Real Combat. (3)
Ifrin stared blankly at that sentence.
[However, Ifrin gets penalty points.]
"……."
For the moment, even this extremely critical situation was forgotten. Her penalty points floated in the air before her eyes.
-14 points.
If she racked up even one more point here, she'd be on cleaning duty every single day. The worst bathroom, too.
A little more, and if it went over 25 points, her dormitory scholarship would be revoked. Estimated loss: a whopping 50,000... per semester.
Ifrin hurriedly grabbed the chalk.
[Professor Deculein is an idiot. Ifrin didn't do it.]
The reply came immediately.
[Who did it then?]
"……."
She hesitated, pondered, then finally moved the chalk.
[Sylvia]
"What's going on?"
Sylvia approached. Ifrin jolted like a carriage snagged on a rock.
"Huh? Oh, uh, th-this!"
She frantically erased the writing with her robe sleeve and blurted out,
"This chalkboard seems connected to Professor Deculein! That's what Ifrin thinks!"
"……?"
Thankfully, Sylvia didn't seem to catch on to her scheme. She just widened her eyes and stared at the chalkboard.
"What's the matter? Why the chalkboard again?"
"Iffie, what's wrong?"
Lucia and Julia arrived late as well. The other mages had no attention to spare for the chalkboard.
────!
A massive shock rocked the lecture hall again. Ifrin hurriedly sent a message.
[This isn't the time. We don't know the barrier code, and the lecture hall's about to collapse.]
Then, a cipher spell began to write itself on the chalkboard.
Tap─ tatap─ taptaptap─
The regular, neat sound of writing.
A cipher spell made of circles and lines.
────!
The wall groaned under the tremendous blow. The damage was accumulating, slowly crumpling it like a plank of wood.
Some mages had already fainted, most trembled in fear, but Ifrin, Sylvia, and Lucia only stared at the chalkboard.
────!
The dozens upon dozens of echoes.
The wall was on the verge of collapse.
[Activate the spell.]
The cipher spell was complete.
Sylvia moved first. She radiated mana, drawing the spell on the lecture hall floor.
Whoooooooom…….
The A-Class lecture hall, its floor and ceiling entirely made of mana stones. The cipher unlocked the crystal orb—the mana source—and the barrier opened.
Thud…….
The pounding on the wall faded, and the space flipped in an instant.
A peaceful meadow swallowed the darkness of ash.
So this was the might of an A-Class lecture hall, one that cost ten million elne just to build.
"Phew……."
Ifrin collapsed in a heap, stroking her pounding chest.
"……."
Sylvia let out a shallow breath and looked at the chalkboard. Deculein's words were appearing.
[Do not panic. Calm yourself and focus on the situation. This is not a lesson—it is real combat. Not a dream, but reality.]
Then Lucia spoke.
"Ask when rescue's coming."
Deculein replied before she could even finish.
[With hundreds of debutantes held hostage, entry from outside is impossible.]
[The best option is for you to resolve it yourselves.]
"What? What kind of irresponsible nonsense is that?"
At that moment, Sylvia's sharp gaze bore down. Lucia flinched and shrugged.
[External analysis of mana density per floor suggests the source of this incident is estimated at the '23rd floor.']
"Who's on the 23rd floor?"
Ifrin looked around as she asked.
Hmm~ Lucia crossed her arms, pondering, then answered.
"Dunno. There's an office for one external adjunct professor up there, but I'm not sure."
…….
The ash-corrupted 23rd floor had transformed into a massive nest. At its center pulsed a giant cocoon, with spiderwebs stretching everywhere, seemingly feeding it nutrients.
─Listen…….
Ruina heard a parched, crumbling voice from within the cocoon.
─Complete erosion is necessary…….
Complete erosion meant devouring the brains of ash-dominated debutantes. It would absorb all their mana and nutrients, but they would never revive.
─Complete erosion is necessary…….
"No."
That's why Ruina refused. Even having allowed the ash parasite, her core personality remained firm. Her convictions held her instincts in check.
─Complete erosion is necessary…….
Ruina opened her eyes. Her blackened pupils scanned the cocoon's membrane. The world was dark, mana infinite.
─Complete erosion is…….
Thwack!
Ruina punched the cocoon. The noisy voice stopped, but her rage surged fiercer.
In her fraying consciousness, one face surfaced.
She murmured the name.
"Deculein……."
Three chocolates. Two large soda bottles. Two squid packs. One jelly. Five snack bags. Two cream puffs. One gum pack. Five tangerines.
Ifrin laid out the rations on the meadow table.
For five people, it was quite a lot... but...
"How many of us are there?"
No one answered. More than half were asleep.
"……."
She understood. They'd been through hell.
Sylvia replied.
"51."
51.
The number was bad enough, but the real issue was consumption. Mages with mana in their bodies had basal metabolisms rivaling burly farmers.
"……Sigh."
With no choice, Ifrin wrote with the chalk.
[We won't last long in here. Our food's too low. So I'm thinking of heading to the basement vending area...]
The reply was swift.
[Check the supply cabinet at the back of the lecture hall.]
Ifrin turned. The space had changed due to the barrier, but the cabinet and fixtures remained.
She rushed over and opened the door.
"Oh, ooh!"
Frozen meat, water, canned goods—plenty of food stocked. If rationed, enough for two days.
Ifrin murmured in admiration.
"How did that professor know about this...?"
"He prepared it in advance, idiot. The tower's always a target. Just make the food."
Hmph! Lucia snorted and flicked Ifrin's hair. Ifrin bit her lip and glared.
"What're you glaring at? You gonna do it? I don't know how to cook."
"……You're really hopeless even in this situation?"
The moment Ifrin rolled up her sleeves in fury—
[Rest for now. We're devising a plan from outside.]
[If infighting breaks out inside, penalties will be assigned based on witness accounts.]
"……."
How does he know?
No choice. Ifrin growled but prepared the meal. She lit a fire with magic, grilled meat over it, boiled soup, and set it on the table.
The fragrant aroma woke the mages one by one.
The Yukline manor warehouse, right after leaving the imperial palace.
[We ate. Resting now.]
[The monsters are all our classmates, so we can't deal with them. And there's an external adjunct professor's office on the 23rd floor.]
"……Ruina."
I glared at the chalkboard standing.
The Ash Baron parasitizing Ruina was a major issue, and a mystery.
Ruina should be a named with mana grade '3'.
"The blood oath, perhaps."
Did the blood oath affect her mana grade?
Or had torment from me weakened her mentally?
Either way, it wasn't all bad. The lagging Ash Baron couldn't fully erode her.
Knock knock─
Roy entered right on cue.
"Master. They're all here."
"Bring them in."
"Yes."
Roy brought the professors I'd summoned.
But as I moved to greet them, I frowned.
"……Chief Professor. We're here."
The solemn murmurers were tenured professors like Rellin and others. The promising young ones I'd wanted, like Kelodan, cowered behind.
"Here is the ash gathered by the knights."
Rellin offered a vial of ash.
I planned to analyze and understand this ash, then craft custom magic. With the Ash Baron in Ruina, ordinary methods wouldn't suffice.
"Call on us anytime if you need help!"
Equipment flooded the warehouse: microscopes, tables, mana stones, related grimoires, magic tools—all shipped from the floating islands.
I neatly arranged it all with Telekinesis. Thud thud thud─ In moments, it became a tower lab.
I couldn't stand filth or inefficiency.
"Ooh! Impressive! Just say the word for any help!"
"……Help would be good."
I replied to Rellin. He took a solemn breath.
"Yes. The unprecedented tower attack. We're prepared—"
"Only you three."
I pointed to the young professors blinking from the back.
"Stay."
Glasses Kelodan, harmony expert Jennifer, ex-addict Grant.
(Allen seems trapped inside, but I'm not worried.)
"The rest may go."
"……Pardon?"
Too many cooks spoil the broth. Better exclude the politicking fame-seekers draining the juniors' morale.
"Ch-Chief Professor? They're inexperienced, not enough seniority—"
"Ah. I misspoke."
I nodded; Rellin's face brightened.
"Tenured professors, monitor the tower's condition nearby. It's vital. If worse happens, you'll be needed there."
"……."
I Telekinesis-shoved the gaping tenured profs out.
Then silently surveyed the rest.
"Wh-what should we do?"
Kelodan asked cautiously.
"What else."
I dropped dozens of grimoires on their desks. All on 'puppetization'.
Thud thud thud thud─ To their shock at the mountain,
"Summarize the essentials."
[Currently devising efficient magic against the ash.]
"Argh! Magic from scratch? That's insane! It'll take weeks!"
Lucia snapped irritably. The hall's mood sank again.
"Ask! How long do we have to wait—"
"Quiet, Dorothy."
"……!"
Lucia froze at Sylvia's murmur, holding her breath like her heart stopped, then rushed up, face-to-face.
─That name. I told you not to say it. Why suddenly again…….
"Dorothy? Who's Dorothy?"
Ifrin innocently muttered behind Lucia. She clasped her hands at Sylvia, pleading.
─Please, please…….
Lucia's alias was Lucia; her real name, Dorothy.
God, Dorothy! Too rustic—she'd begged her father to change it.
"Be quiet."
"Yes. Of course."
Sylvia shoved Lucia aside and stood abruptly.
"We'll help Professor Deculein from here."
"H-help? Sure~ I'll do that~"
Dorothy—no, Lucia—agreed before Sylvia finished. Ifrin tilted her head.
Sylvia's next words were chilling.
"We'll catch a debutante and dissect it."
……Sophien, Yekaterin Augustus von Zifre asks.
Do you know the feeling of dying every year, every day?
The despair of withering from an incurable disease unknown to the continent, groping blindly through darkness with no path ahead?
The pain as that plague devours your body?
Truly, ribs gnawed, lungs stabbed like with an awl.
Do you know the agony of reviving upon death, enduring the same torment from the start anew?
Do you know this damned curse?
I died dozens of times at eight years old. Once waited a year to die; once slit my own throat in despair.
Yet,
Die and die again,
eyes open always to
January 1st.
The eight-year-old child lies in a lavish bed, gazing out the window. The palace garden is eternally spring.
Her maturing brain ponders the fresh spring, but her body remains infantile.
That dissonance. Like trash adrift at sea, rotting yet stagnant.
Humans crave life, thrash for it.
I longed for death until the end. Even after, prayed to vanish.
Each regression, only my brother's face brought joy—
That faded too.
Endured seeing him, but reached limit.
Around me, only knightly iron, eunuch sweetness, merchant greed, doctor antiseptic, herbalist grass.
No attachment to that hellish cycle called life.
No passion. No emotion.
Impossible.
Just wished this pain-pickled life to dull entirely.
Prayed to crumble painlessly.
This continent boundless, yet trapped in cramped palace, stunted body—how wretched I.
Nay, numb even to wretchedness—how crippled…….
……Thus dying repeatedly, killing all within me,
Deculein.
Do you know me?
No.
I sought no understanding, prayed nightly only to the one who might comprehend, cursing.
You who imposed this fate and yoke, from unreachable heavens or sunless underworld depths, giggling at my boredom.
I sent my vow.
God is dead.
I will kill it.
"I must have met Deculein as a child... but he wasn't special then. Nothing eye-catching but his face."
Of course, Sophien overcame that ancient disease, survived. Countless assassinations and poisonings followed; died a few times, overcame all by dying.
Thus learned this damned regression cycles yearly.
Die at nine, restart January 1st of that year at nine; die at ten, same.
─Your Majesty speaks as if death holds no power over you.
Deculein said that.
"As if death holds no power……."
Just a roundabout on my recklessness?
"No."
His nuance differed sharply; he also said,
─I see the world a bit differently.
Sees the world differently.
Did that 'differently' include himself?
"Kairon."
"Yes."
Sophien called.
"Yukline was one of the families present 'that day'."
The disease killing her dozens of times? Poisoning. Hollow revelation.
"Yes. All continental earldoms were there."
Suspect: one of the families at her heir ascension.
Sophien planned to expose, tear limb from limb, exterminate clans.
But after three years' obsession, grew bored, dropped it.
They die once.
Kill them,
I die, regress,
revived them, kill again,
they die once.
Paltry gain for effort, world cheap trash—let it go, even revenge too tedious.
"If curious about Deculein, you must learn magic relentlessly."
Yet Kairon's voice held joy. Sophien gritted her teeth.
"Kairon. You're hardly human yourself. Once judged Deculein flawed on rumors alone."
Kairon bowed apologetically.
"……My error. Deculein was honest today. Your Majesty, who sees into hearts, knows."
Sophien eyed the desk. Deculein's left Yukline: Understanding Elemental Magic. Gold-leafed, jeweled hardcover with a note.
─Please preview up to Chapter 1.
Kairon said,
"Study now."
"……Kairon."
Sophien glared. Kairon replied expressionless.
"Yes."
"Fuck off."
She muttered, middle finger raised.
Kairon closed his eyes, feigning ignorance with a smile.
"Retiring to chambers. No visitors today."
"Take the book."
"I said fuck off."
Sophien stormed to her private quarters. Ignored court mages and officials on the 'tower incident'.
Thud─ Lay on bed, stared at ceiling. Sorted swirling thoughts.
All converged to one emotion.
……Curiosity.
"Tower incident, was it……."
A subordinate's words resurfaced.
Hmph.
Sophien snorted, rose from bed again.