The Occupation of Every Library (3)
The library descended into chaos in an instant.
“Wh-what is this?”
“You crazy bastards!”
“Eek! It's filthy!”
Isabella, the student librarian, shot up from her seat.
“What do you all think you're doing?!”
The commoners who had poured into the library rose as one, thrusting their wands toward the ceiling and chanting their slogan.
“Commoners have the right to use the library too!”
“It's unjust that only nobles get to use it!”
“Surrender, and no blood will be shed!”
“...Blood? Hans, look at you using fancy words. Impressive!”
“Hehe, thanks.”
Justin shouted, “We won't stop anyone who wants to leave! If you don't want to get hurt, go home! Please.”
The library guardians were already moving among the students, ushering them to safety. A few nobles grumbled about not wanting the hassle and left. The commoners didn't stop anyone from going.
Every Expert Class student was a force to be reckoned with. But the ones leaving were nobles from other classes anyway.
“Good. Don't interfere.”
“I've been meaning to put you commoners in your place for a while now. This works out nicely.”
Most of the Expert Class stayed behind to face the commoners. But closing time was approaching, and only two or three remained inside.
Isabella marched forward, glaring daggers. “If you'd wanted a Magic Duel, we would have accepted it any time. How typically cowardly of you commoners, to come swarming right at closing time.”
When a lower-ranked class felt wronged by a higher-ranked one, it could formally declare a Magic Duel. Within a designated zone, both sides were then free to fight with whatever magic they could muster, and the generous time frame meant the outcome reflected pure, unadulterated skill—no luck involved. The losing side was bound to grant whatever the victor demanded. Which meant the commoners swarming the library had an obvious plan: they couldn't win head-on, so they'd resorted to trickery.
“Hah, and who in their right mind would follow rules made by nobles?”
“You're the cowards, you noble pigs! You chased us out with nonsense about 'etiquette' and 'decorum'!”
“Yeah!”
Isabella was so incredulous she raised her voice. “Snotting up the books, stealing things, causing nothing but trouble—and you ask what for? We gave you more than enough chances!”
“Isabella. Judging the whole by a part is never wise.”
Justin spoke with perfect confidence, his eyes brimming with righteousness. “We have no intention of hurting anyone. Please. Just hear us out.”
“Hear them out!”
“Hear us out!”
“...And which part of this looks like people coming to have a conversation? You're dirtying the carpet—out of the library, now!”
Isabella stomped her foot. A wall of earth surged up from the floor, threatening to shove the commoners back out.
“Dispel.”
At that moment, Catherine swept her wand through the air, and the wall vanished without a trace. Confusion flooded Isabella's eyes.
Catherine crossed her arms and twisted her face into a scowl. “We protested for a whole week, and it was you who refused to listen to a single word of it.”
“Lady Catherine...! You're a noble yourself—you must see the commoners' savagery for what it is!”
“Ha. Sure, commoners can be a little rude—that's because we never got taught etiquette. If you'd had a little patience, we'd have learned it on our own. You couldn't even wait that long?”
“It's not about waiting! The problem is you don't fix it even when someone tells you to!”
Clutching the back of her neck, Isabella jabbed a finger at the commoners' boots. “Look at the mud on the carpet right now! We asked you, over and over, to wipe your boots before coming into the library, and even this very moment you can't be bothered!”
Dozens of commoners flinched.
But they quickly thrust their hands out and shouted back.
“Who wipes their boots on the way to a fight?!”
“My grandma always said brushing the dirt off your boots drives the luck right out of them! Take it up with her if you've got a problem!”
“Stop the oppression of commoners—!”
As the murmuring protest swelled, Isabella's face flushed redder and redder.
A hand came to rest on her shoulder. It was Gabriel, one of the library guardians. “You're just stressing yourself out. Let's push them out.”
Five Expert Class students, guardians included, held their ground.
Isabella laid a hand on the holster at her hip and addressed the crowd. “So what exactly do you think you'll accomplish by gang-ing up? You're still just a ragtag mob.”
The immense mana of the Expert Class students washed through the library like a rising tide.
“Khehehe.”
A sinister yet adorable giggle rang out, and every head turned toward it for a moment.
Nia Lion came skipping over, her violet eyes gleaming.
“Nia! Glad you could make it!”
Nia was arguably Isabella's best friend, and she possessed tremendous mana, easily ranking among the strongest in the class.
Isabella's lips curled into a wide grin. All that remained now was to teach those insolent commoners a lesson they'd never forget.
Except.
Nia's footsteps carried her straight toward the commoners.
She looked up at Isabella, crossed her arms, and declared with tremendous bravado, “Nia's on the commoners' side!”
“?”
Isabella's brow furrowed in bewilderment.
Nia drew her wand and shouted, “Because it sounds like fun!”
That idiot!
Isabella grasped the situation in a heartbeat. The little mischief-maker's curiosity had struck again.
“This is no time for games, Nia! This is serious!”
“Nia is very serious. Hehe.”
Nia traced a circle in the empty air with her wand. Isabella immediately fell back and summoned a wall of stone.
With a resounding crash, the wall shattered. A giant made of water stood in its place.
Nia's specialty—summoning.
“Nia!”
Isabella's voice cracked like a whip. Nia only raised her hand skyward with the laugh of a villainess. “Subdue them all!”
“Ugh, what a massive pain. You and I are settling this in class.”
The Expert Class students raised their wands in unison, each manifesting their own magic.
Nia was strong, certainly—but not overwhelmingly so.
No way could she hold off six opponents of roughly her own caliber. Not alone.
“Dispel! Dispel! Dispel!”
Catherine barked the incantation three times in rapid succession, forcibly unraveling their spells. “You could have just told us we smelled instead of dropping hints. ...So I've been washing every single day for nothing.”
“I can't take it anymore. Why should I have to tiptoe around your sensibilities to attend this Academy?”
And that wasn't all. The 'Expert Class commoners' who'd been lying in wait inside revealed themselves as well. They'd simply been biding their time for the right moment.
Suddenly, the advantage had flipped to the commoners. Bewilderment washed over the Expert Class students.
“Justin! We'll hold them here—go up and secure the upper floor! There's probably nothing much up there anyway!”
“Got it.”
At Catherine's shout, Justin and thirty other commoners sprang into motion.
“Like hell we'll just let you through!”
Isabella tried to tear open a pit in the floor, but an incoming spell forced her to abort.
She bit her lip.
If this kept up, the commoners really might take the library from them.
Justin ran at the head of the pack. Spells flew at him from every direction, but he didn't slow down. The only way to end this commotion quickly, he reasoned, was to achieve their objective as fast as possible.
He was about to bound up the staircase—
—when he saw that someone was already sitting at the top of the stairs.
A girl, a fox cradled in her arms, sighing deeply as she looked down at him.
“...Hershey.”
“Since when did we drop the honorifics, you feather thief?”
“Feather thief?”
The commoners who'd followed him came crowding up the stairs, panting. “Justin...! What kind of mage runs that fast, huh?”
They froze at the sight of Hershey.
But only for a moment. Numbers were numbers—even the top-ranked Hershey couldn't hope to hold back a crowd this size by herself.
Hershey rose and set the fox down on the floor. “Wait in the back for me, okay?” she said in a gentle voice, then drew her wand.
Justin tried to talk. “We're just going to chant our slogan on the rooftop and come back down. Please. Step aside.”
“...?”
Hershey frowned as if studying some strange new species of creature.
Justin pressed on, his voice full of earnest appeal. “I don't want to see you get hurt.”
“Hurt? Me?”
Hershey pointed at herself with a perfectly baffled expression.
Justin's frustration boiled over. “Even for you, taking on this many people alone is just not—”
“Ha...”
Hershey swept her hair back from her face. “I suppose I've been keeping too quiet lately. Commoners who don't even know their place, thinking they can push me around. I really ought to thank Luide for this.”
As mana began to gather around her, Justin spoke in a rush. “I mean it! I don't want to fight you!”
Hershey took her wand in her left hand. As she slowly raised it, the wand began to glow emerald green.
Its shape began to change. In a single breath, it became a bow—as though she were clutching pure light in her hand.
House Minerva's signature secret magic: the Failnaught of the Wind.
“Can't we just talk—?!”
“Shut up.”
Hershey's voice was ice. “If you came here to fight, then raise your wand, peasant.”
“What?”
Hershey drew the bow. An emerald arrow slid into place, smoldering with a faint, hungry glow.
“Pătrunde.”
She spat the runic word and released.
Thwooom!
An arrow of condensed mana, heavy with immense power, tore through the air.
Justin flung himself sideways in a panic—a movement driven by pure instinct.
But the horde of commoners behind him had no chance to dodge. They threw up barriers, and that was all they could do.
KRA-KOOM—!
The moment the arrow struck the barrier, it detonated. The blast shattered that first shield and, refusing to stop there, hammered through barrier after barrier down the line.
“GYAAAH!”
Shrieks split the air.
The explosion collapsed the staircase, kicking up a massive cloud of dust. When it settled, not a single one of them was still standing.
One arrow. That was all it took to subdue them all.
Justin stared at them, his face slack with shock. The commoners Hershey's spell had sent tumbling down through their shattered barriers lay badly injured.
“...Now I finally understand.”
Justin got to his feet, his expression dark. He glared straight at Hershey. “You never intended to talk to us from the very beginning. And to do something this brutal... You're evil.”
“Pătrunde.”
As if he weren't worth a single word of reply, Hershey loosed another arrow.