The darkness in the room was a living thing—thick as tar, pressing down, suffocating and cold. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then a surge of instinctual dread swept through Yume. Behind him, a shape burst into being:
Rika's form flickered between silver and shadow, her presence pulsing with raw, untamed curse energy. The air around her shimmered, the very fabric of reality bending as she unleashed her power. Curse energy crackled, a low hum vibrating in their bones and a high-pitched whine scraping at their nerves. Tiny sparks skittered along the scorched salt circle, the line sizzling with acrid smoke.
Yume's Pandora Orbs spun faster, their hum growing louder as they expanded into a shimmering, violet-tinged barrier. The air inside the barrier grew thick, the magic forming an impenetrable shield against the curse's assault. Shadows rippled across its surface, amplifying its strength as Yume poured more power into it. The gun swords materialized with a metallic whisper and a decisive click, their edges wreathed in darkness magic.
The veiled bride's spirit recoiled, her form flickering in every mirror, her hollow eyes wide with fear. With a bone-chilling screech, she dissolved into the glass, her image fracturing into countless reflections before vanishing, leaving the room shivering and silent.
The darkness didn't vanish all at once; it peeled back like scorched skin in slow, shivering waves. Elara's breath came in short, ragged bursts, her knuckles white on the arms of her wheelchair. Levy knelt beside her, voice trembling as she whispered comfort. Across the room, Cana's hands hovered protectively over her tarot deck, eyes darting to every shadow. Yume stood by the cracked window, hat low, scanning the gloom for any sign the veiled spirit lingered. The salt circle was scorched, lanterns guttered, and the air stank of burnt lilies and fear—a cloying, sickly sweet aroma mixed with the metallic tang of adrenaline.
For a moment, no one spoke. Rika lingered behind Yume, her presence still radiating protective energy, silent and watchful. It was only now, in the aftermath, that Levy and Cana truly noticed her.
Levy's eyes widened, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yume… who—what is that?"
Cana swallowed, never taking her eyes off Rika. "She's with you? I've never seen her before."
Elara, still trembling, stared up at the silent apparition, awe and fear mingling in her gaze.
Yume let out a slow breath, lowering his swords as the barrier faded. "This is Rika. She's… my oldest shikigami. She doesn't talk, but she protects me—and those I care about." He glanced back at Rika, who hovered quietly, her gaze fixed on the mirrors as if daring the spirit to return.
Levy managed a shaky smile. "Well… remind me not to get on her bad side."
Cana let out a nervous laugh, the tension easing just a little. "No kidding. She nearly scared that ghost out of existence."
Rika gave no response, but her energy slowly ebbed, the oppressive weight in the room lifting as she faded back into the shadows behind Yume.
For a moment, all was still. Then Yume's calm voice cut through the silence: "We need answers. This curse won't wait for us to recover."
***
Elara, though wide-eyed with fear, was still just a child. As the hours dragged on, her exhaustion began to win over terror. Her small frame finally went limp against Levy's shoulder, her breathing evening out. The faint tracks of tears on her cheeks were the only testament to the terror that had claimed her hours before.
Levy's eyelids felt gritty, each blink a monumental effort, while Cana's head lolled, her grip on her cards growing lax. Yume watched them, his own fatigue masked by a mask of calm.
"You can sleep," Yume said softly. "I'll keep watch."
Levy and Cana both shook their heads, determined not to burden him. "We're staying up," Levy insisted, her voice thin with exhaustion. "We can't leave you alone with this."
Cana rubbed her temples. "Yeah, what kind of friends would we be if we just slept through another attack?"
Yume studied them, then gave a small, rare smile—a brief, steadying anchor in the turbulent night. "We've got a lot of work tomorrow. You need to rest first—you can't do it if you collapse in the morning."
Levy hesitated. "What about you?"
Yume's expression was calm and confident. He gave a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. "I can handle myself. I don't need much sleep."
Yeah, Batman only needs fifteen minutes of sleep and can stay awake for three days straight. I've inherited that kind of power.
Seeing Yume's steady gaze, they finally relented. Levy and Cana settled near Elara, curling up close for warmth and comfort. Within minutes, the room was filled with the soft sounds of sleep—Elara nestled between them, Levy's hand resting protectively on her shoulder, and Cana's cards still clutched loosely in her fingers.
***
Yume stood by the window, the manor's groans and sighs echoing around him. Rika hovered at his back, silent and vigilant.
This is my watch. My responsibility.
His mind drifted to the Batman comics he'd read as a kid, the hero's tireless vigilance.
Fifteen minutes of sleep. Three days awake. I can do this. I have to.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the residual magic from the barrier.
Levy and Cana need rest. Elara needs us all at our best.
His gaze flicked to the sleeping forms of his friends, their faces softened by exhaustion.
I won't let anything happen to them. Not while I'm here.
He shifted his weight, his body aching but his resolve unbroken.
The curse won't win. Not tonight.
The whisper of wind through broken panes, the creak of settling timbers, like the house itself held its breath.
***
Morning, Blackwood Manor~
Dawn crept in, painting the room in pale gold that softened the harsh lines of the scorched salt circle and cast the guttered lanterns in a melancholic glow. The team stirred, not refreshed, but galvanized by purpose, their movements slow and deliberate.
They left Elara to rest, tiptoeing out of the room. As they gathered in the parlor, Elara's parents returned, pale and anxious. Lord Alaric's face was ashen, his hands trembling as he gripped his wife's, but his eyes, red-rimmed, held a profound, unspoken gratitude as he looked at the three guardians.
After explaining the night's events, Yume stood quietly as Lord and Lady Blackwood absorbed the news, their faces pale with horror and gratitude.
They're afraid. I would be too ,yume thought to himself.
He met Lord Alaric's gaze, his voice low but steady. "Elara is strong. She's fighting, and we won't let anything happen to her."
Lady Blackwood's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Thank you," she whispered.
Yume nodded.
I won't fail them. Not again.
With Elara safe under her parents' watch, the team set out into the village.
***
Village Inn~
The inn was a rare sanctuary in Blackridge Hollow, its worn wooden beams and flickering hearth offering a brief escape from the village's oppressive unease. Levy and Cana had claimed a corner table, its surface scarred but sturdy, a quiet refuge where they could catch their breath and regroup.
Yume had finally succumbed to exhaustion, collapsing onto a narrow cot in the inn's attic after keeping watch the entire night before. The strain of the curse, the constant threat of the veiled bride, and the weight of protecting Elara had worn even his stoic resolve to the bone. As he slept, his twin hound shikigami remained on guard, their spectral forms curled protectively at the foot of the stairs, ensuring nothing would disturb him—or his friends—while they rested.
Levy scribbled another frantic note in her journal, detailing a dusty inscription she'd found on a Blackwood family monument in the village square. The sun cast a warm glow through the inn's window, making the ale Cana nursed gleam amber. It was a stolen moment of calm amid the village's unsettling whispers.
Cana watched her, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Still at it, bookworm? You're going to wear that pen down to a nub." She took a long swig, then leaned forward conspiratorially, voice dropping to a stage whisper. "So, when are you going to tell our brooding protector how you really feel?"
Levy's head snapped up, cheeks flushing a furious red. "Cana! What are you talking about?!" She glanced around nervously, darting a quick, paranoid glance around the half-empty inn, as if Yume himself might materialize from the shadows to overhear.
Cana chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "Oh, come on, Lev. It's written all over your face every time he looks your way. The blushes, the soft voice when you mention him…" She winked. "And don't get me started on the heart-eyes when he does something heroic."
"I do not get heart-eyes!" Levy protested, slamming her journal shut. "He's our leader! Our… extremely capable colleague! Professional admiration!"
Cana snorted, stifling laughter. "Sure, 'professional admiration.' Like I have 'professional admiration' for a good barrel of ale." She smiled warmly. "No judgment. He's got that dark-and-mysterious thing going on, and he knows how to protect a damsel in distress. Or a scholar in distress, in your case."
Levy sighed, a faint smile flickering. "He's calm. Strong. Never panics. It's comforting, especially with… everything." She met Cana's gaze. "But seriously, not a word to him."
Cana grinned, raising her ale. "My lips are sealed. For now." She winked. "Besides, we've got bigger fish to fry—like finding out who's helping the ghost bride try to murder us."
Their shared laughter, quiet and genuine, chased away the shadow of the curse for a moment, strengthening their unspoken trust.
***
Investigation Begins~
Villagers eyed them from behind quickly drawn curtains, their whispers sharp and furtive, like stones skittering across ice. Doors clicked shut as they passed.
The villagers' whispers grew louder, like a festering wound. "It's the Blackwoods' curse, bringing outsiders only makes it worse!" one old woman hissed, pulling her child away. Others eyed the team with open suspicion, doors slamming shut just before they could pass.
The air itself seemed to grow heavy with fear and mistrust, a tangible weight that pressed down on the team, amplifying the sense of being hunted, of time running out.
Levy's hands shook as she wrote down her findings. "It's getting worse," she admitted.
Yume looked around. "The curse is feeding off the villagers' fear."
Cana's usual humor was gone, replaced by a grim determination. "We have to stop it before it's too late."
Levy strode purposefully towards the library, her notebook clutched like a shield. Her scholarly curiosity warred with a cold knot of dread in her stomach, but the thirst for answers propelled her forward.
Levy's fingers trembled as she traced the spine of an ancient ledger, her scholar's heart racing with both excitement and dread.
This is it. The answer is here, somewhere. But what if it's worse than we imagined?
Her mind flashed back to her first real academic breakthrough—a dusty library in Magnolia, the thrill of discovery, the praise from her mentors.
That felt like a lifetime ago. Now, every page I turn could bring us closer… or doom us all.
She inhaled sharply, the scent of old parchment and damp wood filling her lungs.
I have to be brave. For Elara. For everyone.
Her pen hovered over her notebook, ink pooling as her hand shook.
What if I miss something? What if I'm not good enough?
She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to focus.
No. I won't let fear win. Not today.
***
Cana sauntered toward the market, her usual boisterousness muted, her tarot cards a comforting weight against her thigh. The morning was cold, the sky a dull gray, and the villagers moved in hushed clusters, their eyes darting to her and away.
They're scared. Scared of us. Scared of the curse. Scared of each other.
She forced a laugh, the sound brittle against the chill. It was a habit, a way to keep the darkness at bay. The market stalls were half-empty, the vendors' voices low and wary. Cana's fingers brushed her deck, the familiar edges grounding her.
What are you hiding? Who are you protecting?
She thought of the rumors swirling through the village—of the veiled bride, of the curse that never lifted. The air felt heavy, like a storm about to break. Cana's pulse quickened, but she kept her expression light, her shoulders loose.
She stopped at a stall selling dried herbs, her gaze drifting to the reflection in a shop window. For a moment, she imagined she saw a flicker of movement—a shadow, a shape. Her breath caught.
Just my imagination. Right?
Cana drew a card—the Star—and let its hope warm her palm. The light pushed back the unease, if only for a moment.
She squared her shoulders and moved on, her laughter a little louder, a little braver, a shield against the fear that clung to the village like morning mist.
***
Yume moved like a shadow on the outskirts, his senses extended like invisible tendrils, sifting through the morning air not just for magic, but for the subtle shifts in atmosphere, the lingering echoes of fear.
The village is uneasy. The curse is in the air, thick as fog. Every glance, every whisper—someone knows more than they're saying.
He paused beside an ancient oak, its roots gnarled and exposed, and closed his eyes. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and burnt lilies. Somewhere, a child laughed, the sound too bright for the morning's tension.
they're hiding. But everyone hides something. I just have to listen.
Yume's hand rested on the hilt of Pandora gun sword, ready to draw at the first sign of threat. He felt Rika's presence at his back, a silent promise of protection. The twin hounds—his shikigami—were out there, too, watching, waiting.
We're being watched. But we're watching back.
He exhaled slowly, his breath misting in the cool air. The game was chess, not checkers, and every move mattered. For Elara. For the team. He wouldn't let them down.
A chill wind, not of this world, swept through the market, carrying with it the faint, sickly sweet scent of decay and burnt lilies. The veiled bride's reflection appeared in the inn window, her hollow eyes, like twin abysses, locking onto them. Levy's breath hitched, Cana gasped, and even Yume's posture stiffened infinitesimally.
The vision didn't just vanish; it fractured into a thousand shimmering shards that winked out of existence, leaving behind an oppressive, watchful silence.
End of Chapter 15