Demon Sword Master of the Holy Sword Academy - Volume 4 - Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

EXCALIBUR ACADEMY’S FESTIVAL

“The warrior Amilas, the grappler Dorug, and the archmage Nefisgal. The proud Three Champions of Rognas. In honor of your distinguished service during this recent campaign, I bestow a Devil Bone Medal upon you three.”

“A-a Devil Bone Medal?!”

“How awe-inspiring…!”

“Is that not one of the greatest honors one in the Dark Lords’ Armies can receive?!”

The three skeletal knights clattered their remaining teeth in excitement as they wept tears of gratitude.

“You deserve it,” Leonis responded with a magnanimous nod. “Your achievements are great. Take pride in yourselves.”

They were in Leonis’s room, on the second floor of the Hræsvelgr dorm. A little more than three days had passed since the investigation of the Third Assault Garden. Having finally awakened from the fatigue induced by using the Demon Sword Dáinsleif, Leonis elected to reward the three knights for their contribution in battle.

I must establish that while punishment will be severe in the newly reformed Dark Lords’ Armies, effort will be generously compensated.

Despite being deep within enemy territory, the three skeletal knights had done a splendid job of guarding his minion, Riselia. They’d demonstrated their vigorous strength during the fight against the Voids as well. Such achievements were more than sufficient to earn them a Devil Bone Medal.

“Hmm. Leo, is that little…bone toy of yours really that big of a deal?” Riselia asked, her ice-blue eyes regarding the badge with doubt.

“Y-you do not know, Lady Riselia?!” Amilas rattled in surprise.

“Why, a Devil Bone Medal is the greatest decoration an undead could hope to earn!” Dorug prattled.

“…It is?” Riselia asked, looking utterly perplexed.

“In that case, I shall receive the medal as the representative of our order!” the robed skeleton, Nefisgal, said as he made to put away the medal.

“Wait just one moment, Old Nefisgal! That will simply not do!”

“The one to hog all the glory should be the one who contributed the most! In other words, it should be me, Hell’s Grappler, Dorug!”

“How could you say that? I haven’t much life left in my old bones. It would only be fair to relinquish it to me.”

“We are undead, Nefisgal. There hasn’t been any life in any of our bones in recent memory! Now, go on, hand it over—”

“Oh, no, no, no, I am most worthy of this reward!”

The trio’s quarrel devolved into a scuffle, and soon the three skeletons were tangled together in a marrowy jumble of fisticuffs.

“…Grr, you three…!” Leonis groaned, holding a finger against his temple in annoyance. “Enough of this. Hold a duel or whichever contest you prefer and decide who shall receive the prize.”

Holding up his Staff of Sealed Sins, Leonis dropped the three lumped-up skeletons into his shadow. The Champions of Rognas kept on wrestling as they sank into the floor.

“…I swear. Their strength as undead is without question, but why must they be so…?” Leonis whispered in exasperation, his shoulders drooping.

Riselia, however, chuckled in a wry manner.

“Wh-what?” he asked.

“Your friends are pretty funny, Leo.”

Feeling a blush creep onto his cheeks, Leonis gave a dry cough. “I have a medal prepared for you as well, Miss Selia.”

“…Huh?”

Leonis brandished his staff, producing a skull the size of one’s hand that levitated in the air.

“L-Leo, what’s this?” Riselia asked.

“An Arch Death Medallion,” Leonis answered with a solemn tone. “Do accept it.”

Had the Three Champions of Rognas still been there, they likely would have raised their voices in shock. This was the highest-caliber award, made from applying golden leaves to a real dragon’s skull. Only the greatest generals of the Dark Lords’ Armies were bequeathed one.

Leonis was confident, however, that Riselia had done enough to earn this trophy. During the battle with Tearis Resurrectia, a member of the Six Heroes who’d been turned into a Void, she’d shared her blood with Leonis when he was injured. This act had saved him in his time of crisis. Plus, her blood had also served to awaken sealed memories regarding the goddess Roselia.

“Now, no need to feel reserved. Take it,” urged Leonis.

“H-hmm…”

The Dark Lord offered Riselia the shining golden dragon skull. However, the young woman shook her head uncomfortably.

“I-I’m fine. I don’t need it! Knowing you’re grateful is enough for me,” she said, patting Leonis gently on the head.

“Y-you don’t need it?” This unexpected response seemingly flustered Leonis. “It’s an Arch Death Medallion, you know!”

“Y-yeah. I mean, you gave me that pretty dress, right?”

“Right…”

Indeed, he’d gifted Riselia the True Ancestor’s Dress, an item rare and valuable enough to be referred to as a national treasure. That hadn’t been a reward, though. Leonis had always intended to give that to Riselia.

“Then, do you want something else? While not quite a match for the Arch Death Medallion, I could bequeath you a Death Chariot or a Staff of Hell—”

Leonis hurriedly tried to offer her alternatives, and Riselia regarded him with a strained smile. Squatting down, she hugged Leonis’s head tightly.

“M-Miss Selia…?”

“Listen, Leo,” she whispered into his ear. “The best prize is seeing everyone back safely. And that’s all thanks to you.”

“Aaah…” Leonis stiffened.

Riselia’s fingertips had a coolness to them, a unique vampiric trait, and her silvery locks brushed gently against his neck.

“Now, we should be getting ready for breakfast. Regina’s waiting for us.”

Riselia got to her feet and sauntered out of the room, her uniform’s skirt wavering as she did. Having been left behind, Leonis scratched his flushed cheeks and returned the medallion into his shadow.

Such humility. Any of my other subordinates would have squabbled over this reward. Leonis felt his admiration for Riselia increase, as it often did. Naturally, his minion had no way of knowing that.

With the skeletal knights out of sight, Leonis shifted his room’s curtains and opened the window. Leonis wasn’t one for bathing in sunlight, but by now, he’d gotten used to it.

Occasionally, he felt a tinge of longing for his stone coffin in the Grand Mausoleum, but when he once tried to sleep in the dark closet, Riselia got angry at him when she came to wake him up. She told him, “You’re not a vampire.” To which he’d dryly replied that she was, which only served to make her angrier.

Leonis activated the small terminal on his desk, checking the report Shary had brought him. He’d already grown used to using these devices that operated on magical technology. It’d been three days since his team had returned from their investigation on the Third Assault Garden. Of course, calling their excursion something so mundane wasn’t nearly enough to sum up all the things that had happened, but that was beside the point.

“No information about that man…,” Leonis whispered to himself, sighing internally.

Nefakess Reizaad. One thousand years ago, the slender white-haired man had been a retainer to Azra-Ael, the Devil of the Underworld. It was clear that he’d been involved in the attempt to bring Tearis Resurrectia—the Holy Woman of the Six Heroes who had been turned into a Void—back to life.

Moreover, it was evident he possessed information regarding the goddess Roselia, whom Leonis sought. He’d stated that Roselia was to awaken using the Holy Woman’s body as a vessel. And indeed, Leonis had confirmed that the goddess’s soul had dwelled within Tearis Resurrectia’s body.

However, her soul, much like her vessel, had been defiled and polluted by emptiness.

“I need you to promise me. In the distant future, if I change and become something else… I want you to kill me with that Demon Sword… And then… Please find the real me.”

Roselia’s words had been locked away in Leonis’s mind until recently. Her divine foresight allowed her to foresee the possibility that the power of the Voids might tarnish her soul.

And that’s why she split her spirit into several fragments…

Roselia had tasked Leonis with freeing the parts of her soul polluted by the Voids and finding her true form. Right now, the only tangible clue he had was the Devil of the Underworld’s retainer.

I must use all the Dark Lords’ Armies’ resources to seek him out.

Leonis’s grip around the Staff of Sealed Sins tightened.

“Don’t think you can run from a Dark Lord forever… Heh-heh-heh…” He chuckled menacingly, an evil look in his eyes.

“—ord… Hmm, my lord?”

Feeling a tug on his uniform’s sleeve, Leonis looked down, and his brow furrowed. “Mm?”

“I have a report, my lord…”

Beneath him was the upper half of a girl clad in a maid’s uniform. Her lower portion was submerged in his shadow on the floor.

“Oh, Shary. Very well,” stated Leonis.

“Thank you. Excuse me, my lord…” Shary Corvette Shadow Assassin silently crawled out of the dark. She was a lovely creature with dusk-colored eyes and black hair. The girl was a covert killer and Leonis’s servant.

Shary levitated for a moment in front of Leonis before the tips of her shoes clicked on the floor. She greeted her master with a dignified curtsy.

“You mentioned a report. Is it about Nefakess Reizaad?” Leonis questioned.

“No, I haven’t discovered anything about him yet. My apologies,” replied Shary as she shook her head slowly.

“I see. Then, what is it?”

“It’s about the remnants of the Sovereign Wolves group, who joined your ranks recently. Fourteen more of their former members have offered to join your side.”

“Oh, so the Demon Wolf Pack continues to grow.” Leonis nodded to himself at this development, looking pleased.

The Demon Wolf Pack was a group composed of core members of the Sovereign Wolves group, an organization of anti-imperial demi-human terrorists. Following the seajacking of the royal family’s personal vessel, the Hyperion, they lost their leader and were on the verge of collapse. Leonis swooped in to fill the gap left in the wake of their commander’s death, integrating them into his own forces.

Initially, there were only thirty or so members of the Demon Wolf Pack, but Leonis had subordinates actively scouting demi-human ruffians who were displeased with the Human Empire. At present, their ranks had swelled to sixty.

Leonis secretly hoped that one day, when he would announce his second coming to this world as the Undead King, this organization would come to form the core of the new Dark Lords’ Armies.

“Let them do so. I leave judgment of who to scout up to you.”

“May I really make that decision?” Shary confirmed.

“Yes, go ahead.”

Shary was likely concerned that mindlessly adding more members to the group might result in problems cropping up at unexpected junctures. Her doubts were reasonable. Unlike the undead who made up the grand majority of Leonis’s army one thousand years ago, the Demon Wolf Pack was an assortment of different creatures from various walks of life. While the menace of the Undead King kept them in line, for the time being, that could change as the Demon Wolf Pack continued to grow.

But so be it…, mused Leonis. Leading such a heterogeneous group was a challenge he welcomed. Building the Dark Lords’ Armies into a full-fledged force demanded that kind of experience.

“Understood. I will do as such, then—”

Bowing respectfully, Shary began to sink back into Leonis’s shadow.

However, Leonis called out to stop her. “Wait, Shary.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“I still haven’t given you a reward, have I?” he asked.

“…?!” The maid’s dusk-colored eyes widened.

During their mission in the ruined city, Shary had been told to escort and guard Regina and the other girls—a task she had completed expertly. She’d also done well protecting Leonis’s kingdom’s people during the takeover of the Hyperion.

These accomplishments more than justified a medal.

“My lord, an award would be wasted on someone like me…,” Shary said as she bowed in reverence.

“No need for modesty.” Leonis shook his head. “Failure to recognize my minions’ accomplishments would tarnish my honor as a Dark Lord.”

“I see…”

“Now then, for your prize…”

“Is it doughnuts again?”

“Are doughnuts what you desire?”

“E-erm, anything would make me happy so long as it comes from you, my lord. But if possible, I’d prefer something that lasts longer… M-my apologies!” Shary waved her arms in a flustered manner.

“Hmm. Something more permanent, you say…”

Perhaps a Dragon Mask or a Devil King’s Gauntlet would do? Leonis turned down the idea almost as soon as it occurred to him. Both items were priceless treasures, but Shary was petite, and they wouldn’t suit her.

While Leonis continued to ponder his options, Shary suddenly asked, “Excuse me, but you gave your Vampire Queen minion the True Ancestor’s Dress, correct?”

“Mm? Yes, I thought it might be too soon, but Riselia Crystalia has the potential to serve as my right hand eventually. I’m sure she’ll master using it before long,” Leonis replied.

Shary pouted dejectedly at this. “M-my lord, are you considering making that girl your…b-bride?”

“M-my what?!” Leonis found himself stammering. “What do you mean, bride?!”

“The True Ancestor’s Dress is to be worn by a vampire woman who will be wed!” Shary asserted indignantly.

“W-well, that’s a custom unique to vampire culture!” Leonis hurriedly retorted. “I only gave her that outfit to increase her powers.”

“R-really…?” the assassin maid asked wearily.

Leonis nodded, to which Shary let out a relieved sigh, for whatever reason.

“Are you dissatisfied that I gave the dress to such an inexperienced minion?” Leonis inquired.

“No, I don’t intend to question your decisions, my lord.” Shary shook her head with an expressionless face.

The Undead King regarded his attendant pensively. “Hmm. Shary, what is your opinion of Riselia Crystalia?”

“Her skill with a sword is still lacking, but she grows at an astounding rate,” Shary said, remaining stoic. “As a leader, her judgment skills are extraordinary, and I must praise the effort she puts into her duties.”

“I see. It sounds like you’ve been observing her quite closely,” Leonis remarked, his tone betraying approval of Shary’s praise.

“I must be able to discern if she’s suitable enough to serve as your minion,” Shary replied flatly.

Having his favored underling receive such praise pleased Leonis. Suddenly, he recalled he was supposed to be granting Shary a reward, not talking up Riselia. “Right. What say you to a magical ring, then?” he suggested.

“A…ring?” Shary looked up at Leonis, wide-eyed. “I-I’m very happy, but…I’m not sure my heart is ready for this…”

The girl’s cheeks flushed a rosy color as Leonis offered her the band in question. It was a very ominous-looking, skull-shaped thing.

“It’s the Devil’s Ring. A mythology-class artifact I obtained when I defeated Zol-Azura, the Devil of Hades.”

“…”

“Mm? Is something the matter?”

“…No. Thank you kindly, my lord.”

For some reason, Leonis thought a shadow had settled over the light in Shary’s eyes, but he concluded he must have imagined it.

“Of course, it’s more than just mere decoration. If you charge it with mana, you should be able to summon the greatest, most powerful existence in the Dark Lords’ Armies and command it. Though the effect works only once.”

As Leonis explained the ring’s function boastfully, Shary quietly muttered something along the lines of “I would have preferred a regular one.” Her whisper failed to reach Leonis’s ears, however.

“Like a Greater Demon or an Elder Lich?” Shary asked.

“Well, I don’t know. We’d only know after you summon it.”

“I’ve no need for bodyguards. I am strong on my own.”

“Now, no need to say that. Take it. It may prove useful at some point down the line.”

“…Thank you, my lord.” Pinching up the hems of her skirt, Shary bowed her head and gave another curtsy. “Now, if you don’t mind, my lord, I must be off, or I’ll be late for my part-time job.”

Shary then sank silently into Leonis’s shadow.

Leonis descended the dorm’s stairwell, making his way to the first floor. A large table was set in the common meeting room, where preparations for breakfast were underway. The tantalizing smell of consommé hung in the air.

Usually, his platoon had breakfast in their individual rooms, but today they had a meeting, so they’d decided to gather and have the meal together.

“Excuse me if I’m late.”

“Ah, Leo,” Riselia greeted him. “Oh, you have a bit of bedhead.”

The girl had spotted a clump of hair standing on end, but Leonis ducked to evade her.

“I—I can fix it myself, thank you,” he said awkwardly.

“And your necktie’s off,” Riselia appended, leaning forward to adjust it. Her argent locks shone beautifully, reflecting the sunlight streaming in through the window. Most vampires were nocturnal, but Riselia maintained a healthy, regulated lifestyle by waking up early every morning.

“There, all good,” she stated, patting down Leonis’s tie.

“…Thank you.”

Having passed his minion’s inspection, Leonis took a seat at the table. From the common area’s kitchen, he could hear the sound of a frying pan being vigorously stirred and the sizzling noises of something cooking.

Currently, the Hræsvelgr dorm’s only occupants were the members of the eighteenth platoon. Girls from other platoons lived here previously, but the building was a ways off from Excalibur Academy’s premises. Its outward facade was quite old and worn, making it unpopular among the student body.

No sooner had Leonis arrived than a door to one of the adjoining rooms opened, and a beautiful black-haired young woman entered: Elfiné Phillet, a girl two years older than Riselia and the platoon’s honorary elder sister.

“Good morning, Leo,” Elfiné greeted him a bit drowsily.

“Good morning, Miss Elfiné,” Leonis replied.

Although usually prim and proper, Elfiné always seemed tired in the morning. Perhaps she suffered from low blood pressure. Her dark eyes were half closed. Even so, most male students would’ve still found her quite alluring.

With a gloomy expression, Elfiné took a seat opposite Leonis. She often made such faces when the first period that day was basic stamina training. Unlike the rest of the platoon, Elfiné’s Holy Sword was an information-analysis type. She wasn’t out on the field during combat training, so she was out of shape.

Truthfully, Leonis was just as poor an athlete as she was, so he greatly sympathized with her on this front.

“Are you tired, Miss Finé?” Riselia asked her anxiously.

“Yeah… Just a bit…,” Elfiné answered with a stiff smile. “My elder sister’s coming to visit from the Sixth Assault Garden.”

“Your sister? Oh, you mean the senior researcher from the Phillet Company?” questioned Riselia.

“…Yes. My very talented elder sibling.” Elfiné gave a heavy sigh. “She’s so capable it scares me sometimes…”

Evidently, Elfiné wasn’t anxious over stamina training this time.

“I spent all night trying to come up with ways to avoid her, so I hardly got any sleep.”

“Wow. Is she really that scary?” Riselia pondered.

“She’s a witch, that one. Or maybe a bloodsucking vampire.”

“Erm…” Riselia gave a halfhearted reply, unsure how to respond.

Leonis was no stranger to having his blood sucked. It seemed that despite most monsters having died out in this era, vampires were still seen as creatures of legend.

“Miss Selia, breakfast’s ready,” a voice called out from the kitchen. Regina then walked into the room, clad in a maid uniform and carrying a silvery tray. “Oh, hey, kid. Good morning.” Spotting Leonis, the pigtailed girl greeted him with a smile.

“Good morning, Miss Regina,” Leonis replied. “Breakfast looks good.”

The Undead King couldn’t help but swallow expectantly. Placed on the table was a rather sumptuous breakfast. Consommé garnished with vegetables, an arugula salad—grown in Riselia’s vegetable garden—with ham, cheese toast with lots of honey, walnut bread, coffee, fresh milk and butter, and omelet rice made from eggs produced in the academy’s natural district.

Having spent his time sleeping after using the Demon Sword, Leonis hadn’t eaten anything in days, so breakfast looked all the more appetizing. Feeling his stomach churn in anticipation, Leonis cracked a smile.

My word. This body is so incorrigible.

When he was the Undead King, Leonis hadn’t required sustenance. As such, Leonis found this form’s susceptibility to hunger quite bothersome. Still, he’d learned to appreciate food.

“I’ll put a special little flag on your omelet rice, kid,” Regina teased.

“Don’t treat me like a child,” Leonis shot back, pulling out the flag she’d stabbed into his food.

“I guess Sakuya isn’t back from her morning training,” Riselia remarked, glancing at the door.

“Yes. I did tell her we have a meeting today, though…,” Elfiné replied, knitting her brows.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s put aside some food for Sakuya and dig in,” Riselia concluded.

“Right, we shouldn’t let it go cold…” Elfiné nodded.

“Hey, kid, want me to draw you a heart on it with ketchup?” Regina suggested impishly.

“…I—I can put on my own condiments, thank you very much!” Leonis snapped at her.

“…Mm. Fine.”

Regina dropped her shoulders, seemingly disappointed.

“The Holy Light Festival…?” Leonis asked, actively avoiding the extra parsley on his plate.

“Yes, it’s Excalibur Academy’s school fair,” Riselia explained. “It’ll take place in a few days.”

Next week, the Seventh Assault Garden was set to couple with the Sixth. The Assault Garden fleet was deployed around the world’s oceans, with the capital, Camelot, as its core. Each city had a different tactical role assigned to it.

For example, the Seventh and Fifth Assault Gardens were offensive bases meant to discover and purge Void nests. The Sixth, by contrast, was in charge of providing supplies to the others. It sailed in areas of the ocean rich in mana resources, mining the seabed for mana crystals. This maintained the magical energy supply for Assault Gardens on the front lines.

Of course, the Seventh Assault Garden was capable of prolonged battles without any support, but working in tandem with the other Assault Gardens allowed for more efficient operations.

“…I see. Each base operates to its most efficient capacity.” Leonis was impressed by this system. The Dark Lords’ Armies had lacked such thinking.

If anything, each of the Dark Lords had a burning rivalry with the rest…

Dizolf, the Lord of Rage, and Veira, the Dragon Lord, had always been at odds with Leonis. Even when the Dark Lords’ Armies were in an all-out war with the Six Heroes, they had kept engaging in skirmishes over possession of ruined territories and kingdoms.

That wasn’t so much my fault as it was theirs, though, Leonis rationalized, thinking about the past.

The mana refueling would take three days, during which the two Assault Gardens would remain coupled. Over that period, the citizens of both cities would hold festivities to celebrate this yearly mingling.

“And during the Holy Light Festival, Excalibur Academy will open its facilities to the general public,” stated Riselia.

“I see. As it happens, I enjoy festivals, too.”

This reminded Leonis of the Death Festa. It was a type of magic ritual where thousands of undead souls would dance across ruined battlefields. The revelry lasted for several days, and once it concluded, the mana in those lands would be sucked up, converting the area into cursed grounds capable of producing many undead.

“Excalibur Academy’s platoons are going to run all sorts of stalls and shops,” Riselia detailed, shoveling more vegetables onto Leonis’s plate. Leonis’s minion wasted no chance to make his blood smoother and easier to drink.

“That’s enough vegetables…,” Leonis grumbled.

“Nope. I saw you push away your parsley, Leo,” Riselia refused firmly.

“Ugh…”

“During the last Holy Light Festival, we turned this dorm into a café,” Elfiné added, watching over the two of them with a smile.

Nodding, Riselia said, “It was pretty well received.”

This is a fairly good location for a café, Leonis thought.

The forest growing in the back of the dorms offered a nice view, and since it was on the edge of Excalibur Academy’s premises, it was a quiet spot, ideal for enjoying tea and sweets.

“But I thought we might want to change our approach a little this year,” Elfiné continued.

“How come?” Riselia asked.

“Well, rumor has it that the Fafnir dorm’s eleventh platoon is going to have a café.”

The eleventh platoon. That was the one Fenris Edelritz, a member of the executive committee and a student who tended to butt heads with Riselia at every turn, was part of. The eleventh platoon’s dorm had a far more extravagant interior design than the Hræsvelgr one, and it was equipped with a jet bath, which Leonis could only assume was the name of some tactical weapon.

“They’re definitely doing it to spite us!” Riselia declared.

“No, it’s because Lady Fenris really loves you, Lady Selia,” Regina muttered as she took a sip of tea. “Still, our building’s pretty far from theirs, so having another café isn’t too bad of an idea.”

The Fafnir dorm was close to the center of the academy. As such, it was pretty far from where the eighteenth platoon lived, so there wasn’t much competition.

“No, last year they ran a dance hall.” Riselia shook her head. “They’d only choose to do a café to poach our business. They must still be angry about losing during the practice match.”

“…I can imagine Lady Fenris doing that, actually,” Regina admitted as she peeled the shell off a hard-boiled egg.

“Honestly, I can’t see us beating them if we just default to what we did last year…,” Riselia said.

“Yeah. Compared to the Fafnir dorm, ours looks pretty bad,” Regina agreed.

“And for some reason, there’s been a lot of creepy ravens roosting around here…,” Elfiné whispered with a frown.

“R-really?!” Riselia asked, her expression visibly panicked.

The crows flocking around their dorm had undoubtedly been drawn there by her Vampire Queen mana. It usually would attract bats or wolves, but the only minions of the night living in this city were ravens.

“B-but, erm, ravens can be pretty cute!” Riselia argued, trying to save her minions’ dignity.

Regina, however, wasn’t having it. “Their cawing is loud, and they keep fishing through our trash.”

“W-well…” Unable to think of a response, Riselia sank slightly.

“Speaking of, I’ve seen some strange grass growing in our backyard,” Elfiné recalled with a puzzled expression.

Now it was Leonis’s turn to look flustered. In an attempt to cheer Leonis up, Shary had decided to grow some underworld plants in the rear garden. The seeds she’d planted were budding and beginning to creep over the dorm’s outer wall. If allowed to grow to maturity, they would become a rather magnificent man-eating carnivorous plant.

“With the way this place looks, every customer will be too scared to come in…,” Regina remarked in a low voice.

That was when…

“Sorry for being late, everyone.”

The door opened, revealing a short blue-haired girl—Sakuya Sieglinde. An adept swordswoman and the eighteenth platoon’s ace attacker, despite her young age of fourteen.

“Where were you, Sakuya?” asked Riselia.

“Oh, I happened upon Fluffymaru the Black during my morning training,” the girl explained, spreading her traditional Sakura Orchid outfit on the chair.

“Oh, that ghost dog that pops up around the dorms?” Regina questioned.

“He’s not a ghost. Holy Swordsmen from the executive committee were chasing him, so I had him take cover in the woods.”

Upon closer inspection, Sakuya’s uniform had a lot of leaves sticking to it.

What in the world are you doing, Blackas? Leonis couldn’t help but fidget a little since he knew perfectly well who that dog truly was.

“If it’s a stray, shouldn’t you just let them get rid of it?” Regina suggested, gesturing as if she was cocking an imaginary hunting rifle. “Academy students can defend themselves, but civilians will be walking around here once the Holy Light Festival starts.”

“Fluffymaru the Black isn’t a stray!” Sakuya shook her head desperately. “He might be Maru the Black’s long-lost reincarnation!”

That’s unlikely, Leonis thought.

First of all, Blackas wasn’t a dog, but a wolf. He was also the prince of the Realm of Shadows.

“We probably could keep it here in the dorm if you promise to take care of it, Sakuya,” Riselia said, holding up her index finger.

“Much appreciated, Miss Selia,” Sakuya answered. “However, whenever I try to catch Fluffymaru the Black, he seems to vanish.”

“That’s why they call him a ghost dog,” Regina chimed in.

“Oh, speaking of, I saw a ghost girl the other day,” Riselia recalled, suddenly remembering.

Regina perked up a bit at that. “I saw her, too! She was really cute, right?”

“A ghost girl?” Elfiné questioned dubiously.

“Yeah, there’ve been rumors about her recently. People say you can see a mysterious girl in a maid’s uniform going around this dorm…”

What in the world are you doing, Shary?!

As he listened to the girls’ conversation, Leonis made a note to chide his minions as he tried to swallow a piece of bread.

“A creepy mansion… Ghosts… Oh, I’ve got it!” Riselia’s face lit up, as if she’d finally realized something.

“What’s wrong, Lady Selia?” Regina asked her.

“What about a haunted mansion theme? We can make it a spooky café!” Riselia stood as she made her declaration. Everyone else present regarded her with confused looks.

“Ugh… Nngh, aaah…”

A girl’s pained moans filled an empty back alley in the Seventh Assault Garden’s outer rim. In contrast to the Central Garden area, where Excalibur Academy was, this sector was home to many refugees rescued from outside the city.

Shambling along, the girl crouched down, having exhausted her strength completely. Her verdant hair was tied in a ponytail. The white thighs peeking from under her shorts were now covered in soot. As she leaned against the wall, the hood of her modest robe flipped up, revealing a beautiful girl with fae-like features and blue eyes. The ears peeking out were elongated and came to sharp points. These were the characteristics of an elf.

How…did it come to this…?

This was Arle Kirlesio, an elven hero who had been tasked with destroying the Goddess of Rebellion’s vessel by the Sanctuary’s Elder Tree.

I was prepared for this, of course. But…

She’d never imagined the world could change so much after a thousand years. Humankind had created mobile fortress cities, and the monsters menacing this world were not goblins or orcs, but unknown life-forms called Voids.

Following the battle on the Third Assault Garden, Riselia’s group had taken custody of Arle and brought her to the city as a refugee. As soon as she’d spotted an opening, however, she’d taken it and escaped. Although Arle felt guilty about it, she couldn’t let those girls discover who she was.

While she’d destroyed one of the Goddess of Rebellion’s incarnations, there were others.

I have to complete my mission as a hero.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t even manage to stand anymore due to hunger. One couldn’t so much as buy a piece of bread in this city if they weren’t registered as a citizen. And a hero of her caliber couldn’t lower herself to petty thievery.

Nng, I have to do something…

She couldn’t afford to collapse here.

“Hmm, excuse me… Are you all right?” A frightened voice reached Arle’s ears.

Still squatting down, Arle looked up to see a seven- or eight-year-old girl peering down at her.

“Are you hungry?” the child asked.

“…Mm.” Arle nodded after a moment’s hesitation.

The girl fearfully approached and handed her a piece of bread.

“…” Arle eyed her carefully.

“Go ahead. Eat it,” urged the girl.

“…Are you sure?” Arle asked. She examined the girl’s attire. Her clothes didn’t suggest that she came from a wealthy home.

“Director Phrenia says we should help when we see someone in need,” the child said with a smile.

“…Thank you.” Arle accepted the offering, tearing a piece off and putting it into her mouth.

“Ah, do you need some water…?” the girl inquired.

“No, I have my own.” Arle took out a flask and washed down the bread. She could feel her stomach churn in appreciation. “Thank you. You saved me.”

“Um, would you like to come with me to the orphanage?”

The elf shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly impose on you that much.”

Inconveniencing a stranger like that simply wouldn’t do. Arle slowly rose to her feet, but then…

“What are you doing here?!” With that loud shout, several figures appeared in the alley.

“…?!”

These weren’t thieves, but Holy Swordsmen, dressed in blue uniforms. Arle assumed they were part of a militia of sorts, the city’s peacekeepers.

“Hmm, you’re an elf,” a young man who looked like the group’s leader commented, glaring at Arle.

“…”

“Show me your citizen’s certificate,” he demanded, rudely looking the elf up and down.

“N-no, this lady, she’s just hungry…,” the girl protested.

“Think you can boss me around, little refugee?” The young man regarded the girl with a glance before approaching her menacingly.

Arle pulled off her robe, discarding it to the winds. Manifesting the Dark Lord–slaying blade, Crozax, in her hands, she glared at him. “You should step back…,” she told the child who had helped her.

There are three of them, and they seem fairly organized.

Based on how they carried themselves, Arle could roughly gauge their strength. Normally, they’d be no match for her. In fact, they likely couldn’t even defeat the blue-haired girl she exchanged blows with in the ruined city, either.

But right now, Arle could barely stand, and a hero couldn’t go around killing people.

“You’re resisting, I see. Activate!” The young leader manifested a bulky great sword–type Holy Sword. His lips curled up into a smirk. “This might get rough, girl…”

As the weapon bore down on her, Arle deflected it with Crozax.

“…Tch, get back!” she snapped at the girl behind her again.

“M-Miss…,” the child stuttered.

“You’re in the way. Hurry!”

Arle heard the sound of retreating footsteps behind her.

Good. Arle gripped her sword tighter and hopped back. Suddenly, something was tossed into the alley, rolling up to Arle’s feet with a clattering sound.

Is this some kind of bomb…? No, this is—

Pssssssssssssssssssst!

The canister between Arle and the Holy Swordsmen began to produce heavy white smoke.

“Wh-what?! Is this a…smoke grenade?!”

A curtain of vapor quickly filled the narrow street, leaving the brutish Holy Swordsmen confused.

Wh-what…?!

Arle began to cough. Just then, a maintenance hole cover next to her feet rose slightly.

“…?!”

“Over here. Come with me if you want to escape!”

A girl with her face concealed behind a cowl peeked out from under the metal lid and gestured for Arle to approach.

“You’re—”

“Hurry up,” the hooded figure urged.

The city’s alarm blared, and Arle caught the sound of multiple sets of feet marching toward the alley. Steeling her resolve, the elf slipped into the shaft.