#11. Enrollment
The Academy was the heart of the human realms, situated in the neutral zone between them. The human world kept its balance through the tense, four-way standoff of its nations — the Ivelis Empire, the Zeros Kingdom, the Ilios Kingdom, and last of all the Iodin Grand Duchy — and every one of them sent its most promising talents to the Academy. The reason was simple: any nation whose people won a place in the Hero Party would secure a far stronger political footing when the spoils of the Demon King's subjugation were divided up.
Which meant the talents gathered here were, at bottom, a collective of people hoping to catch the Hero's eye and join her on her journey. Whether at their family's behest, for the sake of personal honor, or out of pure curiosity, these young people would be given every chance to unleash the full measure of their ability within these walls. And in truth, even for those who never made it into the Hero Party, the Academy served each nation's rising elites as a grand arena of society and connections.
The Ivelis Empire, having produced this generation's Hero, must have been feeling unbearably smug about now. Everyone here had come for their own reasons, of that I was sure — but I could also say this with certainty: no one had come for the same purpose we had. Because I fully intended to wreck this generation's Hero. Seria's 'proof'.
On the day of the entrance ceremony, Luna and I ran through our new identities one final time.
"So — I'm the only daughter of House Iaros, Luna Iaros. And Sirius is my servant... hmm... let's just call you my butler."
Hold on — were butlers even allowed to enroll? The thought occurred to me, but a glance around showed that nearly everyone was trailing a servant or two of their own, and I relaxed.
"Let's be careful not to slip up."
If we said something careless and our cover was blown, it was obvious what a headache that would become. We were still outside the school gates, making for the line at the entrance, when Luna suddenly tugged my arm.
"Sirius."
"Hm?"
"Come over here for a second."
She led me into a thick clump of bushes and took my hand in both of hers.
"Sirius..."
There was something anxious in her voice.
"You do love me... don't you?"
Her eyes — blue here, as they had never been in the Demon Realm — watched me with a look that begged for reassurance. The prospect of meeting Seria soon had clearly wound her tight.
I'm nervous enough as it is — why do you have to be nervous too?
I drew her into my arms.
"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."
"I'm... scared... Of course I am. The Hero, and you..."
She couldn't push the words to the end. The rest of that sentence went without saying; I already knew it. Because of my unique magic, Luna showed crippling anxiety over anything that concerned me. Small worries and misgivings she would never have shown a trace of without it crashed over her from the inside with the scale of a natural disaster. I carried some of the blame for her being this way, so I did what I could to soothe her.
"I love you, Luna."
I murmured it as though casting a spell, stroking her silver hair.
"...You're not lying to me, are you?"
"With all my heart."
"Then kiss me."
Her lips met mine, and drunk on the scent of orange soap on her skin, we whiled away the last stretch before the ceremony in a fervor all our own.
The entrance ceremony was underway in a colossal auditorium; we had cut it one step short of late and slipped into the open seats along the outermost edge. A program posted by the entrance listed the order of events, and two items caught my eye: the Headmaster's welcome address, and — slotted in as the very last order of business — a few words from the Hero.
A speech from Seria... The Seria in my memory had never been the brimming-leadership type; she hadn't liked stepping into the spotlight, and she hadn't been much good at it either. I was curious what she looked like now that she'd grown, but I found myself newly curious what she would say, too. How earnest was Seria, at this very moment, about the Hero's purpose — the subjugation of the Demon King?
The ceremony opened, and the Headmaster appeared on the dais. A man hailed as one of the strongest warriors alive in the human realms: Helbern Tiaros. Not the Hero — and yet, they said, a man who stood endlessly close to being one. Advanced age had retired him from the front lines, but he was not a man anyone could afford to underestimate.
He swept his gaze across the students filling the hall and spoke, his deep, weighty voice rolling through the auditorium.
"Welcome, all of you. The very fact that you stand within the Academy is proof enough that you are talents worthy of recognition."
"Here you will rise yet another step higher, through training as true as battle, against rivals of a still higher order."
"It is my hope that the finest among you will be chosen to share in the glory of striking down the Demon King at the Hero's side. Now — devote yourselves!"
Listening to him, I nearly fell for the illusion that I, too, ought to march off and fell the Demon King. What a magnificent speaker. I was sorry I couldn't quite echo the sentiment — mine being a body that would blink out of existence with a single finger-snap from the Demon King the moment I pulled any funny business.
When the rounds of congratulatory addresses and briefings had run their course, the final item arrived at last: the Hero's speech.
"And now, to conclude, a few words from the Hero!"
At those words, a hush fell over the auditorium. The whole hall seemed coiled tight, waiting for the Hero's entrance.
Clack. Clack.
A silhouette showed itself at the back of the hall. The louder the footsteps grew, the louder my heartbeat seemed to swell to match them. And there she was — the Hero, Seria, revealing herself to the Academy.
Her blonde hair was as lustrous and well kept as ever. Her eyes, her nose, her mouth had all sharpened somehow from what I remembered. She had grown a good deal taller, though not remarkably so — she stood about the height of any ordinary woman.
Seria stopped before the dais and gazed silently out over the students packed into the hall.
"...The truth is, I have very little interest in subjugating the Demon King."
Her opening line left every face in the room dumbstruck. Naturally, Luna and I wore much the same expression. As first words from the woman meant to be humanity's champion and figurehead, it was nothing short of stunning. Utterly indifferent to the murmuring around her, she pressed on.
"There is exactly one thing I care about."
Every eye in the hall fixed on her.
"Why I, as the Hero, would exterminate the demonkin and strike down the Demon King comes down to a single interest of mine. This. It is because of this."
Everyone hung on her words with faces ravenous to know.
"Whether you are strong or weak means nothing to me. But should any of you resolve this matter for me, I will grant that person, then and there, the opportunity to join me in the subjugation of the Demon King."
Here and there I caught eyes gone sharp as a hyena's. To those with no confidence in their own strength especially, it was the chance of a lifetime. After letting the moment hang, Seria delivered her final words and stepped down from the dais.
"Find me a man named Yuwol. Twenty years of age, fair-skinned, black-haired. Bring him to me, and I will take him into my party — no conditions attached."
Around me the whispering was palpable — who on earth was this Yuwol? Ha... Seria... what on earth is going through your head...?
Just when she seemed finished, she mounted the dais again and added one last line.
"That man has a mole on the right side of the back of his neck. Kindly keep it in mind."
Then, without so much as a backward glance, she descended with cool indifference. I felt as though I had just been turned into a wanted man with a price on his head. Did these people seated all around me have any idea? That the golden ticket was sitting right beside them?
Feeling strangely like a fruit gone ripe on the branch, I turned my head toward the sound beside me. Luna's fists were clenched, her teeth gritted, her pretty face scrunched into every fold of fury it could manage. And then came her low mutter.
"...That goddamn Hero bitch..."
Such language is unbecoming, my lady. In any case, I decided I would have to correct that — I was her butler from today onward, after all.
'The proof' had begun. The Empire had already explained to me, until it was nailed into my ears, exactly what kind of process this would be. Frankly, there was nothing difficult about it. All I had to do was handily claim first place at everything, gather my people, and graduate. That was the whole of it. And to think I couldn't go searching for Yuwol on account of something so trivial — my throat felt tight and parched, as though it were burning.
So on the day of the entrance ceremony, I had thrown out the speech the Empire sent and tossed in its place a promise of my own: a reward for whoever found Yuwol. I held out no great hopes, but every person in that hall had made a name for themselves in their home nation — it occurred to me they just might prove useful.
The moment I came down from the dais, my attendant Julia was beside herself, scolding me.
"Aigoo~ Lady Hero, what did you do with the speech the Empire so graciously prepared — and then you go and drop a bombshell like that!"
The truth was that whenever I pulled a stunt like this, the one who took the official reprimand was Julia, and I felt guiltier than the gesture warranted.
"I'm sorry, Julia. Just look the other way this once."
"Haah... and just how am I meant to explain this one, I wonder."
Julia had long since learned how monstrously obsessed I was with finding Yuwol, and so it had always been her lot to scrape together excuses for the Empire's lofty personages, who took a dim view of the whole affair. These days the only solace anywhere near me was Julia and my teacher, Duke Eiern. The Duke had mourned with me over the trauma of my first vacation, and had thrown no small amount of support behind the search for Yuwol.
With my business at the ceremony concluded, I was just turning to leave the auditorium when I saw it — at the far end of the hall, an utterly familiar face. The face I dreamed of, always. The face I had wandered years in search of. There was no chance I could mistake him.
Yuwol. It was him. Without a shadow of a doubt, it was Yuwol.
Beside the man who could only be Yuwol stood a silver-haired woman. And Yuwol — though I couldn't make out the circumstances — seemed to be floundering under her eye, fussing to read her mood. One step. Two. I closed the distance at a quickened pace. And in the instant I came up behind him, arms rising to pull him in, the silver-haired woman appeared in front of me at a speed my eyes could barely track — and struck my hand aside.
And what a blow it was — hard enough that even I, the Hero, felt the sting of it.
"Don't you dare lay a hand on what's mine, you ill-mannered bitch."
Who the hell is this woman?