Whitey
The evening of the duel.
An investigation had begun into the Blow Rampage — the incident that had smashed the arena to pieces and sent the spectators into a panicked evacuation.
This time, they had decided to run the inquiry through the Faculty Council. The duel had been hosted by the Student Council's Student Welfare Department and External Affairs Department, and both Julbert and Greig, presumed to have been deeply involved, were themselves members of the Student Council. Some argued that no one in the audience had been hurt and that the whole thing had been unforeseen, so it ought to be written off as a mere mishap. Others insisted the Student Council's power had swollen far too large, and that the school needed more than an investigation — it needed its entire structure torn up and rebuilt.
The inquiry had two chief aims. One was to fix responsibility and sort out who was in the wrong. The other was to determine just what the White Sphere that had appeared during Blow's rampage actually was.
And so Blow Deblique, body and mind both perfectly sound, was made to lie in the recovery room all the same.
"If I piece together what Jane told me... that White Sphere does seem close to a spirit."
Mnevoir — long black hair, eyes forever half-lidded, dark circles that left their own impression — looked from Blow to Jane, who was attending him, and back again. She currently taught Understanding Spirits at the school, and for all that she was an academy instructor, she ranked among the finest researchers in the academic world.
"When I lost consciousness, I definitely felt as if I'd gone to some other place."
"Was it like a dream?"
"That's the closest thing to it."
"Then what did that place you went look like?"
"Dark. Like the Realm of Night."
"The Realm of Night... hmm."
"I want to stress this again. I had no idea I would end up like that. I knew even less that the White Sphere existed."
"That you have no spirit is something I know better than anyone. When you collapsed during the last summoning ritual, we ran investigation after investigation, and that was the provisional conclusion we reached. When you fell, I did everything I could, and so did the school. You may not have felt it, but..."
As Mnevoir let the words trail off, Blow shrugged.
"Well, that was probably all the school could do. I understand. And I did wake up, in the end."
"Thank you for understanding. For now, my position — and the school's — is that we ought to study that White Sphere. The one inside you now... no. The one that appears to be deeply bound up with you. We need to find out what it is."
"Fine by me. Honestly, I'm dying to know what that thing really is, too."
This was already the third time he had met that damned White Sphere. Still, this time he hadn't watched it open its mouth, so maybe it wasn't all bad. Then again, the memory of it was truly grotesque. Just calling the image back sent a chill crawling over his whole body.
"People often confuse what they don't understand with what they're afraid of."
"You're right about that."
"Good. Then let's go back. From the day of the Spirit Summoning Ritual until the moment you woke — can you tell me what happened, in detail?"
Blow turned over how much of what he had actually lived through he ought to say, then decided to stick to a simple story: he had been in a dark space, and then he had been summoned back. He was certain that speaking of the other world would bring nothing good. With that settled, he began with the night before the ritual, when he had drunk himself senseless.
The moment the account reached the instant just before the rite, Mnevoir, unable to hold it in any longer, exploded.
"So during the Spirit Summoning Ritual, you didn't even recite the incantation. You cheated your way through it?"
"Haha... I'm sorry."
"Blow Deblique. You really... haah."
Revulsion flickered in Mnevoir's eyes, and Blow could only smile, awkward and thin.
"I'm going to have to add another rule to the manual. An incantation exam before the ritual..."
"You could still cheat, though—"
"Quiet."
She looked genuinely furious. Blow decided it was wiser to steer the talk elsewhere.
"So you think that had an effect?"
"Of course it did. Do you have any idea how sensitive that incantation is? The place you went that day may not even have been the spirit realm. The sphere you summoned may not be a spirit at all, but something unknown — something we don't understand. A being from an entirely different world, for instance."
The more he listened, the more hopeless it sounded. Blow swallowed a sigh.
"I may not know the details, but I can tell I ruined it."
"Yes. You understand well enough."
"I'm sorry."
"In any case, Blow Deblique — we're thinking of naming that White Sphere the Spirit of Space. Is that all right with you?"
"Sure. Doesn't matter to me. You could even call it Whitey..."
At the word Whitey, Mnevoir stared at him with a perfectly straight face. The joke he had tossed out to loosen the air fell flat, and Blow fidgeted pointlessly with the blanket.
"...It mediated space, after all, and from what I hear yesterday's blow was delivered through space as well. So the name seems right."
"Then let's go with that. I'm fine either way."
"By any chance... could you perform the incantation you used then, one more time—"
Blow's face said plainly that there was no world in which he remembered it. Worn out, Mnevoir let out a deep sigh and shook her head.
"Right... that was a ridiculous thing to ask."
They spoke a little longer after that, but most of it amounted to going over, once more, what had happened during the duel.
"I'd like us to talk about once a week, for the research. Would that be all right?"
"As long as it isn't during shop hours, I don't think it'd be a problem."
"Ah, that's right. You said you'd become a shopkeeper."
"Yes. I sell potatoes. I'll be selling other things soon, too."
The confidence in his voice was nothing like what had come before. Arms folded, Mnevoir breathed out long and slow.
"I keep meaning to stop by. Truly."
"Everyone says that. It's good — you should come try it."
"Is there a faculty discount?"
"No."
The answer was so flat that a dry laugh escaped her, and she rose from her seat.
"The way you answer so straight, I'd say your mind is definitely intact."
"Still, if you come, Teacher, I'll take something off."
"All right. Thank you. I'll have my assistant get in touch."
With that, Mnevoir left.
Jane, who had been listening in silence at his side, held out a peeled apple.
"Would you like an apple?"
"Yeah. But... is everyone all right?"
He remembered them clearly — the ones who had been gathered around him the moment he woke. All of them, letting out breaths of relief behind the soft give of Hervena. Scratching his head, Blow took the apple she offered.
"Yes. Everyone pushed themselves too hard, but they seem to be recovering. And no one in the audience was hurt, either."
"That's a real relief. But Jane — didn't you step out for a bit earlier?"
"Yes. They said they needed a witness statement."
"They didn't ask anything strange, did they?"
Worry edged his voice, as if something might have gone wrong, and Jane answered at once.
"They only asked about yesterday's duel. They did say they might call me in a few more times."
"How's the mood at school?"
"A complete uproar, what else."
"Figured."
Something in the lightness of his tone pulled Jane's mouth into a flat line. From Blow's side of it, though, there was nothing to be done. He had passed out in the middle of a duel, and when he opened his eyes Hervena had been right there in front of him. His body had even fully recovered.
"Most of Björn Arena was destroyed, so for a while Magic Offense and Defense will be held in Petrus Hall."
"Yeah? That Rachel must've smashed the whole place."
"I'm sorry, but you destroyed all of it, Young Master."
A bead of cold sweat slid down his spine. He asked, carefully.
"They didn't say I have to pay for it, did they?"
"No. From what I hear, they're leaning toward covering it out of this event's admission takings — a few of the people who have to answer for your rampage."
"Hm? Who's taking the blame?"
"Professor Arhudin, and Julbert's Mertios family, are supposedly shouldering almost all of it."
"Well, Golan from External Affairs is a commoner. Tell him to pay damages and his back would snap. But fixing the building ought to come out of the school budget, shouldn't it? Isn't this school pretty relaxed about things that happen because of magic?"
Jane shook her head, firm.
"Julbert lost a great deal of standing this time. He'll have to do at least that much."
"Really? That bad?"
"I hear Professor Arhudin is even being suspended."
"Poor guy."
"He's the one who should have borne the most responsibility when something went wrong in the duel."
Looking back, there had been plenty about the judging that didn't sit right. Of course, once he had gone on a rampage he had gained nothing and only lost. He reeled me in. Julbert's oily face flickered through his mind, and he asked her:
"But does Julbert losing his reputation actually change anything?"
"It isn't something else. It's about when you went on a rampage."
"Yeah."
"Back then, Senior Julbert never came up to the arena, did he?"
"Right. Only Senior Yulia and Rebecca came up."
"The person who should have taken responsibility stayed off the front line."
"So Senior Julbert didn't do anything at all?"
"They say he directed the spectators out. Even so, it wasn't much of a look."
Blow nodded and picked up another apple.
"Julbert's ended up in a bad spot. And there he was, talking about running for student council president."
"Thanks to that, Senior Yulia — whose momentum broke after the last Academia — seems to have caught a full updraft."
"Something must have happened at this year's Academia."
"Ah. You were asleep then, so you wouldn't know. She entered the school's championship match, and Rachel Campbell beat her in a single blow."
"That orange-haired one?"
"Yes."
The massive black greatsword rose in his mind, and Blow clicked his tongue.
"That woman... she was something else, wasn't she? Figures. Nobody who walks around carrying a greatsword like that is ordinary."
"She seemed... a little unusual in temperament."
"Come to think of it, all sorts of things must have happened at school while I was laid up. I never even thought to look into any of it."
"I assumed you wouldn't have anything to do with the school anymore..."
Jane's words trailed off, and Blow waved a hand to say it was fine.
"But how do you know all this? Every little thing."
"I ran into Skadi on my way back from the witness interview."
"Yeah? What's she doing now?"
"It's Monday, so she went to class."
"No — I was wondering if she was too hurt to come."
"Nobody seems to be feeling their best, but it doesn't look bad enough to keep them out of school. Skadi had a bandage on her right arm, too."
"That's bad."
Little by little, the thought of facing them turned his stomach. Blow swallowed dryly.
"Also... when Skadi heard that sphere might be a spirit, she seemed really angry."
"Why on earth would she be? I had no idea. None."
"Well, Skadi doesn't seem to see it that way."
Still feeling the sting of it, Blow thought for a moment, then stretched his right hand forward and chanted the spirit-summoning magic he had learned before the ritual.
⟨ Withdraw ⟩
The instant he did, Jane's eyes went wide as a startled rabbit's, and she stared at him in sheer disbelief.