Episode 17

“Only us…? Then all the people of Apion…?”

“It’s their way of saying they could have done this anytime.”

Those who had collapsed did not stir.

At first it had begun with malaise and, over time, a few cases. Now it skipped the lead-up and sent people straight into coma.

“Why would they do this…?”

“How should I know?”

Their aim was unknown. If the goal was simply to bring Apion down, there was no need for stages. Perhaps the curse had limits, or there were other reasons. In any case, it was beyond those present to gauge.

“A-at any rate, we have to call for reinforcements!”

“Still babbling nonsense? From where do you expect help to come in this state?”

No caster would kindly let targets slip away. Horses as couriers might have been targeted, and even if not, poorly chosen reinforcements would not solve anything.

“Same as with divine arts. You think the kingdom will swallow your and my testimony whole? Suppose by a miracle they did—how do you handle a curse on this scale?”

Handling hexcraft and treating patients required users of divine arts. Sending them only for healing was one thing, but a worst case would deliver those users into the enemy’s hands. It was imaginable the curse was bait to draw in royalty.

“Even so, I don’t think the two of us can resolve this. We don’t know the enemy’s strength, and it’s as if they’re holding the townsfolk hostage.”

“…”

“If Apion is only their first battle, there will be a next target…”

“…”

“At this point, it’s no longer something we can handle alone.”

“…That again. You forever read the room and hand the crucial decisions to someone else.”

Disappointment—and incomprehension. Zeke’s eyes turned cold.

“You plan to obey from birth to death. Does that satisfy you?”

“I only… meant to fulfill my duty.”

“What a shabby excuse. In the end you just want relief. ‘It isn’t my fault, I was following orders’—so you justify staying right where you are.”

She hadn’t wanted to be born of ducal blood. Even so, she had studied, trained in arms and magic to a high level, desperate to be acknowledged as fitting her station.

“Why do you… say such cruel things…? I only…”

“Why? That’s obvious. …Because I don’t like you.”

“…Eh?”

Three years had passed since Hiroto possessed the body of Zeke Lagias, the most notorious villain of Wish Soul.

Magic didn’t exist in his old world. When he found he could cast like in the game, he’d gotten excited—thrilled to see more spells. When he swung a sword, the wind roared; when he ran, he outpaced carriages. Reality felt game-like—and effort produced visible gains. That moved him… at first.

However beloved the game, he was still a high-schooler—inside a villain who wasn’t some early-chapter mob, but a plotted antagonist entwined with the story.

Follow the scenario, and a certain death awaited. Promised death. Hiroto wasn’t deranged enough to enjoy that.

“Judging from you, your life wasn’t much. A duke’s by-blow—given this kingdom, inevitable.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine: in a world with ranks, life paths were set at birth. There were exceptions, but commoners didn’t become kings, and royals bore responsibility.

“Why you? Why won’t anyone help? …Something like that?”

He had parents, a home, school and play—never once had his daily life threatened his life. That was normal.

“Must’ve been rough. …So what?”

His gaze pierced Ciel—no room for self-pity.

“You bragging about misfortune? I don’t care about your circumstances. I’m not interested.”

He understood she had a dark backstory—he couldn’t empathize.

He’d woken up as someone else—already marked for death and hated by all sides. He refused to accept it and fought to change the future, and still the fear clung. He had no confidants; he was despised for things he hadn’t done.

“Didn’t want to be born a duke’s child? Don’t care. You were—so do the job.”

Ciel was a main party member in the original. Whether history would repeat, Hiroto was fighting to bend it—and needed it to. She might fail to reach that role—or exit before the story began. But she was still a main character.

Even if her current status was rock bottom, that didn’t change the fact she had the potential to overturn it. Like Glanz, Ciel was abnormal.

She had talent, could command people, had standing, and was well-favored—a popular main character.

And what of him?

Despised by the story and its fans, and likewise in this world. Speak to his household—get prostrations. Help someone—get begged for his life. Raise funds for the future—get treated like a schemer.

How many times had he raged internally: What is wrong with these people?

From Ciel’s view, it was petty. But Hiroto couldn’t accept it. He wasn’t a character flagged for death; she should get on with it. …Given it was pre-story, she could even save the villain.

“You’re not special. You haven’t monopolized the world’s misfortune. It makes me sick.”

It pained him that she might one day be his enemy, but as a fan, he wanted her original brilliance.

“…You have power. Talent that won’t let royals or the Church keep up.”

“How could… you know that? No matter how I tried, I couldn’t! They called me defective and told me to die cleanly for the kingdom!”

Zeke’s mouth curved like a crescent; his blue eyes gleamed, strangely compelling.

“Hah. That’s obvious. …Because I recognize you as special. Don’t lump yourself with the rabble.”

“W-what are you even saying!?”

“With your power, we’ll smash the mastermind. Shut up and follow me.”

He seized Ciel’s wrist and drew her outside. Enough. He would end it by force. To hell with any ‘awakening event,’ he thought grimly.

They emerged into an open space—once a plaza—now deserted. The comatose only deepened the desolation.

“So the whole town is… like this.”

“Predictable. …More importantly, let’s finish it.”

“I—I’m honored that you… think well of me, but I still can’t defeat the enemy…”

She stammered out her view. Feeling the damage the curse had done across Apion, she lowered her head. I can’t do this.

“…What are you on about? I never asked you to beat the enemy. I’m using your power to drag the creep out.”

“Drag them out? But I still can’t use divine arts. All I can do is sense the curse…”

“Idiot. At first, you couldn’t even sense it. Now you can—that’s enough.”

He didn’t forget to belittle her—“ant-level progress”—even now. Hiroto, despite himself, was impressed by the consistency.

“Eh!? What do you mean? What are we about to do?”

“Shut up and focus. …I’ll teach you how to use your power.”

He kept hold of her wrist. She had been flustered along the way, but shifted her mindset at his expression.

Mana surged around Zeke like a flood. A vast power Ciel had never witnessed wrapped her.

“—!? This is—!?”

She felt mana from outside entering her. She balked at its magnitude, then gradually settled.

(I’m getting used to it? No… he’s matching his mana to me—adjusting it?)

Mana began to overlap and become one. It wasn’t ‘coordination’ so much as a brute-force linkage, knitting their flows into shape.

(So delicate a control—only a rare few in the Mage Corps could do this… And this is our first time linking.)

Different mana, layered. Despite his words, there was a warmth—something familiar—unlike what his demeanor suggested. She remembered soft hours with her mother.

“I see. This is the mana that forms the basis of divine arts… We can use this. Good experience. I’ll praise you.”

Iridescent light covered them both, as if heaven itself were blessing them.

“Argendicare.”

A silver radiance poured down over all of Apion.

—At that moment, judgment fell upon the defiled.