"That's obviously impossible."
A few days ago.
This was the day after Katia had taken Sara away from those two—Clyde, who had barged into Sara's home to broach the subject of a transfer, and Illumina, who had tried to force the matter through while ignoring Sara's own wishes.
Sara had returned to the Hartmann house once. To retrieve her belongings, and—to talk to Illumina one more time.
She couldn't bring herself to just part ways like that, no matter what. Whatever Illumina's intentions had been, it was a fact that she had raised Sara up to this point.
More than anything, even if the good memories were far too few... they were still family.
So she returned home and told Illumina straight out, this time for certain: that from now on she would be under the care of the Trackia family, and that she wanted to find "herself"—she could no longer be Illumina's projection.
And Illumina's response, having heard her out, was—that.
"There's no way I'd allow that. Do you have any idea how many years I spent raising you?"
With thick, hatred-and-resentment-filled eyes and voice, the mother spoke haltingly.
"Fifteen years. Do you understand how heavy those fifteen years since your birth are? All that time, I watched over you and drilled everything into you. Your gestures, your appearance, your intellect—all of it, every last bit! I engraved it all into you solely so you'd become a princess, so you'd be noticed by a fine gentleman, so you could do what I never could! And now you're throwing me away to become a different person!? There's no way you can do that—what an absurdly naive, delusional way of thinking!"
Her breathing grew heavier toward the end. But after finishing in one breath, Illumina opened her eyes wide, the corners of her mouth drawn up violently in a ghastly smile, and thrust it at her.
"I'll tell you this straight.——
You will never
become anything."
"!"
"It's far too late now! After fifteen years of only ever doing as I said, you have no path left but to become me! An ungrateful, unfilial daughter—casting me aside while seeking happiness for herself? Don't you dare think that will be allowed!!"
The words pouring from her mouth wrapped around Sara like curses.
"The moment you threw me away, you became empty! There's nothing left in you that could be called a 'self'! A foolish girl who can't do a single thing on her own—aren't you lucky to have such kind-hearted friends who feel sorry for you!"
"You—"
"You're going to go follow them, aren't you? Go right ahead, then! That's exactly where you belong—forever kept as a duke's sheltered young lady who never became anything, until the day you die!"
With those words as the last.
Sara left the Hartmann house. As if she had been driven out—or perhaps, as if she were fleeing.
Because inside her, she could not find anything sufficient to answer the words her mother had spat at her.
◆
And now—the present.
"Is... is that everyone who was wounded...?"
Near the barrier she had erected with Spirit Veil, she ceaselessly cast healing through Star Corolla.
Having exhausted every ounce of the magical power she had been given in order to protect the academy, Sara asked.
"Ah, yes. But Lady Sara... are you all right?"
The one who answered—and simultaneously asked—was a Class B student nearby.
Perhaps because of the enormous amount of magic power she had consumed in such a short time, cold sweat had broken out across her skin, and her breathing was terribly labored.
"You are the linchpin of our defense. There's no need to rush healing for wounded non-combatants..."
"No... I'm fine, really."
It was a well-meaning piece of advice, but Sara understood it and still cut him off.
"I'm fine. This is exactly what I'm here for... I'll protect everyone, I promise. Please... let me protect them."
Those words seemed as much for herself as for anyone else.
—You will never become anything.
The words her mother had spoken a few days ago echoed inside her.
...I don't want that, she thought.
She hated being carried along by the current. She wanted something solid to hold on to.
For that sake, she had been trying her best in her own way. She wanted to find within herself something she could point to as proof—something tangible, something she could call "me."
She thought she had accomplished various things. Yet she still hadn't been able to find real confidence.
So, at the very least, she wanted to do what she could with the magic she was born with. That was the only solid thing supporting who she was right now.
With that resolve, she raised her heavy, exhausted head, looked forward, and declared:
"I won't let the barrier fall. I'll heal every last wounded person. So please, don't hold back—"
"—Ah, you really are too kind. To think you'd direct that compassion at even these people."
The very moment she thought the voice had come from nowhere—
"Wha—!?"
Something pitch-black enveloped her, and before she could react, she was yanked away along with it at tremendous force.
Without even time to scream, she was spirited away to parts unknown.
◆
"—!"
The moment she came to, she grasped two things: that she had been abducted, and that she had probably lost consciousness for a brief time.
She immediately took in her surroundings—but nothing resembling the academy was visible. All around her were black walls of the same type as the ones covering the academy. Yet somehow a dim, constant light source had been maintained—a peculiar contradiction.
...Sara assessed the situation with her own unique sense.
These black walls were most likely the same type of magic as her own Spirit Veil. As far as she could tell, someone had exploited a gap in her barrier, trapped her inside this magic, and abducted her.
And the culprit was—
"...Well well. You're awake, Lady Sara."
Standing before her in the sealed-off space, spreading his arms in leisurely welcome—Clyde von Helmoot.
A grin of delight on his face—one of the chief culprits behind the entire affair.
"............"
Sara reined in her confusion, let her thoughts race, and continued assessing her surroundings.
—It's all right. The barrier I set up is still intact. I'm still protecting the students. From her sense of magic power, she could tell she was merely trapped within the black-wall magic and hadn't been taken far from her current location.
But there was no guarantee it would stay that way. And the one holding the key to what happened next was Clyde, standing right before her. In that case...
"...What is it you want, Clyde?"
First, she needed to understand his objective. When she called out to him with that purpose, he replied in a tone positively brimming with joy—
"—Why, I've come to save you, of course!"
............
"...Huh."
She was genuinely caught off guard.
Perhaps reading from her reaction that she didn't understand, Clyde spoke again.
"I don't blame you for not understanding. Even I only realized it after being told. ...You see, the ones who are wrong are the people at that academy."
"..."
"They're beyond saving. They can't even begin to grasp the aspirations of those who want to change this country. Yes—so I've decided to make them into stepping stones. A tribute from those who truly care about this nation, and a grand debut for my magnificent magic!"
—She had heard it from Ermes, but it seemed Clyde really was the one who had prepared the monsters. And from the sound of it... he had no qualms whatsoever about involving everyone at the academy. In fact, that was his primary objective.
Clyde continued.
"But you see, even within that rotten academy, there are things that shine. —And that is you, Lady Sara!"
"..."
"That loving heart of yours, which seeks to protect every last one of those dust-like people at the academy—it's truly magnificent. But... that's exactly what makes it such a waste. You are directing it at the wrong people, fatally so!"
With exaggerated gestures delivered in deadly earnest, his speech continued unabated, wrapped in ecstasy.
"That's why I called you here, and why I had monsters attack the academy—to show you. Surely you see now: those people are nothing but dead weight you've been protecting. Surely you'd rather direct your feelings toward someone more... more worthy than the likes of them!!"
As for who this "someone more worthy" was supposed to be—it didn't take a genius to figure out.
Finally, as his closing gesture, Clyde extended his hand straight toward Sara.
"So come on. Throw those people aside—and come to me, to us, won't you?"
He declared it without a shred of hesitation.
His expression shone with an unwavering blend of desire and righteousness, utterly convinced that he alone had come to rescue the poor princess—with absolutely no room for doubt.
Seeing that, she understood.
And so she let out a quiet breath, relaxed somehow, and smiled.
It was a smile that conveyed anything but something positive. It was the kind that might come from having witnessed something cruel, or from having given up on something entirely.
But Clyde couldn't possibly have caught that nuance. Rather, he took it as an affirmation and spread his arms joyfully—
"...How sad."
At the sound of those words, he froze.
Even he must have noticed it. The undertone in her voice that carried an intent diametrically opposed to acceptance.
"...I'm going to tell you about a very convenient notion I used to have."
Now it was her turn to speak.
"I always believed that... 'if you just talk, people will understand.' That no matter how terrible a person might be, there were always reasons that led them there. And if you properly understood those reasons and tried not to go down the same path... then surely anyone could reach an understanding."
She wasn't sure if the stunned Clyde was even listening, but she continued, as if confessing everything up to this point.
"Silly, isn't it? But it was the only wish that made me feel like I had a 'self.' ...And I thought I could do it. That the courage I'd mustered had paid off, that things were going well... More than anything, because the person I admired most had actually listened to me and changed her mind. ...I think I was getting carried away."
But at that point, Sara lowered her tone.
"That was as far as things went well. Mother, and you as well. ...There are people in this world whom you simply cannot understand, cannot reach... and they're far closer than you'd ever think."
"..."
"My wish was nothing but a fantasy. 'Fairy tales' don't exist anywhere, and they can't be made. I've finally understood that... no, I've finally accepted it."
Clyde's expression... hadn't changed at all. He would never be able to understand this through indirect words.
Thinking that, Sara took a breath and deliberately made her voice cold.
"—I'm sorry. I cannot accept your offer."
She said it flatly, definitively.
"I cannot understand your way of thinking. I cannot empathize with it, nor... have I ever wanted to."
"...What? No—what—what are you saying?"
Clyde was visibly thrown into confusion.
"Ah, I see—you're being manipulated, that's it. Otherwise someone as kind-hearted as you would never say such things."
"This is my true feeling. If anyone should be able to tell whether someone is being manipulated, it's you—the one who controls monsters."
He had never received an outright rejection from Sara before.
Because she had been so careful, avoiding direct expressions. His obsession with her, combined with his nature, had twisted her words time and again, and he had flatly refused to recognize the truth.
But now.
For the first time, she had thrown her rejection straight at him—in an ironic situation where there was no escape. And he finally understood. Even if his mind wouldn't admit it, the situation, the logic of it all, had made it clear.
That she had absolutely no intention of accepting him.
And as Clyde still tried to twist together some kind of justification, Sara drove the final nail in, speaking in the same gentle, sorrowful tone as before.
"You said I was 'directing my feelings at the wrong people'—but if I could only save either you or the people at the academy, I would choose the latter without hesitation. ...You, who can't change a single thing about your thinking and throw tantrums like a spoiled child—you're the one who's pathetic... and pitiful."
"..."
Coming from anyone else it would have been harsh—but coming from her, it was devastatingly so.
Having received that, Clyde's eyes went wide as if he had finally grasped everything, and he went rigid.
And then.
The obsession of men like this—inverts into hatred in an instant.
"Ah, I was wrong about you... you really are beyond saving!!"
The moment Clyde screamed, a deep, rumbling roar thundered from behind him.
Right after, passing through the black wall, an earth-colored shadow of tremendous size appeared.
Reptilian scales, a long neck. Both its tough, hard limbs and its enormous wings brimmed with an overwhelmingly violent aura. The emotions dwelling in its golden eyes with their slit pupils were, as one would expect, nothing but killing intent.
The name of this monster was known to all.
"...Dragon species..."
"Yes! A genuine, pure-blooded dragon—one of the earth dragons lurking deep within the Dungeon! Not even Phantom Species can compare! Even a monster like this can be brought under my control!"
Clyde spoke with undisguised pride. And what he would do next was obvious.
"Fine! If those outdated relics are so precious to you—then I'll take care of them all in one go! Starting with you!"
"...Ahaha."
A dry laugh escaped her at his utterly impulsive behavior.
"...Very well. The pitiful you and the empty me. It's a hopeless fight, but I'm sure it suits us both."
With a voice tinged with something like resignation, Sara too raised her magic power in response. She would resist as best she could—steeling herself, she looked up at the earth dragon... but.
She immediately realized that was a mistake.
"Ahahaha! You're trembling!"
Looking up at it again, its sheer majesty was overwhelming. The vast quantity of magic power made it abundantly clear that the claim it could rival Phantom Species was no lie.
And above all... she had to face it alone. The things she could have endured during the Kerberos incident—when combined with that fact, they instantly turned to terror.
"That's right, isn't it? You're nothing but a support mage who can't do a thing on her own! For someone who put on such a brave front, you look awfully pathetic, don't you!"
"!"
The earth dragon's foreleg came crashing down.
She blocked it with her barrier in the nick of time, but the impact was far beyond what she had imagined. At this rate, she had no idea how many more blows she could withstand.
And above all—the primal terror, the trembling in the face of the carnage before her—simply would not stop.
"Are you scared!? Of course you're scared! Hoping someone from the academy might come to help, thinking about screaming 'help me'? It's no use—they're mostly useless cowards who can only tremble, and the ones who are fighting are barely holding their own against the main monster force!"
"Ngh, ugh...!"
"Even if someone could come, this barrier is surrounded by powerful quasi-dragon species. This wall can't be broken by mere Bloodline Magic! In other words—no one can come to your rescue!"
Clyde tormented Sara without mercy, seemingly emboldened by his certainty of absolute superiority, and repeated his triumphant monologue.
"This is what happens when you refuse my hand and chose to help worthless people, you hypocritical saint! And once you're gone, everyone at the academy will be wiped out—do you see? In the end, you can't save anyone!!"
Without hiding his expression of delight, Clyde declared triumphantly as if for his grand finale.
"You can't protect anything, and the academy people who do nothing but tremble behind your protection can't do anything either! No matter how you look at it, you're the ones who are worthless! Go on—if you're frustrated, if you're scared, then pathetically call for help! Not that anyone will come, of course—"
A tremendous shattering sound echoed through the space.
"—Huh?"
Realizing it was the sound of the black wall being smashed apart, Clyde stared at the breach and let out a stupefied voice.
At the same time, a second crash even more spectacular than the first. After a hole large enough for a person to pass through had been blown open, the one who emerged from it was—
"...Thank you ever so much for that wonderfully tedious lecture. Even while I was disposing of your quasi-dragons, listening to you nearly rotted my ears."
A silver-haired young man, wielding a great sword wreathed in purple flames of tremendous magical power.
"Now then. I fully understand that this is a terribly unmotivated, barbaric act—"
His fixed gaze harbored an emotion of absolute zero—the likes of which even he hadn't felt in a long time—and with an expressionless face, he locked eyes with Clyde.
"—Might I trouble you for just one punch?"
It was a terrifyingly quiet declaration.
And yet, sensing in his presence something more terrifying than anything else in this place—
Clyde took a step back without even realizing it.