Chapter 115

Thump. Thump.

A pounding heartbeat layered itself over the throbbing ache behind his eyes.

Reality closed in from beyond the haze of consciousness, swelling fast—like a rising tide flooding the shore.

Mikhail trembled.

The collision between the party members that his actions had erased kept circling through his head, while the memory from his former world refused to peel away from the scene that had just played out.

[But if we suddenly mess with the flow, the characters are going to feel off.]

—Head for the rib section on the right side of the remains! That's our best position!

[Force the situation and the characters stop feeling natural. They just become paper dolls getting dragged around by whatever the plot needs them to do.]

—Snap out of it! You're going to let them overtake us?

—Everyone, get into position. Prepare to unload everything you've got—one last push.

[And that disconnect… it ends up hurting the whole story.]

—Right. You basically eliminated a pointless war of attrition for us. So keep it coming, yeah?

Mikhail bit down hard on his lip.

No. No, that's not it. I didn't do it because I wanted to. I had no choice. I was just… trying to prevent an unexpected variable from—

"Mikhail. You—"

…Out of nowhere.

The protagonist's voice cut through like an accusation.

"—!"

The one reaching toward him was Ethan.

But the hand that had extended with concern never made contact—it froze in midair when Mikhail flinched backward as if scalded, his entire body going rigid.

"……"

Silence fell between them. Startled breaths traded back and forth across the stillness before Ethan's hand slowly dropped.

"Ah…"

Mikhail moved after a beat of quiet.

He raised a hand, dragged it down his face, and steadied the tremor running through his body. His lips parted once, and when he spoke, his voice came out carefully composed.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Really? You're sure you're okay?"

Lloyd leaned forward as he asked. Mikhail shifted his gaze to meet Lloyd's and nodded.

"Yeah. But I don't think I can keep calling the shots like before. The fatigue's catching up to me."

A chorus of voices broke out from the group around him.

"Yeah, totally! You worked so hard this round. Hang back and take it easy. Don't push yourself."

"For real. We'll figure out the strategy this time. Focus on getting your strength back and don't stress about us."

"But… could you maybe jot down a few things you know? Just a little?"

"Dian."

While scolding and whining bounced back and forth, Mikhail turned his head and fixed his gaze across the fire.

"……"

Ethan wore an expression that was hard to read.

But it vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by his usual quiet composure as he turned to watch the campfire—its red body warping and throwing off erratic sparks.

---

Crack. Pop.

Embers leapt into the air alongside a voice that carried across the area.

"All right, everyone! Hate to interrupt your rest, but a quick announcement! You should each have a crate set up in front of your camp by now. Whatever you do, do not touch it—!"

The hour was up before anyone was ready for it. A voice announcing the next phase sliced through the air.

"Hope everyone got some good rest! The second stage of Round One is about to begin! Get yourselves ready!"

Mikhail rose from where he'd been sitting and kicked dirt over the dying campfire.

The time alone during the break had let him settle his thoughts, and the tangle in his head had more or less sorted itself out.

Regardless of what I'm feeling, I have no intention of abandoning the main storyline's progression.

What he carried in his head was the answer key. A roadmap he'd been following with the certainty that it led to a future everyone could be satisfied with.

Then wasn't it only right to keep following it? And the truth was, he'd accomplished plenty by moving in step with the original progression.

He'd chosen the optimal paths and rewritten a future that should have seen him eliminated before he ever found his footing.

[Notice: Stat update complete. Character's academic status has been changed to [Enrolled Student].]

He'd guided Ethan's growth to a point where taking on the world's greatest threats was well within reach.

["When you said the sword would get better… this is what you meant?"]

And whenever a crisis blindsided him, he'd handled every single one.

[Notice: The death scenario assigned to [Character: Mikhail Senit] asserts compulsory force and intervenes in the main storyline.]

On top of that, he'd been building the means to weather what lay ahead. Starting with rallying key allies to his side, all the way to his plan to awaken the power dormant in his body and have Joseph cede direct authority to him.

[Yet in the new world that had been building toward peace, the Senit seat—the guardians of the North—had grown faint.]

With the strength and legitimacy he was forging, he'd be equipped to face both his rivals and the true enemy.

FLASH!

[Quest: [Main] Complete the Campaign — Round 1]

• Completion Reward: Shop Currency +3

Mikhail glanced at the system message and tightened his grip on the staff.

So I'll maintain the original flow. I know what it brings. I understand it's the best outcome for everyone.

His eyes swept over Ethan's group gathered around him.

Ethan, sheathing his sword and watching his companions with quiet attention. Lloyd's profile as he bumped fists with the others, a bright grin on his face.

I'll be the path that leads to your future.

Every formation was locking into position when the announcer's voice boomed across the plains.

"Looks like everyone's ready! Excellent! Now then—please take ten steps back from the crate in front of your camp! And don't forget to keep a tight grip on your weapons!"

Mikhail backed away from the crate ahead of him.

Around him, his teammates threw suspicious glances at the crate but followed the instructions and retreated all the same.

"10! …9… 8… 7."

The instant the countdown began, the crate lurched violently. Formulas blazed across its surface, and a pulse of energy fired straight into the ground.

KRRRMMMMMM…!

The earth beneath their feet shuddered.

Cries of shock and confusion erupted from every direction. Mikhail kept his eyes locked forward.

If the main storyline held, the enemy about to appear would not be a pleasant sight.

SKRRRRCH!

Earthworms burst through the soil, tearing the ground open as they surged upward.

Medium-sized arthropods that inhabited the grasslands—the kind that overturned passing carriages and caused property damage and casualties. Their bodies stretched as long as six or seven adults laid end to end, lined with dozens of legs, and their centipede-like frames were sheathed in hardened exoskeletons.

Creatures that demanded serious firepower to bring down.

"The second stage of Round One is an extermination contest! The earthworms in front of each camp will weaken over time thanks to embedded magic tools, but the team that takes theirs down fastest earns the biggest score! First place gets a whopping 400 points! More than enough to spark a comeback!"

GRRRRRRRR—

Mikhail watched the earthworm drip corrosive fluid from its ring-shaped maw and ran through the progression in his head.

According to the original storyline, Salvator placed third in this stage.

The protagonist's party assessed the situation and chose to conserve their strength for the battles ahead. So this time should be no different.

As long as he had no reason to create a deviation, following the original progression was the better call.

"—Unlike the previous stage, wide-area attacks are permitted for this one! Will you go for a quick kill? Or bide your time and wait for the right moment? Show us your best judgment as you take these earthworms dow—!"

KA-THOOOOOM!

The announcer hadn't even finished. An explosion rocked the earth and split the air.

A scenario that had never once appeared in the original.

Mikhail felt the warmth drain from his body at the unexpected turn and whipped his head toward the source of the blast.

"Oh… oh my. Well, then… before I could even finish speaking… it seems something drastic has happened."

What he saw was Verte, standing triumphant amid the shredded remains of an earthworm torn apart like tissue paper. Support spells cast by his teammates draped over him like wings as he turned to face Mikhail.

An expression of pure, condescending superiority.

Beneath the pale lavender hair streaming like a banner in the wind, a mocking grin split wide across his face.

"…This time, I won't even give you the chance to adapt."

Verte's mist-colored eyes glinted, the hostility within them shining through with crystalline clarity.

Right… you were the variable all along.

Mikhail glared at Verte's face, every edge sharp.

Then, with a bitter clench of his jaw, he tore his gaze away and looked toward the earthworm looming in front of Ethan's group.

The target he'd need to watch and mark from the second round onward had just made itself abundantly clear.

FLASH!

Mikhail channeled mana onto the staff.

Light flared, and mana carrying the properties of water surged from the staff's tip.

"—Incredible! The Allied Knight Order takes second by coordinating simultaneous strikes between the joints of the exoskeleton to cause massive hemorrhaging! And Salvator clinches third with a combination of binding magic and coordinated slashes from the rest of the team! Under this relentless barrage, the earthworms are slamming face-first into the dirt one after another!"

Far behind the battlefield where the campaign raged.

Germain Lowell, positioned alongside the commentary team, stroked his beard as he watched the earthworms topple.

The level of the campaign's participants had been climbing every year, sure—but this year's was more riveting than any he'd seen.

Better still, the action was unfolding within the established rules and without a single serious injury. That suited him just fine.

"Hmm."

Germain watched the last earthworm crash to the ground, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his communication stone.

He channeled mana into the polished formula etched on its surface and brought it to his mouth.

"Hey, recon team! How's the situation at the Round 2 and Round 3 zones? Everything clear out there?"

Tssszzzt—

"Recon team? Everything clear?"

Tssszzzzzzt—

Nothing but static from the other end.

A discordant hiss that dragged on far longer than any normal standby period.

"…Hm? Is this thing broken?"

Germain clicked his tongue and was glancing around for a replacement when a voice—choppy and broken—crackled through the stone in his hand.

"Yes! This is the Round 2 zone recon team…. No issues what…soev… Actually, why did this suddenly… oh, it's back?"

Germain pressed in immediately.

"Oh, there you are. Everything all right over there? You're receiving me clearly?"

"Ah, yes sir! All clear now! Round 2 zone recon team—no issues detected in any direction!"

"Round 3 zone recon team here. All clear on our end as well!"

The voices on the other side came through sharp and steady now, with no trace of the earlier disruption.

Germain relaxed, commended the recon teams for their hard work over the stone, and cut the connection.

Click.

---

Above the plains, where only a tranquil stillness now settled.

The participants, fresh from the intensity of battle, stowed their weapons and caught their breath.

Germain swept the area with the wide, circling gaze of an eagle surveying its territory, then raised his whistle to his lips and blew.

TWEEEEEEEE—!

The sound marking the end of Round One rang out across the plains.