He had heard a massive sound.
Or perhaps it wasn't sound at all—but he had no other way to describe it.
As if the entire world had mouths, whispering to him, all those sounds merging into one until they ceased to be sound at all.
'At that moment, I wasn't myself.'
He was the world itself.
As he recalled that boundless vastness, a single truth struck him:
I am infinite.
"Hng… Ugh…"
Shirone, overwhelmed by emotions that transcended mere joy, clenched her eyes shut and sprinted forward.
She couldn't bear it—if she didn't run, she felt like she would collapse.
Though her body had been confined once more, her spirit still remembered that fleeting moment of liberation.
'I am free.'
How much time had passed?
Even with her eyes open, Shirone couldn't see ahead—until a dull impact struck her face.
"Ugh!"
She tumbled onto her backside, and when she looked around, she saw the filthy scenery of an alleyway.
'How did I end up here?'
The emotions had been so overwhelming that she couldn't even remember what had just happened. But now, reality crashed down on her.
"What the hell? Annoying brat."
A group of vagrants glared at Shirone like predators spotting prey.
The man she had bumped into grabbed her by the collar.
"Hey, you. Out of your damn mind?"
"S-sorry!"
"You think sorry cuts it? Spit it out—you're one of those Wolf gang punks, aren't ya? Just tried to shank me, didn't you?"
"N-no! I didn't!"
They took one look at Shirone's eyes and knew.
This scrawny kid, adorable even when sprawled on the ground, didn't have the guts to throw a punch, let alone wield a knife.
The only thing left to do was rob her, but judging by her clothes, she probably didn't have any money.
Still, her delicate features had an air of nobility—if they sold her off to the slavers in the South, they'd make a hefty sum.
'Definitely a commoner. No need to worry about consequences.'
Just as they were thinking that, a girl's voice echoed from the alley entrance.
"What're you guys up to? Something fun?"
The men immediately turned.
"Lady Amy!"
Shirone, sensing a savior, looked toward this "Amy" person—
'…She's just a kid.'
A girl around her own age, with reddish bangs covering one eye.
"Hehe, what brings you here? Bored again?"
Though her tone was light, the men's hands clasped together in deference as they approached her.
Anyone who knew her identity would understand.
Karmis Amy.
The youngest daughter of the Karmis family—nobility of the First Class, second only to royalty in the kingdom's hierarchy.
For a noble girl to mingle with street trash was beyond common sense, but for a rebellious teenager sick of her gilded life, delinquency was her only joy.
"This runt tried to kill me! We were just teachin' her a lesson," one thug lied smoothly.
"N-no! I just bumped into him by accident!"
"Liar. You expect us to buy that?"
A burly man drove his foot into Shirone's stomach, making her curl up in pain.
"Ugh…!"
"You owe us compensation, brat! Where's your mom, huh? What kinda woman births a shameless brat like you and then disappears? Go get her!"
Shirone was stunned.
How could these men, who surely had parents themselves, insult someone else's mother like that?
"Oi, this brat's eyes changed. You pissed, kid?"
The vagrants, sensing Shirone's rage, swarmed her, kicking and stomping.
Even then, Shirone didn't understand why they avoided hitting her face.
Then Amy spoke.
"Enough. You'll kill her at this rate."
The men immediately backed off, and Amy hopped down from a wooden crate, approaching Shirone.
"You okay?"
"I-I didn't do anything…"
"Who said you did? I asked if you were okay."
"I… don't know if I am."
Amy studied Shirone's face intently.
'Don't make that world-weary face over something this small. I've had it way harder than you.'
To outsiders, the Karmis family's youngest daughter lived a life of privilege.
'I work way harder than you, so why do you get all the pity?'
Her dominance over the alley's thugs was born from that resentment.
Even if it was childish, when a noble did it, the rules changed.
Amy turned away.
"So, what now? Anything fun left?"
Shirone, who had assumed Amy would send her home, was stunned.
Meanwhile, the thugs, familiar with Amy's cruel whims, answered smoothly.
"We were gonna rob her, then sell her to a brothel."
Amy smirked.
Of course, she had no intention of indulging their crimes—just roughing Shirone up a bit before sending her home.
"Hmm."
Studying Shirone's face, Amy's sadistic side stirred.
"Brothel workers can't have flaws. Why not strip her and check?"
Lately, she'd been curious about such things—and since Shirone was a commoner, there'd be no consequences.
'Besides… he's kinda cute.'
Shirone's looks were undeniably good.
"Strip. If you do as you're told, maybe we'll let you go."
Shirone's mind went blank.
This didn't feel real. The people before her seemed like demons.
"How… How could you? That's evil!"
"You didn't know? The world's always been like this. You're just a victim 'cause you're weak. Everyone only cares about themselves."
The thug leader scoffed.
Criticizing the world made him feel mature, smarter than the rest.
'You're wrong, little girl.'
You talk of cruelty, but you don't know true cruelty.
You chase suffering, but you don't know true pain.
'You'll never understand.'
Life is much longer than you think.
"Hey! The lady said strip! You wanna get hit again?"
"..."
Shirone's lack of response made Amy uneasy.
'Did we break her?'
But Shirone wasn't broken.
Her mind was sharper than ever, hyper-focused on the changes unfolding within her.
The violence had triggered something—her heightened senses catapulted her into the Spirit Zone.
'This is…?'
The second time was different. Now, real-world information flooded in.
She could hear the thugs blinking.
The boundary between herself and the outside world dissolved as her consciousness instinctively sought a path—
—and landed on the memory of Alpheas casting magic at the academy.
"Ah…"
Her insight began etching Alpheas's emotions, senses, posture, and movements into her mind like a printing press.
Countless patterns combined, and at last, the fundamental truth surfaced.
"Brat! Hurry up and drop your pants! The lady wants a show!"
A thug grabbed Shirone's collar and shook her—nearly ejecting her from the Zone.
The Spirit Zone demanded extreme focus, leaving her vulnerable to outside disruptions.
It was like walking a tightrope while someone shook the rope.
As Shirone's eyes darkened, Amy suddenly shouted:
"Wait! Stop—!"
But it was too late.
Shirone's will violently distorted the natural order.
BOOM!
A gale of incredible density erupted, lifting everything in the alley—
Wooden crates, stones, the thugs, even Amy.
"AAAAH! HELP!"
The screams snapped Shirone back to reality.
The alley was eerily empty—until the bodies began falling.
THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!
The sickening cracks of bones hitting the ground echoed.
Gravity, often overlooked, was a merciless force.
The thugs' limbs shattered on impact, bones jutting through skin.
"Guhhh…!"
"M-my arm… my leg…!"
Legs bent grotesquely; forearm bones tore through flesh.
Shirone panicked.
She hadn't expected a moment of anger to cause such carnage.
Only one person landed unharmed—Amy.
Nobles trained their bodies from childhood, and as a First-Class heir, she was no exception.
Holding down her fluttering skirt, she stared at Shirone in shock.
"What… are you?"
The scene Shirone had created was a stark reminder of why mages were feared.
Even Amy, with her honed reflexes, hadn't resisted the wind's fury.
"Answer me! Where did you learn magic? How can a commoner—?!"
She cut herself off.
The screams had drawn the guards.
If her identity got out, her family wouldn't let it slide.
"Tch!"
Pushing off a wall, she zigzagged up the alley's sides and vanished.
Shirone, dazed by the superhuman feat, snapped back to reality.
'This is bad.'
If the guards arrived, they'd pin everything on her.
'Dad…'
The city had taught her one thing: the world was cruel to the weak.
'No one will listen to me.'
She turned and ran—
—toward the only person she could trust.
Karmis Manor
The Karmis family—First-Class nobility, pillars of the kingdom.
Though not based in the capital, their influence stretched across Tormia.
Only two remained in the main house: the retired family head, Shakora, and Amy.
"I'm home."
"Where've you been? Skipping lessons again?"
Despite being past sixty, Shakora had no trace of white hair, his tall frame and sharp glasses exuding pride.
"I've learned everything already. It's boring."
"So you played with street trash instead? Even geniuses get overtaken if they laze around. A gem must be polished. Grow complacent, and one day, you'll get stabbed in the back."
"Ugh! Enough lecturing!"
Shakora chuckled.
He knew her teenage rebellion stemmed from frustration—both at her genius and her gilded cage.
'The grass is always greener.'
He let her be because, unlike her siblings, she'd inherited his talent in full.
'When she realizes what she holds, the scales will balance themselves.'
That was the fate of a genius.
Amy froze. His scolding had dredged up the day's events.
'What was that kid?'
She'd trained relentlessly, hating the idea that her status was all she had.
'He looked my age…'
How had someone with no training or education wielded magic?
'An accidental awakening? A latent talent?'
No other explanation came to mind.
—Grow complacent, and one day, you'll get stabbed in the back.
Amy bit her lip.
'I'll never lose.'
Yet today, she'd been struck down by someone she'd always looked down on.
"Dad."
Shakora set aside his paper, surprised by her initiative.
"Hm?"