Nanatsu no Maken ga Shihai suru - Volume SS01 - Chapter 2

Case 2

The Lady

Kimberly largely let most student issues pass without comment, but there were limits. Tim’s actions very much crossed that line.

Thus, Godfrey took him to the headmistress’s office, prepared for the worst. He began with his version of what went down in the Fellowship.

“And there you have it. Mr. Linton’s actions were certainly grave, but fortunately there were no fatalities, and he’s made it clear he’s turned a new leaf. Additionally, given the circumstances of his upbringing, I feel there’s more we could have done as his elders. I believe it would be a mistake to process this incident solely as a failure on his part.”

As Godfrey made his case, Tim sat bolt upright next to him. He’d avoided drag today, demonstrating his sincerity with the regulation uniform, worn to spec.

Across an imposing work desk, the high witch of Kimberly—Esmeralda—rose to her feet.

“…Hmm.”

She approached the students, showing no signs of violence, yet this proximity alone was enough to leave both boys sweating profusely. They knew perfectly well that if she was so inclined, their lives would be but candles in the wind.

“Let me first dismiss one concern,” the headmistress began. “Linton tossing poison around is itself a trifle. No different from the scraps that happen in the labyrinth on a daily basis. The lack of deaths is because the older students have learned from those same incidents and acted quickly. One of those lives is to your credit, Godfrey.”

A mix of praise and cynicism. Esmeralda stopped right next to Tim.

“What I cannot overlook is the sole fact that this incident took place in the Fellowship. However minor or trivial an incident there, it counts as an attack on Kimberly itself. We are generous with our students, but I have no generosity for my enemies. Is that clear, Linton?”

“…!”

This was tantamount to a death sentence, and Tim could no longer breathe. Unable to watch, Godfrey rose to argue.

“He is not your enemy. He joined me here today to demonstrate that fact. This was a mistake, not a mutiny.”

“It is not you who will decide that. Nor, may I add, is it me. We must consider the opinions of all students aware of the incident and how it will be viewed by those outside the campus walls. My duties here are not so light I can keep a dog that has already bitten my hand.”

With that, she turned, moving back to her desk. The pressure lessened slightly, and Godfrey tried to put his next argument together.

“Gladio.”

A spell—and Tim’s body dropped. Both he and Godfrey jumped and looked down. The legs of Tim’s chair had been cut nigh horizontally, making them shorter. Tim’s legs were still in front of the chair even though the slice had come from behind him.

“…!”

Shuddering, Godfrey snapped his gaze back to her. The headmistress stood before the desk, athame in hand. When had she drawn that? Neither boy had seen it happen.

“Give me your opinion, Godfrey. I am considering the penalty. My first thought is to reduce him to ashes and scatter them on the Flower Road, but like you say, that might just be a tad harsh for a first-year student. If you have an appropriate alternative, offer it now.”

She kept her back to them as she offered this ultimatum. Godfrey swallowed hard. And then he voiced the proposition he’d come in with.

“Even if this incident had led to fatalities, reverse engineering the spread of the poison suggests it would have been a maximum of thirty victims, give or take. That’s assuming not a single person in a set vicinity around him managed to flee.”

“An appropriate calculation. What of it?”

“Let’s double that number. Starting today, he will save sixty students. Tim Linton will shoulder that responsibility as a Kimberly student. A boy who once bit your hand will now act to protect your resources. Is there any better way of demonstrating the dignity of your office?”

A bold proposal, and it got her to turn around and glare at him. An icy stare that had broken many a will before. Yet, this second-year boy met it head-on, not even flinching. Esmeralda’s eyes narrowed.

“You hold my gaze while spouting nonsense. I would not call that promising, Godfrey.”

“I spoke no nonsense. This is what we will do.”

“…Specifically?”

“We intend to reduce the deaths on campus and in the labyrinth. Whatever the actual figures are, we have an official average from the annual estimate, which should make increases or decreases trackable. Over the next three years, I promise a thirty percent reduction.”

The headmistress’s silence urged him to continue, so he did.

“The advantage is clear. Kimberly may be all about freedom and success, but the current state of affairs lacks order. Students who are still growing perish all too easily in accidents, or they injure themselves in ways that delay the progress of their research. Neither situation is desirable from your perspective. Naturally, we will endeavor to carry this out in a way that does not interfere with the students’ self-governance or creativity. We have no intention of turning mages into puppets.”

“Can you do this? You, a boy with no backing?”

Before querying the worth of the idea, she questioned its practicality. Godfrey had expected just that and did not hesitate.

“I’ll run for student body president in my fourth year. And by that time, I’ll have the support to win.”

Tim looked at him, eyes wide.

The headmistress gave this some thought.

“…Very well. I’ll accept your terms for Tim Linton’s penalty. Have him gather manascript testimonies from sixty mages he’s saved. Reward for success will be granted when Linton advances to his fourth year. No allowances made if the number falls short.”

“Thank you!” Godfrey’s voice leaped, and he grabbed Tim’s hand, pulling him out of the headmistress’s office.

In the silence after they left, a voice echoed from above.

“You’ve let them write a blank check. Are you that fond of him, Emmy?”

A dapper man in a dark-brown suit stood on the ceiling—the adjunct instructor, Theodore McFarlane. Not even glancing at him, the headmistress sat down at her desk, waving her wand so that several documents floated in the air before her.

“Letting them go will serve to cleanse this place. Like he implied, as powerful cliques form among the students, the campus does tend to stagnate. I was just considering giving the pot a good stir, though I hadn’t expected a second-year to propose it.”

“Aha. Dismantling the cliques and balancing the powers seems like a job the faculty could easily handle, though.”

“That robs it of all meaning. Student problems solved by student hands. No matter the age, Kimberly students require that foundational strength. That is the way of things.”

As she spoke, she used manascript to sign the documents around her.

“You certainly place great expectations on his shoulders,” Theodore said, arching a brow. “Your gamble may not pay off, but I’ll keep an eye on things myself. Mettle like his is rare; a shame to see it nipped in the bud.”

“Suit yourself. He made his pitch here in the hopes of gaining that support. I would not place my hopes on any old fool. He is, at least, a resolute one.”

The interview had been enough to convince her of that. And Theodore entirely agreed.

“…Hahhh, hahhh…!”

“…Whew…”

Escaping the interview, Godfrey and Tim fled for the nearest lounge. There, the stress caught up with them, and they tumbled into the nearest chairs. Carlos came over with tea.

“You’re safe now, boys. What a relief to see you both alive and well. I was about to go kick the door down!”

Their relief was palpable; Carlos had spent the entire meeting hovering right outside the office. Pouring each a cup, they inquired as to the outcome.

“I assume this means you earned a respite. She accepted your terms?”

“…Yeah. Sixty students saved in three years. That is Tim’s official penalty. I also pitched her on my plans. I won’t count on her backing my play, but at the very least, she’s unlikely to interfere.”

“Still can’t believe you dared to go for two birds with one stone right under her nose. That aside, getting tacit approval of our actions is key. No matter what the other students say, we can argue with aplomb.”

Godfrey nodded. Wetting his whistle with the tea, Tim let out a long breath, then managed to speak at last.

“So who do we kill—? I mean, where do we start? I ain’t never tried to help anyone before, so…I’m drawing a blank here.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve got plans. But first, we need comrades. Tim puts us at three, but I’d like at least two more…”

“You’ve gone and stuck your hands in the shit again, huh?”

A new voice cut in. All three jumped and turned—to find a dark-skinned girl standing there. Lesedi Ingwe, the girl who’d taught Godfrey how to kick.

“See for yourself, Lesedi. We’ve just now gained ourselves a new member. Progress!”

Godfrey shot her a peerless grin, and she burst into laughter.

“…Heh-heh. You nearly got yourself killed, and you don’t regret a thing! You’re hard-core.”

“…Huh? Who does this bitch—?” Tim was gearing up for a fight, but Lesedi waved him down.

“The whole school’s talking about your stunt in the Fellowship. Do you know what they’re saying about you?”

“My mind was on other things. Care to fill me in?”

“The dumbest man alive risked his neck to save a mad dog. That’s the gist of it anyway. Some think it’s funny; others are openly contemptuous—but the one thing they all got in common? Their eyes are all on you. Even the upper forms are talking, people who throw down on a daily basis.”

This incident had made ripples far beyond Godfrey’s understanding. With her point made clear, Lesedi crossed her arms, looking grim.

“It got under my skin, too. I’d have preferred to put you outta sight, outta mind, but your dumb asses are making too much noise. If you’re gonna be a constant distraction anyway, I might as well pull up a chair in the box seats.”

She flashed a grin. Godfrey nodded, rose to his feet, and held out a hand.

“Welcome to the watch, Lesedi.”

“Huh? She’s joining? The hell?!”

“We actually asked her first, Tim,” said Carlos. “So glad you came around, Sedi. I cannot possibly keep these two in line on my own. I’m desperate for your help.”

Carlos was already pouring an extra cup for her. Lesedi accepted it, snorting.

“I ain’t here to act all chummy. But you can count on me in a scrap. I was looking for a good excuse to start kicking a few asses. If I tag along with you, I’ll get no shortage of that action, right?”

Godfrey winced but nodded. He glanced around at the group.

“That makes four of us. A good start, but a bit heavy on the front line. I’d like someone good at healing and support, if only to ease the burden on Carlos. Any ideas…?”

“On it already. Leave this to me,” Carlos declared. All eyes turned to them. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment, and I think this is it. It might take me a bit of time to persuade her, but I promise, she’s got a heart of gold. Once she joins, we’ll have five—and be ready to go.”

“I’m not about to doubt your recommendation. When can we meet her, Carlos?”

No hesitation on Godfrey’s part—their fifth member was locked in before anyone even said a word to her.

Recruitment took two months, but eventually Godfrey’s enthusiasm wore her down.

“…Um, so…I’m Ophelia Salvadori. I’ve spoken to you all in the Fellowship, but…it’s nice to be here.”

They’d gathered in an empty classroom, and Ophelia made an anxious introduction.

“About time,” Lesedi said, flashing a grin and crossing her arms. “The constant crotch pain finally bore fruit! How you feeling about that, Godfrey?”

“…Moved beyond words…!”

Godfrey wiped his tears with a sleeve. Ophelia was born generating Perfume that stimulated the opposite sex. Recruiting her had required he find a way to fight that—and he’d chosen to cast a pain spell on his crotch each time he found himself aroused. He’d earned those tears.

Ophelia was clearly pretty nervous, but Tim made a beeline for her.

“Don’t you stand next to him, greenhorn! That spot belongs to me.”

“…What’s your problem?”

“I’m Tim Linton. Don’t say you ain’t heard of me! Everyone knows I’m Godfrey’s right hand. Don’t go acting like healing magic makes you all that. Right now, you barely qualify as his little toe!”

Tim was making this a competition, and Ophelia didn’t know what to make of that—but Carlos just shrugged.

“I foresee issues with teamwork…but those’ll iron out as we spend time together. I know you’re all good children at heart.”

“That they are. Don’t let him get to you, Ophelia. Tim may have a foul mouth, but his heart’s as pure as the driven snow. If you’re in danger, he’ll be there to save you. And before that happens, I’m sure we’ll be in your debt more times than you can possibly imagine.”

Godfrey was more than sure of that. He drew his athame.

“We are the Kimberly neighborhood watch. As of this moment, we’re on duty. All members, blades forward!”

““““Acutus!””””

At their leader’s call, all drew their athames and cast a sharpening spell, giving their blades an edge. That done, Godfrey turned his eyes toward the giant painting on the wall.

“Wait for us, warlocks of the depths! We’ll be straightening you out soon!”

With that proclamation, he plunged into the painting. Into the hotbed of every problem in this hellscape—the massive labyrinth residing beneath the Kimberly campus.

Naturally, this was a trial by fire.

“Godfrey? Oh, I know you! The school’s dumbest man! You ran into a poison cloud to save some kid and nearly died for it. Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I nearly died laughing!”

The labyrinth’s first layer: the quiet, wandering path. A maze of shifting corridors and chambers large and small, it was packed with hidden rooms used as private workshops outside the school’s purview. Naturally, far more problems sprouted here than up above.

The watch’s first encounter: a pair of students, one male, one female. Informed of the watch’s purpose, the girl busted a gut laughing, slapping her knee, clearly aware of their reputation. The watch was unsure how to take this, and the girl stroked her chin, inspecting them.

“So you pack of clowns are tackling the labyrinth, hmm? Biff, wham, pow! I can dig it! Nothing like rushing in over your heads. Way better than cowering up on campus like the smart kids.”

She spoke enthusiastically but also drew her athame. This was such a natural gesture, they caught it a beat too late and hastily braced for combat. Clearly, in her mind, that was just an extension of their friendly chat.

“In which case, why don’t we throw down?!” she said, delighted. “You got a healer? You do? Cool, cool. Then I can fuck your faces up! But do make sure the hits don’t land on point, or the impact’ll make your brains pop.”

A few minutes of combat made it clear victory was not possible—and they ran for it, carrying the wounded. This alone had nearly ended Godfrey’s party.

“…Who the hell is that freak?!” Lesedi rasped, nursing a broken left arm.

“…Bloody Karlie. Fisticuffs champion of the third-years. We certainly landed a doozy our first time out…,” Carlos said. They’d heard enough stories to identify the girl.

Godfrey had a black eye and was carrying Tim on his shoulders.

“Tim’s not waking up. Didn’t even get a chance to use his poisons…”

“Godfrey and I hit her from both sides, and she batted us off, laughing the whole time! Sure as hell proved I ain’t ready.”

Lesedi kicked the wall. Only she and Godfrey had directly engaged Karlie—and were even more acutely aware of how futile that effort had been. Proof of just how horrific their seniors were and how powerless they’d be against them.

Conscious of how rattled they were, Ophelia finished healing the scrape on her side.

“Her companion was a curse wrangler,” she said, her voice calm. “We’re lucky he didn’t join the fray. My healing won’t help with a curse.”

“…True. And that suggests she was just toying with us,” Lesedi spat.

Godfrey straightened up, putting his head back in the game. “Exactly what we expected, then. If we don’t get folks like that in line, there’ll never be order in the labyrinth. We may not be strong enough yet, but as we improve—!”

“You again?” a low voice growled.

They were all instantly in combat mode, glaring toward the speaker.

A male student emerged from the darkness of the corridor, dressed like a heretical priest. Godfrey and Carlos gulped. They’d crossed wands with this threat several times since their first year.

“…Rivermoore…”

“Looks like you’ve already suffered one defeat today. Hmm? Got some unusual meat with you, I see.”

His eyes turned to Ophelia, narrowing. His grin widening, Cyrus Rivermoore drew his athame.

“I’m curious—I’ll give her an appraisal. Congreganta.”

“ ! Everyone, on guard!”

At the warlock’s spell, countless bones swirled through the air, swiftly constructing a bony beast. Godfrey handed Tim over to Carlos and drew his own athame.

“Flamma!”

Flames filled the corridor. Rivermoore shielded himself with his bones and snorted at his foe’s smoking arm.

“Still lighting up your own arm? You never learn.”

“Can’t burn bones without the flesh. It’s perfect for you.”

Ignoring the pain, Godfrey went for a second spell. Lesedi matched him, sliding under the beast to kick the warlock himself. Rivermoore bent backward to dodge it, chuckling.

“The teamwork’s starting to come together. Ingwe, you’re joining this pack of fools?”

“Don’t speak. I’m in a bad mood—I might just kick too hard!”

She spun into a heel kick that connected. He’d put his arm up to block it, and there was an audible snap as the bone gave way.

“Down an arm? Hmph.”

The moment his arm stopped moving, Rivermoore cut it off at the elbow. Lesedi maintained her combo, but her foe grabbed her by the nape of her neck and squeezed.

“Kah…!”

“That was careless. I’m a necromancer. Easier to control a dead arm.”

Lesedi was forced to back off, and Godfrey took her place. As he closed in before a spell could be cast, their cross guards locked.

“You oughtta value life more! Yours and others!” he spat at Rivermoore.

“Is that anything to say to a mage? And by engaging me at all, those words come right back at you.”

The bone beast came at Godfrey from the side, but a wind-borne mist melted the lifeless bones away. Sensing mortal peril, Godfrey leaped back, eyes focusing on the boy on Carlos’s back.

“…Watch your mouth, chucklehead…”

Tim was awake and grabbing another vial. Rivermoore snorted.

“The Toxic Gasser awakens? A little risky for my tastes—time I left.”

His next spell made a smoke cloud, covering his retreat. As the sound of his footsteps died away, Godfrey looked relieved.

“…He’s gone. Guh…!”

“Godfrey!”

The pain of his burned arm kicked in, and Ophelia looked horrified, moving in to heal him. But he only allowed her the minimum pain reduction before turning to face his comrades.

“Hard to fight again after Bloody Karlie. We just got started, but it’s time we left. For today, we’ll have to call this frustration our sole gain.”

The others were forced to agree. They were in no shape to handle anyone else. All moved to get out of dodge.

“Oh, found ’em! I thought someone was down here.”

“ ?!”

Yet another voice. They spun around, fearing the worst—but the short guy behind them had his hands up, not looking for a fight.

“At ease. I come in peace. You’re hurt? I’ll escort you to a safe place. Can’t really heal up properly here.”

“…And who might you be?” Godfrey asked, not ready to trust him.

The man flashed a smile, his oversized backpack rocking.

“Kevin Walker. Just your run-of-the-mill labyrinth enthusiast! But I will say this—I’m on your side.”

Kevin Walker, a fourth-year. Leader of the Labyrinth Gourmet Club. The watch certainly knew of his reputation and that he was always ready to look after his juniors.

Godfrey considered the offer and chose to accept it. Whatever his true intentions, right now they knew far too few upperclassmen. He believed making this man’s acquaintance would benefit them in the future.

“…Ha-ha, a neighborhood watch? That’s a tough cookie to crumble! Especially with only first- and second-years.”

He led them to a little room on the first layer. There, he set up a basic barrier and made a campfire. While Godfrey’s companions tended to their wounds, Godfrey filled the older man in on their purpose and earned himself a thoughtful scowl.

“If I’m being honest, you’re better off not trying. At your level, you’re not even ready to tackle the average scrap on this layer. That last guy was probably a second-year. You’re struggling with your own here. Anyone older will mop the floor with you.”

“…We’re painfully aware. But we can’t afford to stop. Our deal with the headmistress requires this penitence—and it’s a goal I’m not willing to back away from.”

Godfrey heeded the warning and made his position clear. Walker considered this.

“I figured as much the moment I laid eyes on you. In which case, I’ll have to do something… But what? If I’m gonna get you to the level you need quick…”

Walker looked at each face in turn, thinking.

“You mean you’ll train us?” Godfrey asked, eyes widening. “Hands-on?”

“? Well, yeah. Can’t exactly let you get yourselves killed. And I love the labyrinth! Much better if no one winds up dying down here. I want everyone to enjoy their explorations! So if you can help cut down on the fighting, I’m all for that.”

Simple, off-the-cuff goodwill. Godfrey had to fight off the emotions swelling up. He rubbed his eyes.

“Uh—why are we crying? I touch a nerve?”

“…No… Just… It’s so unlike this place. The first trace of any warmth I’ve felt from any older student.”

“…You’ve had it rough, huh? I ain’t seen it, but I can imagine. You’ve also busted your butts—and that effort’s gonna seem like nothing compared to what you’re gonna do.”

With that, Walker faced the whole group.

“In my mind, older students oughtta have their juniors’ backs. I’ve got my own club to run, and it ain’t in my character to do what you do, so I can’t join the watch itself. But I can help. At least until you can survive this place yourselves.”

He grabbed the skewers from the fire and passed them around—charred flesh of some unidentified creature. Godfrey grimaced.

“With that settled,” Walker added, “you can’t do squat on an empty stomach! You into camp food? These are army hoppers from the second layer. Not too gamy, relatively noob-friendly. They’re fully cooked, so chow down!”

“…Th-thanks…”

“Yeah…”

Unable to refuse, they all accepted. His friends’ eyes on him, Godfrey took the first bite. Bitter, pungent, but also quite rich—very fitting for the labyrinth.

Once they’d eaten, they moved to an open area, where Walker began taking stock of their fighting skills. At his request, they showed off how they moved and cast. Once he had a grasp of it, he offered his evaluation.

“Mm-hmm. I see. Words didn’t tell me much, but you folks aren’t weak! You can move, you have the nerves, and most of you have a good gimmick going on. Use that last card right, and it can really hurt a stronger foe.”

They were relieved he saw some promise—except his next words hit right at their failings.

“But you’ve got lots to work on. Godfrey, your mana output is bonkers, but you can’t control it for shit. Never seen someone burn their own arm off. Have you always been like that?”

“No…I only learned to cast at all last year. Before that, chanting just made me sick.”

“Good lord. But it sounds like you’re on your way to fixing things, so fine. Just—if you’re operating on the assumption that each blast hurts you, you’re not geared for any lengthy spell exchanges. I’m guessing you can go maaaybe three shots.”

“…Yes,” Godfrey admitted. “If we don’t stop to heal. After that, I can’t even hold a wand.”

Walker thought for a second, then pulled a bottle from his backpack.

“What’s this?” Godfrey asked.

“Volfrog mucus. Resists fire and heat. I always coat myself in it before tackling hot environments. Try casting with it on.”

At Walker’s urging, Godfrey lathered the creamy contents onto his arm and chanted a spell. He didn’t quite believe it—but indeed, fire leaped from his wand, and yet his arm did not burn.

“…!”

“Kept you from burning, but the mucus turned white and cloudy. At the rate it’s degrading, it only buys you two more shots.”

“That’s a lot. Turning three shots into five can make a huge difference.”

“Yeah. But be warned—it’s useless for other elements. I take it all your spells are coming out the same way? This might help in the immediate, but you still gotta work on your control, and fast. I’m not the one to help you there, so I’ll find someone who is.”

He was even finding other mentors. Godfrey flashed an appreciative grin. Walker turned from him to Lesedi.

“Lesedi, you’re a rock-solid fighter they can rely on. I think you’re on the right track, but there’s one new thing I’d recommend.”

“Sir, yes, sir! What would that be?”

She’d snapped to attention, which made Walker laugh.

“Nothing that major. Just…whatever you do, bear in mind how that’ll get your team to victory. In other words, how you can help set things up so Godfrey’s spells hit home. I’m sure you’re aware his firepower is your clincher. If his aim is true, most upperclassmen can’t cancel that out easily. And you’ll wanna take advantage of that.”

“So don’t try to showboat. Just do what’s right for the team?”

“Not wrong, but a bit off the mark. Showboating is totally fine. I just want you to remember your teammates’ strengths and find paths that’ll lead you all to victory. Not figuring out how to kick a foe down yourself, but how to knock them off-balance so that Godfrey’s spells can finish them, for instance. That sort of thing will broaden your options.”

“…! Understood, sir!” She saluted.

“Linton,” Walker said, turning to Tim. “As far as clinchers go, you’re a strong match for Godfrey—but I think your main goal now is getting better at fighting without gassing your own side. Until you learn that, don’t worry much about hitting hard. Don’t even try to get lethal! That’s not a warning; that’s an order.”

“…Riiight…”

Tim pursed his lips, clearly disgruntled.

“I’m not saying spreading mist is all bad,” Walker added, wincing. “But there’s a time and place. First thing that comes to mind is buying time to cover a retreat. Alternatively—getting the drop on a foe and taking ’em out before the fight. In each case, there’s distance between your party and the enemy. Reduce the risk to your own side while taking advantage of the poisons’ strength. And one other suggestion—”

Walker raised his wand and chanted a spell. Several winged insects flew out of his backpack, circling him.

“—familiars like these may help. Inject fluid in their bellies, and they can carry that, letting you deploy your toxins from a distance. Bugs aren’t the most flexible familiars, but that means they’ve got simple thought processes and don’t make unexpected movements—good for newbies. Unlike animals, they’re unlikely to fear their targets. Bluntly speaking, they’re your own little attack squad.”

He took some familiar eggs from his backpack. Tim hesitated.

Remembering how he’d fed the pot weasel, Godfrey chimed in.

“…Tim, if it’s too soon, there’s other approaches.”

“Nah, I use bugs in my brews all the time. Ain’t good to be picky.”

With that, he took the eggs, staring down at them.

“When the time comes, I’ll give my life just like you do. Can we call that a deal?”

A low hiss—and it alarmed both Godfrey and Walker, but they chose not to poke it now. Leaving Tim be for a moment, Walker turned to Carlos.

“Carlos, I don’t have much advice for you. You know the strengths and characters of your frontline fighters, and you’re backing them up well. You’re great at arcing your shots and switching elements, which helps a lot. Like Lesedi, I want you to keep an eye out for how to control the flow of combat and get Godfrey a chance to end things. I bet you prove adept at creating those openings.”

“I’ll certainly try. Leave them to me, Walker.”

Carlos looked pleased to be on the right track. Walker nodded and turned to the last member of the party.

“And finally, Ophelia. I had you pegged as the healer, but you’re a solid fighter, too. Your output is second only to Godfrey’s. You seem a bit reluctant to engage, but I think you’re good to find more moments to attack yourself. Also…”

Walker broke off, giving her a piercing look.

“…I get the feeling you’re still hiding your true strength. Pure hunch on my part. Could be imagining it…”

“…!”

Ophelia looked tense, and Carlos stepped in front of her.

“Lia’s a gentle soul. We’ll work on her aggression, but let’s leave it at that.”

“Fair. All right, I’m done. Didn’t mean to make it weird. Sorry, Ophelia.”

“…Okay…”

She awkwardly shifted away, and Walker clapped his hands.

“Then let’s try a fight with that advice in mind. Make your goal to land a hit on me. If you manage that, you won’t lose to many in the lower forms, and upperclassmen’ll have to think twice. I’d call that the bare minimum you need to hit to operate down here. Ready?”

“““““Yes!”””””

The watch sprang into action. With all Walker had done for them, they had to make it count.

From that point on, they made frequent trips to the labyrinth, and Kevin Walker continued to oversee their training. His teachings focused more on survival than victory and extended beyond mere combat to understanding the terrain and how it changed, locating safe points to evacuate to, and learning how to hunt and cook edible creatures. His stated goal was “the confidence to get back alive if you were tossed in here without a wand.” None of them doubted he could pull that off.

“Now, now, don’t hold back, Godfrey. If you don’t beat them quick, they’ll eat you.”

That call made Godfrey refocus. They were on a branch of the irminsul, a towering tree in the second layer. Several magical beasts were closing in. Walker quickly raised his blade.

“Those are oilmunks. Dry ’em out, let ’em sit for three days, and they become…an acquired taste. The oil in their humps is top quality, so try to beat them without harming that.”

Godfrey’s spell scorched the incoming creatures. He’d rather have advice on fighting than cooking. But from his perch above, Walker was simply smiling away, offering nothing else. That left Godfrey to follow his own instincts as the number of foes only increased.

“Here come some jumping scorpions. They don’t require any tricks—best to just deep-fry them! I swear, the crunch of their exoskeletons is addictive.”

Manabugs swarmed up the underside of the branch, surrounding Godfrey. He wasn’t handling them fast enough—and bird wyverns were gathering overhead, leaving him cornered.

“Oh dear. Looks like you’re gonna be their dinner! That begs the question—what recipe would bring out the true flavor of a Godfrey?”

“Hah!”

Godfrey’s eyes opened, and he sat up in bed—in his dorm room. Carlos was already up, their nose in a book.

“Morning, Al,” they said, eyes wide. “Quite a rough awakening. Bad dreams?”

“…I was just on the irminsul. Astounding how Walker manages to train us even in our sleep.”

He wiped the sweat from his brow. Carlos put the book down and began boiling water.

“We still have time, so make yourself presentable. Five sugars?”

“Yeah, I need that extra sweet,” Godfrey said with a nod.

Something in the room caught his eye.

“Uh, Carlos…”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Not to be alarmist, but…is that painting getting upset?”

Both examined the magic art hung on the wall. Like Godfrey said, the girl depicted in it was moving frantically back and forth within the frame.

“Yes, I’ve certainly seen her move before, but never in such a tizzy,” Carlos observed. “Wonder what’s bothering her.”

“Hard to tell what would upset a painting. The way the light falls on her, maybe? Doesn’t like the frame? Or are there bugs nibbling on the canvas?”

Godfrey moved closer, cocking his head.

“Not worth considering,” Carlos said, shrugging. “You know magic paintings love to pull tricks, Al. She might just be trying to confuse you. You’ve seen kids on campus sobbing next to the painting that steals textbooks.”

“…I have. Point taken.”

Nodding, Godfrey turned away. He took a seat, sipping the tea Carlos handed him. The whole time the girl in the painting appeared to be pleading with him.

“Okay, this is bugging me. I know I should ignore her, but…it’s not just her body language. She’s looking right at me!”

“True.” Carlos frowned. “We could drape a cloth over it. I hate to, but it’s hard to relax when she’s like this.”

Godfrey looked back at the painting, considering that idea.

“Hanging a sheet over her sounds worse. Let’s just do this.”

He took the painting off the wall and dramatically slid it under his bed. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Sorry,” he said, sighing. “I’ll hang it up again once she’s calmed down.”

“You might just be pissing her off,” Carlos noted. “Oh, it’s that time. Let’s head out, Al.”

They left their room. Once they reached the school building, neither of them remembered the painting at all.

Their first period that day was sword arts. With Walker’s guidance, Godfrey’s performance here was changing rapidly.

“Huff! Huff! Huff! Hahhh!”

“Ah—whoa! Whoa! Augh!”

His opponent wasn’t up to the speed of his flurry and wound up bent over backward, a blade at his throat. The match settled, Godfrey stepped away.

“Thank you. Next!”

He was already moving on to his next partner. Garland was standing with Lesedi, watching, one hand on his hip.

“I can’t say he’s a skilled swordsman, but his physical strength makes up for his unrefined technique.”

“Yeah, he’s getting the hang of using his mana to supplement his motions. He’s still an overpowered oaf, but it’s not just spells now. Fun to watch, right?”

She implied Godfrey was starting to get a handle on his own strengths. Garland nodded, clearly of two minds about that.

“It’s my job to help refine his rougher moves…but from the looks of things, you’ve found a mentor elsewhere. I know why you need a quick path to strength, so I’ll hold my tongue for now.”

“Appreciated, Master. But…I could use your coaching, myself. I want a better handle on how Lanoff works.”

“So that you can fight Lanoff? How resolute!”

With the wind in their sails, Godfrey started making moves—and getting noticed.

At lunch that day, Ophelia was walking down the hall with a basket of food in her arms. As always, attracting looks from those around her.

“Uh-oh, clouds of it again.”

“Does she even try to contain it? How desperate can one girl be?”

“Distractingly sexy. Gotta chug a resistance potion…”

They made sure she could hear them. Made a show of drinking potions in front of her. She stifled her emotions, searching for a place less populated.

They’d found her old lunch spot, so these days she was using a terrace on the third floor. She settled down on a bench, relieved, and had just opened the basket when a cheery voice called her name.

“Hey, Ophelia! I’ve been looking for you. You eating here today?”

“Ah…G-Godfrey.”

Flustered, she slid to the side, making room for him. He sat down and took out his own lunch.

“Let me know when you find a new spot. Carlos not with you?”

“…They tried to follow, but I told them not to. They’re not my guardian, you know.”

“True, true. Independence is a fine thing. But don’t try to drive me off now—I went all out in sword arts class. If I don’t get something in my stomach here, I’ll never make it back to the Fellowship.”

A very Godfrey excuse. Ophelia giggled. Godfrey swallowed his first pie in nearly a single bite, glancing around.

“There are downsides to having our gathering spots always in flux. I’d like a base to operate from. That might not be an option up above, but we should figure something out in the labyrinth soonish. I’ve got no clue what makes a good location—do you?”

“Um…for a communal workshop? I think I can at least find a place that meets our minimum requirements. But the hard part of workshops comes once you secure a location. If we’re intent on making a new one, we first have to establish a zone exempt from the labyrinth’s terrain shifts.”

She’d stopped eating to think. Godfrey watched her for a moment, then took out his pocket watch and stood up.

“Whoops, look at the time. Wish I could chat longer, but I’ve gotta get to class. I’ll walk you to yours, Ophelia.”

“Oh, no…I’m fine on my own.”

“Please, we’re headed the same way. I insist you join me. It’s a great excuse to scope out how the winds are blowing for the first-years.”

Their meal done, they left the bench. In the halls, the pair drew many a look—but the vibe was noticeably different from when Ophelia was on her own.

“…Weird, an oaf and a succubus walking side by side.”

“From the Toxic Gasser to her? Dude loves the freaks.”

“…Does sound kinda fun, though.”

“Huh? What part of it?”

“Don’t tell me stupidity is contagious!”

There was a range of reactions. And Ophelia couldn’t quite suppress a smile.

“…Heh-heh…”

“? What’s up, Ophelia? Something scratching your funny bone?” Godfrey asked.

“…Yes, this whole time.”

They reached her classroom. Before Ophelia stepped in, Godfrey poked his head in the door.

“…Hmm, don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

With that, he turned to go. Despite herself, Ophelia reached out for him.

“…Ah—”

“Later, Ophelia. Keep up the good work.”

He tossed an odd parting phrase over his shoulder. Wondering what it meant, Ophelia entered the room, and all eyes instantly turned to her.

“Oh, the lady arrives.”

“Okay, okay, clear a seat for her. Give her space.”

They made a show of clearing out. She was used to that treatment and didn’t bat an eye—but today, things went differently. In her corner of the classroom, someone was lounging back in his seat, scowling at anyone who approached.

“Huh? What’re you staring at me for?”

Tim Linton, in drag. Baffled, Ophelia sat down a few seats away, but Tim quickly moved next to her.

“…Um?”

“Forgot my textbook. Lemme share yours,” he said, not even looking at her.

Perplexed, she looked at his bag. “You forgot…? Then what’s in that overstuffed bag?”

“Poison vials. Was trying a whole range of new concoctions. No room left for books!”

“If you intentionally don’t bring it, that doesn’t count as forgetting. Why are you even in class?”

“Don’t gimme that shit. I’m putting up with your whole fragrance thing, ain’t I?”

Tim pinched his nose, and Ophelia felt her brow twitch.

“…Fine, you can look at my book. If you join me outside after.”

“Oh? We throwing down? I’m in! You gunning to be his new right arm?”

“Nothing that uncouth. Just some simple training. Though I might be a bit harsh on you.”

Neither saw a reason not to. So after class, they did just that.

That evening, Godfrey, Carlos, and Lesedi had secured a table in the Fellowship. They were joined by Ophelia and Tim, each sporting identical bruises on their faces.

“Gosh, it’s so nice to see you two getting along.”

““How?!””

Ophelia’s and Tim’s objections overlapped. Godfrey nodded.

“You’re past the point of minding your manners. Tim, make sure you thank Ophelia. She loaned you her textbook, right?”

At this prompt, Tim’s eyes snapped to Ophelia. She was a bit taller than him, and he leaned in close.

“……Thaaaaaanks.”

“You’re welcome. A curious way to express your gratitude—were you incorporating the squeal of a pig?”

“Ah, Lia’s found her sea legs,” Carlos purred, wincing a bit.

Once everyone was seated, Godfrey declared, “Our goal today is not just our usual patrol—we also want to scout potential workshop locations. We need a base to operate from. Thoughts?”

“Not gonna object, but why not just ask Walker?”

“That would be faster, but I don’t want to be reliant on him forever. Making experience our own requires a degree of trial and error. And…”

With that he paused, turning his smile at each in turn.

“…even if the result is a bit hinky, hideouts are something you want to make yourselves. You get me?”

Godfrey clearly expected an enthusiastic response, but instead Carlos, Lesedi, and Ophelia just looked at one another.

“…I don’t get it, Al.”

“Same.”

“I’m lost…”

Godfrey hung his head, and Tim slipped closer to him.

“Don’t let ’em bring you down! I get the appeal entirely!”

“…Thank you, Tim,” Godfrey managed.

Carlos couldn’t help but smile. “Still, I see why we should do it ourselves. Far be it from me to argue. I’ll come with you, Al.”

Lesedi and Ophelia nodded. Godfrey recovered and began to discuss specifics.

After dinner, they dove into the labyrinth, moving carefully—per Walker’s advice—as they searched for a potential workshop location. This proved more difficult than anticipated.

“…Mm, I thought we’d find a candidate easily enough, but clearly, I underestimated the challenges,” Godfrey mused.

“Sorry…it’s not just what the workshop itself needs,” Ophelia told him. “We also have to consider access to the school building. There are sites that are lacking one or two of our needs, but if we have to meet all of them…”

A three-hour search had proved fruitless. Ophelia had volunteered to examine the sites, so she was feeling pretty despondent.

“You’re rejecting these sites for our own good,” Godfrey said, smiling. “Thank you, Ophelia. I’m glad you’ve joined the watch.”

Those words struck home, and the mixture of joy and embarrassment meant she couldn’t even look at him. Tim was dancing in place behind her.

“Gahhh…! Enemies! Where are the enemies?! Give me work and Godfrey’s smile! A head pat for a job well done!”

“We’re not here to start things, Tim,” Carlos said, soothing the boy. “We will need you in time, so settle down.”

Meanwhile, Ophelia was examining the terrain before them.

“This is close, but positionally, it’ll have too much influence from the terrain shifts. We could make it work with major construction, using classical golem techniques… No, that’s just not practical.”

She muttered for another minute, then shook her head, and the group left to find another site.

“My, my, another shopper?”

Startled, all turned, hands grabbing hilts. The speaker found five blades pointed at her and put her hands up.

“Let’s not be hasty! As you can see, I’m running solo. And I’m a helpless little first-year. I’m not about to take on all five of you, am I?”

She pointed to her red tie. This girl had long front bangs that hid one of her eyes. Certain she was alone, Lesedi put her blade away.

“That much is true, at least,” she said. “So why speak to us at all? You know there’s little to be gained by making enemies here.”

“I made my call because I know your faces. With the infamous Godfrey here, I figured you wouldn’t attack on sight. After all, you’re the oddballs so odd that you go around helping people at Kimberly.”

She wasn’t mincing words, and Godfrey’s frown deepened.

“So that’s my current rep? I’m not pleased by the emphasis on odd, but I suppose I should be glad people at least know me.

“To make it formal—Alvin Godfrey, second-year. You are?”

Giving his name prompted her to return the favor. She bowed theatrically.

“Vera Miligan. I’m nobody yet, but I should say I back the civil rights movement and deplore the current treatment of demi-humans. Which I hope will help us get along.”

Her candor was enough to make Carlos lower their blade.

“Making that claim here is certainly bold. I’m Carlos Whitrow, and this is Lesedi Ingwe. I imagine our first-years need no introduction.”

“I appreciate the courtesy! I’m willing to bet that everyone in our year is all too aware of those two. They may not know me, but I hope this encounter changes that.”

Miligan held out a hand. Friendly, yet hard to trust. Ophelia and Tim warily shook her hand, and Miligan looked around the group once more.

“I feel this is not a lineup where playing cards close to my chest will help, so allow me to get to the point. Are you looking for a site to build a workshop?”

“Mm, is it that obvious?”

“If you stop here and call it ‘close,’ then yes. I reached much the same conclusion myself the other day. I swung back to make one last check and saw you here—I knew right away.”

Lesedi’s eyes narrowed. That made both their stances clear.

“So you’re also searching for a site, and you want to discuss something relevant?”

“Precisely. Let me clarify one point—I’ve already found solid candidates. Three of them, in fact. I’d love to break ground now, but on my own, that would be quite a challenge. There’s some significant work involved. I need more hands—and without someone to watch your back, work here is hardly efficient.”

Miligan put a hand to her hip, sighing. Then she beamed at them.

“So my proposition—of the three candidates, I’ll cede the best one to you. We’ll make it a shared workshop, and you’ll allow me to use it as a base of operations myself. Naturally, I’ll help with the work. This location doesn’t require major construction, but it’s still quite a long way to completion.”

An unexpected offer. They exchanged glances, considering it carefully.

“…We’re certainly interested,” Godfrey said. “But we do have questions.”

“Ask away!”

“First—this deal means we’re all in the same workshop. We’ll know what the other is working on. What we make of that is one thing, but are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t, no. Sharing is actually preferable. Even if I did manage to complete construction, I’m not at all certain I could maintain it on my own. I doubt there are many upperclassmen who’d bother stealing a workshop from a junior, but I could absolutely see myself targeted by students in my year or the one above. Should that happen, I’d rather have it defended.”

She rattled off her reasoning, and it all seemed to add up. Lesedi was starting to get on board.

“Also, right now, I’m not doing any research worth hiding. Mostly just going for quantity of dissections, which means I need a place where I can store the samples. That does mean I’ll need you to guarantee me that space within this shared workshop—I will have to insist on that.”

Now Miligan was actively pressing her luck, and when she saw them still considering this, she added one more thing.

“Meanwhile, consider your side. I hate to speculate out of turn, but you’re less in need of a research location than you are a base of operations, yes? In which case, you don’t have to worry about what I see. I believe this proposition will be mutually beneficial.”

But that also made Lesedi wary. “…You’re on the money. I suppose we’ve made no secret about our intentions.”

“Wait, stop piling on,” Ophelia said. “We’d be sharing a base—what matters most is whether we can trust you. How can you guarantee that?”

“That, I’m afraid, I have no way of proving offhand. We’ll have to hope our future interactions earn that. But in matters of trust, I’m the one shouldering the bulk of the risk. It is five against one. If you turn on me, I won’t last long.”

That was a disadvantage. Ophelia clammed up. She would’ve liked to say something clever to maintain an advantage, but she had spent her life avoiding company, and Miligan had an edge when it came to a battle of wits.

With both sides out of new cards to put down, Godfrey spoke again.

“We understand your suggestion. If I may make a counteroffer…”

“If you want me to join your watch, I’m afraid that’s a no-go, Godfrey. I sympathize with your cause and would love to help, but I’m focused on improving myself right now. I simply don’t have the time to run around helping others.”

Shot down already, Godfrey winced—and Miligan smiled.

“That said, when I’m free, I wouldn’t mind offering assistance. At the very least, I can help spread positive impressions of your actions. We’d be sharing a workshop—I could be considered an ancillary member, perhaps. Would that be enough?”

“More than enough,” Godfrey said, accepting her concession. “We’ll take this offer. We’ll discuss the particulars on the way to your location.”

“Are you sure?” Ophelia asked, clearly still suspicious.

“Her pitch is clear and consistent, and it benefits us both,” Godfrey replied. “I’m not sure what more she could do to earn our trust right now. And I like her spirit—spying the opportunity and stepping up to negotiate are qualities we can use, even in an ancillary member.”

Miligan clearly agreed with this appraisal.

“Kind words indeed! That settles things. Follow me—and do promise you won’t zap me once we get there, yes?”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away. Godfrey patted Ophelia on the back.

“Come on, Ophelia. It’ll be fine—this works for us.”

“…I hope so. But this girl seems like bad news.”

She was clearly not convinced—and in time, she’d learn her instincts were right.

Once they had a location, things moved smoothly. The labyrinth’s terrain shifted all the time, so it was not too difficult for a mage to create a workshop here. And Miligan had blueprints ready, so the construction phase lasted only a week.

“…Okay, it’s done! Feast your eyes!” Godfrey cried, standing in the main chamber.

Crystal lamps illuminated the space. It had an alchemy area with sinks, and a break area with a table and enough chairs for all. The large open area was meant for spell and sword practice. Three doors led out, one to a bathroom, two to smaller rooms—one of which was Miligan’s sample storehouse.

Godfrey looked quite pleased.

“Amateur construction, so there’s some rough edges, but not bad work at all. Heh-heh-heh… Now we can rest and resupply without heading up to campus. So much more we can get done!”

“A dream come true, Al?” Carlos smiled. “I’ll admit, I’m tickled pink myself. Now I can provide hot meals for our busy bees!”

Inspecting the ventilation, Tim nodded. “Got the extra airflow I wanted. All good. Wasn’t sure about leaving all the design to you, but you sure delivered on the blueprint.”

“My, my, high praise indeed!” Miligan chirped. “Ophelia, what do you say? My goal was to make this kiln accessible to everyone.”

“…I hate to admit it, but I can’t find anything to nitpick. Beyond the excessive size of your morgue, that is.”

“Please, call it sample containment. That was my condition going in, and it was never up for debate. I did my best to balance functionality and comfort in the space built for the rest of you. Let’s shake on that, shall we?”

Meanwhile, Carlos was placing glasses on the table, filling them with juice.

“Come, let us celebrate! I brought white grape juice just for the occasion.”

“How thoughtful, Carlos,” said Godfrey. “To the completion of our first workshop—a toast!”

Everyone raised their glasses. Five regular members, one ancillary—all with a base to call their own.

Kevin Walker’s instruction and their new base—these two factors put wind in their sails, and the neighborhood watch began getting things done.

Naturally, they weren’t crazy enough to poke their noses into every conflict between students. Miligan, who was now calling herself the brains of their operation, had suggested they start by passing out free magic tools. All-purpose antidotes, smoke orbs, rescue orbs—tools that would help them get out of a jam—given out like candy. Naturally, they explained the purpose of the watch as they did so. This wasn’t exactly cheap, but they earned the needed funds gathering materials with Walker on the second layer, the bustling forest. This was good training and good income, and each excursion made them that much better at handling the labyrinth.

With Tim in the watch’s ranks, many students were disinclined to trust ingestible potions. But Godfrey’s own reputation was rapidly spreading and largely canceled this out; most students looked perplexed but accepted the other types of tools readily enough. This steadily made the watch recognizable even down here—Kimberly students knew how to spy an advantage, and students in the lower forms were soon making use of the watch. If they could mitigate the risks of exploration by simply acting friendly with the watch, why not do so?

It was hard work, but Godfrey’s group could feel it paying off. Wondering what their next step should be, Godfrey wandered the halls of the school building—and made himself the subject of discussion.

“Oh, the idiot’s here.”

“Making a name for himself.”

“Got a base in the labyrinth now.”

“Nobody’s hammered him down yet?”

“I bet they’re getting ready to.”

Opinions varied wildly, but Godfrey was only interested in the future—until a student blocked his way.

“…Ah…”

“Speak of the devil.”

Not wanting to get caught up in the cross fire, the surrounding students made themselves scarce. Godfrey stopped, eyes on the breathtakingly beautiful blond boy before him. He was flanked by a boy and a girl, both second-years—and judging by the pointy ears, the girl was an elf.

“…Yes, seen up close, your face does resemble the king of the apes.”

“And you would be—?”

Before Godfrey could finish, the boy spoke over him.

“No introductions are necessary, but I do like to mind my manners. Leoncio Echevalria. I shall not be requiring your name—apes have no concept of etiquette.”

“Alvin Godfrey. As you can see, I’m fully human. The etiquette I learned at home may be inadequate, but I know better than to insult a stranger to their face.”

This boy was clearly trying to get a rise out of Godfrey, so he responded with sarcasm. The elf started giggling.

“…Kah-heh-heh……”

“Restraint, Khiirgi,” whispered the other flunky. He carried himself like a gentleman.

“Retorts come as easily to you as does breathing.” Leoncio snorted. “As they should. Entirely suiting a creature of your ilk.”

“What’s your business with me, Mr. Echevalria? You came with backup. I assume this is not a consultation.”

“I’m glad you understand. Let me be clear—you’re an eyesore.”

With that, he sighed dramatically.

“You got into Kimberly, yet you decide to help people? I looked the other way while you were merely roaming the halls on campus, but I cannot do the same within the labyrinth. Do you realize your tactless efforts are rubbing people the wrong way?”

“I’m just trying to help. Like you yourself said, if that rubs people the wrong way, that’s a clear indication they’re after the opposite.”

“He’s got you there!”

“Khiirgi!”

This time, the second boy chastised the elf in much stronger tones. Ignoring them, Leoncio frowned.

“Do you imagine this place operates on binary morality? That alone makes me wonder if you even are a mage. How can one truly pursue sorcery while trapped in the shallow ethics of the ordinaries? Your words are an insult to the institution of Kimberly itself.”

“I disagree. This school is all about freedom and results. Accordingly, I’m acting freely, striving for results along the path that takes me to. Pray tell, what is wrong with that?”

“The motto alone is not the only norm in play. There is a logic that mages, by their nature, ought to follow. This is not spelled out in so many words for the simple reason that it is not needed—until someone like you arrives.”

“So a bad habit grew into an unwritten rule. Perfect. That’s exactly what I want to change.”

The elf whistled and then gurgled—the boy had yanked hard on her collar, dragging her away. That left Godfrey and Leoncio glaring each other down.

“Before you stands an opportunity. A chance to become a leader under the auspices of the next student body president. That, of course, will depend on your future performance, but I will treat you fairly. And you are hardly the type to content yourself with the nectar your keeper provides.”

Godfrey gave this invitation due consideration and then smiled. “Ah, I see where you’re coming from. But I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”

“…Meaning?”

“I intend to run for student body president myself. If I want to change this place, I’ll need status and power. I’m afraid that makes us rivals.”

This confident proclamation caught Leoncio flat-footed, and he rubbed his temples.

“…Never have I encountered stupidity so dizzying. Just to be sure—have you gone quite mad?”

“Look me in the eye and make your own call. Do I look crazy?”

Godfrey caught his gaze and held it. His eyes did not waver. Leoncio took full measure of that and then spun on his heel.

“Indeed you do,” he spat. “You’re as mad as they come.”

Down the hall, the other boy was chewing the elf out. He looked up as Leoncio approached, and the boy’s poker face told him exactly how well the offer had gone.

“Are we backing off? I’m assuming he said no.”

“A complete waste of time. There is no saving him. His skull was always empty.”

Leoncio sounded bitter. His gaze turned to the elf and her sinister smile.

“Snatch up the two first-years. Crush the rest before the day is out. That is your penalty for speaking out of turn. I trust you can handle it, Khiirgi?”

“Haaa-ha, but of course! That punishment is but a reward. You are a talented keeper, Leo.”

She gleefully nodded, licking her lips with relish, her eyes already on her prey.