1: Dismissal of the Traitor

High in the piercing azure world—their sky—the girls were exchanging fire.

Targets modeled after giant fly-like monsters—Achernar-class Dummy Birds—streaked across their field of vision.

Spread out across the three tactical positions of Vanguard, Mid-Guard, and Rearguard, the girls of the Guardian Department moved to intercept them.

“Y-You little—! Quit darting around already…!”

Misora Whitale, a girl with long, glossy crimson hair, shouted from the Mid-Guard airspace.

Magical Cannon Sword in hand, she locked onto three Dummy Birds in her sights.

Her flight trajectory was rough and amateurish, yet she tore through the sky at breathtaking speed, raining continuous artillery fire upon the targets.

Move, move, move.

Throwing her whole body into every maneuver, she poured all of her focus into the enemies directly ahead of her.

Then she tapped the communication crystal at her ear to call her squadmates.

“Now’s our chance! Rico, can you give me some cover?!”

“As if anyone could match your erratic flying, Misora. Deal with them yourself.”

Rico Flamel—a peerless beauty who looked every inch the reincarnation of a goddess—replied from the Rearguard airspace.

She had tried once to cover Misora through her scope.

However, providing covering fire for someone who completely ignored the standard theory of aerial combat was out of the question.

For a Magic Gunner, committing friendly fire was nothing short of an utter disgrace.

Wearing a look of sheer boredom, Rico let out a small yawn.

Participating in training every once in a blue moon was exhausting.

“Hmph. This is tedious. Perhaps I shall head back soon…”

“U-Umm… My hands are a little full over here too…”

Up in the Vanguard airspace, Lecty Eisenach—a petite girl with blonde hair and blue eyes—was at her wits’ end.

As a practitioner of powerful Magic Dual-Swordsmanship, she could cut down individual targets in short order.

Yet the enemy did not always attack from straight ahead.

Trembling and flinching, she glanced frantically in every direction.

With enemy silhouettes closing in from all across the vast sky, Lecty fell into a flustered panic.

Slipping past the breached Vanguard airspace, the Achernar-class Dummy Birds began filtering into the Mid-Guard and Rearguard zones.

“Uuugh, Misora-san, Rico-san… P-Please help me!”

“L-Lecty! N-No way! There’re enemies coming my way too—”

“Don’t move, Misora! If you fly around that erratically, I can’t cover—Guh!”

“Guh! We can’t afford to pull back now! You two, we’re powering through this with sheer grit!”

“U-Umm… P-Please calm down, Misora-san!”

“Rico, cover me! I’m heading over to back up Lecty!”

“I just told you it’s impossible to cover you! Are you telling me to shoot you?!”

“Wh-Who the heck asked you to shoot me?!”

“P-Please don’t fight, Misora-san, Rico-san!”

“Shut up, Lecty!”

“Indeed, Lecty. Keep quiet.”

“U-Umm… I-I’m so sorryyyy!”

Their coordination was riddled with holes, their teamwork grating and disjointed.

Unable to bring their individual combat skills to bear, their movements as a platoon were falling apart at the seams.

Watching from high above, that much was painfully obvious.

“Well, about what I expected.”

Perched atop his jet-black surfboard-shaped Broom, a tall, slender youth—Kanata Age—muttered under his breath.

His official post was that of a Sky Wizard Instructor—an Expert. His duty was to teach and guide the members of his assigned squad, Fireteam E601—infamously known as the F-Rank Platoon.

Gazing down at his students as they ran headfirst into a new hurdle,

“Might be about time to start that new regimen…”

He let a fearless grin tug at his lips.

∆∆∆

It happened right as he was about to tackle his growing pile of paperwork.

“To begin with, after we worked that hard out there, isn’t it completely ridiculous that nobody gives us an ounce of credit?!”

Inside the platoon room after practical training had ended for the day,

Kanata was being subjected to a barrage of complaints from Misora and Rico.

Misora puffed out her lips in a pout.

“You think it’s ridiculous that we aren’t getting any recognition too, don’t you?!”

“Leaving Misora aside, I find it difficult to comprehend why a goddess such as myself has not been properly lauded.”

“Hm, really? Nobody saw you guys busting your tails out there, so it seems pretty natural to me.”

“‘N-Natural,’ you say…?! Didn’t you take down Chimera Antares—the biggest prize of all—yourself?! Doesn’t it frustrate you that nobody even knows who defeated it?!”

As Platoon Leader, Misora protested in disbelief.

The pen in Kanata’s hand came to a sudden stop.

“Does it bother you, Misora? That nobody around here believes you guys defeated Chimera Deneb on your own?”

“W-Well, of course it does… We fought with everything we had to bring that thing down…”

“Huh. So that’s how it is.”

“? Are you not dissatisfied yourself?”

“Nah, I couldn’t care less about stuff like that…”

During the recent battle, if word got out that Kanata had single-handedly saved Mistgun from its hour of crisis, the hostility directed at him would surely plummet overnight. He might even be restored to his former status as the city’s hero, just like before he was branded a traitor.

Ever since moving into Artemia Dormitory, Misora had seen firsthand how Kanata was treated like a pariah. He was left out of dormitory events, ignored whenever students passed him in the halls without so much as a greeting, and thoroughly ostracized at every turn.

And yet, look at him… Misora pressed a hand to her chest with a pang of sympathy. He genuinely didn’t seem to find that treatment painful in the slightest.

Did he simply not care what anyone thought of him? Or did he just not have the time to waste on such worldly trivialities?

Misora couldn’t tell which it was. Frankly, there was still far too much she didn’t understand about him.

Still, there was one thing she could say for certain.

He had things he needed to do first.

He had something he wanted to protect.

During that large-scale engagement, he had fought a newly discovered Chimera variant all on his own—protecting Mistgun to the very end and saving its people from disaster. That alone was proof enough.

Misora stole a quiet glance at Kanata’s face.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but… this guy had zero interest in becoming a hero.

He was an enigma of a man, yet there was an undeniable sincerity at his core.

Even if, nine times out of ten, she had no earthly idea what was going through his head…

“Hm? Need something from me?”

“N-Nothing at all…!”

Just then, having gathered her nerve, Lecty walked timidly over to Kanata’s desk. Clutched in her small hands was a wrapped packet of lemon candies.

“U-Umm… K-Kanata-san! Thank you very much for your instruction today! H-Here! P-Please take these! (Bonk!)”

She bowed with such gusto that she slammed her forehead straight into Kanata’s lectern.

“You okay there, Lecty?”

“I-I’m so sorry! I-I’m fine… It doesn’t hurt a bit! (Sniffle)”

Eyes brimming with tears from both embarrassment and pain, Lecty tried to scurry backward in a fluster. Catching her by the hand, Kanata leaned in close to inspect her reddening, swollen forehead.

“K-K-K-Kanata-san! I-I’m really okay!”

“Hmm, looks like you didn’t hurt your eye, at least. Watch yourself, alright?”

Kanata gave Lecty’s shoulder a gentle pat. Then he unwrapped the little package she had given him and popped a sweet-and-sour lemon candy into his mouth. For someone as painfully shy as Lecty to reach out and initiate conversation like this showed just how much she had come to trust him.

Speaking of the last member of the squad—Kanata shifted his gaze toward Rico. Closing the book she had been reading, she stretched her arms high overhead with a soft groan. Although Rico had once boasted about how much she despised training, lately she had started showing up on a whim.

Letting out a languid yawn, Rico covered her mouth with one hand.

“Hm? What’s up, Rico? Tired?”

“Indeed. I am short on sleep. I stayed up late into the night reading a work of philosophy, you see. Granted, thanks to our tedious morning lectures today, I managed to catch up on a fair bit of rest.”

“Wait—you don’t even listen during classroom lectures?! How on earth do you still get top marks on all the written exams?!”

“Hmph. Classroom lectures can be understood with my eyes closed. Allow me to ask you in return: why would anyone require an explanation from another person for problems of that level?”

When it came to academic intellect, the gap between Misora and Rico was as wide as heaven and earth.

“Wh-What is the classroom instructor even doing?! Normally a teacher calls you out if you’re sleeping in class!”

“Hmm. Once, in an attempt to reprimand me for not paying attention, the instructor challenged me to a debate on Rudel’s Theory of Aerial Tactics. Three minutes later, he was so thoroughly shaken by the shallow depths of his own knowledge that he fled the classroom in tears. Ever since that day, no one has said a word to me no matter what I do.”

Rico stated this with a prim, self-satisfied look.

Misora ground her teeth in frustration, looking ready to lunge across the room at any second.

“Calm down, Misora. It’s not that you’re slow—Rico’s just an outlier.”

“Hmph, naturally. As a goddess, I am an all-around genius. Come to think of it, Misora…”

“Wh-What now?!”

“I mean this in all seriousness… do not fall in love with me. And kindly refrain from stalking me as well.”

“I’m never doing that again, and I’m NOT falling in love with you! Besides, this guy was the one who told me to tail you in the first place!”

“Hm? Did I say something like that?”

“Y-You most certainly did! How dare you play dumb with a straight face?!”

On the verge of tears and consumed by indignation, Misora moved to grab Kanata by the collar. Right at that moment, two polite knocks sounded at the platoon room door, and Chloe stepped inside.

“What’s up?”

“The Guardian Leader has something she wants to discuss with you, Kanata. She asked me to bring you to her office.”

“Huh. Doesn’t sound like good news.”

Chloe’s expression was as calm and gentle as ever, yet Kanata had immediately picked up on the tension in her voice.

“W-Wait a second! What do you mean, ‘not good news’…?”

“Well, can’t be helped. …Anyway, we’ll call it a day for now. Rico, you’ve got a resubmission on your joint-liability apology letter for destroying civilian facilities. I’m gonna make you rewrite it until you can say ‘I’m sorry’ properly.”

He tossed a single sheet of paper lightly onto Rico’s desk. Just as she had been preparing to head home, her face twisted in displeasure. With a brisk stride, Kanata walked out of the platoon room.

An ominous summons. Misora’s expression suddenly fell.

In the final phase of the recent battle, Kanata had unleashed a power beyond human comprehension. She had been meaning to ask him about that power when the right moment came, yet he was clearly keeping it under wraps… doubtless for his own reasons. This sudden summons from the Guardian Leader might very well have something to do with it.

Misora pushed back her chair and stood up with a clatter.

“? Are you going somewhere?”

“To check on him. I have no idea what he’s thinking half the time, so I’m worried. I’m gonna go see what’s going on.”

“Hmm? Do you not need to do your after-school independent practice today?”

“Tailing him is my independent practice today.”

With hurried steps, Misora slipped out of the platoon room.

Nodding in sudden comprehension, Rico gave a knowing snort.

“Hmph. So it is stalking after all.”

“Y-You’re right! Could it be that stalking people is actually Misora-san’s hobby…?”

“Listen to me, Lecty. Since the two of you share a dorm room, you had best stay on your guard around Misora. As you can see, she is a pervert whose hobby is stalking girls. There is no telling when she might pounce on you. Keep your Magic Dual Swords by your pillow just in case.”

“A-Auugh, I-I understand! I-I’ll do just that!”

An easygoing voice echoed through the tense, stifling atmosphere of the room.

“Huh. So I’m getting fired.”

“That is how it stands. You never seemed to have any motivation from the start anyway, so this works out nicely, doesn’t it? Since taking your post as instructor, you have suffered two straight losses, bringing the platoon’s cumulative record to twelve consecutive defeats. You went winless through the entire First Quarter, and the content of your matches was abysmal. Squabbling amongst themselves mid-battle means those girls need to start over from Junior School.”

“Well, I can’t really argue with you there.”

“Then there’s no problem, is there?”

Inside the Guardian Office, Freon had just flatly informed Kanata of his dismissal.

Even so, not a flicker of panic showed on his face. As long as he had failed to produce tangible results, being relieved of his post was well within his expectations.

“Still, I’m gonna have to refuse. I’ve still got things I need to get done here.”

“…And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing complicated. I took on the job of being their instructor, and I swore to myself that I’d raise those three into full-fledged Sky Wizards. If I abandon my own students now, who on earth is gonna raise them?”

“You… raise that F-Rank platoon…?”

“Yeah.”

“Hah, don’t make me laugh. As if the city’s traitor could possibly raise those girls. Even if you came with Chloe’s recommendation, I never recognized you as—”

“I don’t need you to recognize me.”

Kanata cut in quietly.

“The only ones whose recognition I need are Misora, Rico, and Lecty. No matter what anyone else says about me, all I have to think about is making my students stronger. That’s what it means to be an instructor. Am I wrong?”

“…Setting aside the actual state of your instruction, your spirit at least seems admirable.”

Caught slightly off guard by his unexpected pushback, Freon hesitated for a beat before continuing,

“However, your dismissal has already been decided. All that remains is to find your replacement—or, failing that, to disband the platoon altogether.”

She reiterated her decision to relieve him of his post.

When one of the absolute authorities of Mistgun—the Guardian Leader herself—handed down a final verdict, no one should have been able to talk back… In theory, at least.

“Look, I really don’t have time to be dawdling in a place like this. I’ve got a mountain of instructor work waiting for me.”

With a casual, unbothered drawl, Kanata proceeded to negotiate anyway.

Furrowing her brow slightly, Freon replied,

“Whatever your intentions may be, Mistgun has no use for an instructor who cannot deliver results.”

“Then all I have to do is deliver results, right?”

“And how do you propose to do that…? Producing results at this stage is impossible. Don’t tell me you expect me to wait until the Second Quarter begins.”

“I won’t need anywhere near that long. You had no intention of waiting around for me anyway, right?”

“…You understand the situation remarkably well, don’t you?”

Kanata glanced around the office. Aside from Freon seated before him and Chloe, who had escorted him here, there was one other person in the room—someone glaring daggers straight at him.

Wearing an expression bordering on brazen arrogance, Kanata addressed her directly.

“Hey, Yuri. You’re about to be assigned to a new platoon as their instructor, aren’t you?”

“I am… And what of it?”

Taken aback by his pointed question, Yuri frowned in confusion.

The instant he heard her answer, a fearless smirk tugged at the corner of Kanata’s mouth.

“Then how about we hold a mock battle between the platoon you’re taking over and Fireteam E601—our squad? If we win, I stay on as instructor. If my squad can beat a platoon coached by you, that proves I’m more capable as an instructor than you are. And surely nobody’s gonna dismiss a capable instructor like that, right?”

“““…!”””

Everyone in the room except Kanata stiffened in shock.

Not a single one of them believed that the F-Rank platoon stood the slightest chance of winning.

Yet Kanata spoke with such uncanny, unshakable confidence that his momentum nearly swept them along. Branded a traitor and ostracized by the entire Academy Floating City though he was, he remained—at least on paper—a member of the Royal Guard.

Just then, a loud thud! echoed from the hallway outside as someone took a tumble, though for some reason nobody inside paid it any mind.

Eyes wide with astonishment, Chloe spoke up.

“Are you saying that in your right mind, Kanata?!”

“Of course I am. I’m not dumb enough to pick a fight I don’t have a shot at winning.”

Kanata flashed a bold, unbothered grin.

“So, what’ll it be, Yuri? Don’t tell me you’re scared of losing to me.”

“As if I would ever be scared! For that matter, why are you speaking as though my defeat is a foregone conclusion?!”

“Hm? Wait, do you seriously think you can beat me?”

“Of course I do! Who in their right mind would lose to an F-Rank platoon on a twelve-match losing streak?!”

“Huh. In that case, when I win, why don’t you join our platoon as a member?”

“…!”

Yuri’s shoulders began to tremble with barely contained fury.

“Just how far do you intend to mock me before you’re satisfied?! There is no way I would ever accept such an absurd condition—”

“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you actually think you’re gonna lose after all?”

He tossed out the blatant provocation with an easy, maddening smile.

“…Guardian Leader, please allow me to accept this match.”

Had the proposal come only from the traitor Kanata, Freon would have dismissed it out of hand—but now the ever-serious Yuri was asking for it herself. Torn for a moment, Freon glanced toward Chloe, who gave a small nod as if to add her own request. Freon let out a long sigh.

“…Very well, it can’t be helped. However, let me make one thing clear. The only requirement is a match between the platoon Yuri leads and your platoon, correct? That means the squad Yuri commands does not have to be an E-Rank platoon—you have no objection if it belongs to another rank entirely?”

“Sure. Honestly, pitting two E-Rank platoons against each other would stack the odds way too far in our favor anyway.”

“In what universe would the odds be stacked in your favor?!”

Yuri shot him a sullen glare.

“Fine. We shall let the outcome of the mock battle decide the matter of your dismissal. Since I want this settled during the adjustment period between the First and Second Quarters, how does four days from now sound for the match?”

“No problem here.”

“Then you may excuse yourself. I have no further business with you.”

Doing as he was told, Kanata gave a lazy wave over his shoulder and strolled out of the office.

∆∆∆

“What were you thinking?! Doesn’t that mean you’ll get fired if we lose…?!”

The moment he opened the door and stepped out into the corridor, he found Misora waiting there, her face pale with alarm.

“Hm? Why the super grim look?”

Trailing half a step behind Kanata, Misora hurried along after him.

“Of course I look grim! Our platoon needs your strength!”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“…Because thanks to you, we managed to take down a Chimera. I really believe we’ve started gaining the strength we need because of your training.”

Kanata stopped in his tracks and turned around, fixing his gaze squarely on Misora’s face.

“Then tell me: what do you want to do with this platoon?”

“I… I want to make this platoon stronger. I want all of us to grow stronger together and aim even higher.”

“Huh. That’s a pretty admirable speech.”

“Wh-What do you mean, ‘admirable speech’… I-I’m the Platoon Leader, aren’t I?!”

“…Yeah, that you are.”

Perhaps her answer had confirmed something he wanted to know.

Misora couldn’t tell what it was, but the corner of Kanata’s mouth curled upward into a grin.

Turning back around, he resumed walking down the hall.

Misora scrambled to catch up and walk beside him.

“Hey, Misora. Do you know what it takes for me to stay on as your instructor?”

“…………”

“The answer’s simple.”

Kanata declared with brimming confidence.

“—All you guys have to do is not lose the mock battle. Simple as that.”

“…You make ‘not losing’ sound so easy! Our record is, u-umm…”

“I know. Twelve straight losses. Zero wins, twelve defeats—a flat zero percent win rate.”

“I-If you know that much, then w-why…?!”

“Even if you’ve lost twelve times in a row, all you have to do is win the next one. Losing streaks and winning streaks don’t mean a thing. Whether you win or lose a match comes down to how hard you push yourselves when it counts. Am I wrong?”

His tone was calm, yet his words carried an unmistakable weight. Faced with his breezy, unflappable demeanor—as though the obstacle ahead were nothing at all—Misora couldn’t help feeling that with this instructor, they really might pull it off.

Swept up in his singular presence, Misora’s feet froze for a split second.

“Ah, w-wait up!”

Hurrying after him again, Misora frowned with lingering unease.

“…B-But even for you, putting your own job on the line like that is…”

Her words never reached Kanata’s ears, however.

Because right at that moment, Kanata had abruptly started muttering to himself.

Crossing his arms, he mumbled under his breath.

“Hmm… Yeah, this calls for that, doesn’t it?”

“? What do you mean, ‘this calls for that’?”

“In a spot like this, that’s definitely the way to go. Definitely that.”

“I’m asking you, what the heck is ‘that’…?”

“Right, right. If we don’t pull that off here, we won’t get anywhere at all.”

“For crying out loud, what are you talking about?!”

“Alright. It’s settled—”

Before Misora knew it, they had arrived right in front of the Fireteam E601 platoon room inside the Platoon Building. Kanata threw the door wide open.

Inside, Rico—who had just finished rewriting her apology letter—and Lecty—who was watering a small potted houseplant—both turned to look at them.

With Misora and the others watching intently, Kanata made his announcement.

“—Starting tomorrow, we’re kicking off a brand-new special training regimen. Every last one of you better show up ready to give it everything you’ve got. That’s all for today—dismissed!”

A sudden declaration of special training.

Misora’s face twisted with a horrified “Geh!”, Rico gave a dismissive snort, and Lecty clasped her hands to her chest with a flustered “Auugh!”

＊＊＊

“…It seems our other guest has left as well.”

Freon had been fully aware of the presence eavesdropping outside the door.

Compared to what she was about to discuss next, however, the matter of Kanata’s dismissal was of little consequence—which was why she hadn’t bothered clearing the corridor.

“As I am sure you have already guessed, I did not summon the two of you from the Special Fireteam just to discuss that trivial matter. In fact, our real business begins now.”

Resting her elbows on her desk, Freon laced her fingers together, her gaze sharpening.

The air in the office seemed to drop several degrees at once. Her sudden, unmistakable gravity made it clear that Kanata’s dismissal had indeed been little more than a pretext.

“The carcass of Chimera Antares, which was subjugated by an unknown party the other day, was recovered and analyzed by the Medicine Department—and they uncovered something fascinating. It is a major discovery concerning regenerative medicine. As the most battle-hardened Sky Wizards in Mistgun, I want to hear your thoughts on the matter. We are heading down to the underground research laboratory right now. Follow me.”

Doing as they were told, Chloe and Yuri accompanied Freon toward the underground research facility. The very fact that it was located beneath the city made it easy to surmise that whatever lay inside was meant to be kept strictly out of the public eye.

With tense steps, the two members of the Royal Guard followed closely behind Freon.

The air temperature inside was carefully regulated by climate control.

Whatever damp, gloomy impression the words “underground facility” might conjure, this laboratory was far removed from it. The instant they stepped inside, however, a pungent, stomach-turning stench assaulted their nostrils.

“Right this way.”

Holding up her security pass, Freon led Chloe and Yuri through the door. Beyond it lay the Fifth Research Laboratory, a division dedicated exclusively to highly classified research.

“I imagine you have at least heard rumors of this place, though this is your first time visiting in person. This is where research on the Armored Insects is conducted.”

“Research on the Armored Insects… You mean anatomical dissection, don’t you?” Chloe spoke up.

“More or less, yes. You have seen dissection records of original-type insects during your Hostile Biology classes, haven’t you?”

“They drilled those into our heads ad nauseam back in the Preparatory Course…”

Having no stomach for grotesque sights, Yuri replied weakly.

The laboratory was surprisingly spacious within, cluttered with countless cables, monitor banks, and large pieces of equipment of indeterminate purpose. Five or six researchers could be seen bustling about, wholly absorbed in their experiments.

To ordinary students, this facility was top secret—a hidden sector known only to a handful of Mistgun’s upper echelon. The sight of the experiments being carried out inside called to mind a dark ritual of black magic.

Even amidst such eerie surroundings, one object drew the eye above all else: a large cultivation pod standing at the very center of the room like a sacrificial altar.

Suspended inside its pale-blue nutrient fluid was a bizarrely shaped mass of flesh.

It looked as though it were writhing desperately to assume some coherent form—an amorphous, caterpillar-like lump squirming to become something inhuman.

Spotting Freon and her companions, a man who appeared to be the chief researcher hurried over to greet them. While Freon turned her attention to conferring with him, a single researcher was assigned to show Chloe and Yuri around the facility.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. Allow me to guide you through our facility. My name is Real.”

Introducing himself as Real Nua, a second-year student in the Medicine Department’s Regular Course, the young man had unremarkable, average features. Though he wore a white lab coat befitting a researcher, even through the fabric his narrow shoulders and thin frame stood out noticeably.

As Real greeted Chloe, his gaze flicked repeatedly toward Yuri—his eyes gleaming with a sharp, almost feverish excitement.

Noticing his stare, Yuri spoke up.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, nothing at all. I am simply honored to meet the renowned Flostre-san of the Royal Guard.”

Real offered a smile that looked as though it had been pasted onto his face. The feverish glint in his eyes had vanished as if it had never been there.

“You flatter me. I am really no one so grand.”

Yuri returned a polite, sociable smile of her own.

After briefing them on the laboratory’s equipment, research objectives, and guiding principles, Real led them in front of the central cultivation pod, which stood as though surveying the entire room.

“What is this?”

Prompted by Chloe’s question, Real began to explain.

“This is a piece of flesh recovered from the Chimera that an unknown party subjugated the other day. Hoping that its rapid-regeneration properties might be applied to regenerative medicine, we retrieved and cultured it here for study. No matter how many times we carve away tissue samples, so long as it does not suffer a lethal blow, it regenerates at high speed—meaning we never run short of experimental specimens.”

That explained it. The foul stench permeating the laboratory was clearly coming from this lump of flesh.

According to Real’s explanation, once the tissue grew to a certain size, it would begin taking on the physical form of an Armored Insect; at that stage, the researchers would remove it from the cultivation pod and hollow out its internal organs to harvest specimen samples.

Real rattled off these details without batting an eye, yet one misstep could easily turn this work into an outright desecration of life. Even leaving aside the debate over whether scientific progress required ethics, the sheer nonchalance with which these people conducted such diabolical research proved that every last researcher in this room had lost their mind.

At the very least, that was how Chloe felt.

“Are you alright, Yuri? You aren’t feeling unwell, are you?”

“Yes, I’m fine…”

Though Yuri had the fortitude to maintain her composure on the surface, the color had drained from her face some time ago, and her voice lacked its usual strength.

“Say, maybe it’s because coming underground made me nervous, but my throat has gotten awfully dry. Yuri, would you mind heading back up ahead of me and buying us something to drink?”

“I don’t mind, of course, but what about our inspection report…?”

“We can handle that later. I’ll explain things to the Guardian Leader myself. Please take care of those drinks on the double, okay?”

Giving Yuri a gentle nudge on the back, Chloe prepared to take her own leave of the laboratory right behind her.

Stepping into Freon’s ongoing technical discussion with the chief researcher, Chloe obtained permission for them to return topside first and promised to submit their written report later.

Just as they were turning to leave, however, Real—who had confined himself strictly to academic explanations until now—abruptly spoke up.

“Come to think of it, Flostre-san, I hear you are only interested in people who are stronger than yourself.”

After a brief pause to register what he was referring to, Chloe answered on Yuri’s behalf.

“Umm… Are you talking about that recent interview in Monthly Guardian? If so, then yes, it seems that way. Apparently Yuri is only interested in people stronger than she is.”

In all likelihood, Yuri had simply grown tired of the reporter’s pestering and tossed out a brush-off answer. After all, there were precious few people in the world stronger than a member of the Royal Guard.

Yet Real nodded as though he had just confirmed a vital truth.

“Is that so? Then just as I thought, Flostre-san prefers someone stronger than herself…”

Paying no heed to Real’s quiet muttering, Chloe wasted no time leaving the eerie underground laboratory behind.