Tears by the Campfire
It always arrives without warning—this damned night watch. Nearly four hours had passed since I first took up the post. The shift I was originally assigned had long since ended, but... well, since sleep refused to come anyway, standing here was preferable to lying in my bed, staring at the canvas ceiling and turning restlessly.
Click... “Hoo... huuu...”
I had already burned through six deathweed cigarettes. Now, drawing on the seventh, I exhaled a long, tangled breath. It was during one of those empty, meaningless stretches of time that it happened.
Rustle...
A faint sound came from the tents. I turned my head. Standing there, illuminated by the firelight, was an unexpected visitor.
“Hik...!”
“...Violet?”
Purple bobbed hair glowed softly in the firelight. I tilted my head, studying the girl.
“...Haaah!”
The girl’s eyes snapped open in the darkness. For a moment she looked around in pure terror, then realized she was still inside the tent and let out a shaky breath of relief. A vicious nightmare. She tried to shake off the lingering dread, steadying her breathing. Cold sweat had soaked her purple hair, plastering strands to her forehead and cheeks.
Quietly, she pushed her stiff body upright.
“......”
Beyond the tent flap, the world was swallowed by deep night. The hour felt like the dead of early morning. She sat there blankly for a while, then small, broken sobs began to escape her. The nightmare that had just devoured her still clung to her heart.
Disgusting bitch. Don’t come near me.
Ugh... what the hell is that on your face...!
Get lost. You’re repulsive.
“Ugh... hic, ngh...”
She pressed both hands over her mouth so she wouldn’t wake the sleeping companions around her. The sobs she tried to choke down only made her feel more pathetic. It felt as though something hot was tightening around her throat. Somehow she managed to swallow the emotion and wiped the moisture from her eyes.
“Haah... haah...”
She slipped out of her sleeping bag and headed for the tent entrance. She needed to change the bandages that were now ruined by tears and sweat. Clutching a fresh roll of gauze, she opened the flap.
Ziiiip...
The moment the barrier between inside and outside was removed, the first thing that filled her vision was a campfire burning bright red.
“......?”
She stared at the lively flames, a question mark hovering over her face. It was clearly very late—why was the fire still going? Could someone be awake...?
“Hik...!”
While she was looking around, her thoughts froze. Her eyes had met those of the boy sitting in front of the campfire. He looked at her with a puzzled gaze and murmured.
“...Violet?”
Hair and eyes as black as if the night sky itself had been melted down. Faint dark circles under his eyes, a face steeped in exhaustion. The most infamous student in the entire academy—the ruined young master, Raiden Lisite.
“...Hic.”
Violet let out an involuntary hiccup and slowly turned her body away. She began to retreat, step by step, back toward the tent—
“What are you doing?”
“Hic.”
Raiden had been watching her actions with a flat stare. His tone carried a hint of disbelief. Violet flinched violently and shrank in on herself. The rumors she had heard, combined with his naturally cold demeanor, still terrified her. He was the eldest son of one of the Three Great Ducal Houses. Even if he had been stripped of his position as heir and reduced to the family’s problem child, he was still far beyond the reach of a mere commoner like her.
“......”
“......”
Raiden observed the way she cowered for a moment, then let out a deep sigh. He tossed one of the logs he was holding into the fire and spoke indifferently.
“...Come and sit down.”
“...Come and sit down.”
“......?”
At my call, Violet tilted her head as if she hadn’t understood. I frowned slightly and repeated myself.
“I said, come sit.”
“...!”
Only then did she snap out of it. She jumped in surprise and quickly sat down beside me.
...I hadn’t specifically told her to sit next to me. Well, it didn’t matter.
I tapped the ash from the deathweed cigarette between my lips, then ground it out against the dirt. Glancing sideways at the girl now seated beside me, I asked,
“Looks like you woke up from a bad dream.”
“Ah, y-yes— I mean, y-yesh...”
Her pronunciation had gone completely rigid. Her tongue was so tangled from nerves that the words barely made it out. Come to think of it, she had mentioned she was terrible with people. But this level of anxiety... it felt like looking at myself in my previous life, and the thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.
I offered a faint, wry smile and quietly rubbed my lips. That was when my gaze fell on her face. Purple hair cut to shoulder length, shadowed eyes, irises that held only the faintest trace of life. And the pure-white bandage covering most of the right side of her face.
“......”
I felt my mood sink. I had noticed the faint tear tracks on her cheeks and beneath her eyes. And I had noticed that the bandage over her right eye was damp.
I stared silently at those traces of sorrow, then lowered my voice.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“...Pardon?”
“You’ve got tear marks on your face.”
“Ah! Th-this is...! I-it’s nothing...!”
She frantically rubbed at her eyes, shaking her head. Between her hurried fingers I caught a glimpse of what looked like a brand-new bandage.
“That bandage...?”
“Ah... this, this is... I have to keep it clean, so I was going to change it...”
Violet tried to hide the roll of gauze against her chest as she mumbled. I nodded in understanding.
“I see... so you came outside to change your bandage.”
In the original story she had been extremely reluctant to let anyone see what was beneath the bandages. She must have been afraid someone inside the tent might wake up and see her, so she had slipped out here.
With a trembling voice she asked me,
“U-um... c-can I... get up now...?”
“Why?”
“Hiiik...!”
When I looked at her with slightly chilled eyes, Violet recoiled in fright and dropped back onto the log.
“I-I’m sorry...!”
“...I only asked for a reason.”
“W-well... to change the bandage I need to be alone... the area under it is t-too hideous... I can’t show it to anyone...”
She was babbling now, completely flustered. The purple-haired girl fumbling through her words somehow gave off the impression of someone simple-minded.
“...So! To change the bandage, I need to move somewhere else!”
Having finished her long-winded explanation, Violet looked at me with desperate eyes. I paused for a moment, then answered.
“Fine. Change it.”
“Y-yes! Th-thank you!”
Only after receiving permission did her expression relax. She started to stand—
Unfortunately for her, I had no intention of letting her leave.
“Where are you going?”
“Huh? To change my bandage... into the f-forest...”
“I believe I only said ‘change it.’”
I had never told her she could leave. Violet realized this a beat too late; her face began to stiffen again.
“...Pardon? Then... how am I supposed to...”
“Change it. Right here. In front of me.”
I answered her question simply. Violet’s already pale face slowly drained of all color.
At that same moment, on the opposite side of the island.
Deep within the forest, a short distance from the tourist site known as the Grave of Stars, a savage atmosphere reigned.
Ting...!Kagagak!Thud!Pabak!!
Between the chilly autumn winds, the sharp sounds of blades clashing echoed. The one creating that brutal noise was none other than Lucas Landranto, the homeroom professor of Class Raphael.
He stood with a short sword in each hand, facing off against a group of unidentified undead knights.
Kigigigik...!Boom!!
“Damn it...!”
Even the predawn air seemed to be asleep as the violent traces of battle carved themselves into the night. Lucas dodged the arrows flying at him from every direction, breathing harshly. Before him, death itself charged forward, radiating a hideous aura.
He had no time to catch his breath. He had to keep moving.
“Reflect!!”
Reflect
The moment he chanted, the incoming arrows reversed direction. They shot back at terrifying speed and pierced straight through the heads of the lead undead.
Thud. Thunk.
Lucas didn’t miss the opening. He followed up instantly. Blue mana swirled along the short swords in his hands. In the blink of an eye, magic manifested and fused. Two elements melted together to create a new type of strike.
One was Light. The other was Ignite.
A seventh-tier purification spell derived from the application of mid-tier magic.
“Supernova Explosion!”
Supernova Explosion
KWAAAAAAA—!!!
When Lucas swung his brilliantly glowing blades, an explosive sword energy swept over the area and swallowed the knights whole. The undead touched by the searing light of purification melted away one after another.
“Haah... haah...”
Lucas retreated, panting. The undead knights seemed momentarily suppressed by his momentum; they paused to regroup. In that brief window he tried to contact the camp using the emergency communication artifact.
But...
Click. Click. Click...
The line was dead. Lucas hurled the unresponsive device away in irritation, then gripped his swords again and muttered.
“This... is troublesome.”
So his bad premonition had been correct. After running around on reconnaissance all night, the last place he visited just happened to spit out these things.
“What exactly are they...?”
The flow of mana had been normal. He hadn’t sensed any magi either. Yet here they were—undead that gave off no magi. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of monstrous being had created them.
Clack, clack, clack...
The undead knights began advancing again, pressing Lucas. He let out a dry laugh and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“At least... they’re within the range I can somehow handle. That’s fortunate.”
The situation was poor. He had only prepared light gear for a simple reconnaissance mission, so his equipment was lacking. He had been injured in the first ambush, making escape impossible. Even his mana was beginning to run dry.
Still, Lucas was a teacher at Reynolds Academy—the head instructor at the continent’s greatest educational institution. Even under these unreasonable conditions, he was slowly seizing the upper hand.
The total number of enemies at first contact was eighty-seven... factoring in the ones I just destroyed, there should be roughly twenty left.
His stamina was precarious, but if he was willing to sacrifice a finger or two, he could probably survive.
If I get hurt... Master will be sad...
Lucas pictured the woman he loved and furrowed his brow. Still, it was better than becoming a corpse. With that thought, he was about to throw himself at the remaining knights when—
“That’s enough. Stop right there.”
An overwhelming aura, origin unknown, crushed down on Lucas.