The Finale
The blade sank home.
The Hero cut the monster down with a pained look on her face. And yet something felt wrong. Until moments ago, everyone had believed they might die. Two high-ranking demons had been hunting the exam students, after all. But those high-ranking demons never appeared. Only the occasional monster or low-ranking demon drifted out of the forest, and even those showed themselves rarely. Mid-ranking demons that should have swarmed in with open hostility merely wandered, as if their will had simply gone out of them. As if the demons had lost the head that issued their orders.
That was precisely why she felt more uneasy, not less.
"...There is no reason the high-ranking demons would simply vanish."
They had carried malice. Unmistakable malice — the kind that meant they would kill someone, no matter what. If so, the high-ranking demons that remained might already have gone after someone among the scattered exam students. And who would that someone be? She did not need long to arrive at an answer.
"Frang. Argal."
The two most dangerous mages. Argal was all but incapacitated, and Frang was not strong enough to rise above the circumstances she had been given. It was the perfect situation for a high-ranking demon to pick them off. The Hero's unease sharpened. If those two came back dead, nothing in the world would be more terrible. She did not want to live with that regret.
She turned and spoke to the exam students. After the bombardment, she had been gathering the ones who had been blown apart and standing over them as their shield. Their numbers had swelled quickly; looking at them now, she had collected more than half.
"...I have somewhere I must go for a moment. Will you be all right if I leave?"
"Where are you going?"
"Hero, without you this is going to be pretty rough..."
The students under her protection were less than thrilled. Even if the monsters coming at them were weaker now, they could only hold the line without casualties if the Hero stayed. Then she said what she said next, and every last attitude flipped.
"I am going to save Argal and Frang..."
"What are you standing around for? Why aren't you running already?"
"I don't care about anything else — that guy has to live."
"It's not like we can't hold out. Having the Hero babysit this spot is overkill anyway."
The Hero was, briefly, at a loss. Had these same people not been trying to hold her back a moment ago? Now they were practically shoving her out the door. The weight on her shoulders lifted. Most of them were telling her to go, and gladly. No one said it out loud, but everyone here understood what Argal had given up for them.
"Understood. I pray you will hold out as well."
"It's a handful of monsters at most. You think we can't handle that?"
"Don't worry about us. Just go and get back here."
She nodded and ran. If she was even a little late, the worst might already be waiting. Her stride grew more urgent with every step. She knew the direction well enough. A great storm of power was tearing through the air from one side of the forest. Had Argal or Frang already brought down a high-ranking demon?
...And yet one thing she was certain of settled over her. The end of this affair was close. So she prayed to God. Please, let this not end in tragedy. Let everyone who has survived until now live. That was her earnest wish.
Canceling the contract did not take long. The professor summoned a devil with practiced ease, bargained back and forth, and under a tidy little agreement decided that instead of taking my life, the devil would walk away with the relics she had put on the table.
But that felt like a waste. Do I look like someone who'd let a sucker's contract slip through his fingers?
The nice thing about a silent devil is that even if I cannot speak, I can still make myself understood. I caught the devil as it turned to leave after the cancellation, and I offered it a double contract. Keep the claim on my life as originally planned — but change the terms so the relics the professor paid out come to me instead. And I get to decide when that life is collected.
The relics offered by the professor shall pass to the contractor.
The hour at which the life is taken shall be decided by the contractor alone.
In exchange, the original claim upon that life remains intact.
The devil accepted as if anything suited it fine. Instead of collecting a life that meant nothing, the relics the professor had paid out would come to me. I had actually turned a creative profit — enough that I did not need to feel cheated about failing to die this time. Did you see that, Professor? That is how you make a contract with a devil.
Frang and Besia, who knew none of that background, let out sighs of relief. Someone who could have died had come back. And Besia's healing was so fierce that I, who had been hovering at the edge of death, had reached the point where I could move my mouth.
"...You can stop healing now."
"Argal...!"
"You're awake?!"
The instant I spoke, both girls came crashing into me. Yes, I was awake, but if they hugged me like that my body was going to come apart. I was already in no condition to withstand two people's physical strength. And their eyes, meanwhile, had gone murderous. Each of them was trying to hold me, and two people wrapping themselves around one person is a little strange, is it not?
"You. Hands off."
"Shouldn't you yield to someone who hasn't seen him in a while?"
"Yield? I thought Argal was dying a second ago! You're the one who should be yielding to me!"
"...I am actually going to die at this rate, so let's stop."
Besia ignored that entirely, clamped down on my throat, and snarled.
"You're really gonna die? Then should I show you what dying for real looks like? You threw yourself away last time too, and you did it again? You trying to fucking die?"
"Ghhhk."
"Stop it! He's actually going to die!"
It was not violence a body in my condition could endure. That was how genuinely furious Besia was.
Rustle. Rustle.
While they were still bickering, someone came pushing through the forest. Frang braced for a fight, thinking it might be a demon — then a familiar face appeared.
"Reinhardt?!"
"Yeah."
"And Asel's here too?"
"Uuuugh..."
The Sword Saint, and even the Spear Saint. Just as I had wanted, the Sword Saint had been looking after the Spear Saint. That much I could accept. But how had they found us? It was not as if the Sword Saint had detection abilities like the Hero.
"How did you find us, Reinhardt?"
"When the explosion went off, I memorized the direction you two flew."
...He was, without question, a human who exceeded expectations. He memorized the direction and came looking? Was this man even human?
"Th-that's possible?"
"You think that alone would have been enough? I only roughly figured out the direction. What actually let me find you was a very loud blast."
"Ah..."
Frang recalled the carpet bombardment she had unleashed and nodded, as if that checked out. Besia looked at the Sword Saint — a face she was seeing for the first time — and said,
"Who are you?"
"And who are you? I don't recall there being a priest among the exam students."
"Huh. That's right? How did you get through the barrier?"
Unlike the Sword Saint, whom she was meeting for the first time, Frang did not carry much wariness. Besia had treated me, and the professor had canceled the devil's contract that held my life. Frang trusted them. Trust was trust, of course, but there were still things that needed asking. How they had broken through the barrier. Their names. Their identities. Questions she would want answered.
The professor seemed to have no interest in any of that whatsoever. She just kept staring at me with a persistent, hungry gaze — the look of someone who would take my life herself in the devil's place if I did not hand over the Extreme Intent this instant. Which, naturally, made me even less willing to give it. Well, take a life if you want. It is infinite anyway. Cheap at the price.
In the end, instead of the professor who ought to have been explaining their presence, Besia did the talking.
"I'm Besia the priestess, and this is Professor Ophelia. We could break through the barrier so we came in, but there were limits. Only the two of us made it through."
"So you're a rescue party... You're quite late. You arrived after everything was already over."
"Late? We came as fast as we damn well could."
Besia looked indignant, but the Sword Saint shook his head as if there was no need.
"...But as a healer, the timing was sufficient. You saved someone who nearly died. That alone is enough."
He muttered it while looking at my clothes, which were soaked through with blood. That I had scraped past death was obvious even at a glance. Besia turned a puzzled look on me.
"What did you do for a guy who looks that unlucky to have this much goodwill toward you?"
"...Beats me."
I did not know either. I should probably consider the Sword Saint from before the regression gone. He had not originally been this kind of person, so it sat awkwardly with me too.
"Waaagh!"
A crash, a tumble — the Spear Saint's legs gave out as she tried to come down the hill, and she rolled straight to the bottom. The slope was low enough that she was not badly hurt, but it was more than enough to sink her expression another shade darker.
"This is your fault..."
"This again."
"I used my finishing move twice to save you, so I have no strength left in my body at all..."
The Spear Saint, at least, was as consistent as ever. Yes. It was better that she stay that way. The more I watched these haters turn into decent human beings, the harder it was to adapt. Having at least one of them stay the same as before was probably for the best.
And they were not the only guests who had arrived. This time, Besia seemed to recognize the newcomer as well.
"Th-the Hero?"
"You know her face well?"
"The Hero grew up in the Church. Lived there. As someone affiliated with the Church, there's no way I wouldn't know her."
That was true enough. The Hero and the Church were bound tightly together. Chosen by God from childhood and raised within the Church — that was what a Hero was. There was no chance Besia, a priestess, would fail to recognize that face.
The Hero's expression darkened when she saw me covered in blood. Then her lips curved.
"I am glad you did not die."
She was happy I was alive. Looking at that gloomy face and those smiling lips, two contradictory feelings seemed to be occupying the same space.
"...We should head back now. Hero."
"Of course. That is what we shall do."
My body was in no state to move on its own, so I had been hoping someone would support me. This time both Frang and Besia rushed over at once, which was its own kind of problem. ...I did not even know anymore.
"You're small, so Argal's going to be uncomfortable."
"Urgh — is that what matters? What matters is a person's sincerity."
"I'm sincere too!"
After fighting over it, they settled on taking turns at set intervals. Even if I was light, one person could not carry me alone all the way out of the forest. A wise decision.
Then I spoke to the professor.
"...Professor. As someone responsible for the Academy, you have a job to do, don't you?"
I knew that given her personality, if I did not say it to her face she would not even register the problem. She answered as if she had no idea what I meant.
"What job?"
"You need to lead the students."
"Hmm."
With a face that looked truly, deeply annoyed, the professor fired a massive spell into the sky. Enormous letters unfurled across the heavens — a summons calling every last exam student to gather. A truly convenient method. She had no intention of going to collect them herself, then? ...This was probably the best I could expect from her. The professor was halfhearted about everything except the things that actually interested her.
The signal had gone up. Exam students began to trickle in, then pour.
"You guys were alive."
"Is that person over there a professor? Did they finally come to save us?"
"We're alive. We're actually alive!"
They rejoiced at the sight of other students who had survived that massive explosion, and they cheered even louder at the fact that a professor was here to guarantee their safety. The end of the ordeal had arrived. There was not a single high-ranking demon left that even my senses could pick up, and even if another one appeared, the professor alone could have handled it without breaking a sweat.
...We had truly reached the final stretch.
More students gathered. Besia treated the wounded among them, and even those with injuries that should have killed them at any moment stood up perfectly whole after a single pass of her hands — a miracle, plain and simple. And then there were the ones who had come back from the dead.
"Blash... you're okay, right?!"
"H-how am I still alive...?"
"The priestess saved you!"
Before long we reached the black magic barrier. Every last exam student had gathered. Not one missing. The Hero had personally gone and brought back every person who had failed to see the professor's magic and so had not come. There were no stragglers.
The Hero drew her sword.
A heavy boom. The wall of the barrier began to crumble. Another impact, deeper, and a hole tore open in the barrier — more than wide enough for one person, or two, to pass through. While everyone else was lost in joy, only the professor was turning over cause and effect.
"The Hero's power can shatter a barrier with powerful regenerative capabilities... Interesting."
The Hero's sword had struck the barrier dozens of times. Only one blow remained. She said it as she swung.
The world split open.
From a catastrophe in which more than half would have died, it had stopped at a catastrophe of fifty dead. Because Frang, who had been meant to meet death, had found a new fate: survival. I let my heart rest.
And so the barrier.
The prison that had bound us.
At last.
Came crashing down.