The Son-In-Law Of A Prestigious Household Wants A Divorce-Chapter 142: Severance Ring

“Stay strong!”

“You’ve got this!”

“We’re always cheering for you!”

Isaac waved off the young women mages, each holding a towel and a sports drink. As he stood there awkwardly watching them go, he turned around—only to find the Grandmaster waiting, arms folded, eyes fixed on him.

“Finished?”

“…Would you like something to drink?”

When Isaac offered the bottle, the Grandmaster curled her lips into a brief smile and shrugged.

“How could I drink it? Those maidens brought it as a present for Sir Isaac, who’s been working so hard.”

“……”

“Enough of that—get back to what you were saying. Didn’t you claim you’d just achieved some insight?”

“Ah, right. Actually—”

The door slammed open again, and a red-haired girl burst in.

“Isaac! My turn! Fight me!”

Sharen strode in boldly, greatsword balanced on her shoulder. The moment Isaac and the Grandmaster turned their eyes to her, a brief silence settled.

Seeing their faces, Sharen blinked and tilted her head.

“Uh… Did I come at a bad time? Should I come back later?”

“Well, the timing isn’t exactly—”

“No. You came at the perfect time.”

Welcoming her, Isaac glanced at the Grandmaster.

“It’ll be faster to show you. How about it?”

“Hm… proceed.”

The Grandmaster stepped outside. Isaac and Sharen took their places—another in a long line of sparring bouts. Runes floated in the air, glowing softly as they recorded the timeline:

No one actually dies here anymore.

“Alright! This time I’ll win!”

Sharen raised her greatsword, face lit with a carefree grin. Every duel with Isaac ended the same way, yet she always charged in, undaunted.

Isaac drew the twin blades at his waist. These days, straight sword fundamentals—not high-speed draw techniques—felt more natural.

“Uryaaaaaaaah!”

With Sharen’s battle cry, the red aura—spread out from her sword like rippling waves. Unlike other Helmuts, Sharen’s aura carried an oddly gentle quality.

It lacked the usual Helmut brutality, holding something softer within.

Isaac often called it “waterflow,” giving her pointers along the way.

The awkwardness she once showed was gone from the aura now.

“…Why aren’t you coming?”

Greatsword lifted, Sharen frowned at Isaac. Normally he dashed in before the red aura could fully swing—once he closed the gap her every move was an open book.

All he ever had to do was watch the aura.

Yet Isaac simply stood there, calm. Sharen puffed her cheeks and swung.

“Fine—have it your way!”

Vwoooom!

The blade carved a broad arc, and the water-like red aura surged forward.

‘Now.’

He never intended to dodge.

No Demonic ki, no borrowed aura—only the bare edge of his blades, his breath, his will.

Meeting the attack with nothing but his own strength—

Slash!

The cascading red aura split clean down the middle, soft and precise as silk torn in two.

In that instant, the Helmut aura—its power and destructive force—was cleaved apart by a single sword.

The same technique the Grandmaster once used against Arandel—and now, faintly, that very figure appeared in Isaac’s posture.

“……”

Sharen stared, dazed, at her severed red aura. She’d seen Isaac cut it with demonic ki or counter it with aura—

—but to slice it apart only with swordsmanship? That was new.

“Wh-what the heck?!”

Sharen froze in shock—but Isaac was already sprinting forward, almost surfing along the split waves of red aura.

By the time he closed in, Sharen grit her teeth and slashed, yet he read the move as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Whoosh!

Isaac’s blade stopped right at the tip of Sharen’s throat. Even in a practice arena, the idea of cutting her neck felt wrong—maybe because she still seemed like a kid.

Usually, Sharen would drop her greatsword and concede at this point.

“……”

Not today. Puffing out her cheeks, she glared daggers at him—clearly furious that her red aura had been sliced apart.

“Goo!!!”

Sharen flung the greatsword aside, hurled her whole body forward, and head-butted Isaac square in the chest.

“Guhk?!”

Thud-crash!

Isaac hit the ground. For a split second he thought his ribs might be broken—but when he blinked, he was back at the starting spot, the pain gone.

“Sharen—!”

Even as Isaac protested, Sharen stuck out her tongue and grumbled.

Just then the Grandmaster walked back in. Eyes wide, she strode over and gave Isaac’s hair a rough ruffle.

“What in blazes?! How did you reach that level of insight?!”

Under the Grandmaster’s spirited praise, Isaac offered a small smile.

‘Once you reach the peak, aura is unnecessary.’

That’s what the Grandmaster had always said—though Isaac knew he hadn’t yet reached her plane.

Even so, he’d managed to cut through aura, thanks—oddly enough—to his bouts with the mages.

“After sparring for days, it just struck me. A wizard’s spell and a knight’s aura… in the end they’re both rooted in mana.”

Lately the mages had switched tactics—throwing up walls, widening distance. Facing their barrages, Isaac realized magic and aura shared the same base.

“So my senses finally clicked. All that sparring with the mages helped a lot.”

“Haha! Well done! Gaining enlightenment from such trifles—this master is almost embarrassed!” the Grandmaster laughed.

“Again! Let’s go again! This time I’m really going to win!” Sharen dashed over, whining as she latched on to him.

Sadly, the arena was now off-limits.

“Remember? They said the spell to locate the mana core starts today. Everything’s stopping for that.”

The mages who still hadn’t found it were about to cast a retrieval spell. According to the Tower Master, mana carries traces—its own history. They can track it that way.

Had they started sooner, things might’ve been simpler—but no one knew where on the continent the core had drifted, so preparation was essential.

On the bright side, the sheer time spent readying the spell had convinced the mages they could find it anywhere now.

“We almost killed Isaac just by sparring again.”

“……”

Sharen nodded to herself, as if that explained everything.

“Well, let’s go. Should be quite the show.”

The three left the arena. Daylight had already faded; darkness draped the tower city, silvered by moonlight—streets Isaac now knew by heart.

They said a grand spell was about to unfold, yet the city itself had gone strangely dark and still; without the usual mana lamps, walking felt more awkward than expected.

Just then, two silhouettes—Damien and Nameless—approached from afar, each carrying a lantern, dressed light as though out for a festival.

“All finished?” Damien asked.

“Yes. And what did you do today? I told you to swing your sword with my disciple, did I not?” the Grandmaster scolded at once.

“……”

Damien endured the lecture. Though the Grandmaster’s pupil, Damaen was far more gifted in footwork than swordplay—hardly surprising for a former thief.

While the Grandmaster chided, Nameless stepped past and addressed Isaac.

“I stocked the lodge with food. Word is the sky’s about to light up—quite the spectacle.”

“Is it that big a deal?”

“They’re tracing a mana core that vanished who-knows-where. Supposedly they can pinpoint it even from the far side of the continent.”

“Ho…”

So the Tower really had been grinding its teeth over this.

On the way back, a single shard of blue mana arced high across the night sky—like a fallen star taking flight again. Isaac walked on, staring up, slack-jawed.

“Prettyyy.”

Beside him, Sharen mirrored the pose, gazing upward.

“Come on. They say those flares will keep blooming for two, three hours—spreading over the whole continent,” Nameless urged.

“Amazing,” Isaac murmured.

With the Tower Master now a casual acquaintance, Nameless knew the details. A drink at the lodge to unknot their nerves sounded perfect—

“Um, Isaac.”

“Yeah?”

Sharen tugged his sleeve, still looking skyward.

“Is that thing… heading right for us?”

“…Huh?”

He’d never imagined it—yet two masters stood at his side.

The Grandmaster scooped Isaac under one arm, while Nameless grabbed Sharen and Damien, leaping clear.

And then—

The blue light that had soared so high plunged straight toward the spot they’d occupied.

Kwaaaaaaaang!

“Wasn’t this spell for finding the core, not murdering thieves?!” Isaac yelled.

“No idea!” Nameless shouted back.

A crater yawned where the street had been, dust billowing. Thankfully it was mid-road; no buildings collapsed.

Pew pew pew!

Another mana star streaked skyward—and veered right at them, this time unerringly toward the Grandmaster and Isaac.

“Wait—this—”

Now Isaac couldn’t ignore the clue: every core-seeking flare was homing on him.

Before it struck, a fierce heat blossomed at his chest. Instinctively he reached inside his coat and whipped out a tiny ring.

The divorce rite—

The Severance Ring they’d exchanged like wedding bands.

More precisely, Rihanna’s ring was blazing with searing light.

– – The End of The Chapter ––

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