Distrust, and Hatred (9)

Unsettled.

It was like sweating profusely in the sweltering heat of midsummer until your clothes clung to your skin. Or getting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠drenched in a sudden downpour, soaked so thoroughly that your body could no longer tell sweat from rain. Or finally stepping into the bathroom to wash away the grime, only to hear a knock at the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠door from an unexpected guest.

That was precisely how Aris felt right now.

What on earth are you scheming, Junon?

Why hadn't he told Princess Ophelia the truth? Why shield her instead, when she was the one who had crossed the line?

She had caused enough of a scene to warrant immediate disciplinary action. She had even launched an attack fueled by blatant hostility—a direct violation of academy regulations that could have left demerit points permanently scarred onto her record. Junon had everything to gain and nothing to lose by exposing her.

Trying to make sense of his motives gave Aris a splitting headache. Worse, with Princess Ophelia keeping a watchful eye on things, she couldn't even approach him first. As her frustration mounted, heavy sighs slipped from her lips with increasing frequency.

"Ah."

Glancing down, her eyes caught an incongruous color. Clinging to the lovely pink hair passed down from her parents was an unsightly smear of soot. Only now did she notice that the tips of her locks were lightly singed.

Thinking back on when it could have happened, only one moment came to mind.

When she ambushed Junon.

Aside from that, she hadn't cast any spells with enough volatile blowback to spray shrapnel.

"So annoying."

Aris gripped the charred strands in frustration and headed toward where her party members usually gathered. But the room was empty. In their place lay a single note.

The scrawl belonged to Goden. Reading the brief message left behind, it appeared an emergency defense battle had broken out in Scheat Province—specifically in Lemtert Village.

"Canolatls launched a raid...?"

Because the assault was unexpected, casualties were mounting rapidly near the border. Furthermore, since the region had already undergone a subjugation campaign once before, even seasoned veterans had lowered their guard, causing a critical delay in establishing a defensive line. As swarms of monsters poured into nearby settlements, civilians were caught in the crossfire, turning the situation into a sweeping regional eradication campaign.

Charlotte and Goden, both having prior combat experience, had naturally joined the expedition. But there was one unexpected detail.

"Michel, Senia, and Erika wouldn't usually do this... would they?"

The current Tembris Party's teamwork had matured significantly compared to when they first formed. Through repeated drills and tactical discussions, each member's role had solidified to the point where they could comfortably hunt Class C Elite beasts at an assimilation rate of thirty percent. However, due to Grand Duchy laws and academy regulations, actual field deployment had been continually denied them.

Then, the crisis in Lemtert struck, and the local authorities sent an urgent request for academy reinforcement.

Seeing an ideal opportunity, Goden had consulted with the team and decided to seize this chance to gain real battlefield experience. Under ordinary circumstances, securing approval would have been nearly impossible, but given that Lemtert had declared a state of emergency, their deployment was greenlit. As a result, while Aris had overslept, the rest of the Tembris Party had already departed for the northern outskirts of Lemtert Village.

"Seriously? So I'm the only one left behind? And here I was, planning to ask them today if anyone else remembered anything."

Vexed and itching to kick something, Aris swung her leg and booted the empty air.

As an academy student, the meal vouchers provided by default were usually distributed each morning. Since official notices from the administration were also placed in student lockers, stopping by was a daily necessity.

Creeeak.

Official notices and bulletins were the easiest way to gauge what was happening in the world. Though only a single concise sentence, it served as a signpost telling me what steps to take next. In a sense, it was a newspaper only I could read—my personal weather forecast.

Between receiving a warning from Erika, facing a direct threat from Aris, and nearly spilling the truth to Princess Ophelia, I hadn't paid any attention to recent events. That explained the thick stack of neglected notices sitting in my locker. Just as I reached to toss out the outdated papers—

"Junon."

Whoa, holy crap.

I expected it to be that timid girl tugging at my sleeve, or perhaps a cheerful junior complaining about sore muscles after a workout. To my surprise, a completely different face stood before me.

Henna... was it?

According to Sylvia, they had become friends during the Start-of-Semester Evaluation. Henna was apparently the one who recommended her new hairstyle. She wasn't a total stranger, but we certainly weren't close enough for regular chats.

"Just what kind of trouble are you getting yourself into?"

Was that a scolding or genuine concern? It was hard to tell. My reputation around here wasn't exactly stellar, and with all sorts of absurd rumors floating around, I had no idea how to respond.

"I saw that pink-haired girl attack you yesterday! Are you actually okay?"

My face nearly froze solid. Was Princess Ophelia's sudden appearance because of her?

Thank goodness no one else is around.

Fortunately, few students checked their lockers this early in the morning, so nobody seemed to have overheard. Still, just to be safe, we needed to move.

"Let's talk somewhere else first."

"Huh? H-Hey, wait a minute—!!"

· · ·

"Ow. You really didn't have to grab my wrist that hard. Look at the red mark!"

"Never mind that. Henna, were you the one who tattled to the princess?"

"Of course I was! What that girl was doing went way beyond some petty bullying! She was hurling spells around like a lunatic. I honestly thought you were going to get roasted alive! Anyone could tell she wasn't in her right mind, so I reported it right away."

Good grief. I dragged a palm down my face. No wonder Princess Ophelia showed up in a deserted courtyard out of nowhere. Henna had been watching Aris and me the whole time and had run off to fetch help. While the aftermath hadn't been ideal, how could Henna have known? She certainly hadn't acted out of malice. Even so, there was one detail I needed to clear up.

"Then how did you know I was over there in the first place?"

"Well... I heard a noise..."

"If I'm not mistaken, that's in the exact opposite direction of your dormitory. You had no reason to be anywhere near that path."

Heard a noise? It wasn't entirely impossible, but thanks to what Sylvia had mentioned before, I wasn't completely clueless about campus layouts. The road split toward the female and male dormitories, and I had deliberately taken the deserted detour that almost nobody used. I was a hundred percent sure of it: Henna had tailed me.

"Come clean now, and I won't press charges. Stop dodging and spill it."

"Wait a second, Junon! Shouldn't you be thanking me? You avoided serious harm because of what I did!"

"Right, sure. Thank you. Happy now?"

"Wow. That has to be the most soulless 'thank you' I've ever heard in my life."

"Are you going to keep evading the question?"

"Tch..."

Unable to deflect any further, Henna finally confessed.

"Sylvia said she made a friend before she met me, so I wanted to see if some bad crowd was trying to take advantage of her. You know what she's like!"

"Are you serious? You stalked me for *that*?"

"What do you mean, *that*? That's what a good friend does!"

She had shadowed me simply to figure out what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kind of person I was. Even if Sylvia was as meek as a newborn lamb, the fact that my deepest secrets had nearly been unraveled over something so ridiculous left me completely hollow. Henna glared at me with fierce, narrowed eyes, practically screaming, Just try laying a finger on our girl!

Anyone watching would think I was leading Sylvia down a path of villainy. Looking at Henna, she was practically a mother sheep fiercely guarding her lamb.

Sigh.

Feeling like an absolute fool for taking the whole situation so seriously only doubled my exhaustion.

The defining characteristic of Scheat Province, situated in the northeast of the Ardelion Principality, was its ecosystem. Venturing only a short distance north brought one into a subtropical climate teeming with an extraordinarily diverse range of species. Consequently, both demonic beasts and fierce apex predators were common sights. Because of this vast biodiversity, even when categorized purely by climate, Scheat had to be divided into dozens of distinct micro-regions.

Every single local lord echoed the same warning:

"The species of beasts and monsters that surface vary drastically by territory, my lord. One must always exercise extreme caution when deploying troops."

Although Scheat sat at a similar latitude to Shirach Province in the northwest, the sheer variety of monsters made adequate preparation a logistical nightmare. For that reason, the high command had prioritized subjugating Scheat ahead of Shirach, aiming to fortify the border and cull the rampant beast populations.

Munyher set out on the expedition keeping all these cautions firmly in mind, having received extensive counsel from the Grand Duke and provincial lords.

Yet... something is amiss.

Munyher was not the only one sensing the anomaly.

"There are too many of them. It's completely unnatural. Don't you think so, Munyher?"

"I share your assessment."

Though both served as professors at the academy today, they were once comrades who had braved the empire's most perilous battlefields, standing shoulder to shoulder at the threshold of life and death. The two veterans peered out from the northern threshold of Lemtert, watching the horde of Canolatls gathered as if preparing for an all-out siege.

In Scheat, famous for its bewildering array of fauna, only a single species had surfaced: the Canolatl. The complete breakdown of established ecological patterns was an ominous portent, but neither man had the luxury to ponder its implications right now.

Skreeeech—!

The deafening shrieks of the Canolatl swarm echoed relentlessly from the outskirts of Lemtert Village. It would surprise no one if they breached the settlement's perimeter at any second. How such a monstrous swarm had gathered in one place remained a mystery.

"If they attack, we must prepare for a prolonged siege."

"Starting tonight?"

"Indeed. Subdivide the current force into six detachments to rotate guard shifts, but issue strict orders that every soldier must remain on high alert at all times."

"Understood, Supreme Commander Zelbarten."

"Call me by name. That title sounds ridiculous coming from you."

Since the founding of the Principality, a battle of this magnitude had never taken place. It was comparable to the brutal campaigns once fought in the western reaches of the Empire. This operation marked the first large-scale subjugation campaign in Ardelion's history to deploy faculty and students from Lebrant Academy.

Crackle, crackle.

The Council of Noble Elders was constantly watching for an opening. They were thoroughly displeased by the encroaching influence of the Empire and the Grand Duke, which gradually eroded the aristocratic dogmas long entrenched within the academy. By disguising sabotage as accidental mishaps and sweeping the aftermath clean with their vast resources, they had consolidated their current authority. And with that power, they intended to pull the strings of the Principality and reign supreme.

Yet recently, far too many matters had slipped out of Marquis Flochan's grasp.

"Marquis Flochan, Count Norbel has arrived."

"Show him in."

Crackle, crackle.

Watching the firewood burn down in the hearth, Marquis Flochan welcomed his guest.

"You summoned me, Marquis Flochan."

The man who had forced a retake of the Class Assignment Exam that Professor Munyher had nearly upended bowed deeply at the waist. Marquis Flochan did not spare him a glance, his gaze remaining fixed on the burning logs in the fireplace.

"That man. He is a troublesome figure indeed."

Count Norbel straightened his back slightly as the Marquis spoke, though he dared not stand fully upright. It was not merely a matter of noble rank. As the supreme leader of the Noble Alliance—the veritable master of that formidable faction—Marquis Flochan radiated an oppressive presence that forbade casual posture. Every scheme that manipulated the Ardelion Principality from the shadows had originated in that man's mind.

"Munyher Zelbarten Emerald, was it? It was irksome enough that he represents the Green Family of the Imperial Court, the Emerald Marquisate. Yet his true intentions remain utterly inscrutable."

Even so, assassinating him was out of the question. Even if the heavyweights under Marquis Flochan mobilized, the academy's inner leadership alone posed an insurmountable threat.

Denise Flovel Beryl.

Dahlia Maybel Emerald.

Jake Calau Beryl.

If those four survivors of the Mirum Decisive Battle joined forces, they could easily dismantle the Noble Alliance's core elites. Even if an assassination miraculously succeeded, it was an open secret across the Principality that no ordinary power could eliminate them. If they died under mysterious circumstances, the arrows of suspicion would point in only one direction.

If the Grand Duke of Ardelion stepped in personally to crush the Noble Alliance, it would mean full-scale civil war. After all the power they had painstakingly seized, a war with the Grand Duke would reduce everything to ash—and there was no guarantee they would win. Marquis Flochan was unwilling to shoulder such a risk.

"What of the party responsible for discharging the toxic runoff?"

"The prisoner was successfully poisoned without incident. One of the prison guards may fall under suspicion, but it will never be traced back to us."

With the final loose thread from the Start-of-Semester Evaluation severed, the cause of the contaminated water would officially be recorded as administrative negligence on the part of the faculty. Only then did Marquis Flochan grant Count Norbel a brief nod of approval.

"It seems you managed to suppress the students' suspicions adequately as well."

"Yes. However, as long as we cannot predict what exam format will be assigned, an anomaly is bound to occur. Regrettably, with my power alone..."

"Tsk. Who can fathom that man's mind? That will suffice."

What must be discarded should simply be abandoned at the opportune moment. As long as they could reclaim even more when the time came, that was enough. Such was the pragmatic calculation of Marquis Flochan, who had steered the Ardelion Principality for decades.

"However, Marquis. May I ask one question?"

The Marquis's hand, laden with dazzling rings, gave a slight shrug—a silent cue permitting the inquiry.

"At the recent Council meeting, you instructed the nobles and lords overseeing western Scheat to abandon those territories without hesitation. I wish to know your reasoning."

Recently, Lemtert Village had been besieged by Canolatls, escalating into a region-wide subjugation campaign. That meant the nobles holding land in Scheat would not suffer losses at their own expense. Yet Marquis Flochan had advised abandoning those holdings entirely.

The lords present at the Council had been bewildered, but accepted the decree simply because it came from Marquis Flochan. To dispel lingering doubts, Count Norbel asked on their behalf. Sacrificing pawns was an ordinary stratagem, but parting with such substantial territory seemed a painful loss.

"Count Norbel."

"Yes, my lord."

"Do you know what I placed in that fireplace?"

Inside the hearth, wood merely crackled as it was consumed by flames.

"Firewood... is it not?"

"Indeed. Now reduced to kindling feeding the hearth. However, those were not originally mere logs."

"Forgive me, my lord, but I do not grasp your meaning."

"Heh. Those were originally my treasured bonsai. Do you understand now?"

Count Norbel only now noticed that two bonsai trees, previously displayed beside the fireplace like prized collectibles, were missing. The ones gone were fresh, vibrant specimens shaped not long ago.

"So that was why you told me to bring this. I had no idea that was your intention."

"Precisely. How much longer must we drag around those coddled brats? They are baggage, pure and simple."

Count Norbel happened to have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the document Marquis Flochan had ordered compiled.

"Would you care to review it?"

With a faint scoff, Marquis Flochan prepared to discard yet another piece.

Rustle.

Receiving the document, the Marquis scanned the contents. Uncharacteristically picking up a pen, he drew two firm lines through a particular name.

"The Count mentioned this daughter should be removed now. The rest appears satisfactory, so process it accordingly."

"Understood, my lord."

Count Norbel bowed and withdrew. The task assigned to him by Marquis Flochan was none other than the classification of academy students.

The name crossed out... was Sylvia Coutelli.

Crackle, crackle.

Long after Count Norbel departed, Marquis Flochan sat watching the bonsai he had fed to the flames with his own hands. He watched until it turned entirely to ash, losing every trace of its former shape.