Denial (2)
Two days later.
With the campaign to subjugate and scour the remaining Canolatl proceeding without a hitch, the academy grounds grew livelier by the hour. Yet if there was another topic commanding every tongue, it was, naturally, the defense against the Orthoptera.
[The swarm of Orthoptera that breached our perimeter at dusk was splendidly repelled by the academy's students. Under the commanding leadership of Aris McKenhaim, the defense held firm without suffering severe casualties───.]
I confirmed that Aris's name stood front and center, while mine was nowhere to be found. Professor Dahlia had kept her word and handled the public accounting just as I had asked.
Yet entirely apart from her honoring my request, an unexpected ripple had begun to spread across the student body.
"Ah..."
The moment a student caught sight of me, he wheeled around and bolted without looking back.
"What's his problem?"
Why was he acting like that? Was his mortal enemy standing right behind me? I checked. The hallway behind me was completely empty.
Did I have something smeared across my face? I patted down my cheeks and jaw, but everything was in order.
"...It's not like I've ever had bad blood with that guy."
He was a classmate from Class E, if memory served. No matter how thoroughly I sifted through my past recollections, nothing came up. So why turn tail the second our eyes met?
"Is it because of the rumors?"
There were always a few fools who bought into idle gossip. But he was in Class E, not some sheltered noble. While rumors did circulate that I was a ruthless mad dog who clamped onto someone's throat and wouldn't let go once crossed, that only ever happened when someone picked a fight with me first. A fellow Class E student should have known that better than anyone.
"Well... suppose it could happen. Some people will believe anything they hear."
I brushed it off, thinking little of it. But then came another. And another.
Classmates, underclassmen, and even wide-eyed freshmen went out of their way to give me a wide berth the instant I crossed their line of sight. By the time the absurdity became impossible to ignore, I happened across Sylvia and took the chance to ask if some bizarre rumor had taken wing.
"Junon..."
Her reaction was anything but reassuring.
Sylvia hesitated, averting her eyes as if trying to swallow down whatever words were on the tip of her tongue. Realizing this couldn't be ignored, I pressed her directly.
"Has something strange been going around about me?"
"W-Well, that's..."
A rumor it was, then.
"It's fine, Sylvia. I just want to know what's going on, so don't hold back. Tell me."
After a moment of visible inner turmoil, she finally parted her lips.
"It's... because of what happened at Alkaid Hall."
"Alkaid Hall? Where we held out for dear life?"
"Yes... where we fought off the Orthoptera swarm. Word about what took place in there has been spreading everywhere."
Everyone had been on the verge of madness fending off the monsters; with their lives on the line, no one should have possessed the composure to pay heed to petty details. More than a few had broken down in tears watching Erika hover on the brink of death. What could have possibly sparked a rumor from that?
"Did I do something wrong in there...?"
"It's not that you did anything wrong... It's just, you went inside to assist Professor Dahlia with the surgery, right?"
"Yeah... I did."
"I don't know about the others, but the second I saw that girl, I was horrified. I had to slap both hands over my mouth just to keep from being sick... But you, Junon..."
Ah. That.
"...Say no more. I understand."
The pieces fell into place at last.
Freshmen. Enrolled students who had never engaged in true, bloody combat against demonic beasts. To them, blood was merely a nuisance that trickled from minor scrapes—a brief sting that made them wince. But they had witnessed a human ripped apart by monsters, their companion's abdomen torn open with a gaping, ragged hole.
It was a wound that commanded instinctual revulsion. Crimson viscera and lifeblood spilling as a person edged ever closer to the grave.
I had been no different once. The first time I crossed blades with a real beast outside the controlled safety of a mock duel, my hands and feet had trembled uncontrollably. And when I witnessed a comrade teetering on death's door, my knees had buckled beneath me.
But now? In the eyes of these sheltered students, I was a cold-blooded monster who didn't so much as blink when faced with butchery. A normal person would naturally recoil, sickened with horror just like Sylvia and the rest. My composure had been so thoroughly detached that it struck them as unnatural—monstrous, even.
"...So that's why you waited outside until I finished. Isn't that right?"
"Yes... I couldn't bring myself to step into that room..."
If this had only reached the level of quiet whispers, it was likely thanks to Sylvia standing by my side. She had lingered outside out of concern for me, waiting until Professor Dahlia and I concluded Erika's emergency operation.
Still, having such a reputation take root was going to be troublesome.
"Good day, children."
...It was about to get far more than troublesome.
The underclassmen and freshmen barely had their heads on straight after surviving the Orthoptera raid. Having tasted mortal terror so violently, none of them had the peace of mind to loiter around the academy notice boards. But the female professor approaching us with a light greeting was another matter entirely.
"Good day, Professor Dahlia."
"Mmh. And this young lady's name would be?"
"Sylvia... you may call me Sylvia."
"A lovely name. Pleased to meet you, Sylvia."
Dahlia cast a fleeting glance in my direction, then gently asked Sylvia if she might grant us a moment of privacy. Left with no choice, I found myself alone with the one faculty member who understood my circumstances best.
"What brings you here, Professor?"
"Nothing terribly dire. Though a minor snag has cropped up regarding what you asked of me."
"...My request?"
Dahlia let out a weary sigh and extended her hand, offering an object toward me.
"This is..."
It was the twin to the Belshuar Ark I had worn on my wrist.
"I tried to smooth it over, but this proved impossible to sweep under the rug. A few of the professors have seized on the fact that a Belshuar Ark was checked out, claiming it suspicious and demanding an explanation."
Along with the artifact, she held out an official authorization form for magical equipment requisition.
In other words, I was now required to fill the empty borrower's slot with my own name.
Traced back through the tangled threads of this timeline, the underlying cause was plain as day.
Just as during the Start-of-Semester Evaluation, the noble coalition was locked in fierce opposition against the Grand Duke's faction, and Professor Muniherr had openly thrown his weight behind the Grand Duke.
Right about now is when the nobles would look to strike back at Muniherr.
A simple equipment requisition might seem trivial on the surface, but the Orthoptera incursion itself had been orchestrated by the noble faction. They had deliberately pulled private garrison forces from surrounding fiefs to allow the monsters through, plotting to inflict casualties on academy students and use the aftermath to corner their political rivals. Having gained nothing from the evaluation exams, they were ravenous for any leverage they could find, seizing upon whatever minor irregularity presented itself.
It's because of me.
Under ordinary circumstances, Professor Muniherr would never have been dragged into an artifact dispute. Despite the nobles' desperate maneuvering, he was supposed to secure an overwhelming triumph that paved the way to purge and replace the regional lords. That was the history I remembered. Which meant...
"I'll sign it. Please hand it over."
"...Are you certain, child?"
"What's so difficult about scribbling my name on a sheet of parchment?"
"You know full well that is not what I am asking. If this surfaces, the truth you went to such lengths to bury will be laid bare before the entire institution..."
I was well aware. If word leaked that the defense of Alkaid Hall had succeeded entirely under my command rather than the official record, every eye in the academy would turn on me.
Even so, I could not waver.
These unforeseen complications arose solely because I had altered the future. Allowing the Principality or Professor Muniherr to shoulder the fallout was an unacceptable distortion of history. That much, I was prepared to bear.
My first priority remained, as it always had been, shielding the Principality from harm. In this filthy struggle of factions and politics, the one emerging victorious had to be the Principality—never the noble coalition.
"Is there anything else I need to fill out?"
"...No. This will suffice."
Noting that Sylvia was waiting outside, Professor Dahlia gently dismissed me.
"Since you seem so determined to keep this hidden, I will do everything in my power to keep it from the ears of the students."
"I would appreciate that, Professor."
As I turned to depart, the glimpse I caught of Professor Dahlia's expression seemed weighed down by a heavy shadow.
Aris spent the ensuing days confined to an infirmary bed, enduring the splitting headaches and muscular tremors brought on by her first experience with Mana Exhaustion.
Thanks to Dahlia's prompt medical intervention, the debilitating aftereffects that should have paralyzed her for days subsided within three short hours, rendering her fit for discharge almost immediately.
Yet walking out the front doors was out of the question.
They're still out there today.
Peering through the slit of the window curtains, she saw a dense flock of reporters and correspondents camped out at the clinic entrance. It was this very sight that had caused her to extend her hospital stay with a look of profound disgust.
The sudden swarm of press had converged for one reason: academy bulletins had plastered her name in bold headlines, heralding her as the paramount hero who held the line against the Orthoptera and spared the student body from slaughter.
"And what on earth is all of this supposed to be?"
That brought her to the second reason she had postponed her discharge: the towering stacks of paperwork piled atop her table.
Because the medical staff had barred all media access on grounds of psychological recovery, correspondents had resorted to bombarding her with written inquiries. To make matters worse, the academy administration had formally requested a comprehensive incident report detailing the operational sequence of the battle.
Had she been alone, she might have managed somehow. But Erika, while conscious, was in no condition to sit up and draft administrative documents. Aris had resolved to remain confined to shoulder her comrade's portion of the burden.
"I can't make head or tail of this."
A single incursion of Orthoptera had multiplied her workload fourfold. She was already run ragged trying to return the endless deluge of recruitment offers from previous raid teams; this incident had driven the final spike home, drawing the fervent attention of every former companion she had ever known.
The mountain of missives and official dossiers waiting before her was enough to make her shoulders ache in advance.
"No, this is absurd."
Her resolve hardened. This was madness.
She would step out, grant them a single clean interview, and toss the rest of the paperwork into the fire. A firm statement declaring that she already had a party lined up would bring an end to the entire circus. Wasting away buried beneath an avalanche of documents was helping neither herself nor Erika.
With her mind made up, Aris prepared to confront the throng gathered beyond the clinic doors.
"Look! Over there! It's her...!"
"Miss Aris! Please give us an account of the Orthoptera defense!"
"Lady Aris! Just a moment for the press, please! How did you direct the students under such extreme conditions?!"
The deafening barrage of questions struck her all at once, making her vision swim for an instant.
"Phew."
Though the clamor of the ravenous correspondents threatened to overwhelm her, Aris steadied her racing pulse with a deep, deliberate exhale. Just answer as planned. She parted her lips to deliver her prepared statement, but the words died in her throat at the next wave of shouts.
"Was it your own tactical judgment to mount a siege within Alkaid Hall, Miss Aris?!"
"What prompted you to deploy the Hasirt 3 Formation?!"
"Did you choose to barricade the hall because you calculated you could hold out even if Professor Dahlia arrived alone?!"
Alkaid Hall. A siege. The Hasirt 3 Formation.
And finally, Professor Dahlia.
The voice of the relief commander she had heard just before slipping into unconsciousness had unmistakably belonged to a man.
The questions thrown at her shattered every rehearsed answer she had prepared, banishing them entirely from her mind.
"...Could you repeat how this incident has been reported to the public?"
Phrases entirely foreign to the reality she had experienced began pouring into her ears.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Though she had intended to toss out a few hollow remarks before casting both the press and the documents aside, her priorities had shifted violently. Returning to her quarters after offering only the bare minimum required to disperse the crowd, Aris immediately seized the dossiers and combed through every line with frantic precision.
『The individual who commanded the siege defense at Alkaid Hall during the Orthoptera incursion was fourth-year student Aris McKenhaim.』
"..."
『Buying critical time through the deployment of the Hasirt 3 Formation, the retreat into Alkaid Hall was conducted───』
"...No."
『By the time Professor Dahlia arrived at the scene, the tactical containment was already───』
"None of this was me..."
While she had attempted to establish a rudimentary line of defense against the initial onslaught, she had never ordered a retreat to mount a siege. She had never even practiced the Hasirt 3 Formation, let alone commanded it; the only tactical deployment she had ever utilized was the standard Kenique 6 Formation.
And Professor Dahlia? Aris had only caught sight of the woman after waking from the haze of Mana Exhaustion. She had never witnessed her arrival.
As she scrutinized the documents she had previously skimmed through, the narrative detailed on the parchment diverged entirely from the truth she lived through.
Someone had fabricated the report. Someone had deliberately arranged for the laurels of this defense to be laid at her feet.
Who would do this? What could anyone possibly stand to gain from such a deception?
"It should be in here. The roster of students present at the academy during the attack."
Her trembling fingers traced down the registry, scanning names of junior peers she scarcely recognized. To pull off a maneuver like this, it had to be someone who possessed some history with her.
She passed Erika's name—an impossible suspect—until her eyes suddenly froze upon a single line.
"...It can't be."
—'All units, ─────!'
Though her mind fought desperately to deny the impossible truth, the command she had heard in those final fading moments of consciousness echoed in her memory—and Aris realized, with sickening clarity, that the voice had sounded unmistakably like his.