Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 2 - Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

My Responsibility

The school festival would use two main types of fireworks. The first was the type that would be shot into the sky at regular intervals, and the second was the type used for plays. The former would be brought in on the day before the festival, but the latter would be used during rehearsals as well, so it needed to be brought in earlier.

Aside from student council members Felix and Elliott, Lady Maybell Hanes—in charge of the stage production—was supervising as well. Expert contractors would be the ones actually handling the fireworks during the stage play, but Maybell would need to be advised on their handling as the one in charge.

Maybell Hanes was an intelligent student in her third year. Her glasses suited her features well, and she could usually be found by a window quietly reading a book. She was famous, though, for how her eyes lit up and she practically became a different person whenever it came to the topic of stage production.

Maybell sidled up to Felix as he observed the contractors’ work. “Priiince?” she whispered, her voice exaggerated and fawning. “Have you considered what we talked about?”

“Appearing in the play?” asked Felix. “I believe I turned you down when you first suggested it.”

“I am keenly aware that your student council duties keep you extremely busy. It wouldn’t be for long, though—just a moment. Won’t you please make an appearance as the first king, just for the final scene?”

Maybell was putting on so much pressure that even Elliott, who was standing next to Felix and looking at the list, silently took a few steps away. Felix cast a glance at the other boy as he replied. “Someone else will be playing the part the rest of the time,” he explained. “If I was to suddenly replace him in the final scene, the play would only suffer.”

“Oh! Oh, why, that’s not true at all. I have no doubt that all who see you onstage will both cheer and break down in tears! Yes! Yes, I can hear them now—the voices of the audience, applause strong enough to split the earth!”

“You’re exaggerating,” said Felix, paying her no mind. Maybell was usually modest and taciturn, the very picture of a lady. It was just that, when it came to stage production, she got a little too passionate.

“If I had my way,” continued Maybell, “you would be the first king; Lord Cyril would be Sheffield, King of the Wind Spirits; Lady Bridget would be Luluchera, King of the Water Spirits; and Lord Elliott would be Archraedo, King of the Earth Spirits… Everyone in the student council is so gorgeous, after all! Simply having you all stand onstage would be incredible!”

Felix pretended not to hear her as he continued checking the crates in silence.

Maybell walked around so she’d be in front of him, then looked up, her eyes more stiflingly passionate than those of a maiden in love. “Please, might you find it in your heart to reconsider? Lady Eliane is playing the queen, and she has said she would very much like you to be the hero, Ralph.”

“……Really?” As soon as he heard the name Eliane, a slight shadow came over Felix’s blue eyes. But his calm smile remained. “Then allow me to give an official answer,” he said. “Members of the student council cannot take part in the play. And should you continue to insist, I shall have to treat it as interfering with student council duties.”

“Urk!” Maybell grunted, very unladylike, at the prince’s firm rejection before biting down on her handkerchief.

Seeing this, Felix dropped his harsh tone. “I trust that the play will be a success even if I don’t appear in it,” he said. “I’d like you to make it a wonderful occasion—I’m expecting a lot.”

Now even Maybell couldn’t push any further. After skillfully fending her off, Felix returned to his verification work as Elliott, who had been watching from a few steps away, casually walked back over.

“You handled her well,” commented Elliott. “A silver tongue as usual… But are you sure about this? If Lady Eliane wants you to be her partner…”

Eliane was Felix’s second cousin. Duke Clockford seemed to be eyeing her as the prince’s future fiancée. But Felix couldn’t care less about that. He shrugged. “I was being honest about how busy we are with our work. My hands are tied. I’m sure Lady Eliane will understand.”

“Giving one of the school’s three beauties the cold shoulder?” remarked Elliott. “Others would kill to be in your position.”

“You don’t really think that,” murmured Felix, quietly enough not to be heard, lowering his gaze to his own list.

It wasn’t as though the prince hated the fiancée Duke Clockford had arranged for him—he just wasn’t interested. He wasn’t interested in anything: not marriage candidates, nor the bright future awaiting him, nor anything else, really.

…And yet I must still become king, he thought. Even if others call me Duke Clockford’s puppet.

“…I can’t let Duke Clockford’s puppet become king,” growled Casey, gritting her teeth. Her usual energetic smile was gone, replaced with dark shades of hopelessness.

It was then that Monica finally understood.

Casey had made the wood fall on herself to stage an accident—and give herself an alibi. If two incidents were to happen in the same day, most people would assume a single party had been targeting Felix with both of them. Involving herself in one of them would draw suspicion away from her.

If Casey had gotten crushed by the beams and been badly hurt, nobody would have suspected her. She’d be able to pretend she was just collateral damage.

So that’s why she…did something so dangerous…, thought Monica. One wrong move, and the lumber could have killed her. Casey was walking a thin tightrope—one that sent a shiver up Monica’s spine.

“But why…? Casey, why…?”

Why did she need to go so far as to try and kill Felix? She’d smuggled in a dangerous magic item, tried to fake an accident, and even plotted her own alibi. Monica couldn’t understand her.

Casey’s lips drew back into a grin, her expression still twisted in despair. “If Prince Felix ascends the throne…then Duke Clockford, who controls him, will start a war with the Kingdom of Landor. The puppet second prince wouldn’t be able to stop it.”

The Kingdom of Landor was a small nation adjacent to both Ridill and the Empire and the birthplace of the first prince’s mother. Before, over chocolate, Felix had explained to Monica the strength of the ties between the first prince’s faction and Landor.

…What he hadn’t mentioned was how the second prince’s faction felt toward the other nation.

“Do you remember that earth dragon that showed up near Craeme a little while ago?” asked Casey.

Why is she bringing that up now? wondered Monica, nodding weakly. She couldn’t possibly forget it. She’d slain it herself, then concealed it and let Glenn take the credit.

“When I heard a passing mage had slain it,” explained Casey, “I was relieved…but also envious. When an earth dragon appeared in my homeland, we had no mages to stop it. An entire village and so many people—gone, just like that.”

Even if a mage had been present, it wouldn’t have been an easy task to slay a dragon. With their high resistance to mana, you couldn’t kill one without hitting it exactly between the eyes.

Casey must know that. But the warped look on her face told Monica she couldn’t help but feel envious despite herself. That was the face of someone who had seen many dragonraids and lost much that was important to her.

“You see, my homeland is on the border with Landor. The dragonraids are awful there, but we don’t have the money to rely on other nobles. The suffering is constant.”

It would take time for the Dragon Knights to arrive from the capital, and they would need to pay for assistance from nearby nobles with ready combat forces. Certain nobles like Count Kerbeck provided military support to nearby houses, but it wasn’t charity work. It took vast funding to maintain an army.

“We had no soldiers and no money,” continued Casey. “Both the people and the land itself were exhausted from fighting dragons. And yet, this nation never reached out to help us.”

Monica had heard about the discord between center nobles and country nobles. The capital’s Dragon Knights were the best of the best, but the reality was that they wouldn’t act on the threat of a single lesser dragon.

“Landor helped us in secret. My family has had exchanges with Landor for generations… They secretly dispatched knights across the border to save my home.”

King Landor sending knights across a border in secret broke international regulations, of course. But how grateful must Casey and the others have been after living their lives in constant fear of dragons?

Ridill’s Dragon Knights were always dispatched based on a system of priority. It wasn’t difficult to imagine them leaving a small, penniless region in the countryside for later. Naturally, Casey would feel more of an obligation to Landor for saving them than to her own kingdom.

“Prince Felix is under the protection of Duke Clockford, who wants to invade Landor. He eventually wants war with the Empire, and Landor is a stepping-stone to that.”

Despair, as well as an intense fury, lurked deep in Casey’s eyes. Monica was reflected in them, terrified and unable to move. Casey spat out her words.

“I can’t forgive them—neither Duke Clockford nor the puppet second prince.”

Casey pointed the knife in her hand at Monica. Nero immediately jumped in and twisted her wrist. As he held her down, his golden eyes looked toward the west—toward Felix and Elliott.

“What do we do, Monica?!” he demanded. “The west storehouse is getting worse!”

“……!”

Spiralflame was a magic item created for the purpose of assassination; it was about as big as a broach, and it could fit in your palm. Once activated, it would draw in mana from the surrounding area and store it up before eventually expelling it again in an explosive firestorm. The flames whirled around at a high speed to penetrate targets, which was how it got its name.

It was known to be especially lethal. Spiralflame’s fire was powerful enough to pierce most defensive barriers with ease; for that reason, it was also known as a mage killer. Its weakness was its small effective area. Despite its strength, it couldn’t reach very far.

But if it went off in a storehouse full of explosives, it could cause much, much more damage. And that’s just where it had been placed—Casey had been deadly serious about this.

Spiralflames were tools meant to assassinate someone with a high rate of success. Not even Casey falling unconscious or losing her life would stop it. The only way was for Casey to personally give the stop command to the magic item.

“Please… Please, Casey… Stop the Spiralflame…!” begged Monica.

Still pinned down by Nero, Casey slowly shook her head. “I won’t. Even if you torture me, I won’t call it off. I must carry out Prince Felix’s assassination.”

The ruthlessness of her determination frightened Monica. No matter how much she cried or wailed, Casey would probably never stop the item.

“Hey! Monica, we don’t have time!” Nero yelled. Monica had been standing, frozen in place.

Tears formed in her eyes. How she would have liked to just break down and cry like a child.

But if Monica did nothing, there would be massive casualties. The academy would be thrown into chaos, and Felix as well as anyone nearby would either be injured or lose their lives.

I can’t let that happen… Monica shut her eyes over her tears. If Monica Norton’s responsibility as student council accountant was acting in a manner befitting of her position…

…Then this is…my responsibility as the Silent Witch, one of the Seven Sages.

She’d gotten help from everyone else when it came to dancing and tea parties, but this was one thing she had to do on her own.

Shoving back down the whines and complaints that were bubbling up in her throat, Monica thought through every option available to her for resolving the current situation.

Use an amplification spell to warn all the students to retreat? No. I can’t use words to convince people—they’ll never believe me. Use a wind spell to knock the Spiralflame into the air? …No. The Spiralflame is affixed to something when used, so it’s probably attached to the wall or floor. And since it drains the surrounding mana, one wrong move could cause it to explode at the same time my spell goes off.

In the end, the best option she could come up with was to enclose the Spiralflame in a barrier to hold in the effects. Since Monica could use remote magecraft, she could just barely put a barrier up from here. The issue would be its strength. The item was destructive enough to rip through most barriers.

If I pour all my mana into it, I could dampen the Spiralflame’s impact…but that won’t be enough. I have to stifle it completely or it’ll ignite the fireworks, and everything will go up in flames anyway. I’d need a barrier at least as powerful as Mr. Louis’s—

And then she had an epiphany.

She ran over to the window and told her familiar, “Nero, I’m going to attack the academy.”

“…Wait. What?”

“Remember how Mr. Louis said a defensive barrier will activate if the school is attacked from the outside? Find the source of that barrier.”

Without waiting for an answer, Monica used unchanted magecraft to create several powerful spears made of wind.

Attack spells generally appeared near the caster, then flew toward the target. But Monica instead used advanced remote magecraft to create the spears outside the campus, then used them to attack the academy.

This school was protected by a large-scale defensive barrier created by the Barrier Mage Louis Miller. If Monica fired spears at it, the barrier would register them as an attack from outside and immediately deploy across the entire academy.

The firm barrier easily repelled her wind spears. As expected of the Barrier Mage—his work was in a league of its own.

“Nero!” she shouted. “Where’s it coming from?!”

“Close by,” replied Nero. “The old gardens, I think?”

“Bring me there!”

“Gotcha,” said Nero, slinging Casey over his left shoulder and Monica over his right. He then bounded back through the window frame and landed outside, launching into a sprint the moment he hit the ground.

As Nero carried them, Casey glared at Monica. “…Nothing you do will matter,” she said. “The Spiralflame will go off in moments. There’s nothing you can do.”

“You’re wrong,” declared Monica, uncharacteristically firm. Casey’s eyes widened. Pushing aside her usual frightened demeanor, Monica continued in a strong voice, “I’ll be able to stop it… No, I have to stop it.” She seemed to be trying to convince herself of what she was saying.

Monica closed her eyes, shut her mouth, and steeled her determination.

After all…I’m the Silent Witch.

Casey Grove had three older brothers, but all three of them had gone out to fight dragons and never returned.

Her oldest brother had been grabbed by a pterodragon and dropped off a cliff. It had broken his neck, killing him instantly.

Her second brother had been torn apart by a red dragon’s claws. They’d brought back his limbless remains.

Her third brother had been burned to death by the fire breath of a red dragon. His scorched skin had fused with his helmet and armor; unable to take them off, they’d been forced to bury him as he was.

Each time dragons threatened their home, her father would request over and over for the kingdom to dispatch the Dragon Knights. They almost never arrived on time.

Casey’s homeland was called Bright, and it was a low priority for the Kingdom of Ridill. Center nobles barely acknowledged its existence. In fact, the truth was that allowing so many dragon attacks to take place at their borders actually lowered the likelihood of foreign invasion.

Some would even joke that dragons were a better line of defense than weak nobles—without sparing a single thought for the people who lived in those lands.

The dragons had ruined their homeland and stolen their family… But finally, as they struggled in vain, in the depths of despair, the knights of Landor had saved them. In secret, they rode into Bright to exterminate the dragons.

Apparently, they owed the cooperation to the fact that Casey’s grandmother had been a marchioness in Landor. Casey and the others living there, who had been abandoned by their own nation, were endlessly grateful for the support.

Ever since then, Casey’s father—Count Bright—had been secretly colluding with the nobles of the Kingdom of Landor. Eventually, they began discussing their respective nations’ states of affairs. One man who frequently came up was Duke Clockford, a noble of great influence in Ridill.

The duke was the maternal grandfather of the second prince and wielded more authority than anyone else in the kingdom. He had war with the Empire in his sights, and he seemed to be considering an invasion of Landor as a first step. If the second prince became king, this nightmare would be realized.

So Casey had asked her agonized father if there was anything she could do.

Her father, his cheeks sunken, looked conflicted.

He was conflicted because there was something—something she could do.

So then, rather than as a daughter who loved her father, she spoke her next words as a member of House Bright: “Father, if there is anything I can do, you need only give the order.”

Hearing the determination in her words, the conflicted expression vanished from Count Bright’s face. “Go to Serendia Academy and seduce Prince Felix. And if that doesn’t work…”

He opened a drawer and took out a small box. It contained what appeared to be a broach with a red gemstone embedded in it. But on the reverse side, instead of clasps to secure it to clothing, there were three long vertical rivets. It was meant to be affixed to a surface.

“This is a magical item meant for assassination: Spiralflame… Should the situation arise, use it to kill the prince.”

What in the world is going on…? thought Casey in utter confusion as she rode on the black-haired man’s shoulder. This “Nero” person was clearly past the age to attend school, and yet he was wearing a uniform. Stranger still was Monica.

Casey had been surprised that Monica even knew about the Spiralflame, and now the girl had claimed she would disable it.

There’s no way she’ll be able to do it…

Casey’s father had told her just how powerful an item a Spiralflame was. Its flaws were that it took a little bit of time to activate after its user gave the trigger command and that it had a short effective range. She’d been very careful about preparing it beforehand.

She’d want to aim for when the Abbott Company was bringing the fireworks into the storehouse and Felix had already gotten close to trigger the Spiralflame. That way, even if Felix wasn’t directly hit by it, he’d be killed in the resulting explosion.

When the robbers had faked being from the Abbott Company and infiltrated the academy, she’d panicked, thinking that it was too soon. That was why she’d snuck over…and how she’d met Monica.

If those intruders had gotten away with the robbery and they’d canceled the school festival, it would have ruined the entire assassination plan as well… It was a stroke of good luck that the horses went out of control and thwarted the robbers.

Above all, it was because of what had happened that she’d grown close to Monica, a student council member—a council the second prince also sat on. By becoming her friend, she wanted to try and figure out the second prince’s plans. That was why she’d been so aggressive in interacting with Monica. Even throwing her tea leaves out during class had been so she could then help her in her time of need and establish a bond of trust. Everything had been in order to create a chance for Casey to assassinate the second prince.

Finally, the contractors had arrived to bring in the fireworks, and the second prince, her target, would be overseeing it. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She’d already triggered the Spiralflame. Now she just had to wait for it to go off.

…So then why…?

Monica was deep in thought, her face so expressionless, Casey could hardly believe she was the same person.

Casey recognized the look on her face, though. She’d seen it on her brothers’ faces—when they’d made the decision to leave and fight the dragons.

Upon arriving at the entrance to the old gardens and seeing the gate, Nero scrunched up his face. “Gate’s closed, Monica. Little high for even me to jump over.”

Monica climbed off his shoulder, pointed a finger at the gate’s lock—and used an unchanted fire spell. It produced a small fireball about the size of her fingernail. But the attack had been strengthened fourfold, and a mere swing of her finger incinerated the lock easily.

Giving off the odor of burning metal, the lock fell to the ground with a clunk.

Casey gasped. Monica chose not to look back and proceeded into the old gardens. The place hadn’t been maintained, and it was covered with weeds. And in the middle of it sat a worn-down fountain.

Monica placed a hand on the edge of the fountain and peered inside. Rainwater had pooled at the bottom of the unused bowl, and it was all covered with moss—behind which she could make out a magical formula.

Nero took a look into the fountain as well, Casey still slung over his shoulder. “This the barrier? The one that Lountatta guy with the awful personality said he put up to protect the academy? What’re you gonna do with it?”

“I’ll rewrite it to counteract the Spiralflame… Nero, stand back a moment,” said Monica, touching the magic formula at the fountain’s bottom with a finger.

Around the large-scale barrier was a trap that had been set up to activate when someone attempted to rewrite it. Even Monica had no way of knowing what exactly the trap was.

That meant that the only option was to trigger it on purpose, then disable it.

Staying cautious, ready to deploy her own defensive barrier at any time to block the attack, she poured her mana into the magic formula.

…Wait, nothing’s happening. Miss Ryn said there was a trap here—

“Monica, below!” exclaimed Nero, grabbing her by the back of her neck and jumping away.

A moment later, the ground around the fountain rose and fell as something burst out of it.

For a moment, she thought she was seeing the bodies of thin snakes—but on closer inspection, it was a branching clump of green vines. They grew at an alarmingly fast rate, covering up the fountain as they went. Sharp thorns were all over the vines, as well as a few buds here and there. Those buds immediately expanded, blossoming into vivid red roses.

A beautiful rose cage now covered the fountain. It was wonderfully fantastical…but the vines coiled and twisted around the fountain like snakes rearing their heads in warning. If she got too close, it was clear that they’d wrap around her and send her into a world of pain.

Nero scowled and groaned. “Now that’s one killer barrier. I knew your colleague’s personality was awful, but was it this bad?”

“…No. I don’t think…that Mr. Louis was the one who made this.”

“Wait, what?”

To control plant life, you used imbuement magic of the earth element. But such spells were incredibly difficult. And making them grow to full size in an instant like this wasn’t something normal people could pull off.

Monica could think of only one person who could have done this: a mage from the oldest, most historic house in the Kingdom of Ridill, which specialized in imbuing plants with mana—and, in particular, manipulating roses.

“I think this spell belongs to another Sage like me—the Witch of Thorns,” said Monica.

Louis had probably constructed the wide-ranging defensive barrier to protect the academy, while the Witch of Thorns had worked on the trap to protect the barrier itself from being rewritten.

In other words, it was a collaboration between two of the Seven Sages.

Nero looked astonished. “…Proving once again that nobody normal is allowed in the Seven Sages.”

“Aw,” moaned Monica in response, a hand to her chest—just as the rose vines flung out like whips to attack them.

Casey, still on Nero’s shoulder, gasped, terrified. Monica, though, didn’t bat an eyelash as she used an unchanted spell to produce a blade of wind to sever the vines.

The vines fell to pieces and dropped limply to the ground as though chopped up by a sharp blade. However, more vines immediately sprouted from the sliced ends. This might go on forever.

If I keep attacking the rose vines like this, I could whittle them down…but it would take too long.

Continuing her offensive with the wind blade, Monica activated a detection spell and checked on the Spiralflame’s mana. It had swelled almost to the point of bursting. It probably wouldn’t be even three minutes before it exploded.

In those three minutes, she had to destroy this rose cage, disengage the dummy formulae safeguarding against overwriting, and rewrite the defensive barrier to work against the Spiralflame—something impossible for anyone else.

“Now what, Monica?” asked Nero teasingly. Casey just stared at her in sheer disbelief.

But Monica neither heard Nero’s voice nor noticed Casey’s eyes on her.

She sank into her own consciousness, silent, as if sinking into the depths of the ocean, into a realm with neither light nor sound—a world of beautiful equations and magic formulae, all of which whirled past her at blinding speed. But she wove them anew with precision and beauty.

She seemed to stay in that enchanted state for an eternity. In reality, it was only three seconds. And then, without any chanting, it was complete—a magic formula consisting of an enormous amount of magical symbols.

“Whoa,” said Nero, seemingly enjoying himself. “Haven’t seen that one in a while.”

Casey’s eyes couldn’t have been wider as she stared from the familiar’s shoulder and murmured, “What is that…?”

White particles of light began to gather above the fountain, coming together to form the shape of a gate.

It was the spell that had appeared in the skies above Kerbeck and slain the dragon—a gate for summoning one of the Spirit Kings.

Having produced the gate, the Silent Witch finally opened her mouth to speak.

While Monica could use most spells without chanting, there were certain ones she couldn’t abbreviate. Those ones were unrelated to the construction of magical formulae—they were called ritual chants, words used when summoning a high-ranking spirit to show respect and appreciation for the summoned being.

Though Monica was usually too scared to even open her mouth in front of people, she now intoned the ritual chant right in front of Casey.

“In the name of Monica Everett, the Silent Witch and one of the Seven Sages…I command this gate to open.”

The closed gate swung open without a sound, causing white light to come rushing through it. A powerful gust blew through Monica’s light-brown hair. Her bangs whipped in the wind, and below them, her eyes reflected the white light, causing them to shine the brilliant color of spring verdure.

“Come forth from the edge of stillness—Sheffield, King of the Wind Spirits!”

As Felix stood in front of the west storehouse watching the contractors ferry in supplies, he noticed a slight wriggling in his pocket. Wildianu—his contracted spirit who took the form of a white lizard—was moving around. It seemed he had something to tell him.

Felix told Elliott he’d be stepping away for a moment, then left and hid himself behind a tree.

“What is it, Wil?” he asked.

“…I apologize for interrupting your work,” replied Wildianu, poking his face out of the prince’s pocket before anxiously looking around.

This didn’t seem normal. “Wil?” asked Felix a second time.

Wildianu looked up at Felix with his light-blue eyes. “A gate to summon a Spirit King has opened somewhere in the vicinity.”

“You mean someone has used a spell to summon a Spirit King?”

“Yes. I sense it is most likely Sheffield, King of the Wind Spirits.”

Most high mages couldn’t even summon a Spirit King. The ability was essentially limited to members of the Seven Sages. Is a Sage nearby? wondered Felix. One specializing in wind magic…the Barrier Mage Louis Miller, perhaps?

The summoning of a Spirit King was no ordinary event. It meant a large-scale battle was happening—or something rivaling one in importance.

“Wil,” said the prince, “keep an eye out for now. Once the work finishes, we’ll go take a look around the campus.”

“Yes, sir.”

The white lizard gave a small shake of his head and returned to Felix’s pocket.

But neither the prince nor Wildianu—who was a poor detector—had realized the more insidious reality: that inside the storehouse right next to them, flame mana was whirling into a spiral, about to explode at any moment.

The gate that had appeared over the fountain was significantly smaller than the one that had shot down the pterodragons from the skies over Kerbeck. Even so, it held more than enough power to scatter the roses before her.

The wind blowing from the gate was wrapped in white particles of light that danced through the air, formed white blades, and tore the roses covering the fountain asunder—along with the trap’s magic formula at the bottom of the structure.

It was like a giant hatchet swinging around at random. The rose vines flew apart, and cracks ran through the fountain.

Eventually, the wind ceased, and the gate made of white light melted back into the sky.

“…Monica?”

Monica heard Casey’s voice from behind her. It was confused, hoarse, and shaky.

“…What was that…? And…you said a Sage…”

Monica didn’t turn around—she kept her eyes on the fountain. “…You weren’t the only one keeping secrets, Casey.”

That was the most she could manage to tell her right now. More importantly, there was still something she needed to do. Now that she’d destroyed the trap, she could rewrite the defensive barrier around the academy.

The formula, engraved at the bottom of the fountain, was so wondrous that it made Monica sigh in admiration. When the Barrier Mage Louis Miller put in the time to create something, it was always a marvel.

The skill needed to construct a delicate, complex barrier like this was like that of a first-rate architect. Louis was a genius among geniuses, just in a different way than Monica was—though his personality left something to be desired.

Several dummy formulae had been embedded in the main formula to guard against overwriting. She had to disengage those before she’d be able to rewrite the barrier.

“Monica! The mana in the west storehouse is out of control! It’s gonna blow!”

Even Nero’s yells no longer reached Monica’s ears. Her eyes were fully open, reflecting the complicated, nigh incomprehensible magic formula. She read it piece by piece as though she was solving an equation.

Dummy formulae analyzed. Disengaging…done. Specifying barrier coordinates. Changing activation conditions from “external attack” to “internal attack.” Restricting to fire-attribute spells. Eliminating oxygen. Now I just have to compress it. Further, further…

Unlike her flashy spell for summoning the Spirit King, this was a modest, quiet battle. Having gained full comprehension of Louis’s defensive barrier, she compressed it down so that it would cover just the Spiralflame instead of the whole school. She could make it extremely small, since the Spiralflame could fit in the palm of one’s hand.

……Done!

A moment after she’d finished rewriting the formula, the Spiralflame set under a shelf in the west storehouse blew. It was like a million tiny springs all finally uncoiling, sending fire swirling into a spiral.

Those flames would have incinerated everyone within range, ignited the fireworks, and caused a massive explosion…but the super-small barrier Monica had rewritten held it all in.

Normally, barriers were made to permit the entrance of things humans needed to live—oxygen and so forth. But Monica had purposely set it to block oxygen from entering. It was the same as the logic behind putting a lid over an alcohol burner to extinguish the flame. Without any oxygen inside the barrier, the Spiralflame’s effects quickly vanished as though nothing had happened.

Monica used a detection formula to verify that the Spiralflame had completely burned itself out, then she heaved a long sigh.

“Spiralflame…successfully disabled,” she said, falling over backward. She’d hit the bottom of her mana reserves after summoning the Spirit King and rewriting the large barrier spell.

Nero looked down at Casey, who was stunned silent, and he shot her a proud grin. “How’d you like that? My master’s pretty amazing, eh?”