Growth (2)
The old texts said that twilight belonged to the living.
One woke at dawn, scattered the stuff of life through the morning, and returned with the harvest before the sun went down. During twilight one ate, one loved, and only then prepared to greet the night.
Then what?
Leopold had always wondered.
When even twilight faded and night came creeping in — whose hour, exactly, was that night?
Nameless things? The dead who drifted through the nine heavens? Villains who opened their eyes and stirred only after dark?
He had spent years turning over every related volume in search of an answer, and he had failed. And yet, at last, in this very moment —
Black Flash
Master Leopold found his answer.
It is that child's time.
A vast nebula of evil, like a continent of stormcloud, seized the sky in a single breath. Thunder rolled. Even the lightning that flickered through it was so dense, so profoundly dark, that the flashes themselves came out black.
Eugene, already primed to fire, looked at Leopold and asked with a smile,
"Surrender?"
Leopold snorted.
"With just this?"
It was impressive, he would grant that. Even at that immense distance the nebula's elemental density made his skin prickle.
But that is all it is.
Master Leopold's casting speed was, without exaggeration, the finest in the world.
Highest-tier defensive magic… ten layers should do it.
He had no idea how a mere freshman had gotten his hands on something with the force of a dragon's breath — but he would block it once, then counter. That would be the end of it.
I'll allow his admission, certainly. But he is nowhere near ready to stand with us against the cult.
That was what Leopold thought.
No.
That was what Leopold had thought.
A nameless sense of déjà vu brushed him — and then the mana that had filled his body to the brim reeled itself back into his mana heart.
"……!!"
It did not scatter. It did not vanish. It was simply bound fast inside his heart, and he could no longer touch it.
"Wai—!!"
Leopold flung out a hand in desperation, and —
"I distinctly told you to surrender, didn't I?"
So the old man said no.
The hand Eugene had raised came slamming down.
A gleam.
The darkness that had sat coiled at the heart of the nebula dropped toward Leopold's skull. A black meteor, packed with tremendous power.
"Oh, for crying out loud—!!!"
Leopold scrambled to prepare something, anything, and —
"Oh. A shooting star."
Eugene quietly folded his hands together.
"Please make everyone happy."
A gentle voice. A prayer.
And then —
"Guh!? GRRAAAAAAGH!!!!!"
The darkness blazed across the fortress wall, a roaring, scorching black.
"That's Korea for you."
The number one nation on earth for attacking the elderly. Eugene smiled, today as ever.
Subdue Leopold like this, then suggest they wipe out the cult together. That would do it.
But Eugene didn't know.
"Hup—!"
A heavy displacement cracked the air.
The target's coordinates have changed.
Skill Black Flash (S) has ended.
To be precise, he had overlooked it.
"Well now. Making a spectacle of myself in front of a student. I really have gotten old."
A Hero. Master Leopold.
"That was formidable power. A mediocre professor wouldn't have had bones left to collect. However —"
The name that came after: Lionheart.
"This old man is hardly mediocre."
Among the Empire's three great houses of the sword, it was the one called foremost. The Vulcanus line had Iron Will. The Marcia line had a conqueror's Overpowering. And the Lionhearts had —
"Well. That was a fairly refreshing massage, at least."
— absurdly, infuriatingly tough bodies.
"Can we get a balance patch for battle-mages?"
"Hm?"
"Nothing."
"…Hm?"
At this point, there was no other choice.
Without letting it show. Carefully.
The last remaining skill-rental from Vivian, leftover from when he had saved the Vulcanus family.
What skill was it again?
The instant he checked —
A flick.
*Suitable as punishment.
He considered it in complete seriousness. Whether even Vivian could subdue another Hero with a single flick. And whether that old man would even stand there and take it.
A small gap, born of that hesitation.
A sound like air being cut —
"Just in case I ask, but will you surrender?"
"Yes!"
"Refusing so adamantly. How very knightly."
"Huh?"
Leopold's knife-hand, already in flight, smashed into the back of Eugene's neck.
"Ah, dammit, I said I surrend—"
Eugene crumpled.
"……Should we help him?"
"No. I want to watch a little longer."
A pair of small voices, and then —
Retrieving the scattered twilight.
Unique Barrier — Forgotten Empire's Landscape — is retrieved by the masterpiece sword Twilight.
The world that had been laid over the world scattered, and was gone.
"…I suppose this, too, is a lesson."
Leopold slung Eugene over his shoulder and returned to the training grounds of the Star Inn.
⟨ Restore ⟩
A rustle, a creaking reconstruction. The robe he had torn apart mended itself, and the wand that had taken the shape of a wooden sword returned to its true form.
"Whew. It's been a while since I had to work that hard."
Only then did he recover the lofty appearance of a mage — Leopold, Headmaster of Academy Zion.
"Now then. Shall we begin the evaluation?"
He drew a sheet of paper from his robe and started filling in the grades beside each heading.
"Hss. I suppose I should add bonus points in the utilization category…"
Most of the scores were high. Some items, however, were not so easily graded.
Take his combat style, for instance.
Vivian?
What?
Obviously a lie. You actually believe that?
He used methods so thoroughly rotten that any pride as a knight or a mage had been thrown to the dogs.
And unfortunately —
That is a strength.
A way of fighting that could overturn formulaic combat and drive straight at an opponent's weak point.
Did I not fall for it myself?
Bizarre ideas, as if he had come from another world entirely, and feints delivered with a total absence of conscience. In that particular strain of unpredictability, there was likely no one alive who could match him.
But a strength is also a weakness.
Had he truly come from another world? As Leopold had already noted, Eugene did not properly use what he had.
A sword thick with hesitation.
For someone who looked every inch a villain, he was forever flinching from his own attacks for fear of hurting someone else.
He has an outstanding body — but the thing living inside it is a child who has only just picked up a sword.
Why a prospective knight was handling elements and mana at all, Leopold could not say, but that too was immature. As if he were copying someone else's magic and trying to reproduce it exactly. A glimpse of tremendous genius, and at the same time, the clumsiness of a child.
At last, he reached his conclusion.
Train him for a few years and he would be a monster who could take a Hero's seat as if it were a joke.
Put another way —
For the battle with the cult that is coming now, he may fall a little short.
Raise him as a student and nothing more? Or put him into Dawn, and set him against the cult?
The deliberation was short.
He must be brought in.
How could it be otherwise? The traces of the cult on this child's body were vivid and unmistakable.
He is already living as a double agent — or at the very least, he belongs to their lower ranks.
And even a double agent at the bottom of the ladder was an enormous advantage.
"Hah…"
A desperate situation, in which they had to borrow even a student's strength to wipe out the cult. Leopold was reluctant in more ways than one, but —
"Eugene. I saw potential in you… so I will recommend you to Dawn, at least. Those children will make their own judgment from there."
He drew out a token that resembled a coin and closed it in his hand.
"Your weakness does concern me, but with a little more polishing, you won't die."
He began to write. When he had finished, he set the paper on the floor with the token.
"Ah. Right."
Something had occurred to him. He picked up the pen again and added one more condition.
"Heh heh. I really am a cruel old man."
To tack on a condition that could not even be met. But if — if — you fulfilled even that —
"I shall take you as a companion to walk the path together."
Leopold turned and walked away.
A sting.
"…Hm?"
The arm Eugene had struck was going numb.
"…Pain?"
It was a story of a certain deep night.
He dreamed.
"Damn, that's Rania for you! Incredible!!"
"Blazing Sword!! It's hot, so hot!!"
"A hero. A real, genuine hero!!"
A dream of clutching a stinging chest while he watched the protagonist burn in all her brilliance.
"Why… why did you kill those people? You said they had nothing to do with it…!!"
"……"
"Answer me, Nameless!!!"
A scene of that same protagonist shedding tears of blood, pouring her resentment down on him.
He was curious.
Did you want to be the protagonist?
"No."
Then why did you do it?
A rustle, like something turning over.
"I wasn't the one who did it."
What rose before his eyes was Eugene.
"I didn't want that either."
He was Eugene. The one across from him was also Eugene.
Only after facing that bizarre situation did he realize this was a dream.
……!?
He wanted to ask something. He failed.
The missing former Saintess. One of the Five Heroes of the Empire.