The Hostage Gambit
A dungeon.
An unknown space that no academic knowledge of the modern age could begin to explain. It was said to arise naturally, without any particular cause or karma, and to connect to a third realm that had no business existing on the continent at all.
Countless scholars had devoted themselves to unraveling the secrets of dungeons, and the result of that labor was a once-in-an-era invention: the technology known as the subspace. Of course, that had only unlocked the tiniest sliver of the dungeon's mysteries. It was precisely because his power could conjure a kind of miniature dungeon — an ability so outlandish it bordered on the absurd — that Endolas Vaudeville had been chosen as one of the Ten Continental Mysteries.
Dungeons like this one were scattered across every corner of the continent, and according to Lorraine, there were actually people living inside them. These denizens controlled all comings and goings at the entrance through an inexplicable phenomenon known as the Blood Ring — anyone who approached without permission would have the blood throughout their body boil furiously until they died.
So absolute was that sealed isolation that no army or law enforcement could ever breach it, and as a result, the place had festered into a den of criminals, a bottomless pit of evil. The Alliance had turned a blind eye to it for some time, but word had recently spread that an extremely dangerous criminal had passed through the Blood Ring. The Alliance thereupon requested that Kizen dispatch a necromancer to lift the curse, and Silaje — the continent's foremost hemomancer — had gone. The Blood Ring had already shrunk to nearly half its size, with complete removal expected within the year.
Simon, who had been listening to Lorraine's story with great interest, threw out a question.
"So who's this extremely dangerous criminal supposed to be?"
Lorraine narrowed her eyes and smacked him on the forehead. Simon let out a yelp of pain and clutched his head.
"That's enough. Professor Silaje's mission itself is top secret. How much more do you expect her to spill before you're satisfied? What are you, an Alliance investigator?"
……
Fair point. Simon lowered the hand that had been cradling his forehead.
"So Professor Silaje will be back next year, then?"
"Probably. Of course, the choice belongs to Professor Walter, the current professor — but since Professor Silaje is his teacher, I imagine he'll step aside. He should return to campus next year."
Walter would vacate the Hemomancy professorship. Once Simon became a second-year, would that uneasy feeling in his gut finally come to an end? The mere thought of it brightened his mood, if only for a moment.
"Then can I ask you something……"
"Hm?"
Lorraine tilted her head slightly.
"I've got a question for you."
"M-me? Ask me anything!"
She hesitated for a moment, her gaze darting this way and that, before speaking in a very small voice.
"What do you think of Kizen's headquarters?"
……?
Out of nowhere, Kizen headquarters?
From Simon's standpoint, it was a question he had never seen coming. Her crimson eyes fixed on him, unblinking, as if waiting for his answer.
"C-can I be honest?"
"Yes. Be honest."
He had no idea what the question was driving at. She was Nephthys's daughter — did she want to know what the ordinary student body thought of them?
"I'm sure they work hard in their own way…… but from a student's point of view, they're a pack of troublemakers."
Simon decided to say plainly what he'd always felt. "Every time headquarters interferes with an exam, something goes wrong. It either becomes absurdly difficult, or it just gets weird. Honestly, the practical assessments that professors run themselves feel far more reliable."
In truth, that was what the overwhelming majority of Kizen students believed. Pleased at the thought that he'd spoken bluntly on behalf of every last one of them, Simon felt rather good about himself.
……
And then, belatedly, he caught Lorraine's expression and realized he'd given the wrong answer. She wasn't angry, or hurt, or anything of the sort.
She just looked… that's not it.
"Th-then what do you think about the Ivory Tower?"
Lorraine tried again, a faint trace of anxiety bleeding into her voice.
"……Never really thought about it."
He truly, honestly hadn't. Sure, its scion had once tried to claim his Legion Commander's seat, but that was all water under the bridge now. It was Meilin and Serne's homeland and power base — and that was about the whole of it.
But seeing Lorraine's expression darken with dissatisfaction, Simon hurriedly added, "W-well, I mean, the Ivory Tower's such an old, rigid organization that living in it sounds stiff and suffocating. I hear stories from Meilin now and then, and she always seems cooped up."
"!"
At last.
Lorraine's eyes lit up and sparkled.
"You really think so?"
"Yeah."
Fortunately, she seemed satisfied, and Simon breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
"Ah — enough talk about that. Let's focus on the game."
Lorraine nodded and glanced around the banquet hall.
"The Pig Princess still hasn't shown up, huh?"
"Looks that way."
This game ran on an extremely simple set of rules. The Knights protect the Pig Princess. The Assassins kill her.
Even while chatting with Lorraine, Simon had been observing the animals with meticulous care. This stretch of time, after all, belonged to the Knights — by striking up conversations with the animals and probing for anyone whose behavior rang false, they could gradually weed out the Assassins.
Every animal here was an actual character from the fairy tale Animal Kingdom. All he had to do was learn each character's personality and backstory, ask questions about them, and narrow the suspects down bit by bit.
Man, though, these assassin kids are good.
No matter how he looked, not a single animal leapt out at him. Sure, staying quiet to avoid mistakes might have made sense — but every one of them was moving around, chatting naturally with the others. The 'Grub Duck' character sat alone in a corner spacing out, but that was just its canonical role anyway.
Chances were both students playing the Assassins had the fairy tale memorized cover to cover.
This game is a battle of wits built on fairy-tale lore.
It would test the participants' judgment, deductive reasoning, and — as necromancers — their assassination skills. But all of that was still mere prelude. The real stage would begin the moment the Pig Princess appeared.
"Honored guests! Her Royal Highness, the Pig Princess, makes her entrance!"
And right on cue, the star of the show arrived.
Every animal rose from their seats. Simon and Lorraine stepped forward as well.
At the center of the banquet hall, from a luxurious staircase descending from the third floor, came a fat pig with a belly that jutted out conspicuously, waddling down step by labored step on two legs.
"Ohohoho! Thank you all for coming!"
The Pig Princess waved gracefully to the other animals. Flanking her were two dogs armed with weapons.
They won't attack outright here, at least.
Simon was already glancing backward, scanning the other animals. Killing the thick-necked Pig Princess in a single strike from a distance would be difficult. And the Assassins knew this fairy tale inside and out.
The most effective means of assassination: poison. There was a high chance they'd pull the poisons from Toxicology class out of their subspace and attempt a poisoning — for in the story, no one could ever stop the anorexic… rather, the notoriously picky Pig Princess when she decided to eat.
"Your Highness! Baron Steed pays his respects!"
"Ohohoho! And here I heard you were so busy!"
Several animals came to pay their respects. The Pig Princess, complaining that her weight made her legs wobble and her patience run thin, waddled straight to her seat — a sprawling spot reserved on a round sofa. She settled in, and the animals swarmed around her, vying to fawn.
"Ohohoho! Why, there are humans with adorable ears among us!"
The Pig Princess took an interest in Simon and Lorraine as well. "You two-legged walkers may have been let in, but next time we shall change the kingdom's laws! Animals who walk on two legs are superior. But humans are not!"
"What a splendid idea, Your Highness!"
"Ohohohoho!"
All of this, blissfully unaware that Simon and Lorraine were the very ones who meant to protect her from the assassins who wanted her dead.
A sigh escaped Simon, but it was simply how the story went.
To guard her up close, the textbook play is to first win the Pig Princess's favor.
Having actually read the fairy tale, Simon knew exactly what to say to get on the Pig Princess's good side.
- Click. Click.
He knew which words she loved, which foods she craved.
- Click. Click.
But the Assassins would interfere as they worked to win her over. And when they did, Simon could remember their words and match them against the characters' personalities — any remark that didn't fit the character, any line laced with outright malice, would make a fine suspect.
Fairy-tale common sense. A psychological duel built upon it.
All well and good.
But do we really have to play by the rules?
There was an easier way.
And that was —
Sshick!
"Step back, if you value the Princess's life."
Use Lorraine's strength.
Out of nowhere, Lorraine intervened and pressed a crimson dagger against the Pig Princess's throat.
"KYAAAAAAAAAAK!"
"P-P-Princess!"
The sudden hostage crisis sent the banquet hall's animals into a frenzy of commotion.
"What are you doing? Not backing down?"
Lorraine squeezed the Pig Princess's throat and nicked it lightly with the dagger. As blood came trickling down, the Pig Princess let out a squeal and burst into tears.
"Bleed! Bleeding! BLEEEED!"
The way Lorraine smiled at that moment — thin-lipped and cold — looked villainous even to Simon. Simon, too, drew a short sword from his subspace and leveled it at the Pig Princess's neck.
"Everyone, step back."
"These humans dare! Have they no gratitude for being admitted to this hall at all! What do they think they're doing to Her Highness!"
the dogs roared. The Pig Princess sobbed, dabbing at the blood streaming down her neck, and shrieked: "I said step back! Back up nooow! I'm dying, I'm gonna die! QUEEEEEK!"
At the Pig Princess's command, the animals swiftly withdrew. Simon found himself genuinely wondering, for the first time, what expressions the Assassins were wearing right now.
As long as one of the Assassins is in there — and above all, as long as poisoning is a risk — the paradoxically most perfect way to protect the Pig Princess is a hostage standoff.
The positions had been flipped. Simon's gaze lifted upward.
Hold out for thirty minutes.
The timer had started the moment the Pig Princess made her entrance. Two minutes had elapsed.
Come on out.
Simon opened his subspace and sent the Skeletons pouring out. Lorraine, reading the play, dispatched Skeletons of her own to ring the Pig Princess.
"A m-monster!"
Shocked, the animals could do nothing but stamp and flail in place.
Simon spoke. "Reckless moves will only get the Princess hurt. We have one demand: everyone here leaves the mansion. Comply, and the Princess's life will be spared."
"You d-dastardly humans!"
"We knew they should never have been admitted to the banquet!"
At those words, Lorraine lightly slit the Pig Princess's skin with her dagger. As a bead of blood welled up, the Pig Princess rolled her eyes back and screamed.
"I said leave the mansion! Hurry! Hurry! HURRY!"
Her command given, the animals began shuffling backward in a panic.
But one animal was stubbornly holding its ground — a sheep, its wool bristling out through the gaps of its suit.
"W-wait, everyone!"
The sheep's voice trembled violently. "If we all leave the mansion, the Pig Princess will be in more danger! Who knows what those humans will do to her once we're gone!"
The corners of Simon's mouth curled upward.
Working hard, aren't you, Assassin?
After all, if every animal left the mansion, the chance to assassinate anyone would vanish entirely.
Slick.
At that moment, Lorraine moved her dagger and nicked the Pig Princess's chin.
"Still dithering? Shall I show you what happens next?"
Simon shot her a signal to calm down a little.
Why does she seem to be having so much fun?
"QUEEEEEEK! Get out, now! Everyone out before you provoke them, GO!"
As the Pig Princess shrieked herself into repeated convulsions, a fox in a formal suit grabbed the sheep by the arm. "Relax. Okay? Look at that human girl's eyes. Those are stone-cold eyes."
"……Haaah, no, seriously."
The sheep smacked the fox's arm away, then stomped hard against the floor.
Thud-thud-thud-THUD!
Then, with jet-black roaring to life all across its body, it came charging.
"!"
Its massive bulk knocked the surrounding Skeletons aside as it bore down on Lorraine — and just as it drove a fist toward her —
BOOM!
Simon's body flickered into its path and launched a kick.
"About time you showed your true colors, Assassin."
"Kgh!"
Having absorbed the blow by the narrowest of margins, the sheep slid backward and dropped to one knee.
"Lorraine, I'll take the rear."
"Okay."
Tap.
Before he knew it, a cat that had been scaling the ceiling was dropping down toward the Pig Princess. Lorraine moved to intercept it.
Sshick!
Slick!
Simon set his Skeletons in motion, had their blades leveled at the Pig Princess's throat so she couldn't run, and turned to face the sheep-assassin himself.
"Damn it!"
Wham! Wham!
The suited sheep swung its fists with savage force.
"Are you kidding me, you lunatics?! Since when do the Knights kidnap the Princess?! Isn't this a rules violation?!"
"I simply chose the most rational option."
Simon ducked under a punch and coiled jet-black around his right hand.
But at that very moment, jet-black was coiling around the sheep's right hand as well.
CLANG!!
The two fixed blades collided in midair with a screeching roar, as if the air itself were being torn apart. The shockwave sent plates and cups tumbling to the floor, where they shattered.
"KRAAAGH!"
The sheep immediately wrapped its left fist in a fixed blade as well and swung it. Even in a borrowed beast's body, it handled the technique remarkably well — a Magic Combat major, no doubt.
Then let's use that big frame against it.
Simon bored in tight against the sheep's body and slipped past its flank. Dodging the swinging fist, he brought his palm to rest lightly against its waist — barely a touch.
Even if it isn't finished yet!
A candle flame flickered up in Simon's mind. The moment he'd snuffed it out — the moment he'd released jet-black — that very technique.
As his palm brushed along the sheep's body, it rippled with jet-black.
Simon extended his arm straight and shoved hard with his palm. The explosive power of jet-black crackled as it spread outward in a perfect ring.
BOOOOOM!
"Kuhk—!"
Spittle sprayed from the sheep's mouth. Its massive body took the full brunt of the impact and lifted off the ground.
I did it! It works in actual combat too!
A smile bloomed across Simon's face, brimming with hard-won achievement.