Will You Wear the Ring

“Why would you do something like that?”

Yuri asked in a firm voice. The thorn had to be plucked out before anything else could move forward. Tia seemed reluctant to blame Luca for what she'd done, which meant Yuri had no choice but to be the one to speak up.

Luca pushed out her lips in a pout.

“...Because I'm the only one falling behind.”

“Falling behind, you say.”

“Master only ever puts Yuri in charge of supervising.”

“That's because Yuri knows healing magic. Even if I'd volunteered, he wouldn't have picked me.”

Tia tried to reason with her calmly, but Luca still wore a sullen expression.

“Tia's amazing at magic too, she's even getting scouted for it... And all I know how to do is swordsmanship, so I figured I had to do something, anything.”

“Even so, this wasn't the way. Luca, I'm sorry we didn't look after you better. But you can't pull something like this just because you couldn't get time alone with Master!”

“Time alone?”

Luca tilted her head at Yuri's words.

“What promise?”

“Huh?”

“Wha—?”

Now it was Luca's turn to eye the two of them with suspicion. The tables had turned, and the flustered ones were Tia and Yuri.

“Did you two get to play with Master?”

“P-play... we... we, we didn't know anything about that?”

“Mm-hm. Was it fun?”

“It was wonderful. Master was so kind, and cute when he wanted to be. Oh, and he called me 'my Tia', did he mention that? And it's even recorded right here!”

When Tia obliviously pulled out her crystal orb and started chattering away, the other two fixed her with looks that could kill, and she shut her mouth at once.

Luca snatched the crystal ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠orb out of Tia's hand and played it back, then blew out a hot breath through her nose.

“I want to play with Master too.”

“Th-that was a counseling session with Master, so...”

“Hold on. Then why have you been raiding all the food stalls? Weren't you angry at me?”

“I am now.”

“One of the stalls you attacked, Luca, was where Tia was presenting her cooking research. She almost couldn't give her presentation yesterday because of it.”

“...Really? I didn't know. Sorry.”

Once the truth sank in, Luca's mood darkened. Tia waved her hands and broke into a bright smile.

“Don't worry about it! It all worked out in the end. So what exactly is going on?”

Luca reached down and picked up the hunk of meat lying on the floor of the warehouse.

“Don't eat it. It's contaminated.”

“Poison? Where...”

Tia measured the residual mana with a detection spell.

“This isn't just poison! It's black magic!”

“Black magic, you say?”

“Luca, did you already know?”

Luca shook her head at Tia's question.

“Whoever it was tried to hide the spell, but they can't fool my eyes. There's black mana lingering in it.”

“Luca, don't tell me every meal for the past few days has been like this?”

“Only some of the festival stalls. Someone's been deliberately infecting them.”

“Black magic that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠targets an unspecified crowd is dangerous! You should have told us right away! Why were you trying to handle it alone?”

“...Because I have to work hard.”

“Oh, Luca.”

Tia pulled the bowing Luca straight into her arms. She had always known Luca was clumsy about taking shortcuts—but that same stubborn steadiness was one of her greatest virtues.

“You've been through so much. We should have been looking out for you better.”

“I'm sorry...”

Luca leaned comfortably against Tia's chest, looking over at Yuri as she answered.

“It's fine.”

Seeing Luca's attitude left Yuri both relieved and heartbroken. After all, in a sense it had been her own rivalry that set off the fierce competition at the Silver-Blue Festival. But the black magic was the more urgent matter now.

“We have to tell Master right away. If it's truly black magic and not some cruel prank, this is a serious problem.”

“Yes. And while we're at it, let's find out one more thing—who exactly Master is meeting today.”

At Tia's words, the atmosphere among the three of them flipped entirely. The heavy air that had settled over the warehouse began to swirl, sharp and fierce.

“He did say, didn't he. Someone impersonating me to meet with Master—what nerve.”

“I want to see this person's face.”

“Everyone has their weapons, right?”

“Kill them?”

“No! We spare their life.”

“Confirmed. We'll try to keep them alive.”

Luca drew her sword and took the lead with a bold flourish. Tia and Yuri gathered their staff and gauntlets, and the three of them strode out of the warehouse. Emerging from the shadows, wicked smiles curled across all three of their lips.

“Heh heh.”

“Hahaha.”

The bright sunlight lost its brilliance before the murderous gleam of their eyes.

Fsssh...

The drifting silver-blue petals crumbled to powder in the torrent of battle aura pouring from them.

“Found him at last.”

It was while we were searching the fifth food stall that we finally spotted the suspect. Disguised as an ordinary festivalgoer, the man had been inscribing a black magic circle in the warehouse; the moment our eyes met as he emerged, he shattered a window and bolted.

I'd struck yesterday's raided stalls from the list, predicted his route from today's reconnaissance, and swept the likely paths—and the answer had been there waiting. Chasing him down was the right call, though the man was fast too. His nametag read Grand Mage, so he clearly had real skill. He was casting reinforcement magic on his legs to boost his speed.

“Instructor, if you please.”

“The fiend who ruined my breakfast.”

Aisha's eyes blazed. She drew a dagger from her bag, gripped it with practiced ease, and shot forward. Where the short blade fell short, she filled the gap with aura, shaping it into a full-length greatsword.

So aura can be used that way. Remarkable.

“Damn it, the Sword Saint?! This is far too soon!”

The black magician blanched at the sight of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Aisha bearing down on him. He ground his teeth, then finally seemed to reach some grim decision and flung both hands wide—pressing his palms together, which had a black sigil branded into them.

FWOOOOM—!!

Black mana erupted, and the black magician let out a scream.

“AAAAGH—!! I offer my soul—descend here, now—!!”

It happened in an instant. The man's body went up in black flames, and his soul alone remained to construct the spell. And it wasn't only him. Screams rose from every corner of the academy.

“Two hundred... no, roughly fifteen hundred.”

“Wh-what did you say?”

“That is the number of souls gathering into the sky as we speak. Everyone who ate food made from ingredients inscribed with the spell during the festival is being affected.”

“What in the world...!”

“Vile. To target a festival where crowds gather like this.”

Aisha clicked her tongue. An enormous magic circle had been constructed in the sky—pitch black. Reading the strings of the spell script, it was unmistakably not a magic of the human realm.

KWAAAAANG!

Countless souls were sucked inward, and with a detonation, an intense darkness bloomed.

─Ssshhh...

Then a single silhouette descended from within, standing proudly in the very spot where the black magician had been.

“An imperfect summoning. I emphasized time and again that I required ten thousand souls.”

Red skin, flamboyantly curved horns, and a modern, impeccably tailored suit and shoes.

A demon.

I checked the nametag.

The nametag's form was different from a human's. That meant demonkin.

“A demon? Wait. A Grand Duke—that would mean...”

“Second Rank.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

Aisha cried out in shock. It was an understandable reaction. I was startled myself.

Second Rank. An upper-tier demon—one could reasonably call it near the very top of the command structure.

“Hmmp. No matter.”

The demon murmured to himself and raised his index finger. At its tip, an ominous, jet-black miasma began to gather. Even at a glance, the density was staggering—like a black hole crushed and compressed into a single point. He intended to blow the entire academy sky-high, words be damned.

One thing had become certain: the academy was under attack by a demon. Most likely the Succubus Queen's.

“Kgh!”

I caught Aisha's arm as she thrust out her hand and made to charge the demon head-on.

“Professor?! Why would you—”

It did appear to be an imperfect summoning, but given that demon's particular nature, a reckless frontal assault was not a sound strategy. First, we needed to stop that ominous-looking attack, then devise a plan.

I stepped in front of the demon.

He wasn't sparing me so much as a glance, as if a trifling little creature deserved none of his attention.

Then I would simply have to turn his gaze.

“How serenely aloof. I am Baron Wicker Phedia of the Dengliwood Empire, presently holding the Chair Professorship at Caesus Academy.”

I offered the demon a greeting in full accordance with their own etiquette. The demon turned his eyes to me. He halted the spell he'd been casting and let the miasma gutter out, then returned my greeting with the same formal courtesy.

“A pleasure. I am Grand Duke Astaroth, the faithful Second-Rank demon who serves the Succubus Queen, sovereign of the Seventy-Two Demon Thrones.”

Watching us, Aisha wore an utterly dumbfounded expression.

“What on earth...?”

“Demons are a race that prizes courtesy above all. When greeted with proper manners, they are obliged to answer in kind.”

I stepped a pace closer to the demon and opened a light conversation.

“A splendidly dignified suit, Grand Duke. Wherever did you have it made?”

“Baron, have you ever visited the Demon Realm? Unlike the human lands, we have no shortage of skilled tailors.”

“There is a clothing shop here run by a craftsman named Montreal. Since you've come all this way, I would recommend paying it a visit.”

“Human fashion is hopelessly outdated. It holds little interest for me. Now then.”

Astaroth brusquely cut off our conversation and began recharging his miasma. That was the moment.

“Target spotted!”

“A demon has been summoned! Open bombardment from the first wave!”

The academy security force had arrived. The vanguard squad, sprinting in at full speed, unleashed spells and loosed a volley of arrows.

“Hm. About the right measure.”

The demon lightly raised a finger and activated his spell. A wall of miasma unfurled around him, and the incoming spells and arrows were swallowed and converted into miasma. In the same breath, the demon fired the gathered energy back as counter-shots.

“Aagh!”

“Gwaaah!”

Explosions bloomed, and the security troops fell like autumn leaves. Every one of them was a capable fighter holding at least a 3-Star rank—yet it availed them nothing. No, precisely because they were skilled, it was worse.

“Damn you.”

I held Aisha back as she made to leap forward once more.

“What is the meaning of this, sir?”

“Grand Duke Astaroth is an Exploiter. He possesses a trait that absorbs his opponent's power—the stronger they are, the more he drinks in.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The stronger the technique or spell used against him, the more he absorbs and converts into miasma, growing stronger in turn. There is a limit, of course—but a slash imbued with a Sword Saint's aura would very likely be absorbed.”

“And how could you possibly know that?”

“Because I'm a professor.”

Astaroth is one of the mid-bosses who appears in the DLC. I'd read on the wiki that he had a notoriously tricky method of clearing.

“Then how are we to attack him?”

“Use attacks he cannot exploit. Basic techniques, or First-Tier magic.”

“How could anything so paltry possibly bring down a Second-Rank demon?”

“It suffices if your raw strength or mana is overwhelming.”

“Then might I simply cut him down without channeling aura?”

“Any blade swung by the Sword Saint inevitably carries technique within it, however you try. You would have to recite an incantation for spells as well, wouldn't you.”

“Ghk! Th-that... is unfortunately true!”

Aisha flustered like a child whose embarrassing past had been dragged into the light.

“The summoning ritual is incomplete. If we defeat the demon, the souls used to call him should return to their original bodies. He cannot be operating at full power. Let us work out another means of bringing him down.”

Astaroth swung his head around to look at me.

“Tedious. Is everyone here clad in nothing but threadbare rags?”

“Fashion sense is relative, wouldn't you say? It changes with the times.”

“Your stalling ends now, human. Wag that tongue no further.”

The demon declared coldly. As if he no longer owed me any courtesy, he began recharging his miasma once more.

FWOOSH!

Flames burst from the demon's temple. He flinched slightly, furrowing his brow, then shook his head and glared at me.

“You could not absorb it?”

I flicked a small flame off my fingertip.

“Never seen a Fireball before? It's a First-Tier spell.”

“You claim a mere Fireball dealt damage to me, a Grand Duke? What monstrous bravado.”

“Should have kept up your manners.”

The Sage's magic circuit is rather handy after all.

“Hmm.”

The demon had registered me as an enemy. He seemed to have judged that he could not attack the academy until I was disposed of.

Frankly, I felt the same about him—this one would be no pushover. Magic still didn't come easily to me, after all.

A sword would serve better.

“Lady Aisha.”

“Ah—yes?”

I drew an item out of my Item Box. It was a pair of rings.

With this, I could borrow Aisha's strength and fight him myself. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠As a swordsman I rely on fundamentals alone, which means I can fight Astaroth effectively.

I slipped one of the two rings onto my finger and held the other out to Aisha.

“Would you do me the honor of wearing this?”

For some reason, the dagger slipped from Aisha's hand and clattered to the ground.

I detected no sign that she'd been disarmed by force, though.

Aisha slowly sank to one knee before me, looked up with glistening eyes, and answered.

“...Yes. Gladly.”

She said yes. Well, that's a relief.