Marie Resti
So this was what it felt like to sail with the wind at your back. It had been ten whole days since I started receiving one-on-one tutoring from Elisha, and the difference was undeniable. The theory was sinking in faster now. I was still hopeless at magic when it came to practical application, but in magic-related classes, the days when professors praised me out of nowhere had been piling up lately. Today was one of those days.
"Oh, excellent answer, Cadet Dinauer. You may return to your seat." "Yes, ma'am."
Leaving behind Professor Erilda — the khaki-haired woman who offered praise in the lofty tones of a nobleman's lady of the house — I made my way back to my seat. Sitting right beside it was none other than Rone. This Magical Combat class was a cross-class elective with no regard for academic rankings, so it had been a while since we'd sat through a lesson together.
"Wow. How did you answer that so smoothly?" "The fruits of hard work, my friend."
At her low whistle of admiration, I looked up at Rone and answered her with a V-sign — my trademark gesture. The moment I did, I realized how embarrassing it was and hastily withdrew my hand, but too late. Settling into my seat, I found Rone giggling at me nonstop. Apparently my little performance a moment ago had been hilarious.
"Hee hee. Coming from you, it just looks stupid." "Look who's talking. Come on."
And who did I learn it from, exactly? After rapping her squarely on the forehead for that insolent remark, I turned my gaze back to the blackboard. Some raucous squawking rose up beside me, but I dutifully ignored it. Rone's anger was like a flower — withhold the water of attention, and it withered on its own soon enough.
Hm?
I had been resting my chin on my hand, staring blankly at the board, when I felt a gaze on me and turned my head without thinking. But every cadet at the end of that gaze was absorbed in Professor Erilda's lecture. Not a single one was looking my way. Just my imagination?
Except it had felt far too vivid to write off. If anything, "hostility" might have been a more fitting word than "gaze." There was a quality to it — like someone trying to carve me apart with their eyes alone. It was the kind of sensation I'd only ever felt from the bandits who had once descended on our village from the back mountain. Still, I decided to let it go, figuring I might simply be oversensitive. After all, the existence of people at this academy who looked down on me was hardly news.
Oh, Elisha's here too.
Amid all that, I caught a familiar silhouette where I happened to be looking, and warmth rose in me unbidden. To think Lady Elisha was attending class alongside the likes of me. Had I known, I would have dropped by just to say hello.
"...Bel. Why aren't you paying attention to the lecture?" "Huh...? Right, sure."
And what was with her today, anyway? One day she'd sleep straight through class without a word of complaint, and today she was being insufferably picky. Thanks to Rone, I had no choice but to drag my eyes back to the blackboard.
Clack.
At that very moment, Professor Erilda set down the chalk in her hand with a decisive thump, stepped down from the podium, and bent low. She rummaged for something and drew out an object that had been hidden from view. It was a white box. The sort of thing one often saw used for votes or lottery draws.
"Now, that will conclude today's theory lesson. Please come up one at a time and draw a number slip from this box." "Number slips?"
Since this was my first Magical Combat class, I tilted my head, unfamiliar with the procedure. Rone, who had taken this class several times before, kindly filled me in.
"They're forming teams, I'd wager? It is Magical Combat, after all." "Ah."
That made sense. The same thing happened often in the swordsmanship department's classes. But if they drew numbers to decide matchups, wouldn't there be cases of Class A squaring off against Class E? The gap could get so wide the lesson would become impossible. A fair way of doing things, or not — hard to say.
"Let's go, Rone." "Yep!"
Watching the other cadets scramble toward the podium, I rose from my seat alongside her. Ideally I'd draw a fellow Class E cadet, or someone who seemed decent-tempered at least. Best of all would be partnering with Rone and coasting through at a leisurely pace, but realistically that was a long shot.
Flutter.
Wishing myself luck, I slipped my hand into the box, caught a single slip of paper on my fingertips, and unfolded it. Number 21. Not knowing who my opponent would be, the number stirred nothing in me. Once the slips had all been drawn, Professor Erilda clapped her hands and drew everyone's attention.
"Now then — whoever matches your number is your mock combat opponent for today. Please gather with your partner."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than the room burst into commotion.
"What number did you get?" "Thirteen." "I'm eight... who's eight?"
One after another, cadets across the room held up their unfolded slips and set off to find their partners. Some bellowed their numbers across the hall, while others crept cautiously from person to person, sneaking a peek at each slip.
All right, then. Who's my partner?
"You're number 21, aren't you?" "Hm?"
I was just about to go looking for my own partner when a voice sounded behind me, and I turned. Standing there was a girl with pink hair and pink eyes that fell to about her neck. Her brows were knitted tight in open displeasure as she stared me down, yet her face was remarkably familiar. Marie Resti.
Her name surfaced in my mind unbidden, and my eyebrow twitched. Yes. Marie Resti. One of the central figures of the original story, a member of Class B alongside Phorion and a close friend of Elisha's — with a personality that could not have been more different from hers. Where Elisha was uncharacteristically respectful of commoners for a noble, this girl was the very textbook of the haughty aristocrat. Because of that, she'd frequently picked fights with Arden, a commoner, in the original story as well. Though in the ruins exploration arc that came later, Arden saved her life, and the flag was planted in the end.
"Yes, I'm number 21." Running through that brief background on Marie Resti in my head, I answered evenly. Her already slanted rose-pink brows sharpened another degree.
"If you're a commoner, talk like one. Show some respect. Disgraceful."
Exactly the personality I'd expected. In the original story, Arden — reluctant to stir up pointless conflict — had raised her speech on the spot. But I lacked that kind of generosity. I already spoke casually with Elisha herself; why on earth would I bother with honorifics for her?
"Does the young lady of the Resti family not remember the academy regulations? Or is flexing your own prestige simply more important than some trivial rule?" "Kh...!"
Despite my open mockery, Marie Resti couldn't summon a single retort. She bit her lip and let out a low hiss. Naturally. A regulation may be all but toothless in practice, but it doesn't exist for nothing. The academy was founded on the ideal of equal education for noble and commoner alike, and tearing into that ideal head-on was tantamount to denying the academy itself. Which was precisely why the other noble-born cadets never touched me directly, preferring to mutter behind my back. Belittle someone for being a commoner, and the arrow would come flying straight back at them.
Just as Marie Resti and I were locked in a pointless staring contest, glaring daggers at one another, Professor Erilda clapped her hands once more behind me and refreshed the mood.
"If you've all found your partners, please proceed to the side chambers at once. The mock combat evaluations will be held there." "Yes, ma'am!"
At her word, I withdrew my glare, and together with Marie Resti I stepped through the door beside the lecture hall and into the side chamber.
Marie Resti was Elisha Krochel's one and only bosom friend. Their personalities and temperaments differed wildly — in fact, precisely because they were polar opposites, each had come to admire in the other what she lacked, and the two had become friends naturally. Yes, Marie was haughty and prone to a certain smugness, but when it came to her friends, she was more devoted than anyone. If a friend looked troubled, she'd ask about it without hesitation. She shared in their joys and carried their sorrows — the very picture of an ideal friend.
And that was exactly why Marie had noticed that Elisha's behavior of late was markedly different from before. With good reason: the girl who had always made time for her friends after classes had begun heading off somewhere, every single day, without fail. Worse, she deflected whenever Marie pressed for details, refusing to answer at all.
So after classes one day, Marie had quietly tailed her — and caught Elisha alone with a man. But even then, Marie had let it slide. Her heart had even lifted at the thought: so spring has finally come for Elisha too.
Something's off.
But as the days piled up one by one, and Elisha offered nothing even under gentle interrogation, doubt began to bloom in Marie's mind. If Elisha had fallen for someone, was she really the type to hide it from her closest friend? As far as Marie could tell — no, she wasn't. Besides, what possible reason was there to meet the person you liked only at the library, of all places? On a fine day like that, anyone would rather go on a date outdoors, share a meal, and while away the hours together.
So Marie shifted her perspective. What if it wasn't love at all? What if Elisha was seeing this man because she had no choice — held there by some reason she couldn't confide to anyone? For the record, the after-hours library was a rather good place to escape prying eyes. Delos Academy's grand library truly earned the name — it was vast, and the number of students who actually used it was smaller than one might think.
The moment that thought took hold, Marie's paranoid imagination careened off the rails.
She might be... being made to do things she can't speak of.
The forbidden tomes — the kind only adults were permitted to read — that she had glimpsed in a bookshop in the imperial capital, back when she was barely fifteen. Their contents came flooding back with painful clarity. That man had surely done something unspeakable to Elisha. He was surely holding her weakness over her, forcing her into those secret meetings. There was no other explanation. A man who could make Elisha — who had never once spared a glance for the opposite sex — lower her guard like that couldn't simply have appeared out of nowhere. And to top it off, he was a commoner. A commoner with nothing to recommend him whatsoever.
So the doubt hardened into certainty, and today, just as she was finally about to demand the full story from Elisha — fate, under the pretext of a mock combat evaluation, delivered that man before her eyes for the very first time.
"Hey. Commoner."
The two of them stood facing each other in a sparring chamber they had to themselves. At Marie's shrill call, Bel's face twisted with unconcealed distaste.
"Call me by my name — or my family name at the very least. Do I look like 'commoner' to you?" "Spare me the noise, commoner. Never mind that. How about a wager with me?" "What kind of wager?"
When Bel frowned at the out-of-nowhere demand, Marie tugged up one corner of her mouth and answered with a smile of supreme confidence.
"If I win this mock combat, you'll answer my questions — truthfully. Whatever I ask." "And if I lose?" "That won't happen."
She knew perfectly well that he had defeated a Class B cadet, and still Marie refused to concede even a ten-percent chance, declaring it flatly. And why not? Unlike the sparring matches he'd fought, this mock combat adhered strictly to combat by means of magic — weapons were forbidden. In other words, it was closer to a pure contest of magic against magic. For a Class E failure, his movements were perhaps decent enough — but that was all. In a pure battle of magic, Marie was certain she could not lose.
"Funny — everyone who says they can't lose never has anything else to say afterward." "Hmph. All mouth, aren't you. Fine, then — I'll grant you one request of your choosing." "That's generous of you. What makes you think I'll ask for something you can afford?"
When Bel fixed her with a deep, lingering smile, Marie flushed scarlet and reflexively pointed at her own chest — though even flustered, she didn't forget to glare daggers at him all the while.
"It's an expression of my confidence that you have no chance of beating me. So? Do we have a deal?"
He had granted Elisha the right to one favor in return for her tutoring. And now, ten days later, the right to a favor had come to him from her best friend instead. Baring his teeth in a grin, Bel cracked his knuckles until they popped and squared his stance. The hour of lawful retribution had arrived.