Evidence, Part 6
"Ahahaha! Senior, what on earth is that supposed to be?!"
"I'm trying my absolute best here... I really don't want to step on your dress or your feet, you know..."
"Moving so stiffly like that will only make it easier to step on me, wouldn't it?"
"I-is that so? Ahem..."
"Just think of it as supporting me so I can lean easily against your arm. As if our center of gravity rests right between the two of us."
Hearing her explanation, Junon shuffled forward awkwardly. "Like... this?"
Renias burst into fresh peals of laughter, and the onlooker watching from the sidelines had to clamp both hands over her mouth to muffle her own chuckles.
"Pfft...!"
What in the world was that movement?
Legs creaking like a wooden marionette, two arms frozen rigid as if he had no clue where to place them, and a torso swaying about like jelly—there wasn't a single redeemable part to be found.
To think that someone who moved so fluidly in combat, weaving seamlessly in and out of enemy strikes, could turn into an immovable block of stone on the dance floor.
Maybe he was just completely hopeless at dancing in the past timeline, too, Senia mused to herself.
—"Wait, like this? Am I doing it right?"
—"Pffthaha, I'm sorrrry...! It's just too funny...!"
—"Ahem. You said you were going to teach me, but it feels like you're just making fun of me. Is it just my imagination?"
—"W-well, not entirely... but you're just so hilarious, Senior! How can I not laugh?!"
A man who had saved countless lives, and a radiant maiden admired by all.
They truly made a lovely pair.
"Looks like she's the only one capable of drawing that kind of reaction out of Junon. Don't you think?"
Senia only realized just then that someone had quietly approached her.
Yet she wasn't particularly startled. At the very least, whoever stood beside her wouldn't be perturbed by witnessing such a scene anymore.
"...I've been watching since around the time you were holding that looking glass. Once I saw them, I understood why you were standing here like this."
Had it been anyone else, Senia might have guarded her tongue, but since Aris harbored her own profound guilt toward Junon, there was no need to offer excuses for lingering in the shadows.
After all, this was the very same Aris who had once dropped to her knees and pleaded desperately before her.
"Are you still anxious?"
"...Yeah. Terribly so."
Their sentiments mirrored each other.
Never had there been a time more agonizing than when the fear surfaced that her past self might have exploited Junon.
Back when she had been hollowed out by self-loathing, neither her mind nor her body had functioned normally.
That was precisely why Senia felt compelled to offer a piece of advice.
"I was the exact same way."
"Huh?"
"Those memories you spoke of. In the end, it was another version of myself who caused all that harm, plain and simple."
"...I see. You too, Senia..."
"That's why you can't just remain passive like this."
Of course, spilled water could never be gathered back into the cup.
Even so, this step was something that absolutely had to be taken.
Just as Senia had done, Aris needed to stop cowering in fear and confront him head-on.
"Aris. Go to him and beg for his forgiveness properly. I believe... that's the only right path forward for you."
Whether forgiveness would ever be granted remained uncertain. Yet even if he chose not to forgive her, Aris needed to seek Junon out on her own two feet.
Before it became far too late.
"Ah~ that was so much fun!"
"..."
It seemed my dear underclassman was utterly dedicated to turning me into her personal laughingstock.
Having lived a life entirely divorced from aristocratic etiquette and refined culture, there was no way I could possibly be good at it. Despite my earnest efforts, Renias hadn't stopped giggling for a single second.
It wasn't as though the dance had broken down entirely before the music ended, but having the spiritual life drained right out of me was unavoidable.
"Still, Senior, wasn't it quite a novel experience?"
"Uh... yeah... a novel experience I never want to go through again... getting mocked endlessly by my junior..."
"Ehehe. I laughed so hard. Thanks to you, I had a wonderful time. Thank you, Senior."
A wonderful time, she said.
I was thoroughly accustomed to being made a fool of, but usually that came accompanied by malice, sneers, and barbed sarcasm. Being teased like this was unfamiliar territory.
Even so, while Renias's bright laughter lingered in the air, the tangled knot weighing down my chest seemed to loosen for a moment.
I was braced for things to get ugly this time, but it turned out completely fine.
There was no question that keeping the transmission vector of the Lemterte Plague to myself without notifying anyone could have drawn sharp rebuke.
I had assumed I was destined to endure a barrage of insults before being cast out of the banquet hall... and while countless eyes had certainly locked onto me, nobody had shown any inclination to confront me.
Sitting on the terrace chair and gazing out into the night, the reality of what I had accomplished finally sank in.
The newly restored Dubhe Hall, standing proud and intact in the distance, offered me the answer.
The predetermined tracks of history had been shifted.
Everything I had done up to this point had been designed to overturn a set-in-stone tragedy.
Naturally, one by one, deviations from the original timeline were bound to emerge.
"Hup! What are you thinking about now? You're making me curious."
...And unexpected moments like this would happen, too.
"Ouch! What was that flick forrr...? All I did was poke you with a finger!"
"You spent the last half hour making fun of me, and you're still playing pranks? No more mercy."
"Hmph. That's because you keep staring outside with such a lonely look on your face."
"I had things on my mind. ...And thanks to you, Renias, my concentration is completely shot."
"In the first place, you're not supposed to leave your banquet partner sitting all bored by herself! Ugh, now that I think about it, that flick was totally unfair! I'm going to flick your forehead back, Senior!"
"Oh, really? Go ahead, try it."
"Ooh...! Let go of my wrists! Using our height difference to dodge like that is cheating!"
"Haha. I never said I'd just stand still and take it."
Puffing out her cheeks in defeat after failing to overcome the difference in reach, Renias crossed her arms and whipped her head to the side, thoroughly sulking.
"Oh? Are you pouting?"
"Hmph. I don't know. Don't talk to me."
"Heh. You're definitely pouting."
She let out another indignant huff, thrusting her lower lip out and blowing her cheeks up even rounder.
She was truly an honest, innocent girl. In truth, this kind of bright, unguarded expression suited Renias best—so much so that I felt a prickle of guilt for teasing her.
Reaching out to gently stroke her hair, I gave voice to the thought lingering in my mind.
"I was just thinking that a lot of things have changed."
"Pardon?"
"You said you were curious. That's what I was thinking about earlier."
Renias's dark eyes rounded in surprise, clearly not expecting me to answer so readily.
"Do you mean the academy has changed?"
"That too. Well, a whole lot of things, really."
"..."
Turning her gaze toward Dubhe Hall, where I had been looking, Renias sank into quiet contemplation.
I doubted she could decipher much from that alone, but she took on a surprisingly solemn expression and murmured something peculiar.
"Always remaining the same is a painful thing."
"Hm?"
"Ahaha... I must have said something strange out of the blue again, didn't I? Please forget I said that!"
She certainly hadn't looked like she was joking... What did she mean by that?
Well, did it really matter? Renias probably had her own private worries.
"Ah! But don't take your hand away from patting my head just because of that!"
"Ah, alright, alright..."
In any case, many things had changed.
Yet going forward, I would have to change plenty more. If I wanted to survive in this country, that is.
The banquet organized under Professor Muniherr's direction had succeeded in winning the students' complete satisfaction.
Furthermore, by dismantling longstanding banquet customs and consolidating administrative authority under the faculty, he had once again proven himself the Empire's premier Chancellor in both name and deed.
Conversely, that meant the noble faction had suffered a catastrophic defeat.
"That slippery old serpent...!"
The moment Marquis Flochan stepped down from his carriage, he hurled his walking cane to the cobblestones in a tempest of fury.
It was all because of the scathing words Grand Duke Ardelion had summoned him to deliver mere moments ago.
—"The evidence proving that you and your Noble Alliance have systematically persecuted the Sirens is so undeniable—how could I have possibly refrained from reporting it to His Imperial Majesty?"
The Grand Duke of Ardelion had reported the matter directly to the Emperor of the Artena Empire.
And in response, the Emperor had personally conveyed his royal decree.
—"His Imperial Majesty bade me relay only this: Peridot, Jade, Fluden, Sapphire. And lastly, Blue Horvis. I trust you understand full well what these names signify, Marquis Flochan of the Blue Family."
Every single name uttered belonged to a fallen noble house. Each had once commanded towering influence within the Empire, occupying a prestigious seat among the Seven Colors.
At the same time, they were the very lineages that had defied the Emperor's will or sought to scheme behind his back, only to have their bloodlines systematically severed and their houses cast into ruin.
In other words, the Emperor was delivering an unmistakable ultimatum to Marquis Flochan:
Just like those predecessors, the current Blue Family, House Flochan, could be wiped from the map of the Kempf-Litton Continent without leaving a trace.
It was enough to make his blood boil with indignation.
How can the Grand Duke, the sovereign ruler of a nation, be so utterly blind! Why does he refuse to consider breaking free from the Empire's leash and establishing a fully independent principality!
As of today, the Noble Alliance had fallen under the intense scrutiny of the Grand Duchy.
Extending their reach into the academy was no longer feasible, and the lucrative pipeline they had nurtured by framing the Sirens as public enemies had been shattered.
The prohibition of narcotics distribution. The abolition of black markets. The closure of gambling dens. The elimination of factional student friction.
The financial cycle—their primary lever for manipulating the Ardelion Grand Duchy—was crumbling rapidly, driving the nobility straight toward the edge of a precipice.
Now, Marquis Flochan had resolved to stop at nothing.
"You have arrived, Marquis Flochan."
"Are the preparations complete, Count Norbel?"
"Yes. I have already coordinated with the Temple."
They, too, were conspirators harboring greedy ambitions for the grand prize of the Grand Duchy in order to evade imperial pressure. They had no intention of rolling over and taking this defeat lying down.
Since they were backed into a corner anyway, their only recourse now was a desperate, scorched-earth gambit to drag their opponent into the abyss.
Even if the commoners bleed and die in the process... that will all be your fault, Grand Duke.
Their opening gambit began with this student.
"I assume your resolve has not wavered?"
"Of course not...!!"
A pathetic commoner, eyes bloodshot and ablaze with vengeance, incapable of accepting the legitimate grounds for his expulsion.
Yet at this precise moment, an academy student was the exact instrument the Temple would welcome most eagerly.
Under normal circumstances, the Marquis wouldn't have spared such trash a second glance, kicking him aside for daring to block the path. But creatures consumed by vengeance could always be put to use, no matter how crudely, so long as you placed the slightest weapon in their hands.
"I understand your grievances all too well. It is because this Grand Duchy is rotten to the core that such an injustice befell you. I have a place to recommend to you."
"I'll do anything!! So long as I can have my revenge on that bastard!!"
"I shall summon my subordinates. Head to the Temple alongside your friends. They will provide you with ample aid there."
On the surface, his demeanor appeared infinitely benevolent, but beneath the aristocratic veneer lay nothing but cold disdain and ridicule.
For Demian, he envisioned only the fate of a disposable pawn.
· · ·
Around that very same time.
Clasping something delivered from the Temple, Dahlia made her way to Muniherr's private office.
Judging that her husband, Muniherr—who was perpetually buried under state affairs—finally had a brief window of breathing room, she had waited until now to deliver the news.
Even so, Dahlia asked just to be certain.
"Are you finished with your pressing tasks?"
"Mm. Jake will take over supervision of the banquet hall from here, so I only have minor administrative paperwork left to process. More importantly, why are you here? You must be exhausted; you should have gotten some rest first."
"Phew... I suppose so."
"Dahlia?"
For Dahlia to visit his office unannounced and let out a heavy sigh right off the bat—did something happen?
Looking closer, he noticed a document clutched tightly in her hands.
With the research on the Lemterte Plague concluded and the Hyplisia ampoules successfully synthesized, he had assumed there were no reports left for his wife to hand over... Had one remained?
"If it's something I need to review, leave it here and go rest. You've laboured harder than anyone."
Though his workload would increase by one more task, he was eager to spare his wife, who had carried the heaviest burden. But Dahlia's next words froze the expression on Muniherr's face.
"The Temple reported that... a Calyx summoning has taken place."
"...A Calyx summoning, you say?"
"It hasn't been announced to the Grand Duchy. The only ones who know about it... are me and Sister Denise."
Muniherr, too, understood full well the catastrophic ripple effects a Calyx could bring.
Beings summoned from another world, cast down onto the Kempf-Litton Continent. While they had once served as humanity's sharpest blades, he knew just as well that they were a double-edged sword.
"What type is it?"
"...Human. Unquestionably human."
"Good heavens..."
This was grave news. In the case of humans, possessing intellect meant the Calyx could commit atrocities of their own volition.
Indeed, history recorded instances where summoned beings pulled pins from small metal spheres to detonate themselves, or rampaged unchecked across cities as serial murderers and raving madmen.
Yet there was an issue far graver than that.
"And... this is a transcription of the oracle handed down by the Temple."
The moment Dahlia unfurled the scroll and showed it to Muniherr, his jaw dropped in disbelief.
"Merciful heavens, this is...!"
The One Who Has Lost Everything.
It was undeniable proof that someone wielding Type 7 mana had appeared.