12. The Melancholy of a Certain Protagonist
12. The Melancholy of a Certain Protagonist
Milia. That name was impossible to forget.
The youngest bishop in the Wish Order after the academy's collapse, an archbishop not long after, and finally its pontiff — an ambition incarnate.
What I only learned later was how remarkably convenient it was that the sitting archbishop and pontiff both suffered "mysterious accidental deaths" along the way.
That she had attended Grandis Academy too... I hadn't known. We'd been in different departments, and Milia had practically zero presence on campus back then.
But whether anyone wanted to or not, after the academy fell, the entire continent had no choice but to remember the name Milia.
Because once Kirke's terror campaign finally toppled the Holy Kingdom for good,
the Wish Order — Milia — rampaged across the land, declaring they would be the new Holy Kingdom.
—I am the savior of this new world, the one true Pope of this continent!
With that pronouncement, Milia rallied the suffering lower classes under the banner of "wishes" and raised an army.
Of course, most of them were 1st or 2nd Rank. Considering the Empire wouldn't even conscript anyone below 3rd Rank, calling it an army was generous.
But their numbers were genuinely overwhelming.
In a continent already thrown into chaos — the academy in ruins, the Holy Kingdom destroyed, the Kingdom mired in civil war — a religious order that promised to "grant your wishes" swelled its ranks explosively.
The Empire, wary of the threat, dispatched a single 8th Rank Transcendent to exterminate them.
'That Transcendent died instead.'
I heard it was a horrifying battle. Even as a single 8th Rank attack killed hundreds of lower-class faithful, the Wish Order converts hurled themselves forward in a frenzy, heedless of the slaughter.
An 8th Rank represents the apex of power any living being can attain, but that doesn't mean one can single-handedly annihilate an entire continent. They are still human. Stamina has limits.
The 8th Rank carved through tens of thousands, then hundreds of thousands, until utterly spent.
And then Milia — who was, at the time, merely 3rd Rank — drove a blade through that exhausted Transcendent's throat.
After that, the emboldened Wish Order actively tore across the continent.
...In hindsight, that was why Adam and Chloe weren't captured so easily. From the Empire's perspective — the only nation still functioning — the cult that had killed their 8th Rank was the far more urgent threat.
'She's someone I have to kill, no matter what.'
We did eventually kill Milia and stop the Wish Order, but questions still linger.
How did the Order transform lower-class believers — people drawn in by nothing more than "wishes" — into frenzied suicide troops?
How did they feed hundreds of thousands, millions, when food shortages were wracking the continent from all the concurrent disasters?
And above all: how did a mere 3rd Rank mage like Milia perfectly command millions of followers?
Not one of those questions was ever answered. By the time I finally cut Milia's head off with the Dark Sword, she'd done nothing but laugh like a madwoman.
Not that it matters now.
'I only found out she'd attended the academy much later.'
Because right here, right now, I'm already watching Milia. The reason I've kept her alive so far is twofold: the situation needs to be handled quietly before it escalates, and something about Milia's behavior seems... off.
If Milia has changed, I need to know why. Ever since the summoning ritual incident, Rus had been moving with a bit more caution.
So.
"F-Finance Director! Please, mercy! I beg you, forgiveness!"
"Could you — first, please let go. I'm the one begging here, truly."
"Finance Director!"
"Haah..."
"............."
Hidden in the darkness, I clutched the Dark Sword so hard the grip nearly splintered. Right behind Adam and that damned fanatic bitch — I had to fight the urge to aim for the neck of the ridiculous woman clinging to him.
It was fine. I could endure this.
Really.
I felt absolutely nothing.
*
I somehow peeled her off.
And somehow managed to explain.
"So... you're saying Milia suddenly grabbed your trousers, sobbing and pleading."
"That's correct. I was genuinely flustered myself."
Honestly, given how it must have looked, it wasn't unreasonable for people to be skeptical.
But the professors who'd been eyeing me with contempt unexpectedly accepted the explanation pretty fast.
"Well, if he were really doing that sort of thing, he certainly wouldn't do it here."
"Besides, the Finance Director was — well, he was famous even as a student, wasn't he?"
"The story about him studying in the library during the festival is practically legend. We all used to say, 'Study like that upperclassman.'"
"And look at those dark circles. Forget lust — the man looks like he needs to crawl straight into bed right now."
I can hear you, you old bastards.
Half of them taught me back in my academy days, so I couldn't exactly snap back at them.
With the misunderstanding more or less cleared up, I turned toward Milia, who was still sniffling but gradually calming down.
"Well then, Miss Milia?"
"Yes..."
"Shall we continue where we left off? Professors, you can return to your duties."
"Best of luck, Finance Director."
"Hang in there."
A faint trace of suspicion lingered in a few gazes, but the professors all departed for their own offices. The meeting and shared paperwork were done; everyone needed to get back to their personal research labs.
More importantly, the topic at hand with Milia wasn't something I could have anyone else around for.
I got the now-barely-composed Milia back into her seat, closed the door, and — remembering this time — activated the room's consecrated soundproofing ward.
I straightened my trousers and faced Milia again.
"We had a slight interruption, but I think we can talk properly now."
"............."
"The Wish Order — what exactly did you mean by that?"
Things had gotten seriously tangled, but in the end, it wasn't a bad outcome.
The plans I'd originally laid had all been centered on getting Milia to bring up the Order first. The method was quite a bit more chaotic than intended, but she'd spilled it all the same.
That didn't mean I could just nod and move on, of course.
"You're well aware of the relationship between the Wish Order and this academy."
"...Yes."
"And despite that, you're telling me you yourself are the Wish Order?"
The Chairwoman might dismiss them as small fry, but the Wish Order was the group that assaulted the academy in its earliest days. Even now, years later, there was no way the relationship could be anything but hostile.
If the Order was still infiltrating agents into the academy to recover their relic, common sense said they'd send someone properly trained.
So what sense did it make that she'd just blurt it out while we were talking about living-expense scholarships? No pressure, no threats — she just let it slip?
If I hadn't already known through Dark Kingdom that Milia was connected to the Wish Order, the rational assumption would've been that this was disinformation or some kind of feint.
To my perfectly reasonable challenge, Milia answered:
"As I said earlier... the Order has no future."
"I don't claim to know everything, but my understanding is that the Wish Order has continued to persist in its own unique fashion, even after being branded heretical."
The Wish Order had existed even when the Holy Kingdom was the continent's hegemon — before the Empire rose — back when the Holy Kingdom was still a dominant power rather than the battered, Mountain-King-battered shell it was now.
Meaning they'd survived being declared heretics by the continent's preeminent religious state. Naturally, that was thanks to the Order's signature "wishes."
The Wish Order's doctrine is simple.
'Believe, and offer, and your wish will be granted. Whatever it may be.'
Hard to call it a real religion — it was textbook cult logic. What set the Wish Order apart was that they actually delivered.
Because those bastards have...
'The Dark Sword.'
To be honest, this was information I wasn't supposed to know. In the three-part indie game Dark Kingdom, the Wish Order and Dark Sword backstory barely surface in Part 1's academy segment.
And I hadn't exactly been the type to read story lore with deep attention; it was a few lines of throwaway lore, so I never would've remembered.
I only knew thanks to an accidental spoiler.
'Checking the strategy community was the mistake.'
The game was so punishingly hard that I'd wandered into the strategy forums, and there I accidentally scrolled past a guide on how to obtain the ultra-endgame-tier Dark Sword.
That's how I learned Milia was part of the Wish Order, and that the Dark Sword was in the Order's possession.
At the time, I'd just sighed at the spoiler, figuring I'd have learned it naturally in Part 2 or 3 anyway.
"The Wish Order supposedly grants its believers' wishes. An organization that survived the Holy Kingdom's persecution — and you're telling me it has no future?"
"............."
What, did the Dark Sword just disappear or something? Because that's not possible.
The Dark Sword, like the Holy Kingdom's relic, exists on a conceptual plane — it can't simply be destroyed or erased.
Someone could steal it and run, sure, but the Dark Sword should be safe and sound in your Order's headquarters, shouldn't it?
"If you really are from the Wish Order, answer this as well. Why are you so fixated on the living-expense scholarship? An infiltrator sent by the Order should be receiving ample operational funding, given how wealthy the Order is—"
"...It's not."
"Excuse me?"
"It's not wealthy! They said they used to have money, ages ago! I was completely tricked!"
What the hell.
Why is she suddenly exploding again?
For a split second, when Milia shouted, I thought the shadow of the chair behind her flinched. I'm so sleep-deprived I'm seeing things, apparently.
Milia, meanwhile, had bolted to her feet as if some dam had burst, voice rising to a yell.
"They said once I infiltrated the academy, I'd get plenty of operational funding! All they give me is barely enough for food! How am I supposed to conduct any kind of operations on this?! And they still demand regular reports! Paper and pens cost money, you know!"
"Miss Milia—"
"On top of crumbling finances, they put what was left into some mine investment, and even that failed! What is wrong with these people?!"
"...A mine?"
"So I applied for the living-expense scholarship, and even that turns out like this! Why do I have such terrible lu— gah?!"
"Student—!"
Thud.
Milia, who'd shot up from her chair, tripped over something and fell. In a spot where there was absolutely nothing — just a patch of empty shadow. She toppled backward as if something had been there.
Milia herself seemed completely caught off guard, leaving only a baffled gasp as she went down.
I lunged forward to catch her hand—
*
—What are you looking at with those eyes? How dare you look down on the Pope of this continent with such filthy contempt.
In an instant.
A voice. The scene warps.
My head.
My head throbs like it's about to split open.
—You fucking bitch. I should've killed you ages ago.
"Such ugly words. Any last things you want to say?"
—Why? You wanted me dead that badly, and now you're feeling pity? Offering me last words?
"I'm curious what a woman like you would spout right before she dies."
Ssssssssh—
Rain falls. My senses are a scattered mess. I couldn't grasp where I was standing, what this cold sensation was, what was happening to me.
And yet I could see it clearly.
In the middle of crumbling ruins, beyond countless corpses — a woman, collapsed in a pool of her own blood.
And standing before her, a white-haired woman.
...It was strange.
The bloodied woman looked like Milia. But not the Milia of now. Her face was older, more mature — as if she'd lived several more years.
Why?
—Last words? Oh, I've got some. Ptoo. You bitch.
"That it?"
—Think again.
The rain wouldn't stop. From the dark sky, it poured, washing away blood and brain matter alike.
In the rain, only one figure stood: a white-haired woman holding a black sword that radiated an oppressive, almost ominous presence.
The way she looked reminded me of someone.
Was that just my imagination?
—To think... that a mere 6th Rank nobody was the one who stole the Dark Sword. Truly pathetic.
"Technically speaking, you people also got robbed by a 1st Rank."
—What?
"Nothing you need to know. Nothing I feel like sharing with a woman who's about to die."
Rainwater drips from the tip of the raised blade. The rough-hewn sword, dyed black from edge to hilt — it exudes a malice so dense it's palpable even at a glance.
In that place where blood and rain had mingled.
—Last words. Yeah, I do have some last words.
"I don't think there's any need to hear more."
—You rotten bitch! You'll die in a ditch! You'll rot your whole life away! Your future's going to be as black as those dead-fish eyes of yours! Everything you try to hold onto will vanish, and everything you want will burn!
The blood-drenched woman — she looked like Milia, but she wasn't the present Milia —
in her extravagantly ornate ceremonial robes and gold ornaments, all of it soaked crimson with her own blood,
half-mad with hatred, laughing as if her mind had shattered, screamed.
—I'll curse you for eternity! Drop dead! Die!! Rus Spero!!!
Shk.
The head that seemed poised to spew curses forever flew off with one simple, clean stroke.
To the very end, its eyes had been fixed on the dead-eyed woman who never once changed expression.
The blood clinging to the black sword was instantly washed away by the rain.
Standing over Milia's now-corpse, the white-haired woman spoke.
"Regrettable as it is, I can't afford to die yet."
"Before I do,"
"...there's someone I have to stop. Even if it means killing them first."
*
——————————.
And then.
My vision snapped back to normal.
"...Huh?"
When I came to, my hand was gripping Milia's.
Right. I'd lunged and caught her before she hit the ground. That's what I'd done. I was sure of it.
I'd frozen in that pose for just a moment without realizing, but I pulled Milia up and guided her back into the chair.
...More to the point, what had I just seen?
'I definitely saw something.'
I'd felt this sensation before.
But the previous time, I couldn't remember anything afterward.
This time, a few fragments remained.
'Rain, ruins, corpses, blood... and.'
A black sword.
The Dark Sword.
'Why that?'
Someone had been holding the Dark Sword. A woman, I think — that's all I could recall. There had been a conversation, but what was said?
I strained to retrieve the memory, but it had already scattered long ago. If anything, it was more puzzling why faint scraps had lingered this time.
And Milia, who'd been staring blankly the same as I had—
"...Ah."
"Miss Milia?"
"Ahh..."
She let out a sigh — deep, dense, almost sticky —
and then spoke.
"I'll do it."
"...What?"
"I'll do it! Please, let me carry out the terror attack!"
As if everything she'd just shown me had been an illusion, she started talking like the "original" Milia again.
Was it just my imagination, or did that shift seem unnervingly like a well-rehearsed act?
And — terror attack? I hadn't brought that up. I hadn't said a single word about it.
"A terror attack? What are you—"
"We can discuss the details later!"
"Miss Milia!"
Still wearing that smile, Milia swept out of the room before I could stop her.
And I, left behind so abruptly—
'What just...?'
I couldn't make sense of any of this. Milia's sudden shift in demeanor, the inexplicable vision I'd just witnessed — all of it.
Why did it feel like...
Like the shadows in the room had flickered?
Restless.
And bewildering.