26

“Lizelotte-sama, pardon the intrusion. It is Kirishiya.”

In one room of the royal castle, Kirishiya knocked on the door and waited for a reply.

“Kirishiya, is it? You may enter.”

Kirishiya opened the door, bowed her head, and stepped inside.

The sun had fully set, and the only thing visible through the window was a half-waning moon.

A lavish magic lamp hanging from the ceiling, powered by mana crystals, shone brilliantly.

“What is it, Kirishiya? I did not summon you.”

Lizelotte spoke as she sat at a table, eating a meal.

“There is something I wish to ask regarding… the incident in the archive the other day.”

No matter how many times she saw it, Kirishiya could not get used to Lizelotte’s style of eating.

Even though it was night, before Lizelotte were light foods such as sandwiches, fried eggs, fruit, and milk. All of them were the sort of things one would eat for breakfast.

A meal like that was enough to make one’s body mistake the present time for morning.

“What about it? It has been settled, has it not? Of course, it will take a little time for the academy to be restored.”

Lizelotte stuffed a sandwich into her mouth almost forcefully and chewed it slowly.

“That is not what I mean. Why did you stop Ains-san at that time, Lizelotte-sama? Ains-san might have been able to give form to my wish—my ‘justice.’”

It was a powerful gaze filled with strength.

Lizelotte glanced at Kirishiya’s eyes, then immediately dropped her gaze to the fruit on the table.

“No, it would not have turned out that way.”

Lizelotte said it flatly.

“Why not?”

“Because it would have been sorcery. It would merely have expressed your ‘justice’ in the form of sorcery. If you were watching that scene as well, Kirishiya, then you should have faintly understood it, should you not? The true nature of sorcery.”

Lizelotte let out a sigh. She did not want to speak to Kirishiya about sorcery. If she heard about it, she would inevitably take an interest in it, and there was nothing more likely to dazzle a person with high aspirations who struggled without being able to realize them than that all-powerful aspect of sorcery.

But sorcery was not something so gentle.

“The true nature of sorcery is desire. It is the act of giving form to a desire that can be exchanged for nothing else—that is sorcery.”

“Yes, and that is why I wish to turn my sense of ‘justice’ into sorcery—”

“Your ‘justice’—is that truly a desire you yourself grasp with complete accuracy?”

“…What do you mean?”

“Desire is something that lies deep within the heart. So deep that even the person themself finds it difficult to grasp it completely. And sorcery is faithful to desire. It does not matter to sorcery whether the words spoken are beautiful ideals on the surface or ugly words beneath. Sorcery has no interest in that.”

Lizelotte tried to stab a round piece of fruit with her fork, but the fruit rolled away as though fleeing from it.

“If you wish to give form to ‘justice’ in particular, then all the more so, Kirishiya. Unless you completely tame your own desire, it will surely not become the sorcery you envision.”

“…”

“…Sorcery is personal desire. It is more unnatural for personal desire to be something for everyone. Somewhere within it there is always a flaw, ugliness, or cruelty. That is precisely why I stepped in between you and Ains. You have not yet faced your own desire and your ‘justice.’ Had you awakened to sorcery in that state, you would surely only have been tormented afterward by reality.”

Having grown annoyed with trying to stab the fruit with a fork, Lizelotte picked it up with her hand and put it into her mouth.

The sourness displeased Lizelotte.

“…”

“…Sorcery is not omnipotent. If it is sorcery awakened solely through one’s own feelings, then that is still acceptable. But the shape of a desire realized by borrowing another person’s words is never fully understood, and there will always be a great gap. Moreover, sorcery carries a binding that people like you do not know of. Even if it does not manifest as the ideal sorcery you imagined, the binding of sorcery will still exist without fail.”

Kirishiya could vaguely understand and accept everything Lizelotte said except for the point about “the binding of sorcery.”

And in other words, this meant that once again Kirishiya had been protected by Lizelotte.

“Your ‘justice’ can be realized through means other than sorcery, so long as you do not lose that resolve. And if, by chance, it is through your own wish alone that you arrive at sorcery, then that would truly be the proper ‘sorcery of justice’ for you, Kirishiya. When that time comes, I too shall welcome you.”

Yet Lizelotte’s expression as she spoke did not contain the slightest trace of welcome or joy. If anything, it seemed the opposite.

“After sending me back from the archive, did you speak with Ains-san about anything?”

“I did nothing at all. He was hostile toward me, certainly, but had we fought there, it would only have been a meaningless waste of time for both of us. The ‘death’ of a sorcerer is judged only by Restriction.”

Restriction? Kirishiya wondered, but then she assumed it must be an obvious, commonplace fact among sorcerers.

“Even so, both Ains-san and Lizelotte-sama are still… human, are you not?”

“Hehe, ‘human,’ is it? It has been so long that I had forgotten to define myself as one. But yes, both he and I bleed, and we age. If we do not take in nourishment, we fall ill, and we can starve to death. If a longsword pierces the chest, the heart stops just the same. There is no difference there. But for a sorcerer, ‘death’ does not lie there, Kirishiya. The binding of sorcery does not allow it.”

“…”

To Kirishiya, none of it was comprehensible at all. But she could vaguely recognize that sorcery was not as beautiful or all-powerful as she had imagined. More than that, she felt that it contained something frightening within it.

“Is that all you wished to ask? Then return. It is already quite late.”

“…Yes, thank you very much, Lizelotte-sama. Thank you for giving me your valuable time.”

Kirishiya bowed her head.

“It is fine, it is fine. You know what they call me, do you not? The Eternal Witch. Most of the time I spend is meaningless. It really is a good thing to exchange words with people. Spending such long stretches of time alone is dreadfully dull.”

Lizelotte lowered the corners of her eyes and looked at Kirishiya after she raised her head.

Seeing Lizelotte’s gentle expression, Kirishiya let out a quiet breath of relief.

She then opened the door, and just before leaving, bowed once more before departing.

The sound of the door closing echoed, leaving Lizelotte alone in the room.

“…Honestly. Kirishiya’s sense of self is wavering, and yet what are Wenceslav and Haral doing? …Those two always end up too late at the decisive moment. Blood will tell, I suppose.”

Murmuring so while looking at the empty plates, Lizelotte then mocked herself.