Transformation Is a Maid's Basic Skill
The brief weekend had passed, and the sun rose to announce Monday's arrival.
Ordinarily, the morning walk to school was a grim parade of despair and silent screams. Today, however, the path brimmed with laughter and bright, restless anticipation. The reason for the students' unusual excitement was easy enough to guess: field training for the first-years began today.
The classes assigned to the Allied Nations had already finished their travel over the weekend, and some of the groups headed for the various kingdoms had departed for their destinations as early as Friday. The only first-years still remaining in Lyceum were those bound for the Empire—and classes like ours, destined for the royal capital.
Thanks to that, the usually bustling school road was remarkably quiet. The Empire-bound classes had the railway, so their delayed departure made sense. But why were the capital-bound classes still here in Lyceum as well? The other kingdom-bound groups had already left. Leaving only the capital-bound classes—including ours—behind felt strange. The capital might be close to Lyceum, but even so, they should have set out by Saturday at the latest… It was a rather puzzling detail.
"By the way, Blanc."
"Yes, Young Mistress?"
"Why are you walking to school in a maid uniform?"
At her words, I glanced down at my attire. Today's school outfit was not that repulsive academy uniform (though of course the Young Mistress looked beautiful in hers), but a noble and exquisite maid's dress.
"Did you put it on by accident? Heh. Even the always-perfect Blanc makes the occasional mistake."
"No, Young Mistress. It was no mistake."
An academy student arriving at school in anything other than the uniform would strike anyone—my Young Mistress included—as an obvious error. But for a Super Perfect☆Maid such as myself to commit a mistake? Unthinkable. Wearing the maid uniform right now was no accident. On the contrary: walking to school dressed as a maid was living proof that I had ascended to an even more perfect form of maidhood.
"Hold it! You! Coming to school in a maid uniform—what do you think you're doing?!"
The moment we reached the school gate, an upperclassman who appeared to belong to the disciplinary committee came charging toward me, shouting. Heh. Perfect timing. There could be no better moment to unveil the birth of a True Super Perfect☆Maid to the world…!
"Bokja."
"Wha—?! Wh-what is this?! Shadows all of a sudden—!"
At my brief summons, the shadow beneath my feet rippled, and in an instant Bokja surged up and wrapped itself around my body. The sudden materialization of shadow drew the eyes of the disciplinary student and every other student on their way to school.
Ah… Everyone, please bless this moment. The birth of a True Super Perfect☆Maid requires nothing less…!
"Blanc?"
The moment the disciplinary student rushed her, Blanc suddenly called out Bokja. For a second I thought she meant to hide inside it and escape the trouble, but something about Bokja was different from usual.
Normally, when Blanc slipped into Bokja's body to travel, the shadow took the form of a giant dog, swallowed her whole, and vanished into the ground. This time, though, Bokja did not become a dog. It remained a mist-like haze that simply coiled around her frame.
Blanc's shadow magic was stranger even than my White Flame Arts, which combine sacred magic and fire. She did not merely wield shadows as limbs—she gave the shadows themselves life. Even Grandfather, who had seen every kind of magic imaginable, had found Blanc's power remarkable.
I had thought three years of constant proximity had taught me everything about her shadow magic. I never expected her to spring a technique I had never seen before!
"There. With this, there should be no problem at all, correct?"
"Uh… uhhh…?! Y-yeah…"
The dazzling shadow had enveloped Blanc for barely two seconds. In that fleeting span, her clothes shifted from maid uniform to academy uniform!
A transformation…?!
Did Blanc just transform?!
Heh. I can feel it. I can feel every gaze turning toward me!
"Heh heh…"
Not long ago, during mock combat training, Miss Fel had demonstrated transformation magic and received an ecstatic response from everyone around her. Watching that, I had thought: if I too could perform a transformation, would I not draw people's eyes just as easily? Capture their attention and, more effectively than ever, preach the perfection and nobility of the maid? Then I might recruit far more new maids than simply Miss Mist or Miss Did!
With that conclusion reached, I resolved at once to master transformation magic. Miss Fel's technique, however, was a peculiar art possible only because she could take a spirit into her own body. I possessed some talent as a spirit-seer—I could perceive and sense spirits—but I could not house one within myself the way she could.
Still, as the saying goes: if you can't have chicken, make do with pheasant. I had no spirit, but I did have something even more capable than a spirit—my shadow, Bokja.
"So, Bokja. Transform me."
"Kiiiiiing…"
Instead of obeying, Bokja only made a pitiful whining noise and seemed to shake its head, as if declaring the task impossible. Impossible—for the shadow of a Super Perfect☆Maid? Absurd. I immediately ran to the market, bought one hundred cucumbers (Bokja tried to interfere the whole way; I ignored every attempt), and forced the entire lot down its throat.
Reeling from the cucumber stench rising from its gullet, Bokja rolled across the ground. After about ten minutes, it finally discovered a way to transform me.
If it cannot be done, make it possible. If it still cannot be done, you simply have not tried hard enough. The old sayings never lie.
The transformation method Bokja devised was as follows:
1. Bokja turns into mist and wraps around me.
2. While Bokja conceals my body, I strip with all possible speed.
3. I dress with all possible speed.
To any onlooker, it would look as though a cloud of violet mist had enveloped me and my clothes had suddenly changed!
Huh? You call that a transformation? That's just a costume change?
Then what, pray tell, is the difference between this and a magical-girl transformation?! Magical girls have spirits strip them and dress them in new outfits, don't they?! Transformation is nothing more than a spectacular change of clothes!
Clap clap clap!
The students who had witnessed my magnificent transformation—especially the girls—began to applaud with fervent enthusiasm. No one shed tears of pure emotion the way they had for Miss Fel's magical-girl transformation, but this level of reaction was more than satisfying. Better still, with this magic in hand, I could spend far more time in my beloved maid uniform instead of that detestable school uniform! From now on I could wear the maid dress on the way to school and on the way home! I could don a maid uniform anytime, anywhere!
With this, Super Perfect☆Maid Blanc-chan had evolved one step further into True Super Perfect☆Maid Blanc-chan!
The only slight regret was that I had transformed from maid uniform into academy uniform, rather than the other way around. Had it been uniform-to-maid, the beauty of the maid dress itself would have drawn every eye. Maid-to-uniform, unfortunately, focused attention only on the fact that "a maid can transform." Still… this much should be enough. Being able to wear the maid uniform on the school road and spread the greatness of maids among the people—that was satisfaction enough. Wanting more than this would simply be greed.
"Blanc…"
At the Young Mistress's voice I turned. She was staring at me with sparkling eyes full of pure admiration.
Yes! Learning to change clothes—no, to transform—really was the right decision!
Heh… Truly magnificent…♥︎
Another tiresome walk to school. Sudden enthusiastic applause erupted behind me; when I turned, a silver-haired girl and a black-haired girl stood at the center of the commotion.
Those two again.
Between the massive club-dissolution incident last time and everything else, I had lost count of how many disasters they managed to cause in such a short span. Their victims had already saddled them with nicknames like Black Demon and White Demon. Outwardly they were refined, and their everyday conduct was equally polished—yet somehow they still left chaos in their wake. It was enough to make one wonder whether all that dignity and etiquette was pure performance, and whether some mania for manufacturing incidents seethed underneath.
"Oh! Desang!"
Instead of our familiar classroom, we had been directed to the open field where the mock battles had recently gathered us. A hearty voice greeted me. I turned toward the sound and found a boy of such enormous build that it was hard to believe we were the same age, waving at me.
Kelon Fon Gros. We had become friendly after the recent mock combat. He strode over as if it were the most natural thing in the world and tried to sling an arm over my shoulder; I sidestepped, and the attempt failed. Gros looked at me with faintly wounded eyes. Building camaraderie between nobles of the same Kingdom of Alphaz was no bad thing—but Gros's shoulder-to-shoulder greeting was simply dangerous. The last time he had managed it, my shoulder had dislocated. Even recalling it made me shudder.
I averted my gaze from Gros's unconcealed disappointment, and far off two commoners talking among themselves entered my field of view. By chance they both looked my way at the same moment—
"Tch…"
"Ha!"
—and my eyes locked with that damned one's. Clicking his tongue the instant he saw someone's face. An utterly unpleasant creature. He interfered with everything I did and did nothing but complain. Were commoners these days all this insolent?
"Ah… h-hello, Oblia…"
No—looking at the commoner speaking with that bastard, Arca, drew a sigh of an entirely different sort. The archery skill he had shown during the mock battle had been impressive even by the standards of a martial house's heir, yet the owner of that skill was so timid. Becoming as arrogant as the commoner beside him would be a problem, but this complete lack of confidence in his own ability was equally troublesome.
"Hm? Are we the last ones?"
"It would seem so, Young Mistress."
While I was still swallowing a sigh over the two commoners, the pair who had caused the stir at the school gate finally arrived at the field. The time was 8:50. Considering that school began at nine, the entire class had gathered relatively early. Now we only needed our homeroom teacher—though recalling that teacher's usual habits filled me with nothing but dread.
"Everyone's here early, huh?"
And that uneasy premonition proved entirely correct. Thirty minutes late, yet strolling toward us with perfect composure—the Sage. A flash of irritation surged through me, but I forced it down. Challenging a Sage would only end in my own loss.