Bad Ending
The instant the door opened.
"...Who dares lean against that place."
His eyes met those of a hulking man.
Red hair that flickered like flame. Scars running riot across every inch of exposed skin. And yet, a body that looked hard as forged iron.
He knew at once.
It's Vulkan.
He'd never confirmed it in the setting collection, the illustrations, even the fan art — but.
"I asked who you are."
This man was unmistakably Vulkan Vulcanus.
Keep your head on straight.
This was the man who had cut off his neck. If he made even the slightest mistake, the future he'd already seen would play out exactly as before.
He stuck out his hand first.
"Eugene."
Even the coldest person in the world tends to ease up once you've exchanged names. That's when you start talking.
"Is that all for your last words?"
"Huh?"
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
He asked, urgent.
"What did I even do?"
"Hell if I know."
"Then why are you trying to kill me?"
He lifted his head, indignant — but Vulkan answered with a face like winter stone.
"Because you're a cultist."
"What!? Me!?"
The denial slipped out for a split second. Then —
"Yes. I'm a cultist."
"?"
He conceded on the spot.
I mean, he's not wrong?
Vulkan was a hero-class powerhouse to begin with.
A half-baked lie would only make this worse.
So no holding back. Show the whole hand.
Having run the numbers in a heartbeat, he put both palms up and stepped toward Vulkan.
"But you see."
Would you believe me if I said I was a double agent?
Get Vulkan to stand down, then lay out the evidence in order and build an atmosphere where we can actually talk.
That was the plan.
"Enough. No need to say more."
"Excuse me?"
"Die."
That was the plan, right up until Vulkan left him on read.
"No, actually I'm a double ag—"
"I'll kill you painlessly."
Hi. Double agent here.
"W-wait. Wait!!"
He scrambled backward, still trying to get a word in.
"Just die."
"No, we're on the same si—"
"Don't make me laugh. You think I'd take the hand of trash like you?"
"No, what I'm trying to say is—"
"Tsk. So even the likes of you want to live. Makes me regret offering a painless death."
Every sentence he tried to get out was shut down on the spot.
No choice, then.
Even this back-and-forth was time he couldn't afford to waste. He decided to play his last card.
The Vulkan of the original story is a total girl-dad.
More precisely, he's portrayed as a father who's endlessly tender when it comes to his family. His children were so exceptional he'd never had a thing to worry about — except one.
"Have you made any friends?"
"...W-well."
"......Not yet, I take it. That's all right, Rania."
He worried about Rania's social life enough to offer advice every time they met.
So if Eugene said this —
"I'm friends with Rania."
What could the man possibly do?
But the next moment.
"Don't make me laugh."
Vulkan answered with a dead-serious face.
"There's no way my daughter has something like a friend."
......Aren't you being a little too harsh?
Again.
The same dream, repeating once more.
The dream always began in splendor.
"The cultists and the Evil God have fallen!!"
"Who's that standing there?!"
"Lady Rania! It's Lady Rania and no one else!!!"
The dream always began in splendor, just like this, and —
"Long live Lady Rania!!!"
"Long live House Vulcanus!!!"
"Long live the Iron-Blood Knight!!!"
— she stood surrounded by countless people, receiving their welcome as if it were the most familiar thing in the world.
A sun shining bright. Petals scattering on the wind. Eyes glittering with admiration, like stars.
And yet — why?
"...That's right."
She was crying.
"Because I'm a hero."
Crying more wretchedly than she had ever seen, the sorrow hidden behind a smile.
And as she wondered why, the whispers came — so vivid they might have been from yesterday — from people whose faces had been blotted out in black.
"Rania. People who don't know you well say you're stiff and cold, but we know better than anyone that you're deeper than any of them."
"I don't know what you've been through, but when this journey is over, I hope I can get closer to you. When that time comes, you too......"
"You'll tell us your story, right?"
That was when she always understood.
It's about time to wake up.
Driven by the compulsion to save them and the impatience blooming in her chest, her eyes would open.
But today was different.
"Why were you all in such a hurry to go first?"
She didn't wake.
"Please forgive me for breaking the family's tradition. But if I die as well, it isn't a place anyone will be able to enter anyway, is it?"
A scene she had never seen before followed as vividly as if she had lived it only a moment ago.
"Wh-what happened to the family grounds?"
"That is...... the cultists' attack collapsed the very earth itself."
"Ah...... Ahhh......!!!"
Why had she been crying, and what had she been despairing over?
No use wondering.
This dream only ever showed. It had never once explained a thing.
When am I going to wake up.
She needed to wake up already. First she had to have breakfast with Mother, soothe the grumbling second child, chatter with the adorable youngest.
And.
She had to go see Father, and tell him that she was all right......
In that instant, her chest tightened.
It's okay. I'm used to this by now.
Ever since the day Father had taken to his sickbed, she would occasionally find herself suffocating like this.
Why is that.
There were plenty of guesses, but she couldn't admit any of them. If she accepted those things —
...I might fall apart.
And she had far too much to protect to fall apart now.
Her beloved family. The people of the house. The people of the territory. All of them expected things of her, and only by meeting those expectations could she protect them.
That's why I'm afraid.
Afraid she wouldn't live up to them.
That's why it's so heavy.
This was the path given to her, and if she failed, everything ended.
No.
Don't think about it.
Everything will be fine. She's worked hard, and she has talent. She'll reach the destination somehow, and they'll all be happy together.
......I am a little jealous, though.
She wished someone like her would show up and fight for her happiness in her place.
And so, as she quietly watched it all unfold like a tragic play —
"...What are you doing?"
The heroine of the tragedy, the red-haired woman, looked her way with tears of blood.
In that instant.
A thud.
As if her heart had dropped through the floor, a massive roar crashed in, and every feeling in the world came flooding after it.
Pain. Sorrow. Resentment.
Those scenes she'd just watched — they weren't a dream?
Sorrow again. Emptiness. Yearning. And sorrow, once more.
It was —
— an emotion she was feeling for the first time in her life. The kind that made death seem preferable.
"Hah—!!"
Rania's eyes snapped open of their own accord.
"Hah...! Hah...!"
Dragging in ragged breaths, she looked out the window without thinking —
A pale violet explosion roared across the grounds, annihilating the area without a trace.
She drew up her aura at once and studied the site of the blast.
Two fleeing assailants. And chasing after them —
"......Lady Vivian?"
What on earth was going on?
Was the mansion attacked?
The thought had no sooner formed than Rania turned without a shred of hesitation. She reached for the sword she'd set aside —
"......Sir Haviel."
She met a pair of blue eyes.
"...You should have just stayed asleep."
Rania could be a little slow in everyday life, but when it came to combat, they called her a genius.
He's betrayed us.
She grasped the situation from that single sentence, then measured the distance between herself and the sword.
But there was one thing Rania did not have.
"In a situation like this, one ought to follow instinct rather than reason and analysis."
Experience.
Hibernation (A)
A silvery azure blade thrust in a single stroke, aimed at Rania's heart.
"I really am her friend."
"Trying to deceive me with sweet words. You're as filthy and cheap as you look."
"Keep that up and I'll start swearing too."
"I thought you were my daughter's friend?"
"Whoops. Almost blew it."
Vulkan's stance was unyielding.
"Hah...... Keep getting drawn into conversation. Enough. No more idle talk."
He finished preparing to swing — the same way he had in the future Eugene had glimpsed, as if he might cut him down at any instant — and asked,
"Any last words?"
Yes. That exact stance.
He'd lowered his grip on the sword as if he couldn't be bothered, but it was actually the optimal path into a high guard.
I fell for it and got my head cut off.
But there would be no more letting his guard down.
About here? No. It was longer than I thought.
Recalling Vulkan's attack range, he retreated far further than his estimate.
"...So he wasn't just a big mouth."
Vulkan, too, seemed to realize he'd dodged, and his expression hardened despite himself.
Eugene didn't let that opening go to waste. He dumped everything out at once.
"No, I am a cultist, but I'm a double agent, and I really am Rania's friend, and I've got all the proof right her—"
He was fishing out Cheolsu's black token and Bright's black token to hand them over when —
Please bring a true happy ending to the novel Protect the Academy!
UPON SUCCESS
Destruction of the world of Protect the Academy.
UPON FAILURE
Continuation of the world of Protect the Academy.
A system window bloomed out of nowhere.
And not just that —
The world's protagonist, Rania Vulcanus (B+), has less than 10% HP remaining.
— together with a warning he could not possibly ignore.