Didn't I Tell You Not to Do Anything Reckless?
"Didn't I tell you not to do anything foolish?"
Sparks flew, briefly illuminating the surroundings before flickering out.
The dagger plunging toward my neck was blocked mid-air by a longsword wreathed in red aura, sent flying harmlessly aside.
"Wh-what...!"
A bewildered voice escaped the man's lips.
He couldn't withstand the recoil and staggered back several large steps.
The figure standing before me, blocking my path—a resolute back.
Her neatly tied red ponytail swayed gently in the damp, faint underground breeze.
Esilla...
I wanted to call out her name, but no sound would come.
Temporary paralysis.
The penalty the system had forcibly inflicted was far more vicious than I'd imagined.
I couldn't move so much as a finger or the tip of my tongue on command.
All I could do was roll my eyes to take in the scene.
Esilla stood with her back to me, sword angled obliquely.
Red haze rippled along the silver blade, pulsing like her fury in my stead.
"Wh-who are you! An academy knight?!"
The man fumbled to regrip his staff, shouting as he backpedaled, sweat beading on his brow.
His intent was obvious—put distance between them, assume a defensive stance.
But his staff, drained of mana from summoning the shadow wolves, emitted not even a faint glow.
Esilla ignored his question entirely.
Thud.
She simply advanced toward him in heavy silence.
The overwhelming killing intent radiating from her red aura filled the man with terror.
He finally discarded his useless staff on the ground.
Then, with trembling hands, he reached into his pocket for something.
"Stay back! One more step, and I'll detonate this mana stone..."
Before his clumsy threat could finish, Esilla's form blurred like a heat shimmer—then she was right in his face.
Slash.
"Aaaagh!"
A scream of agony echoed as the man's right arm—the one clutching the mana stone—flew through the air.
Dark red blood sprayed from the stump like a fountain, soaking the floor.
"Gaaah! My—my arm...! My arm...!"
He clutched his severed shoulder, writhing in pain.
Esilla's eyes held no hesitation, no mercy.
She ruthlessly kicked him square in the solar plexus.
His eyes rolled back as if choking, and he crumpled to the ground.
Her military boot ground mercilessly into the back of the curled-up wretch.
"Guh... Pl-please... mercy..."
"Shut your mouth."
Her sword tip hovered at his throat.
A single trickle of blood ran down his neckline.
"Speak once more, and next it'll be your head."
Under her ferocious killing intent, the man swallowed even his pained groans, body shaking violently.
The subjugation was over in seconds.
It was so one-sided it barely qualified as a fight—just utter domination.
Her strength was indeed off the charts. No mana-exhausted mage throwing a tantrum stood a chance.
Having dispatched the man in one go, Esilla slowly turned.
Her green eyes fixed on me, collapsed on the floor.
"..."
The sound of her boots approached wordlessly.
Maybe it was from witnessing that scene, but the footsteps filled me with dread.
Soon, her red hair and green eyes filled my vision.
Her gaze swept over my body.
Blood oozing from my shoulder.
The sticky black residue dribbling from my mouth after the life force drain.
And the uniform, caked in filth, sewage, and mud—a total wreck.
I was a pitiful sight.
Still unable to twitch a finger, I looked up at her.
"Lady Bellaph."
She called my name again.
I wanted to respond, but my jaw was locked; my mouth wouldn't open.
Seeing no reaction from me, Esilla's brow furrowed sharply.
An unmistakable anxiety flashed across the face that usually stayed impassive through anything.
She hastily stripped off her bloodied gloves and pressed her index and middle fingers under my nose.
My faint breath touched her fingertips.
"...You're breathing, at least. Pulse is steady too."
A very soft sigh of relief escaped her.
Esilla pulled her hand from my face and turned her gaze to my right shoulder, mauled by the wolf.
The cloth Aria had tied as a makeshift bandage was long since soaked through, useless.
Seeing it, Esilla reached into an inner pocket of her uniform and produced a clean tourniquet.
"I'll change it to a fresh bandage."
She swiftly unwound the blood-soaked cloth.
As the torn fabric peeled from my flesh, the wound was exposed to the cold underground air.
A searing agony followed.
Then she pressed the new tourniquet hard against the gash.
Ugh...!
My body was paralyzed, but pain receptors were not—unfortunately.
The raw torment of flesh being crushed assaulted my brain.
I couldn't even groan; my eyes just quivered.
It hurts. It fucking hurts.
Unable to speak, I glared at her with all the protest I could muster.
Esilla paused mid-knot, catching my stare.
She looked down at me blankly, then spoke in a matter-of-fact, utterly indifferent tone.
"Does it hurt? Bear with it. This is nothing."
A curt, brusque reply.
But contrary to her words, her touch grew gentler.
Like handling fragile glass, infinitely careful.
"What in the world... were you doing down here?"
She murmured lowly as she finished the knot.
Not accusation or reproach—just frustrated incomprehension.
She couldn't begin to guess why I'd suddenly end up bloodied in this underground sewer.
That was the moment.
Vwooom!
The ominous mana filling the underground chamber suddenly surged violently.
"This is...?"
Esilla regripped her sword and turned toward the massive magic circle.
The red geometric lines that had blanketed the floor without gap.
They were being devoured at terrifying speed by a blinding blue light.
Pure mana filled the erased red paths, dismantling the ritual.
And at its center.
Aria, gripping her staff, sweat pouring down her face.
"J-just... a bit more...!"
Her lips bled from straining her mana to the limit.
The final connecting link of the red lines snapped under the blue mana.
Paang!
With a clear, resonant burst, the massive magic circle shattered into motes of light.
The dim chamber sparkled briefly with radiance.
"Haa... haa..."
With the circle's total annihilation, Aria—utterly spent—collapsed to her knees.
She let her staff clatter to the floor, hunching over and gasping raggedly.
Whoa~!
You did it.
You actually did it.
I cheered silently within my paralyzed body.
One of the academy's most critical and dangerous incidents—nipped perfectly in the bud.
Even as she sat catching her breath, Aria frantically whipped her head around.
Her desperate eyes searched for me amid the fading light.
"L-Lady...!"
Spotting me collapsed in blood, fresh tears burst from her eyes.
She struggled to rise on wobbly legs, staggering toward me.
"Lady, are you okay? The blood... so much blood..."
Her steps teetered on the verge of collapse, yet her gaze held only me.
But before she could reach my side.
"Halt right there."
Esilla blocked her path with an icy voice.
"Eek!"
Esilla's blade hovered at Aria's nape.
Close enough that one more step would've sliced skin.
"State your identity. Who are you, and what were you doing here?"
Esilla's interrogation was frigid, almost glacial.
The sheer intimidation would've made the old Aria quake.
And she is quaking.
Shaking just like when we first met.
Her hands flailed lost in the air before clenching tight.
But this time, Aria didn't flee.
With teary eyes, she peered past Esilla's sword at me on the floor.
"I-I'm... A-Aria Winter... first-year in the magic department..."
She swallowed hard, steeling herself for the next words.
"The lady's... roommate."