Until We Forge Our Own Heroes

The academy was swallowed by a massive uproar. Three students had vanished without a trace.

X, notorious as a weed that refused to die. Elia, whose genius was already legend. And Hilde Borson, daughter of a merchant tycoon.

The circumstances of the incident were brought to light by Circe.

"It was a demon attack."

She gave her answer before the Chairman, the Headmaster, every instructor present, and Darius. The room held its breath.

There was no concealing anything. Least of all in front of the forty-two magical artifacts Darius had brought with him.

"Explain. Precisely. Leave nothing out. All of it."

Darius's command was more severe than anyone else's in the room. Last time there had been no victims, and the birth of a Hero had been enough to bury the matter quietly. This time was different. There were actual victims now, and one of them was Hilde Borson — daughter of a merchant tycoon who commanded both political influence and enormous wealth.

"Is my daughter safe? What kind of demon attacked my girl? Tell me this instant!"

Hilde Borson's father, the merchant tycoon Gurten Borson, howled in a voice thick with despair and rage. Everyone present felt the rawness of his grief. She was his only child. He would have given every coin he owned just to know that she was safe.

After a long hesitation, Circe answered.

"The demon that attacked us was..."

You might as well change your epithet~ Not the Demon of Mimicry — the Demon of Space, maybe.

"...Hilde Borson."

Every last magical artifact judged Circe's words to be the truth.

Gurten Borson wailed in a voice that no longer sounded human.

Several people gathered in the Chairman's office at the academy. The Chairman, the Headmaster, Darius and Milia, and Beatrice. They began their discussion of the disappearances.

Darius spoke first, in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Cancel every academic course and every scheduled event. The suspension lasts until every last demon that has infiltrated the Empire has been rooted out. I don't care if it takes years."

The other three were aghast at such a drastic pronouncement.

"Notify every student's parents. The students will be detained for the time being and subjected to a thorough examination to determine whether or not they are demons. There will be no exceptions — not even for Leon, the Chosen One."

Darius shot Beatrice a look of pure ice.

"Furthermore, the princess and I will be the first to undergo that examination. Anyone who so much as opens their mouth about this matter will be sentenced on the spot. Make that thoroughly understood."

The Headmaster broke into a cold sweat at the severity of the decision.

"Y-Your Highness, isn't that going too far..."

"Too far? Three students are missing, and there is testimony that one of them is a demon. Unless every artifact I brought happened to malfunction at the exact same instant, then yes — she really is a demon."

"But you must consider the possibility that she was mistaken..."

"Headmaster. Listen carefully."

Darius fixed the Headmaster with a glare that could have drawn blood.

"If she was not mistaken, you are next."

The Headmaster understood the meaning perfectly, and simply bowed his head. This was the decision of the Crown Prince, the highest power in the Empire as it now stood. He had the appearance of a demon and the disappearance of students as his justification. No one was in a position to raise an objection.

"This is not a matter that concerns us alone."

There was, however, someone for whom that decision could not be allowed to stand. Darius turned a frigid gaze on Beatrice, who had just spoken.

"What ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is that supposed to mean, Princess."

"The approaching Grand Feast Day is not a schedule that may be cancelled by imperial decision alone. It is a matter that requires sufficient discussion with the Holy Kingdom. This deliberation ought to be conducted in the presence of a Holy Kingdom representative."

Beatrice could not afford to let the Grand Feast Day or the tournament be cancelled. Countless plans were bound up in those events. If this opportunity slipped away, there was no telling how long she would have to wait for another.

Darius's eyes narrowed. He had a fair idea of what she was after.

"Since when have we needed to worry about the Holy Kingdom's opinion? This is not some precious ceremony worth enduring a demonic invasion and an assault for. His Majesty the Emperor would have made the same decision."

"But His Majesty the Emperor is in no position to offer an opinion, is he?"

The Chairman's office went cold as a tomb. That single sentence was lèse-majesté itself. Had she not been the Imperial Princess, a corpse would have been made on the spot. Beatrice, who had spoken those words, merely covered her mouth and laughed.

"Why such heat? The decision is ours to make. Is it not rather presumptuous — and deeply improper — to so freely conjecture His Majesty's will?"

"Watch your tongue, Princess. The Sword of the Empire is in this room."

Milia, a 7-star warrior, quietly unleashed her presence. If the order came, she was fully prepared to take Princess Beatrice's head without the slightest hesitation. She had heard as much from X, and the person standing before her no longer looked like a princess at all.

Darius felt the same. He was half-mad with the urge to take her head in a single stroke and spike it above the city gates.

The moment to reverse everything will come.

"...This discussion has grown overheated. We'll take a short recess."

But he held himself in check. That damned brat being among the missing this time was already enough to drive him out of his mind. Losing his temper over this would accomplish nothing.

While the Headmaster fidgeted and mopped at his cold sweat, the atmosphere in the room slowly settled. And when it had settled enough, the Chairman opened his mouth for the first time.

"As Chairman, I will speak on behalf of the academy."

Tension was written plainly across his face, but his voice remained even.

"First: the academy will continue to operate as normal. The Grand Feast Day will proceed as planned. There will also be no comprehensive examination of the entire student body."

It was a remarkably bold statement — a direct contradiction of Darius's orders.

"Chairman. Do you understand the situation we are in."

Darius's gaze stabbed into him like a blade. The Chairman did not flinch.

"The news that students have gone missing within the academy is truly heartbreaking. But shutting down the academy's operations entirely on that account is something I cannot accept."

"I said it was to root out demons. How many more victims do you intend to wait for before you suspend operations? Until every last student at the academy is dead?"

"Your Highness. We don't even have confirmation that the missing students are deceased. If we thrash about too conspicuously in a crisis like this, we will only deepen the Empire's unrest."

"...If you're going to go that far, you must have something in mind."

Darius had read the Chairman's intent. He reined in the fury boiling in his chest and waited for an answer. The Chairman calmly opened both hands.

"We cannot stop rumors from spreading through the academy. Anxiety will certainly grow. So I have two proposals. The first is to accept support from the Holy Kingdom."

"A fine idea."

Beatrice covered her mouth and smiled. Darius ground his teeth once and endured it.

"What kind of support, exactly. Be precise."

"I intend to invite Heresy Inquisitors as special professors."

Darius's and the Headmaster's eyes both went wide. Heresy Inquisitors were the judges who carried out the Church's punishments — beings blessed with the power to pierce through truth and essence, and political heavyweights who wielded enormous influence within the clergy. No one could casually defy an Inquisitor's word, least of all in an empire where the Church of Deusrute was the state religion.

"Chairman. That joke has gone too far."

Bringing Holy Kingdom Inquisitors here would be a blatant surrender of the imperial family's influence over the academy. The Chairman was, in effect, declaring that he would stand with the Holy Kingdom — not the imperial family, and not the nobility.

"If you're doing this because the imperial subsidies were cut five years ago, you've made the wrong choice. The one who has looked the other way while the academy ran itself like an extraterritorial zone is the imperial family. You do realize that."

"Of course, Your Highness. I also realize that if even that administration turns against the academy, our operations will be in jeopardy. The academy would have to close its doors. However."

The Chairman opened his hands once more, revealing a second method. In his right hand, Internal Energy. In his left, Mana.

Every pair of eyes in the room flooded with shock. The Chairman carefully allowed himself a smile of victory.

"A new curriculum will be introduced. A course in the Dual Use of Mana and Internal Energy. It will be available only at Elion Academy."

He laced his fingers together and made his declaration.

The Chairman's office fell silent once more. Darius had nothing left to argue. If it was truly possible to wield Internal Energy and Mana simultaneously through education, then the damage from imperial pressure would be nonexistent. Collusion between Beatrice and the Holy Kingdom already appeared to be in place. Even if they shut the academy down, taking that technique to the Holy Kingdom would be a colossal loss for the Empire. Threatening them into handing the technique over would be even more pointless — they would flee before it came to that.

And besides...

...That should be enough.

"...That's as far as today's discussion goes."

Darius declared his surrender. At that, Beatrice offered a careful smile.

"Then if you'll excuse me..."

The Headmaster, still dripping cold sweat, filed out of the room.

"Chairman. Submit a full planning report on this matter to the imperial family by the end of the week. And keep the students on a tight leash. If any careless talk gets out, I will hold you responsible."

Darius left that razor-edged warning behind and departed with Milia. Beatrice was about to follow when she spoke over her shoulder.

"That technique wasn't part of the original plan, you know. I was quite surprised. For a moment I thought the Chairman had become a Hero himself."

The Chairman shrugged.

"His Highness didn't look inclined to back down easily. Thanks to that, things worked out rather well, didn't they? It's all thanks to Your Highness's grace. Or perhaps..."

He carefully lowered his voice.

"Would you prefer I address you as Her Majesty the Empress?"

The Chairman and Beatrice had already joined hands behind the scenes. Beatrice had enticed him with the promise of guaranteed extraterritorial rights and enormous imperial subsidies once she became Empress, exploiting the Chairman's lingering resentment toward the current imperial family. It was a negotiation made possible because she knew how he had suffered after the subsidies were cut five years ago.

As expected. Foolish humans, clinging to their petty gains.

The Dual Use of Mana and Internal Energy had come out of nowhere, but Darius swallowing it without a fight was a considerable advantage. All that remained was to prepare for the final plan.

"Hehe. I do like people who know how to bow their heads."

"Then I bid you good day."

With that, Beatrice left the Chairman's office. Only once he was alone did the Chairman let out a deep sigh.

"I don't know if this is the right thing..."

Then he took out his Mana Phone at once. He placed a call, and someone picked up almost immediately.

It was Darius's voice. He let out a sigh that could have been lament or fury.

The truth was this. The Chairman and Darius had coordinated their story in advance. The entire confrontation in the Chairman's office had been a performance staged for Beatrice's benefit — a show of the Chairman turning against Darius, so that he would appear to have joined the princess's side.

All of it was because of what X had said before leaving for the Ancient Ruins.

X had never trusted Andras from the beginning. He had never even entertained the idea that Andras would trust him. A demon of suspicion and discord would never place faith in anyone. So he had planned for the worst possible scenario — the assumption that X himself would be gone.

X's thorough preparedness was paying off. Without that warning, the Chairman would have been played by Beatrice, and Darius would have struggled to get the situation under control. That single caution had changed everything. The Chairman and Darius joining forces — something that had never happened in the original story — had come to pass. A truly dramatic shift.

After a brief silence, Darius spoke ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠again.

The Chairman reeled as if he'd been struck. He had never imagined those words would come from the mouth of that cold-blooded, ice-sharp Crown Prince. He turned them over, and found himself nodding.

"...I see. You were terribly young, after all. Governing an empire at the age of twelve could not have been easy."

The Chairman tried to imagine what it would have been like if he himself had been suddenly forced to run an empire at twelve. It would have been utterly impossible. No matter how well he performed, mistakes would have been inevitable. And with hyena-like nobles circling for blood, simply surviving would have been remarkable enough. Thinking about it that way, it was entirely understandable.

"It no longer troubles me, Your Highness."

In that short exchange, the two of them came to a genuine understanding and let go of the bitterness they had been carrying. Both of them set down a tremendous weight they had been shouldering in their hearts.

This was something even X had not predicted.

Even after the interrogation ended, Circe was busy.

"Circe. Are you truly set on transferring to Class F?"

"Yes. If that's not possible, I'll refuse to continue my studies."

Circe informed her Class A professor of the transfer request. He looked at the resolve in her face and sighed.

"...All right. I'll check with the Class F professor."

Permission had already been granted. She had asked Roxwell, who had been brooding with a troubled expression.

...Do whatever you want.

That had been the end of it. Barring any major issues, the transfer would go through.

"Circe!"

Leon's party was waiting when she stepped out of the faculty office. Leon couldn't quite meet her eyes. Neither could Rosaria or Diana. Only Frey stepped forward on the party's behalf.

"Circe, are you really going to Class F?"

"I am. I've got nothing more to say."

She had Lola to look after as it was. Lola's state of mind was in serious danger right now.

"Circe, please reconsider. Why do you think we were reincarnated like this? It was all the Goddess's will."

"...Frey."

Circe's tone turned sharp, pinning her in place.

"Have you ever acted on your own thoughts, not the Goddess's?"

"Nh..."

"This is my last warning as a Sage. If all you ever do is cling to the Goddess's will, there'll come a day she turns her back on you."

Frey had no answer. She herself had begun to doubt whether this was truly right, and Circe had driven a needle straight into that doubt, leaving her speechless.

"Take care, then. Don't bother acting like you know me."

Ironically, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠none of them shared a single class with Circe. They were all warriors or clergy. Once she transferred to Class F, every point of contact would vanish completely. They knew that, and still not one of them could open their mouth.

Circe walked past Leon's party. No one could stop her.

"I.... I don't think I was wrong."

He said it as she passed by his side. Circe paused, waiting for whatever he would say last.

"But...."

Leon's lips trembled. He hesitated, then squeezed his eyes shut.

"...I don't know. I still don't think I was wrong."

"Then I've got nothing more to say."

Circe's reply was ice-cold, and she walked on. Leon was still Leon, after all. With that, she had broken with the Hero's party completely.

Lola was waiting in her dormitory room.

"Lady Lemercier. I'm coming in."

Circe opened the door and stepped inside. Lola was simply lying on the bed, staring at nothing.

"How are you feeling?"

"...Not great."

Lola believed X was dead. Of course she did — she had seen his corpse.

"...Liar."

She curled in on herself, remembering that cold, lifeless sensation.

"You said demons don't die..."

"You knew he was a demon?"

"Vaguely.... Mana warned me the day his hair turned white. He must've been carrying around a Demonification Accelerator, smashed it, and gotten drenched. Lucky enough that only his body turned into a demon..."

"Ah..."

Only then did Circe manage to piece the sequence together, however clumsily. Even so, questions remained.

"What the demon possessing Hilde said is still bothering me."

That would mean the soul isn't a demon, wouldn't it~?

"The soul isn't a demon — what on earth does ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that even..."

"X was still X, I guess."

Lola's voice was dry as dust. It didn't make any sense, but there was no other way to explain it. In that case, where had they gone?

The demon possessing Hilde had seemed intent on killing X, Lola, and Elia — all three. If X's and Elia's disappearances meant they were dead, then why was Lola still alive?

...Someone intervened?

Back then, the situation had changed with the sound of someone snapping their fingers. When she'd come to her senses, she had assumed it was Hilde's doing. But that didn't explain Lola being alive. For someone called a Sage, there was far too much she didn't know.

"Miss Circe. You're good at magic, right?"

Lola spoke up while Circe was still grinding through the headache of it.

"It is a field I have confidence in, but..."

"Teach me magic."

"I beg your pardon?"

"There's someone I have to kill."

A deep, dark hatred lived in those words.

"Elia. She killed X, so I have to take revenge."

"Lady Lemercier..."

"The House of Lemercier..."

Lola looked Circe straight in the eyes. It was a gaze cold enough to freeze the spine from nothing more than being met.

It was a will to battle written in the blood — something someone had once tried to put to sleep.

Regrettably, the instincts of the blood could not be deceived.