Episode 37

It looked as if the world had been cut out. The earth lost its color, living things perished, and mana was gone.

What spread before Zeke was something that had once been part of the world—a realm of death that had appeared in the center of the vast Igza Plains. Though the magic triggered via Unison Link had already ended, its impact was far too great.

“…Is he really human, like us?”

“He’s human. That’s why we’re alive.”

Behind Zeke, outside the spell’s effective range, nothing had changed. The masked man explained that this was because Zeke had taken them into account. Judging by the result alone, that might be true—but Hares did not know Zeke well enough to accept those words at face value.

The Lagias private soldiers had fought nonstop to this point. Zeke had been the core of the Unison Link, but they had been part of it as well.

Their complexions were pale and their breathing ragged. Some were on their knees. Symptoms of mana depletion were showing.

“Hmph. The precision is still low. The timing is off. What else…”

Zeke muttered to himself. While the private soldiers were battered, Zeke showed no change. On the surface, he was the same as ever… on the surface.

“I don’t feel the enemy’s presence—nor mana itself. Like this, we can’t weave magic at all…”

“Endless monster summoning, was it? Then put a limit on the act itself. Erase mana… How terrifying.”

A land where mana had run dry. In this world, that was counted among calamities. To sever living beings from mana meant death.

Plants, animals, and even the air contained mana. Humans took mana into their bodies and emitted it without realizing it. Living things maintained equilibrium unconsciously by balancing the mana within and the mana without.

“It varies by person, but there’s a limit to how much mana a human can possess. That’s why cooperative casting and Unison Link were developed.”

All people in this world were born with mana. Bloodline and talent made a difference, but training could increase one’s total mana. Those who used mana daily showed this more markedly.

To survive a world teeming with monsters, humans needed to gain strength.

“Even so, there are limits. …You’re pushing yourself quite a bit right now, aren’t you?”

“Don’t talk like you know me.”

“Cold Realm Summoning.”

In the original story it was one of the ancient spells Zeke used only once. Unlike Zeke (Hiroto) just now, who fired it via Unison Link, he had activated that forbidden spell under a certain special condition—

For selfish gain alone, he erased an entire city, residents included. Old or young made no difference; he obliterated everything for his ambition.

“I don’t know you in detail. Even so, let me say this: by my position I’ve seen a great many talents—older, younger, it doesn’t matter.”

Yorn had long worked as a mage. He had seen brilliant prodigies, late bloomers who grew slowly, and those who sat cross-legged on their inborn gifts.

“Your power is too strong. What are you trying to accomplish with it? …Excessive power destroys its bearer.”

“…”

“You must know the role La-gi-as plays.”

The “role of Lagias.” The unfamiliar phrase made Luke feel uneasy for some reason.

“Lagias being incompetent and mired in bad reputation is just right. That’s how the balance has been kept.”

“Mr. Yorn. If you say any more, I’ll have to act as well…?”

“You’re just a passerby, aren’t you? What exactly would you do?”

The masked man shrugged—touché. He had no intention of intruding into the exchange.

“Precisely because you understand the reality so well, you— ‘That’s enough.’”

A sharp gaze pierced Yorn. Those cold eyes reflected everything equally—equally rejecting all.

“I’ve let you talk, and you prattle as you please. Playing the sage—or a two-bit thug?”

The oppressive pressure from Zeke, laced with killing intent, made most flinch in fear. Some even fainted.

Yorn too stiffened, but what he felt was not fear—it was rejection. A will like a warning: do not step further.

“Then take the same words back. …I haven’t fallen so low as to accept your charity.”

Absolute confidence born of power—rejecting others, making them submit, at times inspiring awe. One might call it the charisma of a villain that had influenced many.

Yet Yorn thought none of that. Zeke too feared something. Whether it was related to Lagias’s role, he could not say.

“To be told the same as by the Sage—what an honor. …I’ll say no more.”

“Come to the Mage Corps if you need something.”

Yorn finished. The threatening air slowly dissipated.

The battle on the Igza Plains drew its curtain. After Zeke’s ravaging, the repeated monster assaults ceased, and the party—knights foremost—moved to return to the capital.

“Then, everyone, until we meet again. Hiya—!”

Whether he had prepared it himself or not, the masked man mounted a white horse and galloped briskly toward the capital—his mask half-falling, his clothes in tatters, a sight beyond words.

Knights and mages formed ranks around the examinees and began to move. With so many wounded, there was no time to dawdle. They needed to report at once, and there were many things to verify.

“Carriages at the ready—impressive.”

“Not for you.”

The Lagias private soldiers boarded carriages and started off in the opposite direction of the capital. By now it went without saying: if Lagias troops suddenly showed up in the capital, it would obviously spark unnecessary trouble.

“Things will get busy once we return. …Luke, I want you to come to Spirito for now. Not only because you distinguished yourself—because you’re also an examinee.”

“Yes, I understand… but could you go ahead? I’ll catch up.”

Yorn looked at Luke, then at Zeke, and nodded.

“Alright. But if you’re too slow, we might leave you behind.”

Knights, mages, examinees, and Lagias soldiers all set out, and only two remained.

“Zeke… you saved me again.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea. It was for my own reasons.”

Their usual easy exchange. Moments ago, their lives had been in danger; now, there wasn’t a trace of monsters.

“I’m surprised, though. You even brought Simon and the others.”

“It should serve as a good lesson for them.”

Only safe words came out. Luke had so many other things he wanted to ask and say.

Are you alright? Was it fine to mobilize the guard? What was the enemy’s goal—and that magic? Why did his friend always take reckless burdens alone? Why wouldn’t he rely on Luke more?

“This is reality. What did you think when you saw that Knight Order?”

“What… do you mean?”

Luke understood what Zeke was getting at. But he could not readily accept it—it felt like denying everything he had been until now.

“A few have some measure of power; the rest are useless trash. And the pitiful incompetents who aspire to become that trash.”

There had been many casualties. Thanks to some exceptional people—Yorn, the masked man, Hares—they had perhaps kept the damage down. Conversely, it was true that others had dragged them back.

“The army has the sort who are clever in the worst ways. Fools who would cut loose the volunteers to strike the enemy. …I do agree with cutting the incompetent trash, though.”

Some in the national army had predicted the assault. They tried to outmaneuver the enemy by using the entrance test—only to magnify the damage.

“What do you want to do? Do you truly think the corrupt have a future?”

Even apart from Luke, many must have questioned the Knight Order and Mage Corps. Who would feel good about being used as bait?

“Is that what you’ve been aiming for? Think about your path. You have another place to belong.”

Zeke did not waste words or actions—each carried meaning. The taciturn friend was trying to tell him something.

—This might be a branching point.

“Come to my side. I’ll show you the way.”

This choice would decisively change something—set their paths apart. Things might never be the same. Luke couldn’t shake that feeling.

To become a knight—that had been a blind, childish dream. He admired his father, wanted only to chase that broad back, and looked away from what he did not want to see.

He had been struck by unreasonable misfortune.
He had been saved by an overwhelming existence.

He had been shown unwavering will.

Somewhere along the way, a mere dream became a clear goal. The core that admired knights was still there. What differed from before was the wish to stand equal with his friend—to help the friend who tried to shoulder everything alone; to save many as his friend did; to smile at his best friend’s side.

His answer was already set. Even if something changed, he had to choose.

“I’ll aim to be a knight. If something needs changing, I’ll set it right… even if it takes a lifetime.”

Smiling shyly, Luke looked his age. The way he stared straight at Zeke was unchanged from the original.

“I see… Then go. If you fail, that’s on you.”

“Need a hand?”

“No.”

“Alright, I’m off. You’ve got business in the capital too, right?”

Saying “See you next time,” Luke ran after the knights.

A quiet wind brushed his cheek.

Only the villain remained.

Zeke (Hiroto) stood alone on the sprawling Igza Plains—a land with no humans and no monsters. At his feet, a red flower had bloomed.

“Cough… What a fragile body.”

He spat blood and fell to one knee. His body burned, and the bleeding would not stop. Anyone could see it—he was gravely wounded.

He had handled the troublesome magic circles that appeared on the Igza Plains, alone, with no one’s help—facing scores and hundreds of monsters. However great Zeke’s potential, as Yorn said, there were limits. His mana and stamina had already reached them.

(Not yet… not enough.)

Fighting alone, he saw a brilliant light far off. He immediately guessed it was Fonsell’s finisher from the original story. So he hadn’t been mistaken.

“—!? Gah… Damn it.”

No magic persisted forever. He had fired the star-falling spell thinking it would be the last. It should have ended there. But the monster assault did not stop.

It had been a gamble—the Unison Link using the private guard, a mere draft of a concept. It was the only card left.

(Surpassing the original Zeke changes nothing—cannot change anything.)

A forbidden spell to break the world and spin new law—its effect, scale, risk, and collateral. He understood it all, and still had no choice but to cast it. If he had slipped in control, they might all have died.

(With power like this… I’m nowhere close. At least I need to cast Cold Realm Summoning by myself.)

To defy the rules of this world—the system of the world—he had to grow stronger. Luke, in the end, had not strayed from his path.

(I won’t die. I will survive, no matter what.)

If they told him to play the villain, he would oblige—and then overturn everything. So long as he lived in the end, that was enough.

(Even alone, it doesn’t matter. If you oppose me—righteous or evil…)

The sky darkened and rain fell. The vivid red flower on the ground scattered with time.

In the gloom, something glinted dully.

“I’m impressed. I’d heard ‘strong, strong,’ but you exceeded imagination.”

A shadow appeared on the rain-soaked Igza Plains.

“That one was a special model… A magic circle that keeps calling magic circles—ingenious, wasn’t it?”

For some reason the presence felt thin.

“Pulling out ancient magic—that’s cheating! Thanks to you, even a thought-form without a body took damage.”

The shadow thinned by the moment—about to vanish.

“The key reacted… I should advise them to lie low for a while. …Let’s leave Zeke Lagias alone.”

That one was the worst kind of calamity. Poke him, and he felt liable to chase you to the ends of the earth.

“For the effect to reach the main body… I’m exhausted. Still—how curious. Why does Lagias have knowledge of ancient magic? Maybe the whole house has been acting incompetent…”

The shadow dissolved into the pounding rain.