“That cruelty. That arrogance. I love it. Go on, give me an order. Tell me to surrender to your overwhelming power and kneel before you… Ah, my ruthless queen, I beg of you.” Monica’s cold, impassive face faltered, and she began to look troubled. Soon, all her ruthlessness vanished and she was back to her usual, timid self. “Um, you d-don’t have to kneel,” she stammered. “I—I just want you to promise you’ll keep my identity secret and that you’ll help me with my mission…” “If you want me to obey, you’ll have to discipline me. Now give me the hardest thump you can manage.” “……” Monica channeled her mana into the ring she’d stolen from him. The other rings he’d placed nearby began to glow, and a volley of flame arrows surrounded Huberd. With a hard voice and an impassive gaze, Monica said, “Thump.” Huberd smiled blissfully as the arrows rained down upon him. Huberd lay face up on the ground, unconscious, looking somehow satisfied. Monica gazed down at him as though he were some incomprehensible creature. Why is this so much fun for him? she wondered. Just as Huberd couldn’t understand her, she couldn’t understand him. Monica had no interest in thrills, triumph, fame, praise, or anything else magic battles could offer. To her, the time she’d spent cutting class with her friends seemed much rarer and more precious. Such moments were like irreplaceable treasures to Monica—much, much nicer than this. Monica looked over at Cyril, Glenn, and Robert, who were all collapsed on the ground. She wished she could take them someplace warm right this instant. But she couldn’t let anyone find out that Monica Norton had been in the woods. It had been a while since she’d left the spectators’ bench. She had to hurry back, or Lana and the others would be suspicious. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for getting you all mixed up in this! Just as she had when she came, she used her unsteady flight spell to return to the school and quietly reenter through the window. She carefully disengaged the spell—and nearly toppled over. Normally, she would work a formula into her spells to reduce the amount of mana used. But today, Monica had been so emotionally strained that she hadn’t had the capacity to do so. Plus, she had gotten very little sleep over the last few days. Her body was at its limit. I have to get back to the council room…or Lana will…be worried… After dragging her heavy legs a few steps, she tripped over her own feet and went splat on the hallway floor. I can’t stay like this, or I’ll only cause more trouble for them. I have to get up… Contrary to her wishes, however, her consciousness was quickly fading. She couldn’t even keep her eyes open. “Monica?” Someone’s arm hoisted her twiglike body back up off the floor. Great, now I’m bothering someone else… Tears fell from her eyes, wetting her cheeks. Through dry lips, she said, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry for causing trouble…” Monica’s body was frightfully cold as Felix picked her up. Her cheeks were sunken in, and her lips were as dry as a desert. He’d lifted her before, and she clearly weighed even less now. She probably hadn’t been eating or sleeping much because of this mess with Huberd Dee. Felix had just started off toward the infirmary when Monica’s lips moved. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry for causing trouble…” Apparently, she was still apologizing to someone even in her dreams. She probably couldn’t help it. Even for trivial things that others barely noticed, Monica would desperately apologize like she’d committed a massive, irredeemable failure. I wish she could let these things go. He lowered his eyelids slightly as old memories flashed through his mind. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for always causing you trouble, Ike…” In his memories, his friend was always crying and begging forgiveness, big teardrops pouring out of his blue eyes. He’d make himself small, like he felt guilty even for crying. The girl in his arms reminded him of that friend from his youth. She was a timid crybaby with no confidence, and she blamed herself for everything…and yet in the most critical moments, she refused to ask for his help. I wanted you to rely on me, he said to himself as he opened the door to the infirmary. There was nobody inside. The school’s doctor was on standby near the magic battle site, just in case. Felix laid Monica on the bed, then ran his fingers through her dry, light-brown hair. He had an inkling of why he was so attached to her. When he looked at her, he couldn’t help seeing that old friend from his memories. I’ve started to get emotional. “You never rely on me,” he said sulkily, looking down at her. “That’s the problem.” Monica never came to him in her time of need. Never asked anything of him. Even worse, she’d apologize for causing him trouble. Her words and actions shook loose the emotions he’d hidden away deep inside his heart. Exhaling, Felix looked out the window. Night came early in the wintertime, and the sun was already setting. Beyond a layer of thin gray clouds, the dark red of the setting sun and the indigo of the night sky blended gently together. Wil sure is taking a long time. A contracted spirit was linked to their master via an invisible thread of mana. If one concentrated, one could get a general idea of their spirit’s location. He closed his eyes and traced the thread. Felix arched an eyebrow. He’s outside the school? The prince had ordered Wildianu to put an end to Huberd. Why had he left the academy grounds? While a detailed conversation was impossible, a master and his contracted spirit could exchange simple thoughts even at a distance, like “Return” or “Help me.” And Wildianu hadn’t yet requested any help. …I’ll go have a look for myself. Felix stared out into the darkening sky, then quietly drew the curtains. A little earlier in the evening, a few minutes after the Silent Witch left, Felix’s contracted spirit Wildianu arrived at the site of the magic battle and was immediately confused. He saw Huberd—the cause of all this—collapsed on the ground beside his opponents Cyril, Glenn, and Robert. What in the world had happened? Who had won? I’d like to carry them all to the infirmary, but I cannot afford to let anyone see me in human form… Wildianu was currently in the guise of a white lizard, and he clung to a tree as he mulled over the situation. But then he noticed the brush opposite him start to rustle. A beastly figure emerged. The creature was as large as a boar but was in fact a wolf with gray fur. On its back rode a boy of about five or six. The boy was wrapped in a cloak from the neck down, so that Wildianu could only see his face and his boots. …Two spirits? Though the others were the same race as Wildianu, he didn’t intend to approach them for a friendly chat. For his master’s sake, he couldn’t let anyone else find out about him. Instead, he suppressed his presence as much as he could and observed the boy and the wolf. The boy climbed off the creature’s back, then spoke to the wolf in an awkward, faltering voice. “Sezh… I think…these people were…the ones fighting with magecraft.” The wolf opened its large mouth. Sharp fangs were visible within, and an adult man’s low voice rumbled forth. “Which has the most mana? Which is the strongest?” “Hmm… Their mana’s all depleted right now…so I can’t really tell… Can’t we take all of them?” “No more than two. Choose the lightest ones.” The boy looked at each of the four boys on the ground. “The black-haired one is muscular, so he’s probably heavy. We’ll leave him here. The silver-haired one looks the lightest, and as for the others…” His ice-blue eyes turned to Glenn, and he blinked. “This one has an incredibly high capacity… For mana, I mean. It’s way, way bigger than a normal human’s.” “I do not understand.” “If you look really close…you can kind of see it.” “I do not understand. Put them on. Quickly.” “Okay, then,” replied the boy. Something slid out of his cloak—not an arm but a branch made of ice, its tip split in half. He deftly hooked it on Glenn and Cyril, then lifted them up and placed them on the wolf’s back. They’re taking them away?! Wildianu’s master was Serendia’s student council president. He needed to rescue those two boys, or there’d be trouble for his master. Unfortunately, Wildianu was a poor fighter, and he didn’t think he could defeat the two spirits. What’s more, he couldn’t afford to reveal himself in front of Glenn and Cyril. In that case, my only choice is… Keeping his presence concealed, he gently hopped onto the wolf’s tail. The wolf, not noticing the little lizard, rode off toward the edge of the woods with Cyril, Glenn, and the boy on its back. Though the wind was howling, Wildianu heard a low voice between the gusts. The spirit in the guise of a young boy was murmuring to himself. “I’m sorry, humans. Please, forgive me. Please. Please, forgive me…” A man and a woman were walking through the woods where the magic battle had taken place. The man was in his twenties and wore a Sage’s robe. His long chestnut hair was done up in a braid. This was the Barrier Mage, Louis Miller. The woman was a little older—closer to thirty. She was dressed in loose traveling clothes, wore no makeup, and had her brick-colored hair tied behind her head. These were the two people William Macragan had called in to maintain the special barrier. “I had no idea you were near Serendia, Carla.” Though Louis was a Sage, the woman called Carla spoke to him casually, as though his rank meant nothing to her. “There’s an area of particularly high mana density near the old dormitories on campus that we’ve had our eye on for a while. I’m here representing the Magic Geography Association to take some measurements.” “I see,” said Louis. “So that’s how Macragan dragged you into this.” “What I actually wanted to investigate was the mana density in the nearby Kelielinden Forest, but the landowner refused… Have you heard anything about that, Louis? You’re a Sage, just like him.” “Why would I hear anything? That man is deep in Duke Clockford’s pocket—a very staunch supporter of the second prince. He’s an awful old codger whose only pleasure is picking fights with me at every opportunity.” “You need to get along with your coworkers better. You’re an adult now, remember?” Carla sounded like a concerned elder sister. Louis smiled, as if to say, “Yes, of course, I’m well aware.” But his silence made clear his true feelings on the matter. Carla shrugged and sighed, then turned to look ahead of them. “So what are we going to do about this magic battle? We can’t blow the Silent Witch’s cover while she’s on an infiltration mission, right?” “Indeed. We’ll say Huberd Dee’s magical items went out of control, and the match ended in a draw. I think that will be for the best. It was bad luck that one of her acquaintances from Minerva’s transferred in, but…she managed to defeat and silence him. I think she’s doing quite good work.” Louis put on a nasty grin. Then he seemed to remember something and glanced at Carla. “I’m sorry, Carla. About the Silent Witch’s infiltration…” “I won’t tell anyone,” she replied. “And I won’t ask for any more details. I don’t make a habit of digging into other people’s personal affairs.” “…I appreciate it,” said Louis. At this point, he came to a stop. Before him lay two male students in Serendia Academy uniforms. One was skinny, with red hair, and the other was muscular, with black hair. Huberd Dee and Robert Winkel, no doubt. “Oh?” said Louis. “My idiot apprentice is nowhere to be found.” He was probably afraid I’d give him a thrashing after his miserable defeat and ran away, thought Louis. But after a moment, he realized that Glenn didn’t even know his master was at the school. As he considered this, Carla looked around. “There should have been one more challenger. The silver-haired boy. I don’t see him, either.” Things were getting a little strange. Louis took a ring out of his pocket. The emerald embedded in it was his spirit’s stone of contract. “I’ll call Ryn and have her search,” he said. That idiotic maid, Rynzbelfeid, was a high wind spirit, and she could look for them from above. She could even use her powers to carry them safely back with her if they were unconscious. “Rynzbelfeid, spirit of wind, in accordance with the contract, be swift to my side!” he chanted, channeling mana into his ring. No response. Louis frowned; this was very odd. Ryn occasionally ignored his orders or interpreted them in interesting ways, but this was different. It felt like the mana he’d just sent hadn’t reached her—like he was pouring water into a cup with a hole in it. “…Ryn?” A contracted spirit was linked to its master by an invisible thread, allowing each of them to sense the other’s general location and distance. But no matter how much he focused, Louis couldn’t tell where Ryn was. “Has something…severed the link?” Louis stood, unmoving, as a cold winter wind blew past his feet. He rubbed his neck and glared sternly at the emerald ring on his finger as goose bumps rose on his skin. Meanwhile, Carla began to chant—she was using a detection spell. Such spells weren’t very precise, and they couldn’t seek out a particular person. But if Glenn was using flight magecraft, it might be able to detect that. Louis watched her in silence as she closed her eyes and frowned, searching for something behind her eyelids. “Louis,” she said, keeping her eyes shut, “I just got a signal from the northeast. It’s either a mid-level or high spirit…but it quickly left my detection range, so I can’t be sure.” “Northeast?” Northeast of Serendia Academy… Louis knew of at least one thing in that direction. He didn’t know if or how it was related to Glenn’s and Cyril’s disappearance, but his gut told him they had to follow whatever lead they had. “Carla, might I ask a favor of you?” he said gravely. “For my adorable fellow apprentice? Anything.” “Send a message to the Starseer Witch.” Depending on how things panned out, they might need to involve even more Sages. What a pain, thought Louis bitterly. In the forest northeast of Serendia Academy sat a little house. The cozy abode contained only a few pieces of furniture—enough for a guest to stay the night. To the right of the entrance was a large hearth; to the left, a shelf filled with tools; and in the center of the room was a large, conspicuous workbench. An elderly man sat at it, and with his wrinkled fingers, he plucked up a silver flute. The object was slender, about the width of an adult’s pinkie, and it had a silver chain so that it could be worn around the neck. The man put the flute to his lips and blew. It produced a rough, wavering fwoo-ee, fwoo-ee. Behind the man stood a beautiful maid with her golden hair tied back—Rynzbelfeid, Louis Miller’s contracted spirit. She stood as still as a sculpture, waiting. The man brought the flute away from his lips, then smiled in satisfaction, a darker emotion seeping into his joy. “The Barrier Mage must be in quite a panic right about now… Ah, what a delicious feeling.” A high-pitched male voice came from near his hands. “Heroes are born of calamity. No peaceful world would need one, would it? Please, use me, my master. I am Galanis, Flute of the False King, and I shall make you a hero!” A hero. The man’s heart leaped at the word. In his mind, he saw the young genius who had slain two wicked dragons—Monica Everett, the Silent Witch. The man was beside himself with envy. He couldn’t stand to think of those who possessed something unique, something that belonged only to them. It drove him mad to think of such geniuses with all their talent and power. Now, right here in his hands, he held a power of his own—the overwhelming power of an ancient magical item. It wasn’t born of his own talents, but he had been the one to fix it when it was broken, so that made it his, did it not? That was the man’s convenient interpretation anyway. “You are mine alone,” he whispered to the flute. “You are the manifestation of my talents.” “Quite correct! Let us be off, my master. First, we will bring the spirits of this forest under our complete control! With my power, we shall create the strongest army to ever walk the land!”
Chapter 145
15 min read