He's Completely Lost It
There had been an incident the night before—an assassin infiltrating the academy—but it wasn't enough to affect the Martial God Festival. Of course, since the one who'd been attacked happened to be a finalist, the military police had offered to let me forfeit if I wasn't up to competing. I declined. Attacked, they called it. I'd used magic twice, maybe, and the other side had all run off. Hardly worth forfeiting over.
After leaving the military police, I needed to prepare for the finals, which meant heading to the Royal Central Stadium first. The problem was that Riel, Phyllis, and I had all gone to the station first thing in the morning, which meant we'd barely thrown clothes on after being dragged out of bed. I was fine enough, but Riel—being a girl—needed a bit more time to get ready.
"Phyllis, I'll leave Riel to you."
"Leave it to me."
So Riel went back to the dormitory with Phyllis to get properly ready, and I came to the Royal Central Stadium alone. True to a day featuring no fewer than four championship matches, the arena was packed with spectators.
"Ah! Over here!"
Just then, I spotted someone waving in my direction. A girl with silver hair so dull it ran nearly gray, spilling out from beneath her hat—Emilia.
"I heard what happened! Is Riel okay?"
"She's fine. She went back to the dorm for now, but she'll be here soon."
"Haaa... thank goodness... really... When I heard an assassin had broken into Aurum Hall, I was so scared..."
Emilia let out a long breath, pressing a hand to her chest.
"Um... then I'll go check on Riel! I'm just too worried...!"
"Phyllis is with her, so she should be fine... but yeah, go ahead."
"Okay! Then... good luck in the finals!"
Emilia dipped her head in a quick bow and took off at a remarkable clip. Beastfolk, through and through—her running speed was no joke. She did seem to have thrown her hat on a little sloppily in her rush this morning, though. Well... even a loosely worn hat wasn't likely to come off, so she'd probably be fine.
I turned and took in the vast Royal Central Stadium once more. The original novel had only ever described it in prose, so seeing the arena with my own eyes was something else entirely—it was magnificent. That was where I would face Iris in the finals.
I brushed my fingers against the practice sword at my hip. Feeling the cold metal, I thought it through. This being a pure contest of swordsmanship, winning was probably out of reach. But maybe I could at least make it a good match. At the very least, I didn't want Riel to see me looking pathetic.
"In other words, you have done nothing wrong."
Alan had simply sat there, listening to Archbishop Marconi speak. But the longer the man went on, the more Alan's mind began to clear—and the more he sank into the Archbishop's words.
He was the Hero, born to stop the Demon Lord. He, the Hero, and Riel, the Priestess, were destined to be joined. And the demon who had crushed him, driven a wedge between him and Riel, and sought to revive the Demon Lord—
A moment's thought would have revealed it as baseless nonsense, without a shred of evidence to its name.
"Kyou Ventus... that bastard is the one behind it all..."
"Mr. Alan Ludwig. We of the Church can only apologize for not coming to your aid sooner."
But to Alan—who had suffered a bitter defeat, a crushing humiliation, and the wound of being rejected to his face by the girl he loved—Archbishop Marconi's words sounded like hope. Kyou Ventus was the one in the wrong. He was the Hero who would be joined with Riel and save the world. That alone was enough to make the Archbishop's words precious to him.
Archbishop Marconi placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head in apology. Alan looked at him, then slowly rose from his seat.
"Your Grace... what should I do?"
Hearing this, the Archbishop—still with his head bowed—let the corner of his mouth curl, just slightly. Fortunately, it seemed the "Hero" would take him at his word.
"What is it that you wish to do, Mr. Alan Ludwig?"
"I... I want Riel back. Riel, who's fallen for that bastard's cunning tricks..."
"Then the Church shall devote its full strength to aiding you."
Alan stared at Archbishop Marconi's face. The man spoke with an air of profound apology.
"Truthfully, we had intended to reclaim her somehow today... but we failed. I am truly sorry."
"...Is that so?"
From those words, Alan gathered that this morning's commotion had been the Church's doing—Archbishop Marconi included. They had clearly thrown considerable numbers at Riel, and until just moments ago, Alan had even been worried about her after what she'd been through. But once he framed it as an attempt to get Riel back for him, it no longer seemed to matter.
...Alan Ludwig was twisting further still.
"Kyou Ventus is far stronger than one might expect. I dislike saying this, but... your current strength alone would not be enough."
"...I... suppose not."
Alan ground his teeth. Riel... Riel was being deceived by those cunning tricks, and he didn't even have the power to save her. And so he yearned. For greater strength.
"Your Grace, can I become stronger?"
"You will. You are the Hero, after all."
When the Archbishop nodded with conviction, Alan closed his eyes and sank into thought for a moment. Then he went to the desk and pulled something out.
"Mr. Alan Ludwig, is that...?"
"A withdrawal application. I'd originally written it because I no longer had the will to attend, but..."
A smile spread across Alan's face—one so cold it could freeze.
"Looks like I'll be using it for a different reason."
"...Mr. Alan Ludwig. The Church welcomes you."
"I never thought you'd actually come all the way to the dorm, Emi!"
"I... I was just so worried."
Having returned to the dormitory and quickly finished getting ready with Phyllis's help, Riel joined Emilia, who had come all the way to the front of the building and was still catching her breath. Riel found herself comforting Emilia instead—the one who'd been so worried about her.
"Huh? Emi, your hat... isn't it a little loose?"
"Ah... you're right. I should put it on properly."
"Allow me to assist you."
"Ah... thank you!"
Only now realizing the state of her hat, Emilia hurried to fix it—and Phyllis, waiting behind them, stepped in to help. Emilia thanked her, a little flustered.
And so the three of them were making their way toward the Royal Central Stadium when—
"Riel!"
A man's voice, calling her name. Riel's expression hardened. Phyllis narrowed her eyes and slipped a hand into her sleeve. Emilia froze in place as well, startled. A moment later, Riel tried to ignore the voice and keep walking. Phyllis followed after her, and Emilia was about to hurry after them both, when—
"Riel! Wait!"
The owner of the voice came running and planted himself in front of them, blocking their path. Forced to stop, the three of them stood there. A bone-deep weariness washed over Riel. Her face twisted as she spoke.
"Didn't I tell you not to call my name like that? And not to talk to me?"
A clear refusal to engage. But the one blocking her path—Alan Ludwig—spoke to her as if none of that mattered in the slightest.
"Just listen to me, Riel."
"No. I'm not listening. Get lost."
"I left the academy as of today."
He was leaving the academy. At those words, Riel looked at him with a faintly surprised expression. But only for a moment.
"Good for you. So what?"
"Riel. Leave the academy with me."
"Wh... what?"
The sheer absurdity of it pulled a stunned sound from her mouth. Alan proceeded to explain, as if laying out a case—the story he'd heard from Archbishop Marconi. That he was the Hero, destined to be with Riel. That Kyou intended to revive the Demon Lord, and was deceiving Riel to that end.
As the story unfolded, each of them reacted differently. Phyllis showed nothing on her face, but a quiet fury had settled in her eyes. Emilia, who had until now regarded Alan as merely a bit weird and unpleasant, was looking at him the way one looks at a madman. And Riel was looking at Alan as if she were staring at something repulsive.
"Riel... I'm trying to save you..."
"I have nothing more to say to the likes of you. If you're leaving the academy, then get lost quietly—by yourself."
With that cutting remark, Riel walked forward. The moment she tried to ignore him and pass by, Alan seized her arm in a tight grip.
"What the hell are you doing? Let go of me!"
"Riel! You're being deceived!"
"Let go!!"
In that instant, Alan's hand was torn from her arm.
"Ghhhk!!"
Alan let out a strangled cry. Phyllis had seized his arm and wrenched it without a second's hesitation.
"How dare a commoner be so insolent."
"Aaaagh!!"
"Now that you've withdrawn from the academy, I will not tolerate any further discourtesy."
Phyllis swung her arm and flung him aside. Alan somehow kept his footing, enduring the pain as he looked up at the face of the maid who had subdued him. And in that moment, a face from his distant memories overlapped with hers.
"You... you...!"
"So you haven't forgotten. How impressive."
"Why are you here...?"
"Do I have any reason to answer you?"
Alan stood frozen in place, a hollow expression on his face.
"Phyllis, ignore that guy and let's go."
"Yes. Young Master's match will be starting soon, so we should hurry."
Riel tugged at Phyllis's arm impatiently, and Phyllis nodded and followed. Emilia hurried after them. As if Alan weren't even worth their attention, all three of them made to leave.
But Phyllis heard an ominous metallic sound from behind. It was so faint that Riel didn't seem to notice—though Emilia must have heard it, because she let out a gasp.
I didn't think he'd be this stupid...
The presence of Alan approaching from behind, sword drawn. Phyllis sighed and reached for the dagger hidden in her skirt. Come to think of it, this was convenient. He'd given her all the justification she needed by trying something like this. Should she just kill him here and now...?
That was what she was thinking when—
⟨ Lightning Shock ⟩
"Gyaaah!!"
A flash of searing light, Alan's strangled scream, and the clang of a sword hitting the ground. The noise was loud enough that Riel spun around in surprise. Phyllis quietly withdrew the hand she'd reached toward her dagger and turned as well.
A low-tier suppression spell: Lightning Shock. Hit by it, Alan had dropped his sword and collapsed to the ground, clutching his numb and tingling hand. And standing between him and Riel's group, the girl who had subdued him—
"Alan! What do you think you're doing?!"
Aria Owen stood there, her face drained of all color.