Behemoth Subjugation Complete

A shrill tinnitus tore at my eardrums. My nostrils were stuffed full with the metallic stench of blood and acrid dust. The massive mountain range filling my vision writhed as one.

No, it wasn't a mountain range. It was the back shell of Behemoth, the catastrophe-class beast said to have crawled up from the depths of hell. Hundreds of holy knights had erected barriers while the artillery barraged it with mana cannons, but they couldn't pierce a single scale. The soldiers' screams and prayers of despair mingled, turning the battlefield into pandemonium.

I sat atop a hill, out of the beast's line of sight, in a folding camp chair. I'd stuffed noise-canceling earplugs, coated in mana, deep into both ears. On my lap rested a pair of black dragon leather gloves, still warm from their owner's body heat, placed neatly there.

Just before heading out to subjugate it, Reina had taken them off herself and handed them to me with a casual, "Hold these for a sec." They were her safety device—and her power limiter.

"...It should be wrapping up about now."

I pulled a pocket watch from my breast pocket and checked the time. 3:15 PM. End of class bell.

The moment I stood, brushing the dust from my clothes—

Whooooom! The air screamed and shuddered. Behemoth's massive foreleg was about to smash through the holy knights' barrier when a chilling purple flash streaked across the overcast sky.

At its source hovered a petite silhouette, silver hair whipping in the wind. The lady of House Astrea, humanity's ultimate weapon: Reina de Astrea.

In her hands was a greatsword larger than she was tall: Hesperos.

Reina gripped the hilt and lightly—oh so lightly—mimed a vertical downward slash from midair toward the ground. No flashy sword arc, no burst of mana. Just...

The weight of space itself shifted.

Kwaaaaaang—!!!

"Guhhh!"

"Get down! Everyone, hug the dirt!"

An immense mass poured down like a waterfall. It was as if an invisible star had plummeted straight onto Behemoth's head. The solid earth rippled like water, and the ground within a hundred-meter radius sank in a perfect circle.

Kiiiiieee—!

Behemoth, the beast that could shatter castles and shave mountains, couldn't even scream properly. Its colossal bones and flesh crumpled like paper under the "gravitational pull" and "mass" erupting from Hesperos. No blood sprayed. The overwhelming gravity flattened even that to the dirt.

One strike. The catastrophe was erased.

I casually removed my earplugs and pulled out a leather-bound notebook and fountain pen from my pocket. I wet the nib with the tip of my tongue, then scribbled away.

I paused mid-number, gazing down at the massive crater, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Haa. Looks like I'll have to scrap last month's budget again. Disciplinary committee's gonna love this one."

Dust clouds began to clear at the crater's center. Reina emerged, staggering ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in her silver plate armor.

"Ooooh...! Sword of Astrea!"

"Agent of light! You have saved us!"

The holy knights and priests, sprawled flat on the ground, lifted their heads one by one. They clasped their hands in fanatic worship, sobbing toward Reina. Awe, terror, infinite reverence swirled in their eyes.

But Reina ignored their praises, her unfocused purple eyes scanning the empty battlefield desperately. Searching for something.

Then our gazes met—me standing on the hill.

Life flooded her vacant eyes in an instant.

"Cadel!"

She beamed and kicked off the ground. The problem was her physical specs. Legs that endured hundreds of kilograms of pressure launched her in joy, shattering the earth like a bomb blast.

'Crazy girl, throttle down! Throttle, I said!'

I tracked her cannonball trajectory and instinctively rolled aside.

Crash! Crunch!

The sturdy tree behind where I'd stood snapped like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a toothpick and flew off. Covered in dirt, I looked up to see Reina, who'd demolished it to stop, pouting down at me.

"Cadel. Why'd you dodge?"

"Reina. Didn't your teacher tell you not to run in the halls...? No, watch where you're going! If I hadn't moved, my spine would've been tree fodder right now."

I stood, dusting off my filthy pants. Reina marched right up without a hint of apology and thrust her bare, gore-smeared hands at me—Behemoth's blood caked everywhere. Expecting the usual: I'd wipe them clean and glove her up.

I clicked my tongue and meticulously cleaned the blood from between her pale fingers with a handkerchief. Then I fetched the dragon leather gloves from my pocket and fitted them snugly over her hands. The clear ritual signaling the end of destructive combat and return to normalcy.

"Anyway, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you went out without checking the mirror again, didn't you?"

I pinched my brow and scanned her gloved form top to bottom. Her wind-tousled silver hair was one thing, but the breastplate of her mithril plate armor was the issue.

"Buttons and buckles ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠misaligned again. I told you to dress properly."

"Swinging a sword like this keeps my shoulder from popping and my gut in check. C'mere."

"Okay."

I beckoned, and she stepped forward obediently. I felt thousands of holy knights staring in shock.

'Wh-what the hell is that guy? The merciless Lady Astrea acting like a tame puppy...!'

'No way that nobody's the true handler controlling the hero's power!'

Their murmurs rang like hallucinations, but I ignored them. Ten years as a high school teacher busting girls for makeup and skirt lengths in my past life? This was nothing compared to parent observation days.

Click, clank.

With practiced hands, I unbuckled her armor in sequence, realigned the fittings, and cinched them tight. Her steady breaths filtered through the cold metal.

"There. Breathe. No more pinching, right?"

"Yeah! Cadel, you're the best."

Comfortable now, her mood lifted. She suddenly shoved her head into my chest. Silver crown of her head against my chin. Clear signal: pet me.

I reached out with a helpless sigh, ruffling her soft locks. Her shoulders shook with a little "Hehe."

"Um, excuse me... Hero. And Sir Evans."

A tentative voice interrupted. A high priestess in silver vestments approached, holy water infused with healing mana in hand.

"Thank you for your great deed. If any part of your noble bodies is injured, allow me to cast healing magic..."

The moment she reached toward me and took another step—

Reeeen.

Reina froze mid-nuzzle. The massive greatsword Hesperos, not even sheathed, hummed ominously with purple light.

I glanced down reflexively. Reina side-eyed the priestess without turning her head. The warmth in her purple eyes vanished, replaced by cold, emotionless killing intent. Pebbles at the priestess's feet lost gravity, floating five centimeters up.

The priestess blanched paper-white and gasped.

'No, no. Crushing a holy church priestess here turns this into a diplomatic nightmare.'

I quickly wrapped my arms around Reina's shoulders, blocking her view. Then flashed the priestess a perfectly calculated business smile.

"We'll gratefully accept the goodwill, but no healing needed. As you see, the hero's nerves are sharp from subjugation aftereffects—rest first."

"Ah, y-yes...! Rest well!"

She backpedaled frantically and fled without looking back. The pebbles thudded down.

"Reina."

I called in my low, firm homeroom teacher voice. She finally looked up, killing intent gone, back to vacant innocence.

"Yeah?"

"No glaring contests with randoms. It's tiring."

"She tried rubbing her scent on you first."

"She was offering healing magic. And 'scent'? Am I a dog? C'mon, back to the dorms for a wash and chow. Menu's that wild boar barbecue you were singing about."

"Meat! Barbecue!"

Her eyes curved like crescent moons at "barbecue." She laced her gloved fingers through mine and squeezed tight.

Crack.

Without the gloves, her joyful grip failure would've shattered my finger bones. Thankfully, the daily safety measure kept it to a dull ache.

"Ow... fingers, fingers breaking. Ease up, please."

"Nope. Too many people—I'll lose you. Gotta hold tight."

You're the one who'd get lost, not me. I wanted to retort, but her iron grip shut me up.

We walked past the corpse-strewn field and cheering soldiers. Reina stared straight ahead. Wreckage or boulders in her path? She bulldozed them in a perfect straight line. Human bulldozer incarnate.

I dodged collapsing debris, yanking her trajectory this way and that, sweating bullets. The world's strongest—and craziest—hero hummed an unknown tune, clutching my hand tight.

Past-life night-self-study runaway hunter, high school teacher? Reincarnated, still leashing this top-of-the-class airhead.

"Cadel, barbecue tomorrow too?"

"Tomorrow, greens. Jawline's vanishing."

"No way! No meat, no eats!"

Astrea's mad carriage (blade) and Evans' reins (sheath). Looks like my old man passed down not a sheath, but brutal steel reins.