You carried this alone for centuries. Thank you."
For five hundred years she had guarded the five-leaf grimoire in the form of a small bird, watching for the Word Devil’s sches. No one else knew the weight she bore.
Rowan clapped lightly. "Well. A reunion worth waiting for."
Both of them flushed.
Lumiere turned to Rowan and bowed. "You have my gratitude."
Secre quickly explained who Rowan was.
"No need for thanks," Rowan said plainly. "I wanted to study your Light Magic. And I’m curious about the Word Devil."
Lumiere blinked at the honesty, then smiled. "You’re welco to exchange knowledge anyti. I enjoy research."
Rowan folded his arms. "What’s your next move?"
Lumiere’s gaze sharpened.
"The Word Devil manipulated Licht through reincarnation magic. That was not his final move. I’m far from my original strength. I’ll need ti to recover and uncover his intentions before he acts."
"And when you do?"
"I’ll end him. Completely."
Rowan considered that. "You could disguise yourselves and join the Magic Knights. Recover quietly. Watch from inside. The Black Bulls don’t care about past identities."
He tugged at his cloak. "We specialize in unusual applicants."
Secre outlined the state of the Clover Kingdom and Captain Yami’s recruitnt habits. Lumiere listened, thoughtful.
"Very well," he decided. "We’ll join."
It suited him. Talent ca in strange shapes. Yami’s philosophy aligned with his own.
Rowan snapped his fingers again, leaving behind a perfect stone replica in Lumiere’s place, then opened a portal toward the capital.
"Stay the night. Report to the castle tomorrow."
After settling them at an inn, Rowan returned to the Black Bulls’ hideout.
Back in his room, he drew out the five-leaf grimoire.
His consciousness slipped inside.
Darkness stretched endlessly. Three black swords stood embedded in the void. A small devil with black wings sat nearby.
Liebe opened his eyes slowly.
"You shouldn’t be here."
"Good evening, Liebe."
The devil vanished in a streak of shadow and reappeared behind Rowan, claw at his throat. "How do you know my na?"
Rowan dispersed like smoke and reford in front of him. "I know more than that. I know about Licita."
Black energy erupted from Liebe, flooding the space.
"Anti-magic!"
The grimoire’s inner world drowned in negation. Magic dissolved on contact.
Liebe had spent fifteen years here, cursing Lucifero for killing Licita. That hatred birthed anti-magic itself.
Rowan exhaled lightly. "Let’s not waste ti."
A subtle distortion rippled outward.
Liebe’s thoughts stalled. His mind froze mid-motion.
Anti-magic devoured spells. It could not devour authority.
Rowan placed a hand on him.
mories unfolded.
The underworld.
Seven layers stacked like an inverted abyss. The deeper one fell, the stronger the devils beca. The three rulers at the bottom were known as the Sovereigns.
Lucifero. Beelzebub. Astaroth.
Astaroth had vanished years ago, replaced by gicula.
Devils were born with fixed power. They did not grow.
Lower devils tornted those beneath them for amusent. Cruelty was recreation. The human world was a toy box they longed to invade.
Entry required human ritual or contract.
Liebe had been born powerless. A devil without magic. The lowest of the low.
One day, he was thrown at the gate separating worlds as a joke.
He passed through unhard.
Because he had no magic.
The human world nearly killed him anyway. Until Licita found him.
She called him her son.
Rowan withdrew his hand.
"The Word Devil was upper rank," he murmured. "Not even close to the Sovereigns."
He picked up the Demon-Slayer Sword, then the Demon-Destroyer.
"One more thing," he said. "Asta is Licita’s biological son. If you try to take his body, you’ll be killing her child."
Liebe’s eyes widened.
"And even with anti-magic, Lucifero is far beyond you alone. Work with Asta."
Rowan vanished.
Silence returned.
Licita’s son.
Liebe had planned to use Asta, gradually rging until he could seize control and escape to seek revenge.
But if that boy truly was her child...
He rembered the resemblance. The stubborn grin. The way Asta never stopped pushing forward.
The orphanage was near where he had lived with Licita.
It fit.
Liebe lowered his claws.
Even anti-magic had limits.
If Lucifero was to fall, it would require more than hatred.
It would require trust.
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