Chapter 18

As I closed in, I whipped both arms behind my waist.

The instant my bent spine snapped straight, the sword followed.

The blade hunted El’s pale, slender throat.

A heavy edge hurtled in.

Instead of the feel of flesh parting, the clang of metal on metal rang out.

El flicked my sword aside without effort.

“Hmm...”

Her reaction was bone-dry, as though she were measuring me.

One parry wasn’t enough to stop me.

I kept aiming for her neck, relentless, no room for a counter.

I poured on attacks brutal enough to seem savage.

I dropped low and drove deep, grip white on the hilt, slashing upward.

Again, the throat.

El set her blade where mine would pass.

Just as I expected the clash—

“So that’s the Unique Magic...”

I noticed her skin darken a shade.

Heat rippled from her; smoke curled off the steel.

In a heartbeat Red-family swordsmanship flared with explosive force.

Her sword fell like a hammer—again, again.

I angled my blade to catch the blows, but I might as well have been a nail.

Each strike hammered my legs deeper into the earth.

The next slash was already coming.

“Hup!”

A horizontal cut, right to left.

I arched backward, bow-string taut, hair brushing the ground as the edge clipped stray strands.

My face tilted skyward; sunlight blasted my eyelids, scorching even through closed eyes.

A shimmer of blade-heat hung in the air—heat haze—blurring my sight.

The same trail Belle’s sword left.

Then, predictably, it detonated with a burst of Noise.

I sprang back to open distance.

If there was one way El differed from Belle, it was this: after that technique she stood perfectly upright.

“Planning to keep your eyes shut forever?” she asked.

“You’re still the same.”

I stepped in—throat, only the throat.

“I don’t know why closing your eyes is supposed to be a trick, but your attacks are too simple...!”

I pressed on, deaf to her words.

Because I kept offering the same strike, she kept answering the same way.

After several exchanges I saw my chance and raised the sword high.

Down it came, searing hot—

At the last instant I twisted my wrist and laid the flat of the blade horizontal.

The patch of ground I now trod was the exact spot where, moments ago, the sunlight had struck my eyes.

The glare bounced off the mirror-bright steel and lanced straight into El’s face.

“Ugh...!”

Her eyes slammed shut—just like mine.

I snatched her collar, yanked her off balance, and drove her down.

The impact rattled her frame; her sword skittered away.

“Ghk!”

Before she could push up, my point hovered at her throat.

I opened my eyes slowly.

The crimson in her cheeks had nothing to do with Red-family blood.

“Mago,” the Chief Instructor called.

“Sheath your sword.”

The fight was finished.

I slid the blade home and lowered my hand.

El took my hand and stood.

“I’ll keep your loss a secret,” I teased.

“...Forget it.”

She pouted, brushing sand from her coat.

“Mago, that bastard—he actually pulled it off alone.”

Oscar, watching from the sidelines, grumbled.

“I wondered why he kept aiming for the throat. Turns out it was all part of the plan.”

Kinjo answered him.

“What d’you mean?”

“From start to finish Mago kept his sword high. He wanted the blade to catch the sunlight at exactly that angle.”

“From the start? You’re not making sense.”

“He tricked everyone into thinking he only targeted the neck. On purpose. With the sword always coming in high, your eyes had nowhere else to look. That’s when he got you.”

While they talked I picked up El’s fallen sword.

“Ms. El, you’ll need this. You’ve still got the next match...”

The moment I lifted it the blade shattered into a dozen pieces.

Standard-issue steel couldn’t survive her destructive power.

* * *

Elizabeth Red.

El, for short.

She stared blankly at the scoreboard nailed to the bulletin wall.

“Just like the Chief Instructor said...”

She looked stunned.

I remembered Belle not long ago, forehead pressed to the same board, muttering in despair.

They really are alike.

“At this rate I... I won’t make the Special Task Force, right, Mago?”

I could only nod.

“How did Belle drop all the way to forty-first...?”

“The written exam wrecked her.”

I swallowed the part about my own victory pushing her down further.

El’s gaze drifted to the top of the list.

First place.

My name sat there.

“Mago, are you... getting along with Belle?”

Only yesterday—

—What do you two think you’re doing? Where’s Louise’s...?

I could still see Belle’s icy eyes.

“Sure... we’re close.”

“Mago.”

She called my name, suddenly serious.

“Why... do you think I took the post of special instructor?”

The question had bothered me from the start.

She had no ties to the Imperial Army, none at all with the Chief Instructor.

And while El was here, Belle had left the Training Center for a while.

Not to visit family.

So...

“Is it because of Belle’s scores?”

El nodded, as if I’d passed a test.

“After her marks crashed, I got her letter and tried everything to help, but she was already gone... so...”

She paused for three silent beats.

“...I had to borrow another trainee’s hand.”

“And that’s me?”

“Mm-hmm... yes.”

I had beaten her in sparring.

I was the current top ranker.

My skill was proven.

What she wanted was simple: help Belle climb back up.

Now that I knew, it was time to pull the strings.

The initiative was already mine.

“Why should I?”

When I threw the question back, El fumbled for an answer, shuffling her feet.

“The Fourth Exam splits everyone into Odd and Even Groups based on current standings. Belle and I are both odd numbers—same group. I could help her, sure, but I’ve got no reason to.”

I pressed one step further.

A reminder that nothing comes free.

The Fourth Exam would be canceled anyway when the Demon King’s army invaded.

No one would earn more points.

“Mago, isn’t there... anything you need? You can be honest.”

A decent weapon would be nice, but I’d already arranged that.

What I wanted from El was simpler: stay here four more days.

Fight with me in the Second Invasion Defense Battle.

“Then stay one extra day at the Center.”

“Eh? That’s... tricky. I promised to leave before the Fourth Exam...”

“That’s my price. Otherwise I can’t help Belle.”

“You want me to... hide?”

“If necessary.”

“But what difference does one more day make?”

“After all the selfish tactics I’ve used, suddenly helping Belle looks suspicious. If questions arise, you’ll step in. When the ‘hidden sister’ appears, people will assume you planned the cheat, not me.”

“Crafty.”

El wrinkled her nose.

“That’s the risk you’ll have to take, Ms. El.”

She lowered her head.

And fell silent once more.

A moment later.

“...Fine. But this is a promise, Mago.”

El extended her right hand.

“Understood.”

I clasped her hand and gave a gentle squeeze.

I remembered the black ink that had dripped from her clenched fist last night.

The last thing I needed before the invasion.

People—done.

Next: weapons.

On the walk back I glanced toward the armory.

An instructor stood guard.

There was no way to haul the whole stockpile of weapons out to the proving ground—not without the instructor’s permission, and I couldn’t even give a convincing reason why I’d need them.

“Mago. What are you doing here?”

The instructor noticed me.

“Nothing, sir. I was just walking and ended up here.”

“How dull. Get back to quarters.”

“Yes, sir.”

In front of the warehouse stood a row of orc dummies.

One of them lay in tatters.

The dummy Belle had blasted apart.

“Instructor, shouldn’t that be replaced?”

“Hm? Yeah, eventually. More models are coming in anyway—we’ll need them for the next drill.”

The same had happened in my last life.

The supplier would deliver fresh dummies.

The only chance to bring in outside goods before the invasion.

“Hope Belle’s doing all right.”

* * *

“Why were only the two of us kicked out?”

Belle demanded.

“We weren’t kicked out. We’ve got our own mission.”

“Amon... do you think they hate us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. And are you even listening?”

“Then what is this, exactly?”

“Belle, this... is ace-control. We’re not hated—we’re being managed.”

“By the instructors?”

“Exactly. Four days until the Fourth Exam. They’re sidelining us so the rest can catch up. Level the field by weakening the aces.”

“Hmm...”

“So we’re the aces—”

“Then Mago should be here.”

“Huh?”

“If it’s ace-control, the top ranker—Mago—should be the one they’re worried about, right?”

“...True.”

“Use your head.”

“Getting lectured by you is surreal.”

Amon stopped in his tracks.

“Belle. Honestly, I know.”

“Know what?”

“That this is weird. Calling it a ‘mission’ when it’s just errands? Why am I buying the chief instructor’s cigarettes? Damn, the more time I have, the less sense it makes. What else are we supposed to do?”

“I’ve got something.”

“What?”

“Mago asked me for a favor. Don’t know how he knew we’d be sent outside.”

“Mago asked you?”

“Look.”

Belle pulled out a sheet of paper.

Amon studied the back.

“The edge is singed. And Belle—why show me only the blank side?”

She twisted her wrist so he could see the front.

“I hid it on purpose. You wouldn’t understand it anyway.”

She added,

“Hmm...”

Amon read the symbols on the front.

“No clue. What language is this?”

“Beats me.”

“A cipher?”

“Working theory.”

“So what do we do with it?”

Belle produced a second slip.

“Take it here. They’ll know the code.”

The second sheet was a crude map.

They headed straight for the spot—

Never suspecting it was the thieves’ hideout—

And even knocked politely.

A thief poked his surly face through the gap in the door.

“Who’s there?”

He sounded irritable.

“Hello,” Belle said with a bow.

“Ah... hello.”

Amon dipped his head behind her.

“This ain’t no place for kids.”

The thief started to shut the door—then paused.

‘A uniform?’

He’d caught the faint glint of indigo. Belle’s and Amon’s clothes drew his eyes: on the left breast, an upside-down sword embroidered into the cloth.

‘Trainees. This year’s batch...’

A bell seemed to ring in his skull.

‘They’re the pair everyone’s talking about!’

The door swung wide.

“What brings you here?”

The words came out silk-smooth, every inch the gentleman.

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