Claude said nothing, but there was a distinct glint in his eye as he glanced back over at her.
“You are a splendid swordsman, even without the drug,” Melissa said. “Why would you do something like this?” There was, in fact, a matter left unsolved. They knew who the culprit was, but not why he had done it. “I believe you were conducting an experiment in distributing the drug so widely. Is that right? In that case, what was the purpose behind your plan of using the drug to win the National Fencing Tournament?”
“Heh.” Claude’s lip curled upward in a sneer. “Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...”
He laughed, low and sinister. He held out his hand, producing something in his palm—a small round thing, which looked for all the world like a hard candy.
“Miss Melissa!” Fenrir exclaimed, his nostrils picking up on the scent. “Watch out! There’s some kind of powerful drug in that bag!”
No sooner had he issued his warning, than Claude tossed the drugged candy into his mouth. He chewed, and swallowed.
“Everything I’ve made so far has been test products...just tests for my experiment,” he said. “Everything, just to produce this drug!”
A dark miasma rose from Claude’s body—magic energy dense enough to be seen by the naked eye. And suddenly, Claude’s body, pushed far past its limits, began to physically transform. His muscles and tendons grew and grew and grew, so fast that his bones snapped like twigs under their strength. He was being reborn—his body made anew.
“Behold!” he cried. “Am I not magnificent?!”
What could have driven this man so far? His body, transformed by the drug, was so much larger that it had burst right out of his clothes. He no longer resembled a human at all.
“This was a good experiment,” the monster said, “but alas, it has all come to waste. I suppose I may as well take my leave. But not before killing everyone here. You’re all witnesses, after all.”
There was a great crowd of spectators here to see one of the great spectacles of the kingdom. Claude had just proclaimed his intentions to massacre a good portion of the population, right in front of them. There was a high-pitched scream from the spectator stands. Claude made up his mind to start with the woman who screamed, and leapt in her direction.
“Oh, shut up!” Melissa jumped in the air, thrusting with her rapier from below. It hit its mark, but the point was unable to pierce the thick hide the man’s skin had become.
“Oh? Would you like to die first?” Claude brought his oversized fists down at Melissa, striking her guard like a heavy hammer and knocking her out of the air. He was far too strong like this. Melissa could barely even fight him.
“W-Wait!” Melissa cried as Claude soared on toward the spectator stands.
“What a pity indeed!” Claude taunted. “If you, the strongest in this whole tournament, cannot defeat me, then there exists no one who can stop me from doing as I please!” He raised his fist before the trembling crowd, swung, and...stopped.
Melissa let out a chuckle. “Of course someone can stop you,” she said. “Her, right there.”
Standing in Claude’s way, blocking his mighty fist with a single hand, stood a young girl—Kanata Aldezia. She had bolted from her seat by the arena as Melissa’s second all the way to the spectator stands just in time to block his attack. The three furballs’ eyes were all spinning—they had been riding on her shoulders and head when it had happened—but it didn’t seem like they were hurt in any serious way.
“I-I can’t move my fist!” Claude cried. He was being held tight, unable to move his hand in any way, forward or back. “H-How can you project such power with such a slender body?! What drug did you use...? What did you do to get this strong?!”
“Just effort!” Kanata chirped.
“P-Preposterous!” the beast spat. “If mere effort can result in such strength, then what have I...? What have I...?!”
He raised his other hand aloft, projecting a ball of pure magical energy. It was absolutely colorless—magic that had no aspect or element whatsoever—but such was its density that it was visible to the naked eye for everyone watching. If such a thing were released in the arena, it might result in an explosion big enough to send everyone there flying.
“I won’t have it!” Claude declared. “I won’t have you! I will negate your very existence!” he screamed, hurling the ball of energy straight for Kanata at point-blank range.
“No way, no how!” Kanata said. She repelled the ball of energy meant to blast her away with a wave of her hand, sending it spiraling off high into the atmosphere. There was a huge explosion somewhere far away, big enough to scatter the clouds from the sky and send a shock wave of wind loud enough to drown out the audience’s screams. “If you negated my existence, I wouldn’t get to fluff-fluff!”
“Fluff...fluff?” Claude asked. He did not know what those words signified, but in the face of such overwhelming power, he had no choice but to bend the knee.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Melissa said. She had finally caught up with Claude, using her sword to prop up her body. “Why did you do it?”
“I...” the man said, “wanted to be an Alchemist...” However, when he was fifteen years of age, the Profession revealed to him at his Selection Ceremony was Fencer. “And yet, I could not give up my dream! I continued my independent inquiries into alchemy, but I would never be acknowledged as an Alchemist. Even the Association of Alchemicals denied me membership! I thought that if I could make a drug with incredible powers beyond anything the Association could produce, I’d finally have gotten the better of them...”
“And so you began to develop the drug in question...” Melissa confirmed.
“That’s right,” Claude said. “I was always second rate as a swordsman, but with the help of my drugs I could match blades with the best around. But strength that comes from a drug is always going to fall short of the real thing. In the end I was a dilettante of a man, who excelled at neither swordplay nor alchemy...” he lamented pitiably.
“No!” said Kanata, with surprising conviction. “That’s not true at all! You were just using the wrong methods! I can personally attest that you are absolutely amazing!”
“Wh-What do you know about it?!” Claude sputtered. “Someone like you, blessed with a powerful Profession, could never understand how I feel! But what Profession are you, to have obtained such power? A Sage? A Kaiser Fist?!”
“No!” replied Zag’giel from atop Kanata’s head. “Kanata is a Beast Tamer!”
“What...? A Beast Tamer?” Claude blinked. “You mean...the weakest Profession of all?”
“Indeed.”
“Th-Then...she really got this strong...?” he paused. “With just effort...?” Claude’s eyes went wide. Suddenly he understood—he was bearing witness to a miracle. The phenomenon manifesting before his eyes had nothing to do with Profession whatsoever. And that being—that sublime, resplendent being—had praised him.
“You already invented something much more amazing than that silly drug!” Kanata told him.
“Wh-What do you mean?”
“Your hair!” Kanata said, pointing to Claude’s luxurious, silver locks. It was so stunning that it stood out even on the man’s deformed body.