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The critical detail in past tests was the lack of a true hero\'s soul. They used ordinary souls, or in the Vatican\'s case, Saint Joan of Arc, the most ancient figure the modern Curtained World could manage. Any hero older than that typically resided with the deceased gods.

However, Achilles\' presence implied that whoever orchestrated her father\'s abduction and the Confederacy coup had at least one God of Death on their side. What did these godlings desire besides reclaiming their lost glory and world domination? Undoubtedly, they aimed to restore the world\'s mana and reassert their authority.

Empowered by the intel gleaned from Daniel regarding the Hightower\'s supposed god countermeasure (which now seemed dubious at best), and considering the weakened state of the Path of Knowledge after their clash with Daniel, Pride arrived at a horrifying truth.

The god countermeasure was likely a complete fabrication. It reeked of a ploy that aligned perfectly with the desires of the very gods they supposedly aimed to restrain. Recalling the Path of Knowledge\'s previous push to restore world mana, a plan that would empower those same deities, Pride pieced together a disturbing conspiracy.

The Path of Knowledge, stripped of resources and influence after their fight with Daniel, couldn\'t possibly be behind this elaborate scheme. It pointed towards a powerful, hidden entity within the Hightower itself, one manipulating events from the shadows and wielding influence over both internal and external forces.

Panic surged through Pride as the truth settled in. "Who are they?" she thought, the weight of the revelation threatening to crush her. This information had to reach the Envy, her mentor\'s ear, and Daniel. Alone, she was powerless. But then another worry gnawed at her - her father!

Pride glanced back at the cell, its transparent wall a stark reminder of her father\'s captivity. Resolve hardened her features. [This is incredibly risky, but I have no other choice] she thought, then swiftly moved to the cell wall. With a loud thwack, she signaled for her father\'s attention.

"Father! Body to the wall - stay low!" Pride shouted in a frantic shout.

Reginald, the President and her father, didn\'t hesitate. He immediately crouched down, pressing his side against the wall and remaining motionless.

Achilles, his suave facade slipping, watched with growing irritation. "What are you playing at, Pride?" he demanded. "It\'s pointless. Why not stay and accept the inevitable? You could learn a thing or two about pleasure..." A predatory glint flickered in his eyes. Using force wasn\'t his ideal scenario, but if this defiant girl left him no choice, then so be it.

"Perhaps after some persuasion, your heart will follow suit," he finished with a cruel smirk.

Pride\'s face contorted in disgust. Reacting with lightning speed, she produced a lathe amethyst jewel, runes etched intricately on its surface. Channeling a powerful spell, she fortified her hand, granting it strength beyond steel. With a decisive movement, she crushed the jewel.

A deafening crack echoed as the jewel shattered, unleashing a torrent of amethyst energy. This magical force enveloped Pride and pierced through the cell wall, engulfing her father within its sphere. It tore upwards, ripping a hole through the basement ceiling and disappearing into the night sky.

Achilles, forced back by the raw power of the unleashed magic, could only watch helplessly. Anger and frustration contorted his features as he stared at the gaping hole in the ceiling.

"Ah, what a pity," he muttered. However, a hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. "I have a feeling this isn\'t goodbye, little warrior. We shall meet again." With that, he turned away, retreating to his room, leaving the ravaged cell behind.

—

High above the Confederacy, Pride steered the amethyst sphere towards the US border, her ultimate destination: San Francisco. The sphere hurtled through the sky at Mach 3, a fiery comet fueled by her mana. But this ferocious pace had consequences. It was burning through her reserves like a wildfire consuming oil.

Her mana veins, straining like an overclocked machine, desperately converted atmospheric mana into usable fuel for the spell. As the sphere tore across the sky for twenty minutes, a searing agony ripped through her. Her overworked veins simply couldn\'t convert natural mana fast enough to keep pace with the spell\'s demands.

The magical energy began to burn directly through her overheated mana veins, causing Pride to grunt in pain. But then, a ruthless glint flickered in her eyes. She had another trump card to play. Gritting her teeth, she divided her remaining mana in two, momentarily intensifying the strain on her body. She uttered the forbidden words, her voice laced with desperation.

"By the infernal pact, forged in blood and screams, I offer my lifeblood as tithe! Let the essence of rage, the fire of defiance, course through my veins! From sacrifice I draw power, from pain I forge my will!

Flesh withers, but magic thrives! Consume my essence, Devourer Below, and grant me the power to fulfill this crimson vow!" With this incantation, Pride unlocked a forbidden technique: Blood Magic. It would convert her very life essence into fuel for the spell.

The final syllable of the incantation hung heavy in the air. Then, with a sickening churn, the blood within her body began a horrific transformation. It pulsed and writhed, morphing into a crimson ichor, a magical essence leeching from her very veins.

It surged through unseen channels, bypassing her physical circulatory system and flooding directly into the magical veins of her soul. Pride gasped, a wave of debilitating fatigue crashing over her. The lifeblood vital for her physical form was dwindling rapidly, and with it, oxygen starved her brain. The forbidden technique\'s dreadful toll was swift and brutal.

"By the pact of crimson pain, I defy the body\'s claim! Sever the ties of flesh and bone, let crimson fuel the mind alone! O Devourer Below, grant this desperate plea, steal the breath from the air, and feed it unto me!" Another incantation Pride uttered.

A surge of power rippled through Pride as she inhaled deeply. The crimson magical energy, fueled by her blood sacrifice, bypassed her circulatory system and delivered life-giving oxygen directly to her brain. This forced her body to function normally, albeit temporarily.

The efficiency was undeniable - her blood converted entirely into mana, with a small portion siphoned off to maintain basic bodily functions.

However, this technique was a desperate last resort, reserved for lunatics and mages on the brink. It drew heavily on one\'s life force, significantly shortening the lifespan. The Hightower library held grim accounts of a powerful mage who, in the throes of battle, overused this technique until he withered into a desiccated husk.

But desperation was Pride\'s current companion. The amethyst jewel, a gift from Envy for protection, could transport her to safety. Normally, the jewel\'s power consumption fell within Pride\'s capabilities as a powerful mage. However, carrying her father had doubled the mana expenditure.

No… in truth, it was worse than double - the spell\'s consumption was proportional to the weight within the sphere, and her father, unfortunately, outweighed her.

**Fifty minutes of supersonic flight had taken their toll. The amethyst sphere skimmed over San Francisco, but Pride\'s reserves were depleted. Her thoughts trailed off, dissolving into unconsciousness as the sphere dipped towards safety. **

Fortunately, the failsafe mechanism built into the trinket by Envy kicked in. It recognized Pride\'s critical condition and redirected the trajectory towards the nearest haven - Envy\'s residence, the opulent Greed Mansion on Lombard Street.

The sphere blazed across the sky, a dazzling anomaly that drew curious eyes. Phones were raised to capture the spectacle, but a strange occurrence befell them all. As the camera lenses focused on the sphere, a mysterious malfunction shut them down, leaving witnesses bewildered and empty-handed.

With a silent whoosh, the sphere vanished, reappearing moments later in the secluded backyard of the mansion. Its arrival startled Sat, the guard dog, who erupted in a flurry of barks. However, sensing the unconscious state of the two figures deposited on the lawn, Sat held back from attack, his barks meant to alert his masters.

Hearing the commotion, Envy and Koyuki emerged from the back door. A gasp escaped Envy\'s lips as she recognized Pride. Her pupil\'s face was alarmingly pale, drained of blood. The telltale signs of blood magic overuse manifested in Pride\'s gaunt frame.

"Pride!" Envy cried, rushing to her side. She channeled healing magic to stabilize Pride\'s condition. Koyuki, ever-efficient, dashed back inside, soon returning with a medical kit specifically designed for magical ailments.

"Koyuki, call an ambulance! Use our emergency contact," Envy barked, urgency lacing her voice. She swiftly flipped open the medical kit and grabbed a syringe. With practiced ease, she drew a blood sample from Pride\'s arm, her brow furrowing in concern. The blood test would reveal the extent of the damage wrought by the blood magic.