The Extra's Rise-Chapter 820: Rin Ashbluff (6)

I exhaled slowly as the battle within Rin’s mindscape finally reached its conclusion, the storm of corrupted mana that had defined her existence for seventeen years gradually subsiding into something approaching peace. Her mental form rested limply in my embrace, the fierce energy that had driven her toward destruction now reduced to exhausted silence.

’Stubborn girl,’ I thought with a mixture of affection and exasperation. Even when I had entered her mind with the express purpose of healing her, Rin’s first instinct had been to redirect my efforts toward killing her. Not out of selfishness or cowardice, but from grim resolve to protect the world from the devastation she feared she would inevitably cause.

She had even attempted to manipulate our mental battle, trying to force me into delivering a killing blow that would render her brain-dead while sparing everyone beyond her prison walls. It was the kind of selfless sacrifice that would have made her younger self proud, even as it broke my heart to witness.

But she had underestimated both my determination and my capabilities. I hadn’t come here to destroy her. I had come to save her, regardless of what that salvation might cost me personally.

’I still have enough mana,’ I noted with relief, feeling the reserves of power that remained available to me. The strength I had expended during our confrontation existed only within the mental realm, sparing my physical body from the toll of extended combat. That was crucial, because what came next would require every ounce of power I could muster.

Closing my eyes, I called upon my third Gift with careful precision.

Mythweaver.

The moment it activated, I felt the familiar sensation of reality becoming malleable beneath my will. Mythweaver didn’t just rewrite stories or alter narratives—it could reshape fundamental truths, taking the fabric of existence and reforming it according to patterns that defied conventional understanding.

And now, it would rewrite Rin’s very nature.

I looked down at her unconscious form, noting how peaceful she appeared when freed from the constant torment of warring magical forces. Her Gift of Duality wasn’t inherently evil—it was simply unstable, a volatile fusion of mana and miasma that no human consciousness was equipped to handle safely.

The solution was elegant in its simplicity: if one Gift containing both forces was too dangerous, then I would create two separate Gifts that could coexist without driving their bearer toward madness.

In the mental space of her consciousness, I reached out with Mythweaver’s reality-altering power. The Gift of Duality shimmered within her core like a chaotic star, its energies swirling in patterns that hurt to observe directly. Light and shadow, creation and destruction, order and entropy—all locked in eternal conflict within the confines of a single magical framework.

Gently, I touched the Gift’s structure with my enhanced perception, feeling the threads of its existence beneath my fingers. Mythweaver sang with anticipation as I began the delicate work of unraveling what had never been meant to exist in the first place.

The process required surgical precision. I carefully separated the intertwined energies, pulling apart the mana from the miasma while maintaining the essential characteristics that made each force powerful in its own right. They resisted at first, fighting to remain connected through bonds forged by years of mutual dependence, but Mythweaver’s authority was absolute within the realm of possibility.

Slowly, methodically, I divided Duality into its component elements. The mana portion reformed itself into something radiant and stable, pulsing with controlled power that spoke to healing and protection. The miasma crystallized into a separate Gift entirely, its destructive potential contained within structures that would respond to conscious will rather than mindless hunger.

When the work was complete, I felt the fundamental change ripple through Rin’s entire being. Where once a single unstable Gift had torn her consciousness apart, now two balanced powers existed in harmony—distinct but complementary, powerful but controlled.

Rin’s mental form stirred in my arms as the transformation took hold. The lines of pain and fury that had marked her features for so long began to fade, replaced by an expression of genuine peace that I hadn’t seen since her childhood memories.

"It’s done," I whispered, though I wasn’t entirely certain she could hear me in her current state. "You’re free now, Rin. The war inside you is over."

I opened my eyes in the physical world, blinking against the sudden transition from mental landscape to material reality. My body felt extraordinarily heavy, every muscle protesting even the slightest movement as the toll of using Mythweaver at such an intensive level finally caught up with me.

Beside me, Rin began to stir. Her breathing, which had been erratic and shallow throughout her imprisonment, settled into the steady rhythm of natural sleep. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and for a moment she simply stared at me with an expression of profound confusion.

"Rin?" I said softly, my voice hoarse with exhaustion.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she sat up with tentative movements, as though testing her own body for the first time in years. Her hands moved to her chest, pressing against the place where her magical core resided, and I watched her eyes widen as she felt the change within herself.

Then, without warning, she turned toward me and threw her arms around my neck with desperate intensity.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotions too complex for simple words. "Thank you... my hero."

The raw gratitude in her tone caught me completely off guard. She pulled back just enough to look at me directly, tears streaming down her face while her dark eyes shone with something I hadn’t seen in any of her memories—genuine hope.

"You didn’t give up on me," she continued, her voice breaking with accumulated relief. "Even when I gave up on myself. Even when I begged you to kill me. Even when everyone else would have said I was beyond saving."

I smiled weakly, raising a trembling hand to ruffle her hair in the gesture I had seen her father make in happier times. "Told you I’d save you, didn’t I?"

The sound of approaching footsteps drew our attention as Rin’s family entered the chamber. Valen moved with uncharacteristic hesitation, his usual commanding presence subdued by seventeen years of guilt and desperate hope. Camila followed close behind, her hands pressed to her mouth as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Jin came last, his composed demeanor cracking as he saw his sister truly awake and aware for the first time since childhood.

Valen was the first to reach us, his powerful frame trembling as he knelt beside the bed. For a moment, he simply stared at Rin as though afraid she might disappear if he looked away. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Rin? Is it really you?"

"Father," she replied simply, the word carrying seventeen years of longing and forgiveness.

Valen’s composure shattered completely. The man who had ruled a continent through sheer force of will broke down as he pulled his daughter into an embrace that spoke to every sleepless night and impossible choice he had endured for her sake.

Camila joined them moments later, her arms encircling both husband and daughter while she whispered words of love and relief that had been building in her heart for nearly two decades. Jin hung back for a moment, uncertainty clear in his expression, before Rin extended one hand toward him with a tearful smile.

"Brother," she said, and Jin’s careful control evaporated as he rushed to join the family embrace.

Watching their reunion filled me with satisfaction that went beyond any victory I had achieved in physical combat. This was what made everything worthwhile—not the power I had gained or the recognition I had earned, but the simple act of restoring what had been broken.

Valen turned toward me, his face still streaked with tears, and I could see him struggling to find words adequate for what I had accomplished.

"What did you do?" he asked finally, his voice hoarse with emotion. "How did you... how is this possible?"

I leaned back against the wall, every movement requiring tremendous effort as exhaustion weighed down my limbs like lead. "Her Gift," I began slowly, my words coming with difficulty. "Duality was the problem. Two opposing forces trying to exist within a single framework. It was tearing her apart from the inside."

"And?" Valen pressed, though his tone carried understanding rather than impatience.

"So I split it," I explained, managing a faint smile despite my condition. "Two separate Gifts now. One for mana, one for miasma. Distinct but stable. She can use both safely without them driving her toward madness."

Valen’s eyes widened as the implications sank in. "You rewrote the fundamental nature of her magical development."

"Something like that," I confirmed, though the effort of speaking was becoming increasingly difficult.

Camila looked at me with an expression of such profound gratitude that it made my chest tighten with emotion. "Thank you," she said simply. "Thank you for giving us our daughter back."