The Commission (1)

Evening, at the outdoor training grounds.

I blocked a strike from the gray-brown-haired barbarian Turak and went sprawling.

Turak was helping me with my sword training.

His strength is absolutely filthy…!

And that was him holding back. Incredible.

"Failed again."

"Y-yeah…."

I had pulled off the Light Wing Sword technique Opening Wing during the subjugation test and told him I wanted to practice it. Turak had only tilted his head and muttered, Is that supposed to be impressive…?

Whatever the case, once I handed over five pieces of jerky….

— If it is a comrade's training, then of course Turak must help. That is what a warrior does.

He had accepted my request with that solemn, grave, dead-serious delivery.

By fixing the direction of his attacks in advance and drilling the counter over and over, I had managed a success rate of about fifty percent so far.

After experiencing the technique firsthand, Turak had been genuinely impressed — and ever since, he had been sparring with me in earnest.

I tightened my grip on the sword, pushed myself back up, and settled into stance.

"All right. Again."

"Understood."

My motivation was burning hot.

And for good reason.

I'm sure of it. The instincts from when I'm a Swordmaster carry over to me as I am now.

This whole session had confirmed it.

If I had to put it in game terms, it was like personally executing a veteran player's high-difficulty control scheme, then trying to recreate it with my own hands.

I couldn't pull it off as cleanly as a master yet — lack of polish, mostly — but I could feel what that level of control was supposed to be like.

Going forward, whenever I entered a dungeon, it would be worth learning all kinds of sword techniques in Swordmaster form.

Assuming gates are common, that is….

Unfortunately, gate appearances were hardly a frequent phenomenon.

On top of that, there was no way to know when, where, or how one would open — and even if one did, the odds of me finding out about it were slim.

In the end, this is the only path.

In the story of Elwi, sudden gates cropped up all the time, and I had every one of those details locked down.

Which meant planting myself firmly on the story's stage was also the fastest route to getting stronger.

"Jerky… no. Comrade."

"What?"

Out of nowhere, Turak jerked his chin toward something behind me. I turned my head.

A female cadet came into view, magenta half-up hair swaying as she walked alongside a small-framed friend.

Elise Lorendia. The protagonist of For Elise.

"That one was watching you just now, then left."

"?"

Elise was?

I half-lidded my eyes and looked back at Turak.

"No way…. Why would the top student be looking at me?"

"It is true."

"She probably just glanced over ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠while passing by."

"If it had been a passing glance, Turak would not have bothered mentioning it."

"…For real?"

Turak nodded.

He wasn't the type to lie about something like this, and those eyes of his were trustworthy enough.

Obviously Elise isn't looking at me as a guy.

We had never built any kind of connection.

The odds that she had taken one look at my face ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and felt romantic interest were also approximately zero percent. The Elise of right now had not the slightest interest in dating.

I almost felt sorry for all those outstanding male leads who had fallen for her. Not one of them succeeded in their courtship through to the end of the story.

And she still had no clue that I was the one watching her back from the shadows, either.

So then, most likely….

Is she hung up on what she saw during the subjugation test?

I remembered the way Elise had stared at me with open suspicion after the test ended.

Fair enough. For a dead-last cadet, I had put on a performance that didn't fit the bill.

I'll keep an eye out for now.

This wasn't the time to stand around lost in thought about Elise.

I threw myself back into training.

"Ugh, I'm dying…."

After finishing training with Turak's help, I dragged myself back to the dormitory.

I was the one who had asked for help, sure — but somewhere along the way Turak had gotten fired up, barking "Ignite your fighting spirit, comrade!" and driving me right up to my absolute limit.

Thanks to that, every joint ached and my muscles were screaming.

I barely made it to the bed and flopped down in a full sprawl. My arms wouldn't move….

As I lay there doing nothing but breathing exercises, the next part of the plan drifted up through my mind.

Chapter One, Act Four next, huh. Skipping that.

The next stretch of the third playthrough of For Elise — Chapter One, Act Four — was a slice-of-life ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠segment where the protagonist got tangled up with the other main cast.

What mattered was the act after that: Chapter One, Act Five.

The monsters' gigantification.

Through a certain demon's authority, the monsters would suddenly grow far stronger and swell to enormous size, wreaking havoc on the surrounding area.

At the time, the protagonist and her friends would be out on a commission together, and — being knights-in-training and all — they would end up fighting the gigantified ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠monsters.

In the first and second playthroughs, nobody died. But in the third, the protagonist's closest friend, Lara Twislope, would lose her life protecting civilians.

Once that happened, the protagonist's mental state would sink into "Depression," the difficulty of every later story beat where Lara was supposed to shine would spike hard, and the risk of a bad ending would climb sharply.

The moment Chapter One, Act Five began, there would be no way for me to protect Lara with my own strength.

So what then?

Wipe out the monsters in advance during Act Four.

Do that, and in Elwi the content of Act Five would shift to an encounter with the demon inside a gate dungeon — but Lara wouldn't die.

It was an almost absurdly simple solution. But unless you already knew the strategy guide, or had picked through every scrap of content with a fine-toothed comb, it was the kind of method you'd never stumble onto.

I couldn't afford to take my time, though.

Once Act Four ended, the monsters slated for gigantification would vanish without a trace, and the window for preemptive elimination would slam shut.

Let's do this.

I tried to get up and start on the next phase of the plan.

The instant I moved—

"Aigoooo…."

A deathbed groan worthy of a dying old man tore out of me on its own, and my body collapsed right back onto the mattress.

Right. Starting tomorrow.

I'd pushed myself way too hard today….

The knight academy also offered cadets opportunities to carry out real assignments.

Jobs too small, generally, to warrant deploying actual military force — but perfect for apprentice knights to build combat experience.

And the place where all those assignments gather is right here.

The Knight Academy Commission Office.

Think of it as roughly the same setup as an adventurers' guild.

Befitting the academy's lofty standing, the commission office building boasted a handsome exterior.

I stepped inside. The interior was spotless. Cadets were scattered throughout, each of them geared up.

Brooches marking their year were pinned to every uniform — mostly silver or gold. Second- and third-years, then.

A few first-years were mixed in as well. Our eyes met, but since we weren't particularly close, no one bothered with greetings.

I headed straight for the reception desk. A female administrative staffer — the receptionist — was stationed there.

"A first-year, huh. Here to take on a commission?"

My brooch was the copper one that marked first-years.

She must have clocked my year from that.

"Yes. Is that allowed?"

"Of course it is. Let's get you registered first."

Following her instructions, I filled out a contract.

"Great, confirmed. Here's how it works. Your starting rank is E. For now, you can only take E-rank commissions. The more you complete successfully, the higher your rank climbs — and the tougher, better-paying jobs open up to you."

"Got it."

"Browse the board and pick whichever commission you want. Oh — and the rule is parties of three or more, so bring some friends. Make sure you actually learn the rest of the regulations too."

Things like only one commission per week, and no commissions during exam periods, deployments, or major training blocks, I figured.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll keep it all in mind!"

"Aww~, so fresh."

The receptionist grinned like she was looking at an adorable little kid.

I went straight to the big bulletin board. A thick cluster of commission notices was pinned across it.

It'd be convenient if the protagonist just handled this herself.

Unfortunately, she seemed to be following the standard story route.

If she'd been running a veteran-level playthrough, she would have shown up here already.

Oh. Here it is.

I pulled down one of the notices.

A Blue Slime subjugation commission.

Five zenny a head. Pay that thin meant they were on the weaker end of the monster spectrum.

Even I could handle them without breaking a sweat — that should tell you everything.

But these ones are stronger than ordinary specimens.

They were carrying Magi, which amplified their stats.

In Chapter One, Act Five, the demon targeting Elise's party would use its authority to inflate that Magi and gigantify the monsters.

So I had to wipe out these Blue Slimes before the demon ever got the chance to act.

The real question is who to bring along….

I didn't even need to think about it.

There weren't any other options.

"Turak did not expect to be taking a commission this soon."

The massive man with short gray-brown hair — the barbarian Turak — rumbled in his deep voice.

He had a two-handed axe the size of his own torso slung over one shoulder, and a long blade was strapped across his back as well.

"You're really fine without more jerky?"

"The allotment Turak received last time was enough to cover this favor as well. To shamelessly demand still more would be unbecoming of a warrior's bearing."

"But if I offered more, you'd take it?"

"…Refusing a gesture of goodwill is also unbecoming of a warrior's bearing."

This "warrior's bearing" of his swayed like a reed in the wind.

"Um…."

The deep-violet-haired girl with bangs covering one eye — the necromancer Violet — spoke up carefully.

She was clutching her staff in both hands, a sword hanging at her hip.

Her purple eyes flicked toward me, dropped away, then flicked back again, over and over.

"Are you… really sure it's all right that it's me…?"

"What's with the 'even me'…?"

Violet looked mortified.

"I just… if you're only trying to manufacture some excuse to do me a kindness, I wanted to say you really don't have to go out of your way like that…."

This dark mage's talent for wild speculation was something else.

Had she actually thought that? Had my intentions come across so mangled that she'd twisted them that far?

"Have I been putting that much pressure on you…?"

"Nonononono!!"

Violet shook her head so hard it left afterimages.

"It's just…! You've probably heard around campus, but I'm actually a dark mage…! A necromancer who deals with corpses, at that. Sooo…."

She looked at me with eyes full of fear and, underneath it, a thin thread of hope.

"I was wondering if you felt any… aversion toward me…."

Maybe it was because we were heading out on a subjugation commission. Having to reveal her dark magic in front of me clearly sat wrong with her.

In this world, public opinion of dark mages was gradually improving — but plenty of people still looked at them with open hostility.

Those were the stares Violet had been shouldering all this time.

If I had to put it in past-life terms, the reception was worse than what someone covered head to toe in tattoos might get. Nothing illegal or immoral about it, but a lot of people still found it unsettling.

Before I recovered my past-life memories, who knows how I might have reacted. But now? I had already built a friendship with Violet.

Looking at her with any kind of distaste would have been the harder thing to do.

"…I don't really think anything of it? If anything, isn't it kind of cool?"

"……!"

I answered casually, like it was nothing — and Violet's eyes went round.

I pointed a thumb at her and turned toward Turak.

"Hey, Turak. Does it bother you that she's a dark mage?"

"Dark mage or otherwise, is it not all simply a branch of magic? Among the Blue Mane Tribe, every mage is treated the same."

"Well, that's a relief."

"And to our tribe, every mage is a scoundrel."

"Right, uh…. Anyway, so no prejudice, then?"

This guy. He shunned mages, so why was he trying to become a magic knight?

As Turak and I went back and forth, the corners of Violet's mouth twitched and her eyes curved into soft crescents.

She turned her head away and discreetly wiped at the faint sheen of tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. I deliberately pretended not to notice.

And then—

"Ehehe…."

"……?"

A murky little laugh slipped out of Violet. Her bangs cast shadows over her eyes.

What was that. A chill ran straight down my spine. She was… fine, right?

Well, Violet's laugh had always sounded like that. Moving on.

Time to go.

We finished getting ready.

Once this is done, I'll unlock that achievement too, won't I?

The achievement Tragedy's Rewriter.

An achievement that boosted your mana stat if you twisted the fate of a main character whose death was already locked in.

It had been a while since my mouth watered quite like this.

Barbarian Turak, dark mage Violet, and I climbed into a carriage together and set off for Jefal Lake.