Proof (4)

"Are you out of your mind?! Do you have any idea what kind of savages the beastfolk are? Huh?!"

"I'm telling you, it actually works. It's not like I'm teaching human sacrifice or something…"

"Silence! Do you have any conception of what you've just done?!"

Professor Simon could do nothing but hop around the room, bellowing accusations at Kallen.

"This isn't a matter for the parents' association — this is something the Church of Aten will storm in over!! As if it weren't headache enough with those fanatics picking fights with us at every turn, you've gone and handed them ammunition on a silver platter…!"

By their very nature, the priests and paladins of the Aten Church harbored a deep distrust of magic users.

Mana, the wellspring of all magic, flowed in from the Illusion Realm — a hellscape beyond human borders — and its very principles were fundamentally no different from those wielded by demons and corrupted beings. Because the church recognized only divinely granted holy power as the sole true miracle, its clergy were forever picking quarrels with the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Magic Tower and the academy whenever the slightest opening appeared.

Introducing beastfolk training methods, in Professor Simon's view, amounted to handing the Church of Aten the perfect pretext to ransack Elysion.

"Unacceptable! Absolutely unacceptable! Even if I have to watch you like a hawk, I will never grant this permission…!"

He was in the middle of holding forth at length when rescue arrived from the unlikeliest of quarters.

"Perhaps we ought to simply wait and see how it goes."

"Professor Ziya? What did you just say?"

The very person who had first caught Kallen in the act of his so-called 'education.' Professor Ziya, who hadn't said a word the entire meeting, set her teacup down with impeccable grace and began, measured and unhurried.

"Even if he has handed them a pretext, Elysion is not an institution that trembles at the whim of some church. Moreover, those people value their own faith above the advancement of humanity itself."

"What? But still…"

"The finest seat of learning on the continent cannot possibly kowtow to the likes of them."

Her decisive words were matched by that characteristically razor-sharp gaze gleaming behind her spectacles.

"Besides, the Swordsmanship Department has been due for change for some time now. Even your predecessor, Professor Tyrell, lamented the limits of the knightly code he himself had built…"

Ziya continued in a voice of surprising force for such a modest appearance.

"As to whether that witless man was truly right — why not simply confirm it through his results? Elysion has a professor evaluation system, after all. And besides…"

She cast a sidelong glance at Kallen and delicately drew her fine brows together.

"Right or wrong, doing something is clearly better than doing nothing."

Then, in a voice thick with undisguised distaste, she added:

"Honestly, when the professor Talisa personally brought in spends his days guzzling booze and napping through his own lectures…"

"Pff…"

"Pfft—"

It was a rare sight indeed — Professor Ziya, who never once lost her composure, openly mocking someone to their face. Several of the professors, Wendell among them, burst into poorly stifled laughter.

Kallen, who hadn't the faintest idea what he'd done to deserve it, could only scowl darkly.

"N-now, everyone, just a moment…"

Just as Professor Simon was attempting to wrest back control of a conversation that had somehow veered completely off course, the bell rang, and the professors rose from their seats as if they'd been waiting for exactly that.

"I have a class next, so I'll be going."

"Ah, me as well…!"

"I suppose we should follow Professor Ziya's advice for now…"

"It's not often Professor Kallen shows such enthusiasm, after all…"

Their parting pleasantries were, by and large, empty ones — none of them seemed eager to get tangled in a troublesome situation. It wasn't their problem anyway, and with Professor Ziya conveniently taking point, it was a fine opportunity to slip away.

Before long, the office was empty of everyone but the two of them, leaving behind nothing but a hollow stillness.

Professor Simon, who had been stammering in place the whole time, finally whirled on Kallen with a glare and spat out:

"You! I'll be watching you from here on! I will not tolerate any further nonsense, do you hear me!!"

With heavy, thudding footsteps, even Professor Simon vanished out the door.

Through it all, Ziya remained absorbed in savoring her tea. Only after draining the last sip did she set her cup down and speak, her voice dripping with icy contempt.

"Don't get the wrong idea."

"Huh?"

Kallen stared at her, face twisting in bewilderment. Ziya shot back a look of undisguised revulsion, as though she were watching some loathsome insect.

"I'm saying I did not take your side. I was merely concerned about a stain on the reputations of Elysion and Lady Talisa."

"What are you suddenly—"

"I have no idea how you bewitched Talisa, but it won't work on me."

Ignoring even his reply, she pressed on, her words closing in on him like a tightening noose.

"Build foundations? Real combat experience? Don't make me laugh. Does being a professor look like a game to you? If a few rabbit beasts are all it takes, then what in the world does Elysion even exist for?"

"No, really, I—"

"I feel sorry for the students who'll suffer at the hands of a fraud like you."

Clicking her tongue, she headed for the door — then paused, just briefly.

"Consider this a warning. If even a shred of shame remains in you, resign and walk away on your own. But if you insist on continuing this pitiful charade of playing professor with no concept of your place…"

Without so much as a backward glance at Kallen, she murmured in a voice saturated with contempt:

"Then you will truly, thoroughly regret it."

Having delivered her chilling ultimatum, Ziya left the office without listening to a word he had to say. Left alone, Kallen could only stand there, eyes wide in dumbfounded silence.

Before long, he slumped back into his chair and shook his head.

"It's not like I can just leave because I want to…"

A wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, he muttered quietly:

"Sheesh… being a professor really isn't easy either…"

"Ngh… no… hah?!"

Garnet's eyes flew open as she thrashed in a cold sweat.

"Haah… haah…"

Gasping for breath, she bolted upright and instinctively scanned her surroundings.

"A… hospital room…? Huh…?"

Only then did she realize where she was, and she murmured the words under her breath. Her mind was fogged over like misted glass, hopelessly blurry. For a moment, Garnet couldn't even fathom why she was lying here at all.

"Why am I… hng?!"

She was just furrowing her brow, sinking into her own thoughts, when—

"It hurts… why does my stomach… huh?"

A dull, throbbing pain surfaced without warning, and Garnet's lovely face crumpled on its own. Then, as she quietly lifted her shirt, shock flooded her expression.

"What… is this…"

Her lower belly, always flawlessly smooth and unblemished, was now a mess of mottled blue-black bruises. The firm, porcelain-white skin she had once quietly prided herself on showed no trace of itself anymore.

"Huh…?"

Next came the aching throb running from her wrists to her ankles, and Garnet let out a dazed groan as the sensation registered. It was more than enough pain to dredge up her hazy memories.

"Hyah…"

The moment everything came flooding back, Garnet instinctively curled in on herself.

"Haah, haah… hng…!"

In an instant she had wound herself up like a caterpillar, clutching her head, breath coming in ragged heaves. Her eyes trembled violently, as if an earthquake were rippling through them. The carefree, slightly exasperating idler she normally was had vanished without a trace.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠man preserved in her returning memories was nothing short of a merciless predator. Garnet, who had strutted into the duel brimming with confidence, had been nothing but a plaything — callously, one-sidedly ravaged the moment the man showed his true colors.

"Ah… ugh…"

Hot tears trickled down along Garnet's trembling eyes. Every time the flashbacks replayed — bones cracking, flesh tearing — her whole body flinched of its own accord. It took a long while before the agonizing, wretched recollections finally subsided to something barely bearable.

Head buried between her knees, eyes hollow and empty, Garnet murmured in desolation:

"…Pathetic."

It had started as a duel born of her sheer inability to watch Kallen play the fool with nary a shred of a professor's self-awareness. But now, the relationship between the two of them had been dramatically inverted. Unlike herself, with her bottomless incompetence laid bare, Kallen had at least proven that his skill was the real thing.

One fact, however, was undeniable: Garnet had been humiliatingly defeated by the very man she had held in contempt all this time.

"I just need to train…"

Letting out an exhausted sigh, Garnet hauled herself up and shuffled unsteadily toward the door. The nurse keeping watch over the ward jumped at the sight, hurried over, and tried to stop her.

"Oh, Miss Potts, you mustn't get up yet. You need more rest—"

"…I'm fine."

Brushing past the protesting nurse, Garnet trudged out of the ward. Without resting, she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠headed straight for Elysion's private training hall. She didn't know how long she'd been laid up, but she had already wasted far too much time.

Garnet was forcing herself to ignore both the stabbing ache in her belly and the throbbing across her whole body as she opened her personal equipment locker—

Crash!

"…"

Water dripped down from her thoroughly soaked hair, drop by drop. Garnet stared into the locker with blank, uncomprehending eyes.

Over the torn books and the ink bottles spilled in a chaotic mess, crude red letters had been scrawled everywhere, branded like marks of shame:

Hanging from the creaking locker door, alongside a magical trap, swung an empty water bottle. Judging by the stench radiating off her, it must have held rotten water.

It was the same juvenile harassment that had followed her since the entrance exams. Garnet was just managing to keep her expression composed as she reached with trembling hands to tidy up the locker—

"Huh…? No, no…!"

Her eyes wavered helplessly at the sight of her two-handed longsword lying snapped in two. Her sword — it had shattered right along with her in that duel. Only now remembering this, Garnet let her head droop low.

"Ah… I saved up my living expenses just to buy that…"

Weapons and supplies for training were, by principle, purchased at one's own expense. Of course, if circumstances were dire, she could ask Elysion for assistance — but somehow she couldn't bring herself to. Doing so would mean truly, undeniably admitting that she had hit rock bottom.

"Haah…"

At last, she let out a heavy sigh and turned wearily away.

"I should wash up first…"

Fresh from the bath, Garnet stared blankly at her own reflection in the mirror. Her platinum hair, faintly damp at the ends and curling ever so slightly, was a work of art in its own right.

It was the pride and symbol of the Potts family, handed down through generations — yet now it felt like nothing more than a mark of disgrace.

Her hand drifted to the locket at her throat. She flipped it open and gazed at it for a long moment. Within was a small portrait of a family: a gallant knight painted alongside two beautiful women.

"How could she be so lovely! These old eyes of mine say our Garnet is prettier than even the imperial princess!"

"I do worry, darling. What kind of wolf of a man will come to steal our Garnet away…!"

"Even the finest knight on the continent couldn't have her! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Not while there's breath in my body, never—"

"Darling! How many times must I tell you to stop being ridiculous!"

Faded, worn voices seemed to drift from somewhere far away. It was a happiness Garnet had lost forever.

All she could do was clench her teeth and whisper:

"Father… why did you make that choice…"

The wave of resentment and bitterness surged up so fast she couldn't even finish the sentence. Trembling as she gripped the locket, she suddenly ripped it roughly from her neck — with such ferocity she seemed ready to hurl it straight into the trash. Yet in the end, all she did was let her arm fall limply to her side.

"Haah…"

Unable to throw it away, Garnet fumbled the locket into her pocket and stared dully at the mirror once more. Then, jaw still clenched, her eyes suddenly flashed — and on impulse, she snatched up the scissors beside her.

"This wretched hair — right now, I'll…!"

She was about to shear off her own hair without mercy when—

"No, stop!!"

Someone came leaping out from a corner of the room and flung themselves at her.

"Who—?! Wha…?"

Garnet whirled around, instantly on high guard — then her face went utterly blank.

"Don't do it, Miss Potts!!"

For there, clinging to her with her entire body and wrestling desperately for the scissors, was a tiny young girl of a student.