The Sorcerer's Handbook

The corridor offered no escape, and the Black Knight was steadily closing in.

Lys was entirely helpless. Ignoring the risk of being discovered, she hurriedly pulled out her small mirror and initiated a frantic, telepathic connection with her sisters. She whispered, "I'm sorry... I messed up."

White Queen's voice came through, calm and reassuring. "It's alright. The enemy already believes you are Princess Lysdia. It's only a matter of time before they try to confirm your identity. You've done very well."

"But what do we do now?" Lys hissed back, panic bleeding into her words. "I'm about to be captured!"

A heavy silence hung over the mirror before the White Queen spoke again, "Lys... do you resent us for keeping secrets from you?"

"What do you mean?"

Secret Princess cut in. "Do you hate us for hiding the fact that you're a spirit?"

Lys tilted her head, bewildered. "A little, I guess. But it doesn't matter what I am. I'm still your favorite little sister, right?"

White Queen said softly, "Of course you are, as long as you don't push my buttons."

Red Death Apostle added, "And as long as we're around, you'll never need to know that you are a spirit, Lys."

Perceptive as always, Lys caught the underlying tone. "Sister Red, what is that supposed to mean? Won't you always be here?"

Red Death Apostle didn't answer her directly. Instead, her voice took on the weight of a final farewell. "Lys, listen to White more often. Black, stop bottling up your worries. White, don't try to carry the world on your shoulders; learn to trust others. And Secret Princess... stay strong."

Lys cried out. "Sister Red, what are you talking about?!"

The long-silent Black Butler suddenly spoke up, "Let me do it, Red. You're more valuable than I am."

Red Death Apostle countered, "No, Black. You're more valuable. I have nothing left to offer in the Virtual World. I was born for the battlefield. Now that Secret Princess can fight on her own and has allies she can rely on, my continued presence would only complicate things."

"That's definitely not the case!" Secret Princess protested, her voice cracking. "Sister Red, you're our sister, not some disposable mercenary! You could never be a burden to me!"

Lys almost crushed the mirror in frustration. "What are you all even talking about?! I don't understand any of this!"

White Queen's voice dropped to a low, somber tone. "The Bronze Dragon's trial erased our memories of the real world and sealed away our real-world sorcery. That's why Annan never suspected us. Without sorcery, we are powerless in reality. We have to rely entirely on others for protection. But there is an exception. If a spirit acts independently, it doesn't require sorcery to manifest its power."

A terrible realization dawned on Lys, but she desperately clung to hope. "So... Sister Red, you're going to beat up this bad guy and then come back to us, right?"

Red Death Apostle shook her head. "I won't be coming back, Lys."

"Why?!"

"Lys, do you know what kind of spirits we actually are?"

"Big sister spirits? Little sister spirits? Cute spirits?" Lys pleaded, trying to deflect the dread settling in her chest.

Red Death Apostle explained, "No. We are all derivative spirits born from the Mask spirit. I am the Red Death Apostle mask, she is the White Queen mask, and you are the Little Witch mask. When we use them on ourselves, we can switch forms freely or even inhabit them permanently. But to use them on someone else, I have to enter their soul to bind the Red Death Apostle mask to them."

Lys gasped. "So... Sister Red, you're going to possess him? Take over his body?"

Red Death Apostle replied softly, "No. A mask is just a mask."

"Then what happens to her?"

"It's simple. When she tries to tear the mask off, it will take her face with it. I will merge with his soul, scramble her memories, and shatter her very worldview. By the time she finally manages to strip my mask away, she won't even remember who she is."

A chilling dread washed over Lys. "And... what happens to you, Sister Red?"

Red Death Apostle said with brutal honesty, "The only way to forcibly remove a bound mask is to destroy the spirit within it."

Black Butler's voice cut through her panic, cold and hollow. "We've been running from the white mist for so long, hiding in the shadows for so long. Who is actually out there to save us?"

Lys screamed, "No! No! I won't let you die! We... we can ask for help! Daddy, Annan, Aunt Perskin, Uncle Harvey, Sister Quinna! They'll save us! Sister Red, you don't have to do this!"

The reflections in the mirror froze.

"They will save Annan, they will save Pankey, they will save Ashe and Iger, and maybe even Harvey, but no one is coming for us. Annan and Pankey are master and servant; Ashe and the others are cherished companions. But us? We’re just expendable.

"Normally, that wouldn't matter. But when danger strikes, the true weight of a life is laid bare. Besides... even if they wanted to, they couldn't save us from this. That Black Knight already stated he is a member of the Secret Guard. Dia, surely you remember that name?"

Secret Princess nodded slowly, her expression grim. "I heard it in bedtime stories. The Secret Guard is the imperial family's hidden blade, the enforcers of Isa. They can freely siphon the imperial Gospel Points and command forbidden Miracles. To face a member of the Secret Guard is to face a Legendary sorcerer."

Black Butler spoke softly, "If I'm not mistaken, she was the one responsible for dispersing the white mist over Vanmura using her Gospel Points. She wasn't even trying just now. She was merely chasing Lys around, playing with her. Even if someone came to rescue us, who could stand against a Legendary sorcerer head-on? And who would dare offend the Secret Guard of the Isa imperial family?"

"Does that mean Sister Red has to die?" Lys cried out. "I won't let her!"

Black Butler suggested, "So... perhaps we should just go back... If we surrender, Red won't have to sacrifice herself. If we go back, we won't have to keep running. White, Red, Lys, Dia..."

Her voice faltered at the end, thick with pleading.

Secret Princess did not answer.

"Absolutely not," Red Death Apostle said decisively, cutting off the suggestion. "The Witch doesn't need Red Death Apostle, Black Butler, White Queen, Secret Princess, or Little Witch. She needs Lysdia herself. Even if we obediently returned to the Tower, the Witch would purge all of us. She won't tolerate our existence when it prevents the real Lysdia from donning her holy armor. If we go back, everyone dies. No exceptions. One death versus five deaths. This is basic math, even I can do it, Black."

"But it might not stop at just one death!" Black Butler shouted. "If Red must die this time because we encountered the Secret Guard, who dies the second time? Me? How about the third? The fourth? Must this continue until only Dia is left alive?"

"Black..." White Queen warned softly.

Black Butler pleaded, "There are still three months until the Woven Festival ends. If we behave, the Witch might let us live for those three months. Dia, are you really going to watch everyone die one by one? Can't you just let us live out these three months properly? Do you even know what Red likes to eat? Do you know where Red wants to go? Do you know that Red actually enjoys listening to music?"

Still, Secret Princess remained silent.

Red Death Apostle said, "Stop embarrassing yourself, Black. Don't make it sound like I'm a coward clinging to life. I am Red Death Apostle. That's the name I gave myself. Lys, without the support of the other spirits, I can only act through touch. You just need to touch the Secret Guard with your hand."

Lys instinctively drew her hand back, trying to hide it. "No!"

"Stop being so stubborn. You're already an adult."

"I am not an adult! I'm Little Witch! And this is no different from killing you with my own hands! Absolutely not!"

"Dia!" Black Butler's scream almost shattered the glass of the mirror before breaking into a sobbing plea. "I beg you..."

"Black, don't. The one suffering the most here isn't you. It's Dia," White Queen said.

Secret Princess still didn't respond.

Even the fastest telepathic communication took time, and the Black Knight had already reached the end of the corridor. Lys's substitute spread its arms, blocking the path in a desperate attempt to repay her for saving its life moments ago.

"No..."

Pop.

With a casual wave of the Black Knight's hand, the protective bubble burst. Lys lifted her head, forced to face the cruel nightmare up close.

"Lys, look at me."

Lys instinctively glanced at the mirror as her mask was stripped away.

Black Butler shouted, "Dia!"

White Queen whispered, "Dia..."

Little Witch cried, "Sister Dia!"

Their shouts were instantly cut short.

Drip... drip...

Tears poured from her eyes as if her tear ducts were working harder than they ever had since birth. She bit her lip fiercely, thick droplets of tears mixing with sticky blood as they splattered across the mirror. The stain formed a fresh layer that hid her sisters' faces, reflecting only a girl who could no longer stop crying.

"Dia, you are the strongest among us," Red Death Apostle's final words echoed. "From now on, it's on you."

Secret Princess roughly wiped her eyes, lifted her head, and saw the Black Knight's outstretched hand. Forcing down the nausea rising in her stomach, she reached toward it...

Buzz!

Just then, a piercing shriek suddenly rang out from the ceiling, shocking Dia so intensely that her mind went blank. Caught completely off guard, the Black Knight hesitated.

In that exact fraction of a second, a barrier of inverted swords sprouted from the ceiling above the Black Knight, slicing a massive section of the stonework free before it plummeted downward.

Crash!

Dia stared dumbly as the debris and sword barrier smashed directly onto the Black Knight. Cascading through the rolling dust and falling plaster was a figure in a dark red coat.

Yes, it was her high-quality father.

"Hmm?"

Acting entirely on instinct as he fell, Ashe reached out and firmly grasped the tiny, trembling hand Dia had extended.