“Ha ha ha... MWA HA HA HA HA!”
Crap, I think I’m overdoing it a little again...
My ultraconcentrated, anti-Godolphen special edition sedative had been effective, to say the least. It only took about half the vial to render the enemy forces completely silent and rigidly paralyzed. I looked at the hellscape before me blankly for just a moment—and then, with my head tipped back and my right hand on my forehead, I began to laugh. I was still cackling when my classmates arrived, all of them with horrified expressions.
“You just had to go all out, didn’t you...?” Dan called up to me, sounding utterly dumbfounded. “This wasn’t the plan, Allen! And what’s with the laugh, anyway?! You’ve been doing it all morning!”
“It’s my impression of an unfortunate man who’s been used and abused before being tossed aside like a worn-out rag, and as a result, joins the dark side, even if it means becoming a demon himself!” I yelled back. “And I didn’t have much choice about the plan... There were a few unexpected difficulties. How’d you go with their supplies? I’m guessing they were hidden pretty far away, just like we assumed... Sorry, but do you mind administering the antidotes to all of these guys for me? Otherwise we’re not gonna be able to send them on their way to the waiting area,” I said, promptly lying down on my back in another impression; this time, it was of an old man entering a food coma after an all-you-can-eat buffet.
“You seriously still believe in demons...?” Dan sighed. “Fine, we’ll get started—but why are you lying down?”
“My mana’s nearly gone. Standing is too hard.”
“So much for a dramatic finish...”
✦ ✦ ✦
While my classmates were still making their rounds with the antidotes, Tim approached me. “You’re incredible, Allen. The rumors don’t even begin to describe you. You wiped out hundreds of soldiers all by yourself, and you barely had to lift a finger. You might as well have sprayed gas into an airtight room. I’d love to know how you did it, but I suspect this ability of yours will receive a level 4 security classification before the day is out... I’ll hold off on asking for now.”
Sorry for committing chemical warfare...
After clapping me on the shoulder a few times, Tim—his expression still grim—began to issue orders. “We’ve been annihilated. Withdraw! We’re running out of antidotes, so channel all your mana to your cores and try to recover as much as you can on your own! Those who can move, start making your way to the casualty zone immediately!”
As he’d said, we’d encountered another unexpected problem. We’d started with the most seriously paralyzed soldiers, using a mixture of antidotes and healing magic (luckily, there’d been a few medical mages among the fallen) to get them on their feet again. But there were simply too many of them. Those killed in action were meant to retreat to the casualty zone, which was apparently situated at the real border defense outpost about five kilometers to the west. However, the monster-infested mountains were dangerous enough for normal soldiers, let alone ones who were still partially paralyzed—thus Tim’s current consternation.
“Jewel, can’t you cast a zone healing spell or something? You know, fix them all up in one go?”
Jewel looked taken aback for a moment but then began to laugh. “I was only recently given permission to read the diaries that were left behind by my ancestor Saint Sally. In them, it described a spell sometimes known as a miracle from the heavens—a spell personally developed by Sally. By using it, she could heal hundreds of people at once, but... Allen, however do you know of it, I wonder? I cannot cast it, just so you know. In fact, no one else has ever succeeded in casting it. I do hope to master it one day, but right now...”
Huh. I didn’t realize zone healing spells weren’t just standard practice... Actually, there’s a lot of things I don’t know about holy magic. Compared to the other kinds of Emissive Magic, everything about it seems different.
Of course, I couldn’t explain how I’d known about the concept of zone healing spells—not without explaining that area-of-effect spells were simply a common feature in the video games and light novels I’d been exposed to in my previous life as a Japanese person. I was pretty sure I’d read something about Saint Sally Reverence during my first few weeks in Runerelia, when I’d spent all my free time hunkered down in the Royal Library, but I couldn’t remember if there’d been any mention of miracles or heavens.
I shrugged. “I mean, it’s common knowledge, right? You’ll definitely be able to master it—actually, I reckon you could cast it right now. Why not give it a go?” I suggested. In truth, it was purely wishful thinking. Someone was gonna have to clean up the disastrous mess I’d made, and I was very much hoping it wouldn’t have to be me.
“What?” Jewel replied, shocked. “I wouldn’t stand a chance casting something like that on my best day! And you’re asking me to try it when I’m on the verge of exhaustion?”
I nodded firmly. “Yep. It’s because you’re on the verge of exhaustion—that’s why you’ll be able to do it. We can’t push our limits without first reaching them, right? I believe in you, Jewel.”
Mwa ha ha.
For reasons I couldn’t fathom, my classmates had a lot of faith in me. Way too much, to be honest. After a declaration like that, I knew Jewel would at least give it a go, wrongfully assuming there was something fueling my confidence in her. There’s no way I can do it—that intrusive thought always became a self-fulfilling prophecy. If even a flicker of doubt entered your mind, it would overwhelm you, even if you were technically capable of doing whatever it was you were trying to achieve. To conquer a challenge that seemed unconquerable, believing in yourself was the most important thing.
Or so some athlete had said in my previous life, anyway.
But there’s no harm in giving it a shot! She’ll probably fail, but they’ll just call me a liar again like they always do, and I’m used to that. No harm done! If anything, it’ll hopefully make their faith in me plummet to a less ridiculous level...
“To push my limits, I have to reach them first...” Jewel nodded. Grasping her beloved scepter like a lifeline, she closed her eyes and began murmuring under her breath, as though organizing her thoughts into words. Her eyes snapped open once more as she turned to me and smiled softly.
A chill ran down my spine. Jewel, with her sweet smile and her golden hair glowing in the moonlight, was a vision to behold—but instead of marveling at her beauty, I found myself possessed with abject trepidation. Something troublesome was about to happen.
“Actually, you’re right, let’s wait a few more years—”
I was too late to stop her. Jewel had already begun chanting in ancient Lavandulish, the words rolling off her tongue like a song, her voice high and sonorous enough to reach the heavens itself. A shower of golden light—the same color as Jewel’s glowing hair—spilled out of her scepter and rained down upon the prone soldiers. My classmates had fallen silent, several of them clasping their hands as though in prayer.
“The Saint...” one soldier murmured softly, his voice trembling.