My Third Year as a Receptionist Lady: The Tournament, Part Two

The schedule of events for the third day changes. The matches that should be fought on the platforms, floating up in the air in the center of the stadium, are instead being fought on the stadium floor, because the floating platforms aren’t working properly for some reason.

If they aren’t fixed tonight, tomorrow the next round of fights will be carried out in the same place. Most of the spectators, while disappointed at the minor inconvenience, are just happy that they’ve not been canceled. I smile as I hear their excited chatter when they come to buy today’s tickets.

“The fourth match!”

Today, a bunch of people are again scrambling all over each other to push inside the entrance. Well before the match starts, we’ve already made a good deal of money. Right before the fighting begins, however, the crush of people lets up, and we receptionists are again on standby duty, waiting for any mid-match stragglers who want tickets.

The match begins.

Ms. Pidget and the other two Court receptionists who were working competitor reception the first day are working with the teams on the field again today, verifying the correct teams are fighting, arranging upcoming matchups, and marking down when teams fly “assist flags.” They certainly are moving around a lot more than we are.

Assist flags are special flags teams are allowed to fly once, and once only, in today’s or any of the upcoming fights. The twenty flags all have different effects on the match, and were selected by the teams in the order they arrived at the floating sphere yesterday.

The effects of the assist flags are all different. For example, if your team suddenly is at a tactical disadvantage relative to the opposing team, you could use a flag like “Stop time for your opponents for ten seconds,” or one that allows you to summon a “helper.” They all allow teams in a tight spot to escape danger, and the fact that they all have different effects means that each of the matches from the third day on is always bound to have a surprise.

Harré arrived third yesterday, so they picked their assist flag third. The first had been the Knights of Doran, not those of Vestanu. I’m really hoping our Guild team can knock Doran’s Knights down a peg or two. In fact, I really just want them to be the champions.

The announcer’s voice coming out of the simager is, just like yesterday, full of pep.

While it’s not the most likely matchup, there is the possibility that Harré will be fighting the Knight’s Order today.

Only the team names for the first four matches have been announced so far, and we won’t know if they’re fighting each other today until right before it happens.

The fourth match happening on screen right now is being fought between two foreign teams. For this match, competitors only fight mages of the same magic type. The giant clock-like display board floating above the stadium indicates which types of mages are fighting where.

There are three bouts for each match, with two types fighting per bout. Should the symbols for Earth and Lightning appear on the clockboard, those two types from both teams work in pairs for their match. All team members fight once per match, and the first team to secure two bout victories wins the match.

“The winners of match four are the foam of the sea, Lost Avantio!”

Each bout goes on until one side is no longer able to fight, and healing magic is forbidden during the matches.

“Now for our next match, number five, the competitors will be—”

Being unable to use healing magic means the key to winning a fight is inflicting as much damage as possible while keeping your own injuries to a minimum.

“Harré’s Guild for Sorcerers versus the Royal Order of Knights of Doran!”

“What?”

On the clockboard, the matched teams’ names are written: “HARRÉ” and “THE KNIGHT’S ORDER.”

“Whaaaaat?!”

“The matchups are done automagically, right? So it’s not like anyone planned on them facing off today. Still, it is a little crazy to make those two teams fight each other this early in the tournament... They’re both ranked really highly.” Mr. Yakkurin frowns slightly. “I wish they’d do something to fix that matchup system of theirs.”

This is insane. To think that they’d actually be matched up on the first day of team battles? If they lose now, they can’t go on to the next match...

“Let’s get started! For the first bout!”

No matter what my feelings are on the subject, the match is going to happen.

“Lightning and Wind!”

Lightning and Wind. That means Ms. Köln and Ms. Moldina will be fighting two of the men from the Knights team.

The Harré team uses a combo attack: tornadoes charged with lightning bolts are sent hurtling right at the enemy, aiming to knock them out of the fight. They manage to push their way across the field, closing the Knights into a corner—but before they can land a finishing blow, the Knights are jeered into action by their comrades watching from the sidelines: “Oi, you two laggards! Aren’t you supposed to be men?” These words, and their implied meaning—two men shouldn’t be losing to two women, heaven forbid (ugh)—spur the Knights into action, and they forcefully fend off the Harré team’s assault, turn the tide of the battle, and win the bout.

The bout lasts as long as either team can fight, which means that the fighting only stops once my two fellow receptionists are rendered unconscious, fallen on the ground. I see Zozo on the simager screen hurrying over to cast healing spells on them.

“That was rough.”

“What’s gonna happen if Rockmann’s fighting in the next bout, I wonder...”

“The next fighter types are Fire and Ice!”

Right on target.

“...”

“...”

Both Mr. Yakkurin and I are speechless.

It’s not like we don’t believe in our guild’s team—in the previous bout, our pair even managed to knock one of those Knights unconscious. One of the commentators had even remarked on the uncertainty of the outcome, saying, “Harré is full of talented mages, so it’ll be a close battle between them and the Knights. At this point, I can’t tell who’s going to win.”

Once he gets involved in the fighting, however, it’s a whole ’nother story.

“From the Knights of Doran, we have our very own Fire Mage Alois Rockmann, and the Ice Witch Muishia Heldoran.”

The bout is moments away from beginning. From one side of the stadium, Rockmann and a woman I don’t know step out onto the field. The roaring cheers from the crowd are unlike any so far. The spectators must be proud to see their own Knights out on the field.

“From Harré’s Guild for Sorcerers, we have the Fire Mage Bandello Dorikki and the Ice Witch Deen Proisis!”

Our team members step out onto the field. Ms. Deen and Mr. Bandello fill the entire screen as they wave to the crowd above. Once the match starts, both of them slowly back away from the center of the stadium in order to assess how their opponents are going to launch their attack.

I really do hope they win this bout.

“Sir Alois—!”

“Give us a win, dear Sir—!”

Other teams are watching the competitors from their seats located at both ends of the field. I catch glimpses of them in the simager screen, all quiet and obviously full of anticipation for the fight to come. Because the fights kick up dust and dirt every which way while they’re happening, a protective charm shield is cast between the field and the spectators. The other members of the fighting teams quickly retreat back to their seats to watch their four comrades do battle.

“Harré is the first to make a move!”

Mr. Bandello disappears from view. He must’ve used a Coat of Many Colors spell.

Rockmann and his teammate, however, haven’t budged in the slightest; they’re just watching and waiting to see how Harré intends to press the attack.

“That invisibility spell of his is quite good.”

Or so says Rockmann, but he hasn’t let himself so much as blink as he stares at his opponents. It seems like he’s watching something hovering in the air, near where Mr. Bandello disappeared—the simager can’t pick it up, apparently. Flames swirl in his palms. He summons Yuri, and the instant he does so, he sends balls of fire hurtling right where he’s watching.

Mr. Bandello dispels his Cloak of Many Colors and is then hit by the fireballs—or was it the other way around? Things are happening too fast for me to keep track. Then he tosses up a charm shield to protect himself against further fireballs that come pelting. Hold on, why isn’t he attacking Ms. Deen too? Is he really that set on not harming women that he won’t even fight one in an official duel? Rockmann’s eyes never drift from Mr. Bandello.

Naturally, Ms. Deen is fighting Ms. Muishia Heldoran while all this is going on. Both of them are Ice Witches.

“All the way from the Kingdom of Maljives, Muishia Heldoran graduated with top marks from Doran’s Royal School of Magic last year. She transferred to the Royal School at age fifteen, but in the short years since then she’s proven herself to be an adept user of Ice Magic, and is extremely famous back in her home country! Plus she’s incredibly beautiful!”

“She’s fighting alongside my own cousin, Alois! He’s said to be an Ancient-class mage, you know. This is the fight to watch!”

Muishia Heldoran. I’d never heard of her when I was back in school, but apparently she’s rather famous in the southern countries. This is my first time hearing of an Ice mage who’s famous for their “adept” use of magic, and as a fellow Ice witch I’m rather keen to see how she fights.

“Ancient-class mages” are those with extremely high levels of magic, far beyond the average person’s abilities. As far as I know, the only two mages commonly referred to as “Ancient-class” are the Earth-type Mr. Borizurie and Rockmann.

Ms. Heldoran stands in front of Ms. Deen, laughing right in her face as she says, “I’ve never seen a single Ice mage more powerful than me, or any Fire mage more powerful than Captain Alois. This bout is as good as ours!” With a proud, haughty look on her face, Ms. Heldoran the Headstrong tosses her dark, waist-length hair to one side and juts her chin out at her opponent.

She definitely has confidence in her own abilities. Perhaps she’s never lost to anyone. I don’t mind someone having confidence, but what I can’t stand is the way she’s so condescending. Sure, she’s beautiful, but Ms. Deen is super-duper beautiful too. Commentators, you’re so biased that you might as well have little horns growing out of your heads. Sure you’re not demons? Go, Ms. Deen, go!

Next to where Rockmann and Mr. Bandello are dueling, the Ice-types move to attack. Ms. Deen crafts several spears of ice out of thin air, sending them flying in a random burst of barbed crystal. Muishia Heldoran is undaunted by this volley and freezes the ground around her, creating a protective cage of stalagmites that look sharp as needles.

“Are you alright? Hold on, we’ll get you to the first aid tent right away!”

From out of the corner of my eye, I see a woman being carried out of the stadium entrance by one of the Knights. I look away from the simager screen to see that she looks pretty ill. She’s so pale. “What happened?”

“It appears that she collapsed from anemia, and that healing spells aren’t working for her, so I’ve got to take her to the first aid tent... Hey! Someone! Come help us!”

“Deen!”

“Ah—! Ah...”

I look back up at the monitor. Mr. Bandello is yelling out for Ms. Deen.

“Deen Proisis from Harré’s Guild for Sorcerers has fallen! But perhaps she’s not injured, but just feeling ill...?”

“Goodness me, that looks like anemia for sure.”

Ms. Deen has collapsed in front of the female Knight. She’d just been fighting her off not ten seconds ago—what happened while I wasn’t looking?

Mr. Bandello breaks off his fight with Rockmann and runs over and picks her up in his arms. He must’ve thought she wouldn’t be able to recover on her own. He carries her off to the edge of the stadium and sets her down gently on the grass.

On screen, I can see the Guild team huddling to discuss what to do next. A minute passes—and then I see Zozo raise the assist flag high.

“They’re going to use their flag!”

Ms. Zozo hands over the white flag to one of the referees. “We invoke the right to summon an ‘alternate’!”

“Alternates must be of the same type as the fallen mage. Do you intend to summon someone off the field?”

Harré’s using their assist flag. They could’ve waited until tomorrow to use it, but I guess they’ve got no choice given the situation. After all, if they lose now, they won’t be able to even fight tomorrow, let alone win the championship.

The flag Harré chose is an “alternate” assist, which is the perfect flag for this sort of situation, despite how unfortunate it all is.

“I hope Ms. Deen’s going to be okay...” I whisper, worried as I watch the screen. If she’s feeling anemic, she can’t use magic, which means she was probably forcing herself to stay standing, all the way up to the moment she passed out.

“Hel, what’s going on with you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re turning transparent!”

One of the Royal Court receptionists looks back and forth between me and the simager. “Ms. Hel—you couldn’t be—”

I couldn’t be what, exactly? I don’t find out, because the next instant I’m somewhere else entirely.

“Harré has used their ‘alternate’ assist!”

Mr. Yakkurin and the two Court Receptionists aren’t anywhere in sight. What happened to our nice cold cask of tea?

“GO KNIGHTS, GO KNIGHTS!”

“NICE ONE, HELDORAN!”

All around me are the spectators, staring down at me from their seats. I definitely didn’t see on the simagers how the crowd was reacting to the fights, but now that I can...gulp.

I realize that Ms. Deen is right in front of me and looking extremely ill. Zozo’s holding her in her arms. Behind them are Mr. Alkes and the rest of the Harré team, as well as the other competitors in their seats, like Mr. Borizurie and the Knights of Vestanu. All of them, watching me.

“Huh?!”

I find myself sitting down in the center of the stadium grounds.

“The alternate appears to be a blue-haired woman wearing a white uniform! The match shall go on!”

Spectators all around me are cheering—but not for Harré. Jeering, more like it. Why do they gotta hit me when I’m down? Dumbstruck, the words of the commentators echo in my ears. Alternate? Blue hair? White uniform?

Left, right, I glance around, seeking a woman bearing that description. Wait, they’re talking about me, aren’t they? I bet I look completely ridiculous, sitting down in the middle of the fight, slack-jawed. I cringe at the thought.

“Isn’t that Ms. Hel?!”

“Hey—! Ms. Hel! Get up and fight!”

Did someone just say my name? I stand up to get a better look. My eyes dart over to the nearest spectator section. There, standing and cheering for me, are the pharmacist Mr. Petros and his friend Mr. Marco. Old ladies who work my favorite vegetable stalls at the market are there too, clapping and smiling at me. They must’ve taken the day off.

“No matter who my opponent is, I’ll still win!”

Right when I turn around to see who’s yelling at me, I’m sent tumbling back to the ground.

—KaSHING!

I’m kneeling on the ground, holding the Dare Labdos sideways over my chest—I’ve just blocked a blow from an Ice sword that took a swipe at me. My mace and the sword grind against each other for a few moments as I fight back, making my entire arm vibrate. I can feel the force behind the sword pushing my whole body down into the ground.

“You got some quick reflexes, don’t you?”

While I’d been facing Zozo, the lady Knight Muishia Heldoran had attacked from behind. Her long black hair falls to brush against my face and neck as she glowers down at me. Our eyes meet. I try to push my mace up to gain a bit of space, but then she forces me back down with her sword, leering all the while as if I’m helpless beneath her sword. Well, this is certainly uncomfortable. Before I break eye contact with her, however, the dark green gleam in her eyes shifts from merely belligerent to pointedly aggressive.

“Who do you think you are, acting all familiar like that with him all the time?!”

Excuse me? Who? What did I do now?

I can’t keep fighting like this. I’d been forced into a kneel by her sudden blow, but I’ve had enough. An explosion of anger rips through me that tenses my whole core—I can do this. Slowly but surely, I stand.

This is—this is just—!

“WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON HERE?!” I scream out at everyone on the Harré team. To say that I am “out of place” standing here in the arena would be a dramatic understatement.

It’s definitely all because of that damn assist flag. I brace the mace against her sword and, with all my might, parry the blade away before retreating.

GAHHHH! Why?! My breath is heaving with frustration as I shout desperately over at Zozo. She yells back. “Hey, don’t blame me! There are so many reasons why the only person we thought could win this bout for us was you!”

“So many reasons?” What kind of reasons, exactly? If it’s because I’m powerful enough to take on Rockmann, why not just say so?! Clearly you were thinking of something else... I glare at all the Harré team members.

My frustration dissipates, however, when I hear Mr. Alkes say, “We all decided it should be you!” Well, that’s certainly nice to hear. I give them a reassuring nod. I’ll do my best.

Mr. Bandello, who hasn’t yet returned to his fight with Rockmann, holds out his left hand to me. “I’m really glad you’re here to help me out with this.” I take his hand and give it a squeeze, determined. Wait—is it alright for me to be fighting here? Doesn’t this mean I’ve basically just abandoned my receptionist duties at the spectator entrance? Aren’t I just playing hooky from work?!

“But!” I yell, “I’m supposed to be working right now!”

“Well if you finish this up quick, you can go right back! Give it your best shot!”

What she’s really saying, then, is that I should “stop complaining and knock ’em dead!” And I know I’m not imagining that, either—just look at that expression on Zozo’s face!

“Nanalie, behind you!” Mr. Bandello cries out. I sense the threat looming behind me, instantly summon Lala, and all three of us go soaring up into the sky.

I take a peek back at where we’d been standing. Several sharp silver ice spears are stabbing into the ground. Oh, that would’ve been painful. We would’ve turned into human pincushions had we stayed a moment longer.

Ms. Heldoran primes up another spell as she watches us fly through the air above her. Next to her stands Rockmann, who had until moments ago been fighting with Mr. Bandello. As I look at him, he looks at me, our eyes locked on to one another. He has a calm, somewhat displeased expression on his face... Maybe I’m just imagining he’s in a bad mood. He usually has that face on whenever I see him.

Regardless of how he feels about it, my appearance on the field means that now I have the chance to fight him. Am I lucky to have this chance...? Or horribly unlucky...?

“Harré, how long you plan on running away—?”

“Go down there and fight—!”

Excuse me? Running away?

“Mr. Bandello...”

“What’s up?”

“Let’s return to the field.”

“O-Okay...”

The angry roars of the crowd pressure us to land back on the ground, standing in front of our two opponents. I shrink Lala, place her on my shoulder, and then thrust the Dare Labdos into the ground.

They said we were “running away”—and they weren’t wrong. I’ve got no room to complain if the spectators call us out on what we were doing; in their minds, we were wasting valuable match time that could be spent fighting. Go ahead, say we ran away from the fight: I won’t complain, I won’t argue.

But never, ever, call me a coward. I have my pride, I have my dignity—and I shall not sit by and do nothing when spectators scream and besmirch my honor.

“Ha! Run, run, run, as fast as you can, Team Harré! We aren’t about to lose to the likes of you. Captain, allow me to take care of the Ice-type.”

Two versus two. Ms. Heldoran declares her superiority so loudly I’m sure all the simagers are replaying her words right now.

Whoa there, Miss Beauty—you shut your mouth about us ‘running away’ now, you hear?

Rockmann, of course, merely smiles at her overconfidence. “Sure you won’t lose? In that case, I’ll leave her to you.” Why are they the ones choosing and we are the ones being chosen? Quite a condescending lot, these Knights.

“Karaza Kionostibas!” (Avalanche.)

In the midst of my irritation, Heldoran sends attack spell after attack spell hurtling across the field at me, as if trying to make up for the time lost to us flying on Lala. She’s dead-set on making this a one-on-one duel between the two of us.

Hail speedy enough to pierce my body through pelts down at me. I distance myself from Bandello, whirl the Dare Labdos overhead to scatter the ice projectiles—only to be assaulted from the side by a massive wave of snow.

I dodge, but the snow doesn’t stop. It curls and twists into the shape of a dragon, sinuous in the air, charging around to create a polar vortex of chill as it snaps and grinds its well-toothed maw at my face. But I’m not the type to just sit there and let my head get ripped off by a Snow Dragon.

I place the ring finger on my right hand against my lips. “Puneuma pagos.” (Ice Breath.)

I take a half step back and fill my lungs with as much air as possible—then blow it all back out, right at the Dragon. The sparkling ice crystals laced in my exhalation fly fast as a spell from a Wind mage. With just one breath, I freeze the Snow Dragon cold, its every movement stopped as it crackles and creaks there in the prison of my making.

And now, for the finishing touch... I snap. The Dragon disintegrates into a million tiny crystals.

“The Snow Dragon has collapsed! What will Muishia Heldoran from the Knight’s Order of Doran do next?!”

The commentators’ voices had been perfectly clear via the simager, but now that I’m actually fighting myself, I can only catch bits and pieces of what they’re saying.

There are ice shards all over the ground. Some of these must be from her earlier fight with Ms. Deen. Blocks of ice materialize at my feet and quickly grow upwards. She must be trying to trap me.

My first instinct is to leap away from the ice, but then it would look like I’m running again. The crowds wouldn’t like that. No matter what, I have to make sure I don’t make Harré look bad here.

“Braggiarms Megisto!” (Strongest arms.)

I brandish my arms about, slamming my fists hard against the frozen ground.

—Ka-booooom!

The ice and the ground itself cracks open. I send my magic racing through the blocks of ice, readying for my attack. They multiply in size, rippling in waves as I send them crashing after Ms. Heldoran. She’s sent flying to the edge of the arena under the force of my assault—but she’s not knocked out. From the way she pushes herself back up on her feet, however, I can tell that I’ve injured her, if only slightly.

I’m not about to go easy on her just because she’s a woman. Perhaps that may sound cruel to some, but she intended to kill me with that last attack of hers—I’ve got to be prepared to unleash similarly lethal force. But why did she look so intensely aggressive when we were facing off with each other, anyway?

Whatever. Sorry, girl, it’s a bit cheap for me to do this when you’re injured, but before you can cast another spell— I twist my fingers, causing the ice threads I’ve laid into the ground to twist around her in turn.

“What are these?!”

We can’t have you casting any more spells. I send my ice threads twisting around her thumbs, her forefingers, and all the others as well, trapping and freezing them in little ice cocoons. The tentacle-like threads slipping and curling around her extremities appears to trigger some deep fear in her, sending her moaning and screaming. Hmmmm... I send several more threads to her head, weaving together to form a multi-layered gag that’ll prevent her from incanting any spells.

That should do it. Blades and heat aren’t going to cut through those, that’s for sure—I learned that thread spell directly from one of Harré’s Master Ice Sorcerers.

“Whatever could this be? In just moments, Heldoran’s been rendered totally immobile...”

“With her fingers frozen and unable to cast magic, she might as well be knocked out...”

“Ah, we’ve just now received new information on the Harré team: the blue-haired alternate woman is Nanalie Hel. She graduated the same year as Alois Rockmann—he was the valedictorian, and she was the salutatorian.”

Whoa, there. I just heard something really nasty.

“Ngh!”

Distracted, I don’t have time to avoid the projectile that slams into my right side. I fall to the ground again, this time flat on my back.

“Ouch ouch ouch...” I cradle my head in my hands and look to see what just hit me. It’s none other than Mr. Bandello himself.

“Oh no! Mr. Bandello, please hang on!”

I’d been so focused on my battle with Ms. Heldoran that I haven’t been paying any attention to how the Fire-types’ battle was progressing.

Mr. Bandello doesn’t look like he’s getting up any time soon. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Rockmann paying me no mind at all as he hops on Yuri and flies over to where Ms. Heldoran is trapped. Seems like he’s worried about her leg injury. Is he such a playboy that he’d abandon a fight to get his hands on her?

Since Mr. Bandello doesn’t seem like he’s going to be recovering anytime soon, I decide to take him back over to where my Harré colleagues are watching. Once I see that his cheeks regain a bit of their natural flush following some healing magic performed by Zozo, I head back to the center of the stadium.

Rockmann appears to be trying to free Ms. Heldoran from her ice threads by melting them. The flames he sends spiraling around her don’t seem to be having much effect, as expected.

“You won’t be able to get her out of there by doing that.”

“These are quite durable, aren’t they? I hadn’t thought you’d lose to her, but look—there’s not a scratch on you! You’re rather durable yourself.”

“Without healing magic, even a ‘scratch’ could be fatal. Anyway, I’d never let anyone carve me up like a bunny-bird at dinner.”

At some point he apparently gives up on trying to cut through my threads. He steps away from her to face me. I may have defeated her, but unless I knock him out too, I haven’t won the match.

“Sir Alois—!”

“Don’t let Hel beat you—!”

To literally no one’s surprise, there are a lot of aristocrats rooting for Alois up in the stands. Their voices are particularly loud in my ears as I stare at him.

That said, they aren’t the only ones cheering. “BEAT HIM UP, NANALIE!!” My whole body feels a bit lighter as I hear some of my commoner friends shout my name.

We’ve had this relationship for almost ten years—I don’t know if ‘relationship’ isn’t the right word—but no matter how you describe this, we’ve definitely been involved in each other’s lives for a long time.

“At last! The time has come for me to OFFICIALLY CRUSH YOU!”

“You do know that the loser is the one who usually says something like that?”

“Shut up, dummy.” I put a finger under my eye and pull downward to creep him out, sticking out my tongue for good measure. Look at me! I’m you, dummy! The whole gesture is practically instinctive at this point. Nobody does this better than I do. Nobody.

Without warning, our fight begins.

“Froga!” (Blaze.)

“Nipas!” (Blizzard.)

Countless fireballs come flying at me, met with my ice boulders. Explosions all over the place.

I freeze his seemingly unlimited supply of fireballs; my ice is destroyed. I use a magic circle to open a yawning pit beneath him; he sends massive fists of fire to grind me into the ground. A thick charm field of pure heat traps me, making me feel as though I’m about to be charred to a crisp. I try freezing him solid and shattering him to smithereens—but he’s predicted my every move, and melts my ice with a magical flourish.

Why? Why am I always stopped just before I can finish him off?

Rockmann pulls out that familiar long golden staff of his, thrusts it into the ground and yells: “Froga Drakohn!” (Blaze Dragon.) A red-blooded dragon spewing flames from its mouth materializes above him.

Ha! I’m not about to cower before that. I cast a magic circle of my own. “Kristalo Drakohn!” (Frost Dragon.)

Flaring out from the bottom tip of the Dare Labdos is a silver magic circle that grows to cover half of the stadium. Out of the shining light of that circle emerges an enormous crystal dragon with beautiful white wings.

The dragons growl and flash their wings, snapping and chomping in attempts to shred each other’s throats. My Frost Dragon lunges to crush Rockmann himself but is repeatedly blocked by its fiery opponent. Within moments, both Dragons have crushed each other under a mutually destructive barrage of blows.

I feel my face twisted into an expression of pure bitterness. How in the world am I gonna knock this guy down?

“Selmokrasfia!” (Absolute Heat.)

Rockmann turns his palms to face the sky and little balls of light swirl into existence. Behind him, blue and purple and black and green, all mixed together, is something I’ve only seen in textbooks or history books, something that looks like deep space.

The heavens with that conjured space spin clockwise, and flickering fragments of light flow from it to Rockmann’s palms, collecting and growing larger and larger, tossing up a building wind that grows stronger with the size of the light.

That is one of the most, if not the most, sophisticated spells in all of Fire-type magic. While I’ve studied other magic types’ unique techniques, I’m not completely sure how destructive it’ll end up, but there’s no doubting the fact that it presents an obvious danger to me. Power enough to burn me a million times over, leaving not even a trace of ash behind.

The only thing I can do against it is use that Ice-type spell. If he wants to play this game, well, I’m not about to back out now.

“Apolito Miden.” (Absolute Zero.)

A dark night sky wraps itself around me. The glittering stars above me begin spinning faster and faster, fusing to become one brilliant point of blue light, growing larger and larger.

“Alois Rockmann: he’s not only the Royal Mage of our Kingdom of Doran, but also Captain of the Order of Knight’s First Platoon...and yet she persists in resisting him. Could she be—?”

“She herself would be worthy of the title ‘Ancient-class.’”

Suddenly, Rockmann stops moving. He, unbelievably, dispels his magic—looking lost, even.

This is it—this is the best opening for an attack that I could ask for. But...why doesn’t it feel right? My brows furrow with suspicion as I look around. I can’t explain why, but my eyes are drawn to where Ms. Heldoran remains trapped on the ground. Those threads may not break easily, but that doesn’t mean they’re unbreakable—I should probably strengthen them to prevent a two-versus-one situation.

But something’s off about her too.

“Muishia?”

Rockmann follows my gaze to look over at her. He runs over to Ms. Heldoran, patting her cheeks in an attempt to rouse her.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s gone anemic.”

She’s so pale. I cancel my spell as well, agreeing to an unspoken truce with Rockmann as I hurry over to where she lies.

“Whatever could have happened? They dispelled their attacks at the same time...ah, we’re hearing that Muishia Heldoran has fallen.”

“The atmosphere inside the whole stadium has been odd for a little while now. Several more cases of anemia have been discovered among competitors and spectators alike.”

The commentators’ words send the stadium into a frenzy of whispers.

I snap my fingers, and the ice threads disappear. Gently, I ease Ms. Heldoran down to lay on the ground.

“The ground’s cold,” Rockmann says. “Put her here.” He gathers Ms. Heldoran in his arms and lightly touches his hand to her forehead, beginning a healing spell.

“Ms. Heldoran’s gone anemic as well? Don’t you think that’s too many people at once?”

I kneel down next to Rockmann and tell him that even before Ms. Deen from Harré’s team had gone anemic, I’d seen on the simager screen several others who’d fallen from the same affliction. He seems like he’s already heard this from the other Knights—but still, he looks concerned as he watches Ms. Heldoran.

She looks just as pale as she did before he started healing her. She looks like she’s in pain.

“Ms. Heldoran? Are you—”

“Ah... Oh my...that feels better.”

Ms. Heldoran notices who it is that’s peering down at her—me—and grabs my hand. I press her cold skin against my chest, trying to warm her up. Slowly, she starts smiling a bit, looking a bit more lively than before. That aggressive look she’d had on her face is now completely gone, but its absence just makes me worry more.

“It’s strange,” she whispers. “I wonder why.”

“Rockmann’s healing magic is probably helping you feel better,” I say.

She shakes her head. “It doesn’t feel like healing magic. When you—” her eyes focus on mine “—when you held my hand, I felt like I could breathe again.”

“What?”

“It’s true,” Rockmann says, “look, her skin isn’t so pale anymore.”

A faint blush returns to color her pale, nearly blue cheeks. He’s right—she does look somewhat better than she did moments ago. Still, I can’t be the reason for that. Rockmann’s healing magic must’ve kicked in at the same time she held my hand.

“No, it can’t be me,” I say, letting go of her hand. Strangely enough, Ms. Heldoran grows pale again. How can this be?! I take her hand once more, but this time, her condition doesn’t improve. So it was just a coincidence after all. Hold on, where was her hand before? I held it close to my upper chest, somewhere near the base of the hood on my uniform. Could that be why...?

No, it can’t be...can it? I remove the hood from my uniform and wrap it snugly around the back of Ms. Heldoran’s head, like a pillow.

“That feels nice...”

Rockmann looks up at me, sharply. “What’s happening here?”

“My uniform is called the ‘Dress of Nullification.’ It nullifies any spells that are used to attack the wearer...”

Oh, that’s right: I was wearing this the whole time I was fighting her—of course I’m not injured. Did I cheat? Was the only reason I beat her was because I had this on? Ugh. I feel awful.

With a quick flick of my fingers, I change out of my Dress of Nullification and into my normal, comfortable blue dress. Gently, I lay the Dress of Nullification over Ms. Heldoran.

“If the Dress is what’s causing her to feel better, what could it be nullifying?”

Rockmann narrows his eyes at my question.

“Come here.”

“Huh...?”

What’s that voice? I’m not dreaming, I’m not even asleep. The voice that’s caused me so many restless nights recently reverberates inside my head.

“What’s the matter?”

“I...I hear a voice.”

“A voice?”

The very instant Rockmann speaks, a screeching sound ricochets around the stadium. All of the spectators and competitors cover their ears with their hands and squeeze their eyes shut against the horrible noise. It’s not going away—The stadium itself is shaking, no, cracking, like there’s some great earthquake.

“What’s going on here?!”

“What, indeed... Something’s trying to break through the barrier surrounding the Isle.”

Rockmann lets go of Ms. Heldoran’s arm and places his golden staff against the ground. A magical circle appears, one that will strengthen the barrier. I keep my hands clamped over my ears as I watch him, beads of cold sweat dripping down my face.

Something’s going to break through the barrier? Is he talking about the defensive charm shield around the stadium?

His eyes are focused at some point in the air high above the stadium.

Isn’t that the place we were supposed to fight the matches today? But we couldn’t because of some problem with the magic powering the platforms?

“It can’t be...”

“What’s that black stuff?”

The sky above the stadium is covered with a deep black mist. A white light, a light that’s thicker than lightning, is attempting to pierce the defensive shield surrounding the stadium. That’s what’s causing all the shockwaves.

“Captain! It’s going to break through!”

“Alois, run!” I hear Prince Zenon yell from his seat up in the aristocrat section.

“The more magic you use, the more I am fed. Resistance is futile.” The low voice of a man echoes throughout the stadium.

“Hel!”

“Ahh!”

Rockmann yanks my arm and holds me tight against his chest. Right then, the shield is broken with a BOOM, and to the center of the stadium falls something like a meteorite. Its impact kicks up a cloud of dust, sending me hacking and coughing. Rockmann seems to have covered Ms. Heldoran with his right arm, and me with his left, all to keep us inside a small spherical shield he’s casting. He’s still holding his staff in his right hand.

“Couldn’t we have avoided getting hit without—”

“Ice, my Lady, I’ve finally found you.”

Standing there in the cratered earth...is someone.

“Count Huey,” Rockmann mutters.

“Doctor...Aristo?”

His eyes glow a dark crimson. It truly is Dr. Aristo.

“My name is Städal.”

When that name slips from his lips, all of the aristocrats stir with whispers and murmurs.

“I am the King of Demons, I am the Beginning of them all; I am the God your Ancients created.”

“God?! What the heck is that thing saying!”

Städal. I’ve heard that name before. It’s the name that the demon said when it appeared inside Castle Doran.

Some of the aristocrats succumb to panic. They shout, scream, and shake.

“Long have I waited for this body of mine to be restored to life. With the magic all you Humans have brought me, however, my waiting is at an end.”

I hear the creature’s words, as before, not so much in my ears as I do in my mind itself. Hmm, “the King of Demons” was “created by the Ancients.” Is it referring to something like what happened in the tales of Genesis?

...No, that can’t be. That was just a made-up story. It was a legend attempting to describe something that happened thousands of years ago, based on not a shred of actual fact. Right?

“What have you done with the Count’s body?”

Rockmann stands up and lets go of me and Ms. Heldoran. Cool, calm, and collected, he asks his question. His voice, while calm, has something else to it. There’s this low, blistering rage undercurrent to his tone, a tone he’s never used with me. I’m not even the one who’s being asked that question, but I cringe a little bit away from his intensity.

Why is the Doctor here though, anyway? And why are his eyes glowing like a demon’s? His voice, too—it’s the same as the one in my dreams. The Doctor’s body slowly floats up into the air, looking down upon us from above.

“What have I done? This man has been enthralled by the power of the demons for many years...and has been my dearest assistant.”

“Your assistant?”

“It is but a trifle for me to control those who have fallen into my temptations.”

From what it sounds like, Dr. Aristo first made contact with this...thing...a long time ago. Details aside, it’s clear that he was tempted, fell into temptation, and had been possessed in the intervening years.

Dr. Aristo must have been completely absorbed in his demon research. Surely, he was fooled by his simple, pure desire to know more. Or at least, that had been the case in the beginning.

“Heavens above, what is going on here?”

“It’s clear the old man just got a little too into his research, yeah? He’s practically drowning in it.”

“Director Locktiss, Commander—”

The Director, who’d been up in the spectator stands, and the Knight Commander, who’d been one of the commentators, come up to stand behind us. The Director tells us that only Ice-types in the stadium have been overcome with the strange anemia. She’d come over to see me out of concern, it seems.

The Knight Commander stands next to Rockmann and places a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice what was happening sooner.”

Rockmann says nothing in return. He can’t say anything—of all the Knights, Rockmann was the closest acquaintance of Doctor Aristo.

Doctor Aristo is a talented researcher famed throughout the land. He must’ve gone looking for all those demons that appeared in the courts of the high and mighty, wielding the power of speech to the terror of all those who heard them.

That demon that I saw inside the palace—it had looked unconcerned, despite being surrounded by enemies. Confident, even. Had it gone everywhere, looking for trouble?

I wonder, though: had Dr. Aristo already made contact with it by the time it showed up in Doran?

“I shall lay claim to a great, unbeatable power, and none shall resist my authority. All those creatures and beings that have greater power than myself shall be exterminated. As a test, I had this man discover how I might rip away magical power from humans, and he has succeeded most marvelously.” An eerie cackle rattles out from the Doctor.

The demons must have known.

They must have known that within that boundless curiosity the Doctor possessed lay an opening for weakness. One wrong step, and he could be used as a weapon to threaten humanity with his knowledge.

“Two years ago, a man was assaulted in the forest to the east. A few days after he was discovered, we performed an examination, only to find slight traces that he’d recently suffered through a bout of anemia. Was that the Count’s doing?” Rockmann asks Dr. Aristo...the Demon, his face utterly expressionless as he raises his eyes to calmly ask his question.

Two years ago. There was that incident of a man being assaulted in the East Forest, wasn’t there? His name was Gouda Krain, and he’d managed the ranch associated with the Vegetarian Wolf. Satanás and Benjamine had found him out there wandering in the woods... If Dr. Aristo was the one responsible for that incident, then this demon calling itself “Städal” must think of that man’s assault as one of his little “tests.” Just as Rockmann predicted.

Hadn’t Zozo told me that Dr. Aristo had advised the Knight’s Order on how to deal with the whole Gouda Krain incident? They couldn’t possibly have imagined that the one advising them had committed the crime himself...

“R-Rockmann?”

“What?”

“Are you...alright?”

How can he remain this calm, despite everything going on around him? He couldn’t have known what kind of state the Doctor was in until just now, when he appeared before us.

I recall that night when I first met the Doctor, and how friendly he’d been with Rockmann. He’d practically been like a father to him. To Rockmann, the Doctor isn’t just some random man off the street.

“I have no time to speak at length with you, Human. Beyond this floating island, I have already annihilated every living creature on this continent.” The Demon pauses. “Annihilated, I say, but truly all I’ve done is use the Ice power I’ve collected to freeze them solid.”

All those people up in the stands who’d been just quietly sitting and watching everything unfold in the stadium below them erupt in shouting chaos at this revelation.

“Did you hear that? The whole kingdom’s frozen over!”

“Ahhhhhhh!”

“What about our families?!”

“What in the name of the Goddess is going on here?!”

People are screaming in horror as they realize the situation that they’re in.

Because this stadium is floating in the sky, it is possible to see the Kingdom down below if you look. I can’t see very well through the cracked fissures in the stadium grounds, but it’s obviously all ice below us. This isn’t a joke. No one would do something so horribly unfunny. And it certainly isn’t an illusion.

Didn’t it say, “every living creature on the continent?” That means everyone in the Kingdom is frozen, even my mother and father, both working so far away—

The Knights and Palace Guards cast attack spells at the demonically possessed Dr. Aristo, but each and every bit of magic is broken before it can reach him. Not only that, an identical spell is sent flying right back at the caster.

“What reason have you for this atrocity?”

The King slowly descends from the aristocrat’s seating area above. Guardian Knights surround him completely as he asks his question of the enthralled Dr. Aristo. Despite the presence of many other royal families in the stands, it is he who takes the initiative to interrogate the interruption. Prince Zenon hurries to float down next to his father.

The Demon laughs again at the King’s question.

“With this power of Ice I have gathered, I shall resurrect dear Ice herself, and make this world my own, under my power. None shall interfere with me or my doings, and only those that obey me shall walk this world.”

I imagine I hear the distinct sound of several people around me gulping in fear at the Demon’s words.

“Heed my words: this continent is no longer yours. Using magic against me would be unwise. The more you use, the more my body absorbs. Hand over that daughter of Ice over there, and I shall refrain from releasing my demon beasts and keep you alive, but know you shall be my slaves until the end of your days.”

From up where he floats in the sky, Dr. Aristo—I mean, Städal—slowly descends and stretches out a hand towards me.

“Within you I see a radiance most beautiful. You are my dear Ice herself. Should that power become mine, I shall need nothing more. Had it not been for that strange Garb you wore, or this bastard’s incessant protection of you, I would have had you sooner. Fire brat—”

“You don’t shut up, do you?” “No time to talk?” Don’t make me laugh. You’re the one talking the most here! Unable to take it any longer, I growl in irritation at Städal.

“Nanalie!”

Before I can move, Prince Zenon shouts my name, calling me to a halt.

I watch Rockmann’s face as he stands next to me. The image of him as a little boy flashes through my mind, with that lonely, sad expression. He may not show it, looking at this possessed Dr. Aristo—but there is no way that he’s feeling calm right now. I decide to ignore Prince Zenon’s warning to be silent and speak my mind.

“Give back Dr. Aristo,” I growl. “Give me back my mother and father!”

I am furious. This isn’t funny.

The Demon is after someone wearing a “strange garb” and being protected by Rockmann. “Daughter of Ice” must be referring to the person lying on the ground, with my uniform draped over her—Ms. Heldoran.

The reason that this Demon is collecting the blood of Ice mages, the reason it wants to resurrect the Ice Ancient—it has to be so that it can eliminate any other being with power. If it can truly resurrect the Ice Ancient, and the legends of Genesis were true, then that means this demon called Städal already possesses the ability to resist the five other types. If he obtains Ice as well, he’ll be able to resist them all. It’d be practically invincible. We can’t let that happen.

“I’ll never let a vindictive grudge of a spirit like you steal away all the people who are important to me!” I use attack spells to send spears of ice hurtling at Städal. I can’t let Dr. Aristo himself die from my attacks, so I aim for the arms and legs to keep him from being fatally wounded.

I thought the Demon would spin my attacks around and send them back towards me, but they slip right through its defenses and leave cuts on the Doctor’s limbs. The Knights and Palace Guards notice this. They look at me, full of hope.

“Again! Again! AGAIN!” Shouts of encouragement rain down on me from the spectators’ seats above.

“Mwahahaha! You’ve got spirit, daughter of Ice. To the fools filled with foolish blood who spun the spells, not knowing I was absorbing the power all the while: know that the blood of Ice is precious beyond all you can fathom, even flowing within your foolish veins. I cannot abide to let you keep that blood from me.”

Städal floats up into the sky once more, and a black tornado begins spiraling above us.

It’s going to attack us with that, isn’t it?

“Hey, Rockmann! What’re you doing! You can’t leave Ms. Heldoran alone! It’s aiming for her—”

“No.”

Rockmann stands in front of me, his back turned against my indignance. “It doesn’t want Muishia.” He readies his golden staff, pointing it up at Städal. Scarlet flames blaze up in brilliant glory against the dark storm swirling above us.

What’s he doing, trying to protect me like this? I try yanking his arm, but he remains firm.

“It wants you.”

The entire world is bathed in scarlet light, and all I can hear is Rockmann’s voice.

“Protect the King! Knights and Guardians, engage the enemy in battle! Use as little magic as possible!”

With those words from the Knight Commander, the attack on the demon horde begins.

The earlier burst of light hadn’t been a magical attack, but a blinding distraction from the demons Städal had magicked into the stadium. Everywhere I look, there are demons: some with sharp fangs, some that are small and nimble, and yet others that are like little animals, each pushing through the barrier overhead and all drawn to the mayhem inside the stadium below. Städal itself floats high in the air above us, looking down upon me and my friends as if it’s watching the most amusing show in the world. Huh, would you look at that? All that big talk earlier, but it hasn’t attacked us directly at all.

“Get your uniform back on, quickly. This is no time to be worrying about Muishia when you’re the one being attacked.”

I got fed up with doing nothing while Rockmann protected me, so I decided to fight back-to-back with him. While I’m whacking every oncoming demon with the Dare Labdos and sending them flying, he tells me to put on my uniform. I guess that would be a good idea—I need some protection here. Plus, that thing won’t be able to siphon away my magical power if I’m wearing the Dress, so I’ll be able to use as much magic as I want. The hood itself should be enough to protect me, based on how it affected Ms. Heldoran when I put it on her—I look over to where she’s lying on the ground, but I see neither hood nor Dress anywhere on her. Gone. Completely gone. When did that happen?!

“My uniform’s not there!”

“It’s not there?”

“The uniform I put on Ms. Heldoran has totally disappeared, all of it...”

Where did the hood go? Did it catch on someone’s foot in the middle of the scramble and get dragged off somewhere? I look closely at the ground in every direction, but it’s nowhere to be found. Search and search as I may, I spot no sign of that distinctive white hood and uniform. I’ve got other things to worry about. The demons are relentless in their onslaught, and I’m focused on making sure my mace connects firmly with their creepy little faces.

“Dammit,” Rockmann swears, “I should’ve grabbed it earlier. Städal must’ve known about that uniform’s ability, and spirited it away during that burst of light.” He looks around at the others fighting nearby. “The Commander told them not to use magic, but it seems like that’s much easier said than done...”

Many of the Knights and Guardians are restricting themselves to using their swords and staves to fight off the demons, but there are also a good number of them battling the demons using the attack spells they’re accustomed to. Looks like Städal wasn’t lying when it said that the more magic we use, the more it’ll absorb. One by one, the magic users find their feet trapped in ice, powerless as they watch it creep up their body and freeze them solid. Even a fighter wearing the garb of the Knights of Vestanu is frozen solid.

If we keep fighting like this, we’ll never beat these demons. I clasp the Dare Labdos firmly with both hands and lift it high in the air—only for Rockmann to place his hands over mine, preventing me from moving. Hey! What’s the big idea? If we don’t get rid of these demons as soon as possible, we’ll never make any headway against Städal! I shake off Rockmann’s hands and thrust the tip of my mace into the ground. I incant the spell for an exorcism circle, waiting for it to appear—but nothing happens.

“I can’t cast magic circles anymore?! How the devil is it preventing me from doing that! Quit—pissing—me—off!”

“It must know what the Count knows, to be capable of that.”

The magic circle Rockmann had tried to cast earlier hadn’t been broken, per se, it had just been prevented from manifesting.

“Alois! I’m going to toss up a defensive shield so no more demons can come inside the stadium! Force them out!”

“I shall assist you as well.”

The Knight Commander and the Director come up to us in the middle of the battle and order us to expel as many demons as possible from the stadium. By now, the Royals themselves have begun fighting alongside their servants and Knights. Even the King must have decided this was no time to wait for others to protect him.

Commoners are engaging the demons in battle as well, but here and there are poor people having their necks feasted upon by the monsters. I wish I could use a healing spell to help them, but I’m not good at healing magic. Still, I can’t let that be any reason for me to just watch them die. I step away from Rockmann’s side and head right for the crowd of defenseless commoners. Using magic is the only way I’m going to pull this off. I whack away over half the attacking demons with my mace, and send some ice vines speeding towards the rest, ensnaring ten of them. I dangle them up in the air, freeze them solid, and shatter them.

“Thank you,” I hear, “you saved us,” but all I can think about is that lone little girl crouched crying next to one of the fallen as they lay in a growing pool of their own blood, a man who may perhaps be the girl’s father. He’s breathing, but only barely. If he bleeds anymore, he’ll die for sure. I may not be good at healing magic, but I have to try. It’s right at that moment when—

“I’ll take it from here.”

As I’m readying a spell, someone taps my shoulder. It’s a friendly face—my old nurse from school, in fact.

“Nurse?! You were here all this time?!”

“I was watching up in the stands, but clearly this is no time to be ‘spectating.’ Nanalie, make sure you don’t use too much magic. Just because we’re inside a charm shield now doesn’t mean that your magic won’t run out.”

The school nurse frowns as she notices more people freezing a little ways away from us. More and more people are freezing. Thanks to the Commander’s shield, the demons have stopped coming inside, but those that are already inside still need to be taken out. It’s not safe at all. A massive amount of the creatures are still roaming about inside the stadium. If the Commander keeps using his magic to preserve the barrier and to defeat the demons, he’ll collapse for sure. The Director said she’ll help him as long as she can still move, but how long can the two of them expect to last against the horde? Fortunately, there’s a good number of sorcerers around fighting as well, so the demons are decreasing, somewhat. But how long can they keep fighting?

Time passes. How much or how little, I cannot say—only that, eventually, Mr. Borizurie of the Knights of Vestanu is the one who at last kills the final demon, splitting it in two with his sword. All grows quiet. I’ve no idea what time of day it is, nor do I have any way of knowing; the sky at some point turned completely red. It could be midnight, it could be dawn.

“Commander! Please, that’s enough!”

“I’ll take over! Get a grip, Grove!”

The Knight Commander’s been casting the charm shield the entire time. At the center of the field, he is surrounded by his fellow Knights and gently laid to rest on the ground. Slowly but surely, I see that tell-tale transparent crystal steal up his legs.

Prince Zenon and the King run over to him. He kept using his magic until not a single demon was left inside the shield. The Director’s taken over for the commander and is now focused on maintaining the magical barrier. Around her stand Mr. Alkes, Zozo, and even Ms. Harris. She must have come down from the spectator seating sometime during the fight. Ah, it’s so good to see all of them safe.

Safe as they may be, beyond the translucent barrier of the shield growl countless demons, wailing and gnashing their teeth as they fix their evil eyes upon us. My brow furrows with worry as I assess the fight still to come.

“Nanalie!”

“Thank heavens you’re safe!”

“Nikeh! Maris!”

Both of my friends come running across the field towards me. I gather them up in my arms, holding them close. Out of breath, they relate their own experience of the battle: Princess Mislina had been protecting both of them, and once some talented Knights had formed a protective phalanx around her, they’d gone searching after me.

“Hey! Everyone alright?”

“Yo! Y’all okay?!”

Benjamine and Satanás find us all gathered together and let out a big sigh of relief to see that we’re safe. I’m glad to be with the four of them at a time like this.

“Ice mages! What the hell are you doing down there! Charge out from behind that shield and fight!”

“We were told before that your powers would work on those monsters!”

“Do you intend to watch us all die?!”

Several VIPs from the palace, likely all Ministers, are shouting at us Ice mages from behind protective ranks of Knights, pointing towards the demons waiting outside the shield. “Ice mage” this, “Ice mage that”—look around, people! Do you see many others here? No other fellow Ice-types I know are still fighting—they’re all collapsed on the ground, like Ms. Deen is. Normally, you can’t tell whether someone is an Ice mage or not simply by looking at them; which naturally means that I, as the last Ice mage to reveal her type in the fight against Rockmann, become the focus of all their shouted urgings.

“Th-That thing said if we hand over that blue-haired girl that it wouldn’t hurt us, did it not? We should just hand her over to the demons and get the situation here under control! We must ensure our safety!”

I am singled out by a thickly-bearded Minister garbed in obviously expensive clothing.

Well sure, you could do that, but you can’t exactly guarantee anyone’s going to be safe after you do so, right? If only Ice magic works against that monster, you shouldn’t be offering up your Ice mages as bargaining chips! Come on, we should be thinking up ways to squash Städal, not offer me up to it.

I take a step forward. If they want me to be their sacrificial lamb, they’re gonna hear me bleat a bit before I die—a big hand stops me in my tracks. I look down at where someone’s grabbing my arm. It’s Rockmann. Wasn’t he standing much further away from me a moment ago...? The recent past repeats itself, and I am once more made to stand behind Rockmann as he protects me.

He glares up at them. His voice erupts from somewhere deep within him, a rough roar kept in check by that rocksteady composure of his: “Hold your tongues, dotards.”

His back is turned to mine, so I can’t tell what sort of expression he’s got on his face. The Ministers, though, all go completely pale, as if they’ve just been cornered by some terrible beast. It’s settled, then: Rockmann’s voice is definitely scarier than any demon’s growl. No doubt about it. The Ministers sure feel that way, at least.

But why does his tone make me feel so uneasy?

“Screw you old bastards! You wanna make her jump outside the shield? I’m gonna knock out your dumb asses before I take on those demons, you got that?!”

“You said it, Naru!”

Satanás and Benjamine pull me over to where the Director and the other Harré employees are gathered. Behind me I can hear what sounds like Maris and Nikeh chewing out the Ministers for even suggesting I be handed over to Städal. Oh. I feel like I’m going to cry. “Sorry for the trouble,” I say to Benjamine.

She smiles. “Don’t worry about it!”

Satanás gives me a little poke on the side of the head to snap me out of it. “I’ve got an idea.” He pauses, waiting for Rockmann, Nikeh, and Maris to catch up to us as we’re walking away. Once we’re all gathered together again, he starts off again: “As long as we don’t get rid of that boss demon—” he points up at Städal floating up in the sky “—we’ll never make a dent in the hordes down here. We’ve got to risk going outside the shield to knock it down. For that, we’ll need—”

“I’ll send half of the Knights out with you.”

At some point, Prince Zenon had joined our conversation. Behind him stands Mr. Borizurie, as well as several other Knights, all listening in.

Benjamine’s eyes go wide at Prince Zenon’s offer. “You really think it’s alright to send out half the Knights with us?”

“We don’t have time to debate this. We’re getting weaker the longer we fight, all of us. The only option left is an all-out assault.” Prince Zenon lifts his eyes to glare up at Städal, an expression of grim determination on his face. That’s when I realize what’s going on in his mind. As Vice-Commander, he’s in charge of the Order now that the Commander’s collapsed.

Rockmann nods his head. “Using our magic against the demons at random, with no strategy at all, will only lead to that thing taking our power for himself. We have to beat it at its own game,” he says, full of confidence.

Maris, however, isn’t convinced. “But our enemy has taken the power of all those it froze, has it not? Can we really hope to succeed against the combined magical powers of every human on the continent?”

Rockmann winces a bit at her words, but isn’t cowed into silence. “You’re right. To beat it, we’ll absolutely need the cooperation of every single Ice mage still standing. The rest of us will serve as decoys to distract the other demons while Ice-types are launching their attack on Städal. It’s the only way we can defeat him.”

He gives commands to his subordinates for every Ice mage in the stadium still capable of inflicting damage on the demons to be brought before him. They’re all we’ve got. Or rather, we are all they have available to defend against the demons. In the middle of organizing the attack on Städal, Rockmann commands Maris to keep protecting Princess Mislina. It is there that we split up, and our little circle of friends is broken.

Everyone’s summoned their familiars. With them, we’ll at least be able to move around the stadium. Whether we’ll be able to pull off this attack, however, remains to be seen. Once more, I hop on Lala’s back.

Zozo taps me on the arm right as we’re about to lift off. “Nanalie, here—I’ll lend you my uniform. Put it on.”

“But if I do that, then you’ll be in danger!”

“I’m staying inside the shield with Alkes and the others to keep them safe from the other demons. That one—” she looks up at Städal “—that one I leave to you. I’m counting on you, Nanalie.” With a snap of her fingers, my dress and her uniform switch places.

Zozo’s uniform is a bit different from my own. It consists of a pair of short white pants, low-heeled boots, and a long-sleeved tunic. As I see her waving about her arms, fluttering her—my—dress’s long loose sleeves, I can’t help but laugh a little at how odd the sight of her wearing my clothing is. She laughs at me as well as I adjust the sleeves a bit to better accommodate the fit I’m used to.

Rockmann said he wanted all the Ice mages to gather together here, but Ms. Deen and Ms. Heldoran are already beginning to freeze over. They won’t be able to help. All of the Ice-type sorcerers that had fought in the earlier matches had already used up their magic. None of them can move either, frozen to the ground as they are. One Ice mage each from both the Knights and the Palace Guardians is brought over by Prince Zenon to where I’m standing. Including me, that’s three of us. I feel like that is, to put it lightly, nowhere near enough power to take on Städal.

“Don’t get upset,” Rockmann says, smirking down at me. “I’ll be there to protect you whenever you need me.”

“I don’t want to be protected by you!” Dang it, it must be obvious how uneasy I’m feeling about all this.

“You scared? Freaking out? Doing alright?” Rockmann continues to tease me. I am not freaking out!!

I let out a big huff of frustration, then refocus on the task at hand. Around me I see others are assembling in preparation for the upcoming assault.

Mr. Borizurie isn’t going to be joining us. “I’m staying inside the shield. Once she hits her limit, I’ll take over casting it.” He nods at the Director, looking ready to begin casting in case she should collapse. “There are only three Ice-types still standing,” he says, patting my shoulder. “This whole situation is nothing at all like we planned... In the end, it looks like it’s going to come down to you and your Ice magic.”

“In the end it comes down to me?” Hmm, well, that sounds nice, but aren’t there two other Ice-types coming along with me? What about them? Rockmann said that Städal was specifically after me, but I can’t imagine that really being true.

Prince Zenon picks up on my misgivings. “You’ve got a lot of magic in you, Nanalie. Enough to make it worth it for that demon up there to go after you, enough to bear the title ‘Ancient-class mage.’ No one here doubts that.”

“But I’m not nearly as powerful as Rockmann, who had so much he struggled as a—oops...”

I realize in the middle of my conversation with Prince Zenon that I’ve said too much. Shoot! I was supposed to hide the fact I learned all that stuff from Rockmann when he turned little. If he finds out now, all our efforts to deceive him will have been for nothing!

Rockmann doesn’t seem to notice anything odd about what I’ve just said, however, and merely continues to face Prince Zenon, who just sighs at my response.

“I suppose it’s not the strangest thing in the world that you yourself wouldn’t notice how powerful you are—but do you remember back when Alois would always blast his magic on you? Do you know why he brawled with you like that?”

“You’re talking about our fights at school?”

“Looking back, don’t you think it’s strange? Isn’t it odd that a noble-born boy would hit a girl and burn her hair? Not very ‘noble’ at all, is it?”

“...”

Well, he’s certainly right about that, but why bring it up now?

“From the moment your hair changed color, everyone around you was able to see that you’d one day become far more powerful than the average mage. At the time, your body was just too small to contain all that power, so it leaked out into your hair and your eyes, changing their color.”

“But—but that’s—”

“Call it brawling, call it arguing, whatever—what you two were doing by going all out with your spells was preventing each other’s magic from exploding out of control. This is Alois we’re talking about, right? He knew the problems that came with having too much magic inside a person. Thinking about your fights now—can’t you see?—he was draining your power, little by little, to prevent it from overflowing.” Prince Zenon tilts his head slightly to one side and smiles, as if remembering something. “All the teachers probably knew what he was doing. They would’ve stopped you otherwise.” He shakes his head. “Whatever the reason may be, I didn’t stop you two from fighting because, well, he seemed to be enjoying himself.”

Okay, Rockmann definitely heard all that. So why isn’t he reacting?

“Is that true?” I ask him.

“As if you could believe all that,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Who’d ever do something like that because they enjoyed it?” He glares over at Prince Zenon. “Keep your wild speculations to yourself, Your Highness.”

I mean, sure, I guess it would be odd if someone “enjoyed” fighting like that...but didn’t we start doing it only after I found out my magic type? He hadn’t done anything more than tease me in the six months before that.

After my magic-type had been revealed, he’d tossed every spell in the book at me, bringing me to my boiling point at every chance, whether that was in class or outside of it. I got so angry, so pissed with his stupid antics so many times, especially when we were younger, but I never had a pestokraive happen while I was at school. Was that because of all the fighting we did...? Had he done all that on purpose...?

I look up at him. No. No way. This is Rockmann and me we’re talking about, right? As if he’d go out of his way, for years on end, to do a favor like that for me.

“Um, don’t look at me like that. Feels gross.”

“Don’t call me gross!”

“Setting your quarreling aside,” Prince Zenon interjects, “we’re all exiting from the shield at once. Everyone ready?”

“Yessir—!”

At his command, we mount our familiars and ride them outside the shield. The instant we’re beyond its protective magic, all the demons converge on our position, their mouths practically frothing with bloodlust.

“Seriehla!” (Surging Wave.)

Atop Lala, we twist and turn to avoid the monsters champing at our heels. The great surge of water rushes over them and swallows them whole, letting out bursts of salty spray as it does so.

“Thanks, Nikeh!”

“Don’t worry about the shrimps down here! You’ve got bigger fish to fry!” Nikeh gives me a thumbs up as she flies alongside me, riding her serpent familiar Paula.

The other Knights say the same. “We’ll handle it down here!”

And so I and the other two Ice-types fly high, high up into the sky.

“So you’ve come to me willingly...” In the form of the possessed Doctor, Städal laughs loudly at the three of us as we surround him. Our fight is with you, Städal. But we are also racing against time. The Knights and Princes down below will eventually run out of magic...and we don’t know how long we three will last against you either.

For some time Städal laughs and laughs, and as he does so, a smoky appendage emerges from his back, like some massive hand made of shadow. All three of us wait, watching it twitch, as if expecting the Doctor’s body to hatch the rest of the dark creature within.

Out from the Doctor’s body emerges a humanoid creature with long silver hair, two red eyes, and a face paler than pale, with one great blue eye embedded in its forehead. From the neck down it is covered in black scales reminiscent of a dragon’s. Other than that, completely like a human. Strange.

“Ah, we meet at last. You kept me waiting so long.”

The voice it speaks with is not the hoarse growl I’d heard in my mind, but that of a young man.

Dr. Aristo’s body, having apparently fulfilled its purpose, is tossed aside to fall down to the ground far below without further ado.

“Doctor!”

I urge Lala to go after him, knowing I’ll be too late no matter how quickly I hurry—only to see Rockmann waiting beneath the falling Doctor, catching him on Yuri’s back. I’m so glad he noticed what was happening.

“So you’re Städal, huh?”

“Surprised? What were you expecting, some great and fearsome monster? Hmmmm?”

Three against one. An unfair fight in any other circumstance, but this guy just sucked up the blood and magic of everyone on the continent. Three feels like it’s nowhere near enough.

Städal’s long tongue slips out of his mouth, and he slithers it around to lick his own cheeks and forehead. “The power to resist Ice I may not possess, but I shall not be defeated so easily.”

The instant he declares this, gale-force winds strong enough to rip our bodies apart begin to rage. Blades of air slice and tear at the three of us, whirling to hit us again and again. Fortunately, Lala crystallized herself just before the attack started, so we aren’t careening down towards the stadium. I take the blows as they come, somehow managing to make it through.

We’d originally agreed to launch a simultaneous attack on Städal once we’d surrounded him. Our eyes meet; I look to the lady Knight Kirina and give her a nod, then do the same for the gentleman Knight Ladd.

“Wahmasha!” (Scouring Arrow.)

Intending to investigate just how hard those black scales of his are, I let loose an Ice arrow. The other two attack at the same time—but our enemy appears to teleport away before our arrows can hit him. I fire off several more. Some miss, but some also happen to hit my target. Where they strike against him, they explode with a burst of Ice...and tear off a few of his scales.

Mr. Ladd is the first to notice this. “Our attacks can penetrate his armor!” Städal doesn’t appear to be able to resist our attacks—but they also don’t seem to damage him very much. “Looks like it’s a game to see if we’ll be actually able to hit him with our attacks.”

Ms. Kirina nods. “Creating an opening before we attack is likely the best course of action.”

The three of us huddle together, bracing against Städal’s Wind assault. Both of the Knights emphasize how important it is for us to force our enemy into a momentary window of tactical weakness before attacking.

“We could launch an all-out assault,” Mr. Ladd says, “but in a situation like this we really need a decoy to—whoa, watch out!”

Bolts of black lightning shred the air between us. Ms. Kirina’s arm is burned by the attack. I try using healing magic to fix her up, but the instant I close the wound it opens up again. What is going on here? Do those bolts inflict wounds that can’t be healed...?

Now I’m really beginning to sweat.

“Oh Ice, how kindly and lovingly you used to smile at me. Find it within yourself to show me that tender smile of yours once more.”

“As if I’m going to smile at you!”

“Ahhh!”

“Kirina!”

Ms. Kirina lets out a scream that grabs our attention. Quicker than quick, Städal has sunk his sharp teeth into her throat. Before our eyes, her struggling grows weaker, and ice begins to steal up her legs. Lala and I fly over to her as fast as we can—but Städal drops her to the ground. Ladd is close enough to catch her with a levitation spell and sends her floating back inside the charm shield. Only two of us Ice-types left. We haven’t even been fighting that long! I knew it would probably end up like this, but still...just three of us against him already had us at a disadvantage, and now it’s looking even worse...!

“Delicious, oh, DELICIOUS! More. I need MORE!” Städal lunges downwards to chase after Ms. Kirina. He attempts to break through the barrier, but before he can so much as fracture it I ensnare him in dozens of my Ice threads. With a twist of my hands, I yank him away from the shield.

“I will not let you have her.”

“You bitch!”

Städal flexes his muscles explosively ,and all of my Ice threads are broken in an instant. Then, he comes after me. He broke them all...without using a single spell. I grimace at how easily he freed himself. Whips of black lightning snap up at me as Städal closes in. He lashes out at me, again and again and again, but every time, I manage to toss up pillars of ice that bear the brunt of the attack, shielding me from their zapping snaps. With my Ice Breath, I manage to freeze parts of his limbs, slowing the pace of his attacks. Lala takes care to fly just right in order to assist my attacks.

“Consuming you first shall suit me just fine, dear Ice.”

Städal glowers up at me, his eyes flashing with threats of cruelty. Okay, now it’s serious: threatening to eat me? Really? Like I’d let you do that. Two shadowy arms several times longer than I am tall explode out from his sides. They claw left, right, up, down, shredding through the air as if to squish me like a bug, moving far faster than any physical arms could. I dodge once, dodge twice, and resolve to counterattack; with a flick of my index fingers and a few words of incantation, my magic flares out:

“Amones Fea.”

Blizzards of snow spiral out from my fingertips, their cold winds coiling through the air like miniature tornados.

WhooshwhooshWHOOSH my spell gains speed and intensity as it hurtles down towards Städal, blasting against the charm shield he hastily casts to protect himself—but my spell is strong. It pierces through his shadow hands to land a direct hit on his scaly body.

“Ngh! Impossible!”

A direct hit, sure—but all I did was throw him off balance. He isn’t falling out of the sky just yet. I notice I’ve made a few cuts in his shoulders. I incant another attack spell to try damaging him further, but he’s too quick for that to work. Before my spells can land, he’s already magicking them away with other types of elemental magic. Since he has that absorption ability, I’ve only been using minor spells up until now—but I’m never going to defeat him without a major magical attack.

Städal presses his hands against the open wounds on his shoulder. “Impudent girl! Your puny magicks are no more than mere irritations... Enough playing! Now, I shall show you the full extent of my power!”

So saying, he unleashes another bolt of black lightning, but not at me. What is he trying to do? I glance towards the bolt’s intended target—there, fighting the demons, is one of my friends.

“Benjamine!”

I instantly try blocking the attack. Just barely, I manage to summon up a massive crystal mirror that reflects the bolt away from Benjamine. Whew.

My opponent, however, is not merely standing by while I breathe a sigh of relief; he’s far too cunning to let this critical opportunity slip by. By the time I realize what he’s done, it’s too late: behind me is a malevolent maelstrom in the shape of a dragon, roaring down to engulf me in its maw. I won’t be able to completely dodge this—but I can’t just let it swallow me.

I push down hard against Lala’s back, trying to dive us down beyond the reach of its jaw. Something, however, grabs my right arm and yanks me out of the way, and an odd softness holds my whole body close.

“Y-You okay?”

“Wh-Why are you up here?!”

Rockmann, who should’ve been fighting the demons on the ground, is holding me in one arm and casting a charm shield around us both with the other. The magical barrier prevents the maelstrom from consuming us both. Shockwaves shake the air as Städal’s maelstrom collides with flames blazing out from Rockmann’s shield.

“Infinite Gods Above and Holy Spirits of the Blood, hear my prayer—”

“W-Wait! You can’t—!”

He’s begun reciting the Prayer of the Guardian Spirit.

“In mine own name of Hades, I beseech you:

Blaze incandescent this ground below,

And with flames make red the sky above.

Let the power of every living creature fuel this fire,

That its brilliance may outshine the noon sun itself.

Flaring light,.

Burn with all the power of the First Blood.”

A vortex of flame is exploding out from the fingertips on his right hand. How is he doing this? The Prayer of the Guardian Spirit requires the maximum amount of magical power one possesses. Rockmann’s been casting spells left and right ever since Städal appeared, hasn’t he? He’s used defensive spells, offensive spells—all to keep us safe. And yet, miraculously, he hasn’t collapsed like all the others did. He’s never so much as flinched at using his power. Perhaps it’s because he has so much to begin with? He’s already been outside the shield for several minutes now, using magic all the while, and yet still he decides to cast this spell? Why?

Rockmann uses his left arm to hold me tight against him as the magic leaves his body. I hear a crack crack crack—and look down to see ice slowly beginning to cover the fingertips on Rockmann’s left hand.

“No, NO! Rockmann, please! Stop!”

“Grenade.” (Consuming Flame.)

Rockmann does not heed my pleas to stop, and only holds me tighter.

Städal sneers down at the flame vortex, as if to dismiss it as a mere light show—but it ends up being far more powerful than our enemy expects. With an enormous BOOM, Städal is slammed up into the sky far above the stadium with all the speed of a comet. The spell causes what sounds like an earthquake, leading to the collapse of part of the stadium itself.

“Rockmann!”

Yuri disappears with a pop! I panic and hold Rockmann tight against me, placing him in front of me on Lala’s back. “Lala! Let’s take him back inside the shield while we can!” He’s still breathing, but only in shallow, slow wheezes. I watch his eyes, slits barely open and listless. In this moment, I am the most terrified I’ve felt all day, even more than when Städal first appeared.

“Sir Alois!”

“Alois!”

We pass through the shield and safely land. Maris, the King, Lady Norweira, and Duke Rockmann all come running over. Carefully, I lift Rockmann off of Lala’s back and lay him down on the ground. He can no longer move his left leg.

Everyone around me is yelling. “Hang on! Alois, stay awake!”

All I want to do is apologize for how pathetic I was while fighting Städal.

He’s always watching over me, always protecting me. Ever since I was twelve years old! I may not have known that’s what he was doing back then, but still—what can I say to him at a time like this?

Why does he do all this for me? I’m not worth it. I’m not worth the effort.

“Why? Why do you always protect me?”

Maris and Lady Norweira are patting Rockmann’s head and cheeks. The Duke, the King, and several wounded Knights are all gathered close around us. I am with Rockmann, at the center of all the attention, kneeling down on the ground beside him. Why would a guy so respected, so loved by everyone around him, put himself in such danger to protect me—and not just once, but time and time again?

I whisper, half to him, half to myself. “If the reason we fought as kids was, you know, to keep our magic from overflowing—couldn’t you have just told me?” Maris and all the others around us look at me as I speak.

“The reason?” His eyes flutter a bit at hearing my words, and he turns slightly towards me. “The reason I saved you earlier was because we can’t afford to lose you now.” I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Despite the pain and exhaustion he must be feeling, he looks calm and composed as ever. “The reason for our old fights...well, I don’t mind if you or anyone else thinks of me...remembers me...as an irrationally violent man. I don’t mind at all.”

I’m curling my hands together into a tight ball of frustration, pressing them against my knees. Rockmann takes his hand—the one not yet frozen—and gently places it atop my own.

“All I ever wanted...was for you to grow up healthy, without limiting yourself or your magic. I didn’t want you to end up like me. If I’d been too kind with you, the other noble children would’ve given me no end of grief. I’m sure I could’ve done it differently, but I didn’t have many good memories when it came to controlling my magic power...that was the only way I knew how to control it.” He takes a shallow breath before continuing. “We didn’t get along with each other from the moment we met, did we? Guess it was easy for me to do...what I did...without having any other reason or feeling behind it.” He laughs a little, sounding strained.

You aren’t supposed to laugh at a time like this. Look at you! You’re a wreck, but laughing like you’ve not got a care in the world! I feel anger building up inside of me. A guy like you who tries to act cool at a time like this is just weird! It’s just wrong. Isn’t it?

“It’s not like you to cry like this. Oh, but I guess you did cry that one time, so maybe you are a crier after all...”

“Quiet, you!” I’m grinding my teeth together as I try to hold back my feelings—but tears drip from my eyes falling down with a tiny pat to land on Rockmann’s hand.

“Really, please...don’t cry.”

What’s wrong with me? Maybe I’m the weird one. Aren’t I angry? If I am, why am I crying? Yes, people cry when they’re sad, sometimes when they’re happy too, but angry? Who cries out of anger?

...Maybe I’m not angry after all. And I’m certainly not happy. The only feeling left is sadness. These are tears of sadness.

“I’m sure...” Rockmann’s voice is getting fainter. “I’m sure you hate me.”

“‘Hate’ you?”

“People cry...for loved ones, over friends...not for people they hate. And...you can’t stay here crying. There’s still something you have to do.” He presses the forefinger on his right hand against my forehead. “You’ve got a job to do, Crybaby Caretaker of Lost Children from the Knight’s Order. You’ve got a job to do...Receptionist Lady.”

“Wait, Rockmann—”

Quietly, faintly, his arm goes slack and falls to the ground. Bit by bit, his body is covered with translucent crystal, until finally he is frozen entirely.

“NO! Sir Alois! Please, open your eyes!” Maris presses her face against the cold ice covering his body and begins sobbing.

Why is it that every time I stretch out my hand to you, you take it in yours so easily? “You do all this...despite how much I treated you as my enemy.”

Not a single person around me has anything to say in response to my whispered words. I’m crying so much that my nose begins to run. My breathing gets shallow and rapid as sorrow threatens to drown me. I let out a sad gasp as I come up for air and look up at the red sky.

“You were a loathsome idiot sometimes, but still, even then—” My eyes begin to well up with tears again as I squint up at nothing in particular. “There was...one thing I liked about you.” Don’t blink, Nanalie, don’t blink. You can’t cry those tears. No matter how I try to hold them back, however, I can’t stop them from running down my cheeks. “You always, always kept your promises. I liked that.”

I think back to when Rockmann and I first met, and all that’s happened since then.

I’d tell him to “prepare to die” before each school holiday. We’d come back to school and he’d say, snarking loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’ve prepared myself. Now what?” What a stupid joke of a conversation. I remember every time he said that, and how I’d, just a little, smile at his sarcastic response.

Then there was that time when he’d said he “wanted to teach me how to perform psychometry” and dragged me out on that investigation under those pretenses—but then he actually did teach me how to do it, properly. I’d thought of the whole episode as just another example of how condescending he could be. I was honestly surprised back then.

It was the same that time I was held hostage in the Land of the Sea. He said he’d come for me, sure—but I hadn’t actually believed he would.

Then, just now, didn’t he say—

“I’ll be there to protect you, whenever you need me.”

“Protect me, huh?”

Why did he say that? Why in the world did he say that? He’s got nothing to gain from making a promise like that. Maybe he’s even stupider than I am. He might even, you know, be actually stupid. But you know—

My shoulders tremble as I cover my mouth with my hands.

“I—”

—I’d be stupid not to fall in love with you.

For a while my mind goes blank. I shake my head a few times, blinking rapidly. Why am I feeling like this, now? It’s strange. It’s weird.

In any case, I haven’t got time to waste sitting here thinking about stuff like this. It’s just like Rockmann said—we’ve already made it this far. I can’t look back now. I’ve got a job to do, something I need to do. For everyone.

What flashes through my mind, however, is a memory of the last time I cried like this in front of him. Rockmann had lost one of his arms and was covered in blood. That was the first time I caused a pestokraive, wasn’t it? There had been this image in my mind while it was all happening, almost like an out-of-body experience. I’d remembered that one time as a child I’d gone with my mother to the town theater. The play had been so boring that I’d nearly slept through the whole affair, but there was one part I remember quite clearly: it was when a woman was weeping over her fallen lover. She’d looked so, so sad, weeping away all that while. But I hadn’t made that connection at the time, between my tears and hers—I’d thought I was crying out of frustration more than anything else.

“Why...why couldn’t I have realized sooner?”

Could I—could I have already been in—with him, even back then, when he lost his arm?

I peer through the ice trapping him, only to see my own face reflected on its surface. I look like I’m in pain.

“Everyone, please! Help me.” Still kneeling on the ground, I call out to the others surrounding Rockmann and me.

Mr. Borizurie is the one casting the shield at the moment. The Director had run out of magic and is now lying down next to the Knight Commander. Both of them have their eyes closed and are covered in ice. Zozo, Mr. Alkes, and Ms. Harris are on standby next to Mr. Borizurie, ready to take over whenever his magic should begin to fail. Maris is crouched down next to Rockmann, crying. The King is watching it all happen with a most grave look on his face. I notice that some of the aristocrats who had been standing around us just moments ago have left, probably to fight the demons beyond the shield. More and more, I look around and see not flesh and blood, but frozen people standing, sitting, collapsed on the ground. Prince Zenon himself can no longer move one of his legs.

Benjamine kneels beside me and looks me in the eye. “What do you want us to do, Nanalie?” All eyes turn to look at mine as they await the answer to her question.

“I’m not going to demand you help me,” I say, “I know what I’m asking is dangerous. But please, someone—I need you to come with me to attack Städal. I need you to recite your Prayer of the Guardian Spirit.”

Stopping him for even just a moment would do. A distraction would be fine. Just enough to throw him off balance, even.

Prince Zenon’s the first to speak. “This is the final showdown, isn’t it?”

I nod my head.

“Alright then. I’ll help you.”

“Your Highness! You can’t! Look at you, you’re already freezing—”

Nikeh, who’s been quietly helping Prince Zenon stay standing this whole time by keeping one arm around his shoulders, shouts in protest. Of course she’d say that; the Prince’s leg is almost entirely iced already. If he uses more magic in the state that he’s in, well...we can all see, right before our eyes, what’ll happen then. Nikeh looks between the Prince and Rockmann, shaking her head and pleading with her Vice Commander to stay on the ground.

But Prince Zenon remains resolute. Nikeh cries as she argues, begs him to stay—and yet he doesn’t even acknowledge her words with so much as a shake of his head. “Everyone who can still move must go up there to stop him. If we don’t, we’ll all freeze. It’ll be the end for me,” he says, looking down at Nikeh, “and the end for you, too.”

Even if we do defeat Städal, however, there’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to return everyone back to normal. With a condition like that, how can anyone command others to choose one or the other? Stay, and die, fight and die. I certainly can’t tell people what to do. Some of the Knights begin arguing amongst themselves about whether they’ll actually be able to stop our foe if they use their Prayers as I’m asking them to.

“Personally speaking, I think it’d be best for you all to do as the blue-haired maiden says.”

“What was that?! Could it be...hm?”

“I” draws the attention of the whole crowd. We look up, seeking the source of the voice. Everyone tilts their heads to the side and frowns at the unfamiliar person speaking to us. Half-doubtful that we’ll actually see the source of this odd remark, we all look up—only to see a most unexpected character floating above us.

“Prince Maiteiah?!”

“I’ve come to grace you with my presence, Humans.”

“Long time no see, Zenon!”

“Bella!”

There, several yards above us, is Princess Bella from the Kingdom of Seleina riding what appears to be her familiar, accompanied by Prince Maiteiah. I must say, this is unexpected...in several ways, at that. My jaw drops as I recognize the two of them. Besides the other five who came to rescue me when I was taken to the Land of the Sea, however, no one recognizes Princess Bella, let alone the merman Prince Maiteiah. All of them stand there, staring and speechless.

Prince Zenon waves up at them. “Bella, good to see that you’re safe—but what are you doing here?”

“Under the orders of the Sea King, Prince Maiteiah here came to the capital of Seleina just before the disaster started. He took all the citizens of the city and the members of the royal family down to the Land of the Sea and sheltered them from the ice. Everyone else on land froze over, and the monsters tried to attack them—but the merpeople left the sea to defend them all against the demon hordes! We made our way towards Doran as we helped protect people along the way. According to the Prince, however, his magic can only work on himself once he’s on land.”

Prince Maiteiah levitates himself off her familiar and descends. He comes to rest in the air before me, just barely hovering off the ground. “Essentially, your magicks and those demons cannot harm us, but in turn, we cannot use our magic against them. The fundamental principles of our magic differ too much for us to have any effect on each other, so we are forced to fight the demons with our fists, which is rather a hassle, if you ask me.”

All the Knights and Royals around us are watching them with complete confusion written across their faces. “Merpeople? The Land of the Sea?”

Prince Maiteiah pays them no mind. “Now show me! Where is this King of Doran?”

“...Here I am.”

King Zerolight steps out of the crowd. His eyes are wide as he faces the mer-Prince, as if he cannot believe what is floating in the air right before him. A moment passes, though, and he finds his tongue again. “And why, might I ask, has the Prince of the Sea himself come all this way to Doran?”

“The reason for that could not be more obvious. Within this Kingdom lives one whose veins flow with the Blood of the Sea, a descendant of the Sea King himself.”

“A descendant of the Sea King?”

“The Sea King’s daughter once fled the Kingdom, and in some miraculous manner changed her form to that of a human’s. That daughter of the King is my older sister, and it appears that she gave birth to a daughter in this land, or so I heard from my father the Sea King the other day.” Prince Maiteiah turns to me and rubs my head with his scaly hand. “Just as I thought,” he says, “you are my sister’s daughter.”

His ‘sister’s daughter.’ If what Prince Maiteiah is saying is true, then my mother is his older sister. But Mom is a human, and even if someone were to try telling me that she isn’t my “real mother,” I wouldn’t believe them; all of my relatives have always said how much I resemble her. She’s got to be my real mother.

Benjamine tries to clarify the whole situation. “So, you’re saying that Nanalie is the granddaughter of the Sea King? Is that correct?”

“It is. This girl is my niece, in other words... Well, since we’re all gathered together like this anyway, perhaps I should take this niece of mine and make her my bride.”

Satanás gags and turns pale at this answer to Benjamine’s question. “Ugh! This ‘Prince’ guy is a gross dude, no doubt.”

Setting all that “bride” nonsense aside, however, I can’t quite believe his story about my mother. The King himself looks at me and asks, “Is this true?”

I hesitate. I can’t say yes, I can’t say no—what can I say? I wasn’t raised in a wealthy household. I grew up in a normal home. Yes, Mom traveled to foreign countries on occasion, but Dad has been working here in Doran all my life. I’d never even seen the sea until I became an adult. I remember how moved I’d been by the sight of the beautiful blue expanse stretching from the Seleinian shores out to the horizon, waves crashing gently on the sand.

Wait, that’s not everything—another memory flickers through my mind.

“Would you mind calling me ‘Grandfather’?”

“Ah!”

“What is it, Nanalie? Did you remember something?!” Benjamine draws close to me after I cry out in recognition.

Prince Maiteiah’s lips tremble as he glares down at the iced-over Rockmann, practically spitting with every word he speaks. “That unsightly frozen fool lying on the ground there seemed as though he’d sensed the connection between you and my father.”

Don’t lie. Don’t lie.

“You mustn’t lie.”

Mom’s always said that too, hasn’t she? Telling me not to lie. I never have met my grandparents on my mother’s side, have I? That’s because she basically ran away from home, or so Prince Maiteiah would have me believe. I only know the relatives on my father’s side. But that’s not unusual, is it? I don’t know my mother’s magic type either. Not knowing things about your parents in and of itself isn’t unusual, though.

Still. If the reason I don’t know much about my mother is that, well...

“Listen up, Humans: You’ve got one chance to attack. It has to be a one-shot kill. Take every last bit of magic you have and spell it against it.”

“Huh? Hold on, please—what about my mother?”

“Like you said earlier, the only way to take out a monster like that is with a massive amount of magical power. My older sister was changed from a mermaid to a human by the power of Ice, who had hidden herself for many years in the deep seas. At the time, that power took refuge inside of my older sister, but now that power lives within you.”

“Within me...?”

This is all happening too fast for me to follow. I force myself to try to understand what he’s saying: my mother is actually a Princess of the Sea, became a human using the power of Ice that had been hidden deep in the sea, and after that married my father and gave birth to me. Essentially.

And now that power of Ice is inside me, and that’s what Städal has been after all this time. Or so he says.

“But if I’m the daughter of the Princess of the Sea, how could you know that?” I ask the Prince. “The Sea King is said to possess the power to ‘see all,’ but surely he could not understand all that about me, even with his great power.”

“By merely entering the Land of the Sea, he saw your past, your present, and your future, as easily as one would look into a mirror. My sister’s life he saw too. From beginning to end, all is proceeding as he has foreseen.”

Okay. If I make it out of this alive, I am going to have a lot of questions for Mom.

Prince Maiteiah raises his voice as if to address everyone inside the shield. “Certainly and truly, within this Human girl flows the Blood of the Sea King, and within her resides the power of the Ice Ancient. All those who can follow her must lend her their aid. If that thing is not stopped here, if it is not stopped now—none shall possess the means to defeat it.”

At the phrases “Blood of the Sea King” and “power of the Ice Ancient,” the eyes of all those around me are suddenly filled with hope as they look at me.

“She’s the granddaughter of the legendary Sea King?!”

“So he’s real after all...”

“Does that make her a Princess of the Sea?”

Right on the money, mister aristocrat. But that’s not what’s important here! Then again, I suppose you wouldn’t be willing to go along with my plan if you didn’t have some confidence in my abilities. I’ve got to thank Prince Maiteiah for talking me up to this tough crowd.

“I shall exit the barrier and protect the civilians beyond. Fear not.”

“Thank you very much for your help.”

Accompanied by those who are filled with hope, I move to the edge of the stadium. Together with me are Zozo, Mr. Alkes, Nikeh, Prince Zenon, Benjamine, Satanás, and five other Knights besides. This is enough.

Zozo had volunteered immediately, saying, “If this really is the end, the only choice we’ve got is to fight.” Mr. Alkes had decided to follow her lead and come along with us as well. Neither of them try talking to me about anything that Prince Maiteiah spoke of, only saying to me, quite casually, “It won’t be so scary to die if we’re together.”

Ms. Harris remains at Mr. Borizurie’s side. “I’m staying here,” she says, “I’m going to fight alongside the Knights to protect everyone from the demons.”

Prince Zenon tries to rally our spirits before we take off. “Don’t any of you slip up on me now. I’m counting on you.”

“You got it, boss!” Satanás says, in that same jokey tone he always has.

Zozo pulls me aside to teach me the incantation to turn her uniform invisible. “You ready? It’s ‘fiisha,’ okay?”

“Understood.”

“There’s still something you have to do.”

“I know. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

I hold his last words close to my heart as I soar up into the sky.

＊ ＊ ＊ ＊

“Bold as brass, aren’t you all? Coming up here to fight me once more. Stubborn fools like yourselves are nothing but sore losers.” Our enemy, his shoulders still frozen, had been watching all that happened below from his floating perch far above the stadium grounds. Behind him swarm an enormous number of demons, looking ready to launch their assault at any moment.

“Hey, look at this guy—he waited for us to come to him! This ‘Städal’ fellow might not be so bad after all.”

“Naru! Shut up with your dumb joking, please!”

My allies surround Städal and begin reciting their Prayers.

First, Prince Zenon:

“Infinite Gods Above and Holy Spirits of the Blood, hear my Prayer:

In mine own name of Zeus, I beseech you;

Cast down lighting from on high,

With your bolts a bridge make between Heaven and Earth.

Thunder resound in the souls of all living creatures,

And let loose cries of lamentation by cutting light into ground.

Show to us, oh Gods and Spirits,

How even Blood may be broken.”

And then Nikeh:

“Infinite Gods Above and Holy Spirits of the Blood, hear my Prayer:

In mine own name of Hera, I beseech you;

Flood this land with Mother Fountainhead,

Give birth to this world with her Living Water.

Exalted above all who reside betwixt sky and sea,

Let her sole superior soul, the Water of Life itself,

Become the Blood that flows through and fills

The veins of all living things.”

Satanás, Benjamine, and all the others also begin reciting their Prayers to the Guardian Spirits. Their bodies begin to glow, flaring brightly once the recitation is finished and the spell activated.

“Infinite Gods Above and Holy Spirits of the Blood, hear my Prayer:

In mine own name of Perseus, I beseech you;

With the unceasing winds of this Earth,

Wither all life with unstoppable wrath.

The shapeless form of their being,

Every living creature shall know—”

With the uncanny roar of an oncoming tornado, a wind begins to blow, as the greatest attack spell each of them possesses erupts out from their fingertips and into the stadium.

“Have I not told you? The more magic you use, the more I shall consume! Your sheer idiocy shall never cease to disgust me!”

Städal weathers the attacks head-on, as if to assert just how impotent they are against him. Even when Rockmann said his Prayer, all it did was blast him up into the air. The only wounds I see on him are those that I inflicted earlier. Still, impotent though these attacks may be against him, he’s still struggling to repel them away from the demon horde waiting above him.

From the very beginning, we’d known these attacks wouldn’t damage him. That’s why our strategy hadn’t been to defeat him with the other elements—all my friends need to do right now is to create an opening, a moment of weakness for me to slip in and attack him with Ice directly. Thanks to them, I can come all the way up to him, reach out, grab on, and cast—

“Absolute Zero.”

“What?!”

I’ve slipped behind Städal’s defense to come at him from behind. I cling tightly to both of his dark, scaled arms, and release the spell. With Zozo’s uniform, I was able to sneak up on him unawares. This uniform of hers is rather extraordinary. She told me it was capable of completely concealing the wearer’s presence, but to fool even a monster like this...? Marvelous. I’m not riding Lala because she wouldn’t have been concealed by the uniform, so I’m having to make do by slowly, clumsily pushing myself up through the air via levitation spells. Success.

While Städal remains distracted by everyone reciting and releasing their Prayers to the Guardian Spirits, I unleash my final attack on him, a spell that will require all the magic I have left within me.

My friends who have flown up with me fall down to the ground, having exhausted their power. Below, I see Prince Maiteiah and the others waiting inside the shield, working together with Princess Bella to catch them all before they hit the ground.

Benjamine, Nikeh, Satanás, Prince Zenon, Zozo, Mr. Alkes, the Director, the Knight Commander, Mr. Borizurie, all those Knights...and Alois Rockmann. It’s because all of you helped me that I was able to make it this far.

I recall something Zozo said to me while we were working one day.

“Nanalie, did you come to work at Harré because you aspired to become like a receptionist lady you saw working here one day?”

“Yes, I did, embarrassing as that is to admit.”

“It’s not embarrassing at all! Hey, let me ask you this: what do you think that receptionists really do?”

“What they ‘really do’?”

She’d grinned and said, “They make connections.”

“‘Make connections’?”

I’d tilted my head to one side, confused. She just smiled at me again before explaining:

“We receive a person’s request, and we make a connection. We connect people with each other, connect one lifestyle to another, connect a source of money to a need for money. In the end, our job is all about making connections. Can’t you see? The reason you and I are sitting here together, having this conversation, why—it’s probably all because that receptionist lady somehow connected the two of us.” She’d patted my head fondly, continuing to smile all the while. “Fate can be a funny thing, don’t you think?”

That receptionist lady—the Director—had connected the two of us. She had fastened our fates together: hers, mine, and a good number of others’. My father, of course, had been the one who first brought me to Harré, but there is no doubt in my mind: the reason I’ve made all these connections at Harré, the reason I connected with all my friends back at school, it was all thanks to her.

This time, I want to be the one who makes the connection.

“Y-You bitch! Seek to do the same thing that Ice did to me, do you?! Freeze me as you will; I shall take your power—I shall consume it! This body of mine is filled with the blood I stole from several Humans, all of whom possessed the pure magic of Ice! I’d thought your power to be hidden away deep within the sea, but a strange twist of fate has brought you here before me! And yet, our meeting was inevitable—for I know just how dearly Ice has wished to see me once more!!”

Creak! Crack! I focus so intently that I feel as though the core of my being may break under the force of my concentration. He should be frozen over by now. Why is this so difficult? Is it because, like he says, he’s absorbing my magic? My whole body begins to feel heavy and weak. If the power of the Ice Ancient truly is within me, please, just let me hold out for a bit longer, until I can finish him off.

“You’re doing fine. Remain just as you are.”

(What was that?)

I’d been on the brink of preparing for my own imminent death—when all of a sudden, I hear the soft voice of a kind lady echo inside my head. The pain and struggle I’d been feeling somehow eases. Städal doesn’t appear to find my suddenly calm disposition suspicious, however, and only continues to cackle at my efforts. Did I imagine that voice just now? My question is quickly answered when I hear it speak to me again.

“I am the Firstborn of this world, and I bear the power of Ice.”

Along with the sound of her voice, images flash through my mind.

A wide field. Six men and women wearing thin, loose garments. All of them smiling, singing and dancing, looking happy.

The scene changes. Five are holding hands in a circle, casting a spell on something. In the middle of them all, a little creature like a black dragon—but somehow also like a human baby—takes shape.

(Is that Städal? Is this an old memory of hers?)

After that, I see the five often taking good care of the baby, in their own ways—but there is another who watches him even more than the rest. She, a woman with white hair, is the only one who did not take part in Städal’s birth. The woman holds him in her arms, sunlight shining down on them both. A small shard of ice materializes in her hand, and she gently presses it against the baby’s cheek. Most likely, she is the one future generations shall call the Ice Ancient.

The scene changes once more. I am standing in a grassy field, and before me I see the Ice Ancient and a red-haired man kissing. If their hair color signifies their magic type, he’s probably the Fire Ancient.

From far off watches Städal, who has now grown to have the body and mind of an adult. The glare in his eyes, the expression he has on his face as he looks at them—as he looks at the Fire Ancient—is terrifying. Even without words, I can tell he hates him.

Another scene change. Städal has crafted demons with his magic. They are strange creatures, likely things only he can create. They are neither mischievous nor malevolent. He seems to have summoned them only to prove his strength to the Ice Ancient.

But even with this show of force, she does not fall in love with Städal. Eventually, he uses his demons to attack all five of the other Ancients present. The woman in my head speculates as to why he does so. “He attacked out of loathing, out of jealousy of the other five, and knew he possessed the power to withstand their abilities. No longer able to control him, I gathered all my power to freeze and destroy him.”

Since all I had seen so far had been described in Genesis, I had guessed at how this story might end. “Despite my efforts, however, he was not utterly defeated. Years later, the shards that had been scattered across this wide world became conscious, and transformed into creatures unthinkably alien.”

So Städal had been in love with Ice, then. But his love was broken, and despite her tender affection he grew to resent her, to the point where he lashed out in violence against all the Ancients.

“Hundreds of years later, humans and the other animals were born. Power was granted to them, but the demons sought to steal the power of Ice I possessed, and so it was thought I should be hidden away. I, the woman called even now the Ice Ancient, had my soul and power sunk to the bottom of the ocean. To depths of the sea so dark and far, no demon would ever trouble my sleep. I was given to none other than the first Lord of the Sea, Celestialea.”

I suddenly feel the blood in my body begin to seethe. My hands grip Städal all the tighter.

“What’s this...? You come inside me, even without my consuming you! Ah, I understand, you must have missed me dearly, O Ice.”

“Do you not know, beast, that you are freezing over?”

“That voice—Ice!”

A voice only I should have been able to hear now appears to be audible to Städal as well. The spirit of the Ice Ancient must be leaving me and entering Städal, flowing out with my magic.

“Annihilate thyself. Even if I cannot ensure your sundering is eternal, know this: this age, of this world...it is not yours.”

“Oh! Dear Ice of mine! Around and around I feel you race inside of me! To think that becoming one with you should bring me such pleasure and comfort! Ice, darling Ice of mine—let us rule this world, you and I! We simply need to vanish away all those creatures that would seek to come between us, isn’t that right, my darling Ice?”

“Yes, you’re right. Shall we vanish, then? Together.”

“Ahhh, what sacred bliss...!”

His voice still raised in exaltation of Ice, Städal is, at last, totally frozen over. He cannot speak, he cannot move. Petrified in solid crystal, his body merely hovers there in the air.

My whole being feels weak, as though my very life has been sucked out of me. Yet, I am not done; I lift my shaking right hand and press my thumb and middle finger together, ready to snap destruction.

“Nanalie.”

With her kind voice, full of affection, the Ice Ancient calls my name. Even until the very end, however, I never see any trace of her with my eyes.

“A long time ago, Städal took all those who inherit the blood of Ice and cursed them, so that they could not bear children with any other who had inherited the blood of Fire.”

“I can’t...have children?”

“But after one thousand years, that curse is beginning to lose its power.”

I cannot see her, but I feel a chill breath against my forehead.

“Please, do be kind to him.”

And with those words, I hear no more. I close my eyes. Slowly, I snap my fingers.

With a million clicks and cracks, the vanquished Städal crumbles into fragments of ice; a million tiny icicles shower the ground like falling stars.

All my power gone, I tumble with them, down to the ground below. There’s not a single island floating in the air above me.

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen such a sky.