Leomaris’s POV:

Moments earlier at the Germanium Factory, Leomaris had looked back at the corpses. Six people were dead, and he had accounted for two of them himself.

Remorse wasn’t quite the word, but it was his first kill nonetheless. The subtle guilt of having taken a life crept in all the same. After a moment to himself, he squared his shoulders and faced what lay ahead.

The factory wasn’t in the right state. Only chunks of heavy machinery remained, and the room reeked of rusty steel, dust, and dry oil, which made him wonder how on earth it was still operating above board.

His attention shifted, drawn by a few words from Hazel as they eased their way toward the back door before them.

"I believe the cadets have already eliminated more than half of them, but I still estimate at least thirty remain within this building."

Leomaris frowned. Not something they could manage alone. The third-year cadets would turn up soon enough, he was sure of it, but revealing his identity wasn’t a risk he could take.

"We must get to the Sovereign as soon as possible before they arrive."

Hazel nodded in understanding.

Weeks of watching these people had paid off for the third-year cadets. They knew exactly where everything was, and most importantly, where the Sovereign was currently sitting.

Ever so gently, Hazel opened the door as Leomaris peered over, biding his time for whoever drew near the gate. He felt them almost immediately, and the fact that they’d completely blanked his reeking, unholy presence meant taking them head-on would end badly.

The moment he caught a glimpse of them, he pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through their neck, and they went down.

"Hahaha... all that talk, and you died from a gun!" A voice taunted.

Leomaris gritted his teeth in irritation. The next person wasn’t showing themselves, and that was clearly going to be a nuisance.

"I will take the lead, young master," Hazel muttered, forming an illusion of herself.

The illusion walked through the door and barely made it a few steps before flames erupted in its path. The instant it blazed, Hazel moved through the door and pulled the trigger while Leomaris shielded himself.

Leomaris’s eyes went wide. Barely had that one fallen before he caught wind of another footstep.

The smoke had robbed Hazel of her sight, leaving her wide open. Without hesitation, he moved in behind her and pulled the trigger.

Hazel let out a breath she had been holding. "Thank you, young master."

Leomaris gave a confirming motion before speaking. "Two doors away from here. That’s where the Sovereign is."

Hazel nodded in understanding, and they moved carefully forward. A few people crossed their way soon enough, but each one was put down without delay.

Leomaris trailed carefully behind, his alternative plan already taking shape in his head. He was a mere Magician with a few tricks up his sleeve; that was all.

For a Sovereign to have the brass to attack a military academy, though, that puts them squarely at Archmage level. A rank he could only dream of reaching.

His tricks were all he had, and today, they’d have to be enough.

But this went beyond tricks. It required timing, mannerisms, and acting. The shiest mistake would leave him wide open, and that would be that.

Soon enough, they arrived at the door to the Sovereign’s room. Leomaris was already one step into his performance, reciting his hymns before anyone could see him do it.

"Awake, O flame no night can tame,

Consume the false and the curse, O Heliara.

May holy embers cleanse this land of my will.

By wrath and light from the Goddess’s right hand."

His murmurs died the moment he stepped inside.

An office room and a grey-bearded man behind the desk, cigar going, smoke curling lazily into the air. Before the desk, about ten people. Sorcerer rank at the very least, Leomaris reckoned.

"What do we have here?" one of them said with a grin, already approaching Leomaris and Hazel.

"And what’s with the mask?" one tough-looking man with a beast-monkey on his shoulder asked, visibly confused.

People were closing in from behind, but Leomaris paid it no mind. He felt sparks of flame forming above his head, creeping slowly into a halo. His trick had come good.

He gave an exaggerated bow, and when he spoke, his tone carried all the confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

"I am the Jester of the End... Sovereign of the Laughing End, and a member of Mercy of Death."

Laughter broke out among them. Then the halo began to grow, swelling at an alarming rate, and the laughter died in their throats.

Leomaris smirked behind his mask, confident. He’d twigged it straight away, they had felt the presence of his false entity.

"How amusing... your end arrived with a laugh."

"You little—!" The brute barely got the words out before he moved to attack. Hazel pulled the trigger. He went down before he’d taken a step.

Behind the desk, the grey-bearded man put down his cigar and fixed Leomaris with his full attention.

"What do you want... and who sent you?"

He sounded desperate, like a man clutching at straws, trying to bargain his way out of it.

Leomaris’s attention shifted to the halo on his hand. It had begun to grow, bigger and hotter by the second, melting everything it touched. Part of the ceiling gave way, rubble dropping around them as they all moved sharply out of its path.

The halo climbed until it hung in the sky, nearly a hundred times bigger than when it began. Within it, a blindfolded woman conjured entirely from flame appeared, even larger, and almost instantly the halo reformed into the shape of a judgment scale.

Leomaris glanced at the man again. He wasn’t best pleased, that much was plain. But Leomaris gave him even less mind than before, using Conceal on the false entity and reducing the judgment scale to ashen flames. His way of making sure nobody could read what was coming.

Steady steps toward the man, and almost by way of taunt, he dropped one of his men the closer he drew. The man gritted his teeth and ordered the rest to stand down.

"You are the only one I’m here for, Sovereign. The lives of your servants are meaningless to me."

At the desk, he rested his foot against the rim and leaned forward.

"The Laughing End judges... and now, it’s your turn to be judged. Why did you attack the academy?"

The man gritted his teeth, already weighing his next words.

Everything Leomaris had put on display pointed to at least a Philosopher. Archmage sat just a rung below, but the difference in strength wasn’t something to be sniffed at. A Sorcerer had better odds against an Archmage than an Archmage had against a Philosopher.

The man knew he was well out of his depth. His only way out was through cooperation, and they both knew it.

"Would you mind telling me... who sent you?"

Leomaris sneered beneath his mask. With a snap of his fingers, Hazel put down two more, and the rest legged it out of the room in a blind panic.

Leomaris leaned in slightly. When he spoke, his tone had dropped to something low and daunting. "Why did you attack the cadets?!"

The sweat on his brow was testimony enough to how terrified he was. It was dead obvious it had nothing to do with the heat.

"Be—because...

He never got the chance to speak. The door creaked open with a click, and an intimidating command cut through the air.

"Stop right there!"

Behind his mask, Leomaris grimaced. The confidence he’d carried in with him was already faltering. He recognised that voice, and of all the times for it to show up, this was the worst of the lot.