Sword Arts Part 3

Katie's face shone with happiness. For the first time since coming to this

academy, an older student had sympathized with her. To her, those words

were the greatest encouragement her heart could receive.

Just under an hour later, after shaking off Oliver and Chela's

recommendation that she visit the doctor, Katie joined her fellow students

in sword arts class.

"Haah! Hyah! Yah!"

With unusual vigor, she unleashed her practice thrusts.

Guy, who was practicing next to her, gave a whistle. "Well, you sure are

motivated. You feeling better already?"

"Yep! I can't let something like that bring me down anymore!" she said

briskly. As if to blow away even the memory of the pain curse, Katie lost

herself in her basic training.

Garland watched her and the other students' progress with a pleased

look on his face. "Okay," he said. "Beginners, continue your basic training.

Veterans, pair up and practice striking each other. Be sure to take turns

attacking and defending. Oh, and, Ms. Hibiya, you come here."

Hearing her name, Nanao paused her training to turn around, then

sheathed her sword and jogged over to the instructor.

Oliver watched her out of the corner of his eye as he continued his

training.

"To be perfectly honest, I'm unsure how to instruct you. Your

swordsmanship and mine differ quite heavily. So before I begin, I have to

know what you were taught." The instructor gave Nanao no chance to

respond. "That said, you have nothing to worry about. I'm not trying to

trick you. Way back when, I used to live for crossing swords with masters

of other styles. I welcome with open arms the stimulation of an encounter

with an unfamiliar style."

Garland grinned excitedly, like a naughty child.

Sensing his honesty, Nanao looked at him with candid appreciation. As

they faced each other, the instructor's expression quickly turned serious.

"With that in mind, my first question: You wield your sword with two

hands. Can I assume you will not change that?"

Nanao dropped her gaze to the blade at her waist and immediately shook

her head.

"You are correct. If I were to wield my sword with one hand, it would be

when my other hand was chopped off. "

Oliver, eavesdropping as he trained nearby, shivered for the hundredth

time since meeting Nanao. She'd mentioned losing a hand so casually, even

though she came from a world where healing magic didn't exist. The

severity was striking.

"Very well. I'm happy to hear that. If you wished to change your grip

and learn one of the three basic styles from the ground up, as an instructor I

wouldn't be able to tell you no. However, Instructor McFarlane has insisted

that I keep your uniqueness in mind while teaching. But more importantly,

this is my wish as well."

Garland's eyes glittered with hope for the future. However, it wasn't

long before a bit of guilt crept into his expression.

"Whatever the future holds, I cannot begin unless I know more about

your sword style… However, the title of Kimberly sword arts instructor is

an incredibly heavy one. I absolutely cannot duel a new first-year, no matter

how promising she might be. It would be an affront to the position."

"Mm, that is a shame," Nanao muttered, her hopes dashed. The next

moment, however, that naughty grin returned to Garland's face.

"But as long as no one finds out, we're fine. Can you do this?" he asked,

setting up against Nanao in the one-step, one-spell distance. He refused to

touch his sword, but seeing the intent in his eyes, the girl nodded in

response.

"I see. A mental battle, is it? Very well, then I shall be your opponent."

Once they had both given consent, instructor and student faced off.

Oliver had some idea of what was about to happen. In the Lanoff style, this

technique was called shadow matching—in other words, the two of them

would be conducting image training.

"Haaah…"

Garland remained on the defensive, so Nanao made the first "strike."

From the outside they seemed to not be moving at all, but in their minds,

both of them could clearly see an image of Nanao attacking. In response,

the man also sent out his will into the battlefield. This give-and-take was

exactly the same as shadow matching—and the more experienced the

duelists were, the more realistically their clash was reproduced.

"…! …! …!"

"..."

It wasn't long after they started before beads of sweat formed on

Nanao's face. Across from her, Garland remained calm and unperturbed.

Oliver swallowed. Even if he couldn't see the battle unfolding in their

minds, it wasn't hard to imagine.

The duel lasted less than two minutes. Eventually, to no one's surprise,

Nanao sank to one knee.

"…Impressive. You decapitated me one hundred and two times."

"Ah, but you surpassed my expectations. And at such a young age, too.

Yamatsu swordsmanship is truly amazing."

Honest admiration on his face, Garland praised the girl's sword skills.

As Nanao struggled to catch her breath, he continued.

"I will analyze our duel and use it to inform my teachings. I'm sorry to

make you wait, but for the rest of today, please observe the other students."

"Understood… Although I require a few more minutes before I can

move."

The girl nodded, desperately trying to get her breathing under control.

Finally, she got up, bowed to Garland, and staggered toward the other

students. Her eyes quickly met Oliver's, and she grinned.

"It ended before I could find even one opening. The world is vast, is it

not, Oliver?"

"…Yeah, it is."

Her expression was 30 percent frustration at not being strong enough, 70

percent excitement at having met a new, formidable opponent. He felt a

pang of jealousy at how refreshed she looked, and he couldn't stop his

mouth from running.

"If you're looking for formidable opponents in the world of sword arts,

Master Garland is one of the strongest and most famous men out there.

Surely you must have realized from your duel that I don't even compare…"

"Mm?"

"…Aren't you drawn to him, as a swordsman?" he asked hesitantly.

Nanao snorted. "Let's say there was a girl who was perfect in your eyes,

whom no one could rival."

"?"

"Then one day, the greatest beauty in the world appears before you.

Would your feelings change?" she asked, turning the tables.

At that surprising response, such a scenario popped into Oliver's mind.

"…They wouldn't. I'd feel exactly the same as before the second girl

appeared," he replied without a moment's hesitation. No matter how

beautiful this hypothetical girl was, there wouldn't be any room in his mind

to consider her. To him, external beauty wasn't something that could seize

his heart and never let go.

"I am the same."

Nanao smiled from ear to ear and looked at the boy with utter joy.

Embarrassment exploded in Oliver like a geyser, and he quickly became

hyperaware that others might be listening. It was just a random

conversation, but this was the kind of thing you didn't want others hearing,

wasn't it?

"Okay, three-minute break. Anyone have questions?"

Unaware of Oliver's turmoil, Garland clapped his hands and called out

to the students. One of them raised their hand instantly.

"Me, Instructor Garland!"

"Very well. What?"

"I've been super curious, but can you use a 'spellblade'?"

The question was like a stone cast upon a calm water's surface, sending

whispers rippling through the class. Garland smiled an incredibly awkward

smile.

"…I knew it. Every year around this time, someone asks."

The students' eyes glittered with curiosity.

The sword arts instructor gazed at them, recalling years past. "My

answer is 'I can't answer.' I say it every year. But you knew that before

asking, didn't you?"

Most of the students moaned unhappily. But seeing some of the others

look confused, Garland continued.

"I'm seeing some confusion. Very well, let me use this time to explain.

In the world of sword arts, there are secret techniques known as

'spellblades.' Their definition is exceedingly simple—a technique

unleashed from within the one-step, one-spell distance that will, without

fail, kill the opponent. There is no way to resist them," he said. This

knowledge was hard to accept for the uninitiated.

Nanao's eyes opened wide in surprise and curiosity.

"Of course, they are by and large a secret even to mages. It is not

published anywhere how to access such knowledge, and their users are

rarely revealed. Some even question if they truly exist. Even so, there is a

never-ending stream of people like yourselves who want to know more.

Long ago, I was the same."

Garland's tone was half-joking, but Oliver could sense a bit of shame in

the instructor's reflection on his younger days. But quick as it came, it was

gone. Garland spread the five fingers of his right hand and held them up for

the students, adding the index finger from his left.

"In total, there are six 'spellblades' in existence. Their number was

frequently in flux at the dawn of sword arts, but for the last two hundred

years, they have neither increased nor decreased. Many try to construct new

spellblades, or analyze and break down the ones we already know of. And

yet, after all these years, only six have stubbornly persisted."

The students swallowed. The history their instructor spoke of confirmed

to them these things existed.

"It goes without saying that these are unrealistic goals for sword arts

students. However, I don't believe it is meaningless to discuss. It simply

stokes something inside your hearts, doesn't it?"

Garland grinned widely. Instantly, the hands of excited students shot up.

"Instructor! Please give us a hint at least!"

"Can the other instructors use them? What about the headmistress?"

"What happens if two spellblade users clash?!"

The questions rained down like a volley of arrows. Seeing them react

exactly as he'd expected, Garland shrugged as in years past.

"…As you can see, it's a topic that can instantly ruin a class. Honestly,

this always happens."

Oliver smiled wryly. He liked this instructor.

"I won't be taking any more questions. Now, return to your training.

Your three minutes have long since passed!"

The sound of his clapping hands signaled the end of the discussion.

Oliver quickly returned his focus to his training. Nanao crossed her arms

and hmm'd.

"What a curious story that was. Oliver, did you know about these

things?"

"Well, only as much as he just explained. It's the hottest topic among all

new students."

For him, it was nothing new, but for someone like her who didn't know

about them, it was probably very stimulating. He imagined she was about to

harass him with questions, but before she could…

"Chatting instead of training? You must be quite confident, Mr. Horn,

Ms. Hibiya," a malicious third voice intruded. They turned to see a longhaired boy gripping his athame—Mr. Andrews.

"We were just discussing spellblades, same as everyone else. No offense

meant."

"Same as everyone else? …Are you talking about me, too?"

The anger in his eyes grew as he glared at Oliver. He'd tried to choose

his words carefully so as not to provoke him, but apparently, he'd failed at

that. Oliver attempted to smooth things over.

"I'm not trying to pick a fight with you. You're making too much of this,

Mr. Andrews."

"I see. So I'm the one lacking confidence, eh? That's what you're trying

to say?"

His reaction only worsened. Oliver could see that nothing he said would

change things. Chela, who had been practicing nearby, picked up on this

and stepped in.

"Enough of this, Mr. Andrews. Continue to criticize every little thing he

says, and I'll start to doubt your integrity."

"Butt out, Ms. McFarlane. It's him I'm talking to."

Trying to remain neutral wasn't going to work this time. Mr. Andrews

was too fixated on Oliver for him to play this off smoothly.

"…So what exactly would satisfy you?"

"Isn't it obvious? Or is that sword in your hand a prop?" He glared at

Oliver's right hand and pointed the tip of his athame at him. "A duel, with

spells allowed. Then I won't lose to a bunch of nitwits like you!"

He was looking for a fight, and Oliver sighed at the boy's raw pugnacity.

"Fine, I'll do it. You're okay with a practice duel, right?"

"Call it whatever you want, Mr. Horn. Stand before me. I'll return the

humiliation you gave me ten times over!" Andrews snarled as he angrily

turned. Was he going to get Master Garland's approval? Oliver doubted

he'd allow a full-on fight at this stage, but he followed anyway, feeling as if

it almost didn't concern him.

"You can't, Oliver."

Nanao's hand grabbed Oliver's robe and pulled him back.

"…Nanao?"

"There is no fight in you. You intend to lose on purpose, don't you?"

Her words pierced his heart.

Her eyes wavering, the girl continued. "I don't want that. I absolutely do

not want that. I don't want to see my destined partner fall in such a hollow

manner. It would be too—too sad. I don't think I could bear it."

Tears were welling in her eyes as she pleaded with him.

"It's not just about winning or losing. If you're going to fight, then give

it your all. Please."

"Well, I…"

It wasn't the duel that concerned him, but rather his relations with others

going forward. But as he tried to explain his rather pretentious logic to

Nanao, he suddenly realized his own error. Panicking, he returned his gaze

to the front. Andrews's eyes, wide with shock, told the entire story.

"You—you think so little of me? You don't even consider me worthy of

a serious fight?"

"Wait, Mr. Andrews! That's not it—"

It was too late to make excuses, but his brain wanted to anyway. He

should have denied it immediately. If his plan was to lose and make his

opponent look good, then he had to maintain the act as if he was serious.

"Y-you… Youuu!"

The howl of the boy's injured pride filled the classroom. By responding,

even barely, to Nanao's statement, Oliver had signaled to his opponent that

he had no interest in fighting him. This was worse than any verbal abuse

and had resulted in injuring Andrews's pride.

"Enough talk over there! Focus! A hundred more strikes from your

partner as punishment!"

The instructor's shout stayed Andrews's hand just before he drew his

sword.

Chela used this opportunity to jump in. "You heard the instructor. Save

your duel for another day, you two. Understand?!"

She looked at them both in turn, moderating with a sterner voice than

she'd ever used before.

Andrews gritted his teeth, gave Oliver one last dirty look, and gruffly

turned on his heel.

"God…"

After class, Oliver and Chela told the others to go on ahead. In a corner

of the empty hall, they stood with their backs against the wall.

"I know you mean no ill will, but that went about as badly as it could

have. At this point, I doubt it will be easy to repair your relationship."

Chela sighed. Pressing a hand to his head, Oliver moaned.

"I know I shouldn't have answered that way, and I won't make that

mistake again. But why was Mr. Andrews so insistent anyway? Why is he

so obsessed with proving his strength? It's way more than his personality at

this point."

This was the most mysterious part. Bitter regret colored Chela's

expression.

"He wasn't always like that. I probably bear some responsibility in that

regard."

"You do? How…?"

"We grew up together. Our families have been intertwined for

generations."

Oliver's eyes went wide in surprise. From their brief conversations, he'd

sensed they were acquaintances, but he'd never expected them to be so

closely connected.

"Since we're the same age, he inevitably ended up being compared with

me growing up. I won't share any details to preserve his honor, but I believe

he always felt that his position was threatened."

Her words were conflicted and bitter. Oliver tried to imagine the

environment they'd grown up in, as two children of historic houses.

Constantly compared by those around them and forced to compete in

everything—the pressure must have been massive.

"Due to that, we mostly stay away from each other now. If you asked

whose side I am on, I'd say yours, since you're my current friend. However,

I don't want you two to fight like today. If you get to know him, he has

plenty to like."

Oliver gritted his teeth. Even the compassion Chela was showing right

now would probably come off as an insult to Andrews. She must have tried

a million ways to help her childhood friend as he succumbed to negativity.

Stern lecturing, kind chiding—but it all had the opposite effect, and her

only choice was to give him space.

He sighed heavily. Now this was even more difficult. After imagining

the boy's story, he could no longer describe him as simply "a nasty person."

"Now that I know, I can't simply disregard that—"

As he spoke, something clicked inside him. This was his friend's earnest

wish—he already owed her for helping him in their first class together.

"Next time, I'll try my best to slowly build up our relationship. I'll even

apologize if need be. I'd like to think I'm sensible enough." Oliver

shrugged as he assured Chela of his intentions. A pained smile appeared on

her lips.

"I'm glad you'd say that, truly… But I can't ask you to apologize when

you've done nothing wrong. I wonder if Mr. Andrews even has the presence

of mind to accept an apology from you." She paused for a moment, a

terribly lonely look on her face. "I also don't want to disillusion Nanao,

either."

"It's way too hard to do both," Oliver moaned, remembering her on the

verge of tears. He didn't know what to do anymore. Both of them remained

silent for a while; then, as if to banish the stagnation, Chela spoke up.

"It's no use standing here worrying together. Let's change the topic…to

Katie."

He jumped. The moment Oliver heard his friend's name, his thoughts

switched over to her.

"That's the other big problem, huh?" he said. "My eyes nearly popped

out of my skull when I saw her standing between that instructor's wand and

the troll."

"Yes, she's of much stronger character than I thought. Not everyone

could have said what she did after suffering a pain curse. I'm sure she'll

continue to grow."

"I agree…as long as she doesn't accidentally get killed first."

"Precisely. Do you know what this is?"

Chela pulled out a ball of paper scraps from her robe pocket. Drawn on

its surface in red ink was a magic circle, and some creature's fur seemed to

be woven into the inner area. Oliver studied it for a bit before giving it his

best guess.

"…A magical catalyst? Looks like a tool for spying, maybe some kind

of trap?"

"I knew you'd recognize it. I recovered this in front of Katie's room this

morning," Chela replied sternly.

Oliver's expression became instantly more serious. "…Is someone

coming after Katie?"

"I don't see how it could be anything else. It's not a lethal trap, but

neither is it something we can pass off as a simple prank. Remember the

parade incident? The perpetrator still hasn't been caught. The academy is

supposedly looking into it, though," she said, holding the evidence of

someone's ill wishes in her hands. Her tone heavy, she continued. "In

addition, Katie's parents—I could never say this in front of her, but they're

a bit infamous even among the civil rights movement. Given that she's their

daughter, I can't deny the possibility she might be getting caught in the

crossfire."

"…All the elements for a disaster."

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Oliver put a hand to his chin and

thought. Much of this was shrouded in mystery, but one thing was clear:

Someone was targeting Katie. Whatever their objective, remaining silent

wouldn't improve the situation.

"Okay, let's look into this ourselves. First, do you think you can narrow

down who set that trap? It's most likely someone from the girls' dorm."

"Of course. It would be ideal if I could simply lie in wait for their next

move, but that relies a bit too much on this person making a mistake,"

Chela replied calmly, returning the catalyst to her robe pocket.

Oliver nodded. "We need to be more proactive. Would it be possible to

figure out the perpetrator behind that parade incident, too?"

"That would prove difficult. We might be able to learn something if we

gathered statements from eyewitnesses, but once the perpetrator realized

our plans, it would all fall apart."

"What a dilemma. If only there was someone other than a student or

faculty member present at the time…"

Suddenly, he stopped. His thoughts arriving at one possibility, Oliver

lifted his head.

"Wait, there was! Not someone, but something!"

"Why, good day to you!"

"Nice to see you again!"

"Did you enjoy the welcome party?"

"No one peed themselves, I hope."

"Kya-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

Three days later, on the weekend, they acted on Oliver's idea. The six of

them stood before the noisy dahlia flower bed, having second thoughts.

"Hey, Oliver. I understand the logic in coming here, but…"

"Don't, Guy. I didn't pick this because I wanted to," Oliver cut him off.

Watching the plants swaying their stalks in excitement, he continued. "But

this is what we have to work with. These pride plants witnessed the entire

parade. With this many 'eyes,' the dahlias would've seen if anyone was

acting weird."

This was why they were all here on their precious day off. The Flower

Road was outside the academy gates, but it was still on Kimberly property.

It was easy to get permission to visit from the faculty. They just had to

remember to come back to campus in time, or a fearsome punishment

awaited them.

"I see. Clever indeed. However, is this really the best spot?" asked

Nanao. "The incident happened right past the academy gates. This area is

too far away."

"It's fine. Pride plants with roots in the same earth all share the same

memories. It's better that we're harder to see from campus."

There were pride plant flower beds within the academy gates as well,

which the ones outside could pull memories from. However, along with the

reason he'd already given, there was another serious reason to go out of

their way to come here.

"I get that. But the biggest problem is, how exactly are you planning to

get a straight answer outta these things?" Guy frowned, clearly not

expecting much.

Listening to their conversation, the dahlias all stretched out their stems.

"Why, what's this? Do you have a question?"

"Don't be shy. Ask away!"

"On one condition, that is!"

The eager plants were like a chorus.

Oliver sighed. "And there you have it. There's only one way, Guy," he

said, his voice low. Guy's face darkened more and more by the second.

"No way—dude, you're not thinking of doing Hell's Greatest Comedy

Hour right now, are you?"

"What choice do we have? I've already made up my mind."

Guy swallowed. The other four didn't seem to understand. Oliver turned

to them and explained, hoping to warm them to his cause.

"The pride plants bloom differently every year during the entrance

ceremony. What determines the magnitude isn't someone's green thumb,

but a single event held right before. A ton of sixth-years gather here and do

their best to amuse the plants. Essentially…they try to make them laugh

with a show," he explained. More than any fertilizer, the magical flowers

preferred human comedic routines.

"The execution of this contract is the only way to retrieve accurate

information from them. Did you each think of a joke like I asked?" Oliver

looked at each of them in turn, incredibly serious.

Katie snickered. "You're so dramatic! It's not that serious. We just have

to do something funny and make them laugh, right?" She stepped forward,

brimming with confidence. "Let me start. I'll get them giggling in a flash so

we can get to finding whoever's after me!"

The dahlias cheered expectantly at the girl's conviction.

"Are you first?"

"I wonder what she'll do."

"I'm excited."

"Heh-heh-heh! Don't laugh so hard your petals fall out, now. Everyone

ready?" she said fearlessly as she retrieved a folded-up white cloth from her

pocket. All spread out, it was large enough to loosely wrap a small person.

Katie used it to cover her head with a flourish.

"Then here we go! …Radish!"

The moment she spoke, she wrapped the cloth around her and dropped

to the ground, arching her back and hugging her limbs into her chest. Given

the unevenness of her whole body covered in the cloth, she did somewhat

resemble a radish.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...…?"

But it didn't seem to matter. When the audience laughter didn't come,

the girl started to panic.

"H-huh? …Onion!"

This time she flipped over and, body still curled up like before, put her

arms together and stretched them straight up. The white, round sphere with

a slight tip sort of resembled a peeled onion.

But as expected, it didn't matter. The silence grew heavier. Placing her

last hopes on this next trick, Katie instantly got to her feet and spread her

arms and legs wide.

"M-mandragora!"

The mandragora was a magical plant with roots shaped like a human.

Revealing her human body after pretending she was a vegetable wasn't a

total non sequitur—it was a kind of punch line to a common three-part bit.

It wasn't too difficult to figure out with a little thought.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

But once again, it didn't seem to matter.

"Yeah, that's enough."

"Could you come a little closer?"

"Yeah, get over here. Right now!"

The dahlias paused their judging to call Katie over. Nervously, she

approached the flower bed. The moment she was close enough, their stalks

extended and surrounded her with a cacophony of criticism.

"What was that, a children's talent show?"

"Where was the comedy? What was I supposed to laugh at?"

"And you asked if I was ready! Ready for what, disappointment?"

"All you'll get with a performance like that is crickets! And then they'll

come eat all my petals!"

"Tell me, do you think comedy is some sort of game?"

"Do you think life is some sort of game?"

Their vicious words rained down on the frozen girl. After over three

minutes of constant castigation, Katie turned around, shivering and tearful,

and jumped into her friend's arms.

"Sniff… Waaaah! Nanaooo!"

"There, there, Katie. There, there, 'tis all right."

Nanao consoled the crying Katie, patting her head gently.

Comforted by a girl her own age, the curly-haired girl wailed. "That was

my best joke! Mama and Papa always burst out laughing when I did it!"

"Ah, no wonder… You have very kind parents," Chela said, wiping

away a tear while thinking of the warm family Katie had grown up in. Their

first attempt had bombed spectacularly.

Oliver spoke up, an unpleasant expression on his face. "Now you all see

that the pride plants are incredibly harsh critics. That's where the true hell

of this event is. If you don't make them laugh, they'll surround you and rip

you and your joke to shreds. The shock has left people bedridden for days."

"I'd heard stories, but that was more terrible than I could have

imagined."

"I—I don't want to do this! No way I'm gonna stand up just to be

slaughtered!" Pete violently shook his head and shrunk back.

Seeing the fear of his friends, Oliver felt guilty and stepped forward

himself.

"This was my suggestion, so I'll go second."

The boy faced the fearsome audience head-on, and the plants quickly

focused their attention on him.

"Are you next?"

"That first girl must have been a mistake."

"He looks prepared. I'm expecting big things."

The flowers laid on the pressure before falling silent. In the tense

silence, the boy prepared his act by burying a seed in the ground. He

pointed his wand at it and chanted a growth spell. The seed sprouted and

grew before their eyes, turning into a young tree. It twisted in complicated

ways, eventually forming a small table. The secret to this was the treatment

he'd given this special seed beforehand.

Atop the finished table, he placed a book he'd retrieved from his pocket

and a single teacup. Pete squinted; judging from the book's cover, it was a

magical handbook for beginners. With everything ready, Oliver took a deep

breath and opened his mouth wide.

"I present to you, The Novice Mage's Failure!"

The moment Chela heard this, her eyes went wide in amazement as she

watched.

"That skit…?! Are you serious, Oliver?"

"Huh? Y-you know it?"

"Of course! It's a classic, known as the height of the magical comedy

world. The techniques required are so high-level and complex that hardly

anyone does it these days."

Pressure mounting from both sides, Oliver began. First, he opened the

book on the table and read the first page. After some hemming and hawing,

he nodded and closed the book. Then, with a look of confidence, he

brandished his wand, pointed it into the air, and chanted:

"Ffffflammaaa!"

A flame erupted not from his wand tip—but from behind and right into

his butt.

"Oh! Ouch!"

Oliver jumped at the burst of heat. Once the heat had subsided, he

looked with confusion between his wand and the book. As Katie and the

others gawked, Chela explained excitedly.

"First, the preliminary test: He tries to cast a fireball, but the fire comes

from behind him and burns his butt. He mispronounces the word flamma,

drawing out the beginning and end to make it dramatic."

Chela nodded to herself.

As his friends watched, Oliver closed the book, left it on the table, and

readied his wand again.

"Ffffflammaaa!"

Boof! went the flame. But again, instead of coming from his wand, it

erupted somewhere else, this time from the teacup behind him.

"…? Ffffflammaaa! Ffffflammaaa!"

Not realizing the fire was appearing in the wrong place, Oliver

repeatedly chanted the spell to no avail. Worked into a frenzy, he spun

around and reached for the book on the table.

"??? ????? …Ouch!"

While checking the instructions, he had licked his lips and

absentmindedly reached for the teacup—only to let out a howl and drop it.

As he blew on his fingers to cool them, Chela smiled and explained

further. "Now the second part. The fire refuses to come out of his wand,

instead heating up the teacup nearby. Frustrated, he takes a tea break and, in

reaching for the cup, burns his hand and screams. The flow is so natural,

too. He's really practiced a lot."

"Um…he's doing it on purpose, right?" Katie asked.

"Of course. By employing difficult-to-control spatial magic, he can fake

very humorous failures. That's the secret to his act. The next bit requires

some real creativity," Chela said expectantly.

Meanwhile, Oliver, having given up after two failures, was perusing a

different page of the book. He withdrew two seeds from his pocket and

buried them at his feet. He was going to try that growth enhancement spell

he'd used earlier to set up the skit.

"Brrrogoroccio!"

He chanted another spell with incorrect pronunciation, then looked at the

dirt at his feet and waited a moment. But nothing happened.

"Brrrogoroccio! Brrrogoroccio!"

Convinced the spell wasn't strong enough, he repeated it again and

again. Then something strange happened. The seeds, which had been

planted in front of him, sprouted from behind and stretched upward.

"What…?! Oliver, behind you! Behind you!" Katie shouted frantically

as the plant grew. But the "novice mage" Oliver was playing didn't hear

her. Unbeknownst to him, the plant continued to grow.

"??? …Wow!"

The moment he turned around to consult the book, he found himself

staring into a sunflower in full bloom. Surprised, he slipped and fell on his

butt. He stared up vacantly at the yellow petals for a few seconds. Then he

gathered himself, stood up, and tried casting straight at the sunflower.

"…Brrrogoroccio! Brrrogoroccio!"

He repeated the spell loudly, but the sunflower didn't budge. Instead, the

ground behind him began to rumble. Breaking free from the earth, a stalk

shot up.

"????? Ohhhhhh!"

Sensing something, the boy turned around to see a second giant

sunflower in full bloom. Caught between the two giant plants, the boy

shouted and fell over. Chela's cheering followed.

"Bravo! Not only did he remotely cast a luxuriate spell, he

simultaneously guided the plant's growth! What a high-level technique!

Without even looking behind him, he managed to get the plant at exactly

eye level! Who wouldn't be impressed? Oh, and look how beautifully

symmetrical the plants' curves are!"

She heaped on the praise. A little disturbed by her excitement, Pete and

Guy whispered to each other.

"…Yo, apparently he's doing some crazy magic. Can you tell?"

"No…but I have learned that Chela loses her mind when she starts

talking about something she loves."

None of the amazing things Oliver was doing made an impact on the

two of them, who had far less of a discerning eye for magic. While they

studied him intently and tried to understand, Oliver escaped from the

sunflower sandwich and consulted a different page of the book. At last, it

was time for the finale.

"Ducere!"

He chanted and waved his wand, casting a spell to summon a pebble

from far away. His pronunciation was on point this time, but after waiting a

few seconds, the rock remained in place. Oliver cocked his head.

"Ducere! Ducere! Ducere! Ducere!"

He tried the spell over and over, hoping for at least one success as he

tried every pebble he could see. Five casts later, nothing happened. Clearly

frustrated, the boy stamped the ground.

"Mm…? Nothing happened this time."

"Shhh! It's starting now!" Chela sharply shushed Nanao.

The novice mage, growing sick of his repeated failures, picked up his

book and teacup and was about to give up on practicing. Just as he spun

around and took a step, the five inert pebbles suddenly shot at his back.

"Ohhh?!"

The projectiles all landed direct hits, and Oliver face-planted onto the

ground. With that final piece of acting, Chela erupted into applause.

"How… How wonderful! He timed the delay spells so precisely that the

five rocks all flew at him simultaneously! So many differing factors like

size and distance, yet they all landed at the same time! What skill! I'm

running out of ways to praise you, Oliver!"

She continued to clap vigorously. Eventually, Oliver stood up, brushed

the dirt from his robe, and bowed respectfully to his audience. The plants

sat there silently judging him as he waited for their scores.

"Hmmm… Thirty points."

"What the…?!"

Their decision struck him like lightning, and he goggled in shock.

The dahlias continued.

"Well, it was certainly impressive."

"Yep, yep."

"Good work. I can tell you practiced a lot."

They unenthusiastically complimented him before mercilessly cutting to

the quick.

"But, well…it wasn't exactly funny."

"...!"

"Did anyone laugh while watching that?"

"I certainly didn't. Even if it was impressive."

"I saw someone singing high praises, but that was for the techniques

employed."

Chela gasped and looked at her four friends. Their expressions were

awkwardly apologetic, cruelly giving credence to the plants' words.

"There's too much tension in your act."

"It's hard to approach, like traditional art. Feels like we're being forced

to watch you show off."

"All we want is some much more natural laughs."

Their words were daggers, gouging out Oliver's heart. It felt as if they

were denying the very core of the path of comedy he'd dedicated his life to.

The impact from such a blow left him dizzy, and he sank to his knees. Katie

hurriedly ran over to him.

"O-Oliver…!"

"…I knew it. Oh, I knew it…! My art is just cheap tricks! I can master

the details of the technique, but it has no soul. And I knew that, I really did!

But—but how do I find that soul? I learned the theories of my predecessors,

practiced for ages until my techniques were perfect, yet nothing! How else

can I improve…?!"

He clawed at the earth in anguish. His friends rushed to find the words

to console him.

"Wh-what do we say? Guy, do you know?!"

"No idea! Pete, say something!"

"Don't push this on me just because you can't think of anything! Um,

uh…w-want some candy?!"

They were starting to panic as they failed to think of something. Chela

crossed her arms, a stern look on her face.

"Oh dear. Normally, I'm on the audience side of magical comedy, so

there's no way I can surpass that. If Oliver isn't good enough, then we have

no chance."

It felt as if they'd suddenly hit a dead end. Just then, Nanao stepped

forward proudly.

"Seems we find ourselves in a predicament. Heh-heh-heh! Then let the

star take the stage."

"Nanao? You're a comedian?"

"But of course. I was always the main act during my village's

festivities," she said confidently. She took off her cape and handed it to

Chela, then fearlessly stood before the dahlias. "Now, monstrous flowers,

behold! My special belly dance!"

And with that, she suddenly grabbed the bottom of her blouse. Her

stomach started peeking out, when suddenly, Chela and Katie stormed

forward and grabbed her by both arms.

"…Hwuh? Why are you two grabbing me?" Nanao looked in confusion

between her friends.

Chela gravely shook her head. "I'm sorry, Nanao. According to this

country's ethics, a young lady exposing her skin in broad daylight is not a

form of art. Katie! Keep her arm secure, please!"

"Right! Th-that was too close…"

Katie nodded, and the two of them dragged Nanao away. Not

understanding why she was stopped, Nanao continued to swivel her head

between them.

As their third participant fizzled out, Guy sighed and scratched the back

of his head.

"…Oh well. Guess it won't hurt to try," he said and stepped in front of

the flowers. Chela's eyes went wide.

"Guy, are you serious? They'll cut you to shreds if you aren't even

remotely funny."

"I know. But they're just plants. I'm not that sensitive," he replied with a

shrug. He began to hum a cheerful melody.

"Doo doo duh da-doo! Doo doo duh da-doo! "

His hands and feet moved with the rhythm. Keeping to the beat, he

suddenly stuck his hand into his cape.

"Bell pepper! Bell pepper! "

Out came a fresh-looking green vegetable. Holding it in one hand, he bit

into it raw. It crunched loudly as he chewed. Then he swallowed, smiled,

and gave a thumbs-up.

"De-li-ci-ous!" he said dramatically, and he began humming the "Doo

doo duh da-doo! " melody and dancing. It was so bizarre that Katie

couldn't help but chuckle.

"Carrot! Carrot! "

Next, he retrieved a bright-orange carrot from his cape. He held it with

both hands in front of his body, put the tip to his lips—and curled them

back, revealing his front teeth. Like a squirrel, he nibbled on the carrot with

impressive speed. After that sudden funny face, Chela did a spit take and

had to cover her mouth as she laughed.

"De-li-ci-ous!" Guy said in his signature dramatic voice, sticking his

thumb up once he'd eaten the carrot up to the top. Yet again, he started

humming and dancing, this time retrieving an onion from his cape.

"Onion! Onion! "

He peeled the onion as he sang. His friends watched him, on edge—was

he really going to bite into it? And once he was done peeling, he did indeed

bite into the onion as they watched. Chomping through it like a crunchy

apple, he gulped it down. As soon as he did, he stuck his tongue out from

the spiciness and held his head with one hand.

"...De-li-ci-ous!"

Tears welling in his eyes, he forced himself to give a thumbs-up. Pete

nearly fell over in hysterics. Once he'd recovered from eating the whole

onion, Guy went back to singing, apparently having not learned his lesson.

"Zucchini! Zucchini! "

The fourth vegetable he produced made Katie and the others gawk. It

really was a zucchini. Except this one was massive at over ten inches and as

thick around as the boy's arm. There was no way he could eat the whole

thing.

His friends watched anxiously as Guy spun around, turning his back to

them. As the audience was wondering what he was up to, they heard a

gwomp like something being shoved into an ill-fitting space. Suddenly, they

noticed a strange protuberance in the silhouette of Guy's head. Everyone

waited with bated breath as he slowly turned.

"Dewishus!"

The entire zucchini was stuffed into his mouth, his cheeks stretching to

the side like a frog's. This didn't stop him from delivering his line, though.

A hush fell upon the group, like the calm before a storm.

"""""""GYA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA- HA-HA-HA!"""""""

The pride plants burst out laughing, their dignity be damned. Katie,

Chela, Nanao, and Pete clutched their stomachs and covered their mouths,

wheezing.

"…! …! …!"

"Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Oh my god! Oh my god!"

"W-wait…! I—I can't, my stomach…!"

The laughs just kept coming. Seeing that his joke had been successful,

Guy removed the zucchini from his mouth and bit into it as he walked over.

"Funny joke, eh? Guess it was worth a shot after all."

"Huff, huff… Guy, what in the world…?" Chela asked between gasps for

air, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Pete answered for him. "Th-that was based on a nonmagical comedian's

joke. I've seen their act before. This gentleman pulls out vegetable after

vegetable from his pockets, then wolfs them down and strikes a pose…

That's all…," the boy recalled, trying to keep the laughs from resurging.

Guy proudly smacked him on the shoulder and grinned. "The zucchini

was my own thing. I cast a softening spell on my mouth to make it flexible

beforehand. I've always liked nonmagical comedy. Sometimes I'd even

sneak out to go see shows. This was my favorite gag. You could even get a

kid to eat their veggies with it."

The boy smugly rubbed the bottom of his nose. Behind him, a figure

rose like a ghost from the grave.

"Guy…"

"Whoa! O-Oliver?!"

The low moan made him jump. Before he could move, Oliver grabbed

both of his shoulders in an iron grip.

"You…," he rasped desperately. "How…?! How did you do it? I worked

so hard, but it was as natural as breathing for you…!"

"C-calm down, Oliver! Your face is starting to scare me!"

"I understand how you feel, Oliver. Go ahead and cry. No one will think

less of you for your tears," Chela said mournfully, gently putting her hand

on his back. By the time the kids finished talking, the dahlia's riotous

laughter had finally begun to subside.

"Ah-ha-ha-ha! Mm, what a surprise!"

"I haven't seen such a masterpiece in a long time."

"The previous two got my hopes down so much I laughed extra hard."

"These new first-years are nothing to scoff at. Not so good with

consistency, however."

The dahlia relayed their comments one after the other.

Seeing their reaction, Katie suddenly remembered something. "Oh!

Then will you answer our question?"

"Mm, I'd forgotten all about that," Nanao said, clapping her hands

together.

"I think a lot of you did," Pete added, sighing tiredly.

The dahlias vigorously bounced their flowers up and down.

"Yes, of course."

"After those laughs, of course. The favor must be repaid."

"Ask me anything. What do you want to know?"

"Well, you see…"

Nervous, Katie explained the situation. Once she'd finished, the flowers

thought for a few seconds.

"Oh, the parade incident? Yeah, there was someone acting suspicious,"

they replied easily, almost making the group's previous efforts seem

pointless. "They were right behind you."

They executed their plan at noon the next day so as to catch their target

unawares.

"I know this is sudden, but can you come with us, Ms. Mackley?" Oliver

asked, blocking the hall. "We have some questions for you."

With nowhere to go, the girl looked at him crossly. "D-do you have a

problem here? Move aside."

"We will once you answer our questions, Ms. Mackley."

Chela appeared from around the corner behind her. The moment panic

started to show on Mackley's face, Katie quickly strode up to her.

"…!"

"Let's just cut to the chase. Are you the one who cast a spell on me on

the day of the entrance ceremony?" Katie asked, looking directly into the

girl's eyes.

Succumbing to the pressure, Mackley averted her gaze. "I don't know

what you're—"

"She's guilty."

"Guilty."

The moment she tried to deny it, Oliver and Chela cut her off. The girl

froze, and they began to offer their analysis.

"Her eyes, her face, her disrupted magical flow, that stiffness in her

throat—ironic that only her words lie."

"I agree. You aren't nearly cunning enough to fool me, Ms. Mackley."

"…!"

Obvious fear appeared on her face as she melted under their crossexamination. Her secret exposed, Katie stepped in to question her, anger

clear as day.

"So it was you… Why? Why would you do that?!"

"I—I told you, I don't know what you're—"

"We have eyewitnesses, Ms. Mackley. There's no point in playing dumb.

If we report this to the faculty, you'll most likely be placed under a

confession spell."

Oliver matter-of-factly backed her into a corner when she tried to weasel

her way out of the interrogation. The moment Mackley heard the words

confession spell, her expression became twisted with fear. She knew the

pain that entailed.

"If you admit to your actions and tell us your motive as well as who else

is involved, we'll have no reason to escalate this. So will you confess?"

He laid out the conditions for her, making it easier to come to a decision.

Even so, the girl hesitated some more, calculating her safety versus her

secret. Finally, the scales tipped.

"I—I never intended for that to happen. I just wanted to scare you a

bit…!" she desperately explained, doing a complete one-eighty from just

moments before.

Chela studied her. "So you admit it. Now, calm down and tell us bit by

bit. First, what was your motive for targeting Katie?"

"…M-my family are proper mages. I was taught that pro–civil rights

people and demi-human lovers are a blight on the magical community."

"So you simply didn't like her philosophy?" Oliver summarized her

confession, his voice like steel. The girl nodded.

This didn't sit well with Katie. "Then say it to my face! Why would you

go and spring a surprise attack on me?"

"...!"

"Katie's right. All you achieved was making your faction look bad. Very

shortsighted of you, Ms. Mackley," Chela said with a sigh. The girl looked

at the floor and gritted her teeth as Chela continued. "I'd love to lecture you

more, but we have priorities, so let's move on. Who were you working

with? You couldn't have bewitched Katie and incited the troll at the same

time."

The moment Chela asked, Mackley's head snapped up, and she shook it

from side to side.

"I told you, you're wrong! It wasn't supposed to be like that! All I did

was make Ms. Aalto run toward the parade. Then all of a sudden, the troll

came at her, and…"

The girl begged them to believe her. Oliver and Chela carefully studied

the change in her expression before coming to a difficult conclusion.

"…She doesn't seem to be lying."

"…No."

"Huh? What does that mean?" Katie cocked her head in confusion.

Oliver adjusted his conjecture and laid it out for her.

"This girl was the one who attacked you, but she has no idea what

happened to the troll. Perhaps she was being unconsciously used, or a

separate perpetrator just so happened to act at the same time…"

"If that's the case, then we can't use her to obtain their identity," Chela

muttered as she crossed her arms. The three of them looked at one another

as Mackley shrank into herself, quiet as a mouse.

Kimberly had numerous school-run shops where students could buy snacks,

drinks, an assortment of magical tools, and everyday essentials. The

beverage corner in particular kept a constant stock of over twenty varieties

of drinks, which were rotated on a constant basis except for the most

popular staples. Ambitious new products often appeared: For example, the

bloody orange juice from a few months ago was quite literally a cocktail of

orange juice and chicken blood. According to the older students, it was

"still drinkable; much better than the name suggested."

"Here, Oliver. You get the purple one."

"...…Thanks." Oliver handed Guy a coin for his trouble and took the

bottle of noxious-colored liquid. More often than not, when buying new

products at random, they'd pull a dud, but the risk was what drew the

students in. Rather than the safe, tasty drink, it was the unknown they

flocked to—perhaps this was part of being a mage.

"…This thing just never ends," Oliver said as he cautiously popped the

cork.

Sitting next to him, Chela had a flaming-red bottle in her hand.

"Yes, it's like trying to capture a lizard and coming up with only its tail.

We still don't know anything about what set off the troll." As she spoke, she

took a swig of her drink. She let it sit in her mouth for a bit before

swallowing and frowned a bit. "…Angry Radish juice," she muttered. It

was a spicy magical vegetable used in smelling salts. Oliver was impressed

she only needed a frown to deal with the burn.

"However," she continued, "we do know that this magical trap was set

up by a first-year Ms. Mackley is acquainted with. As we expected, there is

a conservative faction of new students who are out to make trouble for

Katie."

"Rather than trying to find this other person, we should try to stop their

actions before things get out of hand. If we leave them alone, the bullying

will only escalate. Nanao and Pete might get caught in the cross fire, too."

Voicing his concerns, Oliver took a swig from his bottle himself.

Suddenly, an intensely fishy taste raced through his throat and pierced his

nose. This was definitely not the smell of something drinkable, but the taste

was familiar. It was the mucus from a sea slug, which was often used as a

component in magical drugs. Oliver struggled to keep the contents of his

stomach down.

"I'm concerned about that as well… Perhaps we need to consider a more

political response," Chela ruminated.

Oliver waited for the assault on his mouth to subside before responding.

"You could say we haven't been treating this seriously enough. But—"

As he spoke, he watched the scene before him. They were at the magical

beasts compound that they'd visited before, together with Nanao, Guy, and

Pete. Katie chugged her drink and, rolling up her sleeves, approached the

troll cage.

"I'm back! Today's the day we become friends!"

"Ha-ha, you sure are motivated. But there's no need to rush. He doesn't

seem very happy today," Miligan warned as Katie rushed ahead.

The troll was curled up in a corner of the cage. It uttered a low growl,

like a warning signal against humans.

"Most of Kimberly's trolls are used to humans, but this poor creature's

been like this ever since the incident at the parade," said Miligan. "Won't

even touch his food. He just keeps growing weaker."

"He's scared, the poor thing," Katie said with pity. A bowl of troll food

in one hand, she sidled up to the cage and called out to it. "Hey, there. It's

okay. I'm not your enemy. You must be hungry, right? Have some food."

"..."

The troll remained curled up, merely staring at the girl. Katie wondered

how she could get it to be less wary of her—and then an idea occurred to

her. "Ms. Miligan, what's in this?"

"? It's just your normal grain porridge. Why?"

"Then it's fine if I eat some?"

Miligan's eyes went wide. Without waiting for a response, Katie stuck

her hand into the bowl, scooped up some of the goop, and put it in her

mouth. She chewed the bland, unseasoned boiled grains and swallowed.

"See? It's fine. Nothing bad mixed in," she said to the troll with a smile.

Then she sat down and pushed the bowl slightly through the iron bars. "It's

no fun to eat alone, is it? Let's eat together."

No one could say a word to stop her. They all knew this was her way of

trying to get the creature to open up.

Oliver smiled as he watched from a distance; he and Chela sighed at the

same time.

"…I don't think I have the heart to tell Katie to be more mindful of what

others think."

"Indeed… For better or for worse, Kimberly is full of strong wills. Katie

is still growing; I don't want to force a young sprout to bend," Chela said

with a sincere look.

Oliver nodded in agreement. "We'll just have to gain more allies among

our class and the upperclassmen," he added. "That'll be the biggest

deterrent against anyone who would mean her harm."

"Yes. In that sense, this friendship with Ms. Miligan is a stroke of good

luck. A fourth-year who's skilled, respectable, and pro-demi-human—I

don't think Katie could find a more reliable ally," Chela said as she watched

the witch standing behind Katie. She then turned to Oliver. "As for gaining

more allies on campus, I'll do my best to round some up. Have you any

leads?"

"Like I said before, my cousins are students here… If I explain the

situation, they might lend a hand."

Chela cocked her head at his less-than-certain tone. "You don't seem

very enthused about the prospect."

"It'll be like telling them I can't handle my own problems not even a

month into the semester… I'd hoped I wouldn't need to ask for their help

until much later down the road."

Oliver closed his eyes and sighed.

A smile appeared on Chela's lips. "I very much like that about you,

Oliver."

"…? It just sounded like pathetic whining to me."

"No. You have pride in your heart, but you have no problem prioritizing

your friends' safety. And I very much like that quality." She earnestly

praised her friend—but the next moment, her expression clouded over.

"Perhaps Mr. Andrews could have turned out the same…if he hadn't had

me to deal with."

She bitterly chewed her lip. Oliver had lost count of how many times

she'd blamed herself for that. But even knowing that, as a friend by her

side, Oliver refused to let her.

While Katie attempted to communicate with the troll, Oliver and Chela held

a strategy meeting on how to improve their situation. Before they knew it,

weeks had passed—and things had only gotten worse.

"Hey, did you see her just now? She went to visit the troll again."

Just before afternoon class was about to start, one of the students

gathered in the spellology classroom started gossiping to his friends. Those

who heard snorted derisively.

"I can't believe she hangs out with those dumb, barbaric creatures. Birds

of a feather, I guess."

They all snickered at the open insult. Since Katie wasn't in the room,

they didn't bother to keep their voices down.

"..."

Oliver, sitting in a corner of the classroom, pricked up his ears. Every

day it seemed as if the gossip about his friend got worse. Trying his best to

keep calm, he couldn't help but feel a deep shame.

"I mean, she can do what she wants, but I wish she'd at least bathe after.

She brings that troll's stench here and stinks up the classroom!"

"Ah-ha-ha! Hey, that's going too far!"

The students held their noses in mockery.

Oliver gritted his teeth hard. It was a terrible lie. Katie always made sure

to have a deodorizing magical ointment on hand so that she didn't gross out

the other students. It was true that trolls had a unique body odor, but she'd

never brought that into the classroom. She was a considerate girl, after all,

and had never once forgotten to do her due diligence.

"…The hell's their problem?"

Guy angrily made to stand up from his seat, but Oliver grabbed his arm.

"Guy, Pete, just ignore them. There's no point in starting a fight here."

"I'm certainly not gonna get involved… They're just so blatant about it

nowadays, though," Pete said as he flicked through his textbook. The gossip

continued.

"Speaking of birds of a feather, her friends are a bunch of freaks, too,

y'know?"

"Oh, totally. Like that samurai!"

"What a joke. Even after her seventh spellology class, she still can't cast

a single fire spell. That girl seriously can't do anything except swing a

sword around."

The small crowd burst out into cackling laughter.

Guy's lips twisted with anger. "…Now they're making fun of Nanao,

too. Bastards."

"Petty fools. Do they think belittling others makes them better?"

"..."

Oliver stared down in silence. The topic of the students' gossip then

turned back to Katie.

"Hey, guess what—I saw that Aalto girl talking to a troll once."

"What? She actually talks to that thing? How?"

"I know, right? …Pfft! It's hilarious… She just, like, grunts!"

"Huh? Grunts? …Like, troll grunts?"

"Yeah, yeah! Exactly like a troll! It's the weirdest sound!" The kid

slapped his leg and laughed. But as if that wasn't enough, he started

imitating the sound. "Yeah, she goes like this: HOO! FOH! FOOH!"

"Pfft—ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Oh my god, what even is that?"

"Ugh, she's so gross! That's hilarious!"

The students continued their mockery with abandon. This was no longer

quiet gossip at all. Guy balled his fist tight.

"…Hey. Do I still have to sit and listen to this?"

"..."

Oliver said nothing but gripped his friend's arm firmly. Don't do

anything you'll regret, he tried to say. If they let their emotions get the

better of them and started a fight, the conflict would become more public

and earn them more enemies. Not only would a possible resolution become

even less attainable, but it would only end up hurting Katie further.

"Huff! Huff! …We made it!"

"We were almost late again!"

Just then, completely unaware of the situation, Katie and Nanao came

running in. The students instantly went quiet. Surely they weren't brazen

enough to keep this up in front of her.

"Here she is! The expert herself!"

"Huh?"

But Oliver's hopes were dashed. The boy who'd led the mockery

attempted to involve the victim herself, now that she'd unwittingly

stumbled into the midst of it. The students around him were surprised for a

moment, but they quickly joined the flow.

"Hey, do the troll calls. They're your specialty, right?"

"Is this how it goes? HOH! FOO!"

"Huh? U-um…"

The poor girl was extremely confused by the commotion. But to the

heartless students, that just made it funnier.

"Hey, what's the matter? You forget how to speak human?"

"See? That's what you get for doing troll noises all day."

"Tough luck, Aalto! This classroom's for humans!"

"If you love that troll enough to visit it every day, why don't you go

shack up with it already?"

Please shut your damn mouths, Oliver thought. All the filth they were

flinging at her made him dizzy. If anything, the opposite was true: If this

classroom was for humans, then the bullies were the ones who didn't

belong. Why weren't they all locked up in cages? If they couldn't recognize

the vulgarity of their own actions, daring to laugh at a girl trying earnestly

to save a life, then how were they any better than beasts?

Nanao couldn't just watch her friend be insulted, and Guy's patience had

run out a long time ago.

"Scum…"

"Hey, you pieces of sh—"

They both started to defend her when—

"Fragor."

—a violent magical explosion above their heads instantly halted all the

bullying.

"Gyah!"

"Uwah!"

"Yeek…!"

The students who had been laughing at Katie screamed from the sudden

blast and rain of sparks. The class fell silent for a few seconds—then those

who realized where the spell had originated one by one turned their eyes to

the caster.

"Y-you!"

"What the hell was that for?!"

They glared daggers at Oliver. He was standing with his right arm in the

air, wand still smoking.

"H-hey, Oliver…?" Guy said nervously. Oliver's expression remained

frozen.

"How are you in a fight, Guy?" he asked shortly. The resolve in his eyes

was strong. Guy gaped for a second at Oliver's stark change in demeanor—

but the next moment, he flashed an incredibly satisfied grin.

"…Ha-ha-ha. I like you even more now," he replied and took a short

breath. He punched his left palm with his right fist. "Leave the fighting to

me. I ain't a farmer's son for nothin'."

"Don't forget the daughter of a warrior," came a voice from the

classroom entrance. Nanao stood resolutely next to the shocked Katie.

Hearing the taunts, the problem students flew into a rage.

"Wh-what the hell's your problem?"

"You wanna go?!"

Everyone drew their wands. No one made for their athames, not even

Oliver—a last bit of self-restraint. Even so, there was no stopping the fight

now. One student cast a spell in retaliation. Guy dropped low to dodge it,

then planted the sole of his boot in their face and sent them flying.

The entire classroom descended into chaos.

"…I have no words…," Chela muttered, sighing deeply as she looked at her

friends in the dim room. The fighting hadn't lasted even five minutes before

an instructor came running. All the combatants were restrained, and

naturally, Oliver and the others were tossed into the detention room.

"I took down five of 'em. I've got no regrets."

"Indeed, I sent ten of those villains flying!"

A nasty blue bruise rimmed Guy's right eye, while Nanao appeared

completely unharmed. Both proudly stated their accomplishments. They'd

been shoved into smaller rooms separated by thin dividers, known as

discipline cells. Katie and Pete, who hadn't participated in the fighting,

weren't punished. They were here at the detention room with Chela, who

had been attending a different class.

"Guy and Nanao, I hate to say this, but…well, I wouldn't expect

otherwise. However, Oliver… I can't believe you're here, too."

It had come as a great shock to learn that Oliver had landed the first

blow. He stared at the floor and gritted his teeth in the dark, cramped cell.

"…I have no excuse. Go ahead—rake me over the coals," he lifelessly

managed to say.

Unable to bear seeing him in this state, Katie flung herself against the

iron bars of his cell's tiny window. "I could never do that…!" she wailed,

violently shaking her head. Her greatest regret was that she had been too

stunned to participate in the fight. It hurt her more than anything to not be

punished alongside her friends. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry, Oliver…! You got

angry for my sake, didn't you? You, Nanao, Guy… If only I'd defended

myself, this wouldn't have happened…!"

"No… No, you're wrong, Katie. This isn't your fault. I just couldn't

keep myself in check when I needed to. That's all," Oliver said, thinking

back on what he'd done, and put his head in his hands.

In the cell to his right, Guy snorted. "Who cares? Gossip's one thing, but

those jerks were insulting you right to your face. If you're gonna snap,

that's the time, in my opinion," he said, not a shadow of regret on his face.

Katie wiped her tears and turned to him. Honestly, she was the most

surprised to see Guy there in the detention room.

"…Guy, it made you angry when they were making fun of me, too?"

"Eh? Uh, yeah. They were saying shit about my friend. Course I'm

gonna be mad," Guy replied blankly. The differences in their opinions over

demi-humans that had continued since the day they met were irrelevant as

far as he was concerned.

Katie smiled, tears in her eyes. Next to her, Chela sighed.

"…I have no intention of lecturing you for what's in the past. Personally,

I agree with Guy. But now, thanks to this incident, our conflict with those

students will be impossible to reconcile." She sympathized while also

stating the harsh truth. Oliver nodded bitterly. Now that he was stuck in a

cell, all the responsibility was on Chela. "The students who bullied Katie

are probably looking for allies at the moment. Since you have a McFarlane

on your side, they will be wanting an ally of similar noble stature. As for

who would join them… Oliver, I think you already know."

Oliver gritted his teeth again. He'd had a bad feeling that fight could

serve to fuse all the problems they'd been dealing with into one giant threat.

The conversation died, replaced with a heavy silence. Suddenly, the faint

fluttering of wings broke the quiet.

"Oh…"

"A familiar?"

A small bat had flown in through the room's entrance and was circling

above Chela's head. She extended her pointer finger as a makeshift perch,

and the animal quickly landed. Tied to its neck was a sealed letter, which

she took and opened. After reading it, she announced its contents to the

room.

"Speak of the devil, I suppose. Oliver, Nanao—Mr. Andrews has

challenged you both to a duel."

Now, Oliver knew, his worst fears had been realized.