The Knockout Cudgel

The Bailiff was astonishingly accommodating about my "seer's foresight."

Accommodating enough that I had to ask, carefully, whether it was really all right to believe me with not a shred of doubt. Was he the sort of man who got taken by scams?

He said it was an iron rule: if a mage showed even a scrap of talent for seeing the future, you believed them first. Sprouting little seers and wannabe prophets, apparently, had to be smothered in endless, unconditional affirmation — a thorough petting and pampering — so they could stretch their gifts as far as they liked.

Thanks to that, we were able to talk through the black mage's likely movements, the best response, and a plan of capture without much trouble, all of it drawn from what I remembered of the last two loops.

"Black mages have been hatching every sort of plot to infiltrate this school since ancient times. I cannot say what they intend by slipping a black grimoire into a freshman's bag, but I will see that person seized and interrogated."

His drive was at max, the same drive that had thrown me straight into a cell in Loop 1 without so much as a hello. I left the Academy Main Building with a considerably lighter heart.

"Oh. Freshman?"

"Hello!"

"Yeah, yeah, good that you came. Dorm orientation tomorrow night, first floor, right here. Don't skip it, and don't forget to show. Go on up."

"Yes!"

The moment I stepped into the dorm, the senior with the dark circles offered the greeting in her usual blasé way. I meant to pass her and head for the stairs, then caught myself.

Come to think of it, this was Loop 3 and I still didn't know the dark-circle senior's name. I didn't even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠know whether she was a second-year or a third-year.

"Um, senior. Could I ask your name?"

"Hm? Me? Why? I'll do introductions and all of that at orientation tomorrow."

"It's just... I'm going to be seeing you a lot, so I thought it would help to know. If I meet all the other seniors at once tomorrow, I might mix them up, or forget right away."

The dark-circle senior looked me over with tired eyes, then answered.

"Well, fine, then. Cecilia. Cecilia Potter."

"Yes, I'll remember. Senior Cecilia."

"Yeah, yeah."

Cecilia...

Still nothing.

It was already Loop 3, but if you counted by the calendar, not even a week had passed since I'd been dragged into this game. And even that was generous — I had never made it past the first three days.

I still didn't truly think of Anastacia as myself. The real me was the one outside: a man, a Korean, a modern person living in the twenty-first century, a gamer who would rather bash their head against a wall than look at a guide.

Anastacia felt closer to a playable character. Or an avatar.

Could someone like me look at the people around me and accept them as people, not NPCs? When I didn't even think of myself as anything more than a character inside a game?

I didn't know whether clearing the game would let me go back outside. Maybe I would be shut in here forever, repeating the same days.

My head was tangled for no good reason. And the reason it was this tangled...

"Ah, hello... I'm O-Olivia, of Count Cloel's house... Please just call me Olivia... It's nice to meet you..."

"...Nice to meet you. My name is Anastacia."

"..."

"Um..."

...was Olivia. Obviously.

Last loop, I had approached her on purpose and built a friendship.

She was the one who had thrown me in jail out of nowhere. She had been absurdly strong.

Even so, I knew now that Olivia was a good person. We had only been friends for two days, but I had thought of it as something like a real friendship.

The time we spent together had been fun, too.

So I had no idea how to treat this new Olivia — the Olivia who was meeting me here for the first time. It felt awkward for no reason I could justify.

Nietzsche, the philosopher Koreans love best in all the world — a ranking proven by the bestseller tables groaning under AI one-click cash-grab books that do nothing but borrow his name — once said something along these lines.

Everything in the world, he said, repeats forever in the same order, inside one great cycle.

Inside that eternal recurrence, you have to be able to accept and love every pain, every loss, every good thing and every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bad thing you meet.

Love your fate. Amor fati.

Could I follow his teaching and give every loop my best?

Become Olivia's friend every time, and treat her sincerely — could I do that?

I didn't know yet. Not yet.

Maybe after I had regressed a few more times, or dozens, I would know then.

Until then, I would do my best as far as I could. The way I meant to settle the black mage incident.

"Um... well..."

"H-have a good evening... I'm going to my b-bedroom... to finish unpacking..."

"Yes. You have a good evening too, Olivia."

Awkward. So awkward!

Olivia vanished into her bedroom, and though the evening was still early, I followed her example and went into mine.

On the way, the nameplate on my roommate's door bore a name I had never seen.

"...?"

The next day.

The first day of term began in the most ordinary, uneventful way.

"...And so, incoming students, until each of you has grown into a proper mage, you must bear in mind — bear in mind again — that you are to give your all in every matter as a member of this school; and our continuing students must not forget that they are to set those freshmen a proper example; and the reciprocal contract between our Faculty Guild and the Student Guild, handed down these twelve hundred years..."

I cut cleanly past the dull, pedantic entrance ceremony.

"...What is magic... power... miracle... authority... Magic is the manifestation of will... To become a mage is..."

Understanding Magic proceeded exactly as it had last loop, not a particle out of place. Everything after this: omitted!

"Olivia, want to go get some bap?"

"Um, excuse me... what is... 'bap'...?"

"Huh? Oh — I mean, want to have lunch together?"

"...! Y-yes, I'd like that..."

The ice still hadn't broken, so lunch with Olivia stayed a little awkward and stiff. We ate together anyway.

"...You cast the spell with your will inside it. Ignis. Now, anyone who's ready may cast freely."

"Ignis!"

Fwoosh—

"Gah! Wh-what is that huge fireball!"

"It's blue! Wasn't it common sense that fire is red and yellow?!"

"...Who did they say that was? What? A commoner? That's impossible!"

Murmur, murmur. Whisper, whisper.

In Understanding Spells, I laid my outrageous genius bare and, while I was at it, did a little showing off.

"Magnificent work, Student Anastacia. Did you happen to study magic on your own before you enrolled?"

"Ahaha, no. You just explained it so well, Professor... maybe that's why...?"

"I'm grateful, even if it's only flattery. But as an educator, I can say this with certainty: what you just did was nothing other than the flowering of your own talent. Might you have an interest in elemental magic? Why not come by the faculty research office sometime?"

"Uh... thank you for saying so, but... I'd like to sit in on the other classes first."

"Ah. I see. An excellent attitude. ...Tch."

"...?!?"

I also survived the near-crisis of getting a ring put through my nose over a cup of red-bean tea — the classic pipeline into life as a graduate student.

Professors were skin-crawling in exactly the same way, no matter the world.

And so the hours slipped past, and before I knew it, evening had come.

"A-Anastacia... um, could I... have dinner with you too...?"

I was sorry for Olivia, glancing over and sidling closer, but I had something I needed to do.

"Dinner's no good."

"Wh-what...?"

"I'm sorry, Olivia. I promised to meet someone. Let's eat together tomorrow morning."

"Ah, y-yes... tomorrow... all right..."

"Then I'll be going!"

I said goodbye and made straight for the dormitory.

Who had I promised to meet? The black mage, obviously.

Last loop, the black mage had sniped us near the dorm after we'd eaten and taken a walk. By then, the dorm had already been searched.

The Bailiff and I both had dinner hour as the most likely time for an infiltration. The students would all be out eating, and the streets would be crowded with people coming and going, which made it easy to slip in. There wouldn't be a better chance.

Which meant: what if I returned to the dorm the moment afternoon classes ended, the way I was doing now?

One. If the black mage hadn't infiltrated the dorm yet, I would wait in the bedroom and grab them the moment they came in.

Two. If they were already happily tearing through the bedroom, I would catch them in the act.

Three. If they had finished searching and were already waiting at the sniper's perch, the patrol — lying in ambush nearby from even earlier — would catch them.

One of the three. That was the word.

I left the classroom quarter and walked slowly along the main road. When I drew near the dormitory quarter on the north side of the school, I felt someone tap my right shoulder. I turned my head just enough to check that side. No one was there.

I barely moved my lips, and whispered.

"Invisibility magic?"

"Correct. The Headmaster cast it himself, so it should hold for another two hours yet."

The answer came back as a whisper too. It was the Bailiff.

"Oh, wow. How strong is Grandpa Headmaster?"

"Hm... If I tell you he is one of only five Grand Magisters on the continent, does that serve as an answer?"

"Aha."

What the hell does that mean?

By the time our dorm came into view, I shut my mouth and kept it shut. My heart started thudding. The Bailiff seemed to notice the tension, and whispered again.

"The patrol is also concealed nearby, under invisibility. Whoever tries to enter the dorm will be taken alive the moment they're found, so you may set some of that worry down."

I answered with a small nod.

Soon I reached the dorm, opened the door, and went in. The seniors must all have gone to eat; the place was nothing but silence.

Tak— tak—

My footsteps rang loud on the stairs. I couldn't hear the Bailiff's at all. Maybe he'd cast a sound-dampening spell on top of the rest.

At last, the fourth floor. I stood before my bedroom door, swallowed once, and flung it open.

"Not yet, it seems."

"Looks that way."

Whew.

All that tension, and the room was perfectly intact. The window was shut tight, too.

"I will hide with my back to the wall on the right of the window. You had best lie on the bed and pretend to sleep. It will put them off their guard."

"All right."

As instructed, I climbed onto the bed, pulled the blanket over myself, and lay down. Shoes off, of course. I was Korean.

Eyes half-closed, I started rehearsing the fight. If I heard the window open, I would bolt upright and feed them a fireball. Lucky it was a brick house and not a wooden one, so there was no real risk of burning the place down. No — they might throw black magic straight at the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bed, so it would be better to roll off and drop down beside it.

I couldn't have said how long I waited. I stayed tense until my shoulders began to ache and sleep started creeping in, and that was when a quiet rattle reached me. Through my slitted eyes, I watched the bedroom window ease open.

And then—

The window opened all the way, and the instant the black mage in the black robe set a foot inside the room—

"Cateno!"

I tumbled off the bed.

"Ignis!"

"...!!!"

From right beside the window came the Bailiff's spell, and from my side — I had rolled clear of the bed in one scramble — came mine. Both of them drove into the black mage at once.

"Ghk..."

The fireball clipped their right shoulder. They groaned and thrashed in pain, but the chains the Bailiff's spell had called wrapped them fast where they stood, and the black mage couldn't move an inch.

"Silentium!"

The Bailiff followed through without a pause. The silence spell struck clean. The black mage worked their mouth furiously, and not a scrap of voice came out.

Whew. Did that do it?

I had been crouched beside the bed. I got up and straightened myself out. And put my shoes back on.

"Is it over?"

"One moment. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Syncopo Fustiso!"

A wooden club formed in the empty air and came down on the black mage's skull with a crack. Still bound, the body toppled where it stood.

"Ooh."

"The Knockout Cudgel. A truly useful spell."

The Bailiff dismissed the invisibility and showed himself, wearing, for some reason, an immensely satisfied look.

"Yes!"

Satisfaction came rushing up, and a wide grin spread over my face before I could stop it.