Chapter 103
Chapter 103
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: Festival of the Hundred Beasts (3)
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Ronan sheathed La Mancha and stood up. Naviroje's expression was too serious to brush off as a joke. She glanced back and forth between the two of them before letting out a sigh.
"...You two should be fine. The doppelgangers have disappeared."
"Pardon?"
"No time to explain. If you're willing to help, follow me."
With that, Naviroje turned and walked away. Ronan and Adeshan exchanged a brief, blinking glance before hurrying after her.
The three of them walked down a corridor lit only by minimal lighting. Their long shadows writhed along the walls and floor.
It was nearing midnight, so no students were wandering about. Adeshan rubbed her arms and muttered.
"Is it because it's night? It feels... kinda creepy."
"You have to check out the Dawn Tower sometime, Senior. You wouldn't believe what I saw in the library with all the lights out..."
"H-Hey, don't!"
Each step echoed through the hall like a reverberation. Contrary to expectations, it didn't take long to reach their destination. Naviroje suddenly stopped in front of a massive double door.
"Here."
"Closer than I thought. It's in Gallerion Hall."
The place holding the doppelgangers was the small banquet hall in Gallerion Hall. Confirming no one was around, Naviroje turned on her heel.
"I'll finish the search. Get the details from the people in charge."
"Ah, thank you."
"And aren't there better places than the arena? Like the Hill of Four Seasons. I just don't get it."
"Pardon?"
"Never mind. I'm off."
Naviroje left those cryptic words behind and departed. Adeshan's face flushed red like autumn leaves.
"Th-That's..."
"What was that about?"
Ronan shrugged and opened the door. A spacious chamber came into view. About seven people with grim expressions wandered the banquet hall.
They all appeared to be involved with the Festival of the Hundred Beasts. Two looked like professors, four were guards in armor. One was a male student in uniform whose face seemed vaguely familiar.
"Huh?"
The male student turned at the sound of the door. Their eyes met.
"...Eek?!"
"What the?"
The student's face drained of color as he bowed his head sharply. Ronan tilted his head at the inexplicable reaction. That's when he noticed a were-lion standing in one corner of the hall, dressed in pajamas.
Right, that guy's in charge. Ronan sneaked up and poked his back.
"Baren. I'm here."
"R-Ronan? What brings you here...?"
"Instructor Naviroje sent me to help. Something about the doppelgangers disappearing?"
Baren's eyes widened at the unexpected encounter. He ran a hand through his mane and sighed deeply.
"Hoo... Yes."
"What happened?"
Baren's appearance was as haggard as right after reading Ronan's club activity report. His mane, which should have gleamed, was dull and frizzy like spoiled soap. A voice like he might kill himself any moment leaked from his open mouth.
"To cut to the chase... the crates holding the doppelgangers suddenly opened. If this is a nightmare, I wish someone would wake me up..."
"Crates?"
Ronan looked around. Two massive crates gaped open in the center of the banquet hall. Four incredibly complex locks lay scattered beneath them.
"You really should've guarded them better. First the dream birds and manticores, now this. So sloppy."
"Guh... I tried my best. They were locks no one could possibly pick...!"
Baren clutched his mane and sobbed. He explained that he'd done everything to manage the doppelgangers flawlessly for the festival.
They'd used specially made locks on the crates, and nine people including Baren had stationed themselves in the hall. Rather than leaving gaps by taking turns or slacking off, his strategy was for everyone to stay up all night together. Recalling the situation, Baren sighed again.
"The bathroom... I shouldn't have gone to the bathroom. How did this happen...?"
But despite his efforts, the doppelgangers escaped. By the time he returned from the bathroom, it was all over. The two crates stood empty, and the hall was a mess.
The two doppelgangers had escaped by shapeshifting into a frost troll, a charming blonde woman, a giant spider, and everyone's mother. No one could stop the bizarre creatures. They'd prepared for outsiders, but never imagined the doppelgangers breaking free from within.
"How'd the locks open? You said they were custom-made."
"Th-That's the real mystery. Without these keys, they're impossible to unlock. And I have the only set."
Baren rummaged in his inner pocket and pulled out a keyring. Four keys as complex as the locks dangled from it. In the most dejected voice imaginable, he began listing the features of the locks he'd made.
"It might sound lame now, but they're really good locks. Coated in mithril, so breaking them is practically impossible, and they have enchantments against unlocking spells. For them to be opened is just... absurd..."
"Baren. Unless you're trying to sell me those locks, shut it."
"Sorry..."
Baren bowed his head, falling silent. The locks opening was bad enough, but the bigger issue was that no one saw how it happened. Ronan muttered a curse under his breath.
'...Fucking morons.'
It was pathetic. All they had to do was watch properly. He wanted to round up everyone on guard duty and beat some sense into them, but there was no time.
With less than half a day until the festival, there was only one priority: recapture the doppelgangers. Ronan scratched his head roughly and spoke in an irritated tone.
"Damn it, shouldn't we wake everyone and hunt them down? The festival's tomorrow."
"Th-That won't work. If they blend into the crowds, it'll be impossible to catch them."
"Then what?"
"We're trying to search with a small team if possible. Strong people who can subdue the doppelgangers."
Suddenly, Baren grabbed Ronan's hand. His pot-lid-sized palm trembled.
"If you help, Student Ronan... it'd be a huge relief."
"I'm already here to help."
Ronan nodded readily. Leaving Baren—who looked ready to burst into tears—he approached Adeshan. She was squinting, scanning the banquet hall.
'No one better than her for this.'
Her insight would be invaluable for investigation and pursuit. Just as Ronan was about to call her, a voice came from behind.
"Um, excuse me... could I talk to you for a sec?"
"Hm? You're that guy from earlier..."
Ronan turned. A scrawny boy stood awkwardly. It was the one whose eyes he'd met before. Suddenly remembering his name, Ronan snapped his fingers.
"Rakota?"
"Y-Yes... that's me."
"Yeah, I heard. Got lost picking herbs and went missing, huh? What kind of kid pulls that already?"
"Ah... haha... yeah."
Rakota scratched his head with a laugh. He gave off an overall clumsy impression. Seeing him twist his limbs, Ronan raised an eyebrow.
"Why're you squirming like that? Gotta poop?"
"C-Could we talk privately for a moment?"
"I don't make a habit of going to the bathroom with guys."
"It's not that! Just a moment, really."
"Tch... I'm swamped. Better not be nothing."
Ronan followed Rakota. He had no idea why this guy, who never even greeted him usually, was acting up now. Seeing him head down the stairs, Ronan frowned.
"Where to?"
"Please... just follow without asking. I beg you."
His voice was desperate. Ronan sighed and kept walking. They descended without stopping, reaching the bathroom at the end of the lower corridor.
"Bathroom after all, huh?"
Ronan chuckled dryly. A dim candle flickered above the urinal. Rakota fidgeted, checking the surroundings. Only after confirming no presences did he cautiously speak.
"This should be... safe."
"Hm?"
Suddenly, Rakota reached into his pocket. Click. It sounded like a button being pressed. At the same time, a translucent wave of mana spread from his pocket. Pop! A hemispherical barrier enveloped them instantly. Ronan scowled.
"Damn, what is this?"
He realized no outside noise penetrated at all. It was the silent spell he often used himself. Rakota sighed in relief.
"Phew... much better. Silent and perception block at once."
"What big secret are you about to spill?"
Ronan laughed dryly. He couldn't fathom why this kid dragged him here. Hesitating, Rakota finally spoke.
"...The devil's herald isn't here."
"What?"
"I was shocked when our eyes met earlier. You look about my age, but I never imagined you'd be at Phileon..."
"What bullshit are you spouting?"
"The black mage thing was a lie too, right? I suspected as much midway."
Black mage out of nowhere? It was nonsense that felt oddly familiar. Sensing something suspicious, Ronan gripped his sword hilt. After deep breaths, Rakota continued.
"...I did it."
"Hm?"
"I unlocked the locks and released the doppelgangers. I did it."
Ronan's eyes widened. It felt like taking a brick to the head. His brain struggled to process. Barely regaining composure, he glared at Rakota.
"What the hell are you saying? You released them?"
"Yes. But it was the best option. Baren pulled an unexpected strategy, pushing things toward bloodshed. We had to act before the organization could revise plans."
"Bloodshed? Organization?"
"I know it's confusing, but hear me out. Time's short. You can stop this—"
As Rakota tried to continue, Ronan charged like the wind and kicked his gut. Thud! Rakota flew back, crashing into the urinal.
"Guh! W-Wait...!"
Rakota raised his arms to block, but it was futile. Ronan seized his hair and drew La Mancha. Rakota froze amid groans of pain. The black blade pressed against his throat.
"Eek...!"
"Move and you're dead. Cut the crap."
"C-Calm down... please...!"
Blood trickled down his skinny neck. But Ronan didn't lower the sword. Rakota's voice had changed. The somewhat sleazy mid-tone had become a calm baritone.
"Who the hell are you?"
He remembered. This voice was in his memory. Rakota raised a trembling hand.
"I-I'll show you now... so please, the sword...!"
"Do it like this."
"Y-Yes... got it. Hic...!"
Suddenly, he clawed at the skin below his left ear and peeled it back. Rip! Pallid skin sloughed off like a shed, revealing a swarthy face. Ronan's eyes widened.
"You're...!"
"It's me. Ballus. Don't you remember?"
The blade lifted from Rakota's throat. Ronan's brain jammed again, failing to process.
Ballus the poacher. Ronan's comrade from the Penal Legion, a low-rank member of the infamous poaching group Caribolo's Snare. The sole survivor among those at the site where Citra hatched. Composing himself, Ronan spoke.
"...Why are you here?"