The Saint and the Witch's Daughter
Tap. Tap.
It was a pleasant morning, the air fresh and light. Simon, singled out by Lethe, was walking side by side with her along the park path.
"......So this is how it turns out."
"Is that a complaint?"
Lethe said curtly. Simon hurriedly waved his hands.
"No, no, it's not a complaint. It's just — wouldn't it be safer to tour the island from inside an agent-guarded carriage?"
"I told you, didn't I? There's no Ever Kire on this island."
She replied in her trademark cynical voice, slipping her hands into the pockets of her robe.
"You necromancers seem completely incapable of trusting my Starfall, so I grudgingly agreed to this patrol. And if I'm doing a patrol anyway, isn't it only fair that I get to pick the method?"
"Fine, I get it. But are you okay with your face being seen?"
Lethe was wearing the adventurer's outfit she'd had on when they first met, with only the robe's hood drawn up to half-hide her face.
"Don't you worry, I've got an artifact on that interferes with facial recognition."
With that, she held up a festival map.
"So with that settled, please take good care of me, guide."
"I'll do my best. Where should we start?"
"Well, nominally this is a patrol to hunt down a fanatic, so we ought to focus on the crowded spots, don't you think?"
Lethe tapped a few places on the map.
"The food-stall plaza, the coastline... oh. Club booths sound fun."
"......Didn't you just say we should stick to the crowded places?"
Simon leaned in close and pointed at the map in her hands.
"The most crowded place at this hour is the stadium, obviously! There's a place called Ringcastle Stadium right nearby. Want to head there first?"
"......"
Lethe stopped walking and stared at him dead in the eyes.
"What?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
She let out a small sigh and gave her head a little shake.
"Lead the way, then."
"Sure."
The two walked toward the stadium, trading idle chatter as they went. The necromancer agents were presumably watching from far off — no presence could be felt anywhere — so they were able to move around fairly freely.
"Hey! Simon!"
"Simon~"
Then a familiar voice rang out. Mayrin and Camibarez were running toward them.
"Mayrin! Kami!"
"Why have you been ignoring every message, you blockhead!"
The moment Mayrin arrived, she erupted like a volcano.
"Where do you find time to slack off on the Student Council? Do you have any idea how many incidents have broken out?"
"S-sorry."
Simon apologized first, then added,
"I've had some things to take care of too."
"A guy with things to take care of, he says—!"
Mid-sentence, Mayrin noticed Lethe standing quietly at Simon's side.
"Who's this?"
"Ah, let me introduce you."
So this moment came fast after all.
He had to introduce his necromancer friends to Lethe, starting now. Feeling tension wash over him all at once, Simon laid out the story he'd prepared in advance.
"This is Lena. A friend who lived in my hometown, Leshill. She came to see the Dark Festival and we ran into each other by chance. It's her first time on Roke Island, so I'm showing her around the school."
The hometown-friend routine.
Clichéd as it was, it was the best story a mountain boy who'd spent nearly seventeen years of his life in the woods could squeeze out. And "Lena" was the alias she herself had used back when they went to the Holy Federation.
"And these are my classmates and Student Council members — Mayrin Villenne and Camibarez Ursula."
After introducing the two, Simon stole a glance at Lethe.
He hadn't dared hope they'd get along. He'd been more worried she might openly bare her disgust for necromancers, like on her first visit to Roke Island.
"It's a pleasure to meet you."
Contrary to his fears, Lethe bowed her head politely. Lifting her gray hair as she straightened up, she even offered a soft, smiling look.
"My name is Lena."
"Hi there!"
At the appearance of a girl her own age she'd never met, Mayrin greeted her with a bright, lively voice.
"I'm Mayrin, Kizen's Vice President. If you're a friend of Simon's, feel free to talk casual."
"Thank you."
"And I'm Camibarez Ursula, the council secretary!"
"It's an honor to meet you both."
"You're so pretty! Where did you get your hair done?"
"You're beautiful yourself, Mayrin. I had my hair done in a city we stopped at before coming to the Dark Festival. Seeing you now, I find myself wanting to grow mine out too."
"Really?"
Somewhere along the way, those two had started clicking.
Right where they stood, they launched into a nonstop flurry of girlish chatter.
"So what's your relationship with Simon?"
"We're friends. Childhood friends from home."
"Ohh~ childhood friends."
"Yes. I've known Simon since we were little, and then one day he just up and left to become a necromancer, so I worried a great deal. But seeing how he's made Student Council President now, I'm glad. Please take good care of him."
"Oh my — why would you be telling me to take good care of him?"
"Because you're the Vice President. I mean it as a request to look after your President well."
"Ahhah! That's what you meant? I see."
"Yes."
Simon took a step back, his face stiff with tension.
What is this.
It was perfectly ordinary conversation. Both of them were smiling. So why did it feel like some strange current was crackling between the two of them?
"Lena, is this your first Dark Festival?"
Just then Camibarez piped up, her ears perking up. Lethe quickly switched her gaze over.
"Yes, it's my first time."
"Then you absolutely have to check out the food-stall plaza! The pudding and the carrot cake are delicious!"
"Oh — thank you for telling me."
Camibarez sidled up next to Lethe and began chattering out one recommendation after another — a student councilor dutifully performing her duties.
Lethe watched her quietly for a moment, then said,
"This may be rude to say to a noblewoman, but..."
"?"
"You're adorable."
Camibarez's face flushed crimson in an instant.
"Ah— um. Th-thank you."
Watching Camibarez squirm in embarrassment, Lethe wore a satisfied little smile.
She hadn't made it obvious, but Lethe liked cute things too. Things between her and Camibarez looked to be on excellent footing.
"Oh, and the night view along this coastline is beautiful!"
"That's not the best spot for the night view, though?"
Mayrin cut in abruptly.
"The hillside next to the teleport circle is."
"The night view is fine there, I think."
Lethe said with a faint smile.
"It's the one Simon showed me yesterday."
"!!"
Mayrin whipped her head around, flames kindling in her eyes as she glared at Simon. Camibarez, too, seemed to find it hard to ignore, sneaking glances at him from the corner of her eye.
BOOM!
Just then, a small explosion sounded from the nearby park. Mayrin and Camibarez flinched in surprise, but reflexively summoned Jet-Black to their legs.
"Mayrin! We have to hurry!"
"Right."
"What's going on?"
Simon asked quickly.
"We got a report that students from the same department started brawling — we were on our way to break it up!"
"Sorry! We'll go on ahead!"
The two of them kicked off the Jet-Black and bounded across the park.
The once-raucous surroundings fell silent in an instant.
"Should we not go help them?"
Lethe, who had already slipped back into her usual calm air, spoke with her hands tucked into her robe pockets.
"No. With those two's skills, it'll be fine."
Soon enough they could see ice shards flying and blood spraying, followed by Mayrin's shrill scream — 'Why won't you stop, you little punks!' — ringing across the park. Right after that, the commotion died down completely.
"Hm."
Lethe crossed her arms and wore a peculiar smile.
"Not bad. I'd like to face them on a battlefield someday."
"......Don't say scary things. That's exactly the kind of thing we're here to prevent — we came to stop a war, remember?"
"Yes, let's go."
Lethe said, walking ahead.
"To protect world peace."
Ringcastle Stadium was in the middle of the third-years' matches, and the packed stands roared with deafening cheers. Here and there, uncles seated in the front rows were gulping down beer and laughing loudly, and tiny bits of food littered every corner of the grounds — the lowly undead cleaners were bowing under the strain.
"Pardon me for a moment."
Simon was combing the stadium's every nook and cranny, carefully searching for any trace of Ever Kire.
I hope Agent Aleister's side turns up something.
Despite the extreme manpower shortage, the independent investigation run solely by Nephthys's inner circle was progressing quickly. They were tracking Ever Kire's trail from the harbor; signs of battles large and small had been discovered as well, but since Ever Kire kept distorting reality as she fled, conventional investigative methods seemed to be struggling.
And yet.
......Is the one who actually left the island really Ever Kire herself?
The results of Lethe's Starfall, Aleister's investigation — every piece of circumstantial evidence pointed to Ever Kire having slipped off Roke Island.
But Simon felt an uneasy itch he couldn't scratch. The enemy was a user of reality-warping power, which meant he had to keep every possibility on the table. It was far too early to let his guard down — that was Simon's judgment.
Phew.
Having swept the surrounding area, Simon's gaze drifted for a moment into the stadium itself.
So I end up watching it here after all.
Rank 2 of the entire third year — Ballack.
A man in an iron mask, spewing poisonous fumes from his mouth. His body was wrapped in a thick, coat-like garment that swallowed him so completely that his uniform was nowhere to be seen.
Even now, the sight of him carving a lone path through the crowd of students was visible below.
Ballack Original — Poison Fang.
Ripples of poison spread outward from where he stood, sweeping the students away in a single wave. Jet-Black shields, defensive magic — it made no difference. His overwhelming power uniformly dropped every barrier gauge to zero and teleported its victims out of the stadium.
"Ughhak!"
"That startled me!"
As the rolling cloud of poison approached the stands, the spectators nearest it flinched backward. An invisible barrier protected the stands, but the way it crackled and flickered — hissing, tss-tssss — at the poison's touch made it seem like it might not hold for long.
Wherever he walked, poison wells overflowed and poison blossoms bloomed. Students clutched their throats in agony before pressing their own forfeit buttons and leaving the field. In mere moments, the arena had turned into a land of death.
— Th-this match is supposed to be scored by putting balls through the goal, but......
The announcer said, his voice dazed.
— Aside from Ballack, no students remain in the stadium. It appears continuing the match is impossible. Ah — the referee has just declared the match over! The final victor is the Department of Toxicology!
Forget the rules — he just ended the match like that.
Simon let out an awkward laugh as he watched.
......Incredible. Could our own Leonard-senpai actually beat that guy?
And then one more question followed on its heels.
If Rank 2 was this strong — how powerful was Rank 1, Eisel?
When Eisel returned, Simon would have to fight him for the Student Council President's seat.
"Is this a good time to be lazing about watching matches?"
The voice cut into his thoughts unbidden. Lethe had sidled up beside him and was eyeing him sourly; Simon snapped back to himself and smiled.
"How was it?"
"I don't sense any divine reactions in this stadium."
She added with a shrug.
"I doubt the other stadiums will be any different."
"Good work. Let's move on to the next spot."
"Yes."
Lethe stared into the stadium for a moment, then said,
"By the way — do you compete in matches like that yourself?"
"Of course. I signed up for at least one match a day. Interested?"
"Oh."
Lethe crossed her arms with an enigmatic smile.
"Sounds fun. I absolutely must see that match."
"Haha, that's a little embarrassing."
While the two were chatting, Simon spotted a familiar face nearby.
Hair black as a painted night sky, rippling in the breeze. And eyes red as rubies.
Overjoyed, the word left Simon's mouth before he could stop it.
"Lo—!"
Whish.
At that moment, Simon's view was blocked. Lethe had grabbed him and hidden him behind her.
"What's wrong?"
"That person."
Lethe's expression had gone deathly rigid, as if wound to the point of snapping.
"Something about her is wrong. We need to be careful—"
"Oh, Simon!"
Just then, the girl noticed him too and came over.
"Did you come to cheer on the third-year seniors as well?"
As she said it, Lorraine's head turned.
"And next to you is...... who?"
"......"
The two didn't seem to know each other. And yet both of their expressions twisted in the same strange way.
The young Saintess — and the Witch's daughter.
Had come face to face at the stadium.