The Trial (1)
"…A demonic sword with a will of its own, you say?"
Kallen murmured to himself, rifling through his memories.
"Last time it was just… a lump of fog, I thought."
"It is because you accepted my power."
The black-haired woman curled the corner of her mouth into a sardonic smile.
"Only then did this sword gain eyes worthy of beholding its master."
"Funny how every other word out of your mouth is 'master' this, 'master' that…"
Kallen scrunched up his face, clearly displeased by her words.
Without warning, he swung his arm out in a sweeping grab, as if to snatch her by the hair.
"?"
His head tilted to the side.
His hand had closed around nothing but empty air.
"Refrain from such irreverent behavior."
The voice came from behind him, as calm as could be.
Kallen clicked his tongue at the sight of the woman standing primly before him, hands folded neatly one atop the other.
"…I suppose disciplining an ill-mannered demonic sword will have to wait."
It wasn't as if he could lay a hand on something that wouldn't hold still, yet his suspicious gaze bore into her all the same.
"So? Whose demonic sword are you? Not the plague, I take it… War, then? Or Desire?"
"…Do not dare compare me to those worthless rabble."
For the first time, a flicker of genuine displeasure settled visibly onto the woman's serene face.
She looked straight at Kallen and spoke in a voice cold as frost.
"I am Death."
"What?"
An involuntary smirk spread across Kallen's face.
Just like the demons themselves, the demonic swords forged by the Demon Gods invariably belonged to one of their three domains—no exceptions.
As far as Kallen knew, no Demon God or demon bearing the name of Death had ever existed anywhere.
"Never heard of it. Never seen it, either."
"Can the world's order be fathomed by so brief a learning as yours?"
"Hah. Pretty grandiose, though. Death, Death, Death…"
The voice that had been rolling the word around in its mouth slowly lost its force and crumbled away.
Before he knew it, Kallen's gaze had returned to the woman before him.
He posed his question with a faintly subdued air.
"If you really are Death… could you perhaps bring back the ones who've already died?"
The voice was casual, offhand.
But unlike his tone, his gray, weary eyes held an undeniable, aching desperation.
"Impossible."
Yet it was scattered into nothing by the simple shake of the woman's head.
"What has already crumbled to dust and drifted beyond reach cannot be undone. Even if they were returned to you, it would last but an instant—and even then, it would never be the reunion you long for."
"…I see."
Kallen's mouth curved into a sneer so sudden and complete it was as if the moment had never happened.
"Well, it was worth asking. Grand name, utterly useless. Typical demonic sword."
He forced down the turmoil rising beneath a glib, exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.
Changing the subject in a heartbeat was part of that same effort.
"So? Why did you drag me to this gloomy, reeking place, anyway?"
"I did not call you. You entered this court of your own accord, seeking an audience."
"You'd best not try any tricks. Like trying to steal my body, for instance. I have no intention of being jerked around by some demonic sword."
"That is not yours to decide."
A smile—a strange, knowing smile—curled at the corner of the woman's lips.
"Your ruin is a foretold outcome. The moment you bowed your head before me, that fate was already sealed."
"Bullshit."
Kallen scowled with open contempt and growled.
"You'll be sealed away again, unable to so much as breathe. Consider yourself lucky I played with you at all."
"…"
A deep, bewitching smile traced along the woman's lips.
The woman of unknown identity simply let his hostility wash over her, her composure unshaken.
"…What an amusing spectacle it was."
Her feet began to move slowly along the walkway.
"A teacher who would burn even her own soul for the sake of her student."
She gazed down at the crimson petal blooming at her feet with eyes that mirrored his own.
"Such insipid, half-measured sentiment. And with her own path barely begun… Pfft."
A light, merry laugh, as if savoring a farce staged for her amusement.
"You do have a tendency to underestimate yourself terribly."
After a slight bend at the waist, her slender fingers stroked the petal gently.
Snap—even the simple motion of breaking the stem carried an elegance almost excessive.
"…And one day you, too, will grovel before me, begging for power. And in the end, you will be destroyed, without a single means of escape."
Eyes closed, savoring the flower's fragrance, the woman simply let the words spill out—prophecy or certainty, not even she cared to say.
"And I… find myself awaiting that day most eagerly."
Krrrk…!
All at once, the earth shook with tremendous violence.
The thick fog scattered, and the surrounding landscape shattered into fragments as though the whole world were collapsing, falling away into a deep abyss.
Even amid that crumbling scenery, the woman turned back toward Kallen with perfect calm.
"…It seems the time allotted to us ends here."
Slowly, she stepped toward him, one footfall at a time.
"It's all right. I can wait."
By then the world had sunk into deep darkness all around them, and the woman stood pressed close before Kallen.
Tracing his cheek tenderly with her slender fingers, she murmured as if whispering a secret.
"Go now, my knight. Until we meet again."
***
"…?"
It took him a moment to adjust to the transformed scenery.
The warm sunlight filtering in through the window and the gentle breeze drifting in through the open door gradually restored his sense of reality.
Only then did Kallen realize he was lying in the infirmary at Elysion, and he let out a long sigh.
"Haa…"
As he turned his head, his gaze landed on the sword propped up beside his bed.
Kallen's brow furrowed deeply.
"…You really are no ordinary piece of scrap metal."
No matter how fiercely he glared at it like a dueling stare-down, the old sword maintained a stubborn silence.
It didn't take long to realize he was wasting his time alone.
"Well, I had a rough idea already…"
Kallen sighed heavily once more and muttered up at the ceiling.
"Maybe it's actually a good thing… Ugh."
The moment the words left his mouth, a sensation terribly familiar yet prickling and cold came crawling up along the fingertips of his right hand.
The demonic sword clearly had no intention of leaving his body alone for even a moment.
"Tch. I told you to cut out the games…"
Scowling, Kallen uncapped the canteen beside his pillow and drank deeply.
A single gulp, and the prickling sensation melted away like snow in the sun.
"Phew… that really was a close call, though…"
And then, mid-sigh, Kallen's eyes snapped open, narrowed with wariness.
Only now did he register the heavy weight of something pressed against his lower body.
His gaze dropped downward at once.
"…"
A magic department student, unmistakable by her fiercely red hair.
Judith Vitelles was fast asleep against his leg, her face soft and unguarded.
"…Huh? Why is she…"
Kallen was about to stare at her in dumbfounded disbelief at the utterly unexpected situation when—
"Mmnh…"
The tips of her long lashes seemed to tremble for an instant, and then gradually, large green eyes revealed themselves from behind them.
Judith rose slowly, brushing the hair that had fallen across her face back with practiced ease.
Then, stretching lazily, she began to murmur to herself—
"Haaa… staying up all night was a mistake… dozed off for a second… Huh?"
Rubbing her drowsy eyes to shake off the lingering sleep, she froze in place like a statue.
Reflected in her eyes was the face of Kallen—who had, at some point, sat up and was blinking at her in silence.
"…"
At a chance encounter neither of them had anticipated, the two held their peace for a long while, exchanging nothing but looks.
And once again, it was Judith who lost the standoff.
"A-Aaaah…"
Her cheeks flushed crimson in an instant, as red as her own hair.
***
Even after the commotion died down, Judith showed no sign of leaving, sitting with her body turned toward the bedside.
Why does this feel like something that's happened before?
Kallen stole a glance at her, awkwardly sifting through his memories.
"…I'd rather you not get the wrong idea."
Judith, who had held her silence stubbornly, finally glanced at him sideways and spoke.
All traces of her earlier flusteredness gone, her face was nothing but expressionless, radiating a chill.
Though she couldn't quite hide the fact that her ears were still burning red as a ripe apple.
"What, exactly?"
"I wasn't sitting here because I wanted to."
At his glib, oblivious-sounding response, Judith glared at Kallen with even greater contempt.
"Elysion is extremely busy right now. The professors handling the aftermath, and everyone in the infirmary, are all run off their feet treating the flood of wounded. It wouldn't do to pile more needless burdens on them, now would it?"
"…"
"Who would want to nurse a pathetic, deceitful man like you? Of course everyone avoids it."
"…"
"Well, so I had no choice but to step in, didn't I? As a member of the Empire's most illustrious house, one must sometimes shoulder the unpleasant duties. This is nothing more than a strictly ceremonial act of mutual courtesy…"
"Does sleeping on someone's lap and drooling fall under that courtesy too?"
"Wh-who was drooling?!"
Judith shot up from her seat and shouted at the top of her lungs, like a volcano erupting.
"You are absolutely unbelievable—!"
"…Just kidding."
Kallen waved his hand dismissively, grinning.
Her flared-up embarrassment had her on the verge of bursting into tears.
"Well, anyway. Thanks. I never imagined anyone would be sitting here taking care of me this devotedly."
"…Ha. As if anyone would take such transparent flattery at face value."
Judith scoffed, clearly unamused.
Oblivious to the fact that her once-sharpened eyes had long since softened into something warm and melty.
…She's easy.
Having thought as much to himself, Kallen changed the subject.
"How long was I out?"
"…One day."
Judith answered him dutifully, all while glaring at him hard enough to kill.
"You know something big happened during the practical, right? Anyone hurt? Anyone dead?"
"…The students are all fine. Some of them got injured, but nothing too serious…"
Then a dark shadow fell over Judith's face as she shook her head.
"But…the teaching assistants and the Caliburn Guard aren't in good shape. They tried to shield the students from the demonic humans who broke in, and… several of them were hurt so badly their lives hang in the balance…"
"…"
Kallen found himself thinking of the Caliburn Guard who had desperately held him back in the forest that day.
Even with their own safety in jeopardy, the way they had worried for the students first was something no ordinary sense of duty could have imitated.
"…Long as they didn't die, that's what counts. Why waste time mourning over nothing?"
"The things that come out of your mouth…"
Judith muttered wearily at the sight of Kallen flippantly shrugging his shoulders, then glared daggers at him as if she could devour him whole.
Truth be told, this girl suited anger far better than dejection.
And then, after a brief pause, Kallen looked at her again and asked.
"…Where's Garnet?"
"Potts is… being detained by the paladins."
"What?"
Kallen shouted and bolted upright.
At the sight of him, Judith somehow found herself pouting sulkily.
"Her trial will be held soon."
"A trial…?"
Kallen echoed the words in a stunned voice.
Come to think of it, it was only natural.
He had broken the demonic sword's hold on her, yes—but she had already surrendered herself to its evil and inflicted untold suffering on those around her.
Zealots of the Aten Church or not, no one could simply leave such a person be.
I should have been holding myself together somehow…
As he rubbed his forehead as though his head ached, Judith continued firing off her barbs without mercy.
"Isn't it obvious? The crime of smuggling an Apeiron-class demonic sword into the examination grounds and causing this whole catastrophe. And not just any demonic sword—the Tessak of Wrath, no less…"
That was an Apeiron-class demonic sword?!
Kallen's eyes went wide with fresh shock.
An Apeiron-class demonic sword.
In other words, the very essence of malevolence, forged by a Demon God's own hand in the smithies of Hell.
And the Tessak of Wrath, alongside Roasi sealed beneath the Aten Church and Zgahi, which had turned the East into a plague-ridden wasteland, was counted among the rarest of treasures—the worst demonic swords of the current age.
…And my sword reduced that Tessak to a lump of scrap iron?
As he mulled over the sword's true nature, an uneasy feeling settling over him, Judith's blunt voice cut in from behind.
"Besides, this time Her Imperial Highness, Princess Kaziah, will be presiding over the trial personally."
"…What?"
Kallen froze stiff where he sat.