Festival (4)
"Tch...!"
"Overwhelm him with numbers! He's only one man!"
Knowing full well that the advantage of numbers lay on their side, I had expected them to rush me once they realized it, and sure enough, they took the bait. Still, fending off a mob took a heavy toll on my body. These people weren't just numerous; unlike the amateur casters who clumsily hurled distant projectile spells, their caliber was on an entirely different level. Plenty commanded emission and transmutation magic, to say nothing of physical enhancements, and several were seasoned hands with a blade. Deflecting every blow proved grueling.
Yet before the damage could pile up, someone barged straight into the fray, bringing the skirmish to an abrupt end.
With a thunderous crack, a shockwave of compressed air rippled through the gorge, ringing in everyone's ears. A single command cut through the sudden ringing, drawing every eye to one spot.
"That is quite enough."
"Number 181...?"
The moment she stepped forward, the mutineers froze, halting their assault all at once.
"If you insist on fighting, you will have to go through me first. Do you still intend to try?"
Ordinarily, once people succumbed to frenzy, words meant nothing; most would throw themselves forward regardless of the consequences. Yet none of them dared raise a hand against Guard #181. Puzzled at first, I soon noticed the peculiar dread coloring their expressions as they stared at her.
So that's what it is.
It was a gaze I knew all too well—the look of the weak. The very eyes of those who had been broken at the Academy, who had learned the insurmountable gulf in strength and fallen into despair. Their gazes were thick with the bitter sorrow and terror of souls once trampled beneath the boots of the strong, forever barred from rising higher. They were undoubtedly dropouts who could no longer endure the Academy's harsh hierarchy. If so, then Guard #181, having just cast that Aero Bomb, was indisputably the strongest among them.
Had she taken their side, I would have been forced to gamble everything on a desperate countermeasure, but she seemed sensible enough. Aware of their pasts, she drove the point home, asking if they were truly going to take out the very abuse they had suffered onto innocent people. Struck where it hurt most, the guards had no answer. A heavy silence fell over the canyon.
Whatever the reason, the outcome favored us. Number 181 had successfully subdued and reigned in a group on the verge of turning into looters. It was nothing short of a miracle. Luck may have played a hand, but fortune was undeniably smiling upon us. Thanks to her, we had bought precious time, even if my body had taken a few bruises in the process.
Now that we had caught our breath, reassuring the crowd came first.
"We will be escaping this place shortly," I announced. "According to the leadership, there is a viable plan."
"What plan? Do you even have a concrete plan?"
"Stop lying! If you had something like that, you would have tried it already!"
The murmurs erupted anew, ripe with defiance and simmering resentment as suspicious glares bore into us. But Number 181 wasn't finished.
"Listen to what they have to say before deciding," she warned coldly. "Or would you prefer to settle this with me, win or lose?"
"..."
Her threat silenced the crowd once more. I had no idea why she was siding with us, but she had undeniably become the wild card that kept this rebellion in check. Seizing the opening, I shot a sharp, meaningful glance at the two executives behind me.
"That's..."
"Haaah..."
We have no time, you fools. This is hardly the moment to be sighing.
Spurred by my impatient glare, the middle-aged executive scratched his head vigorously, cleared his throat twice, and finally stepped forward.
"It may be somewhat extreme... but it is true that we have a plan to break out of here. It merely took time to verify whether it was feasible."
"...Is that true?"
"Come to think of it, they were discussing something earlier..."
"Maybe we were just being paranoid. You never know..."
Seeing the crowd waver, the elderly executive chimed in to soothe them.
"Please, calm yourselves. We are deeply ashamed for failing to consider your plight, and we beg for your generous understanding. The provisions meant for the festival will take a little preparation before they can be eaten, so we ask that you grant us just a bit more time."
The murmuring guards finally backed down. A final chance had presented itself. Not long after, though minor squabbles broke out, those who filled their bellies regained the fighting spirit they had lost, turning their minds once more toward escaping the gorge. The rift that had brought us to the brink of disaster began to heal, showing no further signs of worsening. Even so, our troubles wouldn't truly be over until we walked out of this canyon alive.
"Thank you for your help earlier," I said, approaching Guard #181.
"It was only natural. Standing by would have been far stranger."
"You're not disguising your voice anymore, I see."
"Ah, pardon? Oh... that's, um..."
"No need to explain. I'm sure you have your reasons."
The commanding presence that had cowed mutineers and held the crowd captive vanished instantly, replaced by the flustered tone from when she had tried to conceal her voice. Surprised though she was, my own business took priority.
"More importantly, could you lend me a hand with one more thing? I truly need your assistance."
After all, every proper climax deserved to be grand.
Goden, Michel, Senia, Charlotte, Erika, and Aris.
All six members had taken the recent examination and successfully claimed spots in Class A, finally earning the long-awaited permission to officially form their own team. Of course, Goden was the only one who knew that so far. Today was nothing short of an anniversary, and with the festival already in full swing, Goden planned to gather the members, share the news, and raise a celebratory toast.
"You said you had something important to tell us," Senia remarked, leaning back. "Why keep us waiting? Just spill it."
"A piece of news this big deserves the build-up," Goden replied with a grin. "It only has meaning if everyone's here together."
He had a crucial announcement to make, and even without naming it outright, most of them could guess it was related to the team. Goden scanned the seats, scratching his chin.
"By the way, where on earth did Aris go? Senia, you know anything? You were the last one to see her, weren't you?"
"Why ask me? We're not even that close."
"Come on now. Didn't you two make up back then? People say girls make friends and patch things up in no time."
"Goden, making peace doesn't suddenly make our personalities match. Do yourself a favor and drop the ridiculous assumption that all girls have miraculous social skills."
At Senia's sharp retort, Goden slumped his shoulders, sighing mournfully about the sorrow of being the only man on the team. The others merely stifled smiles, amused by the sight of him shrinking under her tongue-lashing. Outside of wartime, Goden was an affectionate, easygoing pushover—or perhaps a giant, oversized punching bag.
"So where did she actually go?" Goden pressed, looking around. "Does nobody know?"
"I had to stop by the merchant guild right after the exams," Charlotte answered softly, "so I didn't see her at all."
"I went to visit the orphanage for a bit as well," Michel added.
With Michel and Charlotte having accounted for their schedules, that left only Senia, who had nowhere to be. The eyes of the three naturally turned toward her once more.
"...She was completely spaced out after the exam, so I don't know the details either," Senia muttered reluctantly. "All I did was tell her to hurry up and find Goden before sending her on her way."
"Hmm... She wasn't any different when I saw her, either," Goden murmured, furrowing his brow in concern. "Don't tell me she shut herself in her room again, like last time..."
"Oh, stop that," Charlotte protested, shaking her head. "I checked on her back then, remember? You don't have to worry at all!"
"Indeed, indeed," Michel agreed with a fond smile, reaching out to pat Charlotte's hair. "Our lovely youngest worked so hard back then."
"So..." Goden grunted, rubbing his neck, "in the end, none of us knows where Aris went, right?"
"..."
Silence answered him. Just as the table fell quiet, another voice chimed in from behind.
"Don't worry. I know."
"Erika?"
"Oh, welcome, Erika!"
A fresh face pulled out an empty chair, slipping into the quiet gathering with a composed smile.
"When she visited me in the infirmary, she complained endlessly," Erika explained. "Between her prominent role in defending the Academy and all the reporters and newspapers hounding her, she couldn't earn enough for tuition. I'd wager she took on a simple commission or an odd job."
"That makes sense," Charlotte murmured. "Aris-unnie stayed cooped up in her room for quite a while after the defense battle, so she wouldn't have had time to prepare the funds beforehand."
"Oho, so that was it?"
"Honestly, she's always the one running late."
"If that's the case... I think I have a good idea where she is," Charlotte said thoughtfully. As the master of the Eshrelt Merchant Guild, her intelligence network was second to none. "Most general commissions dry up by this hour... Aris-unnie must be escorting the merchant caravan preparing supplies for the festival."
"Whoa. Leave it to Charlotte!"
"So that means we'll get to see her as soon as the festival officially opens?"
"Yes," Charlotte nodded. "The Lewen Merchant Guild, who's handling the festival preparations, should be arriving at the Academy right about now. Though... it feels like they're running a bit late."
"Late? How so?"
"Well... the Lewen Guild isn't known for being sluggish. Under normal circumstances, their vanguard should have shown up at the Academy grounds already..." Charlotte tilted her head, her brow furrowing. "And none of the opening festival goods that should have arrived by now have made an appearance either. It's rather strange."
As Charlotte voiced her growing doubts, the rest of the team felt a fresh wave of unease wash over them. Right at that moment, Senia slammed her palms against the wood and kicked her chair back.
"...Charlotte," Senia said, her voice dropping low. "The Lewen Guild is traveling through Shirach Province, crossing Ripol Gorge from the northwest of Revrant, right?"
"Huh? Yes... that's right..."
"Even for nightfall, that over there doesn't look like an ordinary forest fire or industrial steam to me."
Following her unblinking gaze, the group turned toward the window. Beyond the glass, a thick, dark column of smoke was sluggishly coiling into the evening sky. Its origin was unmistakable: Ripol Gorge, the very route Aris would have taken on her escort mission. It didn't take the rest of the members long to kick their chairs back in unison.
"...I think Senia's right."
"A Splash Out...? We need to hurry."
"I'll notify the professors and catch up with you!"
Certain that something catastrophic had occurred where Aris was stationed, the party sprinted toward Ripol Gorge without looking back.
The students weren't the only ones to detect the Splash Out; the Academy's faculty had caught wind of it as well. Reports from local residents had poured in quickly, allowing the authorities to contain the anomaly before it could spiral into a full-blown disaster.
"It appears the epicenter is just inside the gorge entrance!"
"Disperse the demonic energy before it condenses! But take care—the geological stratum here looks unstable, so explosive magic is strictly forbidden!"
"Understood!"
As the commanding voices echoed from outside, the people trapped within the gorge launched fireworks into the air to signal their location.
"Looks like the Principality's standing army," someone murmured. "I see support from the Academy as well. Thank the heavens..."
"Then... does that mean..."
"We can finally get out of here...?"
"Of course we can."
Only then did relief wash over their strained faces, hands soothing chests that had pounded in sheer terror. Color returned to cheeks that had turned deathly pale from nausea, and several people collapsed onto their knees as the strength drained from their legs. The moment their desperate prayer to escape the gorge was answered, they broke into unrestrained sobs. Tears flowed freely, their weeping echoing through the ravine in raw, choked waves.
"You worked hard, Number 181."
"Ah, yes..."
Porter #229 approached her, letting out a weary breath.
"Haaah. The plan seemed so hopeless at first that I wasn't sure how we'd pull it off. But thanks to your help in persuading the rest of them, things went smoothly. It was all thanks to you."
That isn't true.
Aris wanted to scream the denial straight into his face. All she had done was intimidate the guards when it was already too late, and cast a spell on the carriage packed with magic stones the moment he gave the signal. At best, she had merely used raw force to maintain balance so they wouldn't tear each other apart.
"...It wasn't me."
"Excuse me? What was that?"
"I didn't do this—you did! The executives didn't come up with that plan; you proved it yourself with your own hands!"
She couldn't simply let him brush it aside. He was fundamentally different from her. He was the one who had made an absurd plan succeed, the one who had persuaded these people and forged unity out of chaos—unlike her, who had shown nothing but her own pathetic inadequacy in a nearly identical crisis not long ago.
"You're the one who pulled off this plan based on complex theories, so why are you thanking me?!"
Clearly caught off guard by her outburst, he blinked at her in sheer bewilderment. The words had tumbled out in a fit of emotion, but seeing his flabbergasted reaction brought her crashing back to reality. She swallowed her anger, mortified.
I went and did it... I made the exact same mistake again...
Her hands were already gripping the cloth concealing her face so tightly it threatened to tear. Had the fabric ripped, her true face would have been laid bare. Someone's past criticism—that she was far too emotional—rang painfully true. Worse still, she had spoken informally in her fury. What if he recognized her voice? The anxiety gnawed at her stomach.
Fortunately, the worst didn't come to pass. He didn't point out her slip of the tongue or pry any further.
"...I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shrinking. "I suppose going through an ordeal like this made me irritable."
"Ah... well... no, don't worry about it. It's completely understandable."
An awkward quiet hung between them after that, neither finding words to break the silence. Outside, the rescue team finished clearing the debris, and shafts of torchlight began piercing the once-sealed entrance. It meant the time had come to part ways.
If only I hadn't lost my temper, we could have parted on good terms...
Even so, he was the first to step forward, extending a hand to help her up from where she sat huddled on the ground. He was truly a gentle soul—so kind that her chest twinged with an ache she couldn't name.
"...Thank you."
"It must have been rough being trapped in here," he said warmly. "They say a festival is underway at the Academy, so visiting might help you unwind a bit."
"I will."
Most of the survivors had already made their way out. The man in the Porter #229 uniform turned, beginning his slow walk toward the exit.
"Excuse me!"
"Yes?"
"May I... ask you just one thing?"
Normally, she should have let him go without holding him back. But she desperately wanted to ask. If she didn't do it right now, the chance would never come again.
"...I want to borrow your brilliance," she pleaded softly. "Because if I don't ask now, I'll never have another opportunity."
Because she knew that once they walked out into the light, she would never be able to meet and talk with him like this again.