Midterm Exams (4)

Nakrad, who had been active elsewhere and returned to the outskirts of the Academy only when the appointed day arrived, let out a hollow laugh at the sight before him: every single dungeon he had marked had vanished.

What in the world is going on?

They hadn't merely been left alone — they'd been hidden by Tariki's own authority, and somehow they had been found and conquered anyway.

One could be stumbled upon by chance.

But nearly a dozen dungeons, all cleared?

There was no need to wonder who the culprit was. Whoever conquered the dungeons had deliberately left their mark behind, as if taunting him.

The Apostle of Armadi. That damned god, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a pest not worth chewing and swallowing — what revelation did She whisper into your ear?

I should have killed her that day. I let my emotions carry me away, playing with the girl instead — and got burned for it.

Gritting his teeth until they nearly cracked, Nakrad soon exhaled a long, slow breath.

This is a problem. At this rate, the plan will come apart at the seams.

He had intended to recruit one foolish girl and exploit her desires to sow chaos within the Academy. He had meant to scatter Tariki's power at the very moment the Academy's magic was shaken by the dungeons' rampage — and now this!

Nakrad dragged a hand down his face.

Is it my own arrogance that jeopardizes what our God desires? I would atone with this life here and now if I could, but I cannot — not yet. Even if I did, it would change nothing. Twisted though the path may be, I must find a way to fulfill Tariki's will. That is the duty of an Apostle. My life can be offered up later.

If only I had time, I would search for another plan. But I don't even have that.

"I knew this would happen. I should never have left my post."

What good is spreading Tariki's glory far and wide, if I fail at the very thing Tariki desires?

As Nakrad ground his lips together until they bled, turning the problem over and over in his mind —

'Ah, my child.'

A voice drifted into his ears.

'My child.'

A voice flowing out of the shadows, coiling around his head like smoke.

Nakrad knew this voice. Precisely because he was Nakrad, he knew it.

"Ahh... Lord Tariki."

The Apostle of the Evil God dropped to his knees at once and bowed in reverence, tears spilling at the mercy of a God who would speak to him even after his failure.

'Do not despair. The heart of our faith has prepared for everything.'

"Ahh..."

'The power He has portioned out shall reach you as well.'

Several days had passed since I started wiping out the dungeons around the Academy, and now it was the night before the midterm exams began. I was sprawled out with a book open, studying for tomorrow's test.

Can you even call that studying? You're just flipping pages.

"My Blessing remembers everything, so it's fine."

Young lady. Studying, you see, is not merely about earning high marks...

By now I'd gotten quite skilled at letting Gramps's nagging slide in one ear and out the other, so I just gave him noncommittal grunts while skimming the text with my eyes.

Yep! Still don't understand a word of it!

I'd thought this before, but trying to learn anything from a foundation of literally zero basics is absurdly difficult. If I actually wanted to study properly, I'd probably have to start with the picture books seven- or eight-year-olds read. And I can't just sleep through every class forever, so maybe I should at least pretend to study sometime.

Flipping through the pages with that idle thought, I soon shut the book and stretched. Everything that would be on tomorrow's exam was already saved in my log — I'd just need to pull it up right before the test to double-check.

Haaah. Once the exams are over, I should take at least a day off. Things have been absolutely chaotic lately, clearing dungeons. I'd been running myself ragged — three dungeons a day, just to buy myself a little breathing room. And from the midpoint on, I hadn't just coordinated from the back lines for efficiency's sake; I'd been jumping into the fights personally.

That grind paid off plenty, though.

My level blew past my target and hit 25, my pockets grew fatter thanks to a pile of assorted loot, and all that real combat experience pushed my mace proficiency and shield proficiency way up too.

So much so that Gramps, after watching me fight, now says I could hold my own against a decent knight and fight them to a fine standstill.

Of course, "decent" does not include the knights of the Aln household. According to Gramps, everyone who trains there is a freak of nature, people far beyond what the current me could handle. To fight the household's knights on even footing, I'd need to train for a good while longer.

Well, I can still feel the sword going easy on me during sparring, so of course the results would be different against the household's other knights, wouldn't they?

Either way, my current growth rate is absurdly steep. By game standards alone, it'd be considered fast — no further comment needed. All that hellish training at the Aln household before enrolling at the Academy must finally be bearing fruit.

At this point, I think I could beat even the stronger upperclassmen among the second years. And no matter how I look at it, I owe all of this to that petty little Evil God. Thanks to Her endless sabotage campaigns, I've been able to grow this fast.

Watching Her interference backfire into my advantage — what must that petty Evil God be thinking right now?

"Lady Aln!"

A girl's voice rang out along with a knock at the door, and I turned my head. Who on earth could it be at this hour? It's way past everyone's bedtime. And even if it weren't so late, nobody has any business visiting my dorm. Was someone here to prank me?

Tilting my head, I got up and opened the door — and there stood Vishy.

"Lady Aln!"

"What is it, Sidekick?"

"What is it?! I have nowhere else to turn! You're the only one I can ask!"

Help her with what?

When I blinked at the explanation-less plea that had tumbled out of her, Vishy fired off her story like a machine gun. It went like this:

Tonight, while she was talking with the ghost in the manor, the ghost had suddenly hidden her inside a wardrobe. Before long, a person — one that seemed painted entirely black — had broken into the house. The ghost fought the black figure with a strange power she'd never shown before, but was defeated in the end, and into the chest of the unconscious spirit, the black figure drove a stone stained a deep violet.

"The moment that stone pierced Adri's chest, a dungeon entrance opened up right there. And Adri vanished without a trace! She was definitely sucked inside that dungeon!"

As I listened to Vishy's account, only one thought surfaced in my mind.

Why is this happening NOW?

A dungeon spawning from the manor's ghost was an event that existed in the Soul Academy game too. As I've mentioned before, the one who creates dungeons in this world is the petty Evil God — Agra, the great lord of all evil gods, who spawns dungeons to sow chaos across the world.

This is Agra's unique authority, but at the same time it is an authority that can be portioned out to the other evil gods. The problem is that the evil gods who receive it can't create dungeons anywhere they please, the way Agra can. They're weaker than Agra, so they need an anchor — something with enough power or history to serve as the seed of a dungeon.

In that sense, the ghost of the haunted manor is a perfectly suitable wedge. She's lingered there since long ago, which grants her deep history, and she carries a grudge deep enough to make her an earthbound spirit.

But here's the thing — in the game, the dungeon born from that ghost's grudge appears during the second year at the Academy. An event that's supposed to happen a full year from now, when Agra's seal has weakened further. So why is it happening now?

"Please help me, Lady Aln. I'm begging you. Please save Adri from that dungeon. I'll do anything you ask. So please."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Watching Vishy, eyes rimmed red, tears dripping one by one, I sighed without meaning to. No amount of agonizing over why an event that shouldn't have happened did happen would change anything. What I needed to consider was something else entirely.

Do I help Vishy? Or do I turn her plea away?

If her request had simply been "please clear this dungeon," I'd have nodded without a second thought. I'd have barged in with Karl and Alsaetin like any other dungeon and smashed it to pieces, done deal.

But a dungeon created by an evil god other than Agra has a unique property that sets it apart from all the rest: solo conquest. You must enter alone and clear it by yourself. Which means every single thing that happens inside falls on me and me alone — even if some outrageous variable crops up and kills me.

Can't you just send Karl?

Believe me, I'd love to. But no dice. Never mind whether Karl is afraid of ghosts or not — there's a more fundamental problem. That dungeon's theme is spirits of the dead. Which means, just like when I faced that necromancer before, everything inside is completely immune to physical attacks. If Karl went in alone, he'd be nothing but a plaything for the ghosts. Clearing it would be flat-out impossible. It'd be a different story for someone like me, who can channel divinity through her mace.

Ugh.

Naturally, I know exactly what a dungeon built on a ghost's grudge looks like. I know perfectly well what monsters appear inside, how the paths wind, and what it takes to defeat the boss. Difficulty? In my current state, it's absolutely clearable. The place is tricky for two reasons: first, physical classes can't touch the monsters inside, and second, the curses and debuffs the spirits sling around are viciously annoying. But either way, I can handle both. With the ribbon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I gave her having eased part of the ghost's grudge, I'd even say it's more than doable now.

So why am I hesitating? For one reason and one reason only: I don't know what might happen in there. I have no way of knowing what that petty, cock-sucking Evil God might pull. Look — She's already pulled off an event that was never supposed to happen this early. And that dungeon is surely waiting for the moment I'm alone. Step inside, and I guarantee She'll intervene with everything She's got, teeth gritted, just to kill me.

Any sane person would refuse. This request is really asking me whether a single ghost should vanish — or whether I should get tangled up in it and dragged along as company for the dead.

No matter how pitiful the girl in front of me looks, the right move is to turn her down coldly.

"Lady Aln!"

I know. I know, okay?

Haah... damn it. Seriously. The word "no" just will not come out of my mouth.

Then — ding.

A sound rang out just as I was dragging a hand down my face, and I looked up. This isn't a dungeon, so there was only one person who could be messaging me. The useless Chief ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠God.

Huh...?

I'm sorry, what? A Dungeon Escape Ticket?

The one I'm thinking of, right?

Ha.

Hahahahaha.

...

Useless Chief God. Do you know something?

It's been a long time since I became your Apostle, but this is the FIRST time anything you've given me has ever felt like an actual gift. Why can't it always be like this, Lady Armadi?

So if I want to save her, I go. Is that it?

Fine. Understood. I'll go.

"Let's go, Vishy."

"Let's go, Sidekick."