4: The Infinite Potential Born from Zero

“Hm? What’re you doing up here?”

“Allow me to return those exact words to you: what are you doing up here?”

The school rooftop on a balmy, sun-dappled morning. It was just past ten o’clock—an hour when students were supposed to be right in the middle of morning classroom lectures—yet for some reason, second-year Regular Course student Kanata and second-year Preparatory Course student Rico were both up on the roof.

It was the third day since Kanata had kicked off E601’s special training.

Tomorrow was the day of the mock battle; today was the final day of special training.

For two people blatantly skipping class, both of them looked remarkably unashamed…

“Hmm, just wasn’t in the mood to sit through class today.”

“My reason is the same. I am under no obligation to humor such tedious lectures.”

As Kanata lounged near the rooftop water tank for a mid-morning nap, Rico stepped right into the warm sunlight streaming down on him. Carrying a picnic sheet patterned with cute Wyverns—winged dragons—she spread it out right beside Kanata.

“Huh. That’s an awfully cute pattern you’ve got there.”

“Hmph… I-I only use this sheet because the creature’s anatomy is of academic interest!”

Stretching out on the picnic sheet, Rico made herself comfortable. Yesterday, she had decided right after arriving at school that sitting through lectures was too much trouble, so she had made up an excuse to spend the morning sleeping in the infirmary. Since using the infirmary two days in a row would invite suspicion, she had come up to the roof today instead.

Warm sunlight spilled down between the parting clouds.

“Hmph, how dazzling. Even so, as a goddess, I shine far more brightly than the sun itself.”

“…I still don’t know how you manage to rattle off embarrassing lines like that with a straight face.”

“It might be embarrassing on the lips of an ordinary mortal, but as a goddess, I am a transcendent being. There is nothing remotely embarrassing about the truth.”

Whereas Rico looked nthoroughly refreshed as she played hooky, Kanata seemed somewhat subdued. And with good reason: the real reason he was skipping class up on the roof was that his class, second-year Regular Course Class C, was undergoing physical examinations this morning. Because the checkup included a magic capacity measurement, Kanata—who had lost almost all of his Magic Power—couldn’t afford to be there.

It was a secret he had to keep from everyone around him. No one could be allowed to find out—

Neither that he had lost the vast majority of his Magic Power, nor that his body now harbored Curse Power, the ruinous energy of humanity’s natural enemy, the Armored Insects—nor that while pouring his energy into training the next generation as an instructor, he was quietly investigating the true nature and potential uses of that power.

In fact, the very reason he had skipped the championship ranking match and willingly let himself be branded a traitor was that he had come to harbor the power of humanity’s mortal enemy inside his own body.

There was an old saying that power too great for its vessel would inevitably destroy its wielder.

Only natural, Kanata thought to himself. Power beyond one’s control was nothing more than blind violence. No matter how overwhelming a power might be, if its wielder couldn’t master it, it was worse than useless.

And that held true for his own body as well.

During the recent battle against the Armored Insects, when he had unleashed Collapse Power, the energy had been so overwhelming that it tore his body to shreds from the inside out and knocked him unconscious—even if the regenerative properties of Curse Power had healed those wounds completely within a matter of days afterward.

His body was in an uncharted, unpredictable state.

Anything could happen to him at any moment.

Precisely because of that, he had begun finding genuine fulfillment in raising the next generation.

Because even if his own body were to shatter tomorrow, he could leave behind guardians capable of protecting the Floating City.

And the girl lying right beside him—Rico—was one of the students he had judged worthy of inheriting his will.

“What is the matter? Don’t tell me you have fallen in love with me after all?”

Propping himself up on one elbow, Kanata had been gazing intently at Rico’s face.

Rico had almost certainly grasped the full intent behind his special training—yet Misora still hadn’t figured it out.

Among his three students, Rico possessed by far the sharpest mind. Leaving her personality aside, she was a walking bundle of intellect.

“Nah. I’ve actually got a favor to ask you.”

“If this is a confession of love, I refuse. Only someone who stands on the same exalted plane as a goddess—namely, myself—is worthy of winning my heart.”

“As if I’d confess to a kid like you.”

“…Hmph. I-Is that so… (Droop)”

“Hm? Why do you look kinda disappointed all of a sudden?”

“…I-It’s nothing! More importantly, what is this favor of yours? Out with it already!”

“It’s about Misora. I was hoping you could give her a little advice.”

“And why should a goddess such as myself go out of her way to advise Misora?”

“Come on, you’ve already figured out the whole point of my special training, haven’t you?”

“Naturally. Who do you think I am? I am Rico Flamel.”

Sitting halfway up as well, Rico swept her long back hair over her shoulder with the regal grace of a young noblewoman.

“Then you also get why I’m asking you to be the one to advise her, right?”

“Hmph. Even if I were to offer her advice, Misora is far too dim-witted to comprehend it. It would be a waste of breath.”

“Huh. Too dim-witted to get it, huh? Well, she’s definitely not as bright as you are, so maybe you’ve got a point.”

After casually poking fun at his own student, Kanata let a fearless grin tug at his lips.

“Still, she’s racking her brains as hard as she knows how—trying to figure out what I’m asking of her, and how our platoon can grow stronger. …Come on, Rico, if you’re really a goddess, lend a little helping hand to the mortals around you. You understand what this training is all about, don’t you?”

“I understand your intent, yes, though that does not mean I have acknowledged you. In the end, we have suffered twelve consecutive defeats, and your previous special training failed to translate into a victory.”

Harsh as her words were, she was stating the cold, hard truth. Although Misora and Lecty had improved their individual combat skills dramatically through Kanata’s earlier training, they had still lost their ranking match.

Confronted with that undeniable fact, Kanata’s expression didn’t waver an inch.

“Huh. So what about you, then—do you want to win tomorrow, or do you not care?”

“…I despise losing. Rather than taste the bitterness of defeat over and over again, I would sooner walk away from this platoon altogether. In fact, if we should lose tomorrow’s mock battle, I shall take my leave of this squad for good.”

As though issuing an ultimatum, she delivered her harshest threat yet.

Yet the corner of Kanata’s mouth relaxed into a quiet smile.

Heh. Listen to yourself, Rico—talking like that is just the flip side of believing deep down that this platoon can actually pull it off.

“Why are you smiling so happily? Did I say something amusing?”

“Who knows?”

Feeling as though she were being teased, Rico shot him a sharp glare.

Kanata met her eyes squarely.

“…Listen, Rico. Because you’re smart, the ideal platoon I’m picturing probably looks like a pipe dream to you. Thing is, every ideal human beings hold onto starts out as a pipe dream. And the fools you look down on are the ones who struggle and bleed with everything they’ve got to turn that pipe dream into reality. I know you hate working up a sweat, but don’t you think there’s something genuinely beautiful about someone throwing everything they have into a challenge?”

“…………”

“Just a quick word is plenty. During lunch break every day, Misora’s been doing independent practice over at the firing range. Drop by and say something to her, will you? I guarantee she’ll be thrilled.”

Looking at her instructor’s irrepressibly excited grin, Rico concluded that he was without question the strangest creature she had encountered since the day she was born.

The firing range in the corner of the training grounds. Lunch break.

“Good grief. Working up a sweat with independent practice is the last thing I care for.”

Lately, as soon as Misora finished eating lunch, she hurried off somewhere on her own, only reappearing in the platoon room right before the end of the break. Rico had noticed that much.

What she hadn’t known, however, was that Misora was spending every lunch break practicing at the firing range.

So there really was always someone a step ahead.

For all his breezy, elusive demeanor, their instructor didn’t miss a trick—and Rico had to give him credit where credit was due. Whatever she thought of ordinary mortals, she felt a certain kinship—a sympathy—with someone like Kanata who refused to be bound by common sense.

Be that as it may—

“…What atrocious marksmanship.”

Not only was Misora missing the moving targets running along the ground rails, she was barely even hitting the stationary targets mounted against the jagged rock face. Inside the firing booth, sweat dripped down Misora’s forehead as she leveled her Magic Cannon Sword with a piercing glare.

Anyone could see at a glance how desperately she was pouring herself into her practice.

Before she knew it, Rico had walked right up behind the booth—yet Misora was so completely absorbed in aiming that she didn’t even notice Rico standing a step behind her.

“…Misora.”

“Eh?! R-Rico… What on earth are you doing out here?!”

“Who knows? Just do as I say for a moment.”

Taken aback by Rico’s uncharacteristically earnest tone, Misora blinked in surprise. Sensing that the atmosphere around her squadmate was different from usual, however, she decided to follow Rico’s lead without arguing.

Rico rattled off rapid-fire instructions.

“Tuck your chin in further when you fire, and stop cluttering your head with complicated thoughts. Your elbows are flaring out—tighten your armpits firmly. Good. Next, your aim: you are off twelve degrees to the right and thirteen degrees high. You will never hit the mark like that. …Too far. Bring the muzzle back up three degrees. Hmm. Finally, hold your breath and squeeze the trigger.”

Doing exactly as instructed, Misora squeezed the trigger. A light thump! jolted her palms.

Streaking straight across the 300-meter range as if drawn by a magnet, the magic blast slammed dead-center into the stationary target, blowing the round wooden bull’s-eye to splinters.

“…I-I hit it!”

“Naturally. It was I who advised you, after all.”

Staring out at the shattered remnants of the target, Misora wore a look of utter disbelief.

Rico, meanwhile, studied Misora closely beneath her haughty expression.

No matter how precise Rico’s verbal corrections had been, a shot at that distance couldn’t be landed so easily on advice alone.

If a god of marksmanship existed, their blessing descended only upon those who piled effort upon tireless effort.

Thousands—tens of thousands—of repeated shots. Riding the highs and lows of every hit and miss while endlessly polishing one’s craft—only upon someone who devoted themselves day in and day out to that monotonous grind would the goddess of sniping descend.

Even that bull’s-eye just now wasn’t merely the result of Rico’s pointers.

It was the fruit of Misora’s own daily, unseen hard work. She was unmistakably growing stronger.

Though Rico herself professed to have no use for effort, she had recognized that truth in a single glance.

“Listen, Misora. Regarding our platoon’s special training.”

“What about it?”

“If you want a piece of advice, I do not mind giving you one.”

Surprised by the rare offer, Misora lowered her firing stance and turned to face Rico squarely.

“…I don’t want it. Both you and Lecty figured out the answer on your own, so it wouldn’t be fair if I were the only one who got handed a hint.”

“Hmph. Is that so?”

Without another word, Misora braced her Magic Cannon Sword at her hip once more and threw herself back into her target practice.

“Then what I am about to say next is merely a monologue to myself.”

Watching Misora’s stubborn back, Rico offered a piece of genuine advice from the bottom of her heart for the very first time.

Had Misora whined and begged for a hint right away like a spineless weakling, Rico would have brushed her off coldly and walked away. Yet Misora wasn’t that soft or pathetic.

“Try looking around you a little more closely. Up in the vast sky, what do you see around you?”

“Eh?!”

“That concludes my monologue.”

Having said her piece, Rico turned on her heel and strolled unhurriedly away from the range.

Left blinking in stunned silence at Rico’s unexpected visit, Misora stared open-mouthed after her retreating figure.

∆∆∆

Altitude 4,000 meters above Mistgun. The Third Training Airspace. Day Three of special training.

Today’s rotation placed Misora in the Vanguard, Rico in the Mid-Guard, and Lecty in the Rearguard, with Kanata flying alongside Misora.

The exercise began.

Watching Misora unleash every ounce of firepower she had against the Achernar-class Dummy Birds fanning out across the Vanguard airspace, Kanata called out to her.

“Heard you’ve been putting in extra work during lunch break lately. Rico told me you’ve been grinding away at the firing range to polish your aim.”

“…I thought it was super weird for Rico to show up out of nowhere like that! Don’t tell me you put her up to it?!”

“Who knows? More importantly, what kind of advice did Rico give you?”

“…She told me to look around me more closely.”

Not bad advice at all, Kanata thought, genuinely impressed. Because Misora had a habit of getting tunnel vision in the heat of the moment, she tended to lose sight of everything around her.

“Ugh, seriously, quit swarming all over the place already…!”

Fixated entirely on what she believed to be a Vanguard’s duty—whittling down the enemy’s numbers by herself—Misora racked her brains even as she loosed volley after volley at the Dummy Birds darting before her eyes.

Even if she tells me to look around me more closely…

“Around… me…”

That’s right. Around you.

“Wait… do you mean you?”

Sigh… How can one girl be this thickheaded?

“Wh-What’s with that look?! I just got the distinct feeling my rating in your head plummeted through the floor…!”

“Rest assured, it wasn’t your imagination. Still, you’ve got something way more important to focus on right now.”

Speaking in a calm, measured tone, Kanata gave her a nudge.

“Try relaxing your shoulders a little more.”

Misora, however, already had her Magic Cannon Sword braced at her hip in firing position.

Whether his words had even registered was hard to tell.

Determined to stem the tide of oncoming targets, she kept squeezing the trigger.

The Vanguard zone was vast—far too wide an airspace for a single person to lock down alone.

Throwing her trademark acceleration into overdrive,

Misora darted back and forth to intercept the Achernar-class Dummy Birds surging forward like a raging flood.

Taking on every single target by herself, she flew as hard as her stamina allowed and fired until her magic reserves screamed.

Yet as a dam meant to hold back a torrent, Misora alone was simply too small.

Sure enough, several Achernar-class Dummy Birds slipped right past her flank.

I can still catch them! Whirling around in a panic to chase after the leakers, Misora froze.

“Rico-san, are you ready?”

“Indeed. I shall leave the targets that slipped past on the lower left to you, Lecty. I will dispose of the ones breaking through on the upper right.”

Eh…?!

Even though both of them were supposed to be playing unfamiliar positions, they were dividing up the workload without a hitch. From the Mid-Guard, Rico sniped the distant targets while deliberately ignoring—glossing right over—the close-range ones, letting them pass uncontested straight into the waiting blades of Lecty in the Rearguard.

Reflected in the dumbfounded Misora’s eyes were her two squadmates, both of whom even had the composure to smile.

Snapping her gaze back to the front, Misora loosed another blast at the Dummy Birds closing in dead ahead.

Even as she fired, her mind raced.

Both of them are in unfamiliar positions too… yet they were coordinating seamlessly just now.

What did it take to coordinate like that?

To coordinate with someone, you had to understand how they were going to move.

And what determined how someone moved? Individual personality and habits played a part, of course, but there was a rule far simpler and clearer than that:

The nature of each position itself. Every tactical position had a movement pattern suited to its role.

If Lecty were playing Vanguard right now… Misora pictured it in her head. Whenever Lecty played Vanguard, she kept her movements far more compact—and cut down the enemy far more efficiently.

If Lecty were here in the Vanguard, she would use tight, economical turns to herd the targets and take them down in clusters.

Holding that image in her mind, Misora squeezed the trigger—blowing away a cluster of three targets at once. That very instant, a strange sensation washed over her.

Wait… Did the sky just get wider all of a sudden…?

She could see it.

She could see Rico calmly reading the flow of battle to place her shots, and Lecty flashing in with her Magic Dual Swords.

She could see it.

Four more Dummy Birds entering the Vanguard airspace ahead, followed by another dozen advancing in a pack behind them.

She could see it.

Right beside her, Kanata was watching her with the corner of his mouth curled upward in a grin.

…Could it be that I was so caught up in thinking I had to do everything myself that I went completely blind to everyone else?

The sky hadn’t grown wider—her field of vision had.

Even in an unfamiliar position, I have squadmates behind me. Was what I really needed all along just to rely on my squadmates and trust them?!

What had bound Misora hand and foot until now was a curse named “unfamiliarity.”

And what had shattered that curse was Misora’s own tireless effort—

Together with the presence of squadmates who had her back when it counted.

In this situation, what she needed to do as the Vanguard was—deflect and funnel the enemy’s momentum backward while whittling down as many targets as she could along the way.

“Rico, Lecty! Can I leave the four targets about to slip past my flank to you two?!”

“I don’t mind at all, Misora-san, but are you feeling alright?! Did you come down with a fever…?”

“No, nothing like that!”

“Hmph. It seems you have finally realized something. Then get on with it already so we can wrap up this tedious training.”

In a formation like this, Mid-Guard Rico and Rearguard Lecty were guaranteed to pick off whatever she funneled back to them.

It’s okay. Against a wave of this size… See? Just like I thought.

As though locking onto the final piece of the puzzle, Misora braced her Magic Cannon Sword at her hip and poured all of her focus into converging her Magic Power, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead on the main enemy pack’s approach vector.

Heh. Looks like you’ve found your answer already, Misora.

Kanata smiled.

By experiencing each other’s positions firsthand, their mutual understanding of every role in the squad had leaped forward dramatically. Better still, it had broadened their tactical range, expanded their field of vision in the middle of combat, and raised the overall strength of the platoon as a whole—

Just as Vanguard Misora was demonstrating right now by reading the situation on the fly and entrusting her back to Rico and Lecty…

Magic Cannon Sword Combat Technique — Strike Blaster.

A deafening roar. Recoil fierce enough to feel as if it might tear her arms from their sockets. From the muzzle at the tip of her Magic Cannon Sword erupted a vortex of silver-white light, annihilating every last Achernar-class Dummy Bird deployed ahead of her in a single sweep.

For a brief moment, both Rico and Lecty fell silent, staring toward Misora.

Misora’s shoulders heaved as she panted for breath.

Perhaps because her own mind hadn’t quite caught up with what she had just accomplished, she remained frozen in her firing stance.

A warm voice called out to her.

“Well done, Misora. You pass too.”

Wearing a satisfied smile, Kanata rested a gentle hand on Misora’s shoulder.

The post-training review meeting. The platoon room.

Kanata had stepped out to the equipment room to borrow a projector so he could brief them on tomorrow’s mock battle strategy. Left to hold a review meeting among themselves while they waited, Misora and the other two girls sat facing each other across the desks in the platoon room.

“Come to think of it, you two have gotten awfully close over the last couple of days, haven’t you, Rico, Lecty?”

Looking at the pair sitting side by side across from her, Misora voiced the observation aloud.

“Yes! U-Umm… I can’t quite explain it, but lately I’ve started being able to tell what Rico-san is thinking during battle.”

“Oh! I noticed that today too! Even if it’s only a little bit, I feel like I understand how both of you move way better now…”

Why is that, I wonder? Both Misora and Lecty tilted their heads.

With her arms folded across her chest, Rico spoke up with a composed air.

“Hmm. That is because the effect of that special training was not limited merely to understanding the mechanics of each position.”

“? What do you mean by that…?”

“Understanding the role of another position inevitably means coming to understand the Sky Wizard who plays that position. Even within the exact same role, how a person moves varies greatly depending on their habits and personality. Consequently, grasping each other’s positions led directly to understanding each other as individuals.”

“Eh?! Wait, doesn’t that mean…”

“It means that beyond mutual understanding of our positions, it has laid a solid foundation for our squad tactics and deepened our teamwork as a whole.”

Hearing Rico’s explanation, Misora and Lecty exchanged a wide-eyed look.

“R-Rico! You saw all the way through to that…?!”

“D-Did Kanata-san really plan all of that from the very beginning?!”

“Who knows? I cannot say how far ahead he calculated. However, knowing that man—”

Right then, the door swung open, and Kanata strolled in carrying a projector under his arm.

“Alrighty. Looks like you guys wrapped up your review meeting, so let’s get started on our strategy briefing… Hm? What’s with the stare, Rico?”

“…No, it is nothing.”

How had Kanata known from outside in the hallway that their review discussion had just finished?

Though the question crossed Rico’s mind, she decided not to press him on it—

Because she knew he would only play dumb and brush it off anyway.

“Uuugh, even watching them on video, their movements are incredible…”

Inside the cozy platoon room, the projector cast combat footage onto the whiteboard screen. Misora and the others watched with rapt attention; playing before their eyes was edited footage from the First Quarter ranking matches of Fireteam B227, their opponents for tomorrow’s mock battle.

Extraordinary physical athleticism and feather-light footwork. Beneath their carefree, high-spirited antics lay rational, textbook teamwork backed by solid tactical theory.

The footage showed everything Misora’s platoon had lacked until now.

And naturally, their eyes were drawn to all the things they didn’t have.

“This girl here—Lily Lancaster—is a year ahead of you guys and a first-rate Platoon Leader. For all she goofs around, she’s quick-witted at every turn, has a wide field of vision, and boasts serious technical skill.”

“And unless we take down that Lily-san, we don’t have a chance of winning tomorrow, right?”

“Yep. And going up against her one-on-one is bad news. She knows exactly where to look to lock down key points, and her commands to her squadmates are spot-on. I’m willing to bet Yuri rates her pretty highly too.”

Which meant that figuring out how to crack Lily’s defense really was the key to everything.

“So how are we supposed to beat her, then?”

“Hmm. Frankly speaking, we’ve only got one trump card we can play.”

At those words, all three people in the room besides Misora let out a heavy, simultaneous sigh.

“B-But is pinning everything on that really going to be okay…?!”

“I’ve built our whole strategy around making sure that works. Frankly, we don’t have any other way to win.”

“True enough. We possess no other tactical avenue capable of securing victory.”

“Even so, within the limited hand we’ve been dealt, we’ve gotta do the absolute most we can—to grow stronger, and to keep clawing our way forward.”

“Even if we do, the gap in raw ability between us and them remains unchanged. In terms of individual skill and combat experience, a B-Rank platoon stands overwhelmingly above us.”

“The gap in individual skill and experience, huh. Sure, I won’t deny it’s there. Something like that can’t be closed in three days of training.”

“Wait a moment. Before we began this special training, did you not explicitly tell us that completing it would allow us to fight a B-Rank platoon on even ground?”

“As if a gap in individual skill and experience could be closed that easily. Didn’t I mention that?”

“““You most certainly did NOT!”””

“Well, is that a problem?”

Of course it’s a problem…!

Misora bit back the urge to shout that at the top of her lungs.

How should she describe the look in his eyes? It wasn’t naive enough to be called innocent, nor was it passive enough to be called simple. Yet whenever she looked into Kanata’s eyes at moments like this, every word of protest died in her throat.

And in their place, Kanata imparted an unshakable courage and confidence.

“Strength as a platoon—when each of you covers for the others’ weaknesses and fights as a single team, your strength is second to none. Plus, we’ve got a concrete strategy to seize victory. All we need after that is a little bit of luck. Rookies aren’t gonna beat seasoned pros head-on right out of the gate, after all. You’ll probably make a few boneheaded blunders out there, and for all I know, someone might pull a screwup so spectacular even a rank amateur would do better. Especially Misora.”

“Eh?! M-Me…?!”

Scandalized, Misora protested—only for everyone else in the room to nod in solemn agreement.

“Still, no matter how clumsy someone is, everyone has at least one thing that shines. Every human being has something inside them that’ll gleam if you polish it. That’s why the three of you are standing here today as Fireteam E601 of the Guardian Department. …Now then, you all know who’s gonna deliver the finishing blow to the enemy platoon tomorrow, right?”

Every pair of eyes in the room turned squarely toward the simpleton who had blown up her own house.

Getting Misora and the others to fully grasp the intricacies of tomorrow’s battle plan took quite a while.

Misora struggled to wrap her head around her own movement timings, and Lecty needed extra time to memorize her cues as well. By the time they wrapped up, it was well past the curfew hour recommended by the Academy Director. Stepping out of the quiet schoolhouse, Kanata and his three students approached the main gate.

Standing beside the gate was a solitary figure. Half-wondering if the serial attacker was lying in wait for them, Kanata subtly readied himself—only to blink.

“Hm? What’s up with you? Did you seriously wait around for us?”

“I-I was NOT waiting for you! Who in their right mind would wait around for the instructor of the platoon she’s facing in tomorrow’s mock battle?!”

Standing all alone by the school gate in her uniform was Yuri.

Evidently, she had been waiting there for quite some time; clutched in her hand was a plastic convenience-store bag containing only the empty wrapper of a sandwich.

“Come on, you were totally waiting for us. Your platoon wrapped up practice ages ago, didn’t they?”

“I just told you, it’s a sheer coincidence! I merely happened to bump into you and your platoon on my way out, Kanata-senpai! Besides, there was something I, umm… needed to say to her.”

Stepping past Kanata, Yuri walked straight up to the blinking Lecty.

“Umm… Thank you very much for looking after me the other night.”

“N-Not at all! U-Umm… y-you’re very welcome!”

Like a pair of overly polite office workers exchanging business cards, Yuri and Lecty bobbed their heads up and down in a flurry of bows.

Man, she really is conscientious to a fault, Kanata thought, genuinely impressed by how scrupulously Yuri followed through on her manners.

With that settled, Kanata’s group and Yuri set off down the road toward the dormitory together.

Word of the nighttime serial assaults had spread across campus in the form of rumors about the Phantom—the vengeful ghost of a Sky Wizard killed in action—keeping every student on high alert after dark.

As they walked through the shopping district, most of the storefronts had already pulled down their shutters or turned off their lights for the night. The joint night patrols conducted by Raven Nest doubtless contributed to the deserted streets as well.

In principle, students were forbidden to roam around town late at night.

“Huh, looks like you and Lecty have gotten pretty friendly, Yuri. Come to think of it, Misora, didn’t you manage to make friends with her?”

Kanata directed the casual question to Misora walking beside him.

“Not yet, I can’t. She’s the instructor of the squad we’re fighting tomorrow! If I get too friendly with her now and go soft, it’ll dull my edge in battle.”

“Huh. Suppose that makes sense.”

“Still, for someone as shy as Lecty to take a liking to her right away, Yuri-san must actually be a surprisingly nice person.”

“‘Surprisingly’? That’s pretty rude of you. Whenever she gets juniors of her own, I’m sure she’ll take great care of them. Though knowing how childish Yuri can be underneath that prim exterior, her juniors might end up teasing her instead.”

Passing through the quiet shopping district, Kanata and the girls arrived at the main intersection leading out toward the residential suburbs.

Turning right here would take them straight back to Artemia Dormitory without incident—

“Hmm. Hey, Kanata. You really care a lot about your old squadmates, don’t you? So why did you…”

Almost without thinking, Misora murmured the question aloud.

Of course she was afraid of breaking the delicate balance of their relationship as instructor and student.

If she could have her way, part of her wanted to stay just like this forever—maintaining this comfortable, familiar distance between instructor and student.

Yet more than that, she couldn’t stop wondering about the person named Kanata Age, and the secret he was carrying all alone…

“When you betrayed everyone back then… did it have something to do with that unknown power of yours…? …H-Hey, are you listening to me…?”

“Sorry, I just remembered an urgent errand I’ve gotta take care of.”

Had her question struck a nerve? Without breaking stride, Kanata veered off toward the left-hand road—

The street leading straight into District 4, the city’s entertainment quarter.

“Wait—is it because I asked something weird just now…?!”

“Nah, nothing to do with that. Just a quick errand I need to check on. …Hey, Yuri, sorry to ask after you waited around for us, but could you walk Lecty and the others back to the dorm for me tonight?”

“Eh?! …W-Well, I suppose I… don’t mind, but…”

“Alright, I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then. Make sure you’re at the Arena at least an hour before the mock battle starts.”

Giving a casual wave over his shoulder, Kanata walked briskly away down the side street.

As breezy and elusive a retreating back as ever. Because sudden, inexplicable detours were par for the course with him, no one except Misora thought much of it.

“W-Wait a second…!”

Letting Misora’s call fade behind him, Kanata immediately sharpened his senses to scan his surroundings.

Putting distance between himself and the girls, he headed deep into the deserted streets of 4th Street until he reached the abandoned redevelopment ruins—a bleak landscape hemmed in by crumbling, half-demolished concrete structures.

With eyes honed to a razor’s edge, he searched the surrounding shadows.

“Hmm… Could’ve sworn I felt someone watching us from right around here. Guess I imagined it?”

Muttering under his breath, Kanata turned to head back toward the dormitory.

High atop the roof of a derelict building overlooking the ruins, a pair of eyes watched him leave.

“Huh. For a traitor, he’s pretty sharp—noticing my gaze from all the way back at the intersection.”

Draped head to toe in his black robe, Real let out a gleeful, cackling laugh.

By now, he had already transcended humanity.

Having smuggled Chimera cells out of the Fifth Research Laboratory, he had been culturing them in his own room and injecting himself repeatedly.

Though he didn’t have a full-sized cultivation pod at home, a makeshift cultivation tank more than sufficed. On the night he had been driven back by Kanata, the moment he returned to his room, a voice had echoed directly inside his skull.

“USE ME… I WILL GRANT YOUR WISH…”

There had been no need to ask who was speaking. Without knowing how, he had understood instinctively that the voice belonged to the very same entity as the writhing lump of flesh inside the tank.

A will wholly alien to human consciousness was speaking directly into his mind.

Lending an ear to that demonic whisper had been effortless—and the bargain it offered was irresistible.

That’s right. Once I become truly strong this time, I can make Yuri my possession forever.

From the unfenced edge of the rooftop, Real looked down over the ruins.

Sitting beside his feet was a large B4-sized photo album. Picking it up and flipping it open, he gazed down at page after page plastered exclusively with photographs of Yuri Flostre.

From magazine clippings to candid voyeur shots traded covertly among male students, he had compiled an exhaustive dossier of her personal life.

There was nothing about Yuri he did not know:

Height 156 centimeters, weight 47 kilograms, three sizes B81/W56/H85, birthday March 3, favorite food sweets, disliked food anything bitter, hobby sewing—not a single detail escaped him.

From sneaking into the infirmary to steal her physical exam records to planting hidden cameras inside the girls’ locker rooms, he had stopped at nothing to know everything about Yuri.

Ever since the day he first laid eyes on her, not a single day had passed without her filling his every waking thought.

Which was precisely why Real genuinely believed:

Yuri and I understand each other so deeply… Why does everyone keep getting in the way of our romance?

“Trying to tear Yuri and me apart—that’s a bona fide crime, isn’t it?”

Wearing a smile twisted enough to turn the stomach of anyone who saw it, he melted back into the darkness of the night.