Staged Estrangement (1)
The plan to kill Prince McHart was proceeding in secret, with painstaking care.
Honestly, McHart himself wasn't much of a threat. He was timid by nature, lacked any real seriousness, and poured all his energy into a life of debauchery—which meant he was hardly a strong opponent to begin with.
Comparing how long it took him to blossom into a demon against the other characters only confirmed how weak he was.
In the original story, Karaham, who like McHart borrowed the power of the demons, finished his demonic blossoming in less than a year, while that sorry excuse for a prince took a grand total of five years.
The community used to meme about it constantly—how raising one McHart took as long as raising five Karahams, and yet his performance was so bad that five McHarts combined still didn't match one Karaham.
In terms of pure guide difficulty, McHart as the Part 4 boss was far easier than Harold, the Part 2 boss, or Margrave Auguste, the Part 3 boss.
And right now, he hadn't even managed that much—he remained a mere human borrowing demonic power. McHart, not yet a demon, posed no real threat to a party that took the fight seriously.
So why couldn't we simply kill him before he blossomed? One reason, and one reason only: he was *imperial family*.
He wielded demonic power, yes, but until the blossoming he wasn't a demon. Kill him in his still-human state, and it becomes the crime of murdering a member of the imperial bloodline.
That left us with two prerequisites for eliminating McHart.
First, lure him into letting his guard down so we could somehow maneuver him into a fight on our terms. Second, manufacture evidence—some means of proving, even after his death, that he had been colluding with the demons.
…and for that first prerequisite, the plan we came up with was a staged falling-out between Agnes and me, played out through our final evaluation duel.
*Right now, McHart sees Agnes and me as the best of friends. Somehow, I have to make him believe otherwise.*
There was exactly one reason McHart couldn't easily touch me at the Academy: Agnes or Ethan was constantly clinging to my side, keeping him in check for every hour we spent on campus.
Mornings during major-class hours, Agnes kept watch; on the walk back to the dormitory in the afternoons, it was Ethan's turn.
McHart was spineless at heart, which made him careful whenever his own life was on the line. Like last time, he wouldn't come after me unless he was absolutely certain he could win.
But he hadn't given up his obsession with me either, so he'd be waiting for any gap to open, any chance to get his hands on me. Even in the game, McHart was portrayed as disturbingly obsessive in his own way.
Ethan he knew he couldn't touch—my master, sharing my dormitory besides. But Agnes was different.
Stage a convincing situation showing her and I had grown apart, lull McHart into complacency, and get him to attack me again, just like before.
To launch that first step, one week before the evaluation duels, Agnes and I had a perfectly ordinary little chat in front of the Academy's central hall—pretending, as always, to be drifting from the Magic Department building toward the Swordsmanship one. The opening move of the operation to lower McHart's guard.
"Shall we begin, Lady Agnes?"
"Are you sure about this? I still think we don't have to go this far."
"If we don't do it now, I might spend next semester, and the year after that, and every year after *that* with my life hanging by a thread because of Prince McHart. You're right, it probably isn't necessary. But if I'm going to regret anything later, I'd rather regret it after doing everything I possibly could."
"…Fine. Let's do it."
With that, Agnes and I settled side by side on a bench near the fountain in front of the central hall and began talking—louder than usual, on purpose.
Loud enough for everyone nearby to catch every word.
"You really worked hard this semester too, Lady Agnes."
"…You too, Lilith."
"Top of the class again this term, I hear? Honestly, I could never hope to keep up with you."
"…That's not true. You did well too."
We'd rehearsed this several times beforehand, and even so, it sounded reasonably natural.
Agnes was no trained actress, and her tone was a touch stiff, but it was nowhere near the level where a listener would find anything strange.
Besides, Agnes barely opened her mouth around anyone but me or Seraphin anyway—nobody here knew her well enough to compare notes and notice the difference.
Satisfied that things were flowing according to plan, I kept the conversation going with unruffled composure, deliberately raising my voice as students began drifting closer, giving them ample opportunity to eavesdrop on Agnes and me.
"All that's left now is the final evaluation duel, right? Have you decided who you're facing, Lady Agnes?"
"……!"
"……."
The moment the words left my mouth, I felt a strange stir of attention gathering around us, eyes locking on.
Especially from the Magic Department students, the ones clutching oversized staffs or draped in cloaks that boosted their mana sensitivity. Naturally enough—the Magic Department's major classes had just let out.
This was a conversation that would reveal Lady Agnes's evaluation opponent, after all, so the Magic Department students were listening with rapt attention. Mostly, of course, praying *please, anyone but me* under their breath.
Agnes had noticed the attention and the stares just as I had, but she didn't miss a beat, delivering her rehearsed lines with perfect calm.
"Yeah, I've decided."
"Could you tell just me, maybe?"
"Why? Have you considered the possibility that I picked *you*?"
"I suppose that's not impossible, but I doubt you'd have chosen me, Lady Agnes."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well—I'm your friend, aren't I? If you ever wanted a sparring match, I'd oblige you anytime. There'd be no reason to designate me on something as important as the evaluation exam."
"…Yeah. You're right. It's not you, Lilith."
"……."
"Th-then why only me…?"
The instant Agnes announced it wasn't me, another wave of movement rippled through the crowd around us.
For some reason I thought I heard Isolve's voice—poor girl who got pummeled by Agnes in last year's evaluation—but I had neither the time nor the luxury to track it down.
Meanwhile, the Magic Department students who'd been loosely encircling us in anticipation of a long conversation each began deploying their own methods to eavesdrop.
Wind magic's *Whisper on the Wind*, arcane *Mana Transmission*, and a whole medley of other eavesdropping spells—the Magic Department through and through.
Normally, if anyone tried this during one of our conversations, I'd scramble the surrounding mana to shut it down. Instead, Agnes and I suppressed even the mana that naturally leaked from our bodies, deliberately leaving their eavesdropping undisturbed.
Because what we were saying right now couldn't be a secret whispered between two people. It had to become gossip, spread to as many ears as possible.
"Not Lilith. I'm going with Karan."
"Kyaa…mmph—mmph?!"
"……."
"……."
I could have sworn I heard the tail end of Karan's scream, but there was no hope of checking. I simply noted, inwardly, that the Magic Department's #3 was also listening in on this conversation.
The abrupt cutoff suggested the other students had hastily clapped their hands over someone's mouth. Any commotion risked exposing their eavesdropping spells along with it.
"You mean Lady Karan Iris Stormweaver, ranked third in the Magic Department?"
"Yeah. She's the strongest after you."
"Come to think of it, last year you faced Lady Isolve, who was second in our year. A very Agnes-like choice, all things considered."
"And what about you? Who's your evaluation opponent?"
"Hmm, I haven't decided yet. But there *is* someone I'm considering."
"……!"
"……."
"……?"
The mana riding the eavesdropping spells thickened all over again at the prospect of learning my opponent as well as Agnes's.
Even setting aside Agnes, the untouchable top of the class, I was second-ranked—and every bit as daunting an opponent to draw in the evaluation.
Some of the students who'd watched my duel against Luke last year probably considered me *more* troublesome than Agnes. Fighting with daggers meant they'd have to prepare for close-quarters combat on top of ranged attacks—a genuinely difficult matchup at the student level.
So it was only natural they were hanging on my next word. And I was not about to give them the answer they wanted.
From the moment this conversation began, there was exactly one thing I wanted.
Right after the Magic Department's final major class let out, in front of the Academy's central hall where the crowds were thickest, deliberately leaving our eavesdropping unblocked to draw every Magic Department student's attention—all of it had been for *this* line.
"Oh, by the way, Lady Agnes."
"Hm?"
"That curved magic circle you submitted for the final project this semester."
"…Yes?"
"I know I'm only saying this now, but—did you know I thought it was genuinely terrible?"
"…?!"
"…!!!"
"……."
Merely letting it be known that we'd fallen out would never have been enough to lend the rumor credibility.
To sell the performance of a rift between Agnes and me, we had to show, clearly and unmistakably, the reason behind the rift.
