Night of the Full Moon (5)

Dormitory B, the entrance to Titania Hall. Kyle's group pushes forward, shoving aside the cadets writhing on the ground.

For now, they've caught a breather. Kyle's group has successfully breached the entrance to Titania Hall. With things wrapped up here, it's time for the others to take the baton.

...Up until that point, everything's fine. But I nearly fell myself.

Thanks to Iri grabbing my arm just before I plummeted, I barely avoided the drop. Even so, she's clearly exhausted— she's just barely holding on.

"Nngh... Hup!"

I can't move a muscle. There are plenty of things to grab nearby, but I can't even reach for them. My arms are trembling so badly they feel like they don't belong to me. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠No surprise there—it's the aftermath of mana exhaustion.

Right now, the only reason I'm staying conscious is the system correction. My mana is regenerating, but it's still too faint. My mind is foggy, on the verge of blacking out.

I thought I'd gotten pretty strong, but I've still got a long way to go. Just look at Iri—she's standing firm, while I had to squeeze out every last drop of mana to fight. And the result? I'm the one groaning from mana exhaustion.

"Shion, hold on just a sec. I'll pull you up right now...!"

"No, I'm fine. Don't push yourself."

"Pardon...?"

A flicker of surprise crosses Iri's eyes. It's a rare look of outright shock on her face.

"You can't give up! I'll save you—just hold on a little longer...!"

With that, she musters her remaining strength. A searing pain shoots through my left arm, like it's about to rip off.

"No, really, I'm okay."

"You can live!"

She's misunderstanding something. I'm not trying to die—I'm seriously fine. It's not that I don't trust Iri. I'm just preparing for the worst case.

If anything, she's in more danger than I am right now. I've got my Glock in my right hand, so I'm somewhat stable. But Iri's barely keeping her balance on a crumbling rooftop, pouring her energy into holding me. One light impact, and her center of gravity will—

Slip.

"Whoa?!"

—shift, just like that.

The rooftop under Iri finally gives way. The spire, which had barely held its shape, collapses completely. Iri and I plummet to the ground amid the debris.

I immediately reach out with my left arm and grab Iri. Then I aim my Glock at the ground below.

I pull the trigger repeatedly. Until every spare round I loaded just in case is spent.

One shot, two shots, three.

Click— A faint vibration runs through my fingertips. All the pre-loaded rounds are gone.

The last one left is a wind-attribute magic bullet. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had it chambered to support Kyle's group, but since that guy's already inside Titania Hall, no need for it now.

I keep my index finger on the trigger. A gale erupts from the muzzle, shoving me and Iri upward mid-fall.

Our bodies lift briefly, slowing our descent.

"Guh...!"

"Ah..."

Of course, it doesn't cancel the impact entirely. Iri and I hit the ground face-first.

Lucky for us, it's a grassy patch near the dormitory.

"...Thought I was gonna die for real."

"If you can say that much, sounds like you're doing better than me."

"I'm a melee fighter, y'know. Stamina's my strong suit."

I rub my throbbing head and gaze up at the night sky. The spirits that filled the heavens are heading back to Titania Hall. Looks like Kyle's group is handling things properly.

I exhale a breath I'd been holding up to my chin.

Then Iri says something odd from beside me.

"It's all over now, right?"

"What are you talking about, Iri?"

I twist my body, propping up my upper half to look at her. I point toward Titania Hall, where the final battle is raging.

"Over? They've only just started over there."

"Huh...?"

"If you've got strength left, go join them."

"No need to— Fine, got it! Don't push me!"

Iri reluctantly stands, leaning on my back. She'd squeezed out her last reserves, so muscle pain would keep her groaning for a while.

I lay back on the grass like a pillow.

That's when my watch beeps.

A message from Kyle.

Once inside Titania Hall, he'd show me the internal situation. I'd passed on precautions from the rooftop and casually asked for this favor.

Good timing on the message—looks like they've entered the final phase without issues.

No energy to reply, so I tap the floating panel. The view from Kyle's eyes unfolds before me like bodycam footage.

'For now... it's done.'

My role ends here. Time for the protagonists to shine.

Kyle will face Lara Steelhiden from now on. If he follows the makeshift guide I wrote(?), they should take down the banshee without major casualties.

The rampaging spirits are just startled—they're not inherently hostile to humans. Attacking them would only ramp up the difficulty.

I had no choice since someone needed to draw aggro. Anyway.

If they commune with the spirits without hostility, reaching the banshee will be easier.

In the original story, there's a cutscene where they confront the banshee while lost in illusions midway. Even if the opponent switched from Serin Anette to Lara Steelhiden, the core shouldn't change.

Given the Kyle I met, he won't get overwhelmed even facing the banshee's true form. I can ease up a bit.

By lore, this banshee is a mass of vengeful spirits from nameless sacrifices at Arsen. As long as that holds, it can't beat Kyle.

It's not about matchup—it's something else entirely. If anything, 'Kyle Ivanstair' himself is the banshee's hard counter.

Kyle's trait [Will] applies positive buffs to those around him. His unbreakable will inspires strong motivation in others—like the passion and spirit of shonen protagonists that his character draws from.

"Justice prevails" and all that. It works even on ghosts with nothing but grudges left, so the more they talk, the weaker its resentment will grow.

Hell, it might even pass on before the professors arrive.

Bottom line: at this point, only Kyle Ivanstair can stop the banshee.

Ding.

Another message arrives. Not from Kyle—this one's from someone I'd been eagerly awaiting, in a different sense.

I tap the three photos first.

One shows fainted cadets tightly bound. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠other two: empty first- and second-floor hallways. In the corner of one, Kai Alma strikes a cringey middle-school-edgy pose.

Looks like it went smoothly. I'd worried other spirits might awaken from the banshee's influence, but Serin Anette's group will handle it.

That's why I split the teams that way from the start.

"Whoa, my arms are killing me..."

I stretch lightly, cracking my joints.

Crack—!

"Ow?!"

...I'll rest a bit.

The Grand Saint Chapel at the end of Titania Hall's first-floor lobby.

Kyle pushes open the creaking front doors and steps inside. Elin Beonard and Essili Silvergaden follow, hurriedly locking the doors behind them.

"Wait here a sec."

"Huh?"

"Got something to do."

Kyle immediately fiddles with his watch. Keeping the promise with Shion.

-There probably won't be any cadets on Titania Hall's first floor. They all flocked to Shanellia Hall.

-The banshee leading the ghosts should be deepest inside. Titania Hall has ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Grand Saint Chapel, so high chance it's there.

-Once you're in and things stabilize, connect the call. I might be able to help.

Ding!

The on-screen notification. Kyle taps the panel without hesitation.

A timer appears, and soon his view streams to Shion.

Before advancing, Kyle waves at the watch. There's some lag, but the connection holds.

As he tightens his shoelaces, a shadow falls over him.

"This isn't the time to space out! You see that?!"

Elin Beonard stands before Kyle, swinging his sword. The scene over his shoulder is beautiful yet menacing.

Fiery orbs of every color streak through the air. The spirits' afterimages sparkle like starlight.

"...Hold on."

Essili Silvergaden, aiming at the flying lights, lowers her bow.

"Why? Know something?"

"High spirits... why the hell are they here...?"

"High spirits? Those things?"

To Kyle, they just look like red, blue, black, and gray fireballs drifting about.

But not to Essili. She's the only marksman here—and a contractor long bound to spirits.

What look like mere will-o'-wisps to Kyle are vivid entities in her eyes.

"Ifrit and Elphin, Rocan and Igor. High spirits who've resided in Arsen since ancient times."

The lizard-shaped Ifrit. Beside it, the tiny water orb—Elphin, spirit of water. Then Igor, a hulking earth golem pile, and Rocan, a small whirlwind air spirit.

"They weren't always this feral...?"

Ruthless magic assaults them. Even Essili, who wields spirit arrows over regular ones, can't comprehend it.

These are basic elements—and the highest-ranked spirits known to roam the Grand Saint Chapel.

Completely berserk.

They loathe collateral damage, always moderating their power. Now they're rampaging like they're possessed.

Then Elin points his sword at one spirit.

"Isn't it that?"

A pitch-black aura clearly envelops them. And at its center, a blue-haired girl radiating the strongest presence.

Kyle steps up beside Elin.

Elin turns. "Kyle, where are you—"

"..."

But Kyle's eyes are utterly serious now—nothing like his usual immaturity.

"I knew it all along. Who are you? Why possess that girl and torment the other cadets?"

Overwhelmed by his intensity, Elin steps back. The hovering spirits retreat.

Lara Steelhiden, slumped with her head bowed, slowly rises.

"You wouldn't know even if I told you. No more words for you lot. This body's mine now."

"...What?"

"No matter what you say, I'm not giving it back."

So—

Lara raises her staff.

"Vanish quietly."

Water and wind, earth and fire. The high spirits of each element—known collectively as water-wind-earth-fire—charge from all sides.

At that moment, Kyle's watch chimes. A real-time message.

Water jets incoming from the front, gales from the side. As if anticipating this, Shion's message is curt and segmented.

Kyle skims it and shouts to Elin.

"The spirits are just spooked. Like scared wild animals."

Clang—!

The raging water jet could shred steel. Kyle blocks with his sword flat, then slices it apart.

"If you turn hostile, they'll turn on you. So stay calm and commune... commune?"

"Calm down how in this mess?! You think we've got time?!"

Elin grapples with wind spirit Rocan—his uniform's side torn open.

"Just wait. It's not over yet."

"Wait in this situation?! You got time for that?!"

They're out of sync, and it's a disaster. Fed up, Essili Silvergaden steps forward.

Rocan flares like it's about to strike—but Essili just extends her hand gently.

Elin yells in horror. "Essili, what the hell?!"

"Shut up and be quiet."

"What?!"

But then a fireball flies in. Elin grits his teeth, blocking it unwillingly.

Essili still reaches for Rocan. The gale looks ready to lacerate her arm—but

"Huh...?"

The wind meekly settles in her palm.

"Rocan, why are you so startled? I heard you don't get dragged into this stuff."

No reply. The wind in her palm swirls faintly—like a protest.

"You're not yourself right now. Arsen cadets are yours to protect, not attack."

Essili lowers her bow gently. Amid Elin and Kyle's stunned gazes, she cups the wind spirit softly with her other hand.

"So come back to the wind spirit Rocan I knew."

When Essili lifts her hand.

The vicious spinning top turns into a gentle spring breeze.