“Seiichi.”
“Yeah?”
“Destroy the Night King.”
“Huh?” I blinked.
She actually said it… Routier told me it was okay to kill her own father. The words hit me so hard I almost laughed at the absurdity. The Night King heard them too, and the smug composure he’d worn a moment ago snapped like glass. Panic flared in his eyes.
“W-What are you thinking?! If you annihilate me, the part of her father that remains will be erased forever!” he spat.
“I know,” Routier said, voice steady. “But your plan is obvious… you’re just stalling so you can swallow his spirit and become complete, aren’t you?” The accusation landed true; the Night King faltered, mouth opening and closing as if struck.
“Guh! Y-You—!” he choked, and rage made him savage. The darkness around him writhed into a whirl of spears and tendrils, and he hurled everything at us in a desperate, screaming onslaught. “Die! Die! Die, you trash! Burn, burn, burn!”
I didn’t hesitate. I countered each of his assaults with a swift, decisive strike of the Rapier of Festering Hatred—blade arcing through the night and shredding shadow into mist. Still, the Night King never relented; he fought like a creature with no alternative, clawing to drag whatever remained of Routier’s father into himself even as he lashed out.
Do I really have to blow him away along with the father he’s using? The thought knotted in my gut. No. That’s not the only option. My body’s been through worse than this; I don’t break that easily. Morning doesn’t come? Then call it.
“Routier.” I took a step closer, voice low but clear.
“Seiichi… please.”
Routier’s voice trembled, tears brimming in her eyes as she pleaded. She wasn’t just scared; she was entrusting me with everything.
I gently rested a hand on her head, giving her a soft pat, then turned to face the Night King.
“Damn it! Just a little more… just a little more and I’ll be complete!”
He was shouting now, desperate and panicked, clawing for a victory slipping out of reach.
But I didn’t respond. I simply closed my eyes and focused, drawing in a quiet breath.
“Seiichi?” Routier blinked in confusion. “What are you doing? If we wait too long, my father will…”
“It’s okay, Routier!” Saria said with a reassuring smile. “Seiichi’s got this.”
“Huh?”
“Please,” Altria snorted, folding her arms. “It’s not like this is anything new. He’s always pulling off ridiculous stuff.”
“Altria…?”
“There’s no need to worry. We all know how absurd and insanely reliable that guy is.”
“Yeah,” Origa nodded softly. “With Seiichi-oniichan… things always turn out in a fun way.”
“Fun?” Routier repeated, still unsure.
Then even Zora added her voice, calm and filled with quiet conviction. “I also thought it was impossible that I’d never see the outside world again. But now… I’m here because I believed in him. So, you can believe too.”
“Zora…”
That’s when someone else chimed in, someone who’d been focused entirely elsewhere until now.
“What are you even worried about?” Lulune said flatly, glancing up from where she’d been hunting for food. “If Master’s here, there’s literally nothing to fear. Just relax and think about eating or something.”
“F-Food?!”
“That only applies to gluttons…”
Lulune’s completely absurd comment shattered the tension like a stone breaking glass, and Origa immediately fired back with a sharp retort, her voice dry and annoyed. It was classic Lulune: throw out something ridiculous and wait for someone else to clean it up. And just as typical was Origa, stepping in without hesitation to play the voice of reason.
Even in the middle of that chaotic rhythm, I felt it: every one of them trusted me. That trust ran deep. I could see it in their eyes, in the way they looked at me now. And honestly, I was grateful. I really was. Still, just this once, I needed to say it:
I’m not that irrational. Or that crazy, all right? Yes, maybe I’ve gained a few new tricks recently, and perhaps I’ve pulled off a couple of stunts that turned heads, but it’s not like I’ve gone off the deep end! I’m still me! Just… me, slightly upgraded!
Anyway, all of that was beside the point. Right now, I had something much more important to focus on.
I was about to create a new spell from scratch, one that would literally summon the morning. It had been ages since I’d done that. My palms tingled with nervous energy, and my heart beat a little too fast in my chest. This wasn’t just a spell. It was a lifeline—a desperate answer to the impossible.
All right… morning. What does “morning” even look like?
The first image that came to mind was rush hour: crowds flooding into train stations, commuters with dead eyes, cups of convenience-store coffee in hand, and the sound of closing train doors ringing in their ears. Sure, that was morning. But that was Japan’s morning—a stressful, chaotic slice of reality—not the peaceful, bright image of “dawn” I was looking for in this spell.
“Seiichi-oniichan, your face looks kinda intense right now,” Origa muttered, squinting at me.
“I’m starting to get worried… Are you sure you’re okay?” someone else added, unease creeping into their tone.
“I-I’m fine! Probably! I think!” I blurted out, forcing a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.
No, no, no… focus! Think! There had to be something else. Early risers? Morning practice? School assemblies?
Ughhhhhh! None of this was working!
I thought it would be easy. Just picture “morning” and shape it into magic. But now that I was actually trying, I realized how vague, how abstract that idea really was. The concept of morning wasn’t a single image; it was a feeling—a shift. And trying to pin it down was like trying to catch sunlight in your hands.
“Haa… haa… Just… a little more—!”
I was breathing hard now. My vision blurred at the edges from strain.
“…! Seiichi, hurry!” Routier’s voice cut through the noise like a blade. “The Night King… he’s almost done!”
My stomach dropped. No time. The Night King was seconds away from fully absorbing Routier’s father. If I didn’t act now, we’d lose him, and possibly everything else. The gravity of it slammed into me like a wave, but instead of focusing my mind, it scattered my thoughts further.
I was trying—really trying—but the panic was killing my ability to concentrate. My imagination wasn’t keeping up. Every image I summoned slipped away like mist before it could take shape. I had to simplify. I had to stop overthinking.
Okay. The sun. Just focus on the sun itself. Pure light. Warmth. A sky turning gold at the edges.
But no… Wait. That was too literal. If I actually summoned the sun… I could see it now: the spell manifesting a celestial body, a blinding orb of nuclear fire crashing down and vaporizing the entire planet in an instant. Yeah, not happening.
This spell had to be symbolic. It had to call the morning, not unleash it like a doomsday weapon.
Call the morning… let the morning come… morning has arrived…
Morning has come!
And then, just like that, something clicked.
A single, vivid image surged up from the depths of my mind: pure, radiant, and unmistakably morning.
And then, it happened.
“Ha… Ha ha ha! It’s over! At last… at long last, I shall—!”
“—Cock-a-doodle-dooooooooooo!”
The world stopped.
No, really. The entire world just… froze.
Wait… What the hell did I just say?
I had been so entirely absorbed in forming the spell—so focused on visualizing the image in my mind—that I hadn’t even noticed what actually came out of my mouth.
Blinking in confusion, I slowly looked around.
Saria was smiling as if she had just witnessed something beautiful. Lulune gave a mysterious little nod, as if everything had gone exactly as she expected. But Al had a hand pressed to her forehead in disbelief, and Origa, along with the other girl, just stood there, mouths slightly open, frozen in stunned silence.
And the Night King—yes, even him—was staring at me with an expression that could only be described as, What the hell is this guy talking about?
Uh-oh…
I tilted my head, trying to process what just happened, and then a voice rang out inside my mind, calm and mechanical, like an automated system announcement.
>Skill: Magic Creation has been activated. Celestial Summoning Spell: Cock-a-doodle-doo has been created.
…
“COCK-A-DOODLE-DOOOOOOOOOOO?!”
What kind of spell name is that?!
I mean… okay, yes, fine. I had imagined a rooster crowing when I thought of “morning.” That was the image I was going for. I can’t deny that. But did I really say it out loud? That loudly?!
Still clutching my head in both hands, I let out a strangled groan of embarrassment. Al, veins visibly throbbing on her temple, finally broke the silence.
“Just to be clear, I have to ask. You’re not screwing around, right?”
“I-I’m not!” I shouted, snapping to attention like a cadet under inspection.