When the desk shattered, the magic circle, reagent, ink, and candle that had been on it fell down. Mixing like colorful raindrops.
Sparks fall.
Whoosh.
The spilled candle soon became flames, starting to burn the canvas inscribed with the figure, the ink, and the reagent. The time needed until shock burst from Emma’s lips wasn’t much.
“I-I-Ian… What, what is this……!”
Ian didn’t answer. He merely tore the letter envelope to shreds and threw it into the burning flames as kindling.
Emma’s mouth, having lost even words, opens and closes blankly.
The man was smiling.
“Fate, you say?”
Was it mockery?
It was unclear whom the bitterly bitter smile was directed at. There was just one certain fact.
The man would never break.
“Emma, I came to change fate.”
“You can’t do that.”
With eyes even tinged with fear, Emma shook her…