A piercing sound echoed across one corner of the academy.
Both those defending the school building and those holed up inside turned their eyes toward it.
And they saw.
A writhing mass of black with countless eyes and squirming tentacles—a grotesque monster sent tumbling through the air.
—And running toward it, a boy wielding a greatsword and a beautiful girl bearing a halo of light.
For many, the details of what was happening likely eluded comprehension.
But every last one of them understood this much.
That creature was the ringleader behind the monsters currently attacking the school building.
And—those two charging to bring it down were their hope.
And so, the students prayed.
"Hang in there!"
Some of the students may have noticed that the boy was Ermes—the one they had all looked down on until now.
But it didn't matter anymore. They had learned just how powerless they were in this battle, more than they ever wanted to.
That was precisely why, now, they put their faith in him—the one boy in this school who had truly been a magician.
"Take him down!" "Please!"
Many voices could be heard. Many cheers at their backs. The boy who had been scorned by everyone at the time of his transfer was now someone in whom all placed their hope.
As a final punctuation to it all—the girl with violet hair let relief wash over her beautiful features.
Then, with a fearless grin, she declared to the retainer she trusted above all others:
"—Go, El."
I felt as though his answer reached me on the wind.
"Ahhhhh!!!"
The cowardly Clyde lashed out in a frenzy, slamming magical tentacles along with his scream.
But they didn't connect. Through the fighting so far, he had already perfected his understanding of his opponent's behavioral patterns.
And so, there was no way they could reach him. No matter how superior Clyde's base abilities were compared to Ermes's, there was simply no way he could lose against attacks he already understood.
As if to prove exactly that, Ermes slipped past every attack and brought down his greatsword of violet flames.
"————"
A voiceless scream echoed. Unlike before, with fear now gripping him completely, the pain must have felt all the more vivid.
As if he could endure no more, he enveloped himself in layers upon layers of tentacles. So that was his plan—to catch the blade and then seize it.
Then he would simply change his technique. With his current magic power, that would be easy enough to counter.
Formula Replay—
Fire Heaven Judgment
'
His former master's magic. A cataclysmic fire of the highest class of Bloodline Magic incinerated the arm guards along with everything else. Perhaps it was even ironic—a punishment directed at the one who had always sneered at his master in his heart.
Another scream thundered. Barely regenerating as he escaped the flames, he launched a desperate counterattack.
But it was all for nothing. Every one of Clyde's responses was completely nullified by the countless magic techniques Ermes possessed. The spells of the academy's students—the very techniques Clyde had always sneered at in his heart—came crashing down upon him like karmic retribution.
Even so, Clyde kept struggling, repeating desperate escapes and counterattacks to scrape by—but at last, ruin came.
"... '
Spirit Veil
'"
A calm, resolute voice. It didn't belong to Ermes.
When he looked, he saw that Sarah, having received the magic power, was also activating a spell.
And then he realized.
A cage of light had formed around the two of him and Ermes.
—He was trapped.
Escape was cut off, and so was any counterattack while fleeing.
Recognizing the situation correctly, Clyde broke into a cold sweat — though that function no longer served him.
Of course, with his current power, a constraint of this degree was nothing significant. Given a little time, breaking free would be easy.
…But on the flip side, that meant it would take a little time.
Naturally, the man before him would never let that happen.
"…A-ah…"
"Then, right on schedule."
In front of Clyde, who let out a moan of despair, Ermes declared:
"I'll have you burned and sliced to your heart's content. —Feel free to spend as many of those Monsters' lives as you like."
The blazing sword that had manifested once again was brought down like a guillotine.
(Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh——!!)
Hot. Painful. Suffocating. Pain—hot—pain—pain—pain—pain—
A strike of purple flame released at maximum output.
Clyde, who took it head-on, screamed inwardly as the greatest agony engulfed his entire body.
His whole body scorched and blistered. The searing blade carved into him mercilessly without pause, and the nauseating sensation of his insides being burned to a crisp drove him to the brink of madness. The only thing he could draw in with his breath was scorching air, making each breath the worst ordeal imaginable.
It was true hell—a space where no living being could survive, forcibly stuffed into it, where even the basic functions needed to sustain life became acts of destruction. The underworld was more than capable of easily snatching away a single life like Clyde's, and it swiftly ripped his consciousness away—
(—!!!)
But he woke up immediately. Was made to wake up.
Because he would revive.
The bat monster that had fused with his body desperately cycled magic power, using the lives of other monsters to deny him the right to die.
"Do not let my Boss die." That heartfelt loyalty drove it to fight with everything it had, protecting the life of its precious master above all else.
The result—the agony of hell never ended.
(Hurts, hurts…! A-ah, h-help me…!)
Pain, screaming, loss of mind, awakening. Pain, screaming, loss of mind, awakening—
For Clyde, it was an inescapable loop of sheer despair that gnawed away at his soul endlessly—a hellfire of retribution that continued for as many times as there were monster lives to burn.
Naturally, begging for salvation was pointless. The monsters who had once been his dependable subordinates had now become nothing more than a curse, only prolonging his suffering.
(Aaaaaaahhhh!! Why—why is this happening to me?! When did I ever commit sins terrible enough to deserve this?!)
The pain never dulled. To distract himself from it, he cursed the world. Unable to endure the endless despair, he kept screaming.
(I was only trying to change this country for the better! Even if reformers are hard to accept, there has to be a limit—is this country full of nothing but fools?!)
Still spitting out his grievances, he caught sight through the gaps between sword flashes.
The boy who continued to torment him—and beyond him, the figure of a girl.
…That girl was beautiful. Brimming with an overflow of pure, clear magic power and bearing a radiant halo of light, she was like an angel itself.
Even though she had already become the target of his rage, she was so beautiful that his heart was helplessly drawn to her.
And the fact that she was standing behind Ermes.
(Why…? She was supposed to be mine! She was supposed to shine the brightest under my guidance! To think she's been led astray by this man—it's wrong, it's wrong! Everything about this country is insane…!!)
The sight of it sent dark, murky jealousy and hatred surging toward Ermes. And the fact that the object of that hatred was now being passively subjected to judgment — as though it only proved he was getting what he deserved — made the dark emotions overflow all the more.
……But by now, there was nothing he could do.
His senses had already gone numb from the saturating pain, and he let out a soft breath, releasing all tension.
(……Ah. Good enough.)
His expression was one of resignation — but not because he had accepted his sins.
(The remaining Monsters are almost gone. I'm going to die. Fine. This country was so rotten there was nothing I could have done to change it. Ah, how pathetic I am — I only tried to do the right thing and ended up like this. If only I had been born somewhere better……!)
Without a shred of self-reflection, hating everyone but himself right to the very end.
He accepted only his death — in short, nothing more than escapism.
And so, at last, the Monsters meant for regeneration ran dry. His magic carved away the last of Clyde's life.
All that remained was to be sliced apart by that detestable sword — and he accepted it with a sullen, bitter air.
Defining himself as a tragically pitiful hero, wallowing in self-pity as he prepared to meet his end——
"—I'm sorry, but—"
That was the moment.
Ermes, of all people, dispelled the flame sword at the exact instant the Monster stock had been fully depleted.
Without ceremony, he simply reached out — and seized by the head the black Monster enveloping Clyde's exterior.
(?!)
"This saintess does not wish to take your life."
Sara's mercy.
Reading that from his words, Clyde caught a sliver of hope—
——But as if to prove it was nowhere near that simple.
Ermes narrowed his eyes slightly and spoke.
"So...
You will
live
properly
and pay
for what you've done."
"
(!!)
The instant Clyde grasped the cruelty behind those words, his eyes flew wide open.
"[O life that no longer exists, O heart without chains—
Gather at the manor of the calamitous star—
the honored banner of the feast stands here]"
At the same moment the chant that would hurl Clyde into ever deeper despair reached his ears,
"Formula Replay—'
The Ultimate Black of Ten Thousand Miles
'"
Ermes, having completed his analysis, activated the magic.
And then... Clyde...
was being stripped away.
He savored the sensation.
(No, no...! Stop, stop...!)
The black Monster clinging to him. The Monster that had granted him tremendous power.
He could feel it being torn away — Ermes, who had reproduced the same magic with far greater skill than Clyde, stripping it off while properly preserving "only Clyde" within.
"Stop — if you take that much away from me, I'll... I'll...!"
"...You really are alike to His Highness in all the worst ways, aren't you?"
The words came from a mouth that could already form proper speech — meaning he was nearly restored to human form — and Ermes's face twisted in disgust at them.
At the same time, with his thoughts growing clearer by the moment... Clyde once again realized it plainly.
The meaning of surviving here. The meaning of having "survived."
All that he had caused, all that he had done — as long as he was alive, he would inevitably have to atone for the enormous sin of it all.
"S-Stop... please...!"
"..."
There was no reply left to give. The only answer was the continued magic.
He would not be allowed to die steeped in his own self-delusion. Dying and escaping with a win would not be permitted.
He would live and atone, just as the words said. That was the greatest — the ultimate punishment for Clyde, one he would have thought death was preferable to.
And then, with a sharp crack—
He succeeded in completely separating the Monster from Clyde.
All that remained was a single boy — emaciated, utterly exhausted, but alive... having survived despite everything.
"Aah..."
Ermes and Sera looked down at Clyde as he stared blankly at the ground, each wearing a different expression.
He had turned the whole world against him, cast aside every ounce of the reputation he'd rightfully earned, watched as every ally he'd won was stripped away, and in the end, even the magic that formed the very core of his identity was taken from him.
And then, after enduring what felt like a lifetime of hellish suffering, what he was made to bear in its place was a karmic chain far too vast — a burden too heavy for a boy who had lost everything, something he could never repay no matter how many lifetimes he spent.
Deprivation, pain, and sin.
Power far beyond what he deserved had been lavished on him by those around him. He received it all, and in his delusion, believed every last bit of it was truly his. That was the end of him.
Resolution.
There is just a little more than two chapters remaining — I would be grateful if you would see this through to the end with me.