455 – Results of the Special Lesson -2-

A day during the special lesson.

-Dark magic is not a great weapon.

As always, Rohan was focusing on the lesson, gazing at Ricardo.

-Like any other field, if you have talent, you can achieve greatness. But if you lack talent, no matter how hard you try, you cannot grow.

It was clear that if he was caught not concentrating, he would not return to his dorm in his right mind.

-Mr. Rohan.

-Yes.

-What do you think is the strength of dark magic, Mr. Rohan?

-…Unexpected abilities?

-Correct.

It was the first time Ricardo had praised him, so the content was particularly memorable.

-The strength of dark magic is unexpected abilities.

-…

-Not only can you create powerful forces relative to the effort, but you can also exert abilities such as reading people’s minds or controlling their bodies.

-…

-I have a lot of combat experience with dark mages. I’ve been close to death because of them, and, though it’s a cruel thing to say, I’ve even killed them.

-…

-Dark magic that can steal an opponent’s magic, the ability to control an opponent’s body by leaving a small wound.

-…

-Even after suffering wounds, some could resurrect if their flesh and blood remained undestroyed… monsters like that.

-…

-Putting it like this, I daresay I’ve encountered a more diverse range of black mages than any of you.

-…

-You’re probably thinking something like this right now, aren’t you?

-…

-How are we supposed to beat someone with powers like that? You might think that if they have such strong abilities, they should just skip studying and learn black magic instead.

-…

Ricardo spoke.

-Didn’t I mention? Black magic is an ability that relies heavily on talent.

-…

-There’s a fatal flaw inherent in black magic.

-…

-The methods for recovering ‘dark mana’, what one might consider ‘mana’ for mages, are all different.

-…

-Even the abilities that manifest differ based on the awakening of one’s black magic.

-…

-What good is high output if there’s no way to recover? It’s no better than a useless weapon.

-…

-However, a black mage who fulfills both of those criteria is precisely the kind of foe we must face.

-Then…

-Allow me to tell you.

The way to stand against a black mage.

“A mere insect dares to presume to dine alongside a human.”

The spirit to withstand dark magic.

“Come!”

And only the method to evade its touch.

Holding his sword upright, Rohan glared at Pascal, bellowing.

‘Absolutely cannot let that guy’s sword touch me.’

Barely had the words left his lips when Pascal’s blade, brimming with fierce wrath, grazed Rohan’s forearm.

“…!!”

Rohan grimaced at the unavoidable blow.

He’d tried his best to avoid it, but barely escaping with his life, he nearly lost his will to fight.

“How dare… you address me by the name of a lowly insect.”

Giving up just because he was hit wasn’t an option.

“Take a good look at your face and seriously consider whether that statement can’t be made.”

If he gave up just because of a graze, all the effort he’d put in over the past while would be for naught.

“You little whelp…”

“The average lifespan of a mantis is eight months. Haven’t you considered that it’s more impressive that you’ve lived this long?”

“…Ha.”

Pascal, ablaze with murderous intent, licked Rohan’s blood from the dagger.

“You won’t die prettily.”

It comes.

The oppressive force of dark magic on his body.

He could feel an ominous energy consuming him, as if the joints in his fingers were stiffening, one by one.

“I’d like to ask you about… that person, you insolent wretch, but…”

He had to overcome it.

“The sins you’ve spoken with your mouth are too great, so I’ll refrain from asking.”

He had to stop that monster from reaching the students, no matter what.

Pascal, a smile plastered on his face, approached slowly, casting a dark shadow over Rohan.

-Thud.

-Thud.

-Thud.

Along with him, the underclassmen who had fallen victim to Pascal also approached, weapons in hand, heading toward him.

He was furious.

He was consumed by a rage that made him want to shatter his teeth, a fury born of his own helplessness.

Of course.

“I can’t just stand here and take it.”

“…What are you saying!”

“Just what I said. You can’t just stand there, can you? You’ve got a sword in your hand, so you should kill your beloved underclassmen.”

Pascal urged him to move, as if he wouldn’t even allow a pure death.

The hand holding the sword moved.

“You b*stard…”

He was fighting with all his might to resist, but the hand holding the sword lost its will and moved, driven by the desire to kill.

“Kyahahaha!!!”

“…”

“Praying mantis? Insect? You sure spoke eloquently, but how great are you to kill someone precious…? Isn’t that right?”

“…”

“Kill! Kill! Your friend! The person you hold dear! Kill!”

Rohan’s sword moved, little by little.

“Senior…!!”

“I’m scared…!”

“Don’t come closer!!!”

Towards his beloved underclassmen.

Towards the reason he desperately strived to always show his best side, the sword moved, imbued with another’s will.

“Kyahahaha!! This is it! This is the art I’ve craved!”

As a madness-filled smile bloomed on Pascal’s face, Rohan, wearing a cold expression, sighed softly and closed his eyes.

-Thwish.

Pascal’s eyes widened, as a blade passed him by.

“What…?”

Cut.

The artistry, reflected right back at him, inches from his face.

This precious visage.

A tiny scratch bloomed.

Pascal, stricken, his pupils trembling, reached up, fingers tracing the wound. A wordless denial escaped him, every inch of his being rebelling against this impossible reality.

Never.

“Finally, you’re worth looking at.”

Well, once. The ability had failed exactly once. Against that b*stard.

“Isn’t that right, Mantis?”

Why…?

Why…!?

Why, of all people?

“My name is Rohan.”

That thug is fine?

“A berserker who abandoned the knight’s code.”

Rohan offered a small, hard smile.

Ricardo had asked, once:

-What is your dream, Mr. Rohan?

-To be the captain of the knights.

-You haven’t got a chance.

He had told him, that his noble fighting style was not suited for my talent.

-It has to be.

-…I don’t want to.

-With how well things are going with your cheating girlfriend…

-…

And so.

“Come…!”

Rohan had discarded the knight’s code, embracing a berserker’s philosophy: attack as the best defense.

Crimson heat shimmered, escaping Rohan’s body in wisps like thread. The oppressive aura surrounding Rohan, threatening to burst, forced Pascal to take a step back, gritting his teeth.

His pride burned, seared by the failure of his power – the power that had ended so many lives.

“Insolent fool…”

“Do not treat me as you would an insect.”

“…”

“The name ‘Fly’ suits you far better.”

Rohan, a relentless grip on his blade, surged forward, defying Pascal’s dark magic, his feet shattering the ground as he advanced.

“One after another…”

“Do not dodge the fly swatter, Mantis.”

“You see me as a scarecrow.”

Pascal moved with a blinding speed.

He evaded Rohan’s onrushing sword with ease. He moved with far greater speed than in his battle with Ricardo, he aimed to pierce Rohan’s abdomen.

If black magic proves useless, then I’ll simply kill him myself. Gut him, draw out his insides, a death so agonizing it becomes art.

I loathed to stain my hands with blood, wished to avoid killing directly, but this too is a form of art, no?

“KYYYaaahhh!!!”

I moved to silence the clown, burning with battle spirit as he roared.

“Receive the hammer of justice!!!”

“Silence.”

“Mantis…!”

The instant Pascal’s keen blade sought to pierce Rohan’s abdomen.

“Enough.”

A pale voice, and a hand rested upon Pascal’s shoulder.

“You linger too long. Grand Archpriest of Madness.”

“…You dare impede my art?”

“Don’t let madness consume you, lest you forget our objective.”

Rohan’s eyes trembled as he stared at the dagger, halted mere inches away.

“…Huu…”

A hair’s breadth.

A blade that would have surely impaled him, had they been a moment slower. He had managed to overcome the black magic, but Rohan, outmatched by Pascal’s skill, suppressed his trembling breath and chided his own fear.

‘Move… Move…!’

But Rohan’s body refused to obey. The tip of Pascal’s sword remained fixed, aimed at his gut.

The man who had intervened spoke with a calm voice.

“Leave this place to the acolytes. We must relocate.”

Pascal, voice thick with fury, answered the man, radiating animosity.

“…Why do you stop me?”

“The Master of the Magic Tower may arrive. We must achieve our objective before then.”

“Are Archpriests now issuing orders to one another? What twisted system allows such a situation?”

“You’re held back by a mere student, yet you dare to question me?”

While the venomous words were exchanged, beyond Rohan, he saw black shadows gathering in droves.

Dozens.

No, hundreds.

Countless figures swarming forward, and Rohan’s eyes began to quiver.

The man said,

“If you die now, how do you intend to command these people?”

“Do you truly believe I would fall to such a thing?”

“One must always prepare for contingencies. If you refuse to comply, this entire operation will be aborted.”

“Haa…”

“We move.”

He would unleash this army upon the very place where the opening ceremony was taking place.

Trembling, listening to every word, Rohan heard Pascal’s chilling voice whisper in his ear.

“Stay alive.”

“Not until I kill them.”

Rohan, on the verge of collapsing from a terror that threatened to swallow him whole, clenched his fists, watching their retreating backs.

He had to stop them.

“Huu…”

Even a single step of their entry.

– Shhh.

The man turned back, speaking towards Rohan.

“Stay put.”

“…”

“You have your duty to fulfill.”

*

Inside the Academy’s Great Hall.

“Everyone, prepare for battle.”

Thanks to Rohan buying them time, they, having finished their combat preparations, awaited the Grand Prelate to buy time for the students to evacuate.

Mikhail.

“The Holy Sword is forbidden… until Ricardo permits it…”

Yuria.

“I’ll take the vanguard.”

And.

“Long time no see, isn’t it?”

Histania Hannah was waiting for the Grand Prelate.

Pascal, seeing Hannah, greeted her with a hook smile playing on his lips.

“Kha ha ha!!! You’re that…!!”

Hannah answered with a smile.

“Shut your trap, Praying Mantis.”

“…”

“You’re repulsive to look at.”