Collapse Usually Starts from the Top
The chandelier's shattering cry tore the waltz of the banquet hall apart in a single stroke.
The sound of breaking glass sprayed in every direction, and the nobles' screams followed a beat later. The massive cluster of mana stones hanging from the ceiling flashed with a brilliant glare, and every mana stone in the chandelier fell silent at once.
From deeper inside the hall, someone shouted.
"The barrier—!"
I shoved the side door open and looked back into the hall. It was not only the chandelier. The mana circuits covering the entire ceiling were cascading into successive turmoil. The waves were not quite visible to the eye, yet the ones I could feel were far too rough. Because of a single tightly twisted knot, the whole network had stretched taut to the point of danger.
The princess asked low beside me.
"…I'll ask first, but where do you think will collapse first?"
Instead of answering, I looked up at the left side of the ceiling. The front center that people believed safest usually held out until the end. What failed first was always the parts hanging at the edges, the ones that drew less attention.
"It will probably be under the western balcony."
"Your basis?"
"There."
Where I pointed, a hair-thin crack swept across the glass surface. Not the mana stone itself, but the auxiliary frame supporting it. That was the order of what broke first under overload.
Princess Isabella followed my fingertip with her gaze, then immediately raised her head.
"Everyone, step back."
Her voice was not raised. Yet the commotion inside the banquet hall died down as if it had never existed, and the crowd parted to either side. Even amid the chaos, it was a ruler's command that strangely pressed down on every person present.
"Clear the western balcony and the area beneath it. Right now!"
Knights sprang forward; attendants pushed the nobles. But it was already too late.
Boom—!
With a dull roar, one of the western chandelier supports snapped downward. The massive metal frame twisted and poured out the hanging fragments of mana stone. Dozens of light clumps fell to the floor, trailing white tails behind them.
People screamed. Dress hems tangled; someone fell; someone else shoved another's shoulder. The faces of the nobles who had been flaunting elegance twisted into ugly terror in an instant.
I chewed the inside of my lip. The collapse was only just beginning. The real problem was the mana circuit that had been holding that structure aloft. If the central axis shook, the indoor barrier enveloping the entire imperial hall would briefly empty. If that gap was short, it would be the end. But if someone had deliberately tampered with it—
The darkness in a corner of the ceiling rippled once. I focused my gaze. Pitch black. Thin as a shadow, writhing as if alive. Things too ambiguous even to call mana beasts. Remnants crawling in as if licking the wound in the barrier. I had occasionally seen such things on the border—omens that leaked in first before a great disaster.
"…Your Highness."
"I already saw it."
The princess was already looking at the ceiling as well. The leisure of moments ago had vanished. Faint golden mana pooled over the back of her hand.
"Tell the knights to look only upward. If they try to control from the floor, it will be too late."
She glanced at my face once, then immediately turned.
"Watch the gaps in the ceiling. Cut down anything that comes down without hesitation."
The order had barely left her lips when one black remnant dropped beside a pillar with a dull plop. A lump the size of a human head burst the instant it hit the floor, scattering black mist. A noble screamed and stumbled back. A knight's sword plunged down late; the remnant, split in half, flailed on the floor as if thrashing.
I scanned the hall. Too many people. The exits were narrow; dresses and ornaments snagged ankles. Moreover, those black things had little lethality, yet they were more than enough bait to foment terror. Even a few of them falling would make the banquet hall collapse under its own feet.
Then a cold voice rang out from the opposite staircase above.
"Do not close the eastern exit. If they are herded that way, it will become even more chaotic!"
I turned. A woman with silver-blue hair stood looking down, one hand on the railing. The hem of a dark overcoat draped over her dress; her expression was settled cold as ice.
Adelaide Rubenheim.
The eldest daughter of the northern Rubenheim duchy was already reading the situation. She pointed at one attendant without hesitation.
"Open the southern passage. Servants, do not move before the nobles, and raise the fallen first."
When the attendant who received the order hesitated, frozen, Adelaide's eyes grew colder.
"—Did you not hear me?"
Only then did people spring into motion. I let out a short breath. At least that woman did not waste time with useless screams.
A second remnant fell from the ceiling. This time there were three. When the princess raised her hand, golden lines rose into the air and pierced the black lumps. The remnants burst like sparks in midair, scattering pitch-black ash.
Strong. With that level of output she could have swept half the hall away in a single stroke. And yet there was no waste. The key was to cut off the cause of the situation so that display of force would not have to continue for long.
I reached toward the wall again. The coldly vibrating grain of mana transmitted through my fingertips. Three axes: the central main, the left and right auxiliaries, and a bypass line shallowly connecting under the floor. What was shaking now was because the western auxiliary axis and the bypass line had twisted at the same time. There were clear traces of someone deliberately twisting them the opposite way.
"…As expected, someone tampered with it."
I muttered without realizing, and the princess standing right beside me heard.
"Are you certain?"
"If it were simple wear from aging, it would usually die from one side. This is two bound knots that have come undone simultaneously."
"Can you fix it, Rion Elverhart?"
I was at a loss for words. Fix this mess of a circuit right now—me? It was insane. If I had possessed that level of ability, it would have been truly convenient.
"If I do it, complete restoration is impossible."
"I am not asking for completeness right now."
The princess spoke low.
"Just keep it from collapsing. This is an order."
I nodded. Going out into the center of the main hall would be too late. The place where the bypass line passed—
"Under the floor pattern."
As I moved toward the center of the hall, a knight nearby stiffened.
"It is dangerous if you approach any closer!"
"…I know."
If I could have handled mana on a large scale, it would have been easier. But regretting what I did not have was useless. I stood on the imperial crest engraved in the central marble floor. A shallow, rough tremor rose from under my soles.
As expected. The bypass line twisted here. The center of the pattern—the place where the lion's claws overlapped. To others' eyes it was merely a splendid decoration, but the most important axis was originally hidden in places like this.
I knelt and laid my palm on the floor. Under the cold stone, a cracked flow brushed past. If I held on too long I would take the reverse current head-on. Before that, I had only to correct the direction.
"Your Highness!"
I called without even raising my head.
"I am listening."
"You must reduce the output toward the ceiling! If you stamp it down with force, even the auxiliary axes will shatter!"
A brief silence. There was no reason for someone of the princess's standing to follow the instructions of a low-ranking noble as given. Yet soon the pressure above my head lessened. The heat of the golden mana thinned by one layer.
Good. I steadied my breath and loaded as much mana as I possessed into my fingertips. It was a meager amount—nowhere near combat level. Yet when probing such fine gaps, this quantity was actually better. Too much overflows; too little can still be read.
I pushed it thinly between the split grains. As if finding the end of a torn thread, I groped for the direction of the tangled flow. Past the left, further down. Further inside. My wrist went numb. My vision blurred for a moment, and a sharp metallic ringing rose inside my ears. If I touched it wrong, it would end here.
It was that moment. A cool aura stopped behind my back.
"Shall I assist?"
Adelaide Rubenheim. When she had come down I did not know, but the young lady was already kneeling on one knee beside me, looking at the floor pattern.
"…I would be grateful if you did."
"Then where should I hold?"
I glanced at her. The way she asked was good. She did not hide the fact that she did not know, and simply asked for what was needed first.
"The lion's left front paw."
Without a word she placed her gloved hand upon it. Faint blue-white mana spread along the marble gaps. A cold, thin grain—not a force that broke, but one that held.
"If this much…"
"A little more."
Her mana fixed the edges of the pattern like a sheet of ice. The shaking bypass line briefly regained its breath. In that very gap I pushed in the end of the split flow.
Click.
A sensation of something meshing under the stone rang through my palm. At the same time the residual light pouring from the banquet hall ceiling swayed greatly once, then no longer fell. The black remnants staggered like insects that had lost their strength in midair and were pierced one after another by the princess's golden lines.
The screams remaining inside the hall slowly died away. I regulated my breath without being able to lift my hand. My fingertips were tingling. Even this much had been excessive.
Beside me the young lady spoke low.
"…Pardon me, but are you originally someone who does this sort of thing?"
Still looking at the floor, I answered without smiling.
"No. Originally I was scheduled to have my engagement broken off today and return quietly."
A short silence. And very faintly, the young lady's breath wavered. Just now—had this expressionless woman smiled?
From the opposite side the princess's shoe heels clicked closer. I raised my head. Isabella Ernesia was still looking down at us with a face that showed not a single dishevelment. They were the eyes of someone who had begun calculating something anew.
"Sir Elverhart."
The princess called my name slowly.
"Tonight, it seems it will be difficult to simply send you off."