Fantasy Village
"Not sure if I came here to rest or not."
A deep sigh escaped as he felt the jolting of the carriage heading back to the academy.
"Still, it's not like we came back empty-handed, right? Honestly, even I didn't expect that kind of speed."
"Technically, yeah... but my body and mind are both wrecked."
7th Circle? Absorbing a great demon? All welcome results, no doubt.
But compared to his intention of just resting, it didn't feel like he'd gotten any break at all. Like taking a vacation only for urgent work to pile up, ruining the whole thing.
"By the way, about Joshua. Think he can get back up again?"
He murmured softly, staring blankly at the changing scenery outside the window.
"No idea. Even I've never seen a demon fully integrated like that just vanish."
Joshua hadn't woken up by the time Dante left the family estate. Word was it was due to the physical strain and backlash from the demonization...
'Even I, with my ridiculous recovery, was practically dead after fully demonizing.'
No matter how skilled a mage, without the body recovering, no one could predict the timeline. He might never regain consciousness, even until death.
"Still, a mage around 8th Circle level should recover consciousness within a few years."
"You think? I nearly died after demonizing myself."
"...Master's case is a bit different. Normally, you can recover once the integrated demon is severed."
Dante knew even less about demons than Lilia, so he wasn't exactly an expert. Whatever—dead or alive, it wouldn't affect his life much anymore.
"Master. You're thinking about that woman, aren't you?"
"Woman? Who?"
Luel? No, Dorothy? His messed-up relationships left him surrounded by women, so it was hard to tell which one she meant with so many around.
"I mean your fiancée."
"Ah..."
Not wrong. Having overheard the story, he couldn't help but care. Strictly speaking, Celine had saved his life.
"Planning to talk to her when we get back. Been pretty cold to her lately."
Unavoidable from his perspective without knowing the full story.
'Not sure if I'll even have time for a chat once we're back, though.'
Thinking about the game's original story, everything up to summer break was basically a tutorial. The real game kicked off after summer break—meaning the survival game truly began.
"Gotta get back to academy life too."
"But Master, I've been wondering something..."
"Hm? Wondering what?"
"Doesn't going to the academy feel kinda pointless for you now?"
7th Circle. Even considering academy grads barely hit 5th Circle on average, it was absurd. Professors topped at 6th Circle, the chairman at 8th Circle, and here was a single student at 7th Circle. He even felt like he'd break through to 8th Circle soon.
'Now that she mentions it, yeah, academy feels pointless.'
Reasonable question from Lilia, who knew nothing. A diploma meant zilch now. She'd probably think demon hunting would be more efficient than sticking around.
...And honestly, it probably would be.
"But I just became top rank. Quitting now would be a waste, right?"
Truth be told, less about that and more unease now. He'd derailed the original story completely. Couldn't ignore the butterfly effects.
Positive changes would be great, but an unexpected disaster—like the final boss awakening early and collapsing the world—would kill him too.
'Plus, I've got too many loose ends at the academy.'
Like the club he'd just founded. Ditching it immediately would make him less than human.
"If Master says so, then that's that. I'll just follow."
"Oh, Lilia. Know anything about Fantasy Village?"
"Huh? Fantasy Village?"
Lilia tilted her head at the sudden topic shift. Unavoidable—he'd forgotten to mention it.
"Loosely speaking, it's like a world. Kinda like that paradise last time."
"And?"
"Uh... and some massive entity holds dominion there? Not sure myself."
"I see...?"
Felt similar to the game. Info on Fantasy Village there was scarce too—just that it underpinned Dorothy's power.
No clue what exactly lay inside, even as a possessor.
Fantasy Village presented players with hellish Sophie's Choice.
'Kill Dorothy, or kill another heroine.'
That brain-dead dilemma had killed off countless players. He'd been a victim too.
But that was a game.
Now that the game was his reality, he wouldn't fall for such idiotic choices.
Reality always held infinite possibilities.
He'd take the third option.
'The owner of that damn Fantasy Village that sets up the trap?'
In the game, combat wasn't even an option. No identity revealed, just immense power.
So what now? In a game where early limits were 4th Circle, he was already a 7th Circle mage.
"Wanna get back to the academy quick."
"Didn't you just say you didn't wanna go?"
"Eh. Just feels like fun stuff's coming up."
Of course, after arriving and catching some real rest first.
A dimly lit room lit only by a single candle. It didn't suit the girl who always acted nonchalant.
It evoked an underground dungeon straight out of a novel.
"Ughhh... Quiet for years, and now whyyy...!"
Dorothy raised mana in her palm with an irritated voice. She'd love to blast some magic at an enemy, but no such luck.
So she just kept casting and dispelling spells alone until the vast mana lingering in her body depleted.
'Thought hitting 7th Circle fixed it for good...'
The 7th Circle, where mages began building their own world. A turning point, usually.
Reach it, and incurables were cured. The legless grew legs. A realm reconstructing the world and even one's body.
Thus, little Dorothy had dreamed of it since first hearing hell's whispers—to overcome her cursed constitution and fate with her own hands.
Talent and effort paid off, ascending to 7th Circle.
Yet now she writhed in agony like years ago.
"Huuuh... Haaaahk!"
Her breath grew ragged. Terror flooded her as it felt like it might stop any second.
But amid the fear, Dorothy calmly regained steady breathing.
"Enough... alreaaady...!"
An empty room, no one to talk to. Yet Dorothy spoke casually.
"If I die, you lose all hope too."
She said no more. A single resolute word showing her iron will.
At that, the rampaging mana in her body suddenly quieted.
As if the mana flowing through her had a will of its own.
'Shouldn't have craved that power back then.'
Memories surfaced of her past self, selling matches to survive. Cold, hungry, lonely—vivid.
That young girl had moved only to live.
—Krrrk.
Creeeeak!!!!
A grotesque sound shook the tightly shut window, flinging it open and closed.
"Dorothy."
"........."
"Never forget. That power and potential you hold will soon all be mine."
"...Get lost. You're annoying."
"You, who once nurtured match flames, wielding fire now—thanks to me."
"I said get lost."
"Don't forget."
The unpleasant voice echoing in her head faded slowly.
Dorothy bit her lip hard, grimacing at the foul sensation.
And yet.
The voice's owner—the one who'd soured her mood—sat in a chair, smiling.
"Yes. You'll soon be my brush, painting my illusions across the world."
Her very essence, her all, unrecognizable and hidden from everyone. Despair had led to millennia of abandonment.
And now.
This sole chance after eons.
It would never let it slip.
"Dorothy. My one and only child."
Slowly setting down the brush in hand, it wiped the paint from its right hand.
"Looking forward to working with you."
To dye the world in its colors.