Forbidden Constellation's Blade-Chapter 157: Pale Beneath The Mask

The moment Ryn could fully see the Admin’s mask was when his mind started racing.

The element of surprise was gone.

His gaze locked onto the Admin’s black porcelain mask, cataloging details he’d learn to recognize a lifetime ago.

This one’s mask was more subtle, less ornamental and more built for efficiency.

Grade Two, Ryn thought grimly.

The Administrators he’d encountered before, both in Deimos and Dunwick, had been little more than caretakers. Grade One. Noncombatants that were tasked with cleanup and observation.

Dangerous only if left long enough.

This person wasn’t that.

Their posture was ready, with no obvious openings at a first glance, clearly used to being on the battlefield.

Ryn exhaled slowly and measured himself.

He’s gotten stronger over the past weeks, so much so that the past him wouldn’t even recognize himself.

I can win this. But only if I take control first.

Ryn drew Snow in a single smooth motion and activated Aquila. His legs burst with energy, as if a torrent of power rushed into him.

He crossed the distance in a handful of steps—and brought the blade down hard toward the Administrator’s skull.

The attack never landed.

At the last possible instant, black light rippled in the Administrator’s hands.

Two daggers condensed into existence, their edges slick with a green substance. Sparks flew as they collided against each other.

Ryn tried pressing forward, but the Administrator slid back half a step, fully prepared.

Knowing it would be pointless, he kicked off immediately. Aquila’s light flaring as he retreated several paces in a blur, skidding to a stop behind a large cluster of manalite growths.

The daggers spun once in the Administrator’s grip, settling into a reverse grip.

A contest of speed, Ryn thought. Fine.

He adjusted his grip on Snow before getting into stance again.

That was when the Administrator spoke.

"Ryn Eden Arctis."

The voice came out more feminine, one that he didn’t expect.

"Captain of Gremory’s Hero Party," she continued. "Cancer told me about you."

Ryn didn’t respond right away.

Cancer...?

The name meant nothing to him.

Which, in itself, meant everything.

He knew the Seats. Or at least, he knew of them. Even in his first life, information about the lower and mid-ranking Seats had leaked.

But this one—

Nothing.

That meant they were high up.

High enough that they didn’t move personally.

And yet—

They know me.

The realization settled heavily on his chest.

The Cult of Evernight had finally drawn a line around his name and added him on the list.

The Administrator didn’t attack.

Instead, she straightened slightly, daggers lowering just enough to signal intent rather than surrender.

"Stand down," she said.

Ryn didn’t move.

"Cancer’s orders were clear," she continued evenly. "If I ever encountered you, I was to disengage."

Her head tilted a fraction, porcelain reflecting the light.

Ryn’s eyes narrowed.

"Besides," she added, almost casually, "we already have enough."

He looked at the mines, at the dwarves who stood frozen while the exchange went on.

They have enough manalite? Ryn thought, For what?

I can’t let her leave.

Ryn shifted his stance, Snow angling forward, Aquila flaring brighter as Essence surged through his legs.

"You would interfere," she said, "Even knowing you cannot afford the cost."

Ryn’s grip tightened until frost crept along the blade’s edge.

"Then I’ll pay it."

He moved.

The distance collapsed in a heartbeat, crystal shattering beneath his boots as he forced the fight back into existence.

Behind the mask, the Administrator exhaled once.

"So be it."

The daggers came up.

Ryn twisted his body, angling lower for a follow-up attack on the Admin’s side.

But she was already gone.

His eyes flicked around before he barely managed to see Aquila’s path of light by the very edge of his vision.

Ryn twisted instinctively, boots skidding across crystal as a dagger slid past his ribs, barely managing to cut through his clothes and nick him.

He felt it immediately and looked down at the wound.

A cold numbness spread from the cut, crawling along his veins, biting into his Essence like frost creeping through glass.

[Poison Resistance Activated: Poison will be nullified.]

The cold veins retracted instantly, dwindling until it disappeared entirely.

The Administrator landed lightly several paces away, daggers raised.

"...Interesting," she said.

Her head tilted.

"That was supposed to paralyze you within seconds."

Ryn exhaled through his teeth, rolling his shoulder as blood beaded along the shallow cut.

"Cancer was right," she continued calmly. "You are different."

He ignored the comment.

Ryn slid back half a step, Snow lowering as his eyes tracked the Administrator’s movement.

Chasing her would be pointless. That was exactly the game she wanted him to play.

He exhaled slowly.

Then don’t chase.

Snow pulsed in his grip.

The blade shuddered once, frost crawling backward along the metal as its form unraveled. Steel flowed like liquid, reshaping mid-air before slamming into the crystal floor with a heavy, reverberating thud.

A massive white tiger emerged from the frost.

Its breath steamed in the air, claws carving grooves into the cold stone as it lifted its head and fixed its gaze on the Administrator.

The Administrator’s head snapped toward it.

"...A Pact Armament?" she said, voice tight. "That’s impossible. You don’t have a Taming Blessing."

Snow lunged straight at her.

The Administrator vanished, slipping past the strike by a razor-thin margin.

She reappeared a split second later—only to find Ryn already there, blade of condensed frost forming in his hand as Aquila guided the strike.

The Administrator barely managed to turn, crossing both daggers in time to block.

But Ryn had never intended to cut her.

"Frost Bloom."

Cold radiated outward from his blade, traveling down the sword’s edge and into her dagger. Crystals formed, freezing up the metal and turning it brittle.

With one more push, Ryn drove the sword down. The daggers shattered. His blade carved through, biting deep as blood splashed across the crystal floor.

The Administrator vanished again, reappearing near the cavern wall, breath unsteady, one hand pressed tight against her side as dark blood seeped between her fingers.

She staggered back another step.

Ryn felt it immediately, the moment she stopped thinking about winning and started thinking about leaving.

Snow prowled to his flank, cutting off the most direct escape route.

"You’ve made your point," she said evenly

The Admin slammed her hand on the ground, Essence compressed hard enough that the air itself seemed to pressurize.

Ryn dropped to a knee, plunge his sword to the ground, trying to withstand the pure pressure being emitted.

A spell, he realized. Shit! She’s trying to escape!

"SNOW!" he yelled.

The tiger lunged, but it was too late.

Space folded in on itself with a sharp, blinding light. But through the corner of his eye, Ryn caught the detail, just barely.

The pressure cracked outward—and with it, her porcelain mask.

Just a thin fracture, but it was enough.

Pale skin showed underneath the broken edge, way too light to match any dwarf or human, or even beastmen.

Yet the defining feature was one Ryn had seen a few times before.

Long tapered ears that pointed outward, an unmistakable trait that was hardly missed.

The pressure finally eased as Ryn dropped on both knees now, breathing heavily.

His eyes flicked up to where she once was, but the Admin was gone.

Ryn pulled himself up with the help of his blade, just as Snow brought itself back around him, nudging at his leg.

"...An elf," he murmured. "What was she doing here?"

So even Yggdrasil isn’t clean.

He exhaled once.

"They really do reach everywhere."

Ryn shook his head.

There was no point looking that far ahead when the current problem hadn’t been dealt with yet.

Ryn looked around at the cavern. Most of the dwarves had fled while they’d been fighting.

He sighed and made his way back to the entrance.

Ryn reached the mouth of the cavern to raised voices.

Gordon was there, along with the remaining dwarves. They looked worse up close. Bruised and tired, clothes stiff with dried sweat and stone dust.

The first dwarf was on his knees.

Rope bit into his wrists, pulled tight behind his back. Gordon stood over him, jaw set, one hand clenched so hard it trembled.

"He tried to run," Gordon said without turning. "Yelled for help."

Ryn’s eyes flicked to the dwarf.

The man flinched.

For a moment, Ryn said nothing. The air around him was still cold, Snow resting at his side like a silent judge.

"...We’ll deal with that later," Ryn said finally.

Ryn turned his attention to the others.

"How long," he asked, "has she been here?"

One of the older dwarves swallowed. "Weeks," he said hoarsely. "Maybe longer. Hard to tell. We weren’t... allowed much rest."

Another spoke up, voice rough. "She didn’t stay with us. Had her own space. Deeper in."

"A room," a third added quickly. "No one was allowed near it unless summoned."

Ryn’s eyes sharpened.

"Show me."