“Ow!”
A thrust to his chest sent Guy tumbling across the floor. He landed on his back, and a hand reached down to him.
“Sorry, too strong a hit. You okay?”
“Yeah, no prob. Appreciate you training with me.”
Guy reached out and took the proffered hand. Gui Barthé pulled him up; they’d found an empty room to get some exercise in. Lélia Barthé was with them, reffing the match. And sitting in the corner, arms around one knee, a sullen look on her face, was Annie Mackley, dragged here against her will.
“I said to ask for anything, right? Sword practice doesn’t even count. So I’m adding in some tips for free. I mean, your Lanoff’s a mess, Greenwood.”
Lélia’s assessment was a candid one. Guy grimaced, raising his athame.
“Just call me Guy. But yeah, I figured as much. I ain’t ever gonna be like Oliver,” he muttered, naming his role model.
“I’m not suggesting you go crazy polishing yourself to his level.” Lélia shrugged. “And if you aim to win by means other than the blade, fair enough. But if you are, then you oughtta focus on the techniques that buy you that time. You’re strongest when you keep enough distance to scatter toolplants, right?”
Her advice was tailored to him.
Guy tapped the ground with his toe. “If there’s soil around, yeah. Fighting indoors like this, backing off ain’t gonna do me a lick of good. I got real lucky with the terrain in the league and the lava tree mold. Fighting in regulation rings, my skills are bottom of the middle at best.”
“Heh, how very you. Did you forget who mentored you? The one and only Survivor! To my knowledge, he never even tried to enter the combat league. But no one was better at navigating the labyrinth—even the school’s biggest names respected him. It’s all about how you use what you got. And are you even interested in picking fights and notching up victories?”
Lélia addressed the fundamental concern, and Guy sighed, sheathing his athame.
“Well, no. I came to Kimberly to study ancient and extinct species, but I’m better suited to growing crops down home on the farm. But that ain’t my friends. They’ve been through some tough spots, and I know there’s more of that coming. Katie and Pete are out there polishing their skills and getting stronger; I can’t be left be—”
“They aren’t right for you.”
A voice cut him off. Flinching, Guy turned toward it. Mackley had held her tongue this whole time, but now she was scowling at him.
Her words were lost on him, so he asked, “What, Mackley? What do you mean?”
“What I said. You aren’t like your friends. From what you’re saying, you’re after strength to keep them safe? That’s all fine and dandy. But it’s got jack shit to do with the path of your spell.”
Mackley wasn’t mincing words at all—and Guy couldn’t immediately respond. Surprised to find he couldn’t just laugh it off, he crossed his arms.
“…Uh…that’s not true. They’ve all helped me study, helped with my research. And thanks to them, I’ve had a labyrinth workshop since year one.”
“And in return, you damn near died how many times? Again, fine. Suit yourself. But what, a labyrinth workshop? You still need that? You’re about to join a seminar, get free use of their facilities. No need to be in the labyrinth—make a new workshop with students in your field. You’re long past the need to be hung up on the shared base you prepped in the lower forms.”
“…No, I’m…”
Mackley wasn’t letting him get a word in edgewise. The more she spoke, the more worked up she got—without really realizing it. And having failed to stop herself, she’d gone past voicing an opinion and into winding him up.
“And helping with your research? You gonna pay for that with your life? That’s a lousy deal by any standard. Ha-ha, your buddies sure know how to wheel and deal. I guess you can’t put a price on friendship! They’re really getting their money’s worth. A beautiful bit of logic that lets them bleed you dry indefinitely.”
“Okay, Mackley, that’s enough,” Gui said, deciding it was time to step in.
Catching herself, she awkwardly looked away, saying nothing else.
“You just have to say what everyone else is scared to, huh?” Gui sighed. “Good way to make enemies. You gotta build up to things! What good will it do to decide you’ll piss him off anyway, so you might as well not hold back? You weren’t trying to pick a fight with him, were you?”
“…Hmph…”
Mackley buried her face in her knees. Gui snorted at her, then turned toward Guy.
“Mackley massively overstated things. My sister and I agree on that. But—not everything she said is off base. Mind if I try translating the salient parts?”
“…Uh, sure, please,” Guy said. He nodded, trying to stop his head from spinning.
Gui closed his eyes, picking his words.
“Simply put—you may have some blinders on. I get wanting to fight alongside your friends, but that’s because Hibiya and the rest keep plunging headlong into danger. It’s not what you actually wanna do. There’s value in trimming that away and reevaluating. We may be stuck with our lot in life, but you’re free to make some changes.”
“…Trimming?” Guy frowned.
Gui shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying to cut them loose. Does it sound better if I call it ‘adjusting your distance’? You’ve been tight with them since day one. I was with my sister and Lady Ursule before we got here, so I can only imagine, but making friends early on is critical to keeping yourself safe here. But not many people in the upper forms are still with the group they started out with. As they move up, they figure out what they’re each good at, and their paths diverge. It’s the natural result of finding what’s best for yourself—and not in any way a bad thing.”
Guy was taking his time, step by step, mindful of the logic. There was common ground in what they said, but this made a very different impression than Mackley’s outburst. Without his feathers ruffled, it was hard to ignore the point. Seeing that on Guy’s face, Lélia chimed in.
“You’re in a different position than you were in year one. You’ve got knowledge and power, you’ve built a reputation on campus, and there are teachers and upperclassmen with their eye on you. Worst-case scenario, if you distance yourself from Horn and the others, you won’t be alone. That much is an actual fact. At the very least, we’re—”
“What a fascinating conversation!” a harsh new voice cut in.
His wand had cast amplification and convergence spells to make his words penetrate the sound-dampening barrier. Everyone gulped when they recognized the voice and turned toward the door, where a smaller boy stood, arms crossed. A bespectacled fourth-year reversi with a high-strung air about him—Pete Reston.
“Reston?!”
“How—?! We were soundproof!”
“You think that’s foolproof, too? You think I’d let Guy roam free in this state?”
Pete’s entrance had left Guy flat-footed, but this made him gasp. He started patting the pockets of his robe and soon found it: a coin-sized scout golem inside the hood. It had picked up their entire conversation and broadcast it via a mana frequency to Pete. Since the sound itself wasn’t sent, the sound-dampening barrier couldn’t stop it. Guy looked rather ill.
“……!”
“You’ve got a lotta nerve. You survived that mess through sheer luck, and a minute later, you’re trying to poach him? Ha-ha, I’m amazed you thought you could get away with it. I thought everyone in our year knew just what fate lies in store for anyone who fucks with us.”
Pete was stalking across the room, muttering. Clearly way past angry. Gui braced himself, Mackley put her back to the wall, and Lélia stepped out before them, hands up.
“Calm down, Reston! I know it sounded bad, but that wasn’t our intent! We were just discussing possible futures for Guy. If you take offense to that advice, my brother and I will happily apologize. We have no intention of opposing you—”
“‘Guy,’ is it? Gosh, I had no idea you were on a first-name basis. Didn’t expect you to work your wiles on him. Gotta raise my estimation of you. I only ever saw you as Valois’s puppets before.”