Chapter 4

A Jumped Gun: Suppose a Dumb Cop in a Detective Manga Picked the Culprit Based on Circumstantial Evidence

Those who knew her true nature deemed her a living nightmare.

Rol Calcife.

Even though she’d grown up in an orphanage, her unusual aptitude for magic had earned her a free ride to Rokujou Sorcery Academy.

This gave her the idea that she wasn’t like others—that she was special. She grew up with an ego. She believed she had a bright future ahead of her.

But as we all know, the world is a big place.

Rol was a genius: Teach her one thing, and she’d pick up ten more pieces of information from it. That was just how it was.

But at a school for the best, not everyone stopped at ten.

There were any number of real geniuses—people who would go all the way to a hundred more discoveries—and people with less talent.

The latter had excelled in certain subjects more than others. Life didn’t go as easily for them. But because of that, they were only too happy to work hard on what they were good at.

By the time her first year at the school was ending, she’d begun to realize the difference between her and those around her, and by the time she was halfway through, she realized the gap was insurmountable.

Both the real geniuses and the talentless ones that she’d looked down on had surpassed her.

People like Choline Sterase had honed their one trick, earning attention, admiration, and recognition.

She’d been a fool. But she couldn’t accept that fact.

The pride she’d bottled up inside herself came spilling out, and she’d thrown herself into preparing for the future—buttering up the teachers, manipulating people’s reputations, choosing to drag people down, advocating that geniuses be expelled or penalized, doing anything she could to win the trust of the staff, even sacrificing teachers if necessary.

She managed to graduate Rokujou Sorcery Academy at the top of her class.

But her pride could not be reined in. She began getting her hands dirty, trying to impress the West’s Ministry of Magic.

Leaking research data, mastering the forbidden art of necromancy—there was nothing she didn’t try.

And she clawed her way to the position of Rokujou Sorcery Academy headmaster.

Convinced she’d reached the top, Rol found the reality much harsher.

The sorcery academy’s reputation was in tatters. It was no longer lauded as the beacon of learning. The cause of this was obvious—the rot Rol herself had let fester. The school’s culture was now all about undermining one another.

And the country knew Rol’s weakness—they had proof of her misdeeds. By the time she realized she was doomed to serve them, it was too late.

“This isn’t where I end!”

She heard stories about colleagues she’d kicked aside doing well for themselves and gnawed her lips until blood seeped out of them.

“I’ve got to reach greater heights!” She’d developed a habit of saying that.

Even in the top seat, Rol was unable to relax.

This is not where you’re meant to be.

You belong where heroes go.

You’ve heard of a place called Kunlun?

Rol Calcife’s name belongs among those legends.

But to get there, you need the Holy Sword.

“g!”

Rol’s eyes snapped open. A stone ceiling loomed overhead.

Her lips were so dry they crackled when she moved them. She must have been out for a really long time. With some effort, she sat up.

Like a snake rearing up, her eyes darted around the room. This must be the medical wing. It was lit by light magic stones, and Mena was on the bed next to her, covered in fresh bandages.

She could still hear the noise of the crowd from outside. Sounded like the award ceremony was in progress.

“—The Holy Sword.”

The voice came from deep within her, laced with loathing.

“Holy Sword!”

She said it again. As she did, one of the Rokujou students originally scheduled for the tournament came in.

“A-are you okay, Headmaster?” asked a boy with some hesitation. He was still calling her headmaster.

“How could I be?” she growled. “You there, gimme a status update.”

The student gulped and nervously explained, “They’re handing the Holy Sword over to the winning team.”

“We can’t steal it right away, then…too risky.”

She flexed her hands a few times. Seemed like she could move but wasn’t up to fighting strength. She had to think.

Can’t steal it in a way that would attract attention—I’m at damn near rock bottom here, almost no pawns left.

She turned to the student, asking, “Did you locate a secluded place we could use in a pinch?”

“There’s an old lighthouse on the South Side that doesn’t seem to be in use. No one goes there who isn’t homeless.”

“Sounds perfect. You figure out who pulled the sword? Worst-case scenario, we bribe them and…”

“We looked into it but ran into trouble.”

“Trouble?”

The student glanced down at his notes, sounding tense. “Seems to involve a suspicious individual called the Witch of the East Side, but how that became a prize at this tournament? We couldn’t find any info there.”

“Her friends and family?”

“She lives with…maybe a little brother? He’s pretty popular with the neighbors. Seems like he’s pretty weak. She’s really protective of him.”

It was the total opposite—he was so strong she had to watch him like a hawk to make sure he didn’t cause trouble. Well, when she wasn’t just doting on him.

“…If that witch is any good, probably best to get her on our side. We need help here…”

At this point, the door swung open, and Phyllo silently stepped in.

“…Mm,” she said, expressionless.

Rol ignored her, continuing her conversation. “Anyway, find me anything you can on this Witch of the East Side.”

But before she could give any further instructions, Phyllo said something besides mm.

“……I know her.”

“This doesn’t concern… Wait, you do?”

Phyllo nodded gravely. Then she began attempting to explain. “…We met before… She lives with a boy…”

“Oh! Good work, Phyllo!”

“…I plan to live there, too.”

“Uh, um. Cool.”

“…As his student.”

Rol rubbed her temples, cutting the girl off. This nonsense about living there wasn’t getting them anywhere. She jumped ahead to what she wanted to know.

“Fine, fine—so you know that a wimpy kid lives there? The one everyone’s so protective of?”

“…Wimpy?”

“You know who I mean. That kid’s a friend of mine, so I want you to take him to the old lighthouse as soon as possible.”

Rol explained where the old lighthouse was, but Phyllo just frowned at her.

“…You…have friends?”

“Shut up! I do! I’ll write a letter quick, so just shut up and wait!”

Wiping her tears, Rol grabbed a piece of paper from the dresser, scribbled a quick note on it, and shoved it in an envelope.

“Leave this in the house and bring him with you. Make sure the witch doesn’t see you.”

“…Mm? …Why?”

“We’re playing hide-and-seek! It’s all the rage in Azami these days,” Rol said, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to explain for real.

“…Okay,” Phyllo droned, accepting it without further question.

You won’t accept friends, but you will play a game of hide-and-seek?!

Rol almost yelled at her, but if she did, it might ruin the whole plan. She swallowed her words and kept her voice calm. “From the top. The witch cares about this kid, so bring him to me without letting her know. Leave the letter for her to find. Got that?”

“…Mm.”

Without another word or sound, Phyllo swept out of the room.

The student looked at Rol, concerned. “Think she can handle it?”

“Well, she’s certainly physically capable of it, but there ain’t much goin’ on upstairs.”

“And…if we get caught kidnapping someone…both of us will be on the hook for it.”

Seemed like he was only really concerned for himself.

“Who cares? As long as I get that Holy Sword, nothing else matters…and I wrote ‘Quinone sisters’ on the letter, too. Don’t look so dang worried!”

She gave Mena a quick glance. She was just lying there, seemingly still unconscious.

“She can do this much to make up for her sister self-destructing…”

“Um, if we really do get the Holy Sword, you’ll really recommend me for a job at the ministry?”

Students today were so self-absorbed.

“Not just the ministry. You can have any government job of your choice—as long as you work yourself to death for me… Right, there’s something I need you to do at the lighthouse. You up for it?”

“Any government job? Y-yes! I’ll do anything you like!”

The dangled carrot was all he needed. She filled him in on what he was to do, and her little mule ran off.

“Yes…to death…”

Rol smiled to herself and left the room without making a noise.

A gust of wind rushed through the East Side.

Dust clouds rose, and an old man was so shocked that he threw out his back. A young woman had to hastily hold her skirt in place. Oh, look, a potted plant fell over.

That’s how fast Phyllo ran from the tournament hall to the East Side.

The sun was only just setting. The East Side marketplace had not grown dark yet, and the evening crowds had yet to arrive, so Phyllo reached her destination in no time.

“…Hide-and-seek.”

Remembering what Rol had told her, Phyllo put her back to the wall, shifting to stealth mode. Hide-and-seek and stealth missions are basically the same thing.

“…Was there a wimpy kid, though?”

Phyllo would never have classified Lloyd as wimpy. After all, he’d easily blocked her kick and just defeated her sister in a magic duel.

All but a few select people might believe Mena had failed her chant and self-destructed, but Phyllo knew better. Rol, however, didn’t…and this was the source of confusion.

“…And everyone’s…protective of him?”

She’d just have to look. Maybe there was someone else there.

Shortly after, she found the store—an old building on the side of a hill, decorated with old medicine pots. She slipped around back and stood up, peering through the window. The fence was taller than most people, but she hopped it easily. Total ninja move.

“…Where’s…the witch?” Phyllo frowned. The scene inside was very weird.

First…Marie was on her hands and knees, bowing.

That alone wasn’t completely unusual (in comparison to other things), but what she did next was beyond baffling.

“I’m so sorry! I’m really, really sorry!” She was repeatedly genuflecting to an empty table like she was praying for rain.

Then she stood up and picked a fist-sized crystal ball off the table, polishing it with a silk cloth—downright obsequiously. Apparently, she’d been bowing to the crystal.

This went on for a while—but about ten minutes later, she suddenly clutched her guts and vanished into the back. She came out looking exhausted and hopeless and began repeating the same cycle.

“…What?”

To anyone unfamiliar with the circumstances, this was exceedingly bizarre. Even Marie herself was wondering what she’d ever done to deserve this treatment.

Phyllo thought for a long time but then remembered Rol’s words and arrived at a conclusion.

“…Protective… Important…”

The way Marie was gently polishing the crystal seemed to jog her mind.

“…I see…that crystal…is important. It needs protecting… You could break it with a single kick.”

Which was definitely not true for everyone…

“…And…even inanimate objects count as friends…if you’re Rol. Checks out.”

Definitely a bit insulting.

Phyllo waited until Marie vanished into the back again and then snuck in.

“…Sorry… The door…”

Crack! The doorknob went flying off.

“…isn’t locked… Good…”

There was nothing good about it, really.

She stepped inside, grabbed the crystal off the table, and shoved it in her pocket.

“…The letter.”

As instructed, she dropped the letter on the table, spun around, and ran quickly back out—piles of books and potted plants collapsing from the winds in her wake.

At terrifying speeds, Phyllo ran all the way to the old lighthouse where Rol was waiting.

A few minutes later, a miserable-looking Marie emerged from…well, the toilet.

“Damn her… Damn that loli grandma… Using the wisdom of the ancients for this! And what’s with those ancients? Why’d they leave behind a rune that gives you the shits?!”

No use complaining to people in the afterlife.

“If Lloyd saw me like this, he’d never marry me…”

A girl who sprinted to the can every ten minutes could turn passion on its head.

And Lloyd was nice. If he saw her like this, he’d smile gently, look concerned, and tell her it was a sign that she was healthy.

“And that would make it ten times worse…!”

Between the naked-on-the-floor incident and a whole lot of nail chewing, her maiden meter had hit bottom so hard the needle almost broke. If they added diarrhea on top of that, the meter was never getting repaired.

Marie sighed and made ready for another rep of her genuflect-and-crystal-polish routine.

“Bwah?!”

But as she did, she tripped over something. One of the pots she was growing herbs in had fallen over, scattering soft leaves and stones everywhere.

Marie banged her head on the table, then used it to leverage herself back upright. She was so exhausted that she failed to notice the precious tortoiseshell brooch Lloyd had given her got torn off in the process. She could barely stand.

“Why is the pot…? Gasp!”

Another wave of pain hit Marie’s guts—the biggest of the day.

This was a wave she had to ride! Her guts were pumped.

“…Dammit aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall!” Marie scuttled back toward the toilet.

Today’s battle will be a long one, thought her brain general, staring at the map of the war zone in her intestines.

Let’s check in on what Lloyd’s group was up to after the tournament.

Riho’s victory left her showered with applause, but her condition was bad enough that she was rushed to the hospital.

Between the mid-match treatment and the skills of Choline, the expert healer, her arm appeared to be fully healed, but given her loss of blood and magic, it would be a while before she regained consciousness.

The award ceremony was quickly wrapped up, and then they left the press to Choline and went with Riho to the hospital.

On the way, Chrome spoke to Lloyd.

“Her life’s in no danger, but would you mind getting a potion from Maria—ahem, Marie? They’re better than anything on the market. Tell her that you all won while you’re there! She’ll be delighted, I’m sure.”

Selen immediately said she’d go with him, but Chrome dragged her to the hospital, saying she needed to get checked on, too.

So Lloyd ended up back at the shop alone, the cloth-wrapped Holy Sword tucked under his arm.

He arrived just after the Big Wave hit.

“I’m home… Huh?”

He tried to enter like always, but his hand grabbed empty air. Confused, he looked down to find the doorknob ripped off.

Lloyd frowned and slowly eased open the door. Inside, he found potted plants and furniture tossed everywhere, like someone had sacked the place. “I’m back… Marie?” he called.

No answer. Because she was engaged in the toilet war zone.

But Lloyd was unaware of that, left staring in horror.

A ransacked room. No signs of the owner.

Lloyd feared the worst.

His eyes darted to the table, where he found a letter.

He recognized the paper—it was the tournament stationery. He quickly opened it and read the contents.

We have someone important to you.

No harm will be done as long as you steal the Holy Sword from Azami.

Bring it to the old lighthouse on the South Side. I’m sure you can manage it.

—The Quinone Sisters

As Lloyd gasped, his foot bumped something.

“……………!”

It was the tortoiseshell brooch he’d given Marie. Parted from its owner, there was a forlorn gleam to the reddish shell.

“She’s never taken that off!”

Lloyd had been very happy about that.

This clinched it. Lloyd made up his mind—just as a noise came from behind him.

The front door opened, and in came…

“Excuse me, is Marie here? It’s a little embarrassing, but I’ve got some hemorrhoids that could use medicating. Something stronger than the market—Oh, hey, Lloyd!”

Allan had come in looking gloomy, but his face brightened when he saw Lloyd.

“Allan!”

“Lloooooyd! That match was amazing! Seemed like the crowd didn’t follow it, but you really got to strut your stuff out there! I got so excited, I ripped my hem—I mean, an old wound open! Which is what brings me here. You’re back already? There a celebration? If you don’t mind me crashing it—”

At this point, Allan finally noticed how worried Lloyd was.

“Allan…”

“What’s wrong? Fill me in.”

Lloyd hesitated, afraid to say it out loud. But time was of the essence.

“Um…I think Marie’s…been kidnapped.”

Well, that was entirely wrong. But given the circumstantial evidence, you can hardly blame him, can you? Sadly, the only thing missing was the crystal.

“Whaaat?!”

“The opposing team in the finals really wants that Holy Sword…and they want me to go steal it for them!”

Lloyd sounded bitter—if only he’d done something when he noticed Marie hadn’t come to see the tournament!

“I’m sure they grabbed her as a bargaining chip in case they lost—nothing else would have prevented her from coming to watch!”

Well, an upset stomach had. But this idea did not occur to him.

Lloyd’s story got Allan’s heroic streak going.

“Those curs!”

Nice one. He even threw in a good old-fashioned table thump!

“What should we do?” Lloyd asked. “Riho and Selen are both in the hospital…and…”

He wasn’t sure he could just give Rol the Holy Sword.

Wouldn’t that invalidate everything they’d fought for? It wasn’t his decision to make.

But Allan caught the look in his eyes and nodded. “Your mind’s already made up, isn’t it?”

“…”

Allan took his silence as agreement.

He offered words of encouragement. “But you’re worried about giving her the Holy Sword?”

“Uh, yeah…,” Lloyd said, dithering.

“Do what you think is right!” Allan roared.

Lloyd jumped, startled. “A-Allan?”

Allan grinned. “That’s what you taught me, isn’t it? I didn’t just ask to be your student because of your strength—I asked because that swept me off my feet.”

“Ah-ha-ha— Strength? Me?”

Joking at a time like this! Lloyd thought. Allan didn’t think he was joking, of course.

He’d been desperately trying to get promoted before anyone found out his weakness—that he had no idea how to handle monsters. But when monsters had actually attacked him, Lloyd had come along, rescued him, and made him see the light.

“Look, if Riho says anything to you about handing over the Holy Sword, don’t worry—I’ll come get a scolding with you.”

Allan thumped his chest. It hit Lloyd’s ears like the beat of a drum.

“……! Um!”

Which was more important: Marie’s life or a Holy Sword? There was no comparison.

He made up his mind. His eyes met Allan’s.

“Marie matters more than any sword! So I’m going to get her back! Will you help, Allan?”

The big man grinned, like he’d been waiting for that response.

“You got it! Let’s get going! Even if it is a trap, there’s nothing the two of us can’t fight our way out of!”

“…Right! Let’s go!”

Lloyd tightened his grip on the Holy Sword, and the two of them raced off toward the old lighthouse.

In a corner of the warehouse district on the South Side, Rol was perched in a room in the abandoned lighthouse.

The sun was setting now, and the orange light reflecting off the gentle surface of the harbor was very beautiful. Rol’s face, bathed in the same orange glow, was twisted in fury.

She was holding a crystal—the object Phyllo had brought by mistake.

“…How is this a wimpy kid?”

“……It isn’t?”

“Of course not! How do you confuse kid and crystal?!”

“…It was important to her.”

“Sure, maybe a crystal is important to a witch, but… No, I was an idiot to have asked you in the first place.”

Spoken like a true abusive employer. Phyllo should probably have reported this to HR, but the thought never occurred to her. She just stood there, no expression at all, nothing approaching emotion on her face.

“…Mm.”

Rol leaned against a desk, rubbing her forehead. “Tch…I just want one thing to go right…”

At this point, the student from the tournament hall stepped forward.

“Rol, we just got word! The kid from the witch’s place is coming here with the Holy Sword! Another man is with him.”

Rol gaped at him. That was unexpected.

“…gh! Lloyd!”

But the most unexpected thing…was that Phyllo actually reacted. She ran over to the window, leaning out like a kid who’d just seen something neat, staring at the speck in the distance.

“Huh? I can’t see a thing. Where’re my binoculars? Wait, Phyllo?”

When she turned back with the binoculars, Phyllo had scrambled up on the windowsill. “…Mm.”

A few dozen yards up, her hair streaming in the sea breeze, lit by the evening sun, the look on her face…was joy—a big smile, from ear to ear, overflowing with happiness. Rol couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Uh, wait! Phyllo!”

“…Bonus round.” Phyllo leaped out of a window dozens of yards above the ground. She kicked the wall of the lighthouse, bounded across a few warehouse roofs, and was out of sight.

Rol gaped after her, astonished by this transformation, but then decided things were working in her favor and regained her composure.

“Whatever! As long as Phyllo crushes him, we’re good. Just gotta collect the Holy Sword later! But I guess this dumb crystal really was important to her…”

Rol’s serpentine grin reflected in the crystal’s surface.

This might be a real score, she thought, carefully placing the crystal behind the sliding door of the office desk.

She turned toward the student, with a smile nice enough to give anyone chills.

“Wh-what is it, Headmaster?” he asked, every hair on him standing on end.

“There’s a chance there’s more than two enemies…and we need to make sure Phyllo doesn’t blow it. How many did you get?”

“Fifty-something homeless guys. They’re waiting for instructions down below.”

“Well, well…nicely done.”

“I-it wasn’t that hard. And if you’ll recommend me for government work, this much is the least…”

“Oh, yes…you wanted a job with the Rokujou Ministry or government, right?”

“Exactly! But they’d never look twice at someone at the bottom of his class like me…”

There was a hint of desperation in his voice.

But Rol wasn’t listening. She was already staring at the first stars as they appeared on the horizon, muttering to herself. “Curious about the identity of his companion, but the timing’s perfect… When darkness shrouds the scene, I’m at my best.”

“Er, um…?” The student gulped. It was already spring, but there was a chill in the air.

“Oh, don’t look so startled. There’s more lost souls around harbors than most people think.”

“S-souls?”

“Unfortunate accidents, all manner of crime… Not the sort of knowledge taught in school, is it?”

The student feverishly rubbed the goose bumps on his arms and looked up…to find Rol standing right in front of him.

He let out short shriek, and her hands clamped on his head.

She held him gently, like a mother cradling a child.

But her expression was pure snakelike malice.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re just their type. They love people like you.” Her mouth opened wide, like a snake’s grin. “I’ll need you to get possessed.”

The student’s expression went vacant. He groaned. Hollow eyes with no will of their own stared back at Rol.

“Long time since you had flesh, spirit. Make sure you heed my words.”

The only response was a repeated twitch.

“Go outside and attack anyone who approaches.”

With slight convulsions, it dragged its feet out the door.

“Only fifty more to go… Ugh, I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

She didn’t sound at all upset, though. Rol headed down the stairs.

“I must have that Holy Sword, no matter the cost—and necromancy will help me do that.”

Once the sun set, there were few people around the South Side harbor.

By this hour, the fishermen were all headed to grab food and drinks. The men of the sea rise early, get their ship work done, and drink the night away.

Lloyd and Allan sped through the deserted harbor.

Soon they were close enough to smell the sea breeze, the pavement beneath their feet growing worn.

This was the edge of the warehouse district. The old lighthouse loomed overhead.

The magic stones in the streetlamps had not been changed recently, and their lights were dim.

“I’ve heard they’re not using these warehouses anymore, and the place has become a haven for the homeless,” Allan said.

Moss-covered crates, nets, barnacle-looking shellfish on the wharf—this place had clearly gone to waste.

“…Marie might be in one of these warehouses,” Lloyd said grimly.

Her safety was all he could think about.

“Yeah… Hngg?”

A shadow had fallen from the sky in front of them.

Allan braced himself for a trap, glaring at the figure blocking their path.

“…………”

Functional trousers, baggy jacket. Figure like a model but no expression. Phyllo gave Allan a once-over. He gaped back—was it the magic-stone puncher from the tournament?

“Y-you’re from—”

“…………” Phyllo quickly lost interest in him and walked up to Lloyd.

Totally ignored, Allan was left unsure what to do.

Lloyd took a step forward, looking unusually grim.

And Phyllo?

“…Ah-ha.” She laughed.

This briefly rattled Lloyd, but he soon recovered, asking about Marie. “I read your letter.”

“…Letter?”

“Don’t play stupid with me!”

Allan had never heard Lloyd angry before. The hairs on the back of his neck rose.

Phyllo wasn’t lying, though; she really hadn’t read the letter.

“Where’s Marie? Tell me!”

Phyllo looked confused. Marie was back at the shop. He lived with her. Why was he asking?

Now that she thought about it, Marie had been running back and forth to the toilet clutching her guts.

“…Dunno. But…more importantly…” She grinned again.

With the evening sky behind her, the smile took on an ominous pallor.

“…Fight me!”

She kicked the ground, shot at him, low to the ground, going for a tackle—and hit Lloyd with the force of a rampaging bull.

“—h!” Lloyd caught her with both hands.

The impact shook every light, rattling every paving stone around them.

Lloyd’s foot sank into the pavement, but he stopped her dead in her tracks.

Phyllo’s face briefly registered surprise, but then she grinned again. “…Ah-ha.”

“What’s so funny?”

She took a few steps back, taking a new stance.

“…When you beat Mena, I knew…you’re worth risking my life to fight.”

“L-life?”

“Ah-ha!” Phyllo laughed again. “…Martial artists are always searching for their place of death.”

Scrunch!

From up high and down low, mid-height and a sweep of the leg—a furious volley of kicks were each easily caught by Lloyd.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! And that whole student thing, either! Or sudden challenges…”

“…Aim for greater heights, I thought. So I asked to be your student. But…not now.” Her eyes were wide open, looking more alive than ever before. “…You’re worthy of being the end of my path! Lloyd Belladonna!”

Phyllo’s fist struck home for the first time, delivering a devastating body blow.

“L-Lloyd!” Allan yelped, seeing him fold around it.

The shock wave followed, causing the air to shake and cracking the fragile walls of the nearby warehouse.

Both leaped back, watching each other’s faces. Lloyd looked more confused than pained. And that just made Phyllo’s smile broaden.

The only sound in the warehouse district was the clang of the wall collapsing.

Then an unprecedented level of energy began radiating off Lloyd. Allan and Phyllo both froze in place.

As the chill of his aura set in, Lloyd spoke. “I don’t mind fighting…but promise me one thing.”

“…Mm.”

“If I win, you’ll tell me where Marie is!”

There was a long pause, then Phyllo nodded. “…If that’s all you want.”

Meanwhile, Allan was so overwhelmed, he’d crumpled to the ground. “Th-that’s not what happens when humans clash…”

Lloyd held the cloth-wrapped Holy Sword out in his direction.

“Sorry, Allan,” he said. “Can you take this?”

“M-me?”

“She’s only after me. But I don’t know what cowardly tricks might be going on around us. Make sure no one steals the Holy Sword—”

But before Lloyd could finish, Phyllo closed the gap between them.

No signal, just right into it.

Phyllo towered over Lloyd, forcing him to look up at her. There was a moment’s pause, then both fists pummeled—one downward, the other up.

When they touched, the air exploded, shooting off a noise like a blown-out tire on a four-ton truck, enough to tear the eardrums of anyone nearby.

The wind blew Allan backward. “…Seriously?!”

Allan was an experienced fighter, so he knew just how ridiculous this was.

Particularly Lloyd’s punches—he’d just swung his arm. He hadn’t even put his back in it!

And yet, the outcome was this? Even as Allan marveled, Phyllo’s body shot upward.

“……Ngh!”

She’d jumped. The moon was peeking over the horizon, and it was briefly obscured by her slim form.

She then used the height to her advantage, striking downward. Lloyd couldn’t dodge it.

“Hngg!” He blocked the blow with both arms.

In midair, Phyllo’s body twisted, going for a flurry of kicks. Her leg gleamed in the darkness like a blade.

“Gah!” He blocked that, too.

The pavement beneath him cracked, unable to handle the force. Water from the wharf began slowly seeping onto the road.

“…Whoops.”

Not wanting to get her foot caught in the cracks, Phyllo backed away.

“Allan! Now’s your chance!”

“R-right!”

Allan snapped out of it and strode quickly away, careful not to step on damaged ground.

While Lloyd was watching Allan leave, Phyllo slowly moved toward him, flashing a killer smile.

I’ve got to win this for Marie…but can I?

Lloyd remembered playing with girls in Kunlun, getting a fracture from a light slap on the arm. Well…that had nothing to do with his strength, though. Kunlun was just off the charts.

Phyllo must still be holding back, Mr. Low Self-Esteem assumed.

So he was desperately racking his brains for a way to win.

I’ve got to win! There must be a way…

Then…he saw a waist-high wooden box.

That’s it!

Having found an idea, Lloyd quickly picked up the box.

“…You’re gonna hit me? With an old crate?”

She was an arm’s length away. She watched him and the box carefully.

“Oomph.”

But instead of hitting her with it, Lloyd placed it right in front of her.

Phyllo looked confused…until Lloyd plunked his elbow down on the box.

“…What?”

“I—I challenge you to an arm-wrestling match!”

Phyllo finally recognized the stance Lloyd had taken—the universal arm-wrestling pose.

But even with that knowledge… Why? She frowned at him.

“Y-you see,” Lloyd explained. “In my village, we have a custom of settling these things with arm wrestling. My grandfather’s idea!”

Obviously, this was a lie. The one lie he’d made up to have a shot at winning.

“…Your grandfather?” Phyllo asked.

But Lloyd’s reply blew her mind. “Well, the man who raised me. Grandpa Pyrid!”

Phyllo’s face twisted. “………!”

“Uh… Huh?”

“…Where…are you from?”

“I’m from a village named Kunlun!”

Phyllo’s laughter echoed across the moonlit sky. “…Ah-ha… Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Lloyd was worried she’d figured out his lie, but apparently, that wasn’t why she was laughing.

She’d been reluctant to arm wrestle, but now she smiled like she’d figured everything out and banged her elbow down on the box.

“So…you’ll take me on? Good.” Lloyd was unaware that the man who’d raised him had also inspired Phyllo’s fighting style—the legendary hero, Pyrid the Fierce God.

Neither did he know his own village was believed to be a legend, too.

“…That explains your strength! Very well! Let us settle things the way your village does!”

Their hands clamped together.

“Ready…,” Phyllo said.

““Go!””

Snap! Cracks formed below both pairs of feet.

Two superhumans were wreaking further havoc on the pavement.

The box groaned.

“Hngg!”

“Uhhhh!”

Then the ground gave way, and Lloyd lost his balance.

“…Now!” Phyllo seized the chance, throwing her weight on it.

“Uh!” The back of his hand shot toward the ground. “Not yet!”

Lloyd’s foot slammed the ground…sinking it before his hand could strike.

Seawater sprayed upward, and Lloyd flipped his body, sending himself and Phyllo flying.

“Urp!”

“…What?!”

For a moment, both were hovering, the moonlight playing in the water spray around them.

In midair, they traded positions, attacking and defending in turn.

Whoever landed first would lose.

And a few inches above the ground…

…Phyllo was on top.

“Ha!”

She grinned, certain she’d won.

And then Lloyd raised his other hand, directly beside her.

“Aero!”

A gale blasted bodies sideways along the surface of the ground.

And Phyllo’s back hit the decrepit warehouse.

“No—!”

“Rahhh!”

Phyllo was pressed against a wall that read Warehouse No. 1, pushing through that wall and blowing the warehouse away—to Warehouse No. 2.

And on to Warehouse No. 3.

And Warehouse No. 4.

The momentum only stopped when she hit No. 5.

Covered in bits of warehouse, they slid down the wall to the ground…where the back of Phyllo’s hand landed first.*

*This is an arm-wrestling match.

Having somehow won the arm-wrestling (remember?) match, Lloyd heaved a sigh of relief.

“Whew…never figured arm wrestling in the city would be so action-packed! But hey! I won.”

He finally relaxed a little and took a good look at his palm.

“I actually chanted properly! I used magic…!”

He’d been so focused on saving Marie, he’d cast the beginner spell Aero without stressing it.

“Wow…I really can do it! Even a failure like me…if I’m helping someone else…”

You’re not a failure, kid. But perhaps we shouldn’t yell at him. This could well be a big step toward greater confidence!

Anyway, he needed to find out where Marie was. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind…

Foom!

“……!” Phyllo leaped to her feet, hurling herself at him.

“Crap! I have to knock her out? Is that a city rule?!”

There is no such house rule.

Lloyd cursed his own naïveté! But Phyllo was acting sort of weird.

Almost…sweet?

“…Marry me.”

“Wait, what? Huh? Why?”

“…A Kunlun villager is worth devoting my life to…and I can’t imagine marrying anyone but a fighter in the same style.”

Completely confused, Lloyd settled for freeing himself from her grasp.

“S-same style? L-look, I’ve got to get to Marie! I won, so tell me where she is!”

Phyllo seemed unclear why he was asking.

“…You need her blessing? Then let’s go to the store together.”

“Uh…the store?”

“…Mm.”

Phyllo managed to explain what she’d done. She did have the decency to leave out the bit about the toilet.

It slowly dawned on Lloyd that he’d leaped to all kinds of conclusions. He was relieved that Marie was safe, but…

“Er, uh…then Allan’s…”

He quickly turned toward the lighthouse.

Meanwhile, Allan was running along, regretting being here at all.

And not just because getting mixed up in this could be dangerous.

“…They’re too much!”

The difference between him and Lloyd—and even Phyllo—was painfully obvious.

And that made him panic—but still, he kept running, doing what he could.

“…Can I reach such heights someday? No, I will!”

Trying to cheer himself up, he raced blindly through the South Side.

“First, protect this Holy Sword until Lloyd wins!”

The best way to keep the anxiety at bay was to accomplish the task his mentor had given him. He threaded his way through the warehouse alleys until he came to a clearing.

“A wharf?” he muttered.

A figure loomed before him.

“Wha—?!”

It was a man in a Rokujou Sorcery Academy uniform—he recognized it from the tournament. But this man’s face was pallid, and he was shuffling along with clear purpose.

When he saw Allan, he drifted toward him. A rusty blade in his hand.

“Heh-heh-heh… Good timing. Just as I could use a little confidence boost.”

Allan grabbed his battle-ax and gave it a big swing—a simple attack, like an angry child venting frustration.

Hit head-on, the man fell over on his back and didn’t move again.

“Right on! This should let me blow off a little steam!” He swung his ax a few more times at nothing, roaring, “I’ll take you all on!”

As if answering his call, more men shuffled out of the alleys, all sporting a similar vibe.

They weren’t dressed the same, but all of them looked to be homeless. Some had weapons, some didn’t…

Shuffle… Shuffle…

And there were around fifty of them.

“Well, not that manyyy!”

Allan was an honest man.

But even as he yelped—well, shrieked—someone jumped him from behind.

It was the student he’d just knocked down. Moving even faster than before, he soon had Allan in a grappling hold from behind.

“You’re kidding? How did that not knock you out?!”

Allan was surprised, but he still threw his opponent off him. The student landed hard on his back on the stone pavement, but this didn’t seem to bother him.

“What’s going on? Did you all take some weird drugs or something? I’m a budding soldier here! I’ve got the authority to arrest all of you!”

No reaction. He’d been hoping the word arrest would give them second thoughts, but no such luck.

“Shit! Fine! Be that way! I’ll cut you all down! Just you watch!”

Allan took big strides toward his enemies, about to take an equally big swing at the ones in front when…

Kaboooooooooooooom!

There was a flash of light and then a huge gust of wind right in front of him.

“Hngg!”

Had Lloyd just shown up? Or was it someone new? Bracing himself against the wind, he stared into the darkness from whence it came. There…

“Nope, nope! With necromancy, the possession only deepens when you knock out the host! You just make them stronger.”

There was a reassuring lightness to her tone—it was Mena, wrapped in bandages.

“Uh, you’re…the water mage! The one who broke character while fighting Lloyd!”

She winced at the reminder, scratching the side of her neck.

“Urp, that was bad… It’s been years since I let my true self show! Ugh, I had to lie there listening to Rol trick Phyllo, race over to the info broker’s, read the note, and then race all the way over here! This is all Rol’s fault! If I took her to court, it’d be a slam dunk!”

Listening to her rant, Allan rubbed his forehead. “You’re sure about turning on your boss?”

“Boss, schmoss. I ain’t letting anyone use my sister for their own nefarious ends… She needs to get raked over the coals!”

Sounded like she had good reason to be pissed, so Allan decided he could trust her.

“Then help me rescue this witch!”

Mena gave him a look of surprise. “Huh? Rescue? Marie’s back at the shop, though? I dunno if she’s exactly in the best condition, but…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she’d run out of toilet paper… Whoops, eyes front! More coming.”

“Aughhh!”

A few of the foes Allan hadn’t knocked aside interrupted their conversation. He swatted one or two away, but with even more right behind, Allan started throwing barrels and crates, slowing them down.

“Well done! You may be a bit pathetic, but you’re not bad—at being a mage-protecting wall!”

“Don’t just stand there snarking! You’re a mage—hit ’em with another one of those!”

“What? And here I was, giving you a chance to show off… Kidding, of course.”

“Huh?” Allan gaped at her, and Mena grinned back.

“Nothing dumber you can do than pick a fight with a water mage on the seafront.”

She pointed, and Allan turned to look…

“What the hell is that thing?! A—a water monster?!”

A massive water flow was wrapping itself around the men like ivy.

“A spell to summon a water snake… That flash and gust earlier were just a side effect of the spell.”

“That gust…was a side effect?”

She was, in her own right, totally unfathomable.

“If I hold on to them until morning, the spirits will dissipate… Why are you looking all depressed? Got a tummy ache?”

“No…just… Wow, the world sure is a big place…”

First Lloyd, then Phyllo, now Mena… All way beyond him. It was enough to discourage anyone.

“Don’t be silly! You’re still young! And biceps ain’t the measure of a man. You can’t lead anyone with strength alone!”

“The advice of a first-class mage means a lot to someone like me.”

“Cool, then gimme a hand punishing Rol for this stupidity.”

“If there’s a need for one as powerless as me, I’m happy to help.”

“…I really didn’t think she was this bad, deep down…so I’m hoping we can snap her out of it. It’s a subordinate’s job to cover for the boss… Wait, that’s the other way around! Ah-ha-ha!”

Mena’s eyes opened, glaring at the lighthouse in the distance. But a moment later, she was back to her usual impish smile.

Rol Calcife was watching all of this through binoculars from the top of the lighthouse.

Her lips twitching, she lowered the binoculars, spitting words like curses.

“Menaaa… You traitor! You dare get in my way?”

Everything was going wrong. Today… No, years back, when Riho had first run from her. No, even before that, when she’d been at the sorcery academy… Blaming everything but herself, she took out her anger on the binoculars.

Grinding the shattered lenses beneath her heel, breathing heavily, she tried to think.

“I’ve lost my position as headmaster…and my failures here will reach their ears eventually. But so what?” She seemed to be trying to convince herself. “If I can just get the Holy Sword… If I can just drag myself to further heights…”

With her mind made up, Rol turned to the rows of possessed men behind her and gave them an order. “Secure an escape route for me! Even if it kills you.”

Without even a nod, the hollow-eyed men drifted off down the hall.

“At least I’ve got necromancy… I will get them back for this… And someday, that sword will be—”

But before she could finish…

There was a snap and a crack. The sounds came from the desk behind her. Rol turned toward it, backing away.

“…Wh-what? Some sort of insect? No, wait, I put—”

—the witch’s crystal in there.

“AAAAAAAAAAH—Llooooyd!”

The desk split in two, and a cute little girl came bursting out like the story of Momotaro emerging from a peach in the river. But unlike the little peach boy, she was wearing clothes: a white robe with dangly sleeves, cute black pigtails, looking barely ten years old—the chief of Kunlun, Alka.

She’d skipped out on work to go see Lloyd on so many occasions that the villagers had gotten enraged. Until this very moment, she had been forced to help with the harvest. But she’d earned herself a rest at last!

And free again, her Lloyd deprivation meter at its max, she’d come flying over—unaware that the crystal teleportation gate had been moved to an unknown location.

She looked around the dimly lit room, then advanced on Rol.

“Where’s Lloyd?”

“Huh? Who are you, little girl?”

“Where’s Lloyd?”

“Were you playing hide-and-seek here? Geez, don’t I have enough problems—?”

“Where’s Lloyd?”

The repeated question was getting on Rol’s nerves. “I dunno! Shut up, brat!”

The temperature in the room dropped noticeably.

“Oh? I don’t know who you are, but clearly, you’re standing between me and Lloyd!”

Alka was past rational thought. Although it would seem she’d never been capable of it to begin with…

But either way, Alka stepped over to Rol and began using sigils to cast a spell.

“Th-those are…ancient runes!”

Quick, powerful magic from a little girl…

Rol’s mind couldn’t processes this. She just gaped at Alka.

“Lloyd!”

Light shone from the lighthouse for the first time in years.

Well, it wasn’t actually light, so much as…

Kaboooooom.

…a side effect of the massive explosion.

The shock wave Alka unleashed pierced the heavens and vanished into the stars.

“What the hell?!”

Allan and Mena had been preparing to burst in, and instead, they were left gaping up at the fireworks.

“…I’ve been a mercenary a long time, but I’ve never seen anyone use magic like that.”

Pieces of something black were falling through the light into the water.

“…Is that one human?”

One fragment was hurled toward them. An object clad in a familiar elegant suit, now hurtling through the air.

It passed over their heads and crashed headfirst into a pile of wooden crates. They were filled with unused nets, which seemed to have cushioned the blow enough to spare her life.

“I-is that Rol?”

“Er…Rol Calcife?”

No way. They looked closer, and it was definitely that woman, like a snake with its fangs broken, her legs twitching, out cold. For the second time that day.

“It really is Rol Calcife…”

“Who did this…?”

In the distance, Allan heard a familiar voice yelling, “I smell Lloyd this waaaay!” He began worrying about something else entirely.

“Th-then those black things were…”

“Possessed people. If they fell in the water, they might well drown…”

Mena seemed unconcerned, but Allan yelped, “Oh, shit! We’ve gotta rescue them!”

“Huh? What for? They’re total strangers— Hey, listen!”

Allan had just jumped in the water.

“Who cares if they’re homeless! They’ve all just been tricked by that Rol lady! We can’t just let them die—GWEH!”

Even in the water, they were still possessed, and he found himself under attack.

“W-wait, crap! I’m gonna die! Heeeelp!”

Mena shook her head but then grinned.

“For someone who puts himself down at lot, you sure do make people want to follow your lead.”

With a bitter laugh, she began casting a spell to save him.