Nanatsu no Maken ga Shihai suru - Volume 9 - Chapter Pr

Prologue

“Mm-hmm!   Hmm-hmm-hmm!   Mm-hmm-mm-hmm-hmm!  ”

Behind closed doors, the medical ward echoed with the sounds of humming—and even the most generous listener would not call it in tune.

“…Ngh…”

Godfrey lay on the operating table, a cold sweat drenching his brow. The school physician, Gisela Zonneveld, had been in an exceptionally good mood all day. It was rare to spot her outside her office, but multiple students had seen her advancing down the corridors grinning ear to ear, and they felt a chill run down their spines. Those with any knack for divination swiftly consulted their auguries in the hopes of spotting the catastrophe to come. As a result, word went around that a hibernating behemoth was going to awaken and topple all of Yelgland. This would leave the campus in consternation for the better part of the week.

“You’ve certainly roasted your own goose here, lad. It will hurt a lot, but you did say ‘make it quick.’ I’m nowt about to refuse that. I’m a doctor!”

“…Appreciate…the consideration…,” Godfrey managed, voice shaking, suppressing the urge to bolt for the door. He’d gone up against the greatest threats Kimberly had to offer, and even he couldn’t think of anything that rivaled this for sheer terror.

“Afraid there is nae anesthetic for the etheric body. Best we can do to ease the pain is take yer consciousness down a notch, leave you half asleep, but that borks your self-control. And the moment you most need that? Right after the operation ends. Biggest factor in etheric healing is how focused yer own mind is.”

“…I’m aware. Avoiding pain makes it slower to heal. Can’t argue that.”

Godfrey nodded, steeling his nerves. Dr. Zonneveld got her instruments aligned and turned to him, peering down at his face.

“Godfrey, I’ve a soft spot for ya. Not many berks come back here seven years running. They hit the upper forms, learn to heal their own scrapes and sicknesses, or find friends who can instead. And you know—my work all hurts.”

“……”

“But ye never learned yer lesson. You get it—my way is faster. You never cared nowt about anything but getting back to the fight soon as can be. Brilliant. With that kinda mettle, I can meddle to me heart’s content.”

Her lips curled diabolically.

“…Not like I enjoy the pain,” Godfrey murmured. “I wish there was another way. But if I know the purpose, I can endure.”

“Oh-ho?”

“I’m student body president. If I shun the pain and go for the lengthy recovery, that prolongs the suffering elsewhere on campus. The pain I go through here is shouldered for them. That’s what I tell myself.”

That wiped the smile clean from Dr. Zonneveld’s face. She turned her back on him, reaching for her medicines.

“Makes no sense to me,” she muttered. “Never could see muddling up your pain and that of others as anything but madness. Pain’s no more shared than their strength is mine. The fella next to me gets worked over, it’s nowt me business, and I laugh about my day. That’s how we mages ought to be.”

“Then I’ve found one more illness you can’t cure.”

He felt he was allowed that much spite. The doctor turned back with his bone in hand, her smile all the more sinister.

“Mouth off while you can, Godfrey. Nothin’ I love more than peeking a tough guy trying to stomach the agony. Rivermoore did his job well. These days, you’ve stopped batting an eye at mere loss of limb.”

The tip of her athame touched his bare chest. His teeth clenched, bracing for the suffering to come.

“Let’s make this an operation to remember,” she purred. “Let me hear you sing, big man.”

The muffled cries made it through the infirmary doors, echoing for an hour through the hall beyond. When classes ended and the Sword Roses gathered, they were nearing their end, but even those last few minutes left the group quaking in their boots.

Not long after the groaning ceased, the door opened, and a man emerged. Alvin Godfrey had clearly left half his energy behind on the operating table but was standing tall. Tim—in full drag—ran up, lending him a shoulder.

“You still got your wits, Prez? If you’re having a hard time, just cop a feel—I don’t mind!”

“…Appreciate the thought.”

Godfrey’s whisper sounded drained. Without a word, Lesedi slipped under his other arm.

The Sword Roses approached. Not wanting to bombard him from all sides, Chela spoke for the six of them.

“I feared merely returning the bone wouldn’t be enough to heal the etheric scar. We’ll have to celebrate your recovery some other time. For now, we’re glad you made it through, President.”

“Thank you, Ms. McFarlane. I hear you all came through big-time.”

“And we were rewarded for it. You needn’t feel indebted.”

“From what I’ve been told, you went above and beyond. Especially those of you on the final incursion team.”

Godfrey’s eyes turned to Oliver and Nanao. At this point, he realized the third member of their team was not present.

“…Mr. Leik’s not here? I’ve heard he really made a name for himself.”

“Sorry. I suggested he put in an appearance…” Oliver sighed.

Yuri might have solved the Case of the Stolen Bones, but that didn’t mean he’d slowed down. He already had his eyes on some other mystery. He was consistent if nothing else—the only real change was that when he was on campus, he came to see his teammates more often. Which at least made it easier to track how reckless he was being.

“No need. I’ll pay him a visit soon enough. Not just to thank him—he sounds worth getting to know. I’ve yet to really speak to him.”

“Good to hear. But if I’m not there to stop him, he may be a bit…uh, abrasive.”

“As long as he doesn’t draw his blade, I’ll roll with it. Right, Tim?”

“Ha! I’m not saying any of them are worse than me, but all these kids are regular terrors. Especially you, Horn. The way you act all prim and proper makes you extra nasty. I oughtta pin a note to your back saying, I will lose my shit at the worst possible second.”

His words cut deep, and Oliver bowed his head. He had no leg to stand on here. Just—infinite gratitude. Tim Linton had stuck by his side through it all, even though he was the one person there who’d barely known Oliver going in.

“…Well, my own flaws aside, let me say this—you’re a wonderful person, Mr. Linton.”

“Buh?”

Oliver’s eyes bored into his, wiping the spite right off the Toxic Gasser’s lips. Once he realized the third-year meant every word, Tim got very shifty.

“Uh, w-well, we all know that! You’re, uh, a fine judge of character. Ha. Ha-ha-ha! Compliments won’t get you anywhere! These tits are for the president alone.”

His voice broke and his eyes were darting around wildly. Lesedi and Godfrey both gaped at him. Oliver was still giving him a look of open adoration, and Tim broke away from that, turning tail.

“So, uh, bygones are gone by and all that, so come over for a lesson or two when we’re both free. Uh…a-anyway, Prez! I’ll run on back to HQ!”

With that, he was off down the hall like an errant gale. The third-years watched him go, stunned—and Lesedi put a hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh.

“Aha. He’s had so little experience with blatant adoration that a sudden burst of it made his head spin.”

“…Seems like it. A spectacle for the history books.”

Godfrey sounded bemused. Here, Lesedi slipped up behind Oliver without a sound and ground her knuckles into the sides of his head. The sudden pain made him stifle a yelp.

“ ?!”

“Tim had a point, though. You are bad news. You’re a heedless heartbreaker!”

“Now, now, let him be, Lesedi. There are kids who look up to him. Finding that out is a vital discovery Tim needs.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. Horn, that boy was born trouble, but his future path could change a lot depending on how the folks around him act. Don’t be quick to cut him loose now that you’ve taken a shine to him.”

“ ! P-point taken!”

Having extracted an oath, Lesedi finally let Oliver go. He reeled back, clutching his temples, and his friends swooped in, concerned. Godfrey looked them over.

“Tim’s got a whole year here after Lesedi and I graduate. It’ll be up to active students like you to keep him going. Don’t mean to ask too much of you guys, just…I’ll appreciate it if you do what you can. He does get lonely.”

Godfrey mustered a half smile. This time, the others chimed in. Guy and Pete led the way.

“Natch!”

“Mr. Linton helped us during the search, too.”

“We have battled at death’s door together,” Nanao added. “How could I discard that now?”

“Though we need to work on his poisonous impulse control,” Katie concluded.

Godfrey nodded his thanks, looking at each face in turn. Once he’d met every eye there, he looked at Oliver, Nanao, and Chela again.

“Don’t worry about the election,” he said. “But I am looking forward to some fierce battles in the league. I won’t ask you to win—but I will ask you to have fun.”

“Okay!”

“Verily!”

“That much I can promise!”

All responded with enthusiasm, certain their battles would live up to that expectation.

Meanwhile, without him ever realizing it—Yuri was reporting to his master.

“………Hmm.”

Demitrio let out a low growl. He released his grip on the unconscious boy’s head, letting the body slump to the floor.

“Well?” Theodore asked, watching from the ceiling. “How goes your adorable splinter’s investigation?”

“…Rivermoore’s research results and the contents thereof match his advance reports,” Demitrio said. “Good news, but it doesn’t further our ends.”

Theodore narrowed his eyes. “Then he brought back the astral life? That is good news. I had high hopes but more than a few concerns. Deep down, that boy’s heart is far too kind.”

“He had some close calls. His conflict with the Watch may well have given his research the shot in the arm it needed. What an odd twist of fate…”

Demitrio paused, hand on his temple. Theodore crooked an eyebrow.

“Mm? Something on your mind, there? I highly doubt even Rivermoore would be reckless enough to pick a fight with Kimberly while busying himself researching the astral life.”

“…Shortly after the resurrection, a reaper made it into the Aria. I assumed the ritual itself had failed, but the Watch’s search team bought enough time for them to birth the astral life.”

“Uh…you mean they fought a reaper? Ha-ha, that’s madness. Like something Chloe would do.”

Theodore clapped his hands appreciatively. Demitrio shot him a glare at the mention of her name.

“Your favorite was there. Nanao Hibiya. Had she been the first into the fray, I would not have considered it at all odd. I know full well the people you bring here have that character.”

“Yes, Nanao is totally the type to pick a fight with death itself. But you make it sound like someone else made the first move. Who, exactly? Our resident hothead, Tim?”

“The last person you’d ever expect. That third-year boy, Oliver Horn.”

The smirk vanished from Theodore’s lips.

“That…honestly is a shock. Oh…I mean, I was aware he was accomplished for his age, of course. He and Nanao are blade bound for a reason. But he has a follower’s mentality and spends much of his time reeling Nanao in.”

“Like Edgar used to do?”

That silenced Theodore completely. A stir in his chest like he had not felt in some time. A name that provoked a whole storm of emotions within—no more or less than Chloe Halford herself.

“I need to defeat you, Theo. So I can stand by her side with pride.”

Words that man had said on a stormy night, echoing again in his ear. An awkward sort of friend. And she’d loved that awkward side, too. Loved how he’d failed to rid himself of so many things a mage should do without.

Thus—he often thought—his love was doomed before it even began.

“The headmistress questioned Oliver Horn regarding Enrico’s disappearance.”

A flat voice interrupted his reverie, pulling him back to the matter at hand.

“…That she did,” Theodore said. “But that was part of a performance Emmy was putting on for the benefit of the entire school. Demonstrating that even the lower forms could be viable suspects. He was never considered a serious candidate. Even if he’d been capable of gleaning some data on the Deus Ex Machina, Enrico invited far more older students to his workshop, and our suspicions were focused on them.”

“I concur. But I also think you and the headmistress tend to put too much stock in Nanao Hibiya. As if the rest of her class are also-rans. That perception can blind you—and not just where Oliver Horn is concerned.”

An edged barb that made Theodore wince. Mages were only human, and it was difficult to avoid biases and blind spots. That was precisely why Demitrio placed an ignorant familiar in charge of the investigation. Free of any and all perception filters, his splinter saw Kimberly with an unvarnished eye.

“Either way, that boy has this splinter’s attention. Until something else catches its interest, it will likely continue pursuing that angle. Fortunately, they seem to trust each other.”

Theodore nodded. He found it hard to believe a mere third-year was at the crux of this matter, but that could also just be his assumptions talking. Still—he hoped it was merely a red herring. Oliver Horn had become a critical piece tying the Azian girl to Kimberly.

Demitrio knelt down, placing his hand on Yuri’s head. This familiar was a piece of him, and this was how he made adjustments.

“It’s been in use a while and has gathered too much cruft. Let’s reduce that clutter. Exsugere.”

“—Ah—”

Yuri’s body quivered from the shock of having his memories meddled with. A few minutes later, the task was done, and Demitrio rose to his feet. He and Theodore moved aside, leaving Yuri lying on the ground. But a few minutes later, the boy blinked, and he woke up. Like he had always been, oblivious to what had happened.

“The junior league finals are today,” Demitrio muttered. “Perhaps I should observe them firsthand.”

Theodore mustered a smile. Two eyes up close, two eyes in the stands—four eyes monitoring Oliver’s every move.