What Does a Man with Nothing Protect?

X understood Darius's meaning at once. Andras is rushing...? Why?

Too much was still unprepared. The tournament—and the raid that was supposed to come with it—was close, but even that wasn't enough to give Andras the certainty he needed to move. Andras never acted without certainty. If he was moving now, it meant he had found some. X had no idea what that something was. He only knew it had to be stopped.

X wrote, fully prepared to be charged with insulting the imperial family.

"We have to bring her in now, before it's too late."

Darius shook his head, his expression dark.

"After you appeared at the academy, the princess left, claiming she had business to attend to. The curse worsened almost immediately, as if it had been waiting for her to go. I tried to detain her at once. There was no trace of her anywhere."

He had been ready to force her into custody and wear the infamy that came with it. He had failed. Darius ground his teeth at his own blunder.

X had a fair idea of what Andras was after. He's going to meet the Revolutionary Army. The intent was obvious: take personal command. In the original novel, Andras had led the Revolutionary Army himself at the moment of usurpation, launching a surprise assault on the imperial palace where Darius was. But this scenario had already diverged too far from the original for that plot to play out cleanly. I don't know what he's thinking, but...

Fortunately, X had a cheat for figuring all of this out. It'll all be written in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Synopsis.

He activated the Synopsis Function at once and scrolled through Andras's movements to date.

...So that's what it was.

A chill crawled down X's spine. Without this function, he might have walked straight into the trap Andras had dug for him.

"You don't look well. Are you all right?"

Darius startled at the ashen cast of X's face. X hurried to compose both his expression and his mind.

"I'm fine."

"Seems I came at a bad time."

"I'm truly fine."

"No—that was thoughtless of me. I should go."

Darius made to rise. When X reached for his writing slate to see him off, Darius stopped him.

"No need for pointless send-offs. I'll be borrowing this sacred relic. If I have even this, something might change."

X had no reason to refuse. He nodded. Having the thing in his own hands wouldn't have changed anything anyway.

"Get some rest."

Darius turned on his heel and headed out. He had to break the curse with this relic, one way or another.

"...Hah."

Milia watched X for a moment as he sat lost in thought, then let out a faint sigh. She followed Darius, and once they were outside, her face turned grave.

"What will you do, Your Highness?"

She had decided to hear the prince's judgment. X currently occupied a rather dangerous position. He knew the vanished princess's true nature. He was bound to the prince by a certain contract. He was a commoner in possession of information he had no business knowing. And now, with every use he might have had exhausted, he was a liability.

"If you were to give the order..."

She would suppress every emotion and swing her sword. She didn't bother saying it. The Sword of the Empire did not think. She did not decide. That iron rule had to be kept.

"I..."

Darius answered with difficulty, worry carved deep into his face.

"I don't know. Even under baseless suspicion, even with his life on the line, he staked everything on loyalty and a promise. Is casting out a man like that really the right call?"

He stopped walking and looked back at Milia, his gaze searching for an answer.

"What do you think?"

"...I would not dare to say."

"You still haven't let go of your suspicions, have you?"

"The only thing that matters to me is protecting His Highness the Prince and His Majesty the Emperor. That is all. For that purpose, I will suspect anyone and turn my blade on anyone."

"So you're palming this heavy responsibility off on me."

Milia bowed her head in silence. Darius exhaled a long breath and started walking again. Then he posed a riddle.

"Your Highness?"

"It's nothing."

A riddle was a riddle precisely because it offered no easy answer.

Not long after, X left the treatment room. The hospital-like atmosphere did nothing to settle his nerves. Stepping into his dorm room was a relief by comparison.

A little better.

He lay down on the bed, and silence filled the room. As the quiet stretched on, his thoughts drifted to the system. He opened it at once and checked his information.

What changed was... nothing.

His talents and titles were the same. His basic stats and information hadn't budged either. He'd beaten Leon in the Ancient Ruins, so he'd expected the Warrior of Reversal title to trigger. Unfortunately, it hadn't.

Because I wasn't the one who finished him?

The disappointment lingered. Then again, if he could pad his stats with wins that cheap, he wouldn't have had to suffer through all this hell in the first place. After poking through the rest of the system, the only conclusion he could reach was that everything had reverted to the way it was before his race had changed to demon.

But this stat is still here.

Grip Strength. A stat whose true nature remained a mystery. It was a power he'd used unconsciously when he transformed through Demonification, but he still had no idea what Grip Strength actually was.

It's not like I'd ever used this before...

If he could wield a demon's power, it might become a serious asset. He was locked in a staring contest with the system screen, turning that thought over, when—

...Huh.

He found something strange in the way the Grip Strength stat was displayed. The [Sealed] tag that used to sit beside it is gone.

Until now, even though he had the stat, he hadn't been able to use it—because it had been sealed. The disappearance of that tag might mean the seal had broken.

Would this even work?

Half-doubting, he reached for the sensation he'd felt in the Ancient Ruins.

A thin whine cut through the air.

In that instant, a strange black light gathered at the tips of his fingers. It was so faint and small it was hard to even make out.

This is Grip Strength?

It was unmistakably a demon's power. Grip Strength.

This... this I can use.

If he used this newly awakened power, he might be able to turn Andras's own trap against him. Even Andras—paranoid, always laying second and third contingencies—would never have seen this coming.

The next morning, Roxwell—who came every day to put X through his paces—did not show. When the daily routine failed to continue, a baseless anxiety crept in, and X reached out to him first. The answer that came back was short.

Why is everyone telling me to rest?

As if he could. He couldn't see an inch ahead. In a situation like this, he didn't have lives to spare on taking it easy.

The list of things to worry about is a mountain, but...

Growwwl—

That didn't mean he could live without eating. Whether it was proof he'd become human again or not, hunger announced itself with a hollow ache. Feeling the unfamiliar pinch of an empty stomach for the first time in a while, X headed for the cafeteria. And there he witnessed a very strange scene.

"PUT YOUR BACKS INTO IT, YOU PATHETIC WEAKLINGS!!"

"UWAAAAAGH—!!"

"You think internal energy's gonna build itself if you're this soft?!"

"GYAAAAAH—!!"

Out on the outdoor training grounds, a crowd of scrawny students were hauling enormous logs across their shoulders, sweating through brutal boot-camp drills. They looked for all the world like magic-track students. Why they were doing log training of all things, X could not begin to guess.

"How the hell did that guy do this every single day...?!"

"I don't know, GYAAAAAAH—!!"

Among them were quite a few first-years who used to laugh at X for training every morning and evening. Getting stronger never hurt anyone, I guess.

"Nngaaaah! Goddess, grant me strength...!"

He was fairly sure there was a divine-track student in the mix too, but he made a point of ignoring that.

The strangeness did not end when he reached the cafeteria.

"The fundamental unit of mana is classified as a mana particle, and..."

"The classification of magic circles is... Argh! Can't I just cram this in?!"

Martial-track students, who ought to have reeked of sweat, were giving off the smell of ink instead, studying as if even mealtime were too precious to waste. Some of them were working their brains so hard they couldn't tell if the spoon was going in their mouth or their nose—and more than a few had blood running from theirs.

Has the whole academy lost its mind, or have I?

X chewed slowly, trying to decide how to feel about the bizarre spectacle. Come to think of it, last time Circe had...

"So. How do you like it, Mr. Mastermind behind this mess?"

Someone set a tray down across from him and sat. It was Circe, wearing an expression full of grievance.

"Ever since that curriculum went public, it's been like this. They're all blood-crazed over something they'll never pull off, just to graze the Hero's toes. And the cause of all this is you."

The curriculum in question was the Dual Use of Mana and Internal Energy. X, the one who had spread the method in the first place, shrugged as if he had no idea what she was talking about. Circe snorted and went on venting between bites.

"The rumor that you used mana and internal energy at the same time started circulating, and that became the problem. People started saying that's how a weed like you beat Gripork in a duel, the story got inflated, and then it was, 'If he can do it, why can't I?' And here we are."

X shrugged again.

"Right. Of course you wouldn't know."

Circe let out a long sigh.

"I don't like this. There are plenty of people who can't even master one thing no matter how hard they try, and now they're pulling this..."

"Let's eat. Talking while you eat is rude."

Circe swallowed her food on a rising tide of fury, barely restraining the urge to stomp on X's foot, and filed away a lecture for later. The moment he finished, she dragged him out of the cafeteria and into a private room in the library where they could talk without being overheard.

X stated his position the instant the door closed.

"There's no point in getting angry at me. If students want to study and train, that's a good thing. This will blow over soon enough anyway."

Circe swallowed the anger that wanted to burst out of her and sighed instead.

"Sure. I don't think that's a bad thing. I'll give you a hundred steps—no, ten thousand. Magic students taking care of their health, martial students getting smarter—great. It's great, except—"

She slammed the table, fury boiling over.

"It cannot become the goal! What is this?! Everyone and their mother trying to become some half-baked Hero! How is that any different from wasting time?!"

"It's completely different."

X wrote it out slowly.

"The academy's founding ideal is to produce a Hero. But the Hero has already been chosen: Leon. Defeatism is going to take root in every student's heart."

I can never be the Hero. Someone else has already been chosen. That small seed would only grow with time. For a student with a fragile heart, it was far too cruel a thing to bear.

"An academy is a place of learning that forces competition and comparison. If the summit is a place they can never reach, they'll despair. So you have to give them a small hope, even if it's a fake one."

"And that hope is the Dual Use of Mana and Internal Energy?"

X nodded, unhurried. Dual Use was not a requirement to become a Hero. You used that power because you had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠already become one. A ridiculous sleight of hand that swapped cause and effect—but still.

"If that makes the students work hard, isn't that a good thing?"

X cared about results. The original novel's route had already gone wildly off course. Andras had vanished, and the empire's fracture had begun. He couldn't even guess how the Hellgate episode would play out now. To survive a doom that could arrive at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠any moment, everyone needed power of their own. No one could be allowed to give up.

Circe looked like she had something to say to that. Then she sighed and conceded.

"Don't pull that grown-up act on me. You're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠still wet behind the ears."

"Well. I didn't expect them to go this overboard."

"Forget it. Honestly, I'm just frustrated that everyone obsesses over the title of 'Hero' and never looks at what actually matters."

X understood her well enough. Almost no one had watched a Hero from as close as she had.

"Anyway, what are you planning to do now?"

"Stop the doom, somehow. About that, there's something I wanted to discuss—"

"No. Not that. I mean next week."

Circe pointed out something X had completely failed to consider.

"You do know the Grand Feast Day events start next Monday, right?"

He'd completely forgotten. The tournament was about to begin.