Ominous Signs (1)
Shwaaaaa—
“Ugh, this rain’s pouring like a damn waterfall!”
“Quit complaining and get inside already.”
We’d barely pushed through the downpour to reach the cave. I plopped down on a rock, grabbed the hem of my sodden shirt, and wrung it out with my palms. Plop plop. The water dripped from the fabric, mingling with the puddle on the floor and sending out little ripples.
Grousing, I ran a hand through my hair to slick it back, and droplets showered down from the soaked strands. One trickle slid down my nape, tracing my back. The cold, ticklish sensation made me flinch instinctively.
“Hoo.”
My breath escaped in a short huff. As it touched my slightly feverish skin, a cool chill seeped in—not refreshing, but oddly eerie.
“Damn, I hate wet clothes. They stick like glue and feel so gross. Can’t just strip ’em off either… Right?”
I grumbled to myself, then absentmindedly sought agreement from Neriel. Knowing her personality, she’d snap back here for sure. Something like what’s the point of whining? Or she’d huff and say it was none of her business.
“……”
But no response came.
Ignoring me when it’s just us two? That’s too much. Deciding I had to say something, I turned my head.
“…Ah.”
That’s when our eyes met—hers on the rock beside me—for the briefest instant. Those purple irises flicked toward me, then darted away. I caught it clear as day. Her face was its usual near-expressionless mask, but the sigh that slipped from her lips betrayed something different.
“…I’ll light a fire now. Sit in front and dry your clothes.”
Wondering what was up, I tilted my head. She averted her gaze, gathered some branches piled in the cave corner with mana, stacked them, and ignited them.
Whoosh!
“Oh, thanks. But what’s with you? Since when do you care about stuff like this?”
“Who said it’s for you? I’m cold too.”
There we go. No way she’d light a fire just ’cause my clothes were damp. But it probably wasn’t just that either. The Neriel Marit I knew might be a prickly lone wolf, but she wasn’t heartless. Just look at the inter-class battle—she’d charged the front lines to save students, after all. She didn’t seem to hate people outright, yet her attitude was all snark. Weird personality.
Maybe.
No, not maybe. Definitely. There was that offhand comment from the Magic Tower Lord back then. It probably hid the reason for her thorny attitude.
But so what?
I had no interest in dredging up those memories or prying for the words she’d swallowed. Not because she seemed reluctant to share, or because I hated forcing it out of her in this trapped situation.
I just didn’t care.
Why she turned out this way, what secrets the Tower Lord kept, what deeper backstory lurked in Neriel Marit. None of that mattered to me. She was just the smug sole ruler under heaven, the Tower Lord’s one disciple, and Teleos Academy’s top first-year mage. Neriel Marit. No extra labels needed.
“Anyway, how many mana crystals you got?”
So I just tossed out a mundane question any student on this island might ask, flashing a grin.
Neriel’s nose tipped up instantly.
“Me? 1020. Probably the most of anyone here right now.”
“As expected, you’re on another level. I’m barely at 550. And even that’s from looting the ones after us, plus a few beasts and monsters on the way here.”
She’d been wandering solo, yet hit 1020? How many foes had she dropped?
“That’s your level. Don’t worry, though. I won’t bother stealing your mosquito-bite crystals.”
“Oh yeah? You think you could take ’em if you tried? All talk after I already beat you once.”
I’d hoped for a peaceful vibe, but she baited me as usual. Couldn’t let that slide. What right did a loser have to yap?
“Hmph. Fool me twice? Not in my book. And yeah, you got stronger over break… but still ape level. No match for me.”
“Wanna go right now? I was gonna hold back ’cause of the spot.”
“Fine by me. You sure, though? Losing ugly to your ‘slave master’… gonna be hard to show your face.”
Full provocation course today? Yeah, that’s Neriel Marit. I must’ve glitched seeing that unexpected side lately. No way this purple brat changed.
“Don’t cry like a baby after I beat you again?”
“You think you can?”
“No sweat.”
We shot to our feet, glaring. Tension crackled like we’d dive into combat any second. Our surging mana battered the cave walls, making the lone campfire flicker wildly.
I’d been itching for this rematch, hand drifting eagerly to my sword hilt—
Mana Crystal Count: 550
Survivors: 120
—Kieeeek!
The familiar shriek pierced the storm from outside, halting us cold.
“That sound…”
“What, scared of a monster cry? Need an excuse?”
Neriel snapped irritably, but hearing what I pegged as Korathos’s cry snapped me back to reality. Retracting my hand from my sword, I checked the bracelet on my left wrist. The numbers floated up.
Something was off. Survivors were over 150 when we met Neriel. How’d they drop by over thirty in this short time? We’d spent less than an hour foraging and holing up here.
If it were day two or three, sure—starvation or thirst forcing quits. But day one, not even half a day since landing, and nearly half gone?
The island wasn’t that monster-dense. Encounters weren’t constant.
Which meant…
Something’s rapidly thinning the student numbers.
Yeah, no other explanation. I didn’t know what yet. But if my gut was right, and factoring Korathos’s freakout earlier…
“…Neriel, thanks for the fire. Sorry, but rematch later. Got somewhere to be.”
Finishing my thoughts, I brushed off my somewhat drier clothes from the fire and turned.
She scowled, raising her voice. “Somewhere to be? In this rain? Called you ape so much your brain turned feral?”
“What can I say? That’s why I came here. Rain’s not letting up, and the young miss is worrying me. Gotta find her first and move out.”
Plus, her water spirit Lirua absorbed nearby moisture. That’d let us dodge the rain easy.
Mapping a plan mentally, I headed for the exit—then Neriel’s voice yanked me back.
“‘That’? What’s that mean? Sounds like you had another reason to come here.”
“None of your business.”
“I’ll decide that. Spill it.”
Always so nosy. Scratching my head awkwardly, I pointed to the bracelet on my left hand.
“Survivors dropping too fast. And earlier, the young miss and I were riding Korathos.”
“Korathos… That monster on the island?”
“Yeah. Her affinity’s high, so she fetched me on it. But the problem’s…”
I explained Korathos’s weird behavior at the end. A local heavyweight staring somewhere, freaking out with that shriek, and bolting.
Her eyes narrowed—not her usual scorn, but a researcher’s focus.
“Yeah, that’s fishy. I thought the survivor drop was too steep too.”
“You too?”
“Duh. Unless you’re a top fighter like me or smart enough to hide, you avoid fights and hole up here.”
True. Mana crystals were a goal, but survival was the main one. Quit or get downed, and you fail. So powerhouses like her, groups, or idiots roamed solo. Others hunkered in safe spots, nipping out for quick kills.
But that didn’t explain the sharp drop.
“Anyway, I’ll tag along.”
“You? Chill here. Might be nothing.”
“I gotta see mysteries with my own eyes. Or what? Hate interrupting your cozy time with the young miss you respect so much?”
What the hell, this purple brat. Ignoring the nonsense, I pondered. Not a bad idea. Her skills were top-tier, and if I was right, leaving her alone could be risky. Like with the young miss, better keep her in sight.
“Fine, come if you want. Let’s go, slave.”
“Lead on, master.”
First time she’s called me master. Hm, not bad. Guess I’ve got that kink.