The Unqualified - 4

The moment doubt flickered across their faces at Hans's words, the blue window let out an eerie chime, declaring the story's end.

The blue window, proclaiming no hope for us who had lost our qualifications, issued its verdict of failure.

Yuria's eyes trembled greatly at the word "corruption." Her face darkened with the thought that it might be too late and the guilt of failing to protect Hans.

"Hans..."

"Don't look at me like that. It's too late anyway."

Sneering, Hans spoke to Yuria, who wore a pitiful expression.

"You need to finish what you were saying earlier. I asked how someone like you, who doesn't even know attack magic, survived in a dungeon."

Hans's words stirred the doubts Yuria had forgotten for so long.

Presenting an alternative to her firm conclusion that it had been Ricardo's doing, Hans wore a sinister smile.

"Aren't you curious? How you survived?"

Yuria had thought it was Ricardo's handiwork. She'd considered it might not be, but if not Ricardo, then who had dragged her out of the dungeon? She believed there had to be some connection, at least. The odds were too absurd to call it coincidence.

But Hans's counterargument began to shake her conclusion.

"Truth is, I was there too. I'd learned a decent spell and came to the dungeon to test it."

Casually, Hans placed a hand on Ruin's head. Vowing no failure this time, he tightened black chains around Mikhail, exuding dark mana, all while eyeing Yuria.

"About an hour in? I heard weird noises from the corridor. 'Don't tail Mikhail.' I didn't like you from the start. 'Don't get cocky just 'cause you're a commoner.' I heard that, and knew it was you right away. Honestly, who else would say crap like that? Right?"

Ignoring Ruin's pained curses, Hans recounted the day's events as he remembered them, his serpent-like eyes unblinking.

"Those guys were real pieces of work too. If you're gonna curse someone, do it behind their back, not right to their face. Then they collapsed the exit with magic... I wanted to help, but..."

Hans's faint smile faded.

"When I cleared the blocked path, you were gone."

"..."

"Hey, Yuria... Ever heard the academy dungeon ghost story? The one where if you enter alone, a ghost possesses you."

"What are you getting at?"

Hans snorted at Yuria's words.

"You need to know. You were possessed by that ghost."

In Hans's hand floated a red-glowing orb containing Ruin's unique magic. Looking down at the gasping Ruin, Hans stomped on his head and slowly began absorbing the spell.

Feeling the searing heat, Hans smiled and continued his explanation for the oblivious Yuria.

"You know Kalips?"

Hans flashed a wicked grin.

"This guy's the owner of that ghost story."

"...Don't mess with me. He died over a hundred years ago. How could..."

"Who said he died?"

"Wait... He's dead now, so yeah, he is?"

Hans snapped his fingers. The red orb—Ruin's unique magic—split into hundreds of lights, illuminating the dark ceiling.

Yuria squinted at the sudden brightness, then lost her words at the sight before her. The ceiling and walls were covered in countless sword scars amid dense ancient script.

Reading Yuria's shocked eyes, Hans spoke.

"Still nothing coming back?"

In that instant, forgotten memories flashed through Yuria's mind.

The man's face was foggy in the hazy memory, but the gentle voice was unmistakably familiar to Yuria.

Shaking her head against the wave of recollections, she muttered.

"No... Back then, clearly..."

Seeing Yuria mumble, Hans shook his head with a sigh.

"Poor Ricardo."

The moment Ruin's stolen unique ability fully absorbed into Hans's body—

"Gaaahhh!!!"

Red light burst from Hans's body. The sudden crimson glow enveloped him. Ruin's unique ability, absorbing into Hans, reverted to orb form and detached. Hans clutched his head in agony, screaming.

"Gaaahhh!!! What the hell! I perfectly executed the ritual...! What's wrong?!"

Writhing in pain, Hans sensed something amiss, gritted his teeth, and sought the cause—but the rampaging dark mana left him flailing blindly.

"Now!"

Seizing the moment, Mikhail—freed from bonds—charged Hans. The orb of Ruin's magic flew from Hans's hand and hit the floor. Ruin crawled desperately toward it.

Mikhail faced Hans.

Yuria clutched her head amid fleeting memories, in chaos.

Hans, panicked by the dark mana's rampage, muttered a familiar name in fury.

"You left me tainted food, huh... Ricardo...!"

Gazing at the massive sword scars on the ceiling, Hans spat venomous curses at the obliterated complex runes.

As everyone staked their lives, a blue window slowly materialized before Yuria's vacant eyes.

In that instant, Yuria's time froze.

Mikhail, sword drawn, facing Hans.

Ruin crawling on the floor.

Hans clutching his head amid black magic backlash.

All frozen like statues. Even airborne dust hung motionless.

'Wha...?'

Yuria, harboring a small doubt, couldn't move freely in the halted time either. She could only stare at the blue text before her.

An ominous premonition gripped her.

Yuria's vision went black.

Yuria opened her eyes in a familiar place. Before the academy fountain. Amid the bustling student path, she stood. It was early dawn. Gray skies illuminated the fountain.

Confused, Yuria looked around—then spotted the black-haired woman, realizing this wasn't reality.

—Hmnya.

The youngest daughter of the Desmont family, rivaling the Mage Tower in prestige. Before black magic stripped her glossy black hair—the past Olivia Desmont.

From her former appearance, Yuria knew she'd gone back in time.

'A dream?'

Or had she fainted? Either way, they couldn't see her now.

Olivia sat on the fountain railing, munching chocolate before a red-haired man. Her fierce eyes were just as before.

—So, did you do what I told you?

—Put thumbtacks in her slippers?

—Yeah.

—No.

—Why.

—Too annoying.

—Wanna get fired?

—Snip snip.

—Eeeek!!

The two bantered normally. Seeing them joke like old times, Yuria clenched her fists. She didn't like these people she hated looking so chummy.

The casual talk of thumbtacks in her slippers made her seethe.

After brief banter, Olivia sighed deeply at Ricardo.

—I'll say it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠once, so listen well.

Hearing Olivia's words, Yuria unclenched her fists.

'What...?'

As if voicing her thoughts, Ricardo asked the past Olivia in confusion.

—What did you say?

—You heard me.

—No... Huh.

Flustered, Ricardo ran a hand through his hair. A flicker of anger showed in his eyes as he looked down at Olivia.

Ricardo spoke to her, suppressing his rage with a calm voice, relaying what he'd heard.

—What do you mean, leave Yuria in the dungeon alone?

He pressed Olivia. Wasn't that too much? How could they abandon Yuria—who couldn't even use attack magic—alone in a dungeon? Watching ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ricardo yell, Yuria thought.

'Why that face?'

She couldn't understand his anger. It wasn't fitting for the man who'd tormented her.

'Shouldn't he be glad?'

Yuria sensed her memories were wrong.

The past Olivia avoided ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ricardo's gaze.

—Wasn't my idea.

—Then whose...!

—Kayla.

The familiar name brushed her ears.

'Kayla.'

A marquis's daughter, yet she'd approached the ostracized Yuria first—a precious friend.

The unexpected name hit like a club to the head, leaving her dizzy. She wanted to believe it a dream. They'd gotten along so well until now. Kayla, who comforted her first upon surviving the dungeon, was the mastermind? Yuria couldn't hide her trembling heart.

'Kayla did that...?'

'No way. Kayla's so kind.'

'We ate together, did homework— we were so close.'

Denying it inwardly, she tried focusing on Olivia's words, but her turmoil persisted.

Olivia began explaining to Ricardo why she'd been abandoned that day.

—Kayla likes Mikhail too. Said to teach her a lesson, crush her so she never tails him again— it'd break her spirit.

Ricardo sighed deeply at Olivia's blunt words.

—And you agreed?

—No. Sounded like trouble, so I said no.

—Good call.

—I know.

Ricardo massaged his throbbing head, muttering why he always got dragged into this, then spoke of Kayla.

—The dead rat in her locker last week—that was Kayla too, right?

—Yeah. I'm scared of rats, can't touch 'em. You do it, Ricardo?

—No way? I hate rats too.

—Scaredy-cat.

Ricardo seemed to have known long ago. What Kayla was like, why she'd approached her.

He'd known for ages.

'What...'

The story clashed so much with what she knew—Yuria grew anxious.

'Why... Kayla.'

Olivia relayed Kayla's words; Ricardo nodded. The disconnect pained Yuria's head amid chaotic thoughts.

'Lies?'

Her closest friend trying to kill her? Olivia telling Ricardo? Unbelievable. Kayla's protective acts being a charade? Inconceivable.

As her mind reeled, Ricardo donned his coat and told Olivia.

—Taking the day off, then.

—To save her?

—Yeah. Can't let my friend suffer.

Friend. He called her friend. It felt alien from the man she'd hated.

Olivia told him to do as he pleased. She wasn't Yuria's friend—didn't care if she died.

Ricardo eyed her questioningly.

—But why tell me? You hate Yuria too.

—Yeah. Hate her. But...

Standing from the railing, Olivia stated clearly.

—Dying's a bit much. And after fighting Kayla...

—You won?

Olivia pulled a clump of hair from her pocket—Kayla's, it seemed.

—Yeah.

Fitting the undefeated Olivia's moniker.

—And you'd go even if I said no.

—No. If you say don't, I won't.

—Liar. You helped secretly last time.

—Luck.

—Lame lie.

—I'll practice.

Ricardo watched Olivia head to the dorms, then turned with a hardened face. He broke into a sprint toward the dungeon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠where she'd been abandoned that day—without rest.

As the misunderstanding unraveled.

A pale blue script heralding the tale's start draped before her eyes once more.

And then—

Her own figure stabbing Ricardo in the abdomen came into view.