Misfit At Magic Academy: They Wanted a Godly Summon, Got Me Instead Chapter 49: The Dried Brush of Heaven

"The Dried Brush of Heaven... Paint My Reality."

I opened my eyes.

Darkness around flared in gray strokes — like a brush leaving trails on an invisible canvas.

Lines erged and joined together: walls, ceiling, floor... A room painted onto a sheet of paper.

Beside , Saddler. Just as confused as I was.

"Any idea where the hell we are?" he whispered, waving his hands through the air. "I can’t feel any energy. Nothing."

"Feels like we’ve been pulled into soone’s domain," I said. "This can’t be the real world. Riven’s portals connect to another world. And now... everything’s changed."

"Another world, huh?" Saddler scoffed. "You sure do know more than I thought. Care to explain properly?"

"If I had any answers, I’d give them. I don’t even know what’s happening myself."

And then—

A thin crimson line appeared before us, as if drawn through the air with a single stroke.

A silhouette stepped out from it.

A man. Hunched over. Dressed in a faded green robe. Bald. Skin aged and wrinkled like parchnt.

His gaze pierced right through us.

The world trembled. Space contracted.

Our legs buckled.

"Aaargh..."

We dropped to our knees.

Not out of will — our bodies simply refused to move. It felt like we were being crushed.

"The force pinning you down is called Hysteria," ca the stranger’s raspy voice. "It reflects the difference between us. My power, and your insignificance. What a sha. Seems I won’t get much amusent today."

"Who... are you?"

"? Funny question. Intruders from another world should be introducing themselves first. You’re inside of a domain.

This territory was designed to drain you of all energy. Put simply, you won’t be leaving here alive."

A territory?

"Old man... quit playing gas and explain properly. Where the hell are we? Where are the others? What did you do to them?!"

He chuckled. Pulled down the scarf hiding his face—

And I regretted asking.

That smile — if it could be called one — revealed long, sharp, beast-like teeth. His face had no skin. Just sinew stretched tight over exposed muscle and jaw.

"Explain? Why bother? You’re going to die anyway. Easier for to end it right here."

He shrugged off his robe. His body was dried out, but on his back, a tallic spine protruded like a biochanical parasite.

Over his shoulder: a frost-covered sword, as long as he was tall. Jagged. Barbed.

"Before you die, to be fair, I’ll give you my na. I’m Sealed-in-Darkness. But friends call Sid.

I am the third Onmyoji of this world."

He raised his arm.

BOOM!

Hysteria vanished instantly. We could breathe again. Move.

"Let’s fight to the death!" Sid bellowed, slamming his sword into the ground. "Show what you can do without magic, you pitiful humans!"

A wave of raw fury radiated from him. Primal. Monstrous.

We took our stances. Against an enemy like this — without magic? It felt more like a sacrifice than a fight.

Our powers were nothing in comparison.

But the others were counting on us.

I clenched my fists. My chest burned with fire. I had to survive.

Air... I hope your brothers are with you.

Lirael... If I die, you’ll be alone again.

I will return. Just stay alive!

...

On the other side — silence.

Lirael, Riven, Sylas, and Tyrion sat in a dark space. Soon, red candles flickered to life before them.

They turned around and saw a stranger sitting nearby. Young. Dressed in sleeveless green robes.

He stared at them. Eyes green. Hair a lavender hue. One sharp fang protruding from his lip.

"Who are you...?" Lirael asked cautiously.

He smirked but said nothing.

Sylas crossed his arms and scoffed, mind racing to analyze the situation.

"Lirael. Tyrion. Riven.You don’t feel your energy either, do you?"

Lirael’s eyes widened in horror.

"No..." Tyrion lowered his gaze. "We’re probably inside soone’s territory."

"Exactly what I thought. Soone’s manipulating this space. I don’t know where we are, but we were expected."

Sylas looked dead serious. Taller, stronger than the others, he instinctively took the lead.

"Only a Supre Technique could distort space like this. We’re dealing with sothing far more advanced."

The stranger laughed.

"Supre Technique? Hah! You humans throw around fancy terms like you understand them! Pathetic. I’ve seen rodents with more insight. Seriously, are you all this slow?"

His mocking voice set them on edge. His grin turned arrogant.

"Where you’re sitting now is a special domain crafted by Lady Sayuri. Made just for you. Your chances of escape? Like a squirrel defeating a lion."

"Interesting," Sylas closed his eyes. "But it’d be better if you introduced yourself and explained what the hell this is."

"Intruders don’t get to know our world’s laws. But why am I even here? You’ll see for yourselves soon enough."

Around the circle, more candles lit up. On the floor. On invisible walls. Revealing an empty room.

A soft, feminine voice echoed:

"Greetings, earthborns. And welco to my reality.

Everything you see here is the incarnation of my thoughts. A world created through my domain.

My na is Sayuri. I am the fourth Onmyoji of the Void Realm."

Who is this woman? Why does she speak like they’re trapped?

"What a ridiculous joke!" Sylas rose. "Whoever you are, show yourself! Great mages shouldn’t cower in the shadows!"

"You need not see her," the stranger sneered. "Your eyes are unworthy of beholding Her Majesty’s beauty! Don’t break the circle. If you ruin the ga, you’ll be very, very sorry."

"What damn ga are you talking about...?!"

Before the group, lights ford a square. A table. A stack of cards floated above it.

"The ga you’ll play is called Dungeon Raiders. It will determine who deserves to live... and who to die. Please sit on your knees and do not break the circle."

"That damn vixen... tossed us into so fake-ass illusion just to toy with us?!"

"Don’t be so sour.

Play, if you wish to live."

Fuming, Sylas sat down. Riven swallowed hard. Tyrion accepted it.

Lirael... closed in on herself, worrying about the others.

"You’ll be guided by our student. His na is Claude."

Our student? Sylas wondered if his friends were also trapped with other Onmyoji.

"Save your tricks for soone else, musclehead," Claude sneered, eyes locked on him.

"And rule number one... All players must remain neutral."

SMACK!

Their heads jolted. mories, thoughts — wiped clean. None of them rembered each other.

"You are all in the sa boat. The goal: win the ga. Good luck, players."

...

On the third side of this conflict were Air and Ash.

A space ford before them — an abandoned building, lined with endless hallways and side rooms.

Moonlight spilled through the window, silver and cold. Through the beams, the floating dust was visible.

The girls were lost.

"This hallway... it never ends."

"Hate to interrupt your drama, but where the hell are we? Weren’t we just flying through space? Maybe this is all a dream? Pinch , Air!"

Air narrowed her eyes.

"Gladly. But I doubt a dream would sll this moldy. Dust, rot... sothing here has died."

She glanced out the window. Pitch-black outside. Then where was the moonlight coming from?

"Listen, Air..." Ash murmured. "Don’t you feel like soone’s watching us?"

"What?"

And suddenly, a chilling aura pressed from behind. Sothing vast. Terrifying.

They turned slowly.

What they saw — no nightmare could conjure.

A towering man. Over three ters tall. Long black hair. Eyes like black voids with white spiral pupils.

He spread a shark-like grin.

"Well hello, little ones."

From his back, he drew a colossal sword wrapped in bandages.

There was no defeating this.

Only one thought remained.

Run...

...and don’t look back.

RUN!