Voice's World. (1)

Recor Dak has suddenly been flooded with mages. Even as Ifrin studies in the library, she has no idea why.

With supplies cut off by beasts and Altiegue, how are six or seven—or even ten at peak times—descending here every day? What could possibly draw them?

"……."

Ifrin, seated at a library table deep in her books, subtly scans her surroundings. Even excluding the palace mages who were already here, there are plenty of new faces.

"……Over there."

Tap, tap—someone nudges her shoulder. Ifrin startles and turns.

"Yes?"

"Have you finished with that, by any chance……?"

The male mage points to the book on her desk.

"Ah, yes. Almost done."

"Then could I be next in line……?"

"No real line. I'll lend it once I'm through."

"Thank you."

The underground library in Recor Dak's main building has few books. Most are back at Deculein's estate.

Thus, only four shelves, all stocked with Deculein's new writings.

"……Is this why they're coming?"

But the mages Ifrin knows aren't masochistic enough to abandon safety for Recor Dak…….

Then she spots a robed mage. She ducks behind the stacks, but Ifrin knows who it is.

That glimpse of golden ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blonde—radiant, impeccably maintained, like pure gold.

Sylvia.

"……That girl."

Well, she'd light up for books like that.

Ifrin smiles faintly but doesn't acknowledge her. She just resumes studying.

Until the next wave…….

"Yaaawn—"

She yawns, glancing around slyly.

Of course, Deculein said naps—day or night—are fine only if he's watching. As if that's humanly possible.

Ifrin slowly drifts off—

—I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠knew it.

"……!"

The sudden voice jolts her upright, eyes wide.

"Gah! A dream?!"

Everyone in the library turns to her.

The scene is real as ever; even the wooden steel doesn't react.

Not a dream, then. So what was that voice?

"This is……."

—Here.

Another voice. Ifrin jerks toward it.

The mirror on her desk.

Deculein's face inside. She stares blankly.

"P-Professor, how are you in there……."

—I've told you not to sleep alone how many times?

"It wasn't sleep, just a yawn—"

—A warning.

"……Yes, sir."

Ifrin nods glumly.

Julie visits the reclamation fields. Not even ten days post-sowing, the barley's already sprouting.

"Aigoo~ Knight's here, is she!"

Residents pause their work to approach. She gazes at the lush fields.

"Growing strong, without issue."

Recor Dak's biggest problem is food. Supplies severed, beasts multiplying, hunting harder—yet these barley fields ease her heart.

"Yessir. Should yield plenty, aye? Grains are fat ones too."

"……Yes. Thank you for your efforts."

"Heh~ No need for that. Just tryin' to eat, ma'am."

Watching their bright smiles stirs warmth and sorrow in Julie.

Can I protect them? Preserve their home with this body?

If only…….

"Hi~"

A voice from behind a tree. Julie turns.

"Ah! Captain?"

Ganesha of Red Garnet. The hero who single-handedly delayed the beasts' descent.

"Honored to meet Red Garnet's captain—"

"Skip the formalities~ Makes me shy."

She beams and approaches.

"Heard the news~ Deculein buried dozens of Altiegue alive."

"……Yes."

Julie bows her head briefly.

"Sure they were all Altiegue?"

No answer. She's disappointed in Deculein once more.

She thought disappointment had run dry, yet he always reveals a new low.

"……Even if they were Altiegue, live burial is wrong. But I knew he was that kind of man."

No verification, no thorough probe.

Forty humans buried alive.

Hanging would've been less horrific.

Live burial—abolished alongside burning in the empire's most barbaric execution…….

"Yeah, your face says it all. Anyway, that favor you asked Reyli last time~?"

"……Pardon?"

Julie's eyes widen. Ganesha repeats.

"Slipped him coin for some adventurers?"

"Yes, but to Captain Ganesha—"

"Psh. Ask Reyli, you ask me. Plus, I like you, Knight Julie~ Dozmou?"

She glances somewhere. A figure emerges from shadows.

Dozmu, Red Garnet founding member.

He hands Julie an envelope.

"He took the job. Findings: Veron likely murdered by Deculein; Rockfell's death suspicious too."

"……."

Julie peers inside.

Her breath catches.

"Rockfell's…… diary."

"Yup. Plus letters swapped with someone. Words from his family he spoke to via crystal orb. Kids: eight and seven."

Rockfell's letters are simple.

Being hunted. Need help. Deculein seems out to kill me…….

Julie tucks it all away. Not for casual eyes.

"Thank you."

"Mm. So, what's next~?"

Ganesha grins. Julie shakes her head evenly.

"I don't know yet. I want to, but…… I get he hates me now. But why Rockfell and Veron……."

Fists clench. Lip bites hard.

"Once I know everything…… even Professor Deculein will pay. I swear it."

Ganesha eyes her seriously.

"I'll dig too~"

To Ganesha, Deculein isn't just evil anymore.

Precisely: a cold-blooded man who spares no means.

Yet loves his family more than anyone.

"……Don't stress too much~ You'll need your strength soon."

Julie stiffens late.

"Yes. Understood."

Ganesha's return means the 'time' she delayed has arrived.

Boom—! Boom——! Boom————!

Drums thunder; far off, beasts advance. Scale beyond imagination. Grades fiercer than ever.

Whoosh—!

Triggered crossbows blanket Recor Dak's sky. Myriad destruction spells pound afar; auxiliary ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠winds swirl around knights on the field.

"No fear! The barrier has mages!"

Delik's rallying cry. As he says, joined mages make Recor Dak's manpower top-tier.

Until their mana depletes, the barrier holds.

Mages: siege specialists by nature.

Thud———!

Earth-shaking footfall. From winter fog emerges a colossal beast.

Ogre.

Taller than the barrier, wielding a club as massive.

"Magic support needed! Target: ogre!"

Julie shouts. Mages' barrage converges.

Kaboom——!

Destruction spells—fire and wind combo—slash air toward it.

Roooar——!

Fire pillar erupts from ogre's gut.

■■■■■—!

Guttural scream piercing eardrums.

Rage-blind ogre hurls its club.

Crunch——!

Dozens-of-meters-long behemoth weapon spins like a boomerang.

Barrier mages gape in shock…….

Shing—!

Wooden steel manifests on trajectory. Sharp metal net unfurls; club shatters on contact.

Then nineteen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠steel lances pierce ground.

Splurt——

Iron flashes skewer beasts. Wielding them: poised mage atop barrier.

Deculein.

Surveying field, he gauges enemy numbers. Eyes close—steel insufficient. Focuses mana, spirit for next spell.

Hummm…….

Vibration ominous.

Knights sense peril, fall back. Next instant—

"……!"

Ground shatters. Crust splits.

Crack— vast fissure yawns; beasts tumble in.

"What……."

"Mommy!"

Knights cling to barrier edge.

Swords sheathed, they watch in awe: Mieolji's earth cleaving, beasts plummeting.

Craaack——!

Still mid-tier Telekinesis. Yet Deculein's theory-infused, world's most efficient spell.

Power like ripping earth…….

No—like it did.

——!

Drought-cracked plates; millions of beasts jammed between. Horizon horde halved.

"……."

Delik gawks up at Deculein.

He stands serene, coat billowing, utterly unfatigued.

"……So that's his confidence. Everyone! Ready up!"

Delik grips sword.

Magic broke lines; now just mop-up…….

Late night, battle lulls. Barrier edge campfire.

"……Injured. Any injured?"

Julie hustles, seeking wounded. Knights hide their hurts by habit…….

"Over there, injured."

Syrio speaks. Julie hurries over.

"Who? I have herbs."

Syrio chuckles wryly.

"Said the injured's right there. You."

"I'm fine. Not serious."

"……Don't lie to me."

Julie silently offers herbs. Syrio shakes head.

"Not for me."

"……."

"You can't hold. Mana recovery lags battle pace; fatigue builds unspent. Your dantian’s tainted already."

"……."

Gwen approaches, drained but nodding agreement.

Today's fight was that fierce.

Syrio continues.

"Not telling you to leave. You won't. But manage yourself. This descent level for a month? Likely."

"Yes. Thank you for worrying. But……."

Julie closes, then opens eyes.

——That instant.

"Fine……?"

Scenery shifts.

Julie blinks around blankly.

Not north. Dim corridor.

"Where……."

She stumbles, hears voice.

"You came here too."

Monotone. Turning, Julie flinches.

"……Lady Ilayde?"

Ilayde heir, Sylvia. Narrowed eyes glare.

"No welcome to the Voice."

Meanwhile, I walk Voice's corridor. Ifrin beside me.

"Um, but mana’s low. Used it all blocking descent."

"……."

"Professor, that spell? Ground split open."

Ifrin chatters. I'm too drained to reply.

Truth: today's Telekinesis feat burdened me too.

Overdid the earth-flip.

"Professor. Classes here? Mages came for you. I wanna hear too."

"Quiet."

"……Jeez."

Ifrin pouts.

Step, step.

Step, step.

Silent walk.

Ifrin speaks again.

"Where we going? That you can say."

"……Voice has many places. Vast too. However."

I halt at alley. Tavern sign one block ahead.

"First, that tavern."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

Voice strategy pattern: tavern for quest, then proceed.

"Follow."

"……Yes."

I open tavern door.

Cheers, chatter, booze stench assault.

Bearable.

"……Professor?"

I grip knob, frozen.

"What?"

Blocked Ifrin asks.

"Professor? Won't go in, can't either. Not going?"

"……Ahem."

I clear throat, recheck that head through crack.

Snow-white, two drab heads.

Julie and Sylvia.

Certain.

"Professor, what? In or—"

Shut door. Glare at Ifrin deliberately.

"……Quiet. Thinking."

"……Sorry."

Ifrin bows.

I ponder at door.

Sylvia aside, why Julie with her? Story progress? Quest tie-in……?

"……Fine."

Whatever. Tavern first. Avoiding people—even her—ain't me.

"In."

"Yes."

I open with Ifrin.