Have You Never Once Read a Romance Novel?
“What's so funny that you keep snickering like that?”
It was bad enough having a girl giggling away above his head on the walk to school, and Cariel finally pressed her, more accusingly than asking.
-Hm? Oh, nothing much. I just had a pleasant dream, that's all.
“……Ghosts dream now?”
When Cariel snapped back in disbelief,
-Then go ahead and end up like me, if you're so curious.
And she snickered again.
He couldn't tell whether the remark was a joke or something she simply meant. That it wasn't sincere was obvious enough—but.
Like a great forest tree that not even the dimmest mist could obscure.
And yet, the moment he drew close, she turned out to be less a towering tree and more a rotting, twisted dead trunk—or some structure shaped like one.
She seemed to show everything, yet not a single crucial thing. Not one.
Humanly speaking, it was rather cheap of her. Or no—expecting humanity from a Demon King was its own problem.
By this point, Cariel swallowed a wry smile, realizing that he himself wasn't exactly normal either, to be having these thoughts at all.
-Didn't the Great Demon King say that once one falls into obsession, one's tastes turn utterly twisted?
“……So what?”
What in the world was an obsession supposed to mean here, anyway?
Regardless, she was drunk on her own amusement and prattling on one-sidedly.
-One careless step and I nearly became a Demon King of Bliss, or a Demon King of Obsession, instead of Wisdom. Whew, thinking back on it still makes me shudder. Though I suppose that sort of corruption might not have been so bad?
“……?”
He'd known all along that she was far from sane, but every now and then he truly wondered what her mental world was even made of.
They do say genius borders on madness.
Except this woman was a being so absurd she made even those brilliant geniuses look like flies by comparison.
Then again, compared to the listless, jaded attitude she usually wore, there was at least some life in her now—which was arguably an improvement.
Is that actually a good thing?
A Demon King, motivated by something.
How horrifying!
Even without motivation, she had been a calamity in and of herself for Cariel. If this kept up, something far worse was coming….
-In a way, your resolve and your decision have been quietly acknowledged, so maybe that makes it misfortune and fortune at once, for you?
“Acknowledged by whom? And what's with the misfortune-and-fortune nonsense….”
He had no idea what she was talking about.
But.
'That woman—she's saying Melineos's sordid precognitive dreams have activated. Meaning that boy Cariel has become a genuine threat in the making.'
He had no intention of forcing anything, and none of steering things in that direction either.
…Still, watching the two of them fight each other to the death until they annihilated one another—perhaps that, too, would have its own spectator's pleasure?
-Well, it's merely one possibility among many, not a settled future. A bit of a shame, that.
By the Demon King's judgment, that boy lacked the mettle to fall so easily—not the way that girl's precognitive dream had shown him. At least, not short of several fatal triggers and catastrophic accidents piling up one atop the other.
…He might become a dropout, a broken wreck of a man. But he was not the sort to grind a blade of vengeance through blood and tears.
Of course.
…If the Demon King herself shoved him headlong into the abyss, that would be another matter entirely.
“Stop muttering to yourself and say it so I can actually understand.”
-No. Why should I? What are you, that I should find you so endearing?
“…….”
-I let your feeble little schemes slide. I stand by and watch. Does it not occur to you that my mercy runs deeper than the ocean floor?
“Haah….”
That much was true.
The Demon King had said she had accomplished her purpose. Her intent, her objective—and the aftermath it had carved into the continent's political landscape.
There was a reason Cariel had been drifting in and out of the library so often lately.
He made his periodic rounds there anyway, so even if someone noticed, they wouldn't find it the least bit strange. And for organizing his thoughts somewhere quiet, there was truly no better place.
But with the second-term exams over, nothing remained but the arrival of the holiday break, and the atmosphere in class had loosened considerably.
…Of course.
Not for everyone.
“Cariel! Can't you even hold your stance properly?!”
“…….”
A truly meaningless stretch of time.
An hour spent drilling that most august of subjects, Imperial Swordsmanship.
Cariel trained with open, flagrant indifference. His swordsmanship instructor promptly singled him out, and the marked target began absorbing a sermon with theatrical relish.
“Running out of patience, are we? You at least devoted yourself to the coursework, and now you treat this as child's play?”
“…….”
“What, have you finally decided to give up on knighthood? Or is it that your father's a Hero and a Knight Commander, your grades are passable, so you figure things will sort themselves out once you graduate?”
“Haah….”
“A sigh? Now you….”
“My apologies.”
Cariel bowed his head obediently.
“I'm not feeling well. That's all it is.”
“And you call that an excuse—”
The instructor let out a heh of exasperation, then nodded slowly.
“…If that's the case, you should have said something and sat out from the start.”
“I'm ashamed of myself.”
Cariel bowed his head even deeper.
Afterward, the two reached a compromise of sorts: he would spectate the rest of the training, legally.
'It's all meaningless drills to me. What, exactly, am I supposed to endure, or strive for, at this point?'
When every hour of training was a net negative, where was motivation supposed to come from?
-Quite right. All it does is twist your muscles and toughen up useless senses.
That was the caliber of commentary he got from the Demon King, snickering as she floated lazily above his head.
And so, even after the swordsmanship drills gave way to sparring matches, he simply sat off to one side, idly letting the time rot.
“…….”
The Imperial Princess watched him for a while.
But truly, only a while.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Arrows came flying.
Not one. Not dozens. At least hundreds.
Count them all together and it was more than that—but right now, those hundreds were all that concerned Cariel.
Shield in hand, eyes wide open.
He advanced.
“Ghhk!”
The arrows' momentum threw his body backward even as he blocked them. He sprawled, tossed aside the battered shield in his grip, and scrambled forward on his knees to snatch up another shield dropped in the charge.
“Ah, dammit—?!”
It had shattered into fragments.
Under the continuing volley, his whole body stood exposed to the rain of arrows like a straw practice dummy.
“Ghhk!”
Dozens, hundreds of repetitions of that process—until, at long last, he could advance some twenty paces.
But.
That was merely the starting line.
-Either you annihilate the enemy, or you die. This training battlefield offers exactly two resolutions. Only ever those two.
And then—
“Uwaaaaagh!”
-This battlefield's turn, now.
Hundreds of armored cavalry came charging, lances leveled.
The very earth quivered as if struck by thunder, heaving violently as though an earthquake had broken loose—and the cavalry charge struck home.
“—?!?!”
Not even time to scream.
Compared to the arrow rain, evasion itself was easy enough in the opening moments. What came next was the problem.
The cavalry charge swallowed him whole in an instant, like some colossal tidal wave.
Even without being run through by a lance, being trampled by horses, pulverized under hooves until his whole body became rags—the sensation of being broken, crushed, and scattered to pieces was an experience of appalling, senseless horror.
“Ughk!”
He opened his eyes.
The baptism of arrows fell again. Twenty paces. No—this time luck was with him, and even with an arrow through his arm and another in his chest, he clawed his way to twenty-six.
There it ended.
And then, again.
The baptism of arrows. Just when he'd thought he was getting used to it—
Once more, the cavalry charge unfolded.
“At least be CONSISTENT!”
No time even to complain. This time he was run through by a lance.
“Ghhk!”
He didn't end up a shish kebab, but the impact drove the weapon straight through his arm, leaving it dangling loose.
Before he could even process that and suffer the mental shock of it, he was knocked sprawling by a horse again—and after that, just as before, he was trampled by legs and hooves, crushed under the hard iron of horseshoes, his whole body oxidizing into shreds of filthy rag.
“How is THIS supposed to count as training?!”
Wasn't it basic common sense to at least give someone conditions they could resist under?
Throw a small child straight at a ravening beast and say survive—did anyone honestly believe a child would survive that?
But whatever Cariel's heart might protest—
He died, and revived, and died again.
“Uuugh!”
Back in reality, no sooner had he opened his eyes than nausea and the urge to retch surged up; he clamped a hand over his mouth and spent a long while just breathing deep.
-Reality shows no mercy and grants no quarter. Remember well—there is no world made for you, and no such thing as me being on your side either.
“Hoo… hoo!”
-If it infuriates you, then get stronger, and get wiser. That's the only way. The ignorant get trampled, the weak get trampled—that is the world's one and only truth.
Snickering away, the Demon King was, in outward appearance alone, a beautiful demon of cruelty itself.
She was, unmistakably, Cariel's exact ideal type—so why, no matter how he looked at her, did his hatred only keep rising like dough left to proof?
“Hey—you okay?!”
At the sudden sound of a familiar voice, he looked up.
“…….”
“Your complexion is….”
“Didn't I ask you for a little time?”
Seras Esdina.
“I didn't come here to hear that answer, you know. Since when is the library a place people come to see you?”
When Seras shot back with a furrowed brow, Cariel conceded it did make a certain sense, and apologized obediently.
“…Sorry if I was snappish.”
“S-sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Haah—a breath escaped Seras, relief and sigh indistinguishable.
“Since we're on the subject—do you need more time to think? It's not as if you'd ever actually consult your parents about it, is it?”
“…….”
At that blunt question, Cariel fell silent for a moment.
-Oh, this is getting interesting.
Interesting? What on earth had that Demon King seen, to call this interesting of all things….
-I find I may not be entirely without a stake in this myself.
Hm? That voice….
Seras stiffened her spine and reacted sharply, hostility pouring off her tone without the slightest attempt to hide it.
“…What business brings Her Highness Elhermina to a place like this?”
“Seras. I don't believe I've entered somewhere I'm forbidden to be, have I?”
“Of course not, Your Highness. And yet… for you to visit in person….”
“I didn't come here to thumb through books. To be precise, Seras—I came here to see you.”
And then, after regarding Cariel for a long moment with those blue eyes—
“Cariel. The engagement ceremony is in one month. I trust the news reached you in advance?”
“……?”
No. No, it did not.
-Ooh, so THIS is what they call a catfight. Riveting stuff.
What incoherent nonsense was that Demon King spouting now….
Wait—catfight? Cats, fighting?
-What, you don't know that one? Have you seriously never once read a romance novel?
Cariel suppressed his irritation and took a slow, calm breath.
“Then I shall withdraw obediently. It seems the two of you have matters to discuss.”
At that, Seras closed in on him without warning.
“Cariel. Wait. Before that—are you… really all right?”
Seras pressed close and, tilting his chin up with her fingers, began scrutinizing his complexion in meticulous detail.
“…….”
And the Imperial Princess merely watched it all, utterly indifferent.
He didn't know why, but Cariel felt a strangely bizarre sensation—as if he'd been tossed, out of nowhere, onto a sheet of thin ice.
Why is it so COLD in here?
Only after Seras realized the state she'd let herself lapse into and jerked back did Cariel regain his freedom.
“Well then—”
“Such a lukewarm attitude, for one's betrothed.”
Seras pounced as if she'd been waiting for the opening.
“Not yet, I'm afraid. Wouldn't it trouble you if your enthusiasm ran so far ahead of the occasion?”
“Seras. This is the Academy. You needn't speak up to me.”
“If that is Your Highness's wish, then gladly.”
-Things are heating up in here, huh?
Letting the mad Demon King's mad chatter slide right off his back,
Cariel left his seat.
-I'm staying to watch a little longer! I couldn't possibly miss an event this gloriously juicy!
…Do as you like.
Gritting his teeth, Cariel all but ran down the corridor, driving his pace as fast as it would go.
Because any moment now, he was certain, one of those two might call him back.