[No title provided]
The martial arts tournament wrapped up with far fewer hiccups than I'd expected.
Polo, naturally, steamrolled his way through without a hitch, while Her Highness the princess—regrettably—bowed out around the midway point of the finals.
For someone like her, who relies more on brains than brawn as a strategist, putting on that kind of show with a body worn down from years of administrative drudgery was downright impressive, by all accounts. Not that she saw it that way; she was moping a bit over being the first to drop.
"Uuuu."
"Calm down. For someone of your caliber, Princess, that was more than enough. Getting to the finals in the first place is a huge feat."
"But still..."
It was a solid result by any measure, but apparently not up to her standards. I swallowed a wry smile as I watched her sulk even as the matches were winding down. She probably hadn't meant to let it slip out like that, but without her usual dignified tone, she just looked like a petulant kid—which was kinda funny.
"Princess. But honestly, there's no real need for you to be so hung up on this tournament, right? Why the obsession?"
"Why...? Well, obviously because I wanted to show you how useful I—"
"?"
!!
Princess, lost in thought and mumbling absently, suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth. Whatever had slipped out unconsciously, she acted like it was some forbidden secret, panicking as she blocked her lips, not knowing what to do.
"Me?"
"N-No... I mean... Right! I just wanted to prove to you how helpful I can be!"
"Ah, got it."
I had no idea why she, who was already plenty helpful to me, felt that kind of pressure—maybe tied to her duties as student council president or her ambitions as a princess eyeing the throne—but it made me feel a twinge of guilt knowing she'd been fretting over it in secret.
"It's fine. You're already more than helpful to me just as you are, Princess. No need to push yourself to prove anything."
"R-Really? Oh... hehe."
The saintess and Luna shot unimpressed looks at the crumbling princess, but I was satisfied knowing I'd eased her burden even a little.
And then came Lady Celine Euse's match.
Her opponent had climbed this far too, so he was no slouch—the mana flow I sensed from afar screamed "serious contender."
Boom!
Boom!
Crack-crack-crack!
An earth magic user, he kicked things off by summoning a massive golem from the ground. Not the best matchup for the lady, who specialized in ice magic.
Fire melts ice, wind scatters it, but earth—especially the defensive kind—is a nightmare even when frozen; it's not easy to deal with.
Clang!
Clang!
"Ngh!"
Unlike ice magic, which shines on offense, earth magic can be a perfect siege engine for both attack and defense if the user's skilled enough—which draws a lot of talent to the field. This guy wasn't perfect yet, but his grasp of earth magic was solid; he pressed her hard, manipulating the giant golem.
"Lady Celine seems a bit at a disadvantage..."
"Eh, maybe..."
But I knew better. I knew she was the real genius.
Crack-crack-crack!!
"Wh-What?!"
Ice suddenly sprouted from a gap in the golem's left arm, growing to shatter it clean in two.
"Huh? What was that?"
"She faked an ice spell to mask a water one, spraying it near the elbow joint. Then, when it swung and exposed an opening, she froze the water to crack the heel."
I watched the duel in awe at the fruit of her split-second judgment and deep magic insight.
The fierce back-and-forth made it anyone's guess who'd win.
Then.
"—!!"
A low, instinctual danger alarm rang through me. The chilling warning raced up my spine, and I scowled, rising from my seat.
"Hold on. I gotta step out for a bit."
"Huh? Mars? Step out where— Hey, wait!"
Magic division semifinals qualifier.
Win this, and she'd lock in a top-four spot—so she brimmed with confidence. Not from self-love, mind you, but from wanting to show off her talent to a certain someone.
!!
At the announcer's booming call, both sides unleashed spells without hesitation.
Celine clocked right away that the golem's instant summon meant this wouldn't be easy.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
The golem's mere stomps unleashed disaster-level force. Even ice magic had limits against a rampaging rock mass.
Tch! He's dead set on knocking me out here.
But she'd calmly analyzed its weaknesses amid the onslaught and succeeded in lopping off an arm, dulling its momentum. Realizing raw power wasn't everything, she'd honed ways to use her ice specialty more creatively—and it was paying off now.
Plus, with Mars in the stands directly opposite, she could watch him the whole match, boosting her mood.
Haha! Nailed it! Mars, did you see th—!
She glanced at the stands, expecting admiration—
"Huh?"
Mars, frowning. Then bolting up and heading out of the stands.
"Wha...?"
The unexpected sight froze her brain solid.
"Opening!"
Whoosh—!!
Her opponent's earth magic capitalized. The golem crashed down on her, ending the match.
Celine's final memory: staring at that one empty seat in the stands as consciousness faded.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
"Guh!!"
The academy's vast underground sewers—dubbed the "underground waterways"—were a mysterious relic predating the academy itself. Theories pegged it to the mythic era, but how such a colossal facility was built remained unknown.
Partially used for sewage, its internals were so immense they hadn't been fully mapped.
And in one tiny corner of that vastness—
Boom!
Boom!
Crackle-crackle...
"Expensive ingredients deserve extra care~ Eating 'em raw ain't gourmet, y'know?"
"Die."
Prazia slashed horizontally at the sneering fat man before her.
Thud—
"?!?"
"Buhi!~ This ain't just fat, see~? It's hard-earned blubber—can't let it get hurt so easy~"
I felt the blade connect with flesh... but no impact? Does he absorb all shock?
Thirty minutes earlier, wandering with her friend Delphine, Prazia had waited after Delphine stepped away to the restroom—ten minutes and counting—starting to worry.
'That the half-dragon?'
'...What're you creeps? That stench...
'Follow us.'
'Why should I?'
'Your friend's with us. Don't wanna hear our exec munchin' her limbs? Come quietly.'
'!!'
Then these foul, ominous creeps appeared. On alert, but hearing Delphine was hostage, she complied.
Down a hidden passage into the sewers, a massively obese man—several times her size—greeted her.
'Hi~ I'm Gula of the Heaven God Cult... Gourmet connoisseur, believe it or not?'
'Release Delphine.'
He reeked worse than the others, but fearing harm to her friend, Prazia demanded her release.
'Sure thing.'
'??'
'If ya grant one lil' request~ Buhi-hit~'
'What?'
Willing for anything reasonable, she waited—
'Can I get a taste of you?~'
'—!!'
His jaw unhinged impossibly, snake-like; instinct screamed danger. She swung her sword.
Thump—
"What...?"
"Heehee... Yeah, post-work meal's the best..."
Repulsed as he licked his lips, she slashed dozens of times—but his flesh absorbed every blow, no damage.
"Hah... hah..."
"Tired? Buhi-hit! All that movin' made ya nice 'n tender~"
Treating her like meat, Gula hoisted her arm with his flabby paw.
"Agh!!"
His brute grip, no mercy, drew a pained groan even from dragon-blooded her.
"It's fine. Just a taste from one arm~ Ahh~"
Unable to resist with her sword arm caught, she squeezed her eyes shut for the pain.
Tap-tap.
"Ahh~ Huh...?"
The interrupting noise made Gula turn. There, a wolf-masked man leaned on his sword, tapping the wall.
"Hey, pig. Dinner time ain't here yet."