Even Lina, who didn’t have the senses to perceive a demon’s main body, sensed the thing in its destruction. The ball of “information” stopped, frozen, and then shattered. If controlling psion information bodies in the information dimension was what made a magician, then the Sirius, one of the highest-level magicians, would have certainly noticed the huge amount of psions spraying everywhere during the main body’s collapse.

“Lunar magic…?”

And even if she couldn’t personally use mind-interfering magic, she had enough magical sensibility to make a guess as to what had been used from the result it had brought about.

Lunar magic was the name in the English-speaking sphere for certain mental interference spells, especially ones that attacked the mind or dealt direct damage for it. It came from the name of one of the most famous mental interference spells in the exotyped group called Luna Strike.

Unusually for mental interference exotyped magic, Luna Strike’s process had been formularized. The first-magnitude Stars learned about the Luna Strike spell in case they needed to protect themselves against it.

Lina had seen Luna Strike many times as well, of course. Therefore, even though she didn’t understand the mechanism behind Cocytus the first time seeing it, she correctly deduced that the spell had done direct and lethal damage to the mind.

And that Miyuki had been the one who had used it.

“Such powerful lunar magic… Miyuki, you… No, you and Tatsuya both… What are you?” muttered Lina in a daze, still slumped on the ground.

The idea of what might have happened if she’d used this spell in their duel didn’t coalesce into a clear form in her head. The surprise racking her mind was still too great.

Miyuki was actually in a similar state at the moment.

She leaned against Tatsuya’s chest, half her body awash in the ecstasy. It was both because it had been a long time since she’d used every ounce of her power for a spell and because she’d been intoxicated by the sheer quantity of information she saw for the first time through her brother’s vision.

Now that the stormy pair had lost their sobriety (?), this was his chance. Tatsuya removed the communicator from his ear and turned it off.

“Lina, tell nobody what you saw just now.”

His gaze was downturned, his voice low, and his tone overpowering.

“Wh-what the hell…?”

Normally, such a high-pressure warning would have had the opposite effect on her. But as Tatsuya predicted, Lina wasn’t her normal self.

Exposed to a large amount of stress, her nerves strained to their limits, she had lost sight of her main objective and fallen into a state of absolute bewilderment. It was the perfect chance to “persuade” her.

“In exchange, I swear to keep quiet about your identity as Angie Sirius. This applies to not only Miyuki and I but to everyone on our end involved in this.”

Lina had a hard time coming up with a reply. She stared with her blue eyes at Tatsuya as he looked down at her.

He made out the light of thought steadily returning to them.

A sense of duty.

Suspicion.

Self-preservation.

Self-justification.

Many an emotion flitted through her eyes, trying to (psychologically) rationalize themselves in her head. Tatsuya didn’t have any psychoanalysis know-how or mind-sensing skills, so he didn’t clearly understand it to that point, but he instinctively knew Lina was desperately trying to convince herself of something.

Her internal chaos didn’t last for very long.

“…I don’t have any right to refuse, do I?” she said, words dripping with resignation.

“That’s not true,” denied Tatsuya. But he didn’t tell her what would happen if she did.

Suspicion bred unease. Words unspoken—or rather, the act of not speaking them—was the last push Lina needed.

“Fine… If you’ll stay quiet, it’s a good deal for me, too. I’ll keep you and Miyuki a secret… Nobody would believe me anyway, I bet.”

Tatsuya couldn’t make out the last sentence, since she’d said it to herself. He didn’t ask her to repeat it.

He picked up his sister under the arm—she still couldn’t walk—and then, when she suddenly came to and started flailing under his grip, he ordered her to calm down and turned his back to Lina.

But that was all he did—he didn’t start walking.

Lina, dubious, went to say something to him, but a moment before that—

“Lina.”

—he said her name.

“Something else?”

Those words could have been interpreted as irritation on their own, but her voice wasn’t as angry as that.

The cornered air around her had disappeared as though a spirit possessing her had left.

“Lina, if you ever want to leave the Stars…”

“Huh?”

“If you ever want to quit being a soldier, I think I can help. I mean, I don’t have much to offer myself, but I have acquaintances who do.”

“Tatsuya? What are you talking about?”

Lina didn’t blow up and say, “None of your business,” or laugh it off and say, “That’s absurd.”

“I never… I don’t want to leave the Stars or stop being the Sirius.”

She simply answered him, mystified.

“I see,” Tatsuya noted shortly, without turning around. He started to walk.

“Wait, Tatsuya! Why would you ask me that?!” shouted Lina after him.

Still not turning around, though, he only offered, “Sorry, that was a weird thing to ask,” and continued on his way.

The mechanical doll that obeyed him, of course, didn’t turn to face her at all.

Only Miyuki, held in her brother’s arm as they departed, looked over his shoulder at her apprehensively.

When Tatsuya disappeared into the shadows of the trees, Lina suddenly snapped out of it.

Realizing she’d been staring at him leave, she hastily rose from her kneeling position.

Why had her eyes been chasing after him like that…? When the question came to mind, Lina shook her head violently.

It’s because he said that weird stuff. Obviously.

As far as she’d been aware, she really had only been watching him leave.

The moment she was aware she’d done it, though, she sensed her pulse accelerate and her cheeks warm.

In actuality, this was all just a “misunderstanding” that had been dragged into her thoughts. But since she had, in a way, fallen for her own trap, there was no way for her to coolly analyze herself from an objective viewpoint. She was caught in a psychological state similar to the suspension bridge effect.

To divert her thoughts away from her nonexistent “love,” Lina decided to think about something else, anything else. As a result, her mind was naturally drawn to her most recent question.

Tatsuya’s inexplicable proposition.

She thought again about why he’d said such a thing.

Had she looked like she was suffering through eliminating her countrymen who had been violated by a monster—had it been in her face or in her features?

If that was how it looked to him, he’d made a grave mistake.

Sure, it pained her to point a gun at one of her own.

…But giving them a peaceful sleep is better than letting them live as a monster.

Lina thought it was the more merciful option. She believed she was saving them.

Because she’d been taught that the dignity of a human, of a soul, was just that precious.

It was a difficult job, to be sure. But somebody had to do it.

She wasn’t about to flee from it.

If a magician with strong magic power fell to the demon road, the strongest magician, the Sirius, had to be the one to hunt him. In other words, only she could do it…

…Only me?

But her thoughts stumbled over something unexpected.

To eliminate magicians who had lost their mind without creating more victims. The mission was definitely most applicable to her, the strongest magician.

She’d never doubted that point—until now.

Now she knew that wasn’t necessarily true.

Even if she didn’t do it, those two would.

She didn’t have to go through this suffering, the bitter experience of guilt at killing her own countrymen—those two, from another nation, they could…

I see… That was why I was lost and impatient.

She felt like the haze lurking in her mind for close to a month now had suddenly cleared up.

Even if she didn’t do it, someone else would.

The discovery was unexpected for Lina.

She’d thought the future was set in stone, that she couldn’t change it. But now she knew she could choose. The path, which she’d always thought was straight, had suddenly branched out in front of her—and both hopes and anxieties came with it.

She’d finally made it out of one maze, and now her mind was in chaos.

Tatsuya was headed for where they’d left the two specimens, the parasites sealed successfully inside. But someone had beaten them there.

Two groups were staring each other down.

One wore all black, led by a man standing up straight, his face creased with wrinkles gained over many years.

The other was also in all black, but this one was led by a pretty girl wearing an extravagant dress.

They may have been staring each other down, but it wasn’t hostile. At least, the group the girl led wasn’t. That was probably because she didn’t have any hostile intent against the old man.

In fact, the girl looked upon him with a respectful gaze—on the surface anyway.

“Your Excellency Kudou, I consider it a great honor to meet you,” said the girl, walking out in front of the old man, bending at the waist in a refined curtsy. But while it may have been refined, it didn’t come off as chaste. The light in her eyes was too strong to call it that.

“My name is Ayako Kuroba. I am a member of the Yotsuba’s lowest ranks, charged with serving our family head, Maya.”

She lifted her head and smiled sweetly.

But that, of course, wasn’t enough to move Retsu Kudou. “A representative of Lady Yotsuba? No wonder you’re so levelheaded despite your age. You seem to know who I am. Or should I introduce myself?”

In front of associates he was close to, Kudou called her “Maya,” but officially, they were of equal rank, each the head of a family in the Ten Master Clans. Calling her Lady Yotsuba served to show that right now, he considered Ayako, young enough to be his granddaughter, an enemy of equal standing.

“No, I would never think to suggest something so rude.”

A light that could only be called deliberate shone in Kudou’s eyes. But even before that, Ayako’s sweet-but-fearless attitude didn’t crumble.

“Incidentally, Your Excellency, we don’t have very much time to spare, so there is one thing I would like to ask you about.”

One might call that attitude impetuous, but the Kudou elder didn’t show any signs of displeasure in particular. He didn’t necessarily think they didn’t have time, but he felt the same way in wanting to get this over with quickly.

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

After the elder nodded magnanimously, Ayako gave another theatrical curtsy, then looked up directly at him.

“With all due respect, I am given to understand that Your Excellency’s intent is to bring back these sealed monsters called parasites. But to tell you the truth, the errand I have been sent on by my family head is to also collect the sealed parasites.”

“Is it?”

The intensity and sharpness of the light in Kudou’s eyes increased.

Ayako, facing its full brunt, winced for just a moment before painting her expression over with a firm smile.

“…Fortunately, there are two sealed vessels here. Shall we each take one, Your Excellency?”

Maintaining her firm smile, Ayako looked right back at the glow in the elder’s eyes and waited for his answer.

Suddenly, Kudou broke out laughing.

Loudly, in amusement.

“Well, well… This really is something. I thought you were still only in middle school.”

Ayako had never told Kudou her age. With this statement, he was implying he’d investigated her before she’d even named herself.

But this time, Ayako showed no sign of disturbance. She, too, was of the mind-set that there was nothing strange about Retsu Kudou investigating the Yotsuba’s playing pieces, herself included.

She’d known the woman would appear here in person, so it would actually be stranger if he hadn’t learned at least that much.

“Very well. We’ll take the friendly approach and share the spoils evenly.”

“Thank you very much, Your Excellency.”

Ayako breathed a sigh of relief behind her poker face.

She didn’t overrate her own magic power. She wasn’t restricted to specific magic like Tatsuya was, but she wasn’t an all-around type like Miyuki, either. No, she was the kind of magician with very clear strengths and weaknesses. And her strengths didn’t really include direct close combat magic. She knew a fair match with a magician once called the trickiest in the world would leave her with little chance at victory.

She offered up a silent word of thanks for the coincidence that there were two prey.

And…

Thanks to you, Tatsuya, I’ll be able to finish this mission safely.

She’d never gotten Tatsuya’s word that he’d help, and she’d never even requested his help in the first place. But that didn’t stop her from thinking that on the sly.

In Tatsuya’s arms, Miyuki was curled up and stiff.

Today, for once, no matter how much she pleaded, Tatsuya wouldn’t let her out of his arms. She wasn’t particularly petite for a woman, so she wasn’t a featherweight. No matter how much Tatsuya had built his body, she’d have to feel heavy after all this time. But his arms never twitched. In fact, he carried her so smoothly he never even rocked her, despite all the dips and bumps in the forest ground.

Given their normal behavior, maybe it would seem more natural for Miyuki to be the one who aggressively pursued physical affection. However, Miyuki wasn’t even clinging to Tatsuya’s neck—she had her hands balled into fists in front of her chest, trying to hold in the embarrassment.

The silence was painful.

It wasn’t just difficult, it was hurting her chest.

At this rate, she thought her breathing might stop and her heart might burst—someone else would definitely have sighed and said “you’re exaggerating,” but Miyuki herself was at a significant loss, desperately racking her heated-up brain over something to talk about.

“Brother, about Lina…”

And that was the topic that came out as a result.

Tatsuya put a lot of thought into Lina. More so than, at least, the kind of consideration one would show a friend.

She understood that, so deep down, Miyuki didn’t really want to bring up the topic of Lina in front of her brother.

But that was the only topic she could think of at the moment.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think…she’ll take what you said to heart?”

Besides, Miyuki had Lina on her mind now, too.

“Who knows? I certainly don’t. I mean, I’m not her.”

Miyuki caught a glimpse of self-deprecation somewhere in his tone of voice. Maybe he felt like he was meddling in someone else’s business.

Of course, Miyuki knew that her brother’s words had been more than meddling. Even from her point of view, the kindhearted and impulsive Lina wasn’t cut out to be a soldier. Perhaps it wasn’t her place to mind that, but when she looked at Lina, she seemed incredibly endangered.

“I’m sure Lina has her own things to deal with. She’s certainly not the only one who can’t get herself to the place she wants.”

“But you still offered to help her anyway… Why?”

“What do you mean?”

Miyuki was aware that the conversation had suddenly taken an unexpected turn. And that now was her only chance to stop.

But she didn’t stop.

“Brother… Why do you try to help Lina? Do you…have special feelings for her?”

Tatsuya’s eyes widened at his sister’s words but really only for a moment.

“You seem to be misunderstanding a few things…”

There was an air about him, as though he was smiling painfully. But his actual expression was a serious one. He seemed, at least, to be faithfully trying to answer his sister’s question.

“You make it sound like it’s only her. But this is the first time I’ve had any connection to someone in a position like Lina’s. Before now, anyone from the military has been a lot older than me, and they were all people who had chosen it as a life path.”

He neatly unraveled each misunderstanding, one by one.

“The feelings I have for Lina aren’t the kind you’re thinking. To put it bluntly, I just thought leaving the Stars would be better for her future. Not just leaving the military, either, but getting her to move here. The best option would be to have her naturalize as a Japanese citizen.”

She couldn’t sense any lies from his words. They could sense each other from this distance of zero. If there had been the slightest falsehood in what her brother was saying, she was confident she’d have noticed it.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t sympathize with her. In a way, we’re a lot alike. Or maybe I should say we belong to the same category of person.”

Tatsuya’s eyes gazed into the distance.

“Neither one of us had any real choice in where we ended up today. You could call me enrolling at First High a choice I forced them to let me have, but I don’t think Lina even had a little choice like that.”

His eyes were still directed at Miyuki, but he was focusing on a point farther away.

“I was never given a choice, but one day, I’ll make one and choose for myself. I’ll throw away the role assigned to me and jump off the stage I was placed on. I figured I’d offer help out of friendship if Lina wanted the same thing, but…”

Tatsuya stumbled over his words, then returned his focus to Miyuki and gave a harsh smile.

“I guess it was none of my…business?”

There was a good reason he stammered there.

Miyuki, who had until now been making herself small in his arms, had wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him so tightly he was having trouble breathing.

Without thinking, he let her go. But he didn’t just drop her there; he let her gently down to the ground, an unconscious display of skill that had been trained into him.

Even after her feet reached the ground, her arms remained wrapped around his neck.

“That isn’t true… I’m sure that one day—no, in the near future, your consideration will reach her heart.”

Tatsuya felt his sister’s words seeping directly into his chest.

“Because this incident must have made Lina doubt her current self. She may be a little simple, but she’s smart. It is simply not possible that after such close dealings with you she wouldn’t have any doubts at all.”

“Simple? That’s pretty mean.”

Miyuki lifted her face, and Tatsuya moved his hands to her shoulders.

The siblings grinned, then began to walk, side by side.

Pixie, who had read the mood (?) and turned into a literal decoration, silently followed after them.

When they saw it, even the siblings’ heartwarming mood was forced to change.

The spot where they’d first sealed the parasites was an empty husk. Someone had taken the two away.

“I’m sorry, Tatsuya… I didn’t mean to take my eyes off them.”

“…Tatsuya, I’m really sorry.”

“Tatsuya, please don’t blame Shibata or Mitsui. I can vouch for them—they weren’t being careless. Even I didn’t notice the sealed ‘vessels’ being taken away. They were my seals, too…”

“All three of you, stop blaming yourselves. I don’t mind at all.”

From the communicator, he heard a despondent voice, a voice seething with self-loathing and a voice that sounded frustrated, respectively. Tatsuya made an effort to respond cheerfully.

“Tatsuya…”

The voice of admiration he got in return, for some reason, was probably due to a misunderstanding. Tatsuya’s attitude wasn’t an act out of consideration for them. He really didn’t mind it much at all.

…He did feel like sighing, though.

“They may have been snatched away from right under our noses, but that only means whoever did it was one step better than us. I actually hadn’t thought much about what to do with them after we caught them, and it’s not worth obsessing over it anyway.”

Like Tatsuya said, they hadn’t made a concrete plan for what to do after capturing them. They’d just figured they’d leave the sealed parasites to Mikihiko’s family without thinking at all about how to use them.

In that sense, it seemed more efficient that the parasites had been taken away. They wouldn’t do anything careless like letting the parasites accidentally escape.

Still, though… Was this what they were after all along?

“Brother?”

She’d probably misunderstood why he’d fallen silent. When Miyuki questioned him out of consideration, Tatsuya waved his hand to indicate it didn’t matter.

Miyuki understood from the way he was acting that he had an idea who the culprits were. She figured he’d used his information-tracing power to identify the culprits.

And to be sure, Tatsuya had used his “vision.” As a result, he now had a general idea of what had happened here.

But more importantly, there was a message left here for him from one of the “culprits.” That was the main thing mentally exhausting him.

A gust of wind blew through, whipping up dead leaves that hadn’t yet decomposed.

Within it, Tatsuya, who had good eyesight in the dark, caught a glimpse of black wings, probably belonging to a crow.

By the time Tatsuya met up with the “Leorika” pair, Naotsugu and the Batto-tai had both finished withdrawing.

They thanked each other for their hard work and, neither of them prying very deeply into the other’s affairs, set back on the road home.

He left Pixie as she was in the school garage.

To enter the building, they had to take the time to jump back over the fence first, then go around to the front gate. Neither Erika nor Leo backed out, though.

The four of them met up with Mikihiko’s group, and in a cluster of seven they left the school behind them.

Considering their group’s size and the time, they were obviously stopped at the gates when they went to leave. But with an excuse they’d prepared beforehand—an experiment for a ritual magic that needed to be carried out at this time—and the power in the girls’ radiant eyes, they successfully escaped without much questioning.

And that was how this long night came to a close.

At the time, Tatsuya had no way of knowing that tonight’s events would be the opening of a new history of a battle between man, demon, and monster fought in the shadows of society.