Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 2 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

The Bull with No Tail, the Cheerful Noble Girl, and the Cat Who Wore a Skirt

Once the observation tour was over, Monica headed to the student council room. She was dragging her feet—after all, she’d slipped out in the middle of fundamental magecraft and hadn’t returned before the tour was over. Felix might say something to her.

…But that chess class was fun.

Chess was entertaining to her in a different way than equations and magical formulae were. As she thought through all the different moves she could have made—if she’d used the knight then, instead of the pawn, or if her opponent had attacked like so—she opened the door to the student council room.

Only Cyril and Elliott were inside. They were both looking seriously at a piece of paper, lost in conversation. Wondering if some sort of trouble had cropped up, Monica listened in on what they were saying.

“…Cyril, I’m going to ask again. What is this?”

“All I can see is a bull and a wheel.”

“All I can see is a rabbit and a rotten orange slice!”

Based on what little she could hear, she had no idea what they were talking about. But before she could figure out what to say, Elliott noticed her and looked up from the sheet of paper—before making a bitter face and averting his eyes.

D-did I say something rude during chess today…and make him angry…?! she thought, flustered.

Cyril noticed Monica as well and called out to her. “Oh. Accountant Norton.”

Accountant Norton—when he said her title, she felt her back straighten slightly. No longer hunched and standing a little taller, she looked up at Cyril. “H-hello… Um, what were you, uh, talking about?” she asked.

Cyril lowered his gaze to the piece of paper. “Preparations for the school festival will be in full swing starting next month, and we’ll have a lot more contractors coming in and out. We were verifying the contractors’ seals in advance.”

Monica remembered seeing contractors’ seals on the documents she and Neil had been organizing the day before. She thought back on the emblems inscribed next to the company names.

Elliott continued Cyril’s explanation. “I’m in charge of handling the Abbott Company, which Cyril was in charge of last year. When I asked him what their seal looked like, he told me it was a bull and a wheel. But both of those are incredibly common, right? I know of at least three or four companies with a bull-and-wheel motif.”

“That’s why I drew it out for you,” said Cyril, a sour expression on his face as he thrust the paper in his hand at Elliott.

When Monica caught a glimpse of it, she found herself at a loss for words. If she had to express what she saw verbally, she might say…it was a distorted circular object split into twelve sections behind a four-legged, wriggly something-or-other.

Elliott looked exasperated as he pointed to the wriggly something-or-other’s head. “Right here, poking up vertically—those are rabbit ears, aren’t they?”

“They’re bull horns,” stated Cyril, his tone matter-of-fact.

Elliott turned a pitying gaze on the other boy.

Monica didn’t want to be rude to Cyril, but she agreed with Elliott. The short legs on the round silhouette definitely seemed more rabbitlike than bull-like. She was staring into the wriggly thing’s big, round eyes when Elliott turned the conversation to her. “Hey, Lady Norton. Does this look like a bull to you?”

“Huh?! Uh, ummmmmmm…” She stole a glance at Cyril, who was staring at her with his usual piercing gaze. But in those sharp, penetrating eyes, she got the feeling—though perhaps it was just her imagination—that she saw a glitter of something like…anticipation…

When Monica started fiddling with her fingers and letting her gaze drift, Elliott shrugged. “See, Cyril? Face reality.”

“Well, this is all the prince himself needed to figure it out!”

“Yeah, probably because he knows you were handling Abbott last year,” said Elliott, exasperated.

Cyril flew into a rage. “You doubt His Royal Highness’s words?!”

“What I doubt is your artistic sense! How did you think this would get your point across?! Ugh. This is what happens when someone has no refinement!”

As the two started to argue in earnest, Monica rallied her courage and stammered, “Um, umm, umm…!”

They both turned toward her—which alone nearly caused her legs to buckle. Nevertheless, she snatched up a feather pen and focused, scrawling something on a nearby piece of paper. After about a minute, Monica had finished.

“Th-this is the, um, emblem for the Abbott Company…”

A bull facing left against a wheel with twelve spokes. She’d drawn it from memory. Cyril’s and Elliott’s eyes were glued to the paper.

“It’s exactly how I remember it.”

“Lady Norton, would you happen to be related to the Abbott Company in some way?”

Monica shook her head, then returned the feather pen to its stand. “I saw it on the list yesterday. Um, I…I’m good at remembering diagrams and drawing them from memory, so…”

Certain imbuement spells, which imbued matter with mana, wove a magical formula into a special pattern or design. Monica loved those patterns—they were beautifully calculated—and whenever she’d had a free moment at Minerva’s, she used to copy them down on paper until her hands were black with ink.

“How do you draw such perfect circles and straight lines without using any tools…?” wondered Elliott aloud.

Cyril looked between his own picture and Monica’s, then pounded a fist into his palm as though he’d just realized something. “I see. My bull was missing a tail.”

“What it was missing was any kind of artistic ability. How can someone so embarrassed about their singing being heard shamelessly show other people something like this?”

Just as hostility began to creep back into the room, the door swung open. It was the beautiful student council secretary, Bridget Greyham.

She took one look at the two boys, still glaring at each other, and declared flatly, “Security contacted us saying an Abbott Company cart is at the front gate. Whoever is handling them, please go check them in.”

That was the very company with the bull-and-wheel emblem they’d just been talking about. Elliott, the one responsible, frowned suspiciously. “A shipment of supplies?” he asked. “This is considerably earlier than expected. They deal in fireworks and explosives, which would grow damp if they brought them too soon… All right. I’ll head over now.”

As Elliott moved to exit the room, Cyril called out for him to wait. “The rules say that when outside contractors are doing work on academy grounds, they must be greeted by one faculty member or two student council officers. I’ll come with you.”

“You have a meeting with the club presidents after this, don’t you?” said Elliott. “And Lady Bridget is busy writing invitations for the festival.” He looked over at Monica, the only one here without urgent business. “Lady Norton, you’re with me.”

“M-me?”

“You’ve never supervised outside contractors before, have you? This is a good chance to learn the process.”

Elliott’s suggestion made sense. But when Monica thought about her and Elliott working together—considering his constant open hostility toward her—her legs started to wobble. Plus, she’d just upset him during chess class.

Maybe he’s bringing me along to scold me…

But she couldn’t run away from him forever. Things were only going to get busier from now on as they prepared for the school festival. She took a short, deep breath, then turned to look at Elliott.

“I—I understand. I’ll, um, come along with you.”

“Great. Thanks, Lady Norton.”

As Elliott looked down at her, his expression wasn’t simple distaste but a complicated mix of emotions.

Cyril’s eyes unconsciously followed Elliott and Monica as they left the student council room.

…Will they be all right? he wondered.

Elliott hated people he considered “upstarts” and could be extremely aggressive toward them. Cyril himself was no exception, having originally been a commoner before his adoption by Marquess Highown. Elliott still sent prickly remarks his way, but his hostility had been much more blatant back when Cyril first enrolled at the academy.

“Don’t get cocky, commoner,” he’d said. “I hate people like you—people who don’t know their place—to death.”

Cyril preferred to judge people on their merits, but Elliott held social class above all else. Obviously, someone so fixated on class wouldn’t think highly of Monica, who had clearly been raised a commoner.

As Cyril nervously glanced toward the hallway, Bridget, who was still writing invitations, stopped her work and remarked coldly, “You’re so overprotective.”

He glared at her, his lips bent into a frown. “Should Accountant Norton embarrass us in front of outsiders, it could affect Serendia Academy’s reputation. It’s only natural I’d be concerned.”

“Let’s leave it at that, then, shall we?” answered the beautiful girl—one of the three most beautiful in the academy—without so much as a smile.

Then, she looked at the paper still in Cyril’s hand. On it was his drawing of the Abbott Company’s emblem—the one Elliott had castigated. Bridget eyed it with suspicion. “By the way,” she said, “what is that child’s doodle? Some sort of code?”

“………Forget about it.”

Elliott looked away from Monica and fixed his gaze ahead, a sour expression on his face. He was walking with long strides. She kept glancing at him, obviously frightened. She probably thought he was going to say something unkind.

Ah, for the love of…, he thought to himself. I managed to bring her out, but what am I supposed to say?

Earlier, in chess class, he had played against Monica and won—but only by using castling, a move he hadn’t taught her. This country girl who didn’t even know the game had overwhelmed him, and he’d gotten worked up over it.

What he’d done wasn’t fair. It was shameful behavior for a noble, one who was supposed to lead others. Still, the thought of simply apologizing annoyed him. Irritated and unable to think of anything to say, he opened his mouth and closed it, then opened it and closed it again.

In the meantime, the two of them exited the school building and came within sight of the cart. It was stopped in front of the west storehouse, where it would unload. That meant its documents must have already been checked at the front gate.

Elliott had the key to the storehouse, so all that was left was to check the materials and unload them.

Once they started working, Elliott would lose his chance to talk to Monica. Realizing this, he made up his mind.

“Oh, Lady Norton, about the chess match earlier…,” he said, glancing at her.

Monica had stopped in her tracks and seemed to be staring at something. All expression had vanished from her face.

“…It’s different,” she said.

“What?”

Monica pointed to the emblem on the side of the cart and said quietly, “That seal isn’t the same as I remember.”

Elliott frowned and observed the cart’s emblem. A large wheel and a bull. It looked exactly the same as the picture Monica had drawn earlier. “What’s different?”

“The wheel should have twelve spokes. But the wheel in the cart’s emblem only has ten.”

“Are you sure you’re not misremembering?” he asked dubiously.

Then Monica—her tone unusually firm—said with certainty, “Yes, I’m sure. Once I see a design, I never forget it.”

Whether it was reviewing accounting books or playing chess…when she became absorbed in something, Monica Norton took on an almost scarily impassive expression. It was as if she had cut away everything aside from her object of interest. The rest of the world was invisible to her. Now she wasn’t even sparing him a glance—she was simply staring at the emblem.

Elliott gulped, then took a closer look at the Abbott Company cart.

It was your usual covered wagon, drawn by two horses. One person sat behind the horses and another stood beside them. Both were middle-aged men, dressed like typical merchants ready to do business with a high-end customer. Elliott couldn’t see anything suspicious about them.

Monica must be mistaken, he thought. Still… This delivery is more than a week ahead of schedule.

As he was trying to decide what call to make, Monica whispered to him, “There’s one more thing.”

“Is there?”

“The bull—it looks very similar, but…they forgot to draw the tail.”

With that, Elliott made his decision. “Yes, that is strange. A first-rate contractor selling to Serendia Academy would never make as silly a mistake as Cyril.”

If those men were lying about who they were, they might be here to steal something or kidnap someone… Either way, they were up to no good.

The man in front of the cart noticed Elliott and came over to him. The driver, however, kept his hands on the reins. Any merchant with manners would tie up the horses somewhere, get down, and greet his business client.

…And he isn’t doing that—probably so he can make a break for it if he needs to.

Keeping his eyes on the men, he whispered to Monica, “Lady Norton, I’ll stall for time by talking to them. You go call security.”

At his suggestion, expression flooded back into Monica’s face. Uncertain, she looked up at Elliott, frowning. “Um, but then you’ll be in danger…sir.”

Elliott snorted in amusement. He wasn’t particularly talented at swordsmanship or hand-to-hand combat, and he couldn’t use magecraft. Nonetheless, he should be the one to stay, not Monica.

After all…

“I’m a noble, remember? We have a duty to protect the common folk. Unlike you, I have obligations.”

Elliott Howard was a man who held fast to notions of social status. He believed everyone should carry out the roles assigned to them at birth—nobles should act like nobles, commoners like commoners.

A noble must serve as a model to the people and contribute to society. They must provide assistance to the powerless citizens and protect them.

For that reason, he had to remain here while Monica fled—to fulfill his duty and protect his pride as a noble.

The man pretending to be with the Abbott Company was now close enough to hear them—and the false smile vanished from his face. He’d probably noticed the change in Elliott’s and Monica’s expressions.

“Go now, Lady Norton!”

He pushed her to the side just as the man rushed at him. A knife gleamed silver in the man’s hand.

The area around the storehouse was deserted. If Elliott was attacked here, he didn’t stand a chance.

So, this is it… he thought, clicking his tongue.

But just then, he heard the horses neigh.

The moment one of the men pulled a knife, they became nothing but enemies in Monica’s mind. Whatever the intruders’ aim, as long as it was possible they might assassinate the second prince, his bodyguard couldn’t afford to overlook it.

The issue was how to neutralize them. With Elliott next to her, her options were limited. If she used a low-power shock spell to disable them, they’d suddenly pass out, which would be too unnatural.

Staggering from Elliott’s shove, her eyes fell on the horses attached to the cart.

…Sorry, she apologized in her heart. Without chanting, she delivered an extremely weak electric shock to the two horses’ rear ends.

Surprised by the pain, the horses became agitated, standing up on their hind legs and neighing.

“Wh-what on—?!” exclaimed the driver, frantically grasping at the reins—an action that just excited the horses even more.

Suddenly, they shot off at a breakneck speed. The driver lost his balance and fell from his seat with a shriek. Then Monica used a shock spell on the man who had fallen and knocked him out. That would make it seem like the fall had been what rendered him unconscious.

…One down.

The out-of-control cart hurtled toward the man with the knife. He screamed, dropped his weapon, and rolled onto the ground to avoid the cart.

As he rolled, Monica used her shock spell again to render him unconscious—so that it looked like he was hit by the cart and knocked out.

It was an extremely inconspicuous, yet terrifyingly advanced, way to fight. She was timing her magecraft to hit exactly when her targets were hidden behind the horses’ bodies, out of Elliott’s line of sight. All this was made possible only by her quick-to-activate unchanted spells.

Now she just had to calm the horses down—

“Lady Norton, get back!”

“Pyaaaah?!” yelped Monica, jumping backward at Elliott’s warning. The horses’ legs just barely grazed her. A moment later, the cart’s wheels clattered right past her nose.

“Eee, eeep…,” she shrieked, falling to the ground. Froth filled the horses’ mouths—they’d completely lost it. She must have given them too intense a shock.

Elliott clicked his tongue bitterly. “Damn. I guess that saved us, but… Why did those horses suddenly go crazy?!”

It’s my fault! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorryyyyyy!

Just as the pair felt out of danger, the horses followed the fence into a turn, swinging around back the way they’d come.

“Up the tree! Come on!” Elliot shouted.

“O-okaaaaay!”

Elliott began skillfully climbing a nearby tree…but Monica, who had zero motor skills, got just one step up before sliding back down the trunk. As she kept trying, the clattering of the cart grew closer.

“Lady Norton, hurry up! Grab on!” shouted Elliott desperately, reaching his hand down from the tree.

Monica frantically reached up—but by removing her hand from the tree in her already unsteady position, she lost her balance and toppled backward.

“Oof!”

When she hit the ground, she saw it—the out-of-control cart, right before her eyes.

If I use a defensive barrier, it’ll be too obvious… Should I create a gust of wind? No, I would need more than a little wind to stop the horses… The shock spell again? It would be unnatural if I made it strong enough to knock them out, and a weaker jolt would probably just make things worse… Ahhhh. Her eyes were spinning, and she was unable to collect her thoughts.

Just then, she felt someone tug at her arm.

“This way!”

A girl’s white-gloved hand had grabbed her own. With a strength unusual for a maiden of Serendia Academy, the girl pulled Monica in.

Monica’s small body was wrapped up in the arms of her savior. “Eep…”

“Phew. That was a close call.”

The one who had reeled her in and held her was a tall female student. Her light-brown hair was tied in the back, and she seemed full of energy. Judging by the ribbon at her collar, she was a second-year student like Monica. But her face wasn’t familiar, so she must have been from another class.

“Th-thank, thank, thank—”

“You can thank me later! Step away for a minute!” said the tall girl, rolling up her skirt hem and confronting the runaway cart that was once again heading right for them.

“W-watch out! It’s dangerous!” cried Monica.

“What are you doing?!” Elliott shouted to the girl. “Get out of there!”

Despite their warnings, the girl stared straight at the cart without moving.

As it charged her, she dodged it by a hairbreadth, grabbed the flailing reins, and jumped. Her white skirt fluttered out, then came to a stop in the driver’s seat.

“You’re fine now,” she said soothingly, pulling on the left and right reins in turn. “See? Calm down. Come on, come on.”

She never once scolded the horses or yanked on the reins. As she firmly repeated, “Come on, come on,” they gradually slowed and calmed down.

“Good boys,” said the girl, pulling on the reins again to bring the horses to a halt.

Elliott climbed down from the tree and looked at her, eyes wide. “That was amazing…”

Not everyone could jump onto a runaway cart and soothe both of the horses. But the girl simply stroked their manes without boasting. “It’s a good thing these two were trained to respond to voices,” she said.

“I’m sorry to ask this,” said Elliott, “but could you keep the horses calm? The two people on the ground are intruders pretending to be with a contractor.”

“Intruders?! Yes, very well. I understand.” Though she was surprised by the instruction, she nodded without argument.

Elliott removed the key to the west storehouse from his pocket, opened the door, and threw the two unconscious men inside. Then he closed the door again and locked it.

“Good. That should keep them out of trouble. Lady Norton, wait here. I’ll go call security and the faculty.”

Leaving them with clear instructions, Elliott hurried off toward the front gate. He probably figured he’d be faster than Monica, who was slow and bad at explaining things.

After watching him go, Monica looked up at their savior, who was sitting in the driver’s seat, and bowed her head in thanks. “Um, thank you f-for, um, helping us.”

“Don’t mention it. When someone’s in trouble, you have to help them out! You two ran into these intruders, right? That must have been rough.” The girl watched Monica with friendly concern, still holding the reins. Her attitude was unaffected and straightforward. She didn’t fit the image of a noble young lady from Serendia Academy, but she seemed nice.

“I’m Casey Grove, a second-year. What’s your name?”

“I, well, um…I, Monica Norton!” Monica misspoke, and her face immediately went red.

But Casey showed no sign of mocking her. “Monica Norton! So you’re the transfer student I’ve heard so much about.”

Sh-she’s heard about me?! …I guess I’m the subject of gossip now… Monica’s face darkened, knowing the rumors couldn’t have been anything good.

Casey beckoned for Monica to come up to the driver’s seat. “Hey, want to ride up here? It feels really nice.”

“Huh? W-w-w-w-wait, no, I, I couldn’t…”

“It’s easier than riding a horse the normal way. Come on!” said Casey, reaching a hand out toward Monica.

Unable to refuse, Monica nervously stretched out her own hand.

Casey took it and gave it a firm tug. With ease, she pulled Monica up next to her. Monica wondered if she was even stronger than Elliott.

Unused to sitting up front like this, Monica fidgeted as she took a seat and looked ahead.

“W-wow…”

For someone as short as Monica, the world looked positively fresh when viewed from up here. Her eyes sparkled in fascination.

Casey, stroking the horses’ manes, gave a toothy grin. “The other girls in my class give me weird looks when I say this, but my favorite spot in a cart is the front seat. The wind feels nice, and it’s closest to the horses.”

She looked at one of the horses as she patted his mane—her gaze was extremely gentle. A sidelong glance at her expression was all Monica needed to tell how much the other girl loved horses.

“Want to try petting one? If you do it right here, it makes them really happy.”

“O-okay.”

As instructed, Monica stroked the horse’s mane. Nero’s smooth fur was always pleasant to the touch, and while the horse’s firm, glossy mane was different, it had its own charm.

I’m sorry for hurting you before…, she said in her heart before looking over at Casey in the next seat. “Um, Lady Grove, you, um…sure do like horses, don’t you?”

“No need for all those stiff titles. Just call me Casey. Can I call you Monica?” Monica nodded, and Casey thanked her and went back to stroking the horse’s mane. “Um… Oh, right. Horses. I love horses, and I love riding them. Back home, everyone rides horses, both men and women. I help transport livestock via cart, too. You know, like ‘Old Man Sam’s Pigs’…”

Casey paused, startled, and covered her mouth before laughing in embarrassment. “Wait, sorry,” she apologized. “You probably don’t know what that is. You see, it’s a children’s song we sing back home when we move our livestock, and—”

“I know ‘Old Man Sam’s Pigs’!” exclaimed Monica in a louder voice than normal, unconsciously leaning forward. “It’s a song about a beautiful, wonderful sequence of numbers…”

Casey blinked a few times, then smiled with her eyes. “I’m surprised anyone else at Serendia Academy knows that song… I’m a country noble, so I don’t have much to talk about with the girls here. Not many noble young ladies help move livestock, so…”

She was right—this was Monica’s first time seeing a noble young lady who could ride a horse or help move livestock… Though she did know of a wonderful girl who was more than happy to play the part of a villainess.

Casey seemed embarrassed about it, but now that they had a shared topic of interest—“Old Man Sam’s Pigs,” that is—Monica suddenly felt much closer to her. “You can do, um, all sorts of things, can’t you, Casey?”

“Actually, I can hunt, too. With a crossbow.”

“That’s amazing,” breathed Monica. She was hopeless when it came to motor skills, so just being able to ride a horse was more than worthy of respect. And she can hunt, too! Monica thought to herself, forgetting the twenty-plus dragons she’d killed in the last several months and looking up at Casey in admiration. “You’re pretty amazing, Casey.”

“Ah-ha-ha. Thanks. I actually wanted to pick horseback riding as one of my elective classes. What about you?”

“Um, I haven’t really decided yet…”

“Then why not take horseback riding with me? It’ll be a lot of fun.”

Monica’s eyes widened. She’d never dreamed anyone would recommend that she, someone so obviously clumsy, try riding a horse. “I—I have really, really bad motor skills…”

It was precisely because her physical abilities and sense of balance were both abysmal that she couldn’t use flight magecraft—even though she understood the logic behind its magical formula perfectly.

But Casey paid her no mind, saying, “The teacher said that all students will be taught according to their skill level, and that beginners are more than welcome. And that’s not all! If you act now, you’ll get me, Casey Grove, as an extra teacher! …Well, only if you want, ha-ha.” She stuck her tongue out jokingly as Monica looked on, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Etiquette teachers would probably scowl at the other girl’s behavior, but it was very charming.

“Ah-ha-ha. Sorry about that,” she said. “Did I come on too strong? There are so few girls in horseback riding that I just thought it’d be nice if you joined us. Got a little ahead of myself.”

“U-ummm…” Monica had never once considered trying to ride a horse. She hadn’t even seen it as an option. But for someone who couldn’t use flight magecraft, there might be benefits to learning horseback riding. And most importantly…

…I want to try new things.

When she’d heard the rules of chess in that elective class, she’d thought, How simple. But after actually playing, she’d realized it was anything but—instead, she’d found it full of surprises and excitement.

There was a whole world out there she’d never know about unless she took that first step.

“Could even…someone like me learn to ride a horse?” asked Monica hesitantly.

Casey grinned and slapped a hand to her chest. “Just leave it to your new teacher, Miss Casey!”

After that, the two of them had a pleasant conversation until security and the faculty arrived on the scene.

Monica usually had a hard time interacting with new people, but she found it easy to talk to Casey. The way she spoke—energetically and without a hint of nastiness—was pleasant to listen to. And even when Monica tripped up on her words, instead of getting mad, she’d just wait for her to finish. She even made sure to bring up topics Monica found easy to talk about.

“Come to think of it, you said something about a sequence of numbers earlier when I mentioned ‘Old Man Sam’s Pigs’…”

“Yes! Exactly! The sequence is famous for how the ratio between every two numbers comes infinitely close to the golden ratio…”

“Oh, I’d never heard that before.”

“Also, it’s a lot of fun to prove the cyclic nature of the sequence’s remainders…!”

“Monica, you’re the kind of person who can’t stop once you start talking about something you like, huh?”

“Eek! I-I’m sorry! I’m really sorry…”

“No, I’m not mad at you. You’re pretty smart.”

Their conversation was nothing more than idle chitchat.

But for the socially inept Monica, her time spent talking with Casey that day was not just fun, but precious.

That night, in her attic room in the girls’ dormitory, Monica filled out the documentation for her electives. Students were allowed to choose two. She wrote her name more neatly than usual on the chess and horseback-riding applications, then breathed a sigh of accomplishment.

As she gazed at the completed documents in satisfaction, Nero, who had been curled up on her bed, asked, “So were those intruders today assassins after the prince?”

“No, it was apparently an attempted theft. Serendia Academy spends a whole lot of money on its furnishings.”

“And those dim-witted thieves managed to disguise themselves as merchants and infiltrate, only to suddenly lose control of their horses for no apparent reason, before being thrown to the ground, losing consciousness, and getting arrested by school security, huh?” Nero scratched his head with his hind leg, then looked up at Monica and grinned teasingly. “Still, I gotta say—your panicked face was quite the sight. Have you never climbed a tree before?”

“I-if you were watching, then why didn’t you help…?”

“Hey, I couldn’t have done anything in that situation. Not with the droopy-eyed guy and the tail-hair girl there.”

The “droopy-eyed guy” probably referred to Elliott, while the “tail-hair girl” most likely referred to Casey. Nero never put in the effort to remember people’s names.

“At any rate,” continued the cat, “this whole set up is turning out to be pretty inconvenient. I can’t give you much support while you’re inside the school building.”

Normally, Nero would take walks in the academy’s gardens and across its roof while in his black cat form, keeping an eye on Felix’s surroundings. But as a cat, he couldn’t enter the school building, so he wouldn’t be able to help at all if something was to happen inside.

Swishing his tail, Nero seemed to lose himself in thought for a few moments. Eventually, he appeared to have come up with something and hopped down from the bed. “I just had a great idea! If I can’t be a cat, I should just be a person!”

“But don’t you always wear that one robe when you change into human form?” Whenever Nero took on the appearance of a human, he would wear an old-fashioned robe. It would’ve stood out even in town, and it would be still more conspicuous at Serendia Academy.

Nero chuckled confidently, the sound of a meow audible in his laugh. “Sure, I usually go for the robe. But if I try a little harder, I can do other clothes. Check this out!”

Black fog enshrouded Nero, then expanded into the shape of an adult man. Up until then, his transformation wasn’t any different from before. This time, however, the fog remained for a few more seconds. He seemed to be having trouble.

Eventually, the fog began to clear, draining away from the very top of his head like ink washed away by water. Out from it emerged a black-haired young man, but instead of his old-fashioned robe, he now wore the mostly white uniform of Serendia Academy.

…Except it was a girl’s uniform.

The hairy male legs extending from the fluttery white skirt were a lot to take in.

“…Nero?”

“Ack, did I mess up?! Drat! The impression of your uniform is just too strong in my mind… Guess I’ll have to strip some random male student and steal his clothes for observation.”

“You can’t do that. Please don’t do that, okay?” said Monica with uncharacteristic firmness.

Nero clicked his tongue in annoyance and frowned.

Within seconds, however, he pounded his palm with his fist as though he’d just thought of something else. He looked down at her. “Hey, Monica. I just had an idea. That, uh, that guy who forced you to do this job… You know. Your colleague? Er, Loui-Loui Lounpappa!”

“It’s Mr. Louis, okay? Please remember it.”

“Why couldn’t he have just dressed up like a girl to infiltrate the academy? After all, his hair is pretty long, and he’s got a feminine face. I doubt he’d get caught—”

Despite her certainty that neither Louis nor Ryn was present, Monica nevertheless paled and covered Nero’s mouth with a hand.

“Wh-what are you doing?!”

“Shhh! You absolutely cannot say that out loud!”

Monica’s colleague, the Barrier Mage Louis Miller, had long, braided chestnut hair and beautifully feminine facial features. However, he hated when people teased him for looking like a woman. To counter this, everyone said he should just cut his hair short and be done with it, but he stubbornly insisted on growing it out. To Monica, the sheer length of his braid seemed to be a testament to his spite.

“Look, Nero, Mr. Louis is really self-conscious about his looks… The last person who said he looked like a woman, well……they……”

She couldn’t even finish the sentence; the only sound that came out was the chattering of her teeth.

Even Nero’s face stiffened at her strange behavior. “Whoa, what happened to them? Finish your sentence. I’ve gotta know!”

“………”

“Please finish your sentence, or I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight!”

Ignoring the cries of her familiar (who was currently an adult man wearing a skirt), Monica buried herself under the covers.

The multitudinous deeds of extreme evil committed by the Barrier Mage Louis Miller were a little too hair-raising for Monica to say out loud.