Epilogue: Calamity-Class Mastermind (1)
Rasciena's speech had concluded. The auditorium was swiftly brought under control. All scheduled events were canceled. The injured were promptly transported to the infirmary. Students who had already undergone inspection were directed straight to the dormitory. Of course, those lingering for expedited checks didn't seem too displeased. The headmaster had glared daggers from the stage, cowing even the inquisitors into submission.
And the inspection results? No additional heretics were uncovered.
"The students seem in high spirits."
At the academy's main gate, Lesian stood before a carriage summoned from the commercial city of Calrod, glancing back toward the auditorium entrance. Under professors' guidance, throngs of students streamed toward the dormitory district—faces weary from the chaos, traces of fear lingering, others brightened by the headmaster's compensation promises. The moment her eyes caught those beaming with joy, a faint crack spiderwebbed through Lesian's smile.
"Lady Lesian. This way, please."
The carriage door opened, then shut. Sinking into the plush seat within, Lesian fixed her gaze blankly ahead, her soft smile frozen in place.
"..."
She looked eerily like a lifeless doll. But the truth was far removed. Lesian was desperately clinging to that facade. Her breathing was ragged, her pupils visibly quaking.
"Hoo."
The Inquisition had stormed the entrance ceremony, even signing a half-concessionary pact with the autonomous territory's authorities. Bracing for backlash from the academy and defense forces. Enduring the fury of noble factions whose children were entangled. They had willingly borne such costs to press an aggressive offensive—rooting out heretics per the predictions of those behind the goddess cult, laying groundwork for long-term interference in the territory, adjusting what they called the "main storyline." An essential step.
But it had failed. They snared two possessors, but that was it. Reverse Star executives slipped away, derailing the interference scheme. This blow would reverberate hard through the Inquisition.
The instant that realization hit, fissures shattered Lesian's porcelain-smooth expression.
"Damn it! Damn it! Daaaamn!"
Crack! Crunch!
The carriage rattled with cracks and dents everywhere. Her face twisted into a demonic snarl, Lesian spewed ravings like a madwoman.
"Everything was in my grasp...! Everyone under my control..!"
The genteel, androgynous prince was gone. In her place raged a lunatic clutching her hair as if to rip it out.
The inquisitor on the driver's seat desperately ignored her. Drawing attention now meant risking his neck—plenty of colleagues had already lost theirs the same way.
Thankfully, Lesian's frenzy didn't last. Gasping harshly, she formed her right fingers into a gun, pressing it to her temple. Violet energy condensed at her index finger.
Bang!
A beam of purple light pierced her skull. Her head jerked violently, then lolled forward.
Ten seconds later, Lesian slowly lifted her head. Utterly serene.
"Hoo. This won't do. Gentlemanly, stay gentlemanly."
The shattered mask pieced itself back together. Her lips curved softly upward, eyes gentling. The savage who had nearly demolished the carriage was nowhere in sight.
"Yes, it's fine still."
She murmured, clapping lightly.
"No hitches in the second plan."
The key operation had gone awry, but the Inquisition's full hand wasn't exposed. Other schemes ran parallel from the start. Secret ops known only to Black Stars like Lesian—or equivalents.
Like infiltrating the academy with the sixth-ranked of the Inquisition's six Black Stars—as a student.
If exposed, the fallout would rival today's. But Lesian was confident. The academy wouldn't detect it.
"No way this could go wrong. That child was prepared for this moment over ten years."
Inquisition brainwashing tech. Endless training and conditioning. The result: Black Star rank six, a monster. Pure combat prowess? She might even surpass Lesian.
Not that it bruised her ego. Combat wasn't Lesian's forte anyway. She had talents irreplaceable by other Black Stars.
Infiltration, assassination, brainwashing. Assets to indirectly aid rank six going forward.
The first op's derailment meant delays, but no matter. The academy would fall into the Inquisition's clutches eventually.
Envisioning that near future, Lesian's smile deepened.
Then, recalling something forgotten, she couldn't hold back laughter.
"Puhaha! Right, I had one more delight left."
That luscious fruit, emotions masterfully reined even in extremity. Talent she craved to drag underground by any means.
Harne Astel.
If the second op proceeded smoothly. With Lesian's own abilities.
She could make her hers alone.
"Once I sample a fruit, I won't be sated till I devour it whole."
Lesian's lips curled grotesquely high. A tongue heavy with viscous greed slowly licked them.
"So wait for me. I'll make you my prisoner for sure."
Commercial city Calrod. Western slums district. Even after sunset, only sporadic lights dotted the gloom. A place steeped in shadow twenty-four hours a day, vibe worlds apart from the rest of the city.
And in that darkness lurked a massive shadow unknown to all.
The slums' remotest edge. An abandoned factory, outwardly neglected for years. Its entrance bristled with camouflage magitech and defensive barriers. Suspicious as hell.
Beyond those defenses: rooms stuffed with illicit drugs and weapons. And not just goods—henchmen managing, hauling, distributing them in droves.
Rare for a crime syndicate to run a hideout this size like a mere warehouse. Especially with that signature red-eye emblem on every chest. No mistaking it.
Reverse Star. This factory was their forward base for assaulting the academy.
And right now, it hosted a most precious guest.
The kingdom's top bountied terrorist. Symbol of utmost terror to the populace. Prime foe of the goddess cult.
Reverse Star cadre. One of the Reverse Stars: Earth Worker.
He hunkered in the deepest chamber of the retrofitted basement level one.
"Shiiit...!"
His face? Far from good. Rotting, even.
From the Black Star's blade gutting his belly that morning? No.
Op failure derailing their grand scheme? Nope.
Sure, both were gut-wrenching. But compared to the crisis closing in? Trivial.
Screams, explosions, flesh-rending squelches poured from the scrying orb. Henchmen massacred unilaterally by mystery foes.
Yet Earth Worker's sanctum was deathly still. Basement one, right under the fray.
A force that could flip a small town. Silencing them without a whisper leaking out?
One assailant? Solo?
One thing certain: a monster even Earth Worker couldn't handle.
And he knew one who moved just like this.
The dying gasp from the orb confirmed the dread.
Crunch.
A unfamiliar woman's voice followed.
Earth Worker gave no reply. Couldn't, even. Worst-case scenario hit; his brain shorted.
Secret Society. Elite squad, under ten official members estimated.
Yet one of the underworld's big three crime orgs, with Reverse Star and Ashen Garden.
Ask the most dangerous? Most would say the same. Earth Worker too, pride stung.
Secret Society. Facing one one-on-one? Unless Reverse Star's top two, unmanageable.
How'd they find this spot? Inquisition street sweeps missed it recently.
"Inquisition pursuit missed it—why?!"
He'd evaded inquisitors post-academy escape too. Injustice boiled over in a snarl.
Giggling echoed from the orb.
"[Oh, that? Thanks to you! Visited the academy today, remember? Slapped a tracker on you then.]"
"What..!"
The 'Thief' kindly explained. Truth dawned; Earth Worker's face flushed purple.
But panic aside, his hands flew. Post-raid, he'd been etching a teleport array.
Not a headmaster monster or vice like a teleporter. Firing high-tier teleport twice daily? Brutal.
Support requests to other branches sent, but slower than the array. Meaningless.
Still, henchmen bought time; array at 80%.
A sliver of foe laxity, and escape...
"My pal's already snuck down your way. Have fun~"
"!"
That instant, the 'Thief's' bombshell dropped.
Crack!
Door splintered multilimbed.
"Damn you!"
Earth Worker spat curses, reflexes kicking in. Wand up, combat ready.
Step.Step.
Tiny footfalls. Wand trained on the dark hall.
Someone entered leisurely.
A little girl. Long silver hair to her waist, slight and skinny. Black mask cloaking her face, dapper black garb.
That was it. Frail as a breeze could whisk away. No match for a Reverse Star cadre. Outwardly.
"Y-...You're... no way...!"
Earth Worker's eyes bulged. Wand-hand quivered. Identity confirmed, he stuttered backpedaling. Couldn't even aim.
Had to. Especially Reverse Star. Especially possessors.
She knew too well how absurd fighting that was.
Silver-haired girl in black mask, short sword at hip.
Secret Society cadre. Strongest surviving possessor. One of kingdom's five calamity-class wanted fugitives.
And...
"Eek...!"
Her impassive gaze pinned him. He flinched; she ignored, slowly raising her right hand. Palm skyward, fingers splayed.
"Lebnen."
She intoned flatly.
"Second-stage memory seal release."
Lebnen: Second-Stage Memory Seal Release
Roooar!!
"Kuhk!"
Earth Worker's body shuddered violently. Pressure from the girl spiked enormously.
"Wha... what...!"
Odd. Her mana output felt comparable. But fundamentally different.
Her pressure etched species gulf into him forcibly. Frog facing snake.
Despair dwarfing his existence loomed.
And it approached slowly. On a mystically emotionless face.
"As a fellow possessor, I get your mindset somewhat."
{Mysterious Beauty Modu... du... du...}
No. Her expression shifted subtly. Cold softness hardening murderous.
"But you've crossed the line."
{Mysterious Beau... ty... mo...}
Mask slits narrowed. Twisted lips birthed clearer emotion.
"Massacring innocents, touching my comrades."
[Target's realm too high! Module interference disabled!]
Emotions flooded her face. Fierce grin warped her scowl.
"Won't kill you yet. But brace yourself."
