brighter until I could no longer look upon it. Waves of heat pulsed off the ball of fire, raising the temperature in the room by several degrees.
I averted my gaze and Misaki clenched her hand, dispelling the effect. The room cooled almost immediately, as if the glowing sphere of flame had never really existed.
“The spell-flame requires only the smallest trickle of mana,” Misaki explained. “Through the Relic, I can do far more by drawing upon the mana contained within you. This relationship between the wielder, the weapon and the bound spirit is what makes a True Relic.”
“So... why does AEGIS care so much about True Relics?”
Misaki's ears twitched. “They are unique artifacts of an ancient time long since past. No one alive today knows exactly how they are created. AEGIS wishes to obtain control of them or their wielders, not only to bolster their own strength and deny their enemies, but also to learn. They wish to strengthen the Relic-like devices wielded by their own hunters.”
It wasn't too hard to figure out where she was going with this. “I get it. They want to get their hands on real ones so they can reverse-engineer them and use the data to make their copied weapons more effective.”
“Yes. My former Master spoke of these Emulated Relics on occasion, insisting that they were nothing but a hollow imitation that paled in comparison with a True Relic.”
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I... well, I have seen their effects,” Misaki ventured. “I can't tell you anything about how they work, but they do work. Like the blade you now wield, these devices are capable of permanently destroying a specter's miasmic core.”
I suspected the both of us would find out soon enough, though I doubt either of us appreciated just how “soon” it would be. Misaki's ears perked up and swiveled, tracking some sound that was far too quiet for my human ears to detect. The fur on her tail bristled, causing the already fluffy appendage to gain even more volume.
“There is a person approaching the door,” Misaki whispered. “The person is armed, but they are making no effort to conceal their presence. They aren't here to fight.”
“I knew it wouldn't be long before the chickens came home to roost,” I muttered, standing up and walking to the door. “I don't know where you can hide here but—”
I am already hidden, Misaki's voice echoed through my mind. I glanced behind me, but she was nowhere to be found. The shock must've been evident in my mental voice, because I felt Misaki smile faintly.
I recalled my body into the Relic, within you. It will be completely impossible to detect me so long as I remain in this state.
Good thinking , I replied mentally, “speaking” at Misaki with my thoughts. I felt a sort of pleasant warmth emanate from the mental connection, but she didn't reply.
There was a knock at the door. Not the loud, rapid bashing against the door that was characteristic of a cop chasing a perp. Instead it was a soft, polite rapping, the sort of knock you'd expect from a door-to-door merchant or a neighbor wanting to borrow a few eggs and a cup of sugar.
I could feel a bit of uneasiness from Misaki, but neither of us had much choice but to move forward. There was no way we could run away from what happened. Fuck my life for always feeling the need to complicate itself further.
I took a deep breath, reached out and opened the door.
mercenary
“Karin Ashley, I presume?”
“You presume correctly.” I gave the unfamiliar man a quick once-over. Every single part of him screamed “federal agent,” from the cheap black suit, the white shirt and the plain black tie to the wire-rimmed sunglasses, expressionless mien and neat, short haircut.
He was definitely a good-looking man. Swarthy, very tall and well-built but slender, a sort of basketball player's build. He probably had to have his suits custom-tailored with arms that long, though. I just barely cleared 170 centimeters,
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