The Seven Deadly Sins (2)
By the time they arrived at Delin's Lake, riding at Leffen's side, it was all already over.
"Ah, Luid."
Amelia hoisted Pedro up with a single hand, as easily as lifting a dead root.
Pedro's body hung limp.
"You caught him already?"
"He was already half-dead when I got here. Looks like your magic came in handy, Luid."
One of Amelia's divine authorities, Wide-Area Sword Aura, was the most powerful technique she could wield. But as its name suggested, it was a skill meant for many opponents at once, and somewhat weak against a single target.
However, Luid had scraped together every wisp of that scattered sword aura and concentrated it into a single point — and the destructive power that resulted was beyond imagination.
The proof of it lay in the deep crater now carved into Delin's Lake.
"...Truly remarkable. So this is the Windsor blade I've heard so much about."
"And thank you as well, Professor, for bringing my little brother here safely. Um — you can put him down now."
Luid hopped down from Leffen's arms. Instead of landing, he simply flopped over where he stood.
"...Luid?"
"Sleepy."
"Well, you did move around more than usual today, I'll give you that. Still, it's worrying."
Amelia dumped Pedro onto the ground with all the ceremony of taking out the trash, then crouched down in front of Luid.
"Your stamina really is terrible."
"That's because you're an idiot, Noona."
Amelia gave his hair a single stroke, then rose to her feet. Gazing down at the unconscious Pedro, she murmured,
"If I hadn't gone all-out from the very start, he would have been a real handful. That black mage was trying to escape. Without Luid's barrier, he'd have managed it. I have no way of countering a black mage's mist transformation, you see. You saved us, Luid."
Amelia looked up at the sky. A translucent membrane enclosed the entire space — one of the many contingencies Luid had arranged in advance.
My little brother really is brilliant.
Affection poured from Amelia's eyes. How on earth had Windsor produced a child this adorable and this clever? She was so proud to call him her little brother.
Luid said, puffing himself up,
"I told you, didn't I? We had to lure him out."
"Mm. If it weren't for you, things would've gone badly. You earned your keep."
Amelia smiled brightly — then glanced back down at Pedro, and asked, curious,
"But how did you know he'd show up in Delin's Forest?"
"Because it was a pincer maneuver."
This episode wasn't over yet. In truth, Pedro's capture hadn't been part of the original story at all.
As the powerful so often do, Pedro was the sort who enjoyed orchestrating incidents and then watching them unfold. Black mages came in many varieties, and Pedro was a necromancer.
In other words, he was originally meant to be an extremely troublesome opponent. Far from contributing to Justin's growth, he would only have been an obstacle — so Luid had deliberately written him out of the script a little early.
"When you're stealing something, causing a diversion is the classic play. Delin's Forest is the best possible place to draw attention."
"Hmmm. Is that so."
It seemed a bit too complicated for Amelia.
Luid held his arms out toward her. Amelia had a separate role to play.
"I'm sleepy. Carry me."
"Yes, of course."
Amelia scooped Luid up effortlessly and cradled him against her chest. Luid wrapped his arms around her neck and slowly closed his eyes.
And then he murmured to himself,
Justin, it's your turn now. It's going to be hell — but fighting.
His part in all this was over.
What remained was the protagonist's role.
Kyaaaam. Miho yawned wide.
"What do you suppose Master Luid is plotting?"
Hershey and Damon. And Irina. The three of them were walking steadily along the second floor of the main building.
"Hmm. No idea. But it sounds like it'll be fun."
Irina's eyes curved into a pretty crescent. She looped her arm through Hershey's and spoke in a friendly tone.
"Hey, by the way — Lady Hershey, do you like Luid?"
Whoosh. At Irina's out-of-nowhere remark, Hershey's face flared scarlet.
"Wh-what are you saying, Lady Irina?"
"That's a yes, isn't it? My adorable junior — so cold and distant that people nicknamed her 'Hershey of the Wind' — following Luid around like a lost puppy..."
"That nickname is... it's because I'm a Minerva..."
"Nope, don't think so. I heard it from someone. Whenever anyone tries to strike up a conversation with you, you just vanish into thin air. That's why they call you Hershey of the Wind."
"......"
Hershey, red as a ripened tomato, kept her eyes glued to the floor as she walked.
"...Is it that obvious?"
"Oh my, oh my."
Irina covered her mouth and narrowed her eyes slyly. It was a habitual gesture whenever she stumbled upon something interesting.
"Honestly... maybe a little?"
Hershey felt as though every hair on her body were standing on end.
She asked with confused eyes,
"D-do you think Luid has noticed?"
Irina thought about Luid for a brief moment, then shook her head at once.
"That boy wouldn't notice if a war broke out right beside him."
"Right...?"
Hershey couldn't decide whether she should be relieved or disappointed.
"What meaningless drivel."
Damon clicked his tongue and folded his arms.
"My, what a rude little brother I have."
"If you insist on the title of Princess, at least observe proper decorum, woman."
Irina flashed Damon a winning smile.
"I set down the title of Princess more than ten years ago. You're in no position to talk either, Your Disgraced Highness."
"Hmph. I have never once clung to so pitiful a title."
When Lucius — originally the Crown Prince — ascended the throne, Irina and Damon had each relinquished their titles of Princess and Prince, and been granted the surname Kairos in their place.
That had been over ten years ago now.
...They're nothing at all like House Windsor.
Damon and Irina looked to be on terribly bad terms. Bad terms aside, they didn't even look close.
So Windsor really was the strange one.
Just look at Amelia — she doted on Luid to the point of distraction. Siblings from noble houses actually being close like this. It was a genuinely rare thing.
"Where in the world has that plebeian slunk off to? This great self deigned to grace him with a personal visit, and not so much as a glimpse of his face. Utterly insolent."
Damon shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes glinting with displeasure.
"He's probably in Room 9."
"Hoh. And how would you know that, wench?"
"...Wench? That's rather harsh."
"Pay no mind to trifles, Hershey."
And yet even as he said it, Damon slyly changed her honorific to something more respectful — an unexpectedly sweet gesture.
"Room 9 sits right beside the Chancellor's office. From what I've heard, he lives there and receives private instruction from the Chancellor himself."
"Private instruction? Is that slacker worth so much?"
"Well... they say he possesses a rare attribute, or something of the sort. In any case, he's apparently such an exceptional case that the Chancellor personally oversees his training. Though since the Chancellor isn't exactly a kind man, it sounds like he's suffering quite a bit for it."
"Hah. So the old man was that bored, was he? Retire from the chancellorship and lose what wits he had left, has he?"
Soon, Room 9 came into view.
"Out of the way."
Damon flung open the door to Room 9. Inside, sure enough, was Justin — along with four or five commoners, and Catherine as well.
Damon strode forward without a word. Behind him, Hershey and Irina watched his retreating back.
"...Why on earth did Luid give orders like this? Does he dislike him or something?"
"I couldn't say, but I'm thrilled. The role of the mysterious narrowed-eyed observer who appears just as the conflict reaches its peak — I will see this role through to its end, no matter what."
Irina clenched her fist and covered her mouth. Her eyes were half-lidded, a faint flush rising in her cheeks. She was anticipating what was to come.
Justin was deep in conversation in Room 9.
"Do you even understand what you've been given? Private tutoring from the Chancellor of the Academy himself!"
Catherine pressed him fiercely. Justin scratched his head.
"I dunno... it's just exhausting, honestly."
"Ugh, so frustrating. Frustrating! Why would the Chancellor even bother with someone who can't recognize an opportunity like this...!"
These days, Justin had been receiving private lessons from Clifford.
Whenever regular classes ended, he was summoned to the Chancellor's office for one training regimen or another.
Of course, Justin knew perfectly well what an incredible opportunity this was.
He knew — and yet...
"I spend half of every day just running. He hasn't taught me a single speck of actual magic."
"...?"
All Clifford ever did was drag him out to the training grounds and make him run laps.
"'A mage's stamina is essential,' he says. I keep at it because he orders me to, but honestly... I want to quit. I have to succeed."
Justin had two goals in life. One of them was to succeed, and then return home and give back to the people of his village.
For that, he absolutely needed magical achievement. But having his time constantly eaten up by pointless busywork was more than he could bear.
"Th-that does seem strange. They said he was a fitness nut — guess it was true."
"More importantly, Justin."
Just then, Jose, a commoner who had been listening quietly all this while, spoke up with a serious expression.
"Did you bring it up with the Chancellor? The big contradiction in the merit-demerit point system."
Justin nodded.
"Of course — but he didn't seem all that interested."
"Damn it. So the Chancellor's on the nobles' side after all."
Among the commoners, a heated argument had been making the rounds lately: that the Reward and Penalty Point System was rigged wholesale in favor of the nobility.
Merit points were supposedly awarded on merit, and demerits for misconduct — but when you ranked the students by points, the top of the board was nothing but nobles.
Nobles generally had stronger magic on average, and having been raised on etiquette, they hardly ever broke the rules in the first place.
"We need to unite. This garbage of a system is an evil practice that has to be abolished."
"Oh — um, what's an 'evil practice'?"
Hans, the chubby son of a Kerven merchant, marveled from the side.
"...Still, resorting to violent methods isn't right."
"Not right, my ass! It's the only weapon we have against the nobles. If we don't do even that, who's going to pay any attention to the discrimination we suffer?"
"Why would anyone tilt their ear? Ears don't even tilt."
"You'll just become the same as those few rotten nobles."
"Anyway, listen up. So here's what happened this time—"
...The commoners' conversations were always scattered chaos like this. At times, Justin found it suffocating.
And then—
"Hey, look over there."
Damon was walking toward them.
What business could he possibly have in Room 9?
But there was no way that degenerate Damon would ever approach commoners with good intentions. Justin raised his guard.
"...Damon Kairos."
Damon stared him dead in the eye from up close.
Then, without a word, he raised a finger and twirled it in a circle.
"Huh?"
"Turn around, plebeian. There is something you must do."
Justin blinked.
He had no idea what was going on, but he did as he was told. It wasn't a difficult request.
But then—
THWACK!
Damon kicked Justin square in the backside!
"Kgh!"
Caught completely off guard, Justin pitched forward and crashed to the floor.
Catherine stormed over, seething.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
"Consider it an honor to House Kairos."
"......"
Damon's sheer shamelessness left Catherine speechless.
Justin scrambled to his feet, more bewildered than angry.
"Wh-why would you do something like that all of a sudden?"
"Because I felt like it."
Justin quickly recovered his composure.
"That's not right—"
"Now, now—"
Irina swept in, clapping softly, her face glowing with satisfaction.
"Why are you two fighting?"
Damon scowled.
"...It isn't your turn yet."
"...It isn't? Oops, sorry. Sh-shall we start over?"
"No, carry on. You're already here."
...What is going on?
Justin couldn't make sense of the situation.
Whether he understood it or not, the scene rolled onward.
Irina put on a grave expression and raised her index finger.
"I don't know what this is about, but fighting is bad~"
"......"
"Oh no! A fight, at the Academy... Aaahh, this is a disaster. I should have written some lines!"
Irina grabbed at her hair, then ducked behind Hershey.
Hershey sighed.
"You were trying too hard, Lady Irina."
"Y-you think? Will Luid be disappointed? I have a feeling he's watching from somewhere..."
"Excuse me."
Catherine's brow was knotted deep with fury.
"Could someone please explain to me what exactly is going on here?"
Damon had suddenly kicked Justin in the rear. And then Irina had appeared out of nowhere, trying to break up a fight — with gestures and dialogue that couldn't have looked more awkward to anyone watching.
A fight that hadn't even started yet!
Just how little do they think of us?
Catherine was livid. These oblivious commoners might not realize it, but in the world of the nobility, this was an unmistakable declaration of insult.
"Kicking the backside of a man who was just standing there minding his own business—"
Catherine, drawing herself up to demand answers, was forced to stop mid-sentence.
"What do I do next...? Hershey, could you take over for me?"
"...I was only instructed to take a walk."
"What a model student. You answer straight out of the textbook."
"W-would a girl like that be boring?"
Screeee—
A shrill ringing filled Catherine's ears, like a kettle about to boil over.
And then, finally — the lid blew off.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!!"
That was the moment.
Crash!
Magic lightbulbs began shattering one by one.
Crack—
The instant a hairline fracture split across the window—
Click.
Pitch-black darkness swallowed everything, deep enough that a hand before one's face could not be seen.
"I-I didn't do anything."
Catherine waved her hands frantically. She couldn't see a thing in the dark — but somehow, she had the distinct feeling that everyone was staring straight at her.