Chapter 47

An hour or two passed after that.

The special class had ended right after the evaluations wrapped up. Mikhail dragged Julien along to the request registration office.

[Free Mission Participation and Group Application Form]

They stood at a table tucked into the corner of the office. Mikhail picked up a pen and began filling out the application.

"Hey, by the way. Mikhail."

The scratch of pen on paper had been the only sound when Julien, filling out his own form beside him, spoke up casually.

"I was seriously, seriously shocked. I had no idea you'd blow a hole clean through that dummy."

"......"

"And I wasn't the only one, apparently. The whole place went dead quiet all at once. Up until then, everyone wouldn't shut up."

A thin note of admiration colored his voice.

Mikhail rolled his eyes toward Julien and replied in a flat tone.

"Nearly made things annoying for me, too."

"Oh, come on, 'annoying.' Your classmates would be hurt if they heard that."

Julien laughed, deflating like a punctured balloon. His pen hand slowed at the same time.

His eyes, fixed on the page, drifted upward to stare into the empty air.

"That aside, I'm worried. You're incredible, and I'm... absolutely terrible. You saw, right? My ranking's way faster to count from the bottom. ...Though I don't think I was dead last before."

Mikhail didn't answer.

Instead, his gaze dropped from Julien's profile to his left hand, clenched around the application form.

"That aside—does it hurt?"

"Huh?"

Julien startled and turned his head. Mikhail gestured toward Julien's left fingertips with a tilt of his chin.

"You're injured."

Where Mikhail pointed, a deep gouge marked the skin.

Julien's face flashed with an oh no look as his eyes darted between Mikhail and the wound. He quietly slipped his left hand behind his back.

"Oh... it's fine. I was so out of it I didn't even notice."

Julien smiled weakly and lowered his gaze back to the application in front of him.

Mikhail watched him for a long moment but didn't press further.

He simply turned his own eyes back to the page and finished filling out his form.

[Applicant Confirmed: Mikhail Senit.]

It didn't take long to review what was written and fill in the blanks.

Mikhail signed the bottom of the application and set down his pen.

Click.

Before long, Julien finished too.

He picked up his completed form and snuck a sideways glance at Mikhail.

Their eyes met.

Julien flinched, his shoulders twitching—but he soon rubbed the back of his neck and smiled that wilting smile of his.

"Um, actually... about earlier. I thought you were going to ditch me. By the time class was ending, everyone was looking for a chance to talk to you."

"......"

"Honestly... getting into a good team and scoring high is better by every measure. And on top of that, our families are..."

That was when a sharp sigh cut him off mid-sentence.

Julien fell silent, startled. Mikhail narrowed his eyes with a look of plain displeasure and leaned toward him.

"Do I look like the kind of person who'd go back on a promise?"

"...Huh?"

Julien flinched, echoing the question in a dazed voice.

Then his expression shifted in an instant. Panic flooded his face and he waved his hands frantically.

"N-no...! That's not what I meant...!"

"And I don't think for a second that bad blood between the previous generation needs to carry over to us."

The clarity in his voice made Julien freeze. Mikhail continued without missing a beat.

"If anything, I'd rather turn it into something positive. With anomalies cropping up left and right, a pointless war of attrition benefits no one on either side..."

Mikhail finished and looked at Julien standing in front of him.

Julien stood rooted in place, perfectly still.

Only his violet eyes, fixed straight ahead, trembled with surprise and bewilderment.

Mikhail spared a brief glance at the scratches on Julien's fingertips, then smiled.

"So—I'd like us to be friends. You and me."

Mikhail straightened up and held out his hand, casual as anything.

"Hand it over. I'll go register us together."

Julien stared at him with an expression that said none of this felt real.

Then his gaze dropped to the hand extended toward him. He stared at it blankly before stumbling back a step with that oh no look on his face again. He rubbed the back of his neck and broke into a wide grin.

"Ahaha! Man, this is... now I'm the one who's embarrassed! I was being so childish compared to you. Forget everything I just said! I want to be friends too—yeah, definitely!"

Julien thrust his application forward with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Rustle.

Mikhail took the document and headed for the registration counter.

As he walked, his eyes skimmed the densely filled pages—and paused on one entry.

〈37. Location: Colton Winery.〉

[A renowned wine-producing region is plagued by sudden troubles. Gather information that could provide a decisive lead toward solving the problems, or contribute directly to the resolution effort.]

[1. Identify the cause of the sleeping sickness spreading through the village and resolve it.]

[2. Apprehend the pickpocket relentlessly targeting travelers' belongings.]

[Full Resolution Reward Points: 50pt]

Mikhail pulled his eyes from the text and stepped up to the counter, presenting the documents he'd brought.

The applications he'd just filled out, plus the one Julien had handed him. And—

[Free Mission Participation and Group Application Form]

[Additional Member Assignment Request Form.]

—one more document he'd fished from his pocket: an additional member assignment request.

A team composed solely of mages would be at a disadvantage. A more diverse mix of roles made for smoother progress.

This was the form to request reinforcements.

Rustle.

When Mikhail presented everything, the receptionist accepted the full stack at once.

After scanning the contents, she gave a brisk nod.

"All submissions have been received. We'll call you shortly."

Mikhail took the call bell and headed back to where Julien was waiting.

Then he turned his head toward the counter. He could picture exactly what would happen next.

In roughly ten minutes, the reinforcement would be assigned.

Given the current pool, he'd likely end up with a mid-ranking swordsman—someone like Ronan Peron or Emil Lukanen.

I know the optimal strategy. Even if their abilities are a bit lacking, it's better to get someone easy to manage—

—Ding.

"...?"

Mikhail stared at the call bell in his hand.

Ten minutes hadn't passed yet. But the bell was already ringing to signal a completed assignment. What the—

—Ding.

Mikhail glared at the bell, gripped by a creeping sense of dread.

Julien leaned over and offered helpfully.

"Mikhail, the bell's ringing."

Mikhail dragged out a long, displeased sigh and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"...Yeah."

When Mikhail and Julien approached the counter, the receptionist held out a small slip of paper.

"Here's the name of your assigned member. They should be arriving any moment."

Mikhail took the slip and read the name written on it.

[Edwin Lowell.]

......?

His mind buzzed and his grip on reality slipped.

Mikhail raised his eyes to the ceiling, then lowered them again. He flipped the slip over, turned it back.

[Edwin Lowell.]

The letters hadn't changed.

"...Ha."

The instant Mikhail let out a sigh that could've sunk through the floor and pressed his fingers to his temple—

A booming voice exploded from behind him.

"NOOOOOOO!"

Mikhail crumpled the slip in his fist and turned toward the source.

A familiar figure stood there.

Almond-colored hair, sharp little canines, and a greatsword strapped to his back that was nearly as big as he was.

The boy he'd traded blows with in the armory. One of the Guild Alliance's rightful heirs.

Edwin Lowell.

The bad blood seared into his memory was reaching toward him through violently trembling fingertips.

"M-Mikhail! You! Why does it have to be YOU!"

Mikhail said nothing. He just scowled.

He raised a hand to cradle his throbbing eyes, and the old saying about enemies meeting on the narrowest bridge echoed through his skull like a struck bell.

And at the same time—

[God, you stupid bastard—!]

What surfaced, hazy and unbidden, was a moment from the back alleys.

The delinquents who used to run with Edwin, brushing past him and spitting in coarse voices—their words sharpened into focus.

[Edwin? Why are you even bringing up that moron who ran his mouth and got kicked out?]

[Said he wants to think for himself from now on or some crap like that... ha, what a joke. Idiot gets one idea in his head and thinks he's somebody.]

...Could it be that the change from back then is what led to this coincidence now?

Mikhail let out a low, contemplative sound and dropped the hand shielding his eyes.

The receptionist at the front leaned forward with a cautious tone.

"Just so you know... if you'd like to swap out your assigned member, you'll be pushed quite far back in the queue. Which means the mission registration priority you currently hold would naturally be forfeited as well."

Mikhail breathed a faint sigh and turned to face the receptionist.

"Could I get... just thirty minutes?"

"Of course. Take your time."

The moment he got the go-ahead, Mikhail turned on his heel and walked to the document-laden table.

From the stacks of paperwork, he picked up the one on the far right.

[Team Member Registration Form]

Mikhail narrowed his eyes at the heading.

Bad blood aside—on ability alone, Edwin outclasses anyone I was planning to bring in. If that's the case, then this is a blessing in disguise. Pressing forward with the current setup might actually be the better call.

Mikhail snatched up a pen and filled every blank on the page.

The form was done in seconds.

He walked up to Edwin and shoved the paper into his hands.

Crinkle.

Edwin, blindsided by the document thrust at him, wore a bewildered expression as he sputtered back.

"What are you... what is this?"

"I've written down all the basic information you'd need to decide. Read it yourself and make up your mind. Whether you're coming with me... with us, or not."

"......"

"If you need anything else, ask. And one more thing."

Mikhail paused for a single breath before continuing.

"I have no interest in dragging out old grudges."

Edwin's hand trembled around the crumpled paper. He lifted his head and stared, wordless, at the face across from him.