Revenge (2)
Sunday, 5:50 p.m. Lantville, address 23-04.
A desolate alley lined with shuttered storefronts. Empty liquor bottles, cigarette butts, and trash left behind by thugs littered the ground like grim decorations.
Step by step.
With a straight, elegant stride, Aria picked her way through the filth toward one particular building — a vacant shopfront hanging a half-peeled red sign.
Creak.
The moment she stepped inside, a sharp thread of mana cut through the stench of rotting dust. Aria flicked her fingers lightly, brushing the flow of that mana.
Click.
A rectangular seam split open in the wooden floor, and a trapdoor swung upward.
"My, my… If you'd only waited a moment longer, I would have opened it for you myself."
A man's head popped up from below.
"You figured this out in that short a time? Remarkable."
Burrow smiled warmly, lavishing her with praise.
"…"
But Aria did not miss the base greed that flickered, just for an instant, through his eyes.
"Please, come down this way. Everyone is waiting."
Burrow gestured to her with only his head still above the floor.
She had arrived a full ten minutes early — and still, Aria was the last one there.
She descended the stairs through the open hatch and emerged into a surprisingly spacious basement. Judging by the layout and the oak barrels scattered about, the place had once been a brewery.
Inside, not counting Burrow and Aria, stood eight academy students in total. Their eyes went wide the moment they saw Aria following behind him.
"Who's that?"
"Wait — is that…?"
"Yes. Miss Aria herself."
Burrow nodded in confirmation to the gathered students.
Oak barrels had been shoved together in the center to serve as a table, three lanterns set atop them casting the room in a dim half-light. Combined with the underground brewery's natural atmosphere, it almost felt like a secret society meeting.
"…"
Aria, however, knew perfectly well what had been hidden beyond the lanterns' reach.
"Come, come. Please, have a seat."
Burrow took the head of the table. Aria sat at the very end.
"Thank you all for carving out the time to gather here, even in the midst of such difficult days."
Burrow opened with a firm, commanding voice.
"Lately, the nobles' tyranny has only grown worse. And we are students of the same academy, no less. Surely you've all felt it?"
"…"
"…Yeah. It's been getting pretty bad."
A bespectacled male student was the first to agree. As if that were the signal, complaints poured out one after another.
"…Why the hell should I have to do his assignments?"
"They keep saying they need to 'test a spell' and then try it on my body."
"I got hit with a silence spell so many times I went a whole day without saying a single word."
"They smashed the artifact my mother left me…"
"Leave a textbook on your desk and all that's left by morning is ash. Bastards."
The students vented their grievances with heated passion — only natural, given that Burrow had specifically gathered the ones who'd suffered the worst of it.
This is going to be easier than I thought.
Burrow had only tossed out the bait at first. Now he watched their outcry with a smile. The more worked up they got, the cloudier their judgment became.
He waited for the noise to settle, then continued.
"How long are we supposed to just take it? We still have three years left at the academy."
"Don't you want to land one solid blow against those nobles who strut around just because they were lucky enough to be born into the right family?"
"We stayed up night after night studying. We trained ourselves half to death just to get into Elprime Academy. And this is how we're supposed to live?"
As if he'd rehearsed every line, Burrow worked his tongue with smooth precision, drawing the students' emotions to the surface. Their already frayed nerves began to fall into step with his.
"So… you've got some kind of plan?"
"Of course."
Burrow nodded with complete confidence.
"I have a plan in mind. One that puts no one in danger and will never be traced back to us. A clean plan. If it succeeds, the nobles' tyranny will end completely."
He cast the line with absolute conviction.
"What?"
"There's a way to do that…?"
The students eyed him with half-doubt, half-hope — the kind of hope that wanted to believe even a wild story. Exhausted minds worn thin by stress, the atmosphere carefully cultivated until now, and Burrow's speech all combined to keep their usual sharp thinking from kicking in.
"If I weren't certain, why would I have summoned all of you to a place like this in secret?"
"…"
"I need your help."
"Well… we should at least hear what the plan is first, right?"
"As for that…"
Burrow drew a sheet of paper from his coat and laid it in the center of the table.
"I can't tell you just yet. I'll share the details only with those who fully join my plan."
Intricate geometric patterns and ancient runes tangled across the paper's surface in a dense web.
"This is…?"
"A Blood Oath."
"A Blood Oath…"
Perhaps because they studied magic, every student seemed to recognize it at once — a contract forged through dark magic that killed the signer the instant they broke its terms. Dark magic was forbidden, of course, but even a five-year-old knew that nobles and major deals used it behind closed doors all the time.
"If word got out, the consequences would be… difficult to manage."
Everyone nodded. If the nobles ever learned they'd been targeted, none of them would keep their heads.
"There's nothing particularly problematic in the terms. Simply that none of us will reveal anything discussed here to anyone outside this group. That should be more than enough."
Burrow pulled out a pen on the spot and wrote the clause onto the paper.
Scratch, scratch.
Contracts of this kind usually demanded careful scrutiny — but a statement barely three lines long left no room for deception, and the students could tell immediately that the content was clean.
Burrow produced a small bowl and a short dagger.
Slice.
He drew a shallow cut across his palm and let the blood drip into the bowl. For a Blood Oath to take hold, the blood had to be shed of one's own free will. Forcing a blade on someone else and smearing them with it would never seal the contract.
"If you intend to stand with me."
Burrow set down the bowl and dagger and gestured invitingly.
"…I'll do it."
The bespectacled student moved first once again.
"Me too."
"I'll do it."
Once one stepped forward, the others followed, cutting their hands one after another. They weren't committing to the plan itself — only to keeping silent about what happened here. The burden was light. And more than anything, they wanted to hear whatever Burrow had to say.
"…"
Watching the blood pool steadily in the bowl, Burrow's smile grew deeper still.
Before long, nine portions of blood had been collected. Only Aria remained, seated at the far end.
"Miss Aria. Will you join us?"
"…"
Aria stared at the bowl before her without a word.
Thud.
She picked it up — and then one corner of her mouth curled into a long, sharp smile.
As if she were laughing at them all.
"…Miss Aria?"
Sensing that something had gone wrong, Burrow called her name again.
Splash!
Without the slightest hesitation, Aria upended the bowl and dumped every drop of blood onto the floor.
"W-what!?"
"What are you doing!?"
The students reeled at her sudden act.
"H-how!? How did you know—!"
But no one was more shaken than Burrow.
"You bitch!! Who the hell are you!!!"
He shot to his feet, ripping away the gentle mask he'd worn all this time, and bellowed at the top of his lungs.
A contract that required willingly shed blood was not limited to the Blood Oath alone.
Rrrrrumble!!
The basement began to shake violently.
"W-what's happening!!"
At the same moment, a ritual array hidden in the darkness flared to life with a crimson glow. A pentagram drawn in blood, cunningly concealed among the carefully arranged furniture, covered the entire basement floor.
Fwoooosh!
The pentagram blazed openly now, no longer bothering to hide, pulsing with light after light.
Burrow's face twisted into something monstrous as he roared.
"Fine! I'll just subdue you and—"
Aria's hand flew up and touched the earring on her right ear.
FWOOOOSH—!
An enormous surge of mana erupted at once — like a tidal wave breaking free of its banks — and swept through the entire chamber in a single crushing rush.
"Wha…"
"Ugh…"
Thud! Thud, thud!
The students struck by the mana collapsed to the ground before they could even process what was happening. They weren't dead — merely unconscious. A sleep spell stored in Aria's earring artifact.
But one student remained awake.
Rrrrrumble!!
As the tremors intensified, a thin line of blood trickled from the corner of Burrow's mouth.
"Ghhh… Damn it all!"
Clutching his head, his skin began to shift toward a sickly violet. Hideous veins bulged across what had been a clean, composed face.
"I don't know how you figured it out, but it doesn't matter! His Lordship will kill you for me!"
His voice had become a grating, metallic scrape. As if answering the call, a fissure split open at the exact center of the room.
Crack! Crrrack!
Through the tear ripped into empty air, ominous black demonic energy began to pour forth.
KRAAAAAASH!
The energy twisted and coiled into itself, shaping the form of a gaunt man — pale skin, a hollowed face, an ornate robe, and sleek hair combed straight back. He looked every bit the black mage steeped in madness.
The devil threw his chest wide and let out a satisfied, cackling laugh. Dense demonic aura streamed from his body in heavy ribbons.
"Ohh…!"
Burrow dropped low to the floor in reverent prostration.
Surveying the room, the devil realized something was off. Burrow jabbed a finger at Aria and tattled at once.
"Her! That bitch did it!"
An intrigued look crossed the devil's face.
He raked Aria with a displeased gaze — then his eyes lit up like a child who had just found a new toy.
His face flushed red with excitement.
"Thrall?"
Aria's delicate brow furrowed in pure disgust.
"There is only one person in this world who is allowed to own me."
Standing before him and still not cowed?
In the instant the devil felt a flicker of bewilderment at Aria's strangely unshakable resolve—
Shunk—!
A sword tip burst out through the devil's chest.
A massive black greatsword had driven straight through his upper body from behind.
The devil whipped his head around. His widened eyes flooded with pure, terrible shock.
"You rat bastard!! I've finally got you!!! KRAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"
Bergopf, the Devil of the Sword, threw back his head and roared with rapturous, triumphant laughter.