Welcome, Guardians of Aon

Everything was pitch black.

With the sensation of the ground vanishing beneath his feet and dropping away into the darkness, Simon felt a rush of vertigo and a pounding headache.

Ten minutes had already passed since he entered the card. How much longer was this darkness going to last?

'!'

A new message had finally appeared. It seemed the siege team had all entered as well.

Becoming a "Guardian" was all well and good, but for Simon, the most pressing question was when this nauseating ordeal would finally come to an end.

"What took you so long?"

Just then, a hand shot out of the pitch-black darkness.

That white, slender hand seized Simon's and pulled.

"This way, idiot."

In the darkness, he could see sky-blue hair whipping in the wind.

As if in a trance, Simon grasped the hand and tumbled over to the other side.

Vwoooooosh!

Blinding sunlight beat against his retinas and a cold wind tousled his hair.

The first thing Simon saw after escaping the darkness was a beautiful girl with hair the same color as the sky spread out around her.

"Let's go, Simon!"

Meilyn said, blinking her eyes. Beside her, encased in a water droplet, Dick was laughing loudly with his hands behind his head — Wahaha!

"You were the fifteenth! Cutting it close, but in the end the flare-signal strategy was a total success!"

Looking around, Simon could see other students each wrapped in transparent droplets.

Fifteen in all, including Simon himself.

Every one of them was on the Defense Team.

"Move out!"

The droplets shattered, and fifteen boys and girls began free-falling.

Simon's eyes went wide. The scene spreading out below him was a massive castle rising like a tower.

The very castle Rick had sketched on the blackboard stood spread out before him in its complete form.

Simon let out an involuntary gasp of admiration, then burst into a good-natured haha!

"You're still just a kid, huh."

Meilyn let out a small laugh.

Before long, the falling speed slowed, and all fifteen members of the Defense Team touched down at the top of the castle. It smelled of old brick, and every now and then, something like gunpowder drifted past on the air.

Signs of life could be felt here and there, but the surroundings were strangely quiet. It was hard to believe a battle would soon erupt in this place.

'Come to think of it, the residents of this world aren't human.'

They were all beastmen — "rat people" with mouse ears and tails. Of course, they were nothing like monsters such as ratmen.

'Endolas Vaudeville really does have a thing for animals, doesn't he.'

Even the fully grown adults of this species only came up to about Simon's waist. The weapons they carried were short, and the houses they lived in were small. The people were running about the castle interior with tense faces.

A soldier dropping a quiver of arrows and getting chewed out by a superior, a boy soldier writing one last letter to someone, an old man with grease stains smeared all over his face —

Every tiny scene was rendered in meticulous, living detail.

These overwhelmingly realistic tableaus made Simon feel as though ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he had truly been dropped into the heart of a battlefield.

"Oh, Carrot!"

"Missy! Long time no see!"

Meanwhile, the students were exchanging friendly greetings with acquaintances. Simon was glancing around to see if he happened to know anyone, and then —

"Ah!"

There was exactly one. A familiar face wearing glasses.

"Fitzgerald!"

It was Fitzgerald, his fellow member of the Mutant club.

Even amid all this chaos, he had a book in one hand — a textbook display of his addiction to the written word.

"Simon."

He snapped shut the book in his hand, A Little Orb Hurler Cast His Vain Pride Into the Sky, and walked over. The two shook hands lightly.

"Good to see you! We're on the same team, luckily enough?"

"Yeah."

Meilyn, who knew no one around her, stood with her hands behind her back and hovered at Simon's side, peering curiously.

"A friend of yours?"

"Yeah."

Simon stepped back a pace and introduced the two of them.

"This is Meilyn Villenne — she's with the Ivory Tower. And this is Fitzgerald. His family name is..."

"Ingels."

At Fitzgerald's curt reply, Meilyn's eyes widened.

"Ingels? The House of Ingels?"

Judging by her reaction, it must be a prestigious family. The two clasped hands with dignified grace.

"A properly pedigreed house for once."

"Says the Villenne of the Ivory Tower."

As the two children of high nobility clasped hands, Dick shouldered his way in from the side.

"Pleased to meet you! Name's Rick Hayward!"

Meilyn scrunched up her face.

"You sit this one out, commoner. You're dragging the class of the whole circle down."

"That's rich coming from you, Lady Noble — you get food dribbling down your chin just like anyone else when you eat."

"I do not!!"

Just as the students were trading jokes and easing the tension, the doors of the Royal Palace swung open, and a bald man in armor appeared.

He was, of course, a rat beastman like everyone else here.

"Chit-chit! Guardians! We've been waiting for you!"

Rick raised his hand and gave a cheerful greeting.

"Whoa! Mr. Yomong! Hello there!"

It was practically how you'd greet the guy who ran the neighborhood shop. The man called Yomong's eyes went wide.

"Chi-chit? We haven't even been introduced yet. How do you know my name—"

"Oh! Did I not mention? I'm actually a psychic! I can read minds. Shall I recite your next line for you?"

Rick bowed politely and said:

"Chit-chit! His Majesty awaits the Guardians. Please, follow me into the palace."

"!! N-No. How on earth—!"

Meilyn grabbed Dick by the ear.

"Quit being gross, dammit!"

"Ow! Aaagh! My ear's coming off!"

Watching the two of them bicker, Fitzgerald blinked.

"Are they fighting?"

Simon smiled wryly.

"...That's pretty much always the vibe in our group."

After a bit of minor commotion, the fifteen students were safely ushered into the Royal Palace under Yomong's guidance.

It was suitably vast for a kingdom's palace — the central hall alone could easily hold several thousand beastmen.

'There are civilians inside the palace too.'

Women and children could be seen scurrying along. Food distributions were underway in various corners.

"Chit. This way, please."

And seated upon the throne of this immense palace was a beastman with a kind, dignified ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠countenance. Like the other residents, he had mouse ears, and atop them sat a crown.

"Chit-chit! Welcome, righteous Guardians!"

The king rose from his throne and greeted them in a booming voice. The civilians who had been receiving rations also turned and sent up cheers.

"Your coming was foretold in prophecy! Every subject of this kingdom has been waiting for you!"

The "Guardians" that kept being mentioned were, in the story's framing, heroes from another world sent by the creator deity whom the beastmen worshipped.

That framing granted the Guardians full legitimate command authority over the soldiers in the king's name. Every soldier, it was said, would follow the Guardians without question.

Though Simon's ears were on the king's words, his eyes kept drifting to the civilians. They were receiving their rations and then filing behind the wall that held the throne.

Meilyn must have been curious as well, because she raised her hand.

"Your Majesty. Why are the civilians inside the palace?"

"Chit-chit! I shall show you myself!"

The king led the students around behind the throne.

Uggle uggle uggle uggle!

Behind the throne lay an underground cavern of black rock, and inside it, crowds of elderly people, women, and children had gathered.

"This is the Obsidian Cavern. Chit-chit."

The king explained in person, kindly.

"It has existed since before this kingdom was founded. The reason Castle Aon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is so steep and towering is because it was built atop the mountain range and this obsidian mine."

So deep and vast was the cavern that its bottom could not be seen. On level after level, civilians sat huddled together.

Simon walked over alone and rapped the rock a few times with the back of his hand.

"Is it safe in here? It looks like it could collapse if a battle breaks out."

"Chit-chit. Have no fear. The obsidian mine is extraordinarily resistant to outside impacts — the safest place in this kingdom. Even if the entire castle were to come crashing down, the interior of the mine would remain untouched."

Simon nodded. He didn't know what the lore for obsidian was in this world, but in the real one, obsidian was famous as an extremely hard mineral.

This time, a different student raised a hand.

"What if the enemy kingdom invades the mine and comes up into the kingdom?"

"Chit-chit. No need to worry about that! The only entrance to the mine is right here — the Royal Palace at the very peak of the castle. That is precisely why I have gathered the civilians into the mine."

The king laid a hand over his chest and spoke with solemn gravity.

"I intend to die on this throne. I will never, ever shield myself behind my people's lives."

"...Your Majesty."

Meilyn's expression softened with genuine emotion. Dick thrust his thumb skyward.

"And you don't even need to worry about those bastards making it this far!"

"Chit! Of course not. Within a matter of hours, the wicked Kingdom of Kahl will attack. They come pillaging and ravaging our territory as they advance. All that remains to them is this capital. Every subject of this kingdom stands ready to fight, resolved to die."

The king continued, his face hard as he looked at the students.

"Please, lead our soldiers and hold back the enemy. If we can endure just one day — no, half a day — reinforcements will arrive! Chit-chit!"

Dick, speaking for the group, thumped his chest.

"You can count on us!"

A disparity in troop strength is absolute.

Two thousand against twenty thousand.

A tenfold difference in military power.

True, this side had a castle — but as anyone could tell with a single sweeping glance, this old, worn-down fortress was far from a solid stronghold.

Because it had been built by the small limbs of rat beastmen, the castle itself was small, the gates were tattered, and the walls were low. To the rat beastmen, the wall height was probably just right — but for necromancers, it would be easy enough to scale using Jet-Black.

The setup was all but guaranteed to put the defenders at a disadvantage — but time, at least, was on the defenders' side.

Dick, who had played through the siege theme repeatedly, had experienced both a Kingdom of Aon victory and a Kingdom of Kahl victory, and he'd said the outcome followed a fixed pattern.

If the defenders held out desperately until the Kingdom of Aon's reinforcements arrived, the defense side won. If the castle fell and the king died before that happened, the Kingdom of Kahl won.

"Alright, let's split up here!"

The students left the Royal Palace, agreed to quickly scout the castle grounds and check key points, and to reconvene in two hours.

"Every single game, the castle layout, the supplies, the food stores — it all changes. You have to check constantly."

Sometimes there would be a massive trebuchet; other times, gate-reinforcing solution or moving defensive towers or winged horses would be available.

Simon decided to scout the castle alone. Dick agreed and pointed out the checkpoints for him. Head down from the palace and check the walls, and along the way, take a look at the supply warehouse.

Simon descended the castle stairs alone, looking around at everything.

Built atop the mine and the mountain range, the castle offered a vertiginous view of the ground below, and the slope was no joke.

Great for the defenders, but at this grade, wouldn't plenty of people have fallen to their deaths just going about daily life?

'Ah, found it! The supply warehouse.'

Simon found the key checkpoint without difficulty and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stepped inside.

Dick had said everything in here came down to how you used it. Simon rummaged around to see what might be useful.

"Sir, what's this?"

Simon held up a black sphere from a crate that looked something like a tree nut. The warehouse keeper looked at it and said:

"Oil Fruit, Guardian! They're filled with vegetable oil inside, so crack one open and light it, and it burns beautifully. You're welcome to take whatever's left!"

"I see."

Simon smiled as he tucked them into his subspace.

'This batch of Skeleton Mages should go fire-attribute.'

It had been almost a week since he'd created his first Skeleton Mage — nearly enough time to reach the third BMAT.

In the interim, Simon's summoning magic had improved by leaps and bounds.

"All of you, come out."

A subspace opened, and eight Skeleton Mages prostrated themselves before Simon.

Simon unfurled a magic circle.

Vmmm!

The first magic circle.

Vmmm! Vmmm! Vmmm!

The second, third, and fourth magic circles.

Moving his fingers, Simon skillfully manipulated the circles suspended in the air. Each one was outputting a different set of values before him.

Simon Original — The Magive System

Its model, of course, was the Magisté System he'd seen in his Summoning class.

Before long, Cloud flowed out from Simon's body, stretching out like connecting wires to link the central magic circle with the skulls of the eight Skeleton Mages.

The currently registered spell on the Skeleton Mages was Jet-Black Ice magic's Cold Bolt.

"Switching to Jet-Black Flame magic's Dark Blaze."

As Simon manipulated the central magic circle, the magic circles inscribed in the Skeleton Mages' skulls began to change in unison.

Changing a Skeleton Mage's registered spell was normally an extraordinarily delicate task — but Simon had Cloud. Using it, he could simply overlay the central circle's configuration onto the Skeleton Mages.

Vuuuum!

"Application complete."

Simon retracted the magic circle and the Cloud. He decided to test just one of them as a representative.

"Dark Blaze."

Fwaaaash!

A magic circle unfolded on the staff raised by the Skeleton Mage he'd arbitrarily chosen, and flames flickered to life above it.

Simon nodded in satisfaction.

"Good. Let's go."

Fwaaash! Chik! Chik!

Simon strode out front, and the staff-wielding undead mages followed in his wake.

The beastman soldiers who saw them began to murmur.

"...S-S-Scary, chit."

"Chit-chit! Still, thank goodness the Guardians are on our side."

Simon, careful not to startle them too badly, had the Skeleton Mages march along in orderly file.

'Well, since it's come to this.'

He gazed at the castle as if steeling his resolve.

'I'm going to make absolutely sure the Kingdom of Aon wins — and claim the grand prize while I'm at it.'