To tell the truth,
No matter how powerful a magician Katia might be, this was eight against one. And of those eight, six were wielders of Bloodline Magic, with the remaining two possessing special skills that approached that level.
They had a fair degree of coordination, with a well-balanced formation of two in the vanguard, five in the midline, and one in the rear. The crowning advantage was the informational superiority of having Ermes—the linchpin—who understood her magic down to every detail.
With all these conditions met, victory was virtually assured. They were so overwhelming that their own exhaustion became a trivial concern.
That was precisely why they hadn't split into two teams—one to pin down Katia and the other to destroy the crystal. Instead, they'd chosen to take her down right here, once and for all.
Yes, and so.
"...I feel like I've had this exact same thought before, somehow."
On the battlefield where the dust had settled, the silver-haired girl Nina murmured.
"—Seriously, what *are* you two? Both master and servant are way too good at winning hopeless fights, aren't you?"
To state the conclusion first: they had won.
Currently, Katia sat on the ground, breathing heavily, with Nina's sword pointed at her. It was unmistakably a checkmate situation.
—But on the other hand,
Ermes's side—the Class B team—had also suffered grievous damage. Only four remained standing: Ermes, Nina, Albert, and Sara.
—No, "grievous damage" didn't even begin to cover it. Let me rephrase.
Only four remained: Ermes on the verge of collapse, Nina with her limbs still twitching, Albert who had only recently gotten back on his feet, and Sara who was effectively out of the fight from magic depletion.
The other four had been crushed early on by the sheer overwhelming force of Katia's Bloodline Magic. The remaining four, as could be seen, had not a shred of strength left in them.
Therefore, to put the conclusion succinctly:
In a match that was nearly a guaranteed win—
They had been driven
to the very brink
of defeat.
Nina wore an expression evenly mixed with shock and awe—probably holding the same emotions she'd felt during her first clash with Ermes.
And Ermes, in his own way, harbored a similar feeling, understanding now what Nina must have thought at that time. Yes, this was genuinely terrifying.
No wonder he didn't feel like he'd won at all. After all, when you had eight people go up against one and this was the result, the cost-benefit was absurdly lopsided.
...Ermes thought to himself that he was truly grateful Katia's Bloodline Magic leaned toward defense rather than offense.
If it had been offense-oriented like Aster's—then, in the worst case,
just her
alone
could have
wiped out
all of
Class B
entirely.
He renewed his respect for his master's true power.
...That said, a win was a win. In this very moment, they had the right to claim the fruits that came with it.
For the time being, Nina spoke while keeping her sword pointed at Katia.
"So, Katia, would you care to surrender? I don't want to have to strike you either."
"..."
Katia sat there with her cheeks puffed out in an unmistakably sulky expression.
Having lost, she'd presumably calmed down somewhat—she'd snapped out of whatever switch had been flipped earlier. Still, putting that aside, she was genuinely frustrated at having lost. That much was plain to see.
But refusing to acknowledge defeat would go against her sense of honor. Though clearly disgruntled, she raised both hands.
"...Fine. You win—yes, it was a magnificent battle."
"I'd sooner be the one saying those words to you, honestly."
"Y-Yes. ...That was truly... incredible magic."
Following Nina, Sara offered her heartfelt praise as well. Katia's mouth softened ever so slightly at the words of her two friends, but still looking somewhat sour, she flopped onto the ground. It was a clear signal that she would accept no further attacks.
Understanding this, the four moved on. At the last moment, Ermes turned toward her and, with a multitude of emotions, bowed his head.
"...Mmm."
Katia fixed him with a gaze that was simultaneously adorable and resentful.
...He needed to think about what came next as well. With that thought, Ermes bowed even more deeply.
And so, the tide of the confrontation was decided.
But by the rules, the match was not yet over. One final task remained.
To complete it, the four walked forward together. As their destination drew near, Nina suddenly seemed to come up with something and stepped in front of Ermes.
"Hey, El. I have a favor to ask—
Would you let
me
be the one
to do it?"
"Hm? ...Sure, go ahead."
Ermes was momentarily taken aback, but from her expression and the state of their destination, he more or less guessed what she wanted.
With a wry smile, he nodded. Nina stepped lightly to the front of the group and stopped before their destination—the Class A crystal.
"Then, if you don't mind."
She smiled sweetly at the lone male student standing there in a daze before the crystal, and declared:
"—The Class A class president who couldn't do
a single thing
from the very beginning
to the very end?
If you'd be so kind, would you like to share how you're feeling right now?"
Upon receiving those devastatingly harsh words wrapped in a deceptively gentle tone,
Clyde, the Class A president, twisted his already despairing expression into something even more wretched.
"...Honestly, I'm a little surprised."
With Clyde still standing there frozen, Ermes voiced a simple question.
"Given his personality... I thought he might have unlocked his Bloodline Magic if Class A was pushed into a corner, regardless of any restrictions from his family."
"Ah, about that."
It was Nina who answered.
"I agree that he's the type who might. —But in this particular case, there's no need to worry about that."
"Hm? Why not?"
"Simple enough."
Tilting her head, Nina raised her index finger and explained.
"...I don't know the details myself, but from what I've heard, Clyde's Bloodline Magic—
isn't a direct combat type."
"—I see."
It was an extremely straightforward and understandable reason.
"Right. It's probably the kind that doesn't shine much in a confrontation match. That's why he never used it before, and I don't think there's any risk of it being used now. Meaning we can destroy it without a care in the world—"
"! They're coming!"
Noticing the sharp look Nina directed at him, Clyde stumbled backward.
There was no need to warily guard against him. That left one remaining question—Ermes turned to the other three.
"...So, who should do it?"
Who among them would earn the honor of the final task—destroying the crystal? Ermes asked, but an answer came before he could even blink.
"...I think Ermes should be the one."
Surprisingly, it was Sara. She stated it meekly but firmly, refusing to yield.
"The greatest contributor is... without a doubt, you."
"Agreed. No one would object at this point."
"Right?"
At her words, the other two nodded in agreement without hesitation.
Ermes was slightly taken aback, but all three wore expressions of complete seriousness. Unable to refuse in good conscience, he gave a quiet nod, turned around, and walked toward the crystal—toward Clyde.
"H-hey!"
Seeing this, Clyde retreated further, but when his back hit the crystal and he realized there was no escape, he let out a yelp.
"—This result is absurd! We're Class A! Why did we lose? What on earth happened?!"
"...I'm not sure what you mean by 'what happened.' Everything that's occurring right now is right before your eyes."
"Sh-shut up! Th-there—you must have cheated somehow! Or else Katia wasn't really going all out—if she had, then—"
"No matter how much you shout, the referee hasn't stopped the match, so nothing is being overturned here. And also—if you say that Katia wasn't going all out after watching that battle... I will get angry."
His feeble objections were calmly shut down. He was even intimidated into silence, having nearly touched a nerve.
Still apparently unable to accept being silenced, Clyde glared at Ermes with undisguised resentment.
"Why...! If there's a reason for us losing, then tell me!"
"...A reason?"
The reason Class A lost. In other words, the reason Class B won—the cause of victory.
Confronted with that question once more, there was not a moment's hesitation before his answer.
"Because we trained harder than you."
"...What?"
At those words delivered so matter-of-factly, Clyde was dumbstruck. Paying him no mind, Ermes continued.
"We accumulated more combat training than you did. We studied our opponents more thoroughly than you did. We devised countermeasures. We practiced in real combat. We ingrained all of it into our bodies. And when it came to the real thing—we performed to a greater extent than you did."
In short, meeting Clyde's gaze with his emerald eyes—
"We didn't slack off on the effort needed to win, and that's why we won. —Let me ask in reverse: how could you possibly believe in your own victory when you were inferior in every single one of those areas?"
To him, it was an entirely self-evident reason.
But to Clyde—to someone who proclaimed a new ideology in this kingdom yet never actually escaped the same old values—not a single word of it rang true.
Doubt still surely churned inside him. But Ermes no longer cared. He spoke flatly.
"If you understand... —no, whether you understand or not doesn't matter. Would you please just surrender already? Honestly, fighting is getting tedious."
Hearing those words, Clyde erupted in rage with absurd ease. He stood and charged directly at Ermes.
"Don't screw with me! You think I'd cave to some empty threat like tha—guh!"
A response that Ermes, having learned his patterns well by now, had already anticipated. Clyde's foot caught on a pre-placed earthen protrusion, sending him face-first into the ground, where a reinforced universal magic ice projectile struck the back of his head—down with the most efficient magic application and the fewest possible moves.
Without so much as a glance at Clyde lying sprawled on the ground, Ermes used the same type of magic to destroy the crystal in one clean strike.
'...Th-the winner is... Class B!'
The announcer's bewildered declaration rang out.
A moment later, a roar filled with mingled confusion and excitement swelled from the audience.
Among the spectators, there was surely no one who knew the full extent of the mind games and drama that had led to this victory.
But the result spoke for itself. That Class B had defeated Class A—of this, at least, no one could possibly deny.
(...Whew, that was exhausting.)
Only then did Ermes finally let his shoulders drop and sink to the ground.
It really was exhausting after all... he reflected in a daze, when Nina approached and crouched down beside him.
"Mm."
She thrust her fist forward, for no apparent reason.
"...Nina? Um, what's this for?"
"You know, that thing guys always do after a fight. I've always wanted to try it once. Come on, you two as well!"
Once she'd confirmed Ermes's understanding, Nina gestured with her other hand for Albert and Sara to join.
Albert seemed to grasp it immediately from just looking, showing the faintest hint of something less than his usual scowling expression as he extended his fist.
Ermes did the same, and the three hands stopped just short of each other.
Then—
"...U-um."
Sara looked at them with a somewhat uncertain expression.
She understood what they were about to do, but was hesitant—unsure if she should really join in.
Nina and Albert both regarded her with faint exasperation.
"Come on, it's not the same if the class president doesn't join! Just because you didn't fight directly doesn't mean you should hold back—it'd be an insult!"
"Indeed. In my eyes, you're one of the top contributors. It would be unthinkable to exclude you here."
Sara nodded sincerely at their words, and finally Ermes added—in his own way, something brief but meaningful.
"If you hadn't been here, I wouldn't be standing here at all. ...Please, join us."
"!"
Sara's eyes widened slightly. After a beat—
"...Okay."
She broke into a radiant, flower-blooming smile,
ran over, and extended her loosely clenched fist to meet theirs.
And then—with a soft tap.
As a ritual to celebrate victory and valor. As a wordless oath of camaraderie between comrades-in-arms.
Four fists, each different in their own way, lightly struck together at the center of the four.
...He felt that he had been avoiding involvement with others until now.
Outside of those truly close to him, he had drawn a clear line. He'd believed that sharpening his own outlines and bringing his feelings into focus was the shortcut to improving his magic.
But she had stopped him. She had shown him the potential of someone who waited on the other side of continued belief.
And now, exchanging the warmth of fists and smiles with those he'd connected with—
(...I see.)
Having witnessed firsthand the shape of the feelings that existed between himself and others, Ermes thought:
"...This is beautiful too."
His quiet yet unmistakable murmur.
It served as the closing note to the long-concluded confrontation.