"Unbearable spoiled little brats." Robin growled under his breath, glaring at the closed door with simmering anger. His jaw tightened, his patience stretched thin. Then he turned toward Jabba, his tone softening slightly though his expression remained sharp. "...Are you alright over there?"

"Tsk, tsk~" Jabba groaned as he pushed himself up from the floor, moving stiffly. "My body's fine, but my pride… my poor pride isn't. Damn it, I need to get back to training before I start rusting." He spat the words out, half irritated and half embarrassed.

Robin let out a quiet exhale through his nose. "We'll deal with that pride of yours later. Right now…" His voice deepened, and his gaze snapped back toward the apartment door, locking onto it with lethal focus. A low hum filled the air as his body began to radiate an overwhelming surge of soul force — thick, heavy, and unrestrained.

Wooooosh!

The air trembled.

"This…?" Jabba's eyes widened in awe, his breath caught in his throat. It was the first time in his life he had witnessed soul force manifest so vividly before his eyes. There was no spell formation, no soul creature, no visible conduit — just raw, dense, unfiltered power.

Its hue glowed white, pure as moonlight, but at its edges shimmered faint streaks of gold that seemed to ripple like liquid sunlight. Jabba blinked several times, his mind racing. Wasn't it silver before? How in the stars did it turn gold and white?!

"Hmph!"

Robin extended his hand forward, the veins in his arm glowing faintly beneath his skin. His immense soul force condensed in an instant into thousands of razor-like needles that burst forward, piercing through the air toward the door. They moved faster than sight — a blur of brilliance — then spread out and enveloped the apartment from the outside like a net woven from light.

And then… he closed his eyes.

Had Robin still been at his old strength, he would've had no choice but to summon Althera herself and have her reduce the entire residential block to rubble just to drag Morgana out. Or worse, he might've been forced to beg Barok to intervene personally.

But that era was gone. He had transcended it.

Now, this spell — a creation of Morgana, a one-star Royal Soul Lady — would crumble like paper before him.

Less than a minute passed before Robin opened his eyes again. A ring of intricate, glowing runes ignited on his right hand, pulsing faintly with a golden rhythm. He pressed his palm toward the door and commanded in a low voice, "Open."

Krrrrrrrrr!

A dense layer of purple soul force rippled across the apartment walls like living smoke, resisting violently for a few seconds — but cracks soon began to form. Kraaaak! The energy web shattered, fragments of light scattering like shards of amethyst before vanishing into nothingness.

BAM!

With a single kick, Robin's right leg smashed through the weakened barrier and the door exploded inward. He stormed in with lightning speed, scanning the room, golden eyes darting from corner to corner until they froze upon the figure he sought.

"Morgana!!"

There she was.

A woman draped in crimson robes, seated cross-legged on his bed in utter stillness. Her hands rested delicately on her knees, eyes closed as though lost in deep meditation. But her stillness wasn't peace — it was the quiet of something near death. Her vital signs were faint, almost extinguished.

Her aura was a suffocating black, dense and cold, coiling like mist around her frail body. Her face was as pale as snow, her lips darkened, and the skin around her eyes bruised with shadow. From the corner of her mouth ran a thin stream of dark, half-dried blood that glimmered dully against her cheek — frozen mid-flow, as though time itself had stopped the instant it fell. Everything about her radiated eerie stillness… a frozen world trapped between life and death.

"This…?" Jabba hurried after his master, climbing through the broken doorway. His eyes began to glow faintly with a green hue as he examined the scene. "There's… there's a layer of purple energy around her, isn't there?"

"Yes." Robin's golden eyes flared faintly as he stepped closer, each movement deliberate. "It's similar to the spell that ensnared you… but weaker. Her life functions still run, but at an extremely slow pace."

He knelt beside her, placing his hand near her chest as he examined her soul domain directly. After a few moments of silence, he exhaled softly. "Heh~ Sorry, Morgana. I came late."

Jabba's voice was hesitant. "What… what happened to her? Is she dead?" He tried to pierce the purple veil with his vision but couldn't see through — his power was far too weak. But he knew his master could see everything within.

"No," Robin replied, his voice calm but heavy. "Not dead — but she was standing at the edge of it. She must've realized she was losing her final battle against the specter, so she made a desperate choice. She cast this spell on herself — one that couldn't be undone from within, only broken by someone from outside." He paused, brushing a dark strand of hair away from her weary face. "She placed her trust in me… hoping I'd return one day to save her."

He frowned slightly, studying the weakening aura that still clung to her body. "At its current strength, the spell could've preserved her for perhaps a century — no more. And when it finally collapsed, she would've died instantly… and the specter would've been released into the world."

Robin's expression softened. His fingers lingered on her cheek, tracing the line of the frozen blood. "It's a good thing you decided to wake up, Jabba,"

"Who exactly is she?" Jabba frowned, confusion mixing with mild irritation as he crossed his arms. "Don't tell me you've decided to give up your bachelorhood again? I thought you were done with that kind of drama."

Robin let out a soft, amused sigh, his gaze still fixed on Morgana's still body. "Heh~ I stopped thinking about women that way long ago—ever since she died… the one I never loved, remember?" His voice carried a faint melancholy, buried beneath layers of calm detachment. "As for this girl here once told me that I'd become intellectually castrated. Maybe she wasn't wrong. Maybe I truly did lose that part of myself somewhere along the way."

"…How many times do I have to apologize for that?" Jabba sighed.

Robin chuckled under his breath, a faint gleam of warmth flashing across his face. "Apology alone won't save you, my little friend. You'll have to endure a few centuries of it at the very least." He gave Jabba a sideways glance, then stretched his arms before letting the golden light fade from his irises. "Alright, Morgana… time to wake up."

BAAAM!

The heavy wooden door burst open with an ear-splitting crash that rattled the entire apartment. A deep, booming voice followed instantly:

"Who dares to invade Big Brother's apartment?!"

A towering figure stumbled into the room, having slammed so hard against the wall that cracks spiderwebbed through the stone. He blinked rapidly, trying to refocus his vision before scanning the room like a maddened beast. When his gaze finally fell upon Robin, his ferocity melted into disbelief—then to sheer emotion. His eyes shimmered as tears began to well up.

"…B–Big Brother?!"

Robin didn't flinch. He turned his head just enough to glance at the man before calmly returning to his work. "Shaddad. Good timing. You're here. Don't let anyone disturb me—no matter who they are." His tone left no room for argument.

Huuuuuuuuuum—

The entire chamber began to vibrate as a luminous formation appeared in front of Robin—an enormous rune that pulsed like a second heartbeat. It was no ordinary spell circle. The energy swirling within it was a seamless fusion of soul force and natural energy, weaving together in breathtaking synchrony. The air shimmered, dense yet serene, as if the room itself was holding its breath.

"…Extraordinary," Shaddad muttered, awe spreading across his massive frame. He stepped closer, each movement cautious, reverent, until he stood beside Jabba. His eyes, glowing with a bright green light, struggled to keep up with the constant shifting of the runes and streams of power. "Boy," he whispered without turning, "do you have any idea what Big Brother is doing right now?"

"All I know," Jabba replied slowly, his voice almost trembling, "is that he's saving her. But how he's doing it—no clue. Still…" he exhaled, eyes wide with wonder. "You're right. This is… extraordinary."

Shaddad gave a soft, rumbling laugh, the kind that shook his chest. "Extraordinary, you say? You poor fool you think you know what I'm talkin about? If you had a Truth Eye and could truly see what I'm seeing, you'd understand what the word divine means. I can't even tell which Law he's invoking!"

Jabba tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Actually… I do have one," he said quietly, his eyes glowing brighter in response. "Even so, I can't fully comprehend it. If my master hadn't told me beforehand which Law he planned to use, I'd be just as lost as you are right now."

"…Your master?" Shaddad turned slowly, his expression tightening in disbelief—until his gaze met Jabba's, and he saw the unmistakable glint of green light shining from the boy's eyes.

"Mhm." Jabba nodded firmly, straightening his posture as a faint breeze of power flowed around him. "That man—" he gestured toward Robin, who now stood surrounded by golden radiance, his silhouette framed by spiraling energy that seemed to bend reality itself—

"—is my master."

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