Hugo, who had endured relentless nagging throughout the holiday from the vassals during the meeting about compensation claims for the Imperial Capital’s facilities, returned to work at the Council after what could hardly be called a break.
Concerned about leaving that guy alone at the Council in his absence, he left the mansion earlier than usual and arrived in the courtyard, which remained mostly empty due to the early hour.
Just as he was heading straight to the Commander’s office, he suddenly felt a deep tremor from afar and rubbed his forehead, already exhausted despite the morning still being young. The fierce vibrations and surging mana, resonating like an earthquake, left no doubt in his mind who was responsible—even without looking.
Without hesitation, Hugo changed direction and made his way to the Council’s internal hospital. Originally established to treat members injured on missions, the facility also served as a center for mana extraction and precise component analysis.
As far as Hugo knew, Leonardo’s mana component analysis was scheduled for today, and judging by the turbulent energy erupting from that area, there was no mistaking the cause.
It appeared they were attempting to extract Leonardo’s mana—but were running into serious complications.
The hospital was already in chaos when Hugo stepped inside. Medical staff rushed about in a frenzy, and one officer near the entrance spotted Hugo, widened his eyes in alarm, and ran toward him as if salvation had arrived.
“L-Loyalty! Commander, you’d better come quickly!”
“Loyalty. I came to check Leonardo’s condition, but it seems things aren’t going smoothly.”
“He’s resisting too violently—we can’t even get near him.”
At that, Hugo furrowed his brow, unsurprised, and said curtly:
“Lead the way.”
“Please, this way!”
“The vibrations are too strong!”
“Raise the control level!”
“If we raise it any further, we won’t be able to extract the mana!”
Inside the high-risk mana extraction room, located deep within the Council’s hospital, the scene was utter chaos. The medical team, clad in full protective gear, struggled against the storm of volatile mana.
Under the protection of armed members, the team tried repeatedly to restrain Leonardo Blaine and insert the mana extraction needle into his arm.
But every time they brought the needle close, he convulsed and released a massive surge of mana that melted the tool on contact, making the procedure impossible.
Patches with similar properties to mana suppression stones were temporarily restraining him, but when control was too strong, it blocked even the necessary flow. When weakened, his mana exploded outward again—rendering them helpless.
Thud—! Thud—!
Leonardo, gagged and bound tightly, twisted his body and glared with feral eyes at anyone who approached. Veins bulged on his neck and forehead. Whenever he thrashed, the custom-made restraining bed and surrounding equipment violently rattled.
Hugo and the officer quickly approached the extraction room. The closer they got, the more intense the vibrations became. Even from outside, the chaos was palpable.
Guided to the scene, they found armed members posted at the door. Inside, Leonardo writhed with wild power that no one could suppress.
“Where is he getting that kind of strength...”
Hugo muttered in disbelief as he stepped inside. Instantly, Leonardo—who had been thrashing—sensed Hugo’s mana. His bloodshot, murderous gaze turned directly toward him. The armed members, recognizing their Commander, stepped aside and saluted.
Hugo stood before the bound figure and looked down at him, panting heavily on the bed.
“Stay still, Leonardo. Before I knock you out myself.”
At those words, Leonardo flailed even harder in protest. The violent motion shook the bed and sent medical equipment clattering. The medical staff scrambled to hold onto the expensive tools, barely preventing damage.
Hugo’s brows furrowed in growing irritation. The more the boy resisted, the more force would be required to control him—yet he showed no sign of stopping.
Unfastening his sleeve and rolling it up, Hugo condensed frigid energy in his right hand and stared down at Leonardo with ice in his gaze.
“Looks like I’ve been too polite with you.”
Without hesitation, Hugo’s large hand clamped down on Leonardo’s face and pressed hard. The force bent his neck back sharply, and a loud crack echoed through the room.
Bang—!
The cushioned headrest of the bed collapsed under the impact, and the metal supports underneath visibly bent. Leonardo went limp from the sudden blow, unconscious—or at least stunned. Hugo turned to the staff beside him.
“Proceed with extraction. Now.”
“Y-Y-Yes, sir!”
Shaken by the Commander’s ruthlessness, the staff scrambled to bring the extraction needle to Leonardo’s arm.
But Leonardo, who regained consciousness almost ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) immediately, began convulsing again, heat pouring from his body. Hugo climbed onto the bed, pinning him down and pressing hard on his head to immobilize him completely.
Frigid energy flooded from Hugo’s body, clashing violently with the heat. A dense steam cloud rose as opposing forces collided and filled the air between them.
“Mmm, mmph!”
Even gagged, Leonardo groaned as if screaming. Hugo bore down with unrelenting force. Through the fingers gripping the boy’s face, his trembling golden eyes came into view.
Eyes filled with fury—but underneath, something else flickered.
Fear?
Crash!
Before the thought could fully register, Leonardo’s mana erupted again, shattering every glass panel around the extraction room.
Shards rained down outside. Screams rang out. The medical team staggered from the force, still holding the needle. Hugo barked sharply:
“Keep going!”
“U-Understood! Yes!”
Using the narrow window when Hugo’s cold energy dulled the heat, the staff drove the needle into Leonardo’s arm. A violent tremble ran through him as his gaze snapped to the needle.
As it slid deeper into his skin, his entire body shook harder. Hugo released an even colder wave of energy and warned:
“If that needle melts inside you, it’ll be your problem. Stay still.”
Mana began to flow through the hose, and the gauge on the extraction device ticked steadily upward.
Whether he understood Hugo’s words—or simply ran out of strength—was unclear, but Leonardo suddenly stilled, tightly shutting his eyes.
Hugo could feel the faint flutter of his eyelashes beneath his fingers. The boy occasionally twitched, then slowly slumped into a powerless state, all energy seemingly drained.
Taking that as a sign of compliance, Hugo cautiously lifted his hand. But no sooner had he done so than Leonardo’s eyes flew open again, and he tried to lurch upright.
Hugo slammed him back down without hesitation. Their eyes locked again, wild and sharp.
Tension hung in the air between their uneven breaths—one staring up with unyielding fury, the other down with icy resolve.
Then one of the medical staff called out:
“Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred! It’s done!”
“I’m removing the needle!”
Another medical staff member on standby swiftly withdrew the needle and dabbed Leonardo’s arm with a disinfectant cotton swab. At that moment, his breathing quickened dramatically. As his chest rose and fell in sharp, irregular bursts and the beeping of the vital monitor accelerated, Hugo eased the pressure he’d been applying and slowly released the hand gripping Leonardo’s head.
“Measurement complete. Commander, thank you so much for your assistance.”
Hearing the staff’s words of gratitude, Hugo stepped off the bed. Leonardo’s eyes remained closed as he panted heavily, his brows tightly furrowed. Noticing his condition and the rapid vital signs, Hugo asked the medical team,
“Is this guy alright?”
“His pulse has spiked from exertion, but it’s not at a critical level. He’s stable.”
“I see. Good work, everyone.”
As the staff moved quickly to clean and reorganize the room, Hugo let out a slow sigh. He’d done what was needed. Still, just as he turned to leave, something made him glance back at Leonardo one more time.
The guy’s face had gone ghostly pale, his already fair skin washed out to an almost sickly white. The sight made it hard for Hugo to simply walk away.
Wearing a conflicted expression, he carefully reached down and undid the gag around Leonardo’s mouth. A string of saliva followed as Leonardo coughed violently, as if exhaling all the breath he’d been holding.
Without a word, Hugo pulled a handkerchief from his inner pocket and wiped the sweat from Leonardo’s forehead and his damp lips, muttering,
“Your mana’s been drained, so you’ll be weak for a while. They’ll probably move you to a cell just in case you lose it again—but it’ll be better than being strapped down like this. Rest. Eat something.”
At that, Leonardo cracked open his eyes with effort, glared at Hugo, and hissed in a voice laced with hatred:
“I’ll kill you.”
Though long used to such murderous remarks from him, Hugo merely sighed and answered plainly,
“Sure. But if you’re going to kill me, regain your strength first.”
Leonardo’s face twisted in fury at that calm reply. Taking that look as his parting image, Hugo turned on his heel and left the extraction room.
Out in the hallway, hospital staff were sweeping up the last of the shattered glass, busy in a different kind of frenzy now. Hugo called over a senior armed officer assisting with the cleanup and gave quiet instructions:
“Let him rest for a bit. Once the battalion-level staff arrive from each unit, have at least two of them escort him to the prison. No ankle shackles—and make sure he’s fed properly.”
“Yes, sir. Understood!”
With that confirmation, Hugo gave a brief nod and left the hospital. By now, considerable time had passed, and the area outside was already bustling with members arriving for work.
Even as he returned to his original destination—the Commander’s office—he couldn’t shake the lingering image of that pale face from his mind.
Is he afraid of sharp objects? No... if that were the case, he wouldn’t be able to fight with a sword.
Yet those eyes—those frightened eyes—wouldn’t leave him alone.
****
Now relocated to a prison cell, Leonardo sat with his back against the wall, one knee raised and an arm draped loosely over it. He stared blankly at the untouched meal tray in front of him.
The food was far better than what typical inmates received, but Leonardo couldn’t even register it. His stomach twisted, and his head throbbed, nausea bubbling up like it might erupt at any moment.
“Hey, what’d you get thrown in here for?”
“Ugh, why are you still talking to someone who won’t talk back?”
“Because he’s hot. Come on, with that face, you’d talk to him too, wouldn’t you?”
His cell sat at the far end, front-facing an empty corridor, with a dead-end wall to the right. The setup was decent for a prison cell—but the ceaseless chatter was another story. Giggles and voices leaked constantly from the cell directly to his left, separated by a wall, and from the one across the hall.
Unlike Leonardo—who was bound with handcuffs connected to chains anchored into the wall—the inmate in the diagonal-left cell seemed to enjoy relative freedom, free of restraints. That man crouched in front of the bars, shamelessly staring at Leonardo from across the corridor, even inching closer with a leering grin.
Leonardo ignored him, turning his head back and exhaling slowly. He tried to stay still, focused on recovering, but his trembling lashes gave away the nausea he couldn’t suppress. Eventually, he bolted upright.
Though the air wasn’t thin, a crushing wave of anxiety surged in as if the room were closing in on him. His breaths came fast—hyperventilation.
He staggered over to the small head-level window set into the wall and pressed his face against it, gulping air like he was drowning. With every ragged breath, the panic slowly subsided.
Through the narrow glass slit, all he could see was another wall—bare stone and a few window slots like his own. Sunlight beamed down from above, but since he’d been blindfolded during the transfer, he had no idea where this prison was located.
As he gripped the bars and stared out, a small white butterfly suddenly fluttered into view, dancing in the sunlight. Its gentle arc across the gray stone drew his eyes—simple, bright, out of place.
The butterfly drifted closer and hovered between the iron bars, wings fluttering, then slipped through the narrow space and began circling him.
When Leonardo raised a hand, it landed delicately on his finger as if called. He watched its fragile wings pulse open and shut, lost in the still moment.
Glancing upward, he noticed red lights blinking in all four corners of the ceiling—sensors. Whether they detected sound or movement was unclear.
He stared them down. Then slowly, deliberately, he sat and stilled himself, eyes locked on the sensors. Sure enough, as his motion ceased, the blinking lights began to shut off, one by one.
Motion sensors?
With utmost care, he raised the finger the butterfly perched on, keeping it subtle enough not to trigger the sensors. In a whisper so soft no human could hear, he said:
“I’ll get out on my own. Tell them not to interfere.”
The butterfly flicked its wings in a slow rhythm, as if responding, and then fluttered up, slipping out through the window again.
Leonardo stared after it for a while, sunlight warming his face through the gap in the stone. Then, his gaze flicked back to the sensors, checking whether the lights had stayed off.
They had.
