An Ending Signals a New Beginning
A faint voice echoed and flickered at my ears, deep inside my head.
Some of them were Rone's voice, some belonged to a man I'd never heard before, and at times the voices multiplied until they were beyond counting.
It was far too close, too vivid, to be a dream—yet somehow distant and blurred, as if it weren't quite reality.
Sometimes the voices brimmed with joy, and sometimes worry seeped through every word.
Before long, a sensation like something shaking my body violently made my brow furrow.
Let me sleep, will you?
My whole body was screaming as if I'd spent yesterday sparring with Professor Seras from dawn to dusk. Whoever this was, waking me from a sound sleep without a shred of consideration for anyone else—what an insolent bastard.
The moment that thought crossed my mind, I felt something warm against my cheek and my hand.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Like water leaking from a faucet that never quite shut off, it fell onto my cheek and the back of my hand at steady intervals.
Only then did I realize, instinctively, that it was someone's tears.
Who was crying, and why?
If someone was crying... was it for me?
Strange. My parents and my sister all lived far away—surely there was no one here who'd shed tears over me.
The instant that thought ran its course, one face rose to the surface of my mind.
At once my consciousness, hazy as fog, snapped into focus, and then—like something hauling me up out of deep water—
Thud!
Stars burst before my eyes.
I wasn't exaggerating; for a moment it felt like my skull was splitting open.
"Haaagh!?"
"Nngh..."
A pained groan escaped my lips, followed by the voice of someone else suffering just as I was.
Rubbing my head—surely it hadn't cracked, had it?—I forced my eyes open to find a familiar face before me.
Rhone Elua.
My childhood friend.
"B-Bell...!? You're awake!?"
Rhone, clutching her head just like I was, stared at me with disbelief written across her face.
Only then did it register that I was in the infirmary.
And the events leading up to my collapse rewound through my memory, the scenes playing back with perfect clarity.
So I did pass out.
As I recalled it, I had cleaved through the lightning spirit I'd believed unbeatable, then hurled my body straight at Sirius's magic.
I'd managed to cut through that spell too, in the end, but the damage I'd had to endure with my body alone before that point must have been staggering. I'd spent every last drop of strength and blacked out.
Suddenly, a heavy weight settled onto my body.
None other than Rhone—the very girl who, until a moment ago, had been crying her eyes out.
Under normal circumstances the soft, supple warmth pressed against my chest might have scrambled my brain for a few seconds, but this time, no such thing happened.
Ow. It hurts so bad.
My not-yet-healed body let out a silent scream at the single torso tackle.
But what could I do? I owed her too much to push her off, so for now, all I could do was pat her back and wait for the emotion to ebb.
"Bell! I really—you have no idea what I thought happened to you...!"
"Tch. Sorry for worrying you."
When I felt something warm soaking into my shoulder, an inexplicable guilt washed over me.
I wasn't glib enough to defuse the situation with a joke, so I simply kept patting Rhone's back and decided to wait until her feelings settled, at least a little.
Click.
At that moment, the infirmary door swung open without so much as a knock, and a girl stepped halfway in before freezing in place.
A Class B cadet with a face I knew well—Marie.
"What are you doing here?"
Even I found it absurd that the first words out of my mouth upon regaining consciousness were these, but it was a question born of pure curiosity.
Marie, who had been staring at me blankly, twitched her eyebrows and let out a short sigh.
Her trademark pink hair seemed to droop a little more than usual—maybe I was imagining it.
"...Three whole days unconscious, and that's the entire greeting I get?"
"Three days? It's been that long?"
Her unexpected answer left me the one flabbergasted this time.
I'd assumed it had only been a few hours since everything happened, yet three whole days had already passed.
Did that mean the aftermath—the cleanup and the questioning—had mostly wrapped up already?
"Yes. Do you have any idea how worried the girl over there was about you? I hear she stayed up every single night."
"Every night?"
Half disbelieving, I carefully took Rhone by both shoulders and peeled her off me.
Beneath her reddened eyelids, dark circles hung in deep smudges.
Her face was gaunt and haggard too. Had she really spent three days and nights at nothing but my side? A tangle of emotions surged through me all at once.
"Well, you look fine, so that's a relief. I was worried over nothing, I guess."
"What—you were worried about me too?"
"Th-that's not what I meant, you idiot! Why would I worry about you!?"
The answer caught me so off guard that I blurted out a reply on reflex—and Marie instantly flared up, her cheeks burning scarlet.
Hold on, she's the one who said it was worry over nothing. Why is she snapping at me?
This tsundere's inner workings were utterly beyond me.
"Anyway, enjoy your time with your lover. I'll get out of your way."
Marie, who had been carrying some kind of small potted plant, set it down on the infirmary table and turned to leave.
Just as I was remembering that I ought to thank her for the visit—
One of the words she'd tossed out struck me as off, and I grabbed her before she could go.
"Hold on. What's this about Rone being my lover?"
Wondering if some strange rumor had been circulating, I asked—and Marie's face came into view as she turned back.
She was frowning at me as if I were the one failing to understand.
"...What do you mean? The girl wrapped around you right now—wasn't she your lover?"
"Not a lover. A childhood friend. We're so close with each other that I suppose a misunderstanding isn't unreasonable."
"Childhood friends?"
I nodded at Marie, who asked again as if to confirm.
At that, her brow furrowed even deeper in incomprehension, and she regarded me with a puzzled look before murmuring to herself.
"Then that would...?"
She promptly sank into her own private reverie, muttering under her breath.
Apparently this hadn't been her own invention after all—there must have been some rumor or incident somewhere that had convinced her.
If someone had been spreading baseless gossip, I intended to give them a piece of my mind, so I probed for the source.
"That what? Did you hear some rumor or something?"
"N-no, it's not that.... Anyway, if you're not lovers, then it's fine."
She misunderstands on her own, figures it out on her own, and convinces herself all by herself. Impressive, truly.
More baffling still: why did her face look so noticeably brighter the moment she learned we weren't lovers?
Was there such a thing as lookism on top of noble supremacy?
So hearing that a guy like me wasn't Rhone's lover gave her a sense of relief?
No way it went that far, I told myself—yet somehow, with this tsundere in particular, I couldn't help thinking it just might.
"Anyway, the professor asked to be informed the moment you woke, so I'll go fetch her. If you don't want things getting awkward, don't be clinging to each other when we get back."
"You think I'm doing this by choice?"
What kind of lunatic would enjoy waking up after three days to find himself wrapped around a woman, like a dog in heat? Exasperated, I fired back a retort, and Marie only glared at me sharply and gave a contemptuous snort.
"Hmph. Looked pretty cozy to me, whatever you claim."
Every fiber of my being ached to give her a knuckle sandwich, but seeing as she'd apparently spent all three days helping Rhone look after me, I decided to let it slide. Just for today.
So Marie left the infirmary, and a short while later she returned with two familiar faces in tow.
"I'm glad you've come around."
"You've been through a lot, Cadet Dinauer."
None other than my homeroom professor, Seras—and Professor Wilhelm, who had accompanied us during the exploration of the Magician's Forest.
At last, I thought, I'd get the full account of what happened that day and everything that followed. Leaning back against the headboard, I straightened my posture.
As expected, the conversation stretched on for quite a while.
It wasn't as if I was only there to listen—I had a fair amount to tell them, too.
First, a brief summary of what had occurred while I was unconscious:
Enya, who had been struck by the spirit's attack, had recovered surprisingly quickly and regained consciousness within a single day.
And the Blessing of Astesia—our greatest worry—had, thank the heavens, never fallen into their hands. It had been recovered safely.
The one regret was that by the time Professor Wilhelm had arrived on the scene, the enemies had already vanished.
They'd attempted a hasty pursuit using the blood left on the ground and the lingering traces of mana, but the trail had gone cold at some point along the way.
A shame.
I couldn't entirely mask my own bitterness upon hearing the news.
I'd been certain my final strike had exceeded Sirius's expectations and landed a proper blow.
But apparently it hadn't dealt damage anywhere near enough to put him down.
Well, considering my current skill level, the fact that I'd landed a single hit on Sirius at all was already remarkable. No point sulking over it.
After all, I'd kept the Blessing of Astesia out of their grasp, and every single one of us had come back alive. That was enough.
"I asked the cadets who were there as well, whether anything came to mind about the culprits' identities—but nobody seemed to have any leads. What about you, Cadet Dinauer? Anything on your end?"
Wilhelm, who had been transcribing my every word with a magical quill without missing a syllable, posed the question once more.
For the faculty, I supposed it stung to have not even a thread to pull on—not so much as a hint—regarding perpetrators whose crimes bore the unmistakable stench of careful planning.
In the original story, Bartever, in properly third-rate-villain fashion, had spilled his own identity right before dying, bragging that his master would come—and that was how the existence of the Followers had come to light. This time, no such scene had ever played out.
Yes, the story had already been twisted off its rails—but if I wanted to keep at least the broad strokes of the original intact, I had no choice but to force their existence into the open, by whatever means necessary, right here and now.
And the only person in this entire academy who could pull that off... was me, and me alone.
"...Would you happen to be able to cast Soundproofing Magic?"
"I cast it before I even walked in. Speak as freely as you like. Something on your mind?"
Professor Seras arched an eyebrow at my request.
So she'd prepared in advance, sensing this conversation would turn serious. Good news.
"Yes. The truth is... the mage I fought at the very end told me something rather ominous."
"Ominous how...? The other cadets reported nothing of the sort."
Wilhelm flipped through his notebook, as if double-checking the accounts he'd gathered from the other three.
Naturally. What I was about to say was pure fabrication.
If one of four witnesses suddenly told a different story, it would be more than enough to raise doubts about the account's veracity. But I had an explanation ready to dissolve exactly that suspicion.
"That's expected. Sistina had been struck by the lightning and the rear line was in chaos, so I charged in alone to buy time. It wouldn't be strange at all if the other three never heard it."
"Indeed... that does line up with the situation Cadet Elua described."
Here's the trick: mixing a lie into the truth breeds suspicion, but weaving truth into a lie builds trust. Every time.
In that sense, Rone having already given a detailed testimony of the events as they unfolded had turned out to be an excellent setup.
Thanks to her, whatever I said next would carry that much more credibility.
I drank down the water Rone had left for me and met the gazes of the two professors, who hung on my every word, breath held.
When this news had broken in the original story, the entire academy had been thrown into an uproar.
How would they react this time?
"The mage who commanded that spirit called himself a Follower. And he said that in order to resurrect his master... the Blessing of Astesia was absolutely necessary."
As the words left my mouth, the eyes of both men widened—and then they turned to stare at each other in open disbelief.
Yes. At last, they had arrived.
At the single greatest fork in the road of this world's story.