Heroines on the Edge
Shocking news swept through Jerion Academy. Nia Cynthia, the heir to Duke Cynthia and the next master of the Yellow Magic Tower, had gone missing in the Demon Palace while conducting a magic experiment.
The one who discovered his disappearance was Sharin Sazaris, who had been assisting Nia Cynthia with his research. As the daughter of the Blue Magic Tower Master, she frequently exchanged academic opinions with Nia. Having recently spotted an anomaly in Nia's magic formula, she had entered the Demon Palace to consult him, only to find him gone.
Instead, she found only two things left behind in the depths of the labyrinth: Nia's staff and the necklace bestowed solely upon the heir of the Cynthia family. For a mage to lose their staff inside the Demon Palace... though officially labeled a disappearance, it was practically synonymous with death.
The Student Council, led by his younger sister Nikita, immediately launched an emergency investigation into the Demon Palace. Their search uncovered traces indicating that a new breed of Apostle had recently been born within the labyrinth. Ultimately, they failed to recover Nia's body. Though several subsequent search parties were dispatched, not a single trace of Nia was ever found.
With Nia's death virtually confirmed, the world fell into turmoil over the horrific incident inside the Demon Palace. Coming just a year after the tragedy that claimed the lives of the student team, this second major incident thrust the sheer danger of the Demon Palace back into the spotlight. Furthermore, those who harbored suspicions regarding the circumstances of Nia's death began launching their own private investigations.
As the world descended into chaos, I slowly folded the morning newspaper I had been reading.
It's a good thing I used the back path to get out.
While I had Sharin enter through the main entrance, I slipped away through a hidden back path of the Demon Palace known only to me. The labyrinth constantly shifted, with various entrances appearing and disappearing daily. Having mapped these fluctuations beforehand, I managed to keep my involvement entirely secret.
Since Sharin had actually interacted with Nia several times in the past, her story won't raise any suspicions.
Nia was the future master of the Yellow Magic Tower, so it was perfectly natural for him to have conversed with Sharin, the daughter of the Blue Magic Tower Master. This connection lent absolute credibility to her testimony.
A week had passed since Nia's disappearance was made public. Fortunately, he had managed to join the 1st Prince's faction in complete secrecy, without anyone catching wind of it.
Word of my involvement will surely reach the 1st Prince.
I had played a pivotal role in saving Nia's life. To explain how he survived, Nia would have undoubtedly mentioned me. Naturally, the Prince would begin to question who and what I really was.
It might accelerate things a bit faster than I planned, but...
It couldn't be helped. It was the path I chose. Sharin, who had accompanied me to rescue Nia, hadn't asked any probing questions. Instead, she kept her promise of absolute silence.
Given her lazy, quiet nature, she wasn't one to go around gossiping anyway. She also understood all too well that a single slip of the tongue regarding this matter would invite immense trouble. Thus, I chose to place my trust in her.
At any rate, the world now believes Nia is dead.
Or rather, it wasn't just the world.
Nikita needs to believe Nia is dead.
The route for her to become the boss of Act 4, the Calamity Dragon Girl, was now firmly established. No matter what, the story was steering itself back toward the canon path. A bitter, complicated emotion welled up in my eyes. For the sake of the canon timeline, Nikita had to break down and experience this profound grief. Knowing that did not sit well with me.
I've always held Nikita in high regard.
She was originally one of my favorite characters in the game. I deeply admired her unyielding spirit, her relentless effort to push forward no matter how dire the circumstances. But apart from that, I felt an unusual, distinct vulnerability whenever it came to her.
Could it be...?
Was it the lingering influence of Bika-meon, the original owner of this body? Bika-meon had harbored a deep, obsessive love for Nikita. Every single atrocity he had committed against Lucas was driven by his desperate desire to win her heart. I had usurped this body, pushing aside Bika-meon's soul to who-knows-where. Perhaps the raw emotions Bika-meon felt still remained etched into the very fibers of this flesh.
A heavy sigh escaped my lips. The real Bika-meon was no longer of this world. I had tried investigating him in my own way, but everything I uncovered was merely information I already possessed from the game.
Bika-meon, does it pain you that much to see Nikita drown in sorrow?
Directing the silent question to the phantom of Bika-meon, I lifted my head. Even so, this was a trial that had to be endured. Unless Nikita became the Calamity Dragon Girl, we could not progress to Act 4.
I folded the newspaper and slipped it back into the rack. It was a public stand set up near the entrance, meant for students to read on their morning commute.
I walked down the morning corridor. Summer was fast approaching; a damp, humid rain pattered softly against the windows, a quiet prelude to the upcoming monsoon season. It signaled that the first semester of our second year—and with it, Act 3—was drawing to a close. It was also the period when the true curtain would rise on the Flame Butterfly Chapter.
My footsteps echoed down the hallway. I could hear passing students whispering and gossiping about Nia. His death was the biggest topic of conversation on campus. Passing through the murmuring crowds, I arrived before a familiar door.
The Student Council Room.
I knocked twice and slowly pushed the door open.
Creak—
As the door slid open, a girl came into view. Unlike her usual self, she was staring blankly out the window at the rain sliding down the glass. Watching her, I quietly stepped inside.
"Senior Nikita."
When I called her name, she slowly turned her head. A faint glimmer of life returned to her hollow, vacant eyes. Red, puffy stains ringed her eyelids, betraying the tears she had shed through the night. Even though a week had already passed, the traces of her grief refused to fade.
The moment she heard the news of Nia's disappearance, Nikita had mobilized the Student Council and rushed to the Demon Palace. They had combed through the labyrinth with desperate intensity. Yet, the only conclusion they could reach at the end of their exhaustive search was one absolute truth: the death of Nia Cynthia.
Her brother, whom she loved so dearly, was gone. The brother who had been perfectly fine just that afternoon was dead. It was a loss so devastating that it shattered even Nikita's formidable mental fortitude.
Having grown visibly hollow-cheeked over the past week, Nikita managed a faint, strained smile.
"Junior, there isn't much Student Council work to do lately. You don't have to come by so early in the morning."
"No, I didn't come for work. I came to see you, Senior Nikita."
Hearing my words, Nikita didn't tease or bicker with me as she usually did. She simply fell silent. Even though there was no pressing work, she kept coming to the Student Council room day after day. Perhaps, in her profound grief over losing her brother, she had simply wandered here, seeking a familiar anchor in a world that had suddenly lost its meaning.
"Right... I see."
Her response was far weaker than usual.
Rumble—!
A sudden crack of thunder reverberated through the sky, as if the heavens themselves were mirroring the storm in Nikita's heart. Without another word, Nikita sat at her desk and began to move her pen. I quietly pulled up a chair and sat across from her, watching her silently.
Scratch, scratch...
The only sound filling the space between us was the rhythmic scraping of her pen against paper. In all the time I had spent with Nikita, this was the first time we had sat together in absolute silence. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to speak.
I knew the whole truth. Nikita's brother, Nia Cynthia, was alive. I had rescued him with my own hands and set him on his path. By now, Nia had surely joined forces with the 1st Prince, working tirelessly behind the scenes to uncover the conspiracy.
Was it right to keep this a secret from Nikita, his own flesh and blood? Was it truly right to hide the truth while she was drowning in such agonizing grief? I bit my lower lip, the question gnawing at my conscience.
The world was forcing itself back onto the tracks of the canon timeline. I had saved Nia Cynthia, which meant the future had undoubtedly shifted in some aspects. However, the core canon remained intact. The future that would be altered by Nia's "death" would only truly manifest once the predetermined scenario reached its conclusion. For now, the world had to believe in Nia Cynthia's demise.
At least for now, things are proceeding according to the canon.
That was precisely why I had resolved to save Nia Cynthia. I would rescue everyone I wished to save, while simultaneously guiding the world in a direction that kept the canon from derailing. This was the first step toward realizing that ironclad resolve.
My gaze drifted back to Nikita.
To truly save Nikita...
Nikita Cynthia had to become the Calamity Dragon Girl. Only then could I extract her from the tragic clutches of the canon timeline and allow her to live the life she truly desired. Therefore, I had to keep Nia's survival a secret from her.
"Senior Nikita."
And so...
"If anything ever happens to you, Senior, I promise I'll be the very first one to run to your side."
These were the only words I could offer her right now. Nikita's eyes met mine. Despite the tear stains, a soft, gentle curve formed at the corners of her eyes. It was the absolute best smile she could muster in her current state.
"My, that is incredibly reassuring to hear."
It was a smile that would remain deeply etched in my memory for a long time to come.
Time continued to flow even after the news of Nia Cynthia's death settled. Over the next two weeks, it became clear that Nia had possessed a surprisingly large presence at the academy. Some students, who had harbored secret, unrequited crushes on him, openly wept in his memory.
Of course, there were also those who remained entirely indifferent. To them, he was merely a name they had heard once or twice—a stranger whose death held no personal weight.
And so, the days slipped by. Before we knew it, summer had arrived in full force. The deafening, shrill cries of cicadas clinging to the trees filled the air.
Morning training with Aisha. Student Council duties during lunch after morning classes. Magic Engraving practice with Sharin in the evening after afternoon classes. With such a packed schedule, time flew by like an arrow.
I occasionally crossed paths with the 3rd Princess, Iris Haishirion, but she never brought up Nia. Sharp-witted as she was, perhaps she had already deduced that he was alive. Or, if she truly believed him dead, she might have simply lamented the loss without feeling any need to discuss it with me.
For me, it was a relief not to get entangled with Iris just yet, as she was still a difficult person to handle. It would be perfectly fine to get properly involved with her toward the end of Act 3.
Before I knew it, we had reached the end of Act 3, Chapter 4. The individual character arcs of the heroines were reaching their climaxes. And that was when I ran into a completely unexpected problem.
"What kind of absolute bullshit is that?!"
A voice dripping with pure rage echoed through the corridor. On my way to grab lunch after the morning lectures, I spotted a crowd gathering. Standing at the center was a girl with honey-blond hair that brought to mind the brilliant sun. However, her face was contorted with unprecedented fury.
Isabel Luna. She was the main heroine of the Flame Butterfly Chapter. A flicker of confusion crossed my mind. If it were me—the one who had openly slandered Lucas—it would make sense, but I had never seen Isabel direct such raw hostility toward anyone else.
"I-Isabel, what's wrong? Is it really something to get this angry about? We were just curious, so we asked..."
The girls who had asked the question looked utterly bewildered. They clearly hadn't anticipated such a violent reaction from her.
"Well, the dam finally broke."
Right on cue, Seron, who was standing beside me, let out a soft snort. I glanced at her, silently asking if she knew what was going on. Meeting my gaze, Seron gave a casual shrug.
"Those girls are the main culprits who keep trying to ship Isabel with other guys in her class. Well, to be precise, they're just the type who love gossiping about anyone's love life."
The epicenter of rumors, in other words.
"Lately, Isabel has been doing nothing but training, completely ignoring everyone else. It looks like those girls went right up to her and asked her directly."
Yet, my confusion didn't fade. If this were the usual Isabel... She might have sighed inwardly, but she would have calmly corrected them and moved on. There was no way she would have lost her temper like this over something so trivial.
"I can kind of understand her, though," Seron added, looking as if she understood the female perspective perfectly.
"How so?" I asked.
"Isabel was completely devastated after Lucas died. But then, you—you frustrating blockhead—kept picking fights with her, which forced her to find her footing again, whether she liked it or not."
That had been exactly my intention. Anger, after all, can serve as a powerful fuel to keep someone moving forward.
"But since when was it...? Ever since that incident in the Demon Palace, Isabel has become much sharper, almost venomous."
Indeed, Isabel hadn't met my eyes even once since then. But it wasn't just me she was avoiding; she had distanced herself from everyone around her, burying herself entirely in her training.
"She's training like someone possessed, and then they go and pester her about romance and dating? Of course she'd blow a fuse."
The moment Seron finished speaking, Isabel spun on her heel and stormed off. The girls she left behind exchanged bewildered glances, trying to gauge the mood, while the boys nearby tilted their heads, wondering what the fuss was about.
I lightly massaged the back of my neck. Anger could certainly serve as fuel to drive a person forward. However, I also knew its dark side. If a fire burned too fiercely, consuming everything in its path, a moment would come when there was nothing left to burn—and the flame would simply die out.
I don't know why Isabel suddenly changed after the Demon Palace incident, but...
...it meant something had occurred that deeply shook her psychological state.
"I'm heading out first."
Leaving Seron behind, I began to walk away. She called out, "What about lunch?" but I gave a vague wave, telling her I'd take care of it myself. I already knew where Isabel would go. She had a specific spot she frequented like a habit whenever she was feeling down.
After leaving the Martial Arts building and walking for a while, I arrived at a certain park. It was a quiet area bordered by the outer walls of Jerion Academy. Scanning the stone wall, I found the protruding stone steps that the builders had left behind during construction. I lightly stepped onto them and climbed up.
At the very edge of the high wall, I saw Isabel sitting alone, staring blankly up at the sky.
"Isabel."
When I called her name, she slowly turned her head toward me. She stared at me for a long moment before letting out a long, weary sigh.
"How did you find this place?"
Her reaction was completely different from before. Looking at her, the truth dawned on me. The fierce, burning rage that had once breathed life back into her... that anger was now slowly dying out.