Winter
Winter
"Fucking demon bastard."
The ring Esmue gave me was definitely on my index finger, but for some reason I felt a strange foreignness not just in my index finger but my middle finger too. I'd never experienced this sensation before, but what it meant was obvious.
To come all the way to the very, very end and cast a curse? I recalled that Demonfolk bastard who got hit with one curse gone wrong and went mad without even being able to die, and it gave me chills for a moment.
"Fucking unreasonable for real. You completed a curse in that short an instant?"
A curse normally demanded some kind of preparation unless you poured in a mountain of sacrifices. Even staking hundreds of human lives as collateral still came with restrictions. Yet that bastard had whipped one up on the spot as casually as roasting beans. I had no idea whether it was thanks to all the blood she had consumed to possess a body, but from where I stood, killing her twice still would not have been enough.
After internally hurling an entire bowl of curses at the dead demon, I sheathed my sword, slung Siegfried's greatsword roughly over my shoulder, and, gripping the needle, slowed my descent bit by bit in a state that would've made Siegfried lose his mind if he saw it. Honestly, I felt a strange, inexplicable comfort in freefall, something I hadn't felt in a long time, but since that bastard had risen damn high in that brief moment, I had no other choice unless I wanted to fall to my death.
"...Needlessly pretty."
Darkness had settled over the capital, and it was putting on quite a beautiful nightscape. Felt even more beautiful than the distant lights of civilization I used to see from the night firing range back in my army training days. Hard to believe this was a world where some deranged demon bastard could've thrown a massive shit-fit.
Of course, unlike that beautiful nightscape, the various clusters of light rushing toward the academy were what was rotting my brain. It would've been nice if that piece of trash had just quietly died underground, but I had no goddamn clue how to spin this. Already at the academy, there was a flood of people—students and staff alike—running toward or staring up in my direction. Doubtless that pseudo-breath, the final death throes, had drawn their eyes.
"Ugh, hope there weren't any casualties."
If there was any consolation, it was that the breath—which had drilled a direct, massive sinkhole from underground—had shot up into the outdoor training grounds at the academy's rear. From what I recalled, it was a place they'd put some effort into, designed for tactical training based on terrain... Unless some unlucky bastard happened to be doing facility maintenance today, there'd be no one around at this hour.
At the same time, it was also a place where I wouldn't run into anyone while descending back down into that sinkhole. Not being able to control my descent speed at will meant I didn't have to worry about being spotted immediately, which was a major comfort.
As I descended for a long while like that, Siegfried, who had been waiting for me below, finally shouted out.
"Mary Poppins!"
"I shouldn't have said anything."
I didn't even have the energy to snark back. Instead, the moment I landed, I just tossed him the greatsword in reply and collapsed. Sheryl came running toward me. Not only was her face a total mess, but she was running with rabbit-red eyes, tears streaming down, and the sight pulled an involuntary hollow laugh out of me.
"Eldmia!"
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's all over..."
That's when I let my guard down.
Sheryl used her running momentum and drove a knee kick straight into my face.
"You crazy son of a bitch!!"
It hit so spectacularly that I was genuinely glad I still had my body reinforcement active, but the blow carried less force than I expected and felt very different from the hits I knew. The sudden attack itself was one thing, but more surprising was hearing normally formal Sheryl spit out completely unrestrained curses.
Pain aside, Sheryl had thrown her full weight into the attack, so I toppled backward with her. Raised in a proper household, she immediately mounted me and started pounding on my chest while big fat tears streamed down her face.
"Y-you fuck! Fuck! Crazy bastard! Bastard who's itching to die!"
The knee kick at least had some weight behind it, so it stung a little. But the hand hitting my chest couldn't even form a proper fist and was trembling so badly it did less than a massage. She'd fought so composedly during our adventurer work that she apparently had no immunity to this kind of dramatic combat—she must've taken quite a shock.
Honestly, I had merely chosen the surest way to take her head. I had never imagined the bastard would suddenly shoot into the air like a damn rocket, so the situation was more than a little unfair. But since I was the one who had made her worry, it did not feel like I had any right to complain, so I decided to stay silent for the moment.
But that aside, I'd never seen her face so utterly wrecked over the past two years, so holding back laughter was agonizing.
If I laughed here, I'd get treated like a genuine psychopath and beaten like a dog, right?
"Huaahng. What if you'd died doing that? Why the hell would you do something like that?"
By the time a flustered Siegfried and Saintess Teneasi approached and tried to pull her off, Sheryl had already lost all strength and was just sobbing loudly, spouting garbled wails. She was crying so despairingly that anyone seeing it would've assumed someone had died.
"Stop crying. You're ruining your eye makeup."
"Huuaaah. You crazy bastarddd."
Sheryl still managed to land one more hit, but it was more funny than painful. Ruffling her hair a bit, I decided to put out the immediate fire first.
"When I was descending, I saw people swarming in from all directions thanks to that demon bastard shooting off something massive. My plan seems to have gone pretty sideways. Any ideas?"
"Hmm."
Siegfried, storing his sword into subspace and stroking his chin, opened his mouth only after a long deliberation.
"You just don't wanna get tangled with power players, right? Let's play it by ear as we go. Rua's an imperial princess, isn't she? She's a pro at this stuff."
"You sure that's okay?"
"Actually, that's something I should be asking you, little brother? But seeing how you're talking, I guess I don't really need to ask."
Apart from shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal, Siegfried tapped his temple and continued.
"But that's separate from the countless questions I want to ask. I can't let this slide so easily this time."
"Good timing. I'll be struggling to move properly for a while anyway. I'll think of it as killing time."
Sure enough, once I released my reinforcement, the pain began setting in so badly it felt like I'd be bedridden by tomorrow. For a moment the potion Shadow Foot had given me flashed through my mind, but since I wasn't actually wounded anywhere, I decided to endure it.
People say saving it only ends in regret, but now was the right time to save.
◈
By the time I dragged my exhausted body back up to the surface, not only academy staff but also the Holy Knights of the Holy Light Cross Order had already swarmed in and were controlling the perimeter.
They were watching not just where the sinkhole had formed but also the entrance we'd used. For a moment I wondered if the kids had given some prior testimony, but that wasn't it at all. Apparently, they too had considered the academy's underground the most likely location and had prepared in advance.
Fortunately, we who had resolved the incident weren't interrogated or detained. We were just scheduled for periodic interviews with investigators. Even that was sorted out in the form of me convalescing at home since I was barely able to move anyway.
When she heard all this straight from my mouth, Asilie nearly fainted again. But perhaps having built up some immunity, she only got light-headed. Maybe knowing in advance that I'd get caught up in trouble helped. Though I didn't dare float that hypothesis in front of the person concerned.
I was already aching like hell. Taking more hits here would've been seriously rough, I felt.
"Your Magic Organ took some strain. Nothing to worry too much about. Think of it like muscle soreness."
In the midst of the chaotic night flowing by, Seneran—who'd heard I'd collapsed—came rushing over in a single bound with my teacher. She finished her diagnosis with a sigh of relief, and Asilie and I both exhaled our own relieved sighs. Still, the fact remained that I needed rest, so she and my teacher sternly warned me not to do any dumb shit for a while and left past midnight.
There was plenty to think about, but at least for today, I was exhausted too. I decided to just fall asleep without thinking about anything. And when I woke up after half a day's sleep, I began to hate my past self who had dumped responsibility onto my present self with zero worries... But thankfully, things started resolving more smoothly than I'd feared.
Perhaps because it had all been done under the implicit agreement of the Empire, the Kingdom, and the Holy Light Cross Order—the investigator who visited our house didn't question me, but simply relayed the points I needed to know, the 'official' results, and the things to keep in mind.
It felt exactly like having my answers and statements scripted with the help of a lawyer. Thanks to that, without any particular effort on my part, I was able to roughly obtain the kind of outcome I'd initially hoped for.
"Regrettably, since there were those who witnessed Sir Ega beheading the 'Demon Dragon'... we were unable to attribute this to the credit of the Empire's Hero."
Yeah. Roughly.
Apparently, a few students—who happened to be unharmed by the sinkhole and were diligently studying—saw me. Honestly, it was so suspicious I wanted to verify its truth, but since aside from that, most of the credit was concluded as going to Sheryl's party, I decided to just let it slide.
Nothing ever goes perfectly according to plan, after all. 'Could happen.'
"Lastly, the royal family and various magic libraries wish to purchase and study the Demon Dragon's corpse. The others have delegated the decision on its disposal to Sir Ega, so if you would reflect upon it and let us know by our next visit, we would be grateful."
The corpse of the fake dragon, Krumelia, publicly designated a Demon Dragon to erase public association with demons, had not vanished. To be precise, that was exactly why the excuse of 'Demon Dragon' held.
I didn't know if it was because of the incarnation that broke the rules, or an unintended remnant from Krumelia's inherent ability. But as the remains of an Archdemon specialized in transformation, it apparently held immense research value. Selling it immediately wouldn't have been an issue, but for now I left it at 'thinking about it' until the next visit in three days.
For an Archdemon, she'd certainly given me a solid chance to make some money. In her own way, she was a somewhat helpful little bastard.