It was eleven o'clock in the morning when the temperature dropped oddly
low and freezing rain began to pour outside. A group of first-years was
seated in one classroom, listening anxiously. Meanwhile, their ancient
instructor's voice was stern and completely unaffected by current events.
"…Mages who dedicate themselves to magical duels often lose sight of
the true nature of spells. Speaking quickly, shortening casts as much as
possible—consider such behavior cause for alarm."
It was standard for their instructor, Frances Gilchrist, to start every class
with nagging warnings. The witch put a huge emphasis on a healthy respect
for spells. Techniques lacking this respect were to be avoided at all costs,
regardless of effectiveness.
"Only in magical duels does battling over meager seconds and finishing
a cast first result in a victory. Furthermore, battles are just a tiny part of a
mage's business. If any of you pride yourselves in the quickness of your
casting, I urge you to amend your thinking now. Lest you end up like
Badderwell."
"..."
Badderwell was a sorcerer famed for the speed of his spells, and yet, in
the end, he was done in by an average swordsman. Of course, Oliver
understood that Badderwell's fate was an important lesson that must be
taught. The elderly witch was entirely correct. But right now, that
"correctness" was what ate him up the most.
"Proper enunciation, careful mental imagery: These are the main
principles of spellcasting. Without them, haste makes waste. Even the basic
fire spells you all take for granted can be quite a different animal with
proper focus…"
This lecture was centered on the next ten years. Oliver balled his fists in
uncontrollable irritation. It was now that he desired power, now that his
friend was crying out for help.
"…Pete still hasn't come back…," Guy muttered, his plate piled high with
untouched food. The silence was painful. It wasn't just their table, either—
for the past few days, the characteristic boisterousness of the Fellowship
had been replaced by an eerie hush.
"…President Godfrey and the other upperclassmen are doing their best
to rescue the abducted. All we can do is have faith in them and wait," said
Chela.
"It's been days now."
Chela's statement caused Guy to smack his plate irritably with his fork.
Oliver chewed his lip.
"Like, are the prefects even trying? He's gonna starve at this rate!"
"…He's not the only one, Guy. I suggest you eat, too," Chela offered.
"What happened to the boy who could give Nanao a run for her money at
the dinner table?"
"How'm I supposed to have an appetite when my friend's been
kidnapped?!"
Guy slammed his fist onto the table, angry and bitter that he couldn't
join the effort to help his friend. Pete was Oliver's friend as well, but Oliver
tried his best to stay cool.
"Easy, Guy. There's nothing we can do. Right now…we can't help."
But despite his efforts, Oliver was practically screaming in anguish. The
two boys were equally frustrated by their powerlessness.
His emotions coming to a boil, Guy shouted, "Then you shoulda let me
get taken, too! At least if we were together, I could cook Pete something!"
"Cease this line of thinking, Guy. You cannot eat if you're dead."
The Azian girl's voice was stony as she solemnly proceeded with her
meal. Guy rounded on her.
"…What the hell is that supposed to mean, Nanao?"
"Precisely what it sounded like. If you or Pete perish, then the only food
you will ever see are the offerings at your grave."
"You think Pete's dead?!"
"I cannot say. However, in my home village, the vast majority of those
who went missing on the battlefield were found as corpses."
Guy was dumbstruck; Katie's shoulders quivered. Unwilling to let this
go, Oliver interjected.
"You're being too pessimistic, Nanao. From what I could see, it was
designed to capture its targets without killing them. There must be a reason
its master wanted Pete alive. If we can figure that out, the chances of him
surviving skyrocket."
As he spoke, Oliver began to lose confidence in how much of what he
was saying was speculation and how much was sheer hope. The group fell
silent again, until Katie muttered something from the end of the table.
"What…would this terrible person want with Pete, then?"
The silence grew heavier. No one could come up with an answer. Chela,
who had been eating almost robotically, quietly got to her feet.
"…It's time. I'm heading to our next class."
"Hey! Wait, Chela—!"
"There is no point in arguing among ourselves here."
She cut Guy off curtly and strode away. He looked at the floor and
gritted his teeth; her words were cold, but she was undoubtedly correct.
The more he thought about it, the more evident it became: If they were
powerless, then their only option was to rely on someone who could
accomplish what they couldn't.
"Noll?"
The academy's third-story lounge hardly ever saw first-years. But, as if
predicting his visit, Oliver's cousins were there waiting. Gwyn shot him a
look. Aware of the upperclassmen's stares, Oliver approached his cousin's
table.
"Allow me to be direct, Brother: Could you help in rescuing Pete?"
Oliver cut to the chase; there was no need to bring them up to speed on
the situation, as he'd already explained everything the other day.
Instantly, Shannon's face fell. Gwyn placed a fresh cup of tea in front of
Oliver, then responded calmly.
"If you're asking us to join in the search, then we've already been
assisting President Godfrey for three days now at his request. But in all
honestly…progress has been poor. Salvadori's territory is on the third level
of the labyrinth. If she truly wished to hide, finding her wouldn't be easy, to
put it mildly."
Oliver remained silent. He'd expected this answer. Of course the
prefects had already tapped any upperclassmen willing to help in the
search-and-rescue effort. Yet, still, they hadn't found a thing. A witch
hiding in the depths of the labyrinth could be a slippery prey—that much
was crystal clear.
"We cannot mobilize our allies in this situation. You understand why…
yes?" Gwyn added in a hush so that only Oliver could hear, speaking not as
his senior but as his vassal. Oliver silently signaled his understanding. Their
connection and plans couldn't afford to be exposed yet.
"Don't beat yourself up, Noll. I'm doing my best to help, too, okay?"
Shannon reached out and gently placed her hand on his tightly balled
fist. Oliver stared down at his reflection in the tea. All he saw looking back
at him was a weak little boy.
Naturally, Oliver wasn't the only one going around begging for help. That
day, as soon as their sword arts lesson was over, a girl's shriek echoed
through the vast classroom.
"Please! Please save Pete!" Katie begged, nearly in hysterics.
Master Garland, their sword arts instructor, looked at her completely
unperturbed. His face was as stiff as a mask, without a hint of his usual
friendliness.
"I'm sorry, but I can't. That's an academy rule, Ms. Aalto. The staff can
only intervene when the situation has become too much for students to
handle. In Mr. Reston's case, we are not at that stage yet."
"'Yet'? We have no idea what he's being put through! What will it take
for you to help, then?!" Katie demanded, livid. After a few seconds,
Garland answered firmly.
"The rule is that staff may begin searching for students lost in the
labyrinth after eight days have passed."
"'E-eight days'?!"
Her eyes went wide with shock at the completely unexpected and
unreasonable number. Garland seemed to understand her anger.
"It's because the possibility of survival drops dramatically after that
point. It sounds cruel, but the academy doesn't want its students to go
around thinking the staff will bail them out of any jam they find themselves
in. Under Kimberly's system, that would only lead to even further tragedies.
Your life and death are your own responsibility. That's what the
headmistress told you at the entrance ceremony. This is one of those times."
His decision was final. Katie was completely rebuffed; her shoulders
trembled, and her head hung low.
"…I understand."
She excused herself and turned around. Her hopes of getting an
instructor to help were gone. Instead, her eyes now burned with resolve.
"So we have to figure this out on our own, then."
Oliver arrived at their usual dinner table to find only Nanao sitting there.
Still feeling glum, he sat next to her and began eating, though his heart
wasn't in it.
"'Ello there. Strange times we live in, eh, Oliver?"
Almost instantly, someone called out to him from behind. Oliver raised
his hand limply but didn't turn around. There was no mistaking that unique
accent. Tullio Rossi, still nursing a loss from their duel in the labyrinth the
other day, strode over and stood right next to Oliver.
"I am sure you 'ave already noticed, but the battle royale is on 'old. The
whole academy is in a tizzy from the state of emergency. Not a good time
for first-years to be cavorting about, no? Too bad… Albright, Willock, and
even Pete got kidnapped, eh? Did I hear that right?"
Oliver didn't feel like engaging him, so he just gave a short nod. Rossi
studied him for a bit, then snorted.
"No need to look so down in the dumps…'ere, a piece of advice: You
had better not get any ideas—like going to rescue Pete yourself."
Oliver responded with more silence. After all this time, there was no
way he hadn't thought of that once or twice. But Rossi knew this, and he
continued.
"This is nothing like our little squabbles between first-years. That girl is
a Salvadori. The upperclassmen searching for 'er are risking their lives, no?
So what the hell can you and your little friends do? Not that I am in any
place to lecture you, though."
"..."
"Besides, you and Pete 'ave not known each other very long. No use
getting chummy with others. People can lose their lives anytime at
Kimberly; you must get used to letting people go, or you will only 'urt
yourself more."
For those who lived at Kimberly, there was no arguing with this line of
reasoning. Oliver gritted his teeth and stared at his plate.
Rossi sighed, then turned around. "I 'ad a feeling you would not
appreciate my meddling, eh? But you know—I would not like to see you
killed so quickly. I would be so bored."
And with that, he disappeared into the dining hall crowd. Oliver felt
pathetic; his nails dug into the tablecloth. Did he really look so desperate
that even a snake like Rossi felt the need to comfort him?
"…Oliver, do you have a moment?"
After leaving Nanao in the dining hall, Oliver wandered the halls alone
until a voice called out to him. He turned around to see Chela, her
expression stony.
"Yeah, sure—"
"Over here."
She urged him toward a more secluded spot. They stopped in a corner,
and Chela spoke again.
"First, I have some bad news. We cannot expect help from the staff. At
least, not for another five days."
"…Did you talk to Instructor McFarlane?"
"Yes. I even blatantly tried to use my position as his daughter to make
him act." She paused for a second, shoulders quivering. "My father said, 'If
you haven't the power to protect them, then the moment you make a friend
is also the moment you lose them. That's life here at Kimberly.'"
"..."
Oliver couldn't think of anything to say. Chela must have been similarly
struck speechless when her father had said those words. Oliver remained
silent, but Chela lifted her head.
"I thought I should inform you—I'm heading into the labyrinth tonight,"
she announced.
"—?!"
Oliver could hardly believe his own ears. But Chela's eyes were
brimming with determination, and he realized there could be no mistaking
her.
"Are you crazy, Chela? That's suicide."
"I know. Naturally, I'll be asking seniors for help first. Many of the
students here have ties to the McFarlanes in some way, so I'm sure I'll be
able to find someone to assist me."
Chela tried to explain that she wasn't going blindly to her grave. She
might not be able to rely on her father, Theodore, but she had a good
number of connections on campus. Oliver was aware of this. But he still
objected.
"That's just one more reason to leave this to the upperclassmen, then.
You said so earlier."
"…When Pete was captured, it was me who stopped you from going
back to help him. I bear some responsibility for this situation."
"Don't be ridiculous! Things were different then. I should be the one—"
He raised his voice, but Chela pressed her index finger over his lips,
silencing him.
"Listen to me. That was…a calculation."
"…A what?"
"I was weighing the risk of going back to help him and getting all of us
killed, versus our chances of survival if we abandoned him. I couldn't
devise an effective way to deal with that chimera. The one tiny detail I
could glimpse was that it was created to capture its prey alive. I assumed it
wouldn't immediately kill Pete."
She revealed what had gone through her mind that night—the panic of
seeing her friends in danger and the cold, calculating kernel of logic that
every grown mage possessed deep within.
"The best solution I could come up with at the time was to escape the
labyrinth with as few casualties as possible, then summon the
upperclassmen for help. Thus, I obviously couldn't let you go back. If you
went, Nanao would follow. And the others as well, I assume."
Oliver couldn't deny this. It was the same reason he'd stopped, too.
"I considered our chances if we all worked together, but the risk of us
dying seemed much greater. It wasn't just that one chimera down there. We
could've been caught by other beasts while trying to save Pete and the
others or have our path cut off and become trapped… So many disasters ran
through my mind, and so vividly."
She finished her speech calmly, then hung her head low. Oliver, who had
been cowed into silence, noticed her shoulders quaking.
"And—I weighed the value of our friend's life."
Her voice was dripping with self-loathing and regret. Oliver swallowed.
Chela had acted the calmest among all of them since Pete's kidnapping—
but the truth was, she was the most tortured by it.
"Please let me take make up for my mistake. Otherwise, I'll never be
able to look Pete in the eye again."
This will be my penance, she implied. There was no way he could just sit
by and watch her do this. His thoughts still jumbled, Oliver instinctively
replied, "…I'm coming, too."
"No you're not. If you don't stay, the other three will immediately come
after us into the labyrinth."
She shook her head, holding back the rest of the message: I'm not going
to drag anyone else to their death. However…
"…Oh—"
…it was pointless to try and convince her using words, so Oliver
grabbed her by the wrists. Chela seemed flustered, but he gripped harder so
as to keep hold. He locked her wavering eyes with his.
"I'm not letting you go alone," he practically shouted. "Not on my life!"
"Oliver…"
Chela stood completely still, a mixture of sadness and longing spread
over her face. Both at a loss for words, simply feeling the warmth of each
other's skin, a long silence fell over them.
"One suicide or two—that's the only difference in your plans."
A totally unexpected voice broke the silence. Surprised, Oliver and
Chela turned to the source to find a stressed-looking, curly-haired girl and,
standing next to her, an upperclassman with a kindly smile—Vera Miligan.
"Ms. Miligan?! But why—?"
"Yes, why indeed?" Miligan's gaze flicked to her side, and Katie looked
away awkwardly. Chela, putting the pieces together, glared at her.
"Katie…don't tell me you…"
"..."
Katie's silence spoke volumes.
In her stead, the Snake-Eyed Witch explained dryly, "'You can
experiment on my body all you want—just save my friend!' Boy, you guys
sure have a tight-knit group, don't you? It's too pure for my evil eye to
behold."
It was about what he'd imagined. Oliver fixed Katie with a withering
stare.
"You're selling your body, Katie?!"
"…I am, if it means I can save my friend."
"Katie… Honestly, what am I going to do with you…?" Dizzy, Chela
held her forehead in her hand.
Oliver glared at the Snake-Eyed Witch. "I'm sorry, Ms. Miligan, but I
need you to decline her request right now."
"Oliver! This was my decision!"
"Yeah, I know. You made it all on your own, without consulting any of
us!"
He made no effort to hide his anger, and Katie's voice caught in her
throat. Miligan, however, didn't seem bothered by the tension in the air.
"I figured this would happen," she said. "But really—what exactly do
you have planned? None of you intends on abandoning your friend. You're
all set on going to save Pete, no matter what methods you have to employ.
Correct?"
"..."
Oliver bit his lip. He knew all too well the pain that had driven Katie to
make her rash decision. They couldn't sit on the sidelines or hesitate
anymore. Pete could be crying out for help this very second.
"You have good intentions, but I don't like your chances," Miligan
continued. "President Godfrey and any upperclassmen amicable to the
cause have already been mobilized to bring the situation under control. You
kids don't have what it takes to act like heroes. That said, I'm heading into
the labyrinth tonight."
Reality shoved in their faces, the three friends fell silent. Miligan
shrugged. "Let's just talk this out. For better or worse, I still owe you guys
for the thing with Katie. I can lend an ear for free."
The witch attempted to placate them.
Oliver shared a look with Chela and, after some slight hesitation, took
her up on her offer. "…What do you think is the best way to increase Pete's
chances of survival?"
He'd been so focused on saving Pete, he'd put no thought into how.
Now acutely aware of his mistake, he sought an answer from Miligan. She
crossed her arms and pondered.
"Hmm, good question… The safest option would be to not interfere with
the students already involved with the rescue effort. They won't let anyone
murder a lowerclassman without a fight. I'm sure they're doing their best to
bring everyone home safely."
"…I don't deny that. However, even if we leave everything up to them,
what are the chances they succeed, in your opinion?" Chela asked, cursing
her own ineffectiveness.
Miligan thought for a few seconds. "Depends on how you interpret the
situation. If you're asking how likely it is that the abductees are still alive,
even after all this time, the odds are quite good. But if you include the fact
that they were kidnapped, especially by a student consumed by the spell—
well, that changes things quite a bit."
Oliver figured as much. This was way more complicated than a simple
accident.
"You can probably come up with some numbers based on past cases, but
each one is so different that the calculations won't mean much. If you really
want to determine Pete's odds of survival, you have to fully analyze
whatever state he currently finds himself in."
Katie and Chela fell into thought. She had a point—Oliver agreed. That
was one of the first things they needed to determine: What exactly was Pete
dealing with? What were the dangers?
"…Ophelia Salvadori is in your year, isn't she?" Oliver asked, lifting his
head as he remembered this fact. The Snake-Eyed Witch smiled.
"Good deduction. Yes, I do in fact know her. Unfortunately, we weren't
what you'd call friends, but I can still imagine what's going on with her at
the moment."
The three friends looked at Miligan with hope in their eyes as she laid
her knowledge upon them.
"And if we use that to calculate Pete's chances of survival…we get
twenty percent, at best," she stated flatly.
"""...!"""
"Salvadori has no reason to let Pete leave alive, nor even the presence of
mind to consider it. Consumed by the spell as she is, she will be using every
tool at her disposal in order to further her research. Nothing is above
sacrificing for her. She'll be burning through her abductees as if they grow
on trees."
Oliver and the girls stared at their feet and gritted their teeth, trying to
fight off the overwhelming sense of despair. Most of what Miligan was
saying was pure speculation, and yet, it hit with surprising force. Their hope
of seeing Pete come back alive was fading fast. Then, as if waiting for just
the right moment, Miligan continued.
"I say twenty percent because I can imagine how she's using those lives,
too. The field of research Ophelia specializes in doesn't require her to
immediately kill them. Their use isn't as sacrifices but as fuel."
They realized the meaning behind this comparison—in both cases, the
subject would be killed, but in the latter one, it would take time to fully
burn up.
"You get it, don't you? It's a race to see if Godfrey and the other prefects
can save them in time. Not only do they have to play hide-and-seek in the
vast labyrinth, but there's no denying the disadvantage playing catch-up
means for them. Salvadori's been carefully planning this for a while."
"Then even more so, they should welcome as many helping hands as
possible. Does our involvement not increase Pete's chances of survival, in
your opinion?" Chela asked, a hand to her chest in concern.
But Miligan immediately shook her head. "I can't see it. In fact, it likely
lowers his survival rate. If you kids do something reckless and end up in
danger, the rescue team will have to divert resources in order to help you."
"..."
Chela bit her lip and looked at the floor. She couldn't argue with the
accusation of being powerless, and her two friends were no different.
"However, if you can manage to not get in the way, that 20 percent
chance of victory could turn into a 20.1 percent chance."
Their heads rose instantly in unison at this. Oliver studied Miligan's
impish smile with suspicion.
"…What does that mean?"
"I'm saying you have some hope, depending on your training. This is
just my opinion, of course." The witch looked at Oliver and Chela for a
second, then closed her eyes. "Let's change the subject. Truth be told, my
research has reached a dead end."
The sudden confession shocked them. Miligan continued with a note of
bitterness in her voice. "But I guess that much is obvious. Now that my
endless source of demi-humans is gone, I can't keep using my past
methods. Instructor Darius took care of all my needs, but he's gone missing.
President Godfrey is also on my ass thanks to our previous incident. My
hands are basically tied no matter what I want to do."
Oliver was racked with anxiety, but he didn't let even a hair on his head
fall out of place. Stay calm, he told himself. Darius Grenville was a
Kimberly instructor, and the importance of his position meant his
disappearance would affect many parts of the academy. Naturally, Miligan,
who had been receiving his support, would reference this.
"Luckily, there is a bright side. See, I also have an interest in
interspecies communication studies, just as Katie does. You all remember
the final key to the success of the intellectualization of our troll friend, don't
you?"
Marco the troll, who'd been placed under Katie's care, popped into their
minds. They'd gotten separated in the labyrinth, and none of them had any
idea if he was okay. After Miligan had messed with his brain, it was only
thanks to Katie's devoted attempts at communication that he learned to
speak the human tongue, creating a trusting relationship that crossed
barriers.
"So in the interest of digging into a new field, I offered Katie a position
as my coresearcher. That's why I gave her an entire workshop, as a sort of
foundation to build upon. I wanted to come off as a kind, generous mentor."
Her frank manner made Oliver furrow his brow. Talk about shameless.
Did she forget about how she'd kidnapped Katie and tried to split open her
skull?
"Which is why even if you hadn't stopped her, Oliver, I would have shot
down Katie's idea anyway. It would be such a waste to only be able to pick
your brain once you're dead." The Snake-Eyed Witch grinned and paused.
A moment later, she continued. "So here's my proposal—I'll train you all
until you're at least able to assist the rescue effort. Of course, I'll also help
you search for Pete and guide you through the labyrinth."
Three sets of eyes stared at her in disbelief. Oliver and his friends
mulled over Miligan's unexpected offer.
"In exchange, once this situation is taken care of, Katie will become my
coresearcher."
"…Huh?" Katie squeaked in surprise at the added condition.
Oliver stepped in before she could follow up. "…By 'coresearcher,'
what exactly do you mean?" he demanded.
"Quite literally, we'll be comrades researching the same field," Miligan
replied. "Oftentimes this entails a teacher-student relationship, but in this
case, we'll be equals. I have zero experience in this field, you see. Of
course, we'll perform our research together, and Katie will be able to learn
from my expertise if it becomes relevant. The only thing limiting her will
be her own willingness and the amount of effort she puts in. So what do you
think of that? No need to sell any bodies, right? Plus, this deal benefits both
sides greatly."
"I accept!" Katie immediately raised her hand, looking at Oliver and
Chela. "I'm not going to let you stop me! This is a good deal—you have to
see that!"
Her fearsome gaze brooked no argument. Oliver put up his hands in a
show of submission. "Calm down, Katie. You're right—it sounds like a
good deal. Too good… Ms. Miligan, have you really told us everything
you're after?"
He locked eyes with the Snake-Eyed Witch as he expressed his doubts.
He wasn't about to take a deal like this at face value—not at Kimberly, and
especially not coming from Vera Miligan.
"If you're asking if I have ulterior motives, then sure I do. Lots of them,
in fact. But you'll have to figure that out on your own. Don't blindly trust
me—calculate the risk versus return, then decide if this deal fits your needs.
That's what a transaction between mages is like."
She lectured them like the inexperienced mages they were; Oliver's and
Chela's expressions hardened as they considered her offer. She was right, of
course. All mages harbored secrets. It wouldn't do to simply place their
hopes in her good intentions—they had to be prepared to read into every
last detail to get a peek behind the curtain.
"..."
And so Oliver searched for a motive. What did Miligan stand to gain
from this deal, besides an improvement in her relationship with Katie?
"…This allows you to get closer to Nanao, too, doesn't it?"
He confidently mentioned the first thing that came to mind. Chela and
Katie seemed confused, but Miligan—who had experienced Nanao's
spellblade personally—curled the corners of her lips into a playful smile.
Bull's-eye.
"Not that I'd be able to get up to anything naughty with you around,"
Miligan said and shrugged, then got back on topic. "Keep in mind," she
added, "even should you accept, there's no guarantee that Pete will make it
back alive. There's no guarantee you'll make it back alive, either."
As scary as it sounded, this seemed like a sincere warning to Oliver and
Chela. After all, they were trying to rescue their friend from the Ophelia
Salvadori. Of course they would be risking their lives.
"But it still gives us a chance! …Let's do it! Oliver, Chela—let's save
Pete!"
Katie, her mind totally set, pushed her two friends to join her. Miligan,
however, dumped water on her fire.
"Sorry to burst your bubble, Katie, but you can't come with us."
"What?!"
"To be brutally honest, you're too green. Any lower than the second
layer and you'll just get in the way. I'll be taking Mr. Horn, Ms. McFarlane,
and Ms. Hibiya, and that's not up for discussion."
Katie was dumbfounded by the sudden ostracizing. Oliver and Chela
looked at each other, thought for a bit, then both nodded.
"…All right."
"No objections."
"Whaaaat?! W-wait a second! This was my idea!"
"Easy, Katie," said Miligan. "We still need you to hold down the fort
here. Traveling to the third layer isn't some weekend trip. Your friends will
need someone to take notes for them in class."
Miligan placed a hand gently on Katie's shoulder and tried to soothe her.
Oliver joined in. "Sorry, Katie, but can we ask this of you? I promise
we'll bring back Pete and Marco."
"Ohhh… I can't believe this!" Katie was on the verge of tears.
Chela swooped in and hugged her. "Please, Katie," she urged, her voice
shaking, "do as we tell you. We absolutely cannot take you with us. You're
too willing to sacrifice yourself…"
Oliver was in complete agreement. They tried their best to console their
sniffling friend. Meanwhile, Miligan spun around.
"That's settled, then. Let's meet back here in two hours. Catch up Ms.
Hibiya for me, will you? And come prepared."
With that, the Snake-Eyed Witch left. Oliver shot Chela a look over
Katie's head, and she nodded.
Chela and Katie exited the academy, returned to the girls' dorm, and headed
straight for their room. When they arrived, Chela gently knocked on the
door.
"…It's me. May I come in, Nanao?"
"Mm, enter."
The reply was immediate. Chela and Katie slowly opened the door and
stepped into the room—and stared in shock. Nanao was sitting on her knees
waiting for them, bags packed and ready for a descent into the labyrinth.
"'Tis time to go, then?"
Her eyes fluttered open. Chela and Katie were taken aback.
"You're already packed…?"
"I knew your hearts were set the moment this all began. I have simply
been awaiting your summons."
Nanao got down from the bed and stood before them.
Chela had prepared a whole speech that was no longer needed—but the
lack of a preamble lent a graver tone to her next question. "Like I said
earlier, we should expect the worst. Are you still prepared to go?"
She had to ask. At breakfast, Nanao had pointed out that there was no
proof Pete was still alive. Risking their lives to venture down into the
labyrinth and save him could be a waste of time—or worse, the rescuers
would need rescuing.
The Azian girl nodded without hesitation. A terribly serene smile was on
her lips.
"No matter the result, 'tis the same—whether we go to rescue a friend or
retrieve a corpse."
Chela's and Katie's chests tightened. On the battlefields Nanao had
survived prior to joining the academy, this must have been par for the
course.
"…I'm sorry, Nanao… I can't go…"
Katie apologized with tears in her eyes, then squeezed Nanao's arm.
Chela explained Miligan's plan, and Nanao nodded and smiled.
"You and Guy shall be holding down the fort, then. I entrust you two
with our studies."
"…Yeah, leave it to us. You'll get the best notes you've ever read!"
Katie wiped her tears, promised to do her very best, and embraced her
friend tightly. They would definitely meet again. Her battle was to wait and
believe in them.
"…I can't come, too?"
Meanwhile, in the boys' dorm, Oliver explained the situation to Guy.
Upon realizing no amount of begging would allow him to help search
for Pete, Guy slumped his shoulders and heaved a great sigh.
"…I hate saying it, but I can't deny I'd hold you back."
"Guy…"
"Here…take this."
Guy retrieved something from on top of his bed and handed it to Oliver:
a number of thick, round, wrapped objects and a few drawstring pouches
packed full to bursting. He explained their contents as Oliver took them
from him.
"Those are my best rations, plus some bundles of toolplant seeds I raised
and harvested. They're how I instantly made that barricade the other day.
I'm guessing you already know how to use 'em."
"…Yeah, that barricade worked really well. I'll be sure to use these if I
need to."
Oliver smiled and nodded, gratefully accepting his friend's assistance.
Guy continued, slightly muted. "The rations should taste much better
than anything you can buy at the store… I mean, you gotta eat, right? Might
as well have it taste good. Make sure to save one for Pete, too. Bet he's
starving."
He stopped there, but after a while, the silence seemed too much for
him, and he raked his hands through his hair. Oliver understood his pain all
too well. If their positions were reversed, he'd likely feel the exact same
way.
"Ahhh, damn it! I hate gettin' told I hafta stay behind. It's pathetic…
Listen, don't do anything crazy. I'm being serious here!"
His voice cracked as he grabbed Oliver by the shoulders. His fingers
squeezed painfully, but Oliver only nodded confidently.
"I swear to you we'll all come back alive—including Pete."
He promised to survive so that he could see this kindhearted friend of
his again.
Later, at the time and hall designated by Miligan, Oliver and Guy arrived to
find a bunch of familiar faces.
"We're all here, then. Not said your good-byes yet?" Miligan asked as
she grinned at Guy and Katie, who were not part of the rescue team.
"Doesn't matter to me, but do it silently at least. With the academy in a state
of emergency, second-years and below aren't allowed into the labyrinth. If
the prefects catch us, there'll be hell to pay."
And with that warning, the witch turned on her heel and strode down the
hall. The five of them followed after her. Moving quietly and cautiously,
they ascended to the second floor, hiding whenever an older student was
coming. It took them ten minutes to reach their destination classroom. On
the wall was a painting of a night sky; Miligan stopped right in front of it.
"This will be our entrance tonight. It's possible we could be attacked as
soon as we enter, so I'll go first. Oh, but before that…"
She turned around suddenly, produced something from her robe pocket,
and handed it to Katie.
"Katie, take care of Milihand. Think of her as my will and testament."
"…Huh?"
Katie instinctively accepted the object but froze the moment she looked
at the thing she was holding—a severed hand. Miligan's left hand to be
precise, severed by Nanao and residence of the basilisk eye: In a dark twist,
Miligan had given it artificial life and turned it into her familiar. The
basilisk eye in the center of its palm stared up at Katie. It seemed almost
friendly.
"If I don't make it back here alive, she'll serve as the key to reading my
research results. She can be needy, so be kind to her."
"Wh-what…? H-hold on a second!"
Milihand scuttled up Katie's arm to her shoulder and, determining this
as its spot, "sat" down. Oliver sighed. The disembodied hand seemed to
have the same affection for Katie as its master.
"Thanks. Bye!"
"Wait—!"
Miligan slipped into the painting despite Katie's confusion. Now it was
their turn. Katie struggled to find the right words, so Chela and Oliver
smiled at her reassuringly.
"It'll be fine, Katie," said Chela. "I won't let anyone die."
"Neither will I. All ready, Nanao?"
His mind set, Oliver turned to the girl beside him for one final
confirmation.
Nanao nodded without the slightest hesitation. "I was born ready. Now
—to battle!"
On her signal, the three of them jumped into the painting.
"..."
"..."
Even after they were gone and the dark classroom had gone silent, Guy
and Katie continued to stare at the painting for quite a while.