12. The Melancholy of a Certain Protagonist
12. The Melancholy of a Certain Protagonist
Meeting with Milia was not difficult. She had applied for a living assistance scholarship, as it turned out.
I went to the Administration Department office at a suitable time, greeted everyone politely, requested a room, and had her called in on the grounds that I had scholarship-related matters to discuss.
Normally, professors would be in their private rooms or labs, but there were mandatory office hours and meeting times. I timed my visit to coincide with those.
Such consultations between students and staff were commonplace at the academy. The only irregularity, if you could call it that, was the Finance Director himself showing up for a mere scholarship matter.
"Who exactly is this student, Milia? Does any professor know her?"
"She's a civil engineering major. A 3rd Rank mage."
"That's it? That one thing brought the... the Finance Director here?"
"Hmm, I hear she's slated to join the Student Council."
"Ah."
The question resolved itself instantly.
The Student Council wasn't the special part. Everyone knew about the current relationship between the 'Student Council President' and the 'Finance Director.'
There was no way they wouldn't. After all, I—the Finance Director—had been an Administration Department student myself only two years ago. The professors who taught me then were still here.
They were still somewhat dazed that a former student of theirs had suddenly become the Finance Director, a man holding the very lifeline of their salaries. But since I treated my former teachers with utmost respect, no one viewed me negatively. In formal settings, I dealt with everyone equally, and while I didn't give all Administration professors preferential treatment, the ones who had taught me had acquired an excellent personal connection.
Especially after the Magic Department received jaw-dropping pay cuts, the Administration professors had been noticeably humbler.
Watching someone hold a sword and watching them swing it right in front of you are two entirely different experiences.
"If it's the Student Council, it can't be helped. After all the trouble they went through as students..."
"Honestly, I still can't believe it. Those two, who were always causing incidents—Finance Director and Student Council President? Especially Adam, well..."
"We were all thoroughly deceived by Kassandra. First it was 'an earthquake will strike the entrance ceremony, we must postpone it,' then 'monsters will attack the outdoor training, we must prepare,' then 'there's a traitor in the academy'..."
Aside from all that, the professors accepted it because of the connection between me and Kassandra. The two of us were famous in the Administration Department in many ways.
How many dark histories had Kassandra created for me? How many professors had earnestly suggested I visit a church because they thought I had a mental illness?
In the end, I found out Kassandra was the cause, but until then, the prevailing theory among the professors was that I suffered from delusional disorder.
Given that history, no one questioned my personal involvement in a single student's scholarship.
From my perspective, any matter that might tangle with *that* Kassandra demanded extreme caution.
The professors thus convinced themselves naturally and returned to their own work.
"Um, Finance Director? You called for me..."
"Please, come in, Student Milia."
And so, I was able to make contact with Milia quite naturally.
The meeting would remain on official record, but paradoxically, no one would suspect anything. I intended to do everything possible to keep Milia's identity from being exposed anyway.
I smiled at the hesitant Milia and, first, slid the scholarship documents toward her.
Using formal speech to build rapport was a bonus.
"My name is Adam Caines, Finance Director. I've come regarding the scholarship you applied for, Student Milia."
"The, the living assistance scholarship, right? Did I get it...!?"
"First, please sit. I understand you have no lectures after this, so would it be alright to talk at leisure?"
"...Yes."
That expression just now looked genuinely desperate. It must be an act, though. Even if the Wish Order is a heretical cult, there's no way they'd fail to provide operational funds to an infiltrator sent into enemy territory like this academy.
The scholarship application was probably a pretext, a foundation for various schemes. I didn't yet know what those schemes were.
I calmed the agitated Milia and seated her. I handed her warm tea to drink.
I projected the softest, most benign atmosphere I could.
"First, let me give you the conclusion. Regrettably, Student Milia, you are not eligible to receive the scholarship at this time."
"What? Why, why not!?"
"Your grades, peer relationships, volunteer work, and attitude scores are all satisfactory, but... there are a few issues."
"What kind of issues? I checked all the conditions thoroughly...!"
"As you say, other areas are fine. But there is something you need to know, per academy regulations."
"Need to know?"
"Here. The section on your origin and background."
I smoothly slid the scholarship documents I had been holding over to Milia. More precisely, her scholarship application.
The application was completely blank except for the most essential entries. Despite that, her grades and conduct were good enough that she had been selected as a candidate.
This was exactly the sort of situation where academy regulations became useful.
"B-but, the professor said I didn't necessarily have to fill out this section..."
"That is merely a matter of convenience. However, according to Scholarship Regulation Article 12, Clause 6, applicants for the living assistance scholarship must provide a detailed background and history to demonstrate genuine need for essential living support."
"That's..."
"Ordinarily, we'd have let it pass amicably. But unfortunately, Student Milia, your case is somewhat... unusual. I must verify it myself."
A lie. There were far more unusual cases than Milia's. How many students does this academy have?
Even if hers were a genuinely unusual case, it would never reach my desk. Would anyone be insane enough to ask the Finance Director to process a single student's scholarship?
This was simply a pretext. An excuse anyone versed in the academy's paperwork would find absurd—but a student would not.
Even an infiltrator from the Wish Order was, ultimately, just a student who had entered the academy barely over three months ago. There was no way she could be that familiar with the academy's inner workings already.
Indeed, Milia's expression was full of despair... Was I imagining it, or did it look like a slightly different kind of despair?
"Please don't be too nervous. I came to hear your story in person precisely because it seemed difficult for you to put it in writing on the application."
"Story?"
"Background and history are simple matters, aren't they? Once I've heard it and deemed it reasonable, the scholarship will be disbursed immediately."
This was where my plan began. Using the scholarship as a pretext to approach Milia.
Naturally, I couldn't expect to achieve everything at once. There were still about three weeks before finals, and if I immediately asked Milia, 'You're with the Wish Order, aren't you?' it would be over right there.
The reason she couldn't write her background was simple. She couldn't exactly write 'Wish Order' truthfully.
She could make something up, of course, but Grandis Academy is generous with scholarships. There'd be no reason to write a lie that could be exposed when leaving it blank was permitted.
That was the result of having so many scholarships practically thrown at students. For a high-value scholarship, maybe, but a living assistance scholarship wasn't large enough to warrant scrutiny, so it usually slid by.
'She'll make something up, obviously.'
Then I'd simply investigate that fabricated background thoroughly. If the lie were revealed? I'd interrogate her. If I found evidence linking her to the Wish Order? I'd interrogate her then, too.
I shouldn't be the one to imply I already knew about Milia and the Wish Order. The slip, the exposure—it had to come from her side.
That was the only way to proceed with the discussion while holding the upper hand regarding the terror plot.
It was an essential process for my position, since I needed to intervene in the terror attack itself and control its direction.
But.
"W-well, that is. The thing is..."
"...?"
How to put this.
Milia's reaction had been odd for a while now.
A look of genuine panic, of complete discomposure.
'An Order infiltrator would have gone through elite training.'
The emotion felt too real to be an act designed to make me drop my guard. No matter how much I tried not to be deceived, the instincts I'd honed doing the Finance Director's job whispered to me.
That person is genuinely panicking. It's no act.
Of course, I had no intention of proceeding based on gut feelings like that. None at all. And yet.
"I-I came from Milio Territory!"
"Milio Territory? Where is that? Who is the lord?"
"Uh..."
Milio Territory? I knew of no such territory in the Kingdom. She hadn't just tweaked 'Milia' a little, had she?
More importantly, why was she babbling so incoherently? This was beyond any act meant to lower my guard. It was at a level that even a completely ordinary civilian would find suspicious.
Just as suspicion flickered in my eyes.
"A-actually! I came from Nocturne Territory!"
"...Ah, I see."
"Yes! I was living there until I came here!"
"But as far as I know, Nocturne Territory was devastated by the Wish Order and is entirely uninhabited."
"..."
Milia fell silent, her eyes saying, 'I've messed up.'
When someone hands you a self-destruct this spectacular, it's only polite to step forward.
I scrapped all my existing plans and eyed Milia quietly.
"Student Milia, allow me to ask you directly."
"That..."
"What exactly is your relationship with the Wish Order?"
I tried to project as much pressure as I could, but I was 1st Rank and Milia was a 3rd Rank mage. If she seriously tried to shut my mouth, I couldn't resist.
There was no real danger, of course. I had a trump card on my person, and more importantly, the Chairwoman was protecting me from afar with her Rigid Energy.
How would Milia react? Would she deny everything? Try to silence me? Or come out boldly?
While I was hastily constructing possible responses for every move she could make.
Milia.
"...'m sorry."
"Pardon?"
"I'm sorry! As you said, I came from the Wish Order! Please, please forgive me!"
"No, well."
"I know well what the Order did to the academy before, but I have absolutely nothing to do with that now! More than anything, the Order itself has fallen badly!"
"Student Milia?"
"I entered the academy in the first place because the Order seemed to have no future no matter how I looked at it, I just wanted to at least get a diploma! Lately I keep having these strange dreams, it's been hard! I don't care about the scholarship or anything, just please don't expel me!"
She lunged.
She suddenly burst into tears, grabbed my leg, and started begging—she's pulling my pants off!!
The Chairwoman's Rigid Energy might protect my body, but it didn't stop my pants from being pulled down. In the end, since Milia was 3rd Rank and stronger than me, I had to desperately fight her off.
In that moment, caught so utterly off guard by the completely unforeseen response that I froze, clutching at my descending trousers—
"Adam—Finance Director! I heard a loud noise, what is—!"
"What's going on!?"
"Huh...?"
The professors, having heard Milia's outburst, burst into the room.
They discovered Milia, on her knees, crying and clutching my leg, and me, frozen in an extremely awkward posture holding onto my pants.
Under the profoundly complicated gazes—curiosity and contempt alike—now forming in the professors' eyes.
'Ah, fuck.'
I had a sudden, irrational craving for a cigarette...
*
Several days had passed since Rus had become Student Council Vice President at Adam's suggestion. In that time, Rus had gathered various pieces of information.
Not much of it useful, admittedly—but better than nothing.
Vice President in name only, she had never even been to the Student Council room, having met the President several times in cafés instead.
What Rus was most closely watching lately was the Wish Order.
'Whatever else happens, I have to do something about those fanatics.'
The Wish Order would cause an incident at the academy. The scale wasn't large, but Rus remembered the madness of those people all too clearly.
And the Order's infiltrator, Milia.
She'd recently been seen growing close to Beatrice, which made her the highest-priority target for observation.
'For some reason, she seems a little different from the personality I remember...'
Rus had been wary of her as a teammate during the uninhabited island midterm, but Milia was unquestionably different from the fanatic Rus had known.
Gone was the blazing loyalty and ambition toward the Order; instead, she seemed profoundly timid and anxious.
If it were an act, it would be convincing—but Rus had also been secretly watching Milia whenever she met with Beatrice afterward, and she was remarkably consistent. So consistent it was hard to believe it was an act.
Most importantly, the Wish Order was extremely wealthy due to its nature of granting wishes. Their peculiar method of squeezing offerings exclusively from the lower classes rather than the upper classes was certainly inefficient, yet it had still allowed every branch to amass considerable funds.
The Rus of before had, after killing Wish Order fanatics, either distributed their enormous assets or put them to practical use... well.
'Is the poverty-stricken appearance also an act?'
Rus had money from the rock salt mine, but she was frugal out of habit, and so she often ran into Milia.
Milia also frequented discount stores and grocery shops—places hardly appropriate for an infiltrator from a wealthy religious order.
Wouldn't it be more normal to use those ample funds on intelligence activities, rather than spending time pretending to be poor?
She had her doubts, but as it made surveillance easier, Rus had been following Milia's movements.
'No way...!'
In one moment of distraction, Milia had vanished. Asking another student, Rus learned she'd been called to the faculty office about a scholarship.
In that moment, she became certain. An infiltrator from the money-flush Wish Order would never need a scholarship. This was undoubtedly something related to the Order's activities.
She hurriedly grabbed the Dark Sword, concealed herself in the shadows, and rushed to the faculty office.
If she was lucky, she might be able to seize the Order's trail right here. That was what she thought.
"Finance Director, what on earth is this...? What were you doing with Student Milia?"
"I know I shouldn't call you this, but... Student Adam. I'm disappointed."
"Don't tell me, in this room, with a student...?"
"A misunderstanding. All a misunderstanding."
"..."
What entered Rus's eyes was Adam, awkwardly clutching his pants, with the much-watched Milia on her knees before him.
Why? Why Adam? What was his relationship with this fanatic bitch?
For a moment, Rus's thoughts stopped. Then—
'Adam. You...'
The sense of defeat she'd felt eavesdropping on the Chairwoman and Chloe's conversation. The sense of betrayal at the thought he might have been involved with this fanatic bitch. The anger and fear she'd felt from the former Adam. And the relief at finally seeing the face of the Adam she'd kept wanting to meet—all these swirled together.
Quietly, she sharpened the Dark Sword's edge.
If Adam really had done *that* with this fanatic bitch.
'Better to.'
To kill Adam, and die herself. Because if Adam died, even if the Chairwoman died, the world wouldn't burn.
Was this a side effect of the Dark Sword? Was she thinking too extremely?
As she considered this, stroking the Dark Sword, Rus's eyes were... bleakly, lifelessly dead.