Angel Hunt (4)
[Continental Calendar 997, March 2nd, 2:00 AM. Old School Building Rooftop.]
Whoosh.
A faint wind blows. Short white hair flutters, and the red hem of her robe billows dramatically behind her back.
Shring.
Esta assumes the stance of drawing her sword from her waist. No actual sword exists, but she grips a formless blade and thrusts it forward.
Vmmm.
Mana flows from Esta's hand, hardening into a rainbow-shimmering aura.
Sword Aura. Beyond mana taking physical form, it's the realm where it achieves the durability of orichalcum or mithril. Surpassing mere infusion of mana into a blade, it's forging a sword from mana itself—one that stands equal to any legendary sword.
Esta, who has forged her blade from this S-grade aura symbol—rare across the entire world—thrusts it straight forward.
Fsssh.
The sword begins to waver. As if self-destructing the aura-forged blade, the tip dissipates into a misty fog of mana, like rising heat haze.
With a single flick, Esta scatters her hand, annihilating the aura sword. Then, very slowly, she extends her opposite hand.
The same sword-gripping stance. But the blade emerging from that hand isn't a longsword exceeding 1 meter—it's a very short dagger, like one for peeling fruit.
Yet the mana forming that dagger bears no distinct hue: an achromatic shade, closest to light gray.
"Hmm."
Esta grips the dagger and swings it forward. It merely slices empty air, and when she thrusts deeply, the tip wavers, the aura scattering instantly.
"...Ahh. This is Esta."
Instructor Esta speaks to her left wrist.
"Success."
You too. At those words, Esta clenches her fist briefly.
"Yes, Mercenary King."
Esta's contact, Mercenary King Ederson Lionheart, responds in a heavy voice.
"Already assigning terms like that?"
Esta nods vigorously at Dean Ederson's words.
"Yes. Precisely. That's my thinking too."
Having once forged Non-Attribute Mana, its properties become clearer through direct experience than any explanation.
"Confirmed: what Unia said appears true. With this power, we might even slay angels."
"Mercenary King?"
Dean Ederson lets out a deep sigh.
"With your granddaughter there too, I doubt it's that dire. The real issue... is the students who'll target the Old School Building next."
Dean Ederson falls silent.
"Dean. Do you really intend to keep the Old School Building a lawless zone? A place beyond academy rules' protection? Where its students keep getting ambushed?"
"Even if problems arise later, we should amend the rules to apply dorm-like regulations to the Old School Building. To prevent students abusing them."
Grind.
Esta grits her teeth briefly.
"So you're saying leave the door open for blatant invasions? Instead of sneaky insults from the shadows, let them come straight at Angelica and the others like before?"
"Dean!"
Esta's eyebrows furrow sharply at Ederson's words.
"What do you...?"
"I trust your network, Mercenary King, but won't they stir even greater chaos?"
"The budget for hiring them—"
"......."
Personal funds. Ederson vows to use his own wealth for the academy's sake—to bolster the Old School Building's defenses and ensure student safety.
"...What do you hope to gain from going that far?"
"The students?"
"Raise talent to fight angels?"
"......."
"...Understood."
Esta nods gravely. Even as an S-grade, she's just one swordswoman—her options are limited.
"......."
"...None."
Esta answers frankly.
"If there's a commonality, it's the angels' appearance. But back then... it felt like the Goddess herself sent them down from heaven."
"Dean?"
"......."
In that instant, a figure flashes through Instructor Esta's mind. The boy who showed her that sword, ever so briefly. Dead, yet stepping forward with inexplicable confidence—not childlike, not like a Hapsderk, yet a Hapsderk.
"......."
Esta nearly utters the name unconsciously but clamps her mouth shut.
"Understood, Dean. For this training, shall we change locations? If we're investigating there..."
"Even if it means facing lethal threats?"
"......."
"Dean."
"...Understood. I'll protect the students my way."
Click. The link cuts.
Even that final voice sounds utterly drained.
"...The world's end, huh."
Apocalypse. A god directly sending angels into human bodies to exterminate mortals—humanity.
"The entire continent will descend into chaos."
Esdinas Academy's Old School Building is just the beginning.
"If only someone could give a clear answer."
Esta sighs deeply, turning her magic panel aside.
"These guys might... Huh?"
On the panel, beyond the lounge screen.
"...What are they doing?"
Esta freezes at the sight.
* * *
I press a back hug against Unia. Using every point of body contact, I intervene in her mana flow across her entire body, refining it.
The seven distinct manas are like wavelengths; tuning those seven frequencies into one line is the surest mental training for Non-Attribute Mana.
I merely erase disruptions in that flow with my own mana.
And so, after controlling her mana through full-body contact.
"How's it feel?"
Unia forms a lustrous gray sphere as large as her mana pouch.
"See? Easy, right?"
"......."
"Even I struggled with this. But with Phoenix's help, anyone can do it easily. It wasn't this advanced originally."
Unia presses the sphere between her palms, shrinking it from watermelon to melon size.
"Now, who wants to... Ah."
Unia starts to rise from my body, then.
"...Ahem."
She settles her hips back onto my thighs, clasping her hands forward.
"Let me show you once more. Before help, both of you try forming Non-Attribute Mana first."
"......."
Could it be? She's not reluctant to move aside and just wants to stay on my lap?
If so—
"Special class students."
The lounge door opens as Esta enters.
"We'll continue tomorrow. Dismissed for today. Go sleep."
"......."