Blood sprayed out in torrents like a fountain, instantly staining the gray-white fog a vivid red.
Standing before the fallen fat woman was a small, frail child whose gender was impossible to tell.
It had messy white hair and held a black dagger still dripping with blood.
Those hollow, lifeless blue eyes stared straight ahead.
And in that dirty little hand, it was tightly clutching a… still faintly beating heart.
It had just ripped it out of that woman's chest.
Warm. Fresh. Alive.
"..."
Ur had arrived just in time to witness the suffocating scene.
That clean, ruthless method. That empty gaze that treated life like dirt.
Clearly, this was most likely the so-called killer Shane had been talking about.
And yet what rose in Ur's heart was not the joy of finding the target, but a strange mix of anger and sorrow.
"Why…"
Ur clenched her fists and looked at the child—who was even younger than her daughter—her voice trembling slightly.
"Why can you take a life so decisively? No matter how terrible that woman was, someone like you—a child like you—shouldn't be the one to…"
But the figure before her gave no response.
Whoosh—
The surrounding fog suddenly stirred in a strange way.
So fast!
Before Ur could react, the tiny figure had already appeared right in front of her like a ghost.
"So… you're not ordinary after all."
Ur's gaze sharpened. A crystal-clear ice flower quickly formed in her palm, the surrounding temperature plummeting as frost spread across the ground.
The killer, however, paid it no mind.
She didn't attack.
She simply tilted up that filthy little face and stared straight at Ur with those hollow blue eyes, a heartbreaking trace of hope on her face.
"Mommy…"
"Are you… Mommy?"
"..."
Looking into those eyes flickering with longing, Ur froze.
So this thing was that attached to the word mother?
Was that its obsession?
Judging from what had just happened with the woman who'd been killed, the smartest move for a mage would have been obvious: follow along with its words. Even if it meant lying, it would greatly lower the target's guard.
That was the rational choice.
But…
"Haa…"
Ur took a deep breath. The ice flower in her hand didn't fade—instead, it froze into something even harder.
"I don't have children who kill casually."
"And I hate children like you… children who treat life as if it means nothing."
She lifted her head and looked directly into those eyes, her voice utterly serious.
"I have the best daughter in the world. Her name is Ultear."
"So…"
Ur declared each word clearly,
"So… I am not your mother."
Even knowing that answer would anger it, Ur still spoke from the heart.
That was her line as a mother.
"..."
Hearing that, the faint light in the killer's blue eyes slowly dimmed, little by little, until all that remained were two tiny dead points.
She opened her mouth soundlessly, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.
A child who had never been loved.
A child that should have been abandoned to darkness, a child that should never have been born.
No one longed more desperately for intense love than she did.
And yet she had never truly known that warmth.
Squish.
She lowered her head and squeezed the heart in her hand.
Warmth spread against her palm, carrying that incredible thing called life.
"So warm…"
But in the cold London night, with the bitter wind blowing through the streets, that warmth was doomed not to last.
Only a few seconds later, the heart began to cool, turning cold and stiff.
"The warmth… is gone."
The killer murmured to herself, then looked up at the short-haired woman in front of her—the woman who gave off a different kind of warmth.
"Mommy…"
Her figure swayed again, then vanished from the spot like a wisp of blue smoke.
If no one is willing to share even a little warmth with me… then if I take it for myself… that should be allowed too, right?
A flash of cold light sliced through the fog.
That was the simple thought in the killer's mind.
…
At the same time—
Shane was streaking across the sky like a beam of light.
That strangely familiar dragon magic filled the entire city, from the rooftops to the ground below, as if it were everywhere.
But in his senses, four sources stood out as especially dense.
"The nearest one is… outside London?"
Shane abruptly changed direction, crossing several kilometers in an instant as he shot toward the outskirts.
But when he arrived at that point, all he found was an empty stretch of wilderness—everything was so normal it felt unnatural.
"A concealed barrier?"
Shane narrowed his eyes. By instinct alone, he could tell there was something hidden in that area, masked by some kind of method.
Unfortunately, everyone knew that subtle, delicate magic had never been his strong suit. Even now, despite possessing Lancer's ridiculous mana, that remained true.
"Tch. Annoying."
After a moment's thought, Shane still chose not to blast it apart with brute force.
Instead, he spread his dragon wings again and rushed to the other three locations—but the result was the same every time. Nothing.
Just as frustration started to build and he was on the verge of giving up restraint and simply releasing his Noble Phantasm to blow one location apart and force something out—
"Hm?"
A chill suddenly ran down his back.
Something… was watching him.
The sensation was crystal clear, like a pair of eyes were staring straight through layers of space and locking onto his every move.
Shane whipped around—and instead of alarm, delight flashed across his face.
"So you finally couldn't help showing yourself?"
"Over there… Charing Cross?"
Without hesitating, he changed direction and chased the source of that gaze at full speed.
He had enough confidence in his current strength. Even inside the illusion, even if he couldn't win, escaping alive would be more than easy enough.
What he had feared was the opposite—an enemy that stayed hidden and never moved.
Charing Cross.
Located in central London, it was England's most famous bookshop street, the hub connecting Trafalgar Square and Leicester Square.
The moment he landed—
Boom—!!
A deafening explosion erupted.
Flames shot into the sky, shattering the display windows of nearby bookstores. Countless sheets of paper flew through the air like butterflies.
Shane's expression brightened at first, thinking the person observing him must already be fighting someone.
But when he focused properly, disappointment hit him instantly.
There, in the middle of the street, stood Laxus wrapped in golden lightning, his face cold, the stone road beneath him completely shattered.
And opposite him—
two battered figures were dragging themselves out of the rubble.
"Cough… cough… damn it, that hurt!"
Natsu shook his head, covered in dust and ash, his flames noticeably dimmer.
"Damn… when did that guy's lightning get this strong?"
Gray clutched his chest, dark scorch marks still visible on him. It was obvious he had suffered badly from that last blow.
Seeing this, Shane was full of question marks.
Why were Natsu, Gray, and Laxus fighting?
Wasn't Natsu supposed to be Laxus's assistant?
But there was no time to worry about those idiots fighting among themselves.
Ignoring the chaos below, Shane spread his senses out fully and focused on finding the gaze that had just been following him.
It didn't take long before he noticed something wrong.
"This is strange…"
Shane looked around, his brows drawing tighter and tighter.
"Why… is there no one here?"
With the level of destruction those three had just caused, there should have been night patrols swarming the place already—maybe even the military.
This was central London, the so-called "heart of the world."
How could it be this quiet, like a dead city?
And then, the moment that thought occurred to him—
the atmosphere changed.
It was like a loose thread had suddenly been yanked taut by an invisible hand.
"What sort of backwater magi are you?"
A cold, arrogant voice rang out abruptly across the empty street.
"To use magecraft this brazenly right under the eyes of the Clock Tower, openly violating the First Principle…"
"This level of barbarism is nearly on par with those filthy Dead Apostles."
As the voice fell—
figures in gentlemen's clothing and top hats quietly emerged from the shadows all around them.
There were more than a dozen of them.
They spread out in a loose encirclement, subtly surrounding the three who had been fighting—along with Shane in the air.
"Eh?"
Natsu, Gray, and Laxus all noticed the shift in atmosphere and stopped immediately, staring warily at the newcomers.
"Who are you people?"
Natsu asked blankly.
"Are you friends of Shane's?"
But none of them paid him any attention.
The gentleman in front simply tapped his cane lightly and gave an order into the air:
"The barrier that obstructs sight and drives away civilians has been fully deployed."
"You may begin."
"Take care of the one in the East End as well."
"Hey! I asked you a question!"
Being ignored made Natsu bristle.
"This is during the exam, you know. If suspicious people won't identify themselves…"
Laxus narrowed his eyes, lightning already crackling around him.
"…then I'm not going to hold back."
Still, no one answered.
There wasn't any obvious contempt in their faces, but that naturally superior arrogance they radiated was infuriating.
"They're not mine."
Shane dropped down from the sky and landed between the three of them.
The moment these mysterious people appeared, the gaze that had been watching him disappeared too.
Clearly, these were the real players.
"So they're enemies?"
Gray spat to one side, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth—the blood Laxus had just put there—and his eyes turned vicious.
"Probably."
Shane himself wasn't completely sure who these people were.
Clock Tower? First Principle? Dead Apostles?
Those terms all sounded completely unfamiliar. Since when did old London have stuff like that?
Bzzz—
Right as they were talking, the black-clad figures surrounding them suddenly distorted without warning, like shadows peeling away, and drifted off into the distance.
"Don't think you're getting away!!"
"You still haven't answered me!!"
Natsu was the first to lose patience. With a roar, he took off after them.
"After them!"
"We'll sort it out when we catch up."
The others didn't overthink it and gave chase immediately.
The group in front kept just enough distance—neither fighting back nor accelerating, as if they were deliberately leading them somewhere.
Very soon, the sound of fighting reached their ears.
"They're drawing us toward the West End?"
Laxus asked in a low voice while running.
"Yeah. Over there—?"
As the distance closed and the outlines of a battle emerged through the fog ahead, Shane's eyes sharpened.
"Ur?"
Through the fog in front of them, shadows were flashing back and forth.
Ur's normally neat short hair was in disarray now, and there were multiple bloodstains on her body, leaving her looking surprisingly battered.
~~~
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