Tiger. (1)
In the forest of the untamed lands, where demonic energy seethes and living demon trees twist amid their thorny vines, Allen sits.
"One... two... three...."
He gazes at the sky, counting the stars.
Those tiny yet vast fragments twinkling from some distant world. Allen closes his eyes, pondering the future of himself and his kin.
"You're on a mission, but it's fine to step away like this?"
A voice calls out. Allen turns toward it.
"Take this."
Lilia Premien. The woman once praised by the elder as having the qualities to become her people's guiding light. She hands him a stack of documents.
"Burn it as soon as you've read it."
"......"
[Altiegue Village Report: Terror Incidents by the Altiegue Tribe]
[Altiegue Detention Camp Management and Prisoner Execution Protocol]
[Betan's 'Distinction Magic' Development]
[Detention Camp Gas Chamber Proposal]
[Rohalak Expansion]
Four topics in total. Classified documents tied to the systematic oppression of the Altiegue. Allen picks one.
"Gas chamber?"
"A sealed space filled with toxic gas. A mad plan to stuff our kin inside and slaughter them."
Allen falls silent. No matter how he thinks about it, he can't comprehend.
How long has the continent been like this? Is the Altiegue's sin simply being born Altiegue?
"How long do you plan to keep playacting by Deculein's side? Once this legislation passes, it'll be too late."
Allen looks at Premien. Her face is expressionless, but he can sense the turmoil beneath.
"Do you know what the Professor said to me?"
Allen says. Premien shakes her head.
"His name's all over those agendas. Plenty of facts show he approved them himself."
"Not the gas chamber, though."
"......Anyway. It's true he consents to the oppression. He's butchered enough Altiegue to fill a truck."
To the hidden Altiegue, Deculein's name means more than the grim reaper. Many would choose to die mauled by a tiger over being caught by him.
"He even sent children to Rohalak."
"But no kids have died there. And the Professor said kids are different. In any era, any moment, kids are never at fault."
"......"
Premien clicks her tongue.
Why has the coldest one among them changed like this? What on earth did he see in Deculein?
"The higher-ups want the Professor assassinated."
"No. The elder wouldn't order that—"
"Elesol wants it. Your blood kin."
"......"
Allen stares at Premien.
Elesol. A name he hasn't heard in ages.
"The elder hasn't long left. With Kariksel in Rohalak, the Altiegue will follow Elesol now."
"Assassinating the Professor will just make the oppression worse."
"We're prepared for war. Better than watching our kin choke in gas like dogs."
Premien feels the tension tightening day by day.
Betan's distinction magic. That damned Blood Demon will soon reach even mid-level officials.
"Gas chambers, Allen. No history on this continent records humans massacring like this."
Allen replies dryly.
"......What do you think, Premien? Do you want me to kill the Professor?"
"......"
Premien doesn't answer. Truth be told, Deculein lingers in her memory as something special, so she meets Allen's gaze steadily before shaking her head.
"Get out by winter's end. Recor Dak makes for a natural exit. New identity's already set. And even without you, Elesol will go after Deculein anyway."
"......Time to head back."
Allen rises. He takes one step, closing thousands of meters in that stride.
In other words, he vanishes from the forest.
"......"
Left alone, Premien checks her watch.
4:13 a.m.
Deculein must be waking soon.
Scratch, scratch— scratch, scratch—
I'm drafting formulas and magic circles with my fountain pen. The finale of the Advanced Lectures: the remote exam.
[1. The following is a magic circle applying the Iron Man's theory. Interpret it correctly and describe the magic's utility and predicted results.]
The essence of everything I've taught, distilled into one question. If there were an answer key—and if the students submitted proper responses—it would stretch longer and grander than any thesis.
The difficulty? I can proudly call it infernal.
Scratch, scratch— scratch, scratch—
Seven pages of exam questions so far. Roughly 5,000 mana spent.
Planning six questions, none finished yet. Probably need over 80,000 mana and nearly two weeks.
Scratch, scratch— scratch, scratch—
Half my mana drained into Understanding, I check the clock.
5:00 a.m.
Knock knock—
A knock at the perfect moment. I open the door.
"Professor. Good morning."
The visitor beyond the threshold bows at an angle.
"......Premien? What brings you?"
"I have agendas. May I enter?"
I nod. She strides in and sits.
"......"
"......"
A brief silence. I scan the security vice-director's attire up and down.
Like some Eskimo. Thick puffer jacket, fur-lined hat.
"You hate the cold?"
"Yes."
"Thought you were from the north."
"I hate the cold. Even northerners can."
"......Right."
Premien places crystal orbs on the desk. Three in total.
"Remote conference on Sylvia. If you can join, please."
Linked to intelligence and security officials, no doubt. Sudden, but I promised consultations on Sylvia myself.
"......Very well."
"Yes. Connecting now."
I nod, and she infuses mana into the orbs.
"Ahh. Can you hear me, Director?"
─......
"Ahh. Director. Ahh."
─......
"Hey."
—Hm? I hear you. Premien?
"......Yes. The Professor is here."
—Ah! Professor. Good to see you. Security Director Dron.
"Likewise."
Premien connects the second orb. Intelligence this time.
—Greetings, Professor. Intelligence. Per our protocols, no rank or name. Understood?
"Irrelevant. To business."
—Yes. Proposing heightened surveillance on Sylvia.
"Reason."
—Confirmed contact between Sylvia and Rohakan.
I listen silently, face impassive. Premien tries reading me—amusing.
—Rohakan: black beast-class criminal. Knowing his identity and collaborating makes one a legal surveillance target. Sylvia's done it multiple times. Collusion.
"Evidence?"
—Yes. With Premien.
I glance at Premien. She pulls photos from her coat.
Sylvia, Idnik talking with Rohakan in an inn.
Intelligence's direct catch.
—Your thoughts?
"......Intelligence took these?"
—Tip-off evidence.
"No lunatic photographs an inn then tips it off."
—......
"Undignified paparazzi work. If caught, high-rankers in that inn would bomb you. Hide your faces."
—Yes.
Tsk— I click my tongue.
"Regardless, solid context with Rohakan means heightened surveillance is natural."
—Yes. Agreed.
What Intelligence wanted.
"But minimize physical or close surveillance."
—Yes. Targets aren't just them. Vice-Director Premien?
Premien hands more photos.
Endless evidence from that puffy jacket.
"......"
I examine them wordlessly.
—Same. Floating Island inn. Red Garnet adventurers.
Inn table. Ganesha facing Rohakan.
No issue so far. Ganesha's no named mark Intelligence would gun down lightly.
However.
—Might be unfamiliar beside Ganesha. Lia, Leo, Karos. All from the archipelago.
I set the photo down. Mood sinks seeing Yuarra's lookalike; rage surges at the half-demon face.
—All transacted with Rohakan.
"......So? What of it? Unrelated to me."
Premien answers.
"They're here in Recor Dak now."
"......They are? Certain?"
Brow furrows naturally. Premien nods calmly.
"Yes. Contacted them myself."
—Professor deemed empire's sole mage capable of facing Rohakan. They might be heading to him. Your efforts would earn fitting imperial reward from Her Majesty Sophien.
Sole mage to face Rohakan... He'd shred me if at full power.
Adrienne's rift with officials excluded her, perhaps.
"Reported to Her Majesty?"
—Not yet.
I look at Premien again.
"You contacted them—then let them go?"
"No. You're ignoring. Would I?"
Premien raises her arm. Mana flickers on her fingers.
"Attached a 'leash' to the kids. Still in Recor Dak."
"......"
I nod.
"We'll wait. Culling's ongoing—no need for commotion."
"Yes. Where shall I stay, Professor? Your orders."
Premien asks, brazenly.
"Any prison cell."
"Yes. This manor looks spacious."
"......"
"The parlor suffices. Thank you."
Premien bows slightly, then clomps downstairs.
─Yes. This manor looks spacious. The parlor suffices. Thank you.
Sylvia opens her eyes quietly. She'd just heard Premien and Deculein's talk.
"......Altiegue."
But more crucial was what came before.
Sylvia suspected Premien's sudden northern appearance, surveilling her secretly.
What she uncovered.
"Premien's Altiegue. Deculein's assistant is Altiegue too."
Can't blame their carelessness. No one survives Mieolji's demon forest; no ears to hear.
And Sylvia's Wind magic, honed solely for Deculein, is now imperceptible save to near-archmages.
"......"
Altiegue by Deculein. Altiegue with grudge against him. Altiegue ordering his death, lurking at his feet.
Sylvia closes her eyes. Thinks deeply.
"No."
But she can't stand by.
No—she mustn't.
Deculein must die by my hand. Only I have that right.
Won't yield to mere Altiegue.
"......"
She rises slowly. Exits her underground shelter, ascends to the surface.
A white, frigid world.
Sylvia walks the snow-covered road leisurely.
Crunch— crunch—
Trampling and marring the piled snow.
......
Meanwhile, in the untamed lands where a campfire crackles, Ifrin counts monsters hunted with her team.
"One two three four five six...... We've got thirty-three."
Thirty-three total. Solid merit. Makes her proud.
"What about you all?"
Ifrin asks Julie's team, whom they joined by chance.
Julie replies curtly.
"Mm. Thirty-one. Congratulations on your win."
"Hehe. Ah, food's almost ready."
Ifrin pulls potatoes and a pot from the fire. Menu: chicken soup and ketchup-roasted potatoes.
"Here, here. Dig in~"
As Ifrin portions food, Gwen—dazed beside Drent—snaps her fingers like she remembered something.
Pulls papers from her coat.
"Right. Julie. Wanna read this?"
"......What's this?"
"Mage scouting report. You don't know. There's more than just Deculein."
"Ah!"
Ifrin perks up. Hands Syrio potatoes and soup, scurries over.
"Can I see too? Professor's report......"
Excited, then glances at Julie.
Julie shakes her head nonchalantly.
"Fine. Let's read together."
"Ah, yes...... Thank you!"
Ifrin sidles cautiously beside her.
Classified. Don't mention I showed you.
They nod at Gwen's words, about to read the luxurious report—
Grrrrrrrrrrrooooowl─────!
A savage roar shakes the earth.
Both teams bulge eyes, stiffen, grab weapons. Aura cloaks their bodies.
"......"
"......"
Sudden, terrifying silence descends.
Ifrin knows what that cry was.
"T-ti-tiger......"
Her bracelet glows multicolored. Having faced a tiger's might in the Voice, breath catches.
"Shh. Don't panic. Fortunately, it's distant."
───────!
A vibration tearing heaven and earth, mana waves spreading like gale.
Whoosh......
Slow wind sweeps their bodies. Pride and mana within sharp as blades.
"Guys? This ain't a joke."
Now everyone's unnerved. Goosebumps prickle knights like Julie, Gwen, Syrio too.
"Mountain Lord?"
Debrun says gravely.
Ifrin startles.
"Moun—tain Lord?"
Mountain Lord. The ultimate tiger. Even Archmage Demakan or guardian knight Geffrid can't guarantee victory...
"No. Not a Mountain Lord. We'd have less worry if it were."
Julie says. True—Mountain Lords don't provoke humans or beasts, nor roar so wildly.
Transcended the mortal world, like immortals.
"......Great Tiger."
Gwen says.
Great Tiger: step before Mountain Lord. Still worldly, boss flaunting strength.
"Roar sounds like a Wicked Tiger among them."
"Ah, Wicked Tiger......"
Ifrin's breathing labors.
Wicked Tiger: literally evil tigers. Fight anything they meet, smash and kill. Vicious hearts.
Beast far deadlier than mana beasts.
Grrrrrrrr──────!
Third roar. Distant ridge erupts in massive blast. Mana boils, warping the entire mountainside.
"That's definitely Great Tiger. Retreat for now. I'll inform other teams."
Julie grabs her crystal orb. Everyone heard the roar, but protocol demands central report.
"Julie here. Spotted Great Tiger......"
Then, alarm bells in her mind. Sudden brush of death.
Julie hoists Ifrin fastest. Gwen grabs Drent.
Syrio readies to run.
Kwaaaaaaaa───!
Horizontal lightning streaks. Flash pulverizes terrain, charges.
Earthquake warps space; mana-and-blood-shrouded monstrosity arrives. Yellow-glowing irises glare. Eerie menace radiates.
Grrrrroowl──!
Tiger charges without afterimage.
"What the hell!"
From afar, reaches Julie's group in under a second.
House-sized beast lunges, jaws agape......