Die, Spawn of Evil
"So. Care to explain yourself? You were so confident about restoring his memories — and then you go and stab me in the back. Looks like you're about to fall flat on your face."
"Wh-what?!"
Sophia flinched.
It was obvious the two of them had been enjoying a private rendezvous.
Mikhail would never have initiated it himself. A personality exam was mandatory to become a Guard Knight, after all. Did she really think no one would notice her comforting him every night just to keep her lust for a first-year in check?!
Arlea rolled her eyes.
So this bitch got involved herself.
If she had so much as touched a single hair on Mikhail's head, Arlea would kill her. Then she would reduce Imperialis Academy to ash and grow her love with Mikhail in the fertile soil of its ruins.
Faced with that murderous glare, Sophia threw up both hands in surrender.
"Wh-why… I didn't know either, okay?"
Playing dumb, are we.
"Didn't know?"
"Yes."
"Honestly. You cast a severance barrier and still have the gall to talk so smoothly."
"Urgh—"
Sophia shuddered, clearly hit where it hurt.
"H-how did you know about that?"
Tap. Tap-tap-tap—
"Because of this."
"I-I blocked it perfectly with the pillars…!"
"As if blocking it would work."
The semi-transparent wall had kept even Arlea from entering easily — but she had put the same technique to good use during the Second Prince's rebel suppression. Thanks to that experience, she had gotten this far and caught them in the act.
No arrow, no spell could pierce that barrier. Passage itself was completely sealed off.
That is the power of seventh-circle magic: the Grand Veil.
Arlea's face tightened.
"A dangerous formula only an Archmage can use."
Wielding it freely required a mana artifact as well. Factor that in, and the number of people capable of casting it was vanishingly small.
Arlea's brow furrowed.
"You hypnotized him, didn't you?"
"Y-you hypnotized him too!"
"I did. I couldn't tolerate other bitches laying a hand on Mikhail. But we had a promise. Promises exist to be kept — not smashed to pieces."
"I didn't smash it. I-I kept to the schedule!"
"Did you now?"
Not from where I'm standing. Arlea pressed on.
They had been so cozy that a full moon had already risen. The time limit had been exceeded long ago.
"Monopolizing him is not permitted within the Empire — and a mage like you should know that better than anyone."
"…"
Arlea raised her index finger.
"This is a transaction. We both shared love with the same man. Isn't that right?"
As much as that fact disgusts me.
That something like you would covet Mikhail… she wanted nothing more than to record Sophia as the worst villainess in imperial history.
Arlea kept muttering under her breath — then the image of Mikhail's pure, innocent face rose unbidden.
He would be so sad.
He was the kind of person who clung hard to human affection.
Arlea grimaced and continued.
"…If there had been two Mikhail's, we would have wished each other luck and vanished into our own separate loves."
But if that were possible, would we even be here? Arlea's face twisted into a scowl.
"We love him. Do you agree?"
"I-I agree. I… love Oppa…"
Sophia pressed both hands to her cheeks. From those flushed, rosy cheeks, her true feelings leaked out plain as day.
Haa—
Watching her, Arlea pressed a hand to her forehead. A vein throbbed at her temple.
I'm holding back too, you know.
Did anyone think she was enduring this like some saint? She wanted to hold Mikhail just as badly. And the reason she was late was because of a whim that had already broken a contract barely days old.
Arlea was furious enough to see red.
The first bite of a feast she had been carefully saving — the mere fact of another woman snatching it away was something she could never permit.
At this rate, they would just keep looping through the same cycle forever.
"This is an absolute disaster. We'll need to rewrite the contract."
Sophia finally spilled her true feelings, shouting:
"H-honestly, three days a week is too much!"
"I allocated you three whole days and you still call it too much… Excess is as bad as deficiency. Greed for what you can't even swallow will only make you choke."
"…You get four."
"I am also busy. I only manage to claim one day myself."
Endure it. That was all Arlea could offer.
She was preparing to face foreign powers even now. She was struggling just as much.
Their relationship had made no progress, and her body itched so badly that sneaking into his room to steal a few of his clothes was the most she could manage.
Hearing that, Sophia had a fit.
"You took his clothes?!"
"Finders keepers."
"I-I want some too!"
"Denied. Those are my spoils. This was not a joint venture with equal shares."
They were mid-tirade, hurling every word they could at each other, when both of them felt it at the same time — a sudden, uncanny sense of déjà vu. The acrid stench of black magic. They stopped arguing and went on guard.
"…Something's coming."
"I feel it. Arm yourself, mage. To think the Imperial Academy's security could be breached this easily."
"Isn't Court Count Dennis in charge of that?"
"Even if he is, that man never sets foot here in his life. Why would he come? This is exactly the problem with desk-bound administration."
Arlea tightened her necktie. The stench was coming from the corridor Mikhail had left through.
And of all timings — even the Guard Knight had vanished. Moments later, hooded figures appeared, blocking both ends of the hallway.
Black veils covered their faces, but they had clearly and deliberately separated Mikhail from the two of them.
It reeked of a setup. Arlea clicked her tongue.
An ambush, then. Is Mikhail all right?
She didn't know.
Arlea drew her sword.
Aura flooded the blade in her hand. The gold-plated rapier blazed with multicolored light.
"An Aura Blade… You were a magic swordsman?"
Sophia gasped the moment she saw the sword.
"Being a magic swordsman is a matter of a past life. We both swore to bury the past. That subject is closed."
"…"
"Answer me."
"Y-yes."
Even for royalty, an Aura Blade was no easy thing to wield. Physical ability had to support it — and most important of all was the state of mind.
In that regard, Arlea could proudly claim to be the finest in the Empire.
"Mage. Listen carefully. Right now, he is clearly in danger."
"O-Oppa is… in danger?"
"Yes. If we assume those people are targeting us… there is a high chance they also allocated forces against Mikhail."
A pincer maneuver, in other words. The intent was to split the enemy's main force and crush each piece separately.
Arlea had once commanded troops on the front lines. She had no gift for strategy, but she had learned a few things at Mikhail's side.
Her crimson eyes turned a deep, cold blue as mana flooded into them.
Break through in a single stroke.
Having mastered even the old imperial sword arts, she possessed a presence that only a true powerhouse could hope to break.
Drawing on that old experience, she took command of Sophia.
"You take the south. I take the north. First, wipe out the southern forces with magic. Once they're cleared, support me in combat. Agreed?"
"…Heh, heh heh heh. Please don't turn into the sun. Oppa likes cute things, right?"
"He does like cute things. That's why he loves me."
"…"
"Look at me like that again and I'll gouge out your pupils."
"Hyaaek—"
"Just don't get in my way. If you do, I will not hold back — I will cut you down."
Their coordination was swift. Back to back in an instant, the two of them steadied their breathing.
Who were these people? Not an ordinary band of assassins.
Thieves' guilds that would do anything for money were out, and so were enemy nations. No guild would be insane enough to touch divine royalty. Enemy nations were the same — they were so terrified of the consequences they wouldn't even piss in the direction of the imperial palace.
"Then who?"
Arlea had already ruled out the ordinary possibilities. Wherever they came from, she would simply make them confess with their own mouths.
"Prepare yourself."
"Yes."
"We go all out."
Mana rippled along both of Arlea's legs — blue smoke, or heat haze, or a mirage. Something that looked half-real, half-illusion.
She offered them a chance to surrender first. Until she tasted blood, she preferred to play the merciful sovereign.
"To think vermin like you would dare appear in sacred Imperialis. I am busy, so be generous — hand over one arm each, and I will let you live."
Hoo—
"Is my Guard Knight still alive?"
One of the black-hooded figures raised a dagger. His phlegmy voice was thick with long-held resentment.
"That white-haired bastard looked like he'd make a fine whore. He's probably unconscious by now! Ha!"
Both women's demeanors shifted at once.
"…"
This son of a bitch.
"Oppa… Oppa is being defiled by other women and men… No."
I'll kill them all.
Their eyes burned.
The assassins could not have known their intent — but they had just made the fatal mistake of forging the two women's bond even deeper.