Chapter 66
*
The four of them who had escaped the prison.
The four moved forward, relying on the faint light hanging from the ceiling and suppressing the sound of their footsteps.
Carl was at the front.
He was deft at holding his folding sword low, pressing his back to the wall, and checking corners.
Once he filled his lungs with the clean air free of opium dust, life had returned to his eyes before he knew it.
Grrr….
Right before he turned the corner.
He ran into two ghouls in the dark.
Before the ghouls could even react, Carl's sword sliced through the darkness.
With a single strike, both ghouls' heads flew into the air.
The guards aren't that strong.
Carl murmured as he shook the fluid from his blade.
Valeria, supporting Ellie, gave Carl a thumbs-up and praised him.
Freyja was guarding the rear with her pistol in hand.
Right before he turned the corner.
He ran into two ghouls in the dark.
Before the ghouls could even react, Carl's sword sliced through the darkness.
With a single strike, both ghouls' heads flew into the air.
The guards aren't that strong.
Carl murmured as he shook the fluid from his blade.
Valeria, supporting Ellie, gave Carl a thumbs-up and praised him.
Freyja was guarding the rear with her pistol in hand.
And so, picking off the ghouls one by one,
before long, the group had made it back to the surface.
At the end of the long corridor,
they saw a door leading outside.
An exit.
That hopeful word rose in the minds of all four.
All right. Now—
Just as Carl, standing at the front, was about to set foot on the stairs,
Thud.
From above the stairs leading to the second floor,
the heavy sound of someone's footsteps came down.
All four of them stopped at once.
Thud- thud-
Someone was coming down at a slow, heavy rhythm.
Carl signaled the others with his eyes and pressed them against the stairwell wall.
After confirming the others were hidden in the wall's shadow, Carl gripped his sword in reverse.
The footsteps drew closer and closer.
A shadow fell first around the bend in the stairs.
Carl held his breath.
The instant the owner of the shadow rounded the corner, Carl kicked off the wall and sprang.
The aura-infused blade swept toward the shadow's neck.
It was a perfect trajectory, one even Carl had to admire.
But just before the blade reached the neck, something flashed in midair.
Clang.
With a sharp, unpleasant screech of friction, Carl's sword was knocked away.
Only then did Carl confirm what had deflected his sword.
'...Insects?'
Three tiny beetles.
Those three had formed a triangle in front of the burly man's neck.
The beetles' shells glinted dark blue in the light of the mana stone lamp.
It was these three fingernail-sized insects that had deflected an aura-infused sword.
It took Carl a moment to accept that fact.
…Damn.
Whew. What a cheeky little brat.
The owner of the shadow finally emerged fully beneath the mana lamp.
A burly man with dense black markings carved into his left forearm whistled from beneath his hood.
I thought you were a hothouse flower, but you even know how to pull off a surprise attack like this.
Thunk!
When the giant hammer head struck the floor, spiderweb cracks spread across the stone.
Freyja realized the man was the burly fellow Carl had mentioned before.
The burly man glanced indifferently at the beetles fading away before his throat, then looked back up the stairs.
Igor. Take a look at these. This doesn't look easy.
We don't have much time, Boris.
Behind the burly man, a gaunt man in a robe slowly descended.
The man wore a robe and had an unlit cigarette between his lips.
Freyja instantly recognized that the gaunt man was a black mage.
'Igor and Boris, was it? Probably aliases.'
They were far too common as aliases in the mercenary business.
If you tried to find an Igor-Boris duo through the mercenary guild, you'd probably get hundreds of registered names.
The man called Igor swept his gaze over the students without yet coming down the stairs.
His gaze stopped on the family crest embroidered on Freyja's cape.
Young lady.
Igor spoke.
I regret what happened today. Something like this should never have occurred.
Freyja looked up at Igor, pistol in hand.
Igor descended one step.
How about this. Today, the young lady simply took a wrong turn. She wandered a little while taking a stroll outside the Academy. That's all.
….
Go back to the dormitory, wash up, eat, and attend class tomorrow. Return to your peaceful daily life as if nothing happened. Then all of us can be happy.
Freyja did not answer.
Instead, she returned the question.
Then what happens to my seniors here?
Is there any reason for a young lady like you to concern yourself with these commoners?
I knew it.
Freyja nodded calmly.
I'm sorry, but I can't accept that offer.
You're a noble, and yet you don't shy away from hard liquor.
Precisely because I'm a noble, I have honor to uphold.
Tsk.
Boris clicked his tongue lightly and hoisted the hammer he had set down onto his shoulder.
Igor.
Right. Go, Boris.
The moment those words fell, Boris moved.
The giant hammer split the air.
The horizontally swung hammer head surged forward as if it meant to wipe out the entire corridor where the students stood.
Carl sprang forward.
His aura-infused blade narrowly diverted the hammer's path.
KWAANG-!
The wall the hammer grazed was gouged like tofu.
Oh, aura? They teach even mere undergrads that these days too? Makes tuition worth it!
The next blow came immediately after.
Carl realized he didn't have much aura left.
But that didn't mean he could block a brute like that with his self-defense sword over and over.
So Carl chose evasion instead of defense.
Back!
With that single shout, Carl shoved Freyja and Valeria behind him.
Then he ducked and slipped under the giant hammer's arc.
As the hammer passed overhead, his hair was blown tousled by the wind.
From beneath it, Carl's sword rose.
An angled rising slash carrying aura.
It was a strike aimed at Boris's flank.
Boris tried to block it by raising the hammer shaft.
But that too was exactly what Carl had aimed for.
'Thankfully, his movements were simple.'
Twisting its path, the blade slipped under the shaft and split Boris's thigh.
A spray of blood splattered onto the floor.
Oh?
Boris's eyes widened.
I didn't realize it when you were getting beaten up in prison, but you had this kind of skill?
With that, Boris swung the hammer again.
At the same time.
The gaunt mage Igor began chanting behind Boris to support him.
But the moment his lips started to move,
Ventus.
Wind rose first from Valeria's staff.
It was a beginner wind spell.
Of course, as a beginner spell, its destructive power was trivial.
Still, it carried enough force to knock out an adult man if it hit his chin when he was off guard.
The gaunt mage Igor leaned back to dodge the wind.
But Valeria didn't regret missing.
Because her objective wasn't to subdue Igor.
Igor tried chanting again.
Dra——
Ventus.
Her goal was only to disrupt that black mage's chant.
Even for a high-ranking mage, casting without chanting would be quite taxing.
Valeria was simply targeting that weakness and doing all she could.
…Clever.
Igor, having caught on to her intent, calmly praised Valeria.
While Carl took on Boris and Valeria took on Igor,
Click.
From the shadows, Freyja quietly checked the revolver's cylinder.
A sanctified silver bullet.
A bullet said to have once assassinated a count-level noble and brought down a second-rank black mage.
'I have to hit him cleanly.'
Her target was the first-rank mage, Igor.
Once the mage was taken down, the burly man could be handled if Freyja joined in.
Freyja steadied her breathing.
After confirming once more that Igor's attention was fixed on Valeria,
she silently aimed at the center of his chest.
And the moment Valeria's wind cut off Igor's chant,
Bang!
The gunshot tore through the corridor.
The silver bullet flew straight and buried itself in Igor's chest.
Igor's upper body bent far back from the direct hit to his chest.
Igor!
Boris, the hammer-wielding giant, was also taken aback by the fact that Igor had been hit.
Carl didn't miss the opening.
Thud!
The sword pierced the giant's abdomen.
It's over.
A flash of certainty passed through Freyja's glacier-colored eyes.
At least, that was what she thought until Igor, staggering as if about to fall backward, slowly lifted his head.
Huh?
Hnh… As expected, a pain I never get used to no matter how many times I'm hit.
Igor spat the cigarette he had been holding in his mouth onto the floor.
The chest where the silver bullet had struck was far too clean.
Looking closely, the bullet seemed to have stopped as if blocked by something in front of his chest.
The gaunt mage picked up the silver bullet that had stopped at his chest.
… You're using expensive bullets.
Black things spilled out from inside Igor's robe.
They were insects.
Tiny black beetles, the same fingernail-sized ones that had shielded Boris's neck earlier.
Those beetles were densely covering Igor's chest.
Dozens of beetles touched by the silver hissed and burned away.
And that was all.
There wasn't a single scratch on Igor himself.
Igor dropped the silver bullet to the floor.
The operation itself was excellent. For students who've never experienced real combat, that combination was far too well coordinated.
Igor clapped slowly, deliberately.
But in the end, you're still students.
Click.
His applause stopped.
I don't know where the young lady got such expensive bullets, but I suppose that's what you get with nobility. Having the item and knowing how to use it are two different things.
Crack.
The mage stamped down on the silver bullet rolling on the floor.
How many mages do you think this bullet has killed so far? And you think mages wouldn't have prepared countermeasures for that, young lady?
The moment she heard those words, one fact flashed through Freyja's mind.
In the past.
Back when Erica had told the story of defeating a black mage with a silver bullet.
At the time, Freyja had one question.
Why had he made Otto and Wangcho fire the gun instead of Julian?
Why hadn't they pulled the trigger while the black mage was chanting?
Igor was giving her the answer.
At the very least, you should have aimed for the moment when a mage had exhausted their mana, or the instant after casting when the backlash hits. If not that, you should have infused aura into the bullet.
A silver bullet has no effect unless it hits directly.
Mages who knew that well usually had some kind of countermeasure prepared.
In Igor's case, he used the sacrifice of the insects he controlled instead.
You had too little understanding of the bullets you were using, young lady.
At that moment, an odd sound came from Boris's side as well.
Zzzzzz.
It was coming from Boris's abdomen, where Carl had just pierced him.
Freyja turned her head.
Carl's aura-laden sword had definitely pierced Boris's stomach.
It was certain from the way the tip had protruded out his back.
But even with the blade lodged in him, Boris's flesh was writhing.
Soon the flesh rose up and pushed the blade out.
The hole vanished, and the skin knitted back together.
Carl took hold of the pushed-back sword again and stepped away.
I've never heard of this kind of enhancement procedure.
Boris let out a snort of laughter.
Then he tapped the tattoo on his left arm with a finger.
Enhancement procedure, brat? When did I ever say that?
Boris's body began to change.
Scales sprouted over his skin.
His arms thickened, and his nails split and sharpened into claws.
A tail shot out from his back.
Ever heard of chimera grafting?
His vertically slit pupils reflected the mana lamp's light.
Valeria reacted at once.
She shoved Ellie toward the wall and pointed her staff at the lizard-like giant.
Prutinis
The chant completed on her lips.
But the spell did not form.
Mana flowed, the formula was correct, and the conditions were met.
It even had the symbol.
And yet no miracle took shape at the tip of her staff.
Why?
I kept the conditions and the symbol—
While Valeria was flustered, Boris's tail lashed out horizontally.
At Valeria and Ellie.
Carl reflexively threw himself in front of the two of them.
He tried to block it with his sword raised, but the mass of the scale-covered tail was beyond what the top student of the swordsmanship department could handle.
Thud.
With a dull thud, Carl's body was sent flying into the air.
After spinning once in midair, Carl slammed back-first into the wall at the end of the corridor.
Senior Carl!
Freyja screamed.
Valeria's hand shook around the staff.
'Why isn't it working? Why?'
A hoarse voice cut into Valeria's ashen mind.
Didn't I say it? You're still students.
Valeria turned her head.
Igor was slowly wagging a finger.
Slowly left and right, like a metronome.
To a mage, knowledge is power. At your level, you probably couldn't even figure out which condition I changed.
Valeria's face stiffened.
Dispel.
A technique that secretly alters conditions and symbols the opponent doesn't know, nullifying their magic.
She knew it in theory.
But she'd never encountered it in student-level sparring, and she'd certainly never experienced it in real combat.
When facing a mage of higher rank, hiding your formula comes first. Do they not teach this in the upper division anymore?
Igor took out a fresh, unlit cigarette and put it between his lips.
Wind and ice are your main specialties, are they? Easy to read. You cast too recklessly. If everything could be solved just by blocking chants with beginner magic, why would mages bother learning intermediate spells?
In a fight between mages, one decisive hit is what matters.
The more times you use magic, the more your favored conditions and symbols are exposed.
For mages, whose gap in knowledge was itself a weapon, the longer a battle dragged on, the more exposing one's main specialty became a fatal weakness.
That's why mages only bring out their true skill when they're certain they can deal a fatal blow.
Just like Igor now.
After forcing magic that hard, you should be getting dizzy by now.
Valeria staggered as Igor said she would.
It was mana sickness.
Along with the barrage of beginner spells that had partially broken her previous chant, there was even the backlash from the final spell misfiring.
No matter how basic the spells were, spamming them like that could never leave her with any mana to spare.
Looks like you've never really fought in real combat.
What's so great that you need to explain everything one by one, Igor? Did getting kicked out awaken some late-blooming passion for education?
The lizard man, who had been silently listening to Igor, grumbled while picking at his ear.
Igor froze for a moment.
…Even so, I was sincere when I was on the podium.
Of course you were.
You wouldn't understand. That feeling when a talented student understands my lecture. You can never experience that in this world.
A guy who couldn't stand his own students getting ahead of him and ran off sure talks a lot.
Gnash.
Igor ground his teeth and glared at Boris.
The lizard man snickered and raised his middle finger.
Shut up and finish this already. Looks like the fire upstairs is about to spread down here too. What about the young lady?
It won't be much different from the original plan.
The hooded mage's gaze turned to Freyja.
We'll deal with the rest. As for the young lady... convincing her seems impossible, so we'll erase her memories at the hideout and send her back.
How troublesome.
It'll be a pain if the baron chases us all the way to the end.
True enough.
Boris raised the giant hammer vertically.
His target was Carl, slumped against the wall.
Carl's breathing was ragged.
Every time he inhaled, a sound like something splitting deep in his chest leaked out.
Beside Carl was the girl who had only been crouching there until just moments ago.
Carl! Breathe! What do I do!
Hngh…khk….
His breathing... what should I do... what did Director Shun tell me to do at a time like this...
Ellie, who had been so overcome by the opium dust that she couldn't even move, had somehow crawled over to Carl's side.
Ellie tapped her own head, trying hard to remember something.
Before long, her hands began doing something over Carl's chest.
And Freyja stepped in front of Boris as if to protect the two of them.
I won't let that happen.
Glacier-colored mana rose from the tip of Freyja's gun.
Boris frowned irritably and looked back at Igor.
Igor. Can't you dispel this too? This is getting more and more annoying.
Igor shook his head.
It's a secret art.
So?
Dispel is impossible. It's probably using conditions that only someone who can inherit that family's blood can read. It wouldn't be called a secret art for nothing.
Fuck. Nobles are a pain no matter where you go.
Resting the giant hammer on his shoulder, Boris looked down at Freyja.
The lizard's vertically slit pupils met Freyja's glacier-colored eyes.
Let me ask just one thing, young lady.
There was no hostility in Boris's voice.
Are they really worth risking your life for? I've never seen school seniors and juniors this close before.
Freyja answered without hesitation.
You don't protect something because it's precious in the first place.
One person flashed through her mind.
The one person she admired more than anyone, the only one who went about scattering goodwill across this dark world.
His selfless kindness had saved countless bonds, and it had even saved Freyja.
The girl who had grown up witnessing that miracle from his side,
It's precious because you protect it. A connection can never even begin unless someone reaches out first, after all.
She wanted to keep chasing after that back forever.
That was why she couldn't back down now.
If it were the person she knew, he would surely have done the same.
…
Boris raised his eyebrows.
A brief silence filled the corridor.
Haa….
The lizard's deep sigh echoed down the corridor.
As long as they're still breathing, the elders will take care of it.
He raised the giant hammer again.
In response, Freyja hooked a finger around the trigger.
It was then.
The voice Freyja had longed so much to hear rang through the corridor.
I agree with that, Lady Freyja.
Ignus tacto.
A low chant, as though intruding on that dearly missed voice.
Whoosh!
A blazing red stream of fire came rushing down the second-floor stairs and engulfed Igor and Boris.
The entire corridor grew scorching hot.
Freyja's cheeks grew hot.
But even though they were exposed to that heat at such close range, none of the students suffered burns.
It was impossible to tell just how intricate the spell was, or how much exception handling had been built into it.
Igor!
I know.
Insects spilled out from the walls and ceiling.
Hundreds of beetles built a wall in front of Igor and Boris.
The insects burned away as they absorbed the flames.
Ssssss——
The smell of burning insects filled the corridor.
The flames died down.
But the price was steep.
Tsk... I burned through half of them.
More than half of the insects Igor controlled had been reduced to ash.
He looked toward the end of the corridor with hollow eyes.
You checked my rank and, instead of showing off your own magic, used the fire that was already there. Excellent judgment.
Why are you praising it so much, you bastard.
Be careful, Boris. They're used to battles between mages. Even if my rank is higher, we could still be caught off guard.
Before they knew it, the door near the exit was open.
Men in black combat uniforms were walking in from beyond it.
The Ironclad crest was emblazoned on their chests.
They spread out in perfect coordination while wearing gas masks.
The sound of combat boots striking the stone floor rang out at steady intervals.
And at the head of those operatives, two people walked out side by side.
One of them was carrying a giant magical apparatus connected to a nozzle, something almost like a gun.
Chief Shen.
We came after receiving word from the Nihirit family, young lady.
The head of Ironclad gave Freyja a light salute, then stepped one pace to the side.