Pointless Battle -5: The Archbishop Emerges

Ruin wiped the blood trickling from his split lip and slumped onto the bench. "Fucking dogshit."

He couldn't shake the gloom. There was no excuse for an overwhelming defeat so total he hadn't even gotten a chance to fight back. Even if he'd pulled out his trump card. Even if he'd been in perfect condition. He just couldn't have won. With a sigh, Ruin grabbed the towel draped over his head and scrubbed his face. "Fuck."

Today's freshmen murmurs rang especially clear in his ears. The blame aimed his way felt amplified, stabbing deep. He lacked the courage to start over. Back then, he'd have brushed it off with a "Winners go all the way." But now? No energy left. He just wanted to give up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on everything.

Bowed low on the bench, Ruin's face darkened. "Guess it was all my fault."

"Hans too... and not seeing Yuria for what she was... all my fault."

Self-loathing crashed in. The fortress of pride he'd built crumbled in an instant, leaving him pathetic and stupid inside. Did I look down on everyone for this little?Got cocky with skills anyone could catch up to?

"What the fuck am I?"

Empty, worthless, idiotic. Unable to dispel the melancholy, Ruin forced his head up. Maybe she's nearby to comfort me.

Ruin lifted his head, reminiscing happy days. Maybe Yuria will come comfort me like always. But his hopes dashed. Yuria met his eyes... then turned away.

"Can't even look at me anymore..."

Her absence, once his constant comfort, loomed larger than expected. He'd thought he'd be fine, make ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠new friends. But after bitter defeats, her "You okay?" echoed huge. He'd just wanted to be the best. Now? Nothing left. No friends. No talent. No honor.

"Haa..."

Ruin sighed deeply, dropping his head and draping the towel over it. Hiding his miserable face from the world.

Three minutes passed. A short boy approached with a cold drink. Ruin glared stiffly. "Why're you here? To gloat about winning?"

"Thought you might need this."

"...Fucking obnoxious prick."

Shameless bastard. After all that abuse, why bother? Ruin scoffed at Mikhail's empty grin.

"Retard."

Hated him, but couldn't. It was all for him. Knowing the backlash, Mikhail still encouraged. Swallowing bitterness, Ruin took the drink.

Not looking at Mikhail beside him, Ruin muttered, "You're insanely strong."

"Nah, so many stronger than me."

"Obnoxious prick." Ruin's voice drooped. "I was that pathetic?"

"What?"

"My magic."

"...Yeah."

"Fuck."

Ruin forced a smile, pain churning. At least his friend stuck around—gave strength. Rumors might stay mild. "All hype," "Magic tower sucks"—toned down. Hiding embarrassment, Ruin whispered, "Thanks."

"For what."

"Figure it out, dumbass."

"..."

As elation faded, Mikhail cautiously asked, "Magic... you quitting?"

"..."

"Isn't ending like this a waste? Start over from scratch..."

Ruin sighed at Mikhail's meddling, tossing the empty bottle. "Can't. Too many expectations... Wanna quit, but can't."

Mikhail nodded with a small smile. Time passed; breathing steadied, Ruin's narrowed vision widened. Now watch juniors. Time before Mikhail's match—relax together.

Ruin shook sweaty hair, looked up. "What? Next is her?"

Mikhail eyed the pointed figure, voice low. "Yeah... her."

"Why the sour face? I'm the one who should look like that. Fuck."

"..."

"Still pissed about last year's loss? No rematch— you're third-years."

Ruin clapped Mikhail's shoulder. "You'll win anyway."

"...No."

"What?"

Ruin glanced at the girl stretching below the arena. "Can't win?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck. What the hell runs this academy..."

The opponent Ruin pointed at: Hanna Histania. Sword department genius who'd claimed top spot last ranking tournament. Stretching calmly.

Ruin smirked bitterly. "Crazy bitch."

He'd hated her since she hung with Ricardo, souring senior-junior ties.

She'd trailed him calling "Senior" once. Fuck. Lightened by Mikhail chat, Ruin darkened at Hanna. "Hope she gets fucking crushed."

And then. What the— A chill. Ruin slowly looked across the arena at a pale boy, face eerily off—like a corpse.

Familiar face...

Before doubt lingered, the announcer girl's booming voice cleared it.

Ruin shot up at "Hops." The professor's disciple from last night's creepy offer—magic cadet Hops.

He'd forgotten. Drowned in defeat, ignored his faults. Nearly turned to black magic. Spy in academy—unreported.

Ruin stared at Hops. "Heh heh heh..."

Laughing?

Something wrong. Instinct screamed: trouble in this match.

"Gotta stop it."

"What?"

"We have to stop it."

Announcer boomed, no pause.

Through Ruin's wandering gaze, Shartia appeared frantic, scanning seats, pointing at front row, shouting.

Drowned in student buzz. Ruin calmly followed her finger: Schulia professor, subtle smile.

Fuck.

Schulia smiled creepily at Hanna, waiting.

About to yell—

—Kiiiing...!

Shriek of blade on magic. Friction roar, flames clashing. Ruin refocused on arena.

"Die!"

Hops' malice echoed. Dust cloud obscured; only shadows darted.

"Mikhail!"

"Huh?"

"Get up there and stop it."

"What?"

Mikhail panicked—no disrupting matches, even hating Hanna. Ruin ignored, grabbed his hand. "Stop it! That fucker's a black mage."

"What did you—!"

BOOOOM! Massive quake shook stands.

Even from seats. Ruin thought to intervene—

—Gahk...!

Scream; shadow tumbled from dust.

Ruin clenched fists, bracing worst. Confess truth, take blame. They'd think Hanna critically hurt. Must reveal.

Gulped at falling figure.

Shit...!

Convinced it was Hanna—no genius ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠withstands that blast.

Thud...!

Holding breath—Ruin gaped dumbly. "What. Why're you falling..."

Not Hanna. Hops, trembling, wrist severed, staring up terrified.

"Cough... Monster..."

Hops had aimed to kill Hanna. Bitter loss last tourney—crushed in one second, no mercy. To repay, touched forbidden, prepared.

Cast to kill, but collapsed powerless. Hanna's sword overwhelmed. Her eyes, targeting his hand to end—terrifying.

"Monster... How could I beat that..."

Too scared to stand. Ruin wrinkled nose at black magic stench from Hops' stump.

"Fucking insane..."

Scoffed at cold-eyed Hanna below. "Real monster."

Relief at safe end—

—Boom!

Stands exploded. Where student council rushed at Shartia's gesture. Dust, shadow fighting students.

And.

"Annoying."

Woman's flick—blood scent from dust. Blink—instant, figure hurled toward arena.

"What."

Thud—girl crashed. Chaos screams from stands.

Ruin's voice shook at vomiting girl. "Student council president...?"

Shartia, trembling: "Run..."

"What?"

"Everyone, run!"

Dark clouds blanketed round arena, shrouding below. Ruin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyed descending sky—light steps, woman appeared. Smiling faintly at Ruin, approaching Mikhail, Shartia, Hanna—not fast, not slow.

Mikhail trembled: "Professor?"

"Yes~ Mikhail."

Schulia smiled. "Didn't expect getting caught so soon."

Beaming at all: "Guess I should just kill you all?"

Pure malice. Unprecedented evil. Ruin thought: Run.

*Meanwhile.

Hans fidgeted before me. "Can the students beat the archbishop?"

I set down my teacup. Obvious question, but he'd nag without answer. "Of course not."

"Pardon...?"

"How? She's a proper archbishop. Even you couldn't handle one alone."

"Winning would be weird."

Hans eyed my calm. Why start this? "Shouldn't we go?"

"Why? She's ex-archbishop. And you'd get caught by imperial forces in the capital."

"..."

Too soft from me. Nice guys finish last. I smiled. "Leave it. My disciple's there."

"Disciple?"

"Yeah."

Smiling, cheering her growth. Won't win, but can stall plenty. "She's crazy strong."

I grinned.

*

—Clang...!

Hanna swung without hesitation. Target: Schulia professor's neck. Crave merit, fulfill wish.