When Kimberly students become upperclassmen, several roadblocks
lie in their way—and one of the biggest is entering the labyrinth's
fourth layer.
"I've heard of precious few s-second-years making it down here.
Even with help…they just g-get in the way. I didn't set foot down
here until, I think…the end of my fourth year. And I got m-my arm
melted off, so…it was m-memorable."
The third layer—the Miasma Marsh. Leaving tracks in the sticky mud,
the gaunt young man beside Oliver spoke with a mild stutter. A sixthyear student by the name of Robert Dufourcq. One of the comrades
who knew Oliver's hidden face, he always wore a gloomy smile.
"Yeah, I remember that! You went into the assignment insisting you
only needed backup from the rear. If I hadn't stepped in, you'd have
lost half your body, maybe even ended up with your name in the
joint funeral two years ago."
The girl teasing him was another comrade, a seventh-year named
Karlie Buckle who had short red hair and pierced ears. Her plainspoken manner came across as friendly, but there was a dangerous
gleam in her eyes that made her slightly unapproachable.
"C-can't argue th-there. But…y-you didn't get off any easier. You're
scary enough without acid b-burning half your face off—"
"You wanna talk shit about my face, there'll be consequences."
Her hand had the back of Robert's head in a vise grip. Bones creaked.
Oliver's cousin Gwyn coughed pointedly.
Karlie let go and flashed Oliver a smile.
106 | P a g e
"Sorry, Your Majesty. I'm a real loudmouth. Always have been! Can't
stand being quiet. Go ahead and chide me for it; I don't mind. Hey,
maybe I should be stressing this a bit more."
107 | P a g e
108 | P a g e
"…No need."
Oliver shook his head, unable to think of any worthy reproach. He
might be only in his second year, but with this mask on, he was their
lord. If his vassals were distracted, upperclassmen or not, he was
prepared to snap at them. But here?
"It's a comfort. I'm not yet capable of joking on this layer."
Karlie's trash talk might include a knock against him, but she wasn't
letting her guard down. This was how she always acted—proof she
knew how to handle the situation at hand.
"Hmph, least you admit it," she replied with a snort. "But is that a
virtue for a man in your position?"
"Karlie!" Gwyn snapped. She was a year older than him, but he was
Oliver's right hand. "Get off Noll's back. And Robert, don't just stand
there! Stop her."
Karlie shrugged this off, and Robert bobbed his head, glancing
sideways at Oliver.
"S-sorry, Gwyn. B-but…I'd also like to talk to him. While I have the
chance."
They all had good reason for wanting to know Oliver better. And he
was perfectly aware of this, hence why he hadn't pushed them away.
"It's fine," Oliver said, waving his brother down. "Don't worry about
me, Gwyn."
But just as things seemed settled, a girl caught up from behind,
moving into the space between his comrades. Oliver blinked at his
sister—Shannon Sherwood's usual gentle smile was conspicuously
absent.
"Heh-heh-heh, looks like someone disagrees," Karlie jeered, not even
trying to hide the look in her eyes: Ain't it nice to have your cousin
protecting you, little lord?
109 | P a g e
Oliver held his tongue, racking his brain over how best to handle her.
"…Don't…be mean…to Noll!"
"I'm just messin' with him. Did it seem mean?"
"…It did. Like…no answer he gives will please you."
"Ah-ha-ha! Guess it was kinda obvious."
Karlie doubled over laughing, not a trace of guilt. Palpable tension
crackled between the two girls—but then strong vibrations rose up
from the mud at their feet. Oliver was about to bark a warning when
Karlie grabbed his collar and pulled him to one side.
"–––––!"
And the moment he vacated the space, the ground burst. Spraying
mud everywhere, a wyrm emerged, easily over ten yards long. One
of the third layer's biggest threats, they detected the vibrations of
mages walking overhead and attacked from below. Sawlike teeth
lined its ring-shaped maw, and it wheeled in the air, aimed for
Oliver's head, intent on capturing the prey it had just been denied.
""""Tonitrus!""""
Four spells cast in unison shot directly into that gaping maw. The
creature's long, thick body shook and went still—then flopped to the
mud, blowing bubbles. Before Oliver could get his wits about him,
Shannon was at his side. None of his comrades paid the least bit of
attention to the downed foe.
"We're almost out of the third layer," Karlie said. "It's about to get
dicey. You ready for it, Your Majesty?"
"…Yeah." Oliver nodded, not letting himself shudder. To the
upperclassmen, that attack hadn't even qualified as dicey, a point
they'd made all too clear.
110 | P a g e
It was another twenty minutes before they reached the end of the
marsh. Now in territory beyond where the Ophelia incident had
taken him, Oliver came to a halt, a knot in his stomach. The shift in
his surroundings was all too clear. The ground, walls, and ceiling
were all made of shiny stone. He and his comrades were in an
ellipsoid clearing the size of the campus arena, at the back of which
lay double doors.
"…So this is…"
"The way to the fourth layer. Commonly called Library Plaza."
Even as Karlie spoke, changes were unfolding before Oliver's eyes.
The space before the doors warped, and a black thing emerged. Like
a bundle of pitch-black rags, it quickly took form, stabilizing as a
gaunt figure over seven feet tall, its head hidden beneath that black
cloth. It spoke not a word, but the mana radiating from it—nay, the
aura of death—left Oliver's hand scrabbling for his athame.
"…!"
"Relax! You won't be fighting that. Not that the real foe is much of an
improvement…"
Karlie patted his shoulders and then glanced back at the rest of their
comrades.
"As planned, we'll be handling tasks in threes. Me and Robert will
keep the king safe. We still good with that, Sherwoods?"
"…N—"
"We are."
Shannon started to object, but Gwyn cut her off, nodding in
agreement. Oliver said nothing, but Gwyn's interjection was greatly
appreciated. He valued his sister's concern, but he wouldn't be much
of a lord if he allowed only his family to protect him.
"I'll be fine. You two look after Teresa."
111 | P a g e
"…Noll…"
"Got it."
Shannon still looked nervous, but Gwyn nodded grimly. Teresa
simply watched everything, her eyes betraying no emotion. Oliver
turned his back on them and joined the two older comrades,
advancing to the center of the plaza.
"Looks like you got your wits about ya," Karlie said. "But all kidding
aside—do not step out in front of us."
"Or rather, we won't l-let you. If anyone's d-dying here, it'll be us ffirst."
Robert's halting speech was accompanied by a gloomy smile. Oliver
didn't doubt him for a moment, but chose to respond as a lord
should.
"Then I have but one thing to say: I have not granted either of you
permission to die here."
Those words came like a slap on their backs, and both his comrades
grinned.
"Ha-ha! You got it."
"F-fair warning. Let's m-make this look easy."
Karlie and Robert raised their athames. A moment later, a book
appeared in the black-robed figure's hands.
Spotting the cover, Karlie yelled, "Luck's on our side! I've seen it
before. Our assigned reading is Baltro's Memoirs!"
Several dozen pages flew up from the book, cocooning the trio in a
swirl of paper that instantly revamped their surroundings. Oliver
could no longer see his cousins or Teresa.
"Ch-chapter eight, verse two! The G-Glynntoad Calamity!"
112 | P a g e
By the time Robert finished, they were elsewhere. Surrounded by
rustic farmland. Ordinaries tilling the fields with hoes in hand, or
milking cows—which Oliver found inherently unnerving. It was all far
too dated, from the people's clothes to the way they worked. This
had to be over two hundred years ago—before the magical industrial
revolution.
"S-surprised? J-just as it l-looks. P-part of the t-tome's contents hhave been recreated."
"Escape ain't impossible, so it's better than an aria in that respect.
Except—this library's pretty well stocked."
Oliver was catching up. The view before him wasn't real—it was
sourced from the book. He knew not where or when this was, but—it
was the stage of the calamity Robert had mentioned. And proof of
that lay in how nobody around was aware of their presence.
"Baltro's Memoirs, chapter eight, verse two—an account of a
migration witnessed in the year 984. And the casualties it brought
about."
Even as she spoke, Karlie's eyes were on the sky above. It wasn't
quite noon yet, and the weather was overcast—but at the center of
those clouds was a dark, swirling vortex. The ordinaries around them
spotted it, too, pointing and yelling.
"Here it comes. Watch close—this is the calamity the tír bring to our
world."
And a moment later, hundreds of things poured out of the vortex,
falling toward the ground. They appeared to be short cylinders,
seven feet in diameter—rusty gears or wheels. But as they slammed
into the earth, they began spinning like ball golems—and causing
devastation.
"Eek…?!"
113 | P a g e
"Aughhhhhh!"
Fields, homes, livestock, people; the wheel-like things made no
distinctions, crushing all in their paths. The sight of their neighbors'
demise left the survivors screaming. Waves of fear rippled across the
landscape. The wheels made no effort to pursue the fleeing humans,
simply tracing elaborate geometric spirals from the outside in,
flattening everything in their paths.
As the screams rang in his ears, Oliver fought the impulse to do
something. The sights before him were but a recreation; this tragedy
was long in the past. He knew this, but it ate at him.
"You see what they're doing? That's what we call indiscriminate
feeding. Often seen in packs after an unplanned migration. They've
found themselves in a whole new world and don't know right from
left, so they just try eating everything to see if it goes down. Plants or
animals, animate or inanimate, no distinction. They just eat and puke
till they find things that suit their fancy."
Karlie's lecture helped Oliver understand what he was witnessing.
Those wheels were alive. When he looked closely, people, livestock,
and dwellings alike were losing mass far beyond what could be
explained by mere crushing. It boggled the mind, but it seemed these
monsters fed by running things over. That was how the wheels ate
and how they hunted.
They were utterly different from the creatures of this world. Even
magical creatures had not evolved like this. These creatures must
have hailed from a fundamentally different ecosystem, otherwise
they never would have evolved to acquire these characteristics.
Uninvited guests from a strange and terrible world—the essence of a
migration.
"Uh-oh. They're c-coming this way."
114 | P a g e
Robert pointed. A wheel was rolling toward them. Karlie pointed her
athame in its direction.
"Better take a look at this one. Colligationem."
Her spell hit the wheel a few yards out, stopping it dead, like it was in
the grip of an invisible hand. She'd forcibly restrained it with a
binding spell.
"Okay, safe to inspect. The shape's a doozy, but the actual physical
construction is on the comprehensible side for migrations. Pack
hunting ain't too far-flung from the creatures we know and love,
right?"
Karlie launched right into a lecture, maintaining the constraint. The
mana output this required was no small feat. Impressed, Oliver
focused on the tír creature before him, eyes poring over it. Robert
was using his athame to dissect the wheel. Where he cut, gray fluid
spilled out, revealing soft tissues beneath—likely organs. It really was
alive.
"Casualties are pretty high even at this stage, but once they've
locked onto their prey, they get far worse. Best to make the most of
it. You know—while they're still preoccupied."
She finished off the restrained wheel and turned her eyes toward the
indiscriminate feeders. Easy enough to handle on their own, but the
assignment was to take out the whole pack.
"Going one at a time'll take forever. But there's a great way to
handle foes like this. Robert, take 'em out."
"A-alone? You could h-help, you know."
He shook his head and stepped forward. He opened the front of his
robe, revealing dozens of test tubes strapped beneath it. Each had a
magical creature sealed within—radiating magical malevolence. He
selected one—a type of fairy—and popped the lid.
115 | P a g e
"Satus sursum."
The spell released the fairy from torpor, and it shook itself, hopped
out of the tube, and flew off toward the migratory monsters. This
behavior was mandated by the spell cast on it. But of course, a tiny
fairy had no recourse against a mighty wheel. It was crushed and
eaten—along with the curse it harbored.
The infected wheel's behavior immediately changed. The precise
coordination was gone, and it charged right at its own pack. The
wheel it struck changed with it, the curse spreading like waves. The
migrant monsters were now feeding on one another. Oliver
shuddered, balling his fists tightly.
"Works like a charm!" Karlie said. "Cannibal curses are just the thing
for close-knit packs."
That was all it took for Oliver to catch on. This was how curses
worked: use a creature harboring a curse as a medium to transfer
the spell, feeding it to your target to infect them. And not just the
target itself—contact with the infected host would spread that curse
through the whole population. The wheels crashed into each other,
splitting open, cracking, then collapsing.
"They're going down fast! But don't relax yet. The curse intensity
ain't dropping at all. That shit stacks each time they feed. The law of
curse conservation! If we see this through to the bitter end…"
As the numbers dwindled, the fighting was getting more intense.
Each slain fellow was multiplying the curse's effects, concentrating
them in the remaining wheels. A hundred wheels became fifty, fifty
became twenty, and twenty became ten. Their clashes were
ceaseless. At length, there were only two left, and they crashed
head-on into each other—then only one remained, radiating an inkyblack aura.
116 | P a g e
"You get one left, and it's stuffed. And if you kill it, the curse leaks
out. Normally, you'd catch it and break the curse, but this is just an
ancient record, so we don't need the follow-through. Curse effects in
assignments are neatly handled by the library itself."
Karlie cast a burst spell to get its attention. The last wheel rolled
toward the noise, its inherent nature entirely overwritten by the
curse, its cognitive functions reduced to the instinct to crush and eat
anything that moved. Oliver raised his athame. The sole survivor was
twice the size of the others, and the curses it had absorbed made it
far stronger. But…
"Now, now, hold your horses, Your Majesty."
Karlie waved him down, then stepped forward. Robert backed off,
standing by Oliver's side. Yielding the stage to her.
"…Haaaaah…"
She took a long, deep breath. The closer this thing got, the more
dangerous it was, but Karlie wasn't budging. The wheel bore down
on her, its hostility palpable. Unable to bear it, Oliver cried out,
"Karlie!"
"Extruditor!"
The moment he yelled, she'd finally swung her athame. Not to attack
head-on, though; just as her target seemed about to hit, she'd struck
a blow to its side—like a hook to the brow. The wheel creature was
moving at top speed, powerless to resist a push from that angle. It
rolled right past Karlie before toppling over onto its side. It spun
uselessly, scattering dust, pebbles, and the blood of its own kind.
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Just keep on spinning!"
Karlie pounced on it. She landed on the wheel's side, at the center
axle—no matter how fast it spun, it could do nothing to her there. It
shot out a bunch of spikes to protect its weakness, but she'd known
117 | P a g e
that was coming, easily dodged, and stabbed her blade straight into
the creature. She didn't even need to move her athame. With the
blade held still, the wheel kept spinning, driven by instinct—and
delivering a fatal wound via the same principle as a can opener.
"Bye-bye. Impetus."
Once the lid was open, Karlie didn't hesitate. She pounded home a
spell to finish it off. It was like a hammer of wind slamming into the
wheel's insides, forcing the severed disc inward and crushing all the
soft bits beyond. A moment later, bodily fluids squirted out in all
directions.
"Okay, assignment complete," she said. "Mm? Your Majesty, did you
call my name just now?"
Covered in gray fluid, Karlie turned back to Oliver, grinning. She was
a grisly sight.
"N-nasty, right? Th-that's why they call her Bloody Karlie. She does
the s-same shit to people, too."
"..."
Oliver had no words, but relief was winning out. They'd gotten
through this without any injuries.
"We lucked into an easy assignment," Karlie said. "These can get real
bad if the draw's against you."
Their surroundings were already fading, giving way to the big doors
they started at. She glanced back at Gwyn's group, giving them a
wave.
"Goin' on in! We'll show him around."
"We'll be right behind. Don't go too deep," Gwyn called.
Oliver's group moved on through the open doors. When all three
were inside, the doors swung shut with a loud clunk. The rules
118 | P a g e
precluded anyone from entering unless they completed an
assignment, and the rest of Oliver's comrades would face a trial of
their own. He'd just have to trust his cousins and wait.
"Welcome, Your Majesty," Karlie said, swinging round to face him,
arms outstretched, "to a place no second-years ever tread—the
labyrinth's fourth layer, the Library of the Depths."
Oliver swiveled his head; the view blew him away. A tower of
bookshelves stretching skyward as far as the eye could see.
Countless staircases ran this way and that across the void, and
winged demis flew between.
"…Harpies…"
"They're the books' caretakers. Not hired by Kimberly—they've been
living down here since before the labyrinth was even discovered.
They can be a little temperamental, but they'll also serve as guides.
When you come to return a book, you'll want to give it to them."
Karlie ran down the rules. Several harpies observed the trio, but they
didn't seem hostile. This place was not a library merely in name.
As the three moved forward, carefully looking things over, a blackrobed figure approached—the same type of being that had given
them their assigned reading. When Oliver looked tense, Karlie leaned
in.
"The things in black are the watchmen. Can you tell what they are?"
He felt the smirk in her voice. One figure passed, and he caught a
glimpse inside the robes; his hair stood on end. There was a scythe in
one hand and a skull with eyes of infinite blackness. A being he'd
only read about in books.
"Reapers…!"
119 | P a g e
"H-hilarious, r-right? Almost nowhere else can you still see d-death
seraphs. But here they are, on p-patrol." Robert stifled a hollow
laugh.
In the age of god, seraphs had been sent out into the world, playing
their part in the grand scheme. Reapers were but one type,
responsible for maintaining order over life and death. It was said
they still appeared if mages attempted to escape their mortality, but
few had ever seen them. Though some held this was because the
sight of a reaper ensured your death.
"Even we'd be sunk if we tried to fight them. Be on your best
behavior. If you follow the rules, they won't bug you."
"…What kinds of rules, exactly?"
"Don't damage the books, remove them without permission, return
them late, cause problems within the library itself, et cetera. The
Survivor tried to cook in here once and nearly got himself killed. A
real moron, that guy."
Karlie cackled. That definitely sounded like something Kevin Walker
would do.
"Every book in here is one of those forbidden tomes. The bulk of
them date from before the calendar began. To mages, a true
treasure trove, but a mistake here—and the books'll eat you. Don't
even dare treat this like an extension of the school's library."
Oliver nodded. He was certainly very interested, although reaching
for a book would likely be perilous at this point.
When she was sure he properly understood the threat, Karlie took
her broom off her back and hopped aboard.
"C'mon. Broom use isn't forbidden, but if you go too fast, it'll earn
you some nasty glares."
"A-are you good at l-low speeds? W-we could go tandem."
120 | P a g e
A generous offer, but Oliver shook his head, mounting his own
broom and taking off. He was certainly no match for Nanao's
maneuvering, but he'd had the basics drilled into him by now. He
certainly didn't need help flying slowly.
As he started to rise, he heard the doors close behind him. He spun
toward them.
"…Someone just left?"
"An upperclassman here before us. Don't worry, everyone hides
their faces here. Even if someone sees, no one will think we're out of
place."
Karlie seemed unperturbed. Oliver was less convinced, but he
followed her and Robert's lead.
Meanwhile, two layers up, a different trio were tackling the
labyrinth's giant tree.
"…! Hng…!"
Doing his best not to look down, Pete shimmied up the irminsul after
Guy. The broom on his back had a lifeline attached, and they'd
practiced casting deceleration spells in case they did fall, but that did
nothing for the sheer terror of being a good hundred and fifty feet
up. With his nonmagical background, Pete was especially terrified.
"Make it up here, and we can rest!" Guy called. "Think you can do it,
Pete?"
"Of—of course I can!" the bespectacled boy said, summoning every
ounce of tenacity he had. "This is…nothing…!"
He felt a hand on his back. Katie was bringing up the rear.
"Don't force it, Pete. Your legs are getting wobbly. Let's take a seat
for a minute."
121 | P a g e
Kind but firm. She and Guy had both spent more time down here
than Pete and were playing support and leadership roles,
respectively. When Pete still refused to rest, she quickly passed a
rope, tying it to a protrusion on the tree.
"See? You're secured and safe. Sit down."
"…Urgh…"
She'd done all the work for him, and he was forced to take a seat
next to her. While they caught their breath, Guy came back down. He
looked Pete over and made a face.
"Got tuckered out halfway, huh? I told you the third marker was far
enough for today."
"To hell with that," Pete insisted. "I'm not letting you get any further
ahead."
Guy shrugged. "You spend every day drowning in books and still
wanna keep up with us on labyrinth stuff? I applaud the
determination, but it's too much."
"It's nowhere near enough. I can't stay a liability," Pete hissed, biting
his lip.
Katie patted him on the back. "You don't want Oliver worrying about
you, huh? I know how that feels."
"I—I didn't say—"
"Sure, sure, you didn't," Guy teased. "And you'll get out of breath
again, so no more chatter."
Pete fell silent. Watching their surroundings closely, the group rested
for another five minutes, then resumed their climb. Struggling with
the steep slope, Pete grumbled, "Argh… If we could just use our
brooms, we'd be over this in no time…"
"I'd love to, but see those things up above?"
122 | P a g e
Guy pointed, and Pete looked up. There were a few dozen bird
wyverns wheeling overhead right above the three of them—hardly a
coincidence.
"They'll attack the moment we leave the ground. I tried taking the
easy route once, and it did not end well. Best to accept brooms here
are nothing but a lifeline for if you slip."
"If you balance properly, you can minimize the fatigue. That doesn't
come easy, but you'll get used to it in time."
Katie's voice from behind, Guy's from up ahead—being flanked like
this was definitely reassuring, but it also drove home how much Pete
still had to learn. He didn't want to lag behind the two of them.
"The last part's extra steep. Hang on, I'll lower a rope."
Guy scrambled up the tricky section and got a rope secured. Pete had
been using both hands to hang onto the tree, so he willingly
switched to the rope—it was best to keep your dominant hand free
in case of magical beast attacks.
"Better make it quick. Linger here, and they'll think you're
vulnerable."
Taking Guy's advice to heart, the other two pressed on—and Katie
saw a shadow closing in behind the tall boy.
"…?! Guy, behind you! Look out!"
"Huh?"
Guy spun around and found a demon ape's arm swinging right at
him. He reflexively reached for his athame, but before he could
defend himself, the blow knocked him sideways. He was flung off the
tree into the air.
"Guy!" Pete yelled—and Guy's fall stopped.
123 | P a g e
Sensing its partner in trouble, his broom had taken flight, and the
lifeline had left Guy dangling in the air. But that was still very
exposed. And the hit had shaken him up enough he wasn't thinking
straight yet.
"…Uh… Ah…?"
"Guy, move! The wyverns…!" Katie yelled.
That snapped him out of it. His left hand closed on the broom
handle—and the bird wyverns swooped down toward him.
"Ah—ahhhhh!"
Their attack hit before he could reach the tree again. He managed to
free his athame and fight back. Katie and Pete covered him as best
they could from the tree but weren't able to deflect all the wyvern
strikes. One of the bird wyverns slipped through the spells and
knocked the athame out of Guy's hand, and the next one bit the rope
stretched between him and his broom.
"Ah—"
The rope snapped, and Guy dropped, no safety measures left. As he
fell, he tried to grab his white wand, but his fingers weren't moving
right. The athame loss had left him with a gouged tendon. Katie and
Pete couldn't get to him in time. He hurtled straight toward the
ground—
"Elletardus."
A force caught him, powerful enough for it to hurt. His descent
slowed until he was hovering just above the ground, and an arm
wrapped around his chest. Oliver's catches were a gentle embrace,
and this was far rougher—yet that drove home the fact that he was
alive.
"Gah-ha! Been a while since I caught a plummeter! I just happened
to be right under you—you got good luck, kid."
124 | P a g e
A hearty laugh echoed in Guy's ears. Pete and Katie caught up on
their brooms, landing by their friend and his savior before running
over.
"Guy, are you okay…?"
"Any injuries?!"
"Mm, a trio of second-years? That's pushing it. You oughta bring an
upperclassman with you."
The burly older boy put Guy down, looking at each person in turn.
Katie and Pete weren't listening—they had their athames pointed
skyward. Their friend had survived his fall, but those bird wyverns
were still hot on his heels.
"Dumb birds! Gotta teach them a lesson. Gah-ha!"
Spotting them, the upperclassman pulled his athame, raising it high.
The blade had a look of scorched steel, and it was soon aglow with
magic.
"Turbo Flamma!"
A burning tornado shot out of his blade, spreading rapidly outward
and swallowing up eight wyverns in a single shot. The force of the
winds trapped them all inside even as it burned them alive. They
were suspended like that for just over ten seconds, then their bodies
hit the ground, not a one of them still breathing.
"Gah-ha! Got ourselves a cookout! I was just getting hungry!"
The young man headed toward the nearest bird wyvern corpse, put
his athame at the base of the leg, and started carving away. Then he
noticed the trio's stares.
"Want some?" he asked. "The thighs are pretty good!"
"…Er, um…" Katie and Pete both looked flummoxed, so the young
man took a big bite.
125 | P a g e
Guy was already reaching into his robe, pulling out a salt shaker.
"…I got seasonings," he offered.
"Oh! Aren't you handy? Gah-ha-ha! Have a seat!"
"Huhhh?!"
They soon recovered Guy's athame and settled down, talking to their
older savior. Once he'd heard their names and what had happened,
he introduced himself.
"Clifton Morgan, sixth-year. Training to catch up with your friend? I
get that!"
He folded his arms, looking them over.
"I admire the spirit, but it's real risky," he told them, his expression
severe. "If I hadn't been passing by, that fall could've killed you."
"…I got no excuses," Guy said, well aware of his blunders.
Pete was looking even more downcast. Guy had been exposed
precisely because his attention had been on helping his friend.
"Gah-ha-ha! Been through similar stuff myself, many a time. No way
you can get by in this school tapping every bridge before you cross
it," Morgan said with a laugh. "Nothing wrong with a dangerous
bridge or two. What you need to learn is how to get across without
dying. Don't rush for results. Rely on your elders another few
months. Watch what they do and copy it. That'll make things come
naturally."
He ended the lecture there, sprinkling Guy's herb-and-salt blend on
the bird wyvern meat. He seemed to be enjoying it despite the
haphazard preparation. He chewed a couple of times and swallowed,
then shot the trio another grin.
126 | P a g e
"Can't remember the last time I talked to any second-years!
Underclassmen almost never go lower than the third layer. I like this
floor! It's teeming with life—"
He glanced around him. He sure made it sound like he lived down
here. But before they could ask about that, Morgan clutched his
chest.
"Cough, cough!"
As he spluttered, flames belched out of his mouth. They flinched
back.
"Whoa…!"
"A-are you all right?! You're breathing fire!"
Even mages were only human—they weren't usually capable of this.
Well aware of their shocked looks, Morgan coughed up a few more
flames before his fit subsided.
"…All better. Sorry, bit of a shocker, huh?"
He shot them a rueful smile. A few seconds of silence passed as
everyone stared at him.
"No, this is a trailblazer's duty, I guess," he said, reconsidering. "I'm
actually not gonna get better. Don't have much time left."
Everyone gulped.
"This is the result of crossing one of those dangerous bridges," he
said, his hand on his chest. "This inferno's a real ravager. Gah-ha! I
was pretty sure I could control it, but no such luck."
Chuckling, he pulled his white wand, and a flame appeared at the tip.
Primarily orange, it had tinges of green and brown mixed in—highly
distinctive. Their eyes locked on it, watching as it branched and
swayed.
127 | P a g e
"Don't you dare touch it. It'll do a lot more than burn ya. What I'm
working with isn't a fire of this world. If you're second-years, you've
started astronomy by now, right?"
They were almost afraid to admit it. Morgan's explanation built upon
that basic knowledge.
"One of the tír that connects up to ours regularly is called Luftmarz.
The Ravaging Inferno's Kiln. It's a world where fire flows in place of
water. I could bend your ear all day about that environment's
peculiarities, but the most singular of them is that the fire itself is
evolving. They have multiple types of fire elementals alone," he said.
"That suggests this is a world that never had many elements. Where
our world is dominated by other types, theirs filled the gaps with a
variety of fires. And the ecosystem is built on that. When migrations
occur…well, you've heard how the phoenix lives within the flames
consuming it?"
He paused there, hand on his chest again.
"I got interested in the nature of those flames. Can't exactly tell you
what I did, but… Well, this is the result. Couldn't control it, and it's
ravaging me from the inside."
"…You…can't get it out?" Guy asked.
"Afraid there's no treatment. It's fused with my etheric body now.
No modern magic techniques can help. And that means I won't live
out the year."
Guy was out of ideas, and the man cleaned the last of the meat off
the bone.
"So there you have it! The pursuit of sorcery sometimes results in
failures you can't walk back. But if you let that scare you, you'll get
no results worth having… Cough, cough!"
128 | P a g e
Morgan coughed again, belching flames. When they just watched,
speechless, he flashed a big grin.
"Come now, don't look so gloomy! You're all mages, right? Failures
have their upsides. The data I leave will guide research to come. And
they'll be able to avoid stepping in the same shit I did. I may have a
date with death, but it's one of the best deaths a mage can have!
And I get to have a nice long chat with a few lucky underclassmen!
Gah-ha-ha!"
He laughed hard at his own joke. This was clearly neither a brave
face nor an empty platitude. And that made them feel a little better.
At the same time, it was a harsh reminder—research could lead to
failure, and that failure to death. And that was hardly unusual at
Kimberly.
Seeing them all facing reality in their own way, Morgan's smile faded.
"Given my condition, I can't exactly go back to school. But there is
one thing preying on my mind. I'd appreciate anything you know," he
said solemnly before asking: "How's the Blue Swallows' ace doing?"
"That turn was weak!"
The shout cracked like a lightning bolt.
Nanao had been turning her broom at the edge of the practice
arena; Ashbury had spied her opening and jumped on it, her club
taking a vicious sideways swipe that the Azian girl just barely
managed to block and withstand.
"You're better than that, Ms. Hibiya!" the Blue Swallows' ace roared.
"Both you and that broom!"
"Naturally!"
Nanao's response was just as loud, and her broom shot off, the two
clashing in the air once again. No one else on the field, no matter the
team, dared try to get between those clubs.
129 | P a g e
"…Yiiikes, is this even a practice match any more?"
"She's got her eyes on Nanao, poor thing… Granted, Nanao does
seem to be having fun?"
The speakers were both on the Wild Geese. One of them took his
eyes off the clashing clubs—and spotted something far more
alarming. His body went stiff as a board, and he barely managed to
croak a warning to the teammate flying with him.
"…Y-yo, look…"
"? What—? Whoa."
Said teammate reacted exactly the same way, and that reaction
spread through the players around them.
"Well, Emmy? Nanao's flying is something else, isn't it?"
"..."
Two figures stood in the observation space outside the practice
arena. One was a dapper gentleman with rich golden ringlets—
Theodore McFarlane. The other was a silver-haired witch, a
personification of frozen steel—the headmistress of Kimberly,
Esmeralda.
"Oh, don't mind us!" Theodore called, realizing there were eyes on
them. "We're just watching, so carry on like normal."
That got things moving again, but…clearly not at anything like peak
performance. He shook his ringlets.
"I supposed that's a bit of an ask, really. 'Normal'…with you
watching!"
Their headmistress attending practice was virtually unprecedented.
He could hardly blame the athletes for stressing over it.
"But I suppose there are exceptions…"
130 | P a g e
Two, to be precise. Nanao and Ashbury's battle raged on, the pair
oblivious to their teachers' presence—and the Kimberly witch's eyes
never left them.
Practice lasted another half hour. When the whistles blew for break,
Theodore spied his chance, his voice echoing through the skies.
"Well done, Nanao! I hate to rob you of your rest, but mind joining
us?"
"Mm? Oh, Lord McFarlane!"
Clearly only now realizing he was here, Nanao dropped to ground
level. Seeing the witch at his side, the Azian girl smiled.
"Unusual company you keep today," she said.
"Emmy doesn't make a habit of attending practice. But she's always
loved broomsports. She had real passion for them in her student
days."
"Oh? I was not aware!"
Nanao hopped off her broom, approaching the two teachers.
Ashbury came in for a landing behind her, giving the headmistress a
curious look.
"Fancy seeing you here," she said. "Scoping out the rookie,
Headmistress? Or her broom?"
She didn't hesitate to pry. But her question earned her an indifferent
glance and words that cut her and her question down.
"You've gotten slow, Ashbury."
The air froze around them. After several seconds of silence, Ashbury
managed shakily, "…Say that again?"
"You were faster a year ago. You've grown better…but that's all,"
Esmeralda growled. "Are you scared to fly without your usual
catcher?"
131 | P a g e
A merciless pile on that left the arena feeling as hostile as the scrape
of metal on metal. Their teammates above gulped. But no matter
how the Blue Swallows' ace scowled, Kimberly's top witch just kept
going right for the source of her pride.
"You haven't set a new personal best in a while. If you've reached
your limit and are content to train your successors, then so be it.
Take a step back and be a typical broomrider."
"Typical?!"
Ashbury's howl refuted the very concept. She'd have drawn her
blade if this wasn't a teacher—nay, if it wasn't the headmistress.
Seeing the rage in her eyes, Theodore clapped his hands.
"Now, now, calm yourself, Ms. Ashbury," he said blithely. "Her words
may be harsh, but that's her way of encouraging. You know you can
fly faster. And that's all she wants to say."
132 | P a g e
133 | P a g e
This might sound like an olive branch, but it failed to lighten the
mood in the slightest. Basking in the light of Ashbury's fury, the
headmistress spoke again.
"Seems you haven't entirely lost your moxie. I will reserve my
disappointment for another day."
"…!"
Without results, no argument could carry any weight. Realizing that,
Ashbury turned her broom and rocketed off toward the skies above.
A few teammates called after her, but she ignored them, leaving the
arena behind. Nanao watched her go, arms folded.
"Hmm. A brutal form of encouragement."
"We wouldn't put you on the spot like that, Nanao," Theodore said,
patting her on the head. "Ms. Ashbury's position is rather
exceptional. She's a purebred broomrider."
He turned his smile to her.
"More importantly, do you have time to talk? We'll let you go when
your break's over."
Nanao looked at each of the teachers in turn, then smiled, nodding.
"The honor is all mine," she said.
On the grass not far from the arena was a spot perfect for tea
parties. Theodore was laying out a tea set on a table made from
toolplants.
"This is green tea, commonly consumed in Yamatsu. I was told to
brew it with water well below a boil—is this right?"
His spell heated the water in no time, and he poured it into a
Yamatsu-made pot, let it steep for a minute, then filled each of their
cups. Nanao took a sip of the steaming green liquid, and her eyes lit
up.
134 | P a g e
"Ah! It has been far too long."
The taste of home soothed Nanao, and she turned to the silent witch
beside her.
"We have yet to exchange words since the entrance ceremony,
Headmistress."
"..."
Esmeralda remained impassive. Nanao took in her face a few
moments longer.
"Your headaches have not subsided, then?" she said. "It seems the
trick I told you was not enough."
Theodore had been laying out sweets and looked up at this,
surprised.
"You can tell?" he asked.
"Theodore."
The witch spoke his name like a hammer on a nail, but he shook her
off.
"She already knows," he said. "Nanao, Emmy's headaches have a
rather unusual cause. Simple cures will not help. I'm sure she
appreciates the thought."
He left it at that, and Nanao did not pursue the topic further. She
took another sip of tea, clearly possessed of no motives beyond
concern for the witch's well-being. Pleased by that, Theodore smiled.
"Emmy, you should say something," he urged. "You have much to
ask."
It took her a moment, but at length, the witch of Kimberly broke her
silence.
"…How's your broom?"
135 | P a g e
"In tip-top shape," Nanao said, glancing at the broom resting beside
her. "Amatsukaze has your interest?"
Theodore was using his wand to place plates laden with sweets
before each of them.
"More than a little," he said. "It's the only broom in the school—
perhaps the world—that would not obey Emmy. And yet, you've
made it yours, Nanao."
"Have I? I do my utmost to bring out the broom's power, but I
remain no match for Ashbury."
There was a frown on her face. Everyone at Kimberly recognized
Nanao's singular talents, but the task before her was a tall one.
"She said a broom was a part of her, like an extra limb. I knew people
back home who felt the same about their horses. Yet, I simply cannot
conceive of it that way. This broom is my partner. I have no intention
of placing it under my control."
Nanao stroked Amatsukaze's handle.
"…Perhaps that's why," Esmeralda murmured.
"Mm?" Nanao blinked at her.
Catching the headmistress's intent, Theodore explained, "The reason
your broom—Amatsukaze—accepted you as its rider. Thinking back,
she—the previous rider—said much the same thing. 'It has more fun
flying with me than anyone else. That's why it lets me ride it and will
take me anywhere.'"
Clearly a fond memory for him. And when his eyes turned back to
Nanao, there was a mix of aspiration and envy in them. Like gazing at
the twinkle of a star he could never hope to reach.
"Most mages see brooms as little more than familiars. That goes for
Ms. Ashbury and for Emmy, too. But you're different. And perhaps
136 | P a g e
that's why Amatsukaze chose you. Not as its master—but as its
partner."
"..."
Esmeralda voiced no objections to his interpretation. Nanao took this
to mean Amatsukaze's previous rider meant a great deal to both of
them.
"Very well. Then I shall strive to be a suitable partner," she declared,
a smile on her face once more.
With her current riding skills, this was the most she could promise.
When Theodore nodded, Nanao held out her empty cup.
"Lord McFarlane, may I trouble you for another cup?"
"Mm? Oh, but of course."
He pointed his wand at the cup, but as he did, Nanao added
something he did not expect.
"The headmistress first, if you would. She seems to want another
herself."
Theodore glanced Esmeralda's way—and indeed, her cup had
somehow grown empty. He looked rather shocked. Experience had
told him that she would never take so much as a sip if she did not
intend to speak further.
"…Right you are. My apologies, Emmy. I should have noticed."
"..."
He received only silence in response, and her expression had not
once shifted this entire time. But Theodore was certain—she was
enjoying this.
He shot Nanao a look of gratitude, and then a thought struck him.
"If I could ask one thing, Nanao—are you not afraid? Of her?"
137 | P a g e
Nanao looked baffled. "? The thought has not once crossed my mind.
Though she is certainly intimidating."
Most people would consider fear and intimidation to be two sides of
the same coin, but clearly Nanao saw them as entirely separate.
Theodore slapped his knee, laughing. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Excellent.
That is exactly how you should be, Nanao!"
He happily refilled both their cups, praying this precious moment
would linger a while longer.
Oliver's group rode their brooms around the Library of the Depths
for some thirty minutes before the door opened and Gwyn's group
entered. They flew down to meet them.
"That took a while. Rough one?" Karlie asked.
"Assignment was a poor match for us," Gwyn said. "No injuries
sustained."
He, Shannon, and Teresa looked none the worse for wear. Oliver
kept his relief to himself.
"Cool. We did the basic library rundown, so should we head on out?"
Karlie took the lead again, and they passed through the doors at the
far end, leaving the library behind. Outside, they were bathed in
sunlight. Like the second layer, it was illuminated by an artificial sun,
the ground blanketed in well-maintained flowerbeds. The last thing
Oliver had expected to see here.
"…A park?"
"More of a garden, really. Like the harpies inside, the gnomes look
after it."
Karlie had taken a few steps forward, and now she swung back
toward them, arms outstretched.
138 | P a g e
"This place is a perk for any mages who can make it this far. They got
everything from herbs to mushrooms; whatever ingredients you
need to brew your potions. With gnomes looking after it, you know
the quality's guaranteed. Course, if you harvest too many, the
reapers come after you."
Oliver nodded. This clarified some things. When they'd been
searching for Pete on the third layer, Miligan had suggested Ophelia
might be gathering materials on a floor below—and she'd likely
meant this garden. Anyone who made regular use of this area
needed the proper strength to reliably clear the prerequisite
assignments, which was why Miligan had deemed it still too
dangerous as a fourth-year.
Looking around the garden, Oliver frowned. "I don't see any
gnomes," he said.
"They're pretty timid. They hide when we show up. We won't
eatcha!"
Karlie cackled, and Oliver's eyes found gardening tools abandoned
here and there. A few minutes before, gnomes had been at work in
the garden, and the group's arrival had forced them all to take cover
behind the foliage. He felt a pang of guilt.
"You'll need a proper tour of the place, but that can wait till the
return trip. We're on a mission, so let's hit our destination first."
Karlie clearly knew her way around the place and moved swiftly
ahead. The garden wrapped all around the library tower and was
pretty large, so it was a solid twenty minutes before the greenery
gave way to a large tunnel some fifty yards in diameter. The crosssection was a perfect geometric circle (thus, it was clearly no cave)
and the walls themselves were coated in something very smooth.
139 | P a g e
"This is one of the passages to the fifth layer, commonly known as
the helicoid halls. It's just one of twenty. Each of the halls connect to
a different point on the fifth layer."
Following her, they stepped carefully inside. A strong gust of wind
ruffled Oliver's hair. Ahead, the tunnel curved, and he couldn't see
the end—as the name suggested, it was a long and winding spiral.
"If we're h-hitting…Enrico—th-this is the pl-place."
"The reason being?" Oliver pressed.
"First," Karlie said, "less foot traffic than the second layer. We don't
want any surprises dropping in, so anything on the higher floors is
out. Third layer could go either way, but the terrain sucks, and
there's too much aggressive wildlife. If we wanna rule out flukes,
tough to call the marsh a good choice.
"So we use the fourth layer's barrier to our advantage. Only mages
with the skills to pass the assignments can even get here, which
means much less chance of anyone passing through than up above.
And most people who do come here are after the books. Unless you
got a real good reason to dive further, you don't hit the tunnels."
He nodded. It all made sense. The battle before them was going to
be fraught enough as is, and any and all precautions against a third
party jumping in were well advised.
"Naturally, there are students who dive to the fifth floor and
beyond," Gwyn added. "But they won't be using Hall Eleven here. It
leads somewhere extra perilous. The only people unhinged enough
to use it are a handful of teachers…"
"…And one of those is Enrico Forghieri?" Oliver said, increasingly
convinced. These conditions sounded highly favorable.
"Exactly. And all this is only half the reason," Karlie replied.
When Oliver looked surprised, Robert took over.
140 | P a g e
"T-try using a barrier spell. Aim it at the f-floor. D-don't hold back."
"…?"
Puzzled, Oliver drew his athame and aimed it down.
"Clypeus!"
The spell's light hit the floor…but seconds passed, and no barrier
formed. Oliver's frown deepened.
"…We can't alter it?"
"That's right," Karlie said. "The fourth layer is highly neutral, which
means the terrain here is extremely resistant to magical
interference. Even on other floors, if you smash a wall down, it fixes
itself, right? Basically just an extra strong version of that. Labyrinth
homeostasis."
Oliver experimented with a few more spells, but the results were
always the same. No matter the element, spells cast here vanished
uselessly into the terrain.
"And then there's the reapers. They patrol the library heavily,
keeping the valuable books safe. But the helicoid halls are out of
bounds. They maintain homeostasis, but we can go buck wild, and
the reapers won't show. Best of both worlds." Karlie grinned.
Oliver nodded, and Karlie looked further down the tunnel.
"Point is, it's nigh impossible to mess with the terrain magically.
Given our objective, can you see why we'd want that?"
"Golem interference," Oliver said. Not a difficult conclusion to reach.
"Yep!" Karlie said, beaming at him. "You've tried chasing Enrico
around down here before, so you know how bad it gets. We hit him
anywhere else, no telling what golems or magic traps'll come at us.
That happens, the fight'll just be pure chaos. And we either wear
141 | P a g e
ourselves out and end up obliterated or get bogged down long
enough for him to escape—either way, it won't end well."
"…I've been wondering about that for a while. How does Enrico have
so many golems and traps ready and waiting?"
"I'm afraid n-nobody knows. W-we've tried tailing and s-scouting but
to no avail. But it's m-more than just the first l-layer. They s-swarm
out on the second and third, too."
Robert's frustration was clear. They'd spent a year trying to figure it
out and learned only that their opponent was not to be trifled with.
"B-but we can guess. We s-suspect there's a g-golem that plants
other golems. We h-have s-several theories about how that works
but…he c-can't use it here. The fourth layer's homeostasis is t-too
strong."
Robert seemed sure of that, at least, and Oliver took him at his word,
nodding. They might not know everything, but what they did know
was enough to dull their target's advantage. And that was why
they'd chosen the helicoid halls.
"We'll still have to fight Enrico Forghieri himself and however many
small or medium golems he has on him. But fighting here limits him
to that," said Karlie. "Meanwhile, our side has thirty-two committed
to the attempt. We go all out, we've got a viable shot."
Enrico Forghieri was a builder. His threat level was concentrated in
the golems the man himself designed and constructed. This was a big
part of why they were hitting him before the other five targets. If
they could peel him away from his golems, fighting only the man
himself, then in theory, he'd be one of the easier opponents.
But Oliver was very aware that theory was but a small comfort. There
was no chance of starting within the spellblade's range, as he had
with Darius. With one Kimberly instructor already taken out, the rest
142 | P a g e
would be on guard against a spellblade. And Enrico himself was
hardly a close-range fighter.
And the nature of Oliver's spellblade meant he couldn't hide his
intentions until the last possible second. It required extreme
concentration, and to activate it at all, he had to be in combat mode,
both mentally and physically. His hostility would be more than
evident. That was one reason why he'd gone after Darius head-on,
baiting him into a duel.
But for all the reasons mentioned, a duel would not be possible this
time around. Like Karlie said, victory was only achievable with the full
support of his comrades. Armed with that conclusion, he asked,
"How long is this hall?"
"Just over seven miles," Karlie answered. "Even at top broomspeed,
you can't get through it fast. The tunnels also serve as safety valves,
preventing the real nasty customers from wandering up from down
below. If we're hitting him, we'd do it somewhere in the middle."
"And it never branches?"
"Not even once. Can't even make one because of the homeostasis.
Even if he could, it'd be faster to just kill us all."
Oliver could think of nothing else to ask. He took a few deep breaths.
Decision time. With all the advantages this provided, any further
hesitation would just be cowardice.
"Very well. We hit the mad old man here."
Even as he said it, a shiver ran down his spine. Fear, tension—and a
dark glee that overshadowed those apprehensions.