Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 6 - Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

The Kidnapping of Monica Norton

Byron Garrett, the president of Serendia Academy’s magic-battle club, dashed through the woods that served as the club’s training grounds.

In a magic battle, only magecraft-based attacks were effective—a special barrier ensured it. Because of that, the enemy’s strikes couldn’t hurt you. But you could still feel pain, and more importantly, you lost an amount of mana proportional to the damage you took.

As you might expect of the club’s president, Byron was one of the best combatants in the school. Right now, however, he was almost out of mana.

What’s going on? What are these attacks?

Near Byron, other members of the club were going down one after another. The strikes were coming at an unbelievable pace, and the attacker wasn’t even in their club.

He was a new student who had suddenly barged in after classes and challenged them to a magic battle.

“Hmm, hm, hm. Hmm, hmm…”

The new student hummed a tune and waggled his finger. Flaming arrows rained down on Byron. They were coming incredibly fast.

How is this happening?!

Magecraft required chanting. But this guy couldn’t be chanting—he was humming!

It’s almost like…

Only one person in the world was able to use magecraft without chanting. And that person was one of the Seven Sages.

“The Silent Witch?” said Byron in spite of himself.

The new student tossed his head back and began to cackle.

He’s vulnerable! Byron quick-chanted a flame spell. But the moment the fireball appeared in his hands, more fiery arrows zoomed at him from behind his opponent.

Ugh, again! He didn’t chant!

Byron began chanting the spell for a defensive barrier to block the arrows, but he didn’t make it in time. They plunged into his arm and shoulder. While they wouldn’t leave a mark, they still hurt like hell. It felt like they were gouging out his flesh and then broiling it. Meanwhile, his mana reserves plummeted. Then he collapsed to the ground.

The new student sighed. “That wasn’t very exciting,” he said. “I expected more from such a famous school. If this is the level of the students here, it’s pathetic. Minerva’s was way better.”

Those words lit a wrathful flame in Byron’s heart. He felt humiliated. He could admit he’d been powerless against the new student, but he couldn’t stand by while the boy insulted his school.

“Listen, new kid! Don’t underestimate Serendia Academy…” He clawed at the ground, barely holding on to consciousness. He was lying facedown, and dirt got in his mouth as he spoke. Not that he cared. “There are…students here that are better than me…”

Like Cyril Ashley, who used ice magecraft, and Glenn Dudley. The latter’s abilities were still unknown, but he was a Sage’s apprentice.

I’m sure this guy wouldn’t stand a chance…against them…

The new student looked down at Byron. “Are they monsters?” he asked coldly.

“…What?”

“I’m asking if they’ve got a screw loose. If they’re cold, merciless, and arrogant. You know, monsters.”

What was he talking about? “Sounds like…you’re the monster here…”

“Oh, right, I get it. None of you have ever seen a real monster, huh?”

As the new boy finished his sentence, a piercing voice cut through the woods.

“This is the student council! We received word of an out-of-control magic battle taking place in the training grounds! Disengage the barrier at once and suspend combat!”

This was Byron’s rival—Cyril Ashley. As Byron listened, his consciousness faded.

Monica had a hard time speaking. She was always stammering, barely able to get out her thoughts. But the words she was about to say were important and the last thing she wanted to stumble over. She’d been practicing them in secret for a few days now.

She tensed her core, then opened her mouth.

“Lana… Happy birthday!”

As her friend breathed heavily from nerves and excitement, Lana broke into a smile and said, “Thank you.”

About two weeks after classes began came the fourth day of the fourth week of the month of Alteria—Lana Colette’s birthday. It just so happened there was no student council meeting that day, so Monica, Lana, and Claudia borrowed a private tea salon after school. Now they were having a tea party to celebrate.

Claudia had been the one to reserve the salon and prepare the tea and snacks. Monica had brought coffee brewed in her father’s pot—the coffee Lana had once said was delicious.

“And, um, here’s a present,” said Monica, taking a sachet out of her pocket and holding it out to her friend.

“Oh, thank you. A rose sachet? It’s so cute!”

“Heh-heh…”

The small bag was made of unbleached fabric, tied with a pink ribbon, and filled with rose petals.

Monica had asked the fifth Witch of Thorns to share some of his roses with her, and she’d used the petals for this sachet. Once Monica told him she wanted to make a present for her friend, Raul had been more than willing to help. “A homemade present for a friend! That’s so nice,” he’d said.

In other words, this sachet was very special—it was made with roses from the famous Roseburg family that would hold their scent for a very long time. Of course, Lana had no way of knowing that.

“It smells nice,” she said, smiling. “And thank you as well, Claudia. I never thought you, of all people, would set up a tea party.”

“How nice it would be if arranging it were all one had to do… Happy birthday.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you.”

Lana seemed to have grown accustomed to Claudia’s difficult personality. She simply thanked her for her efforts, then began drinking the coffee Monica had prepared. She’d added plenty of milk, of course.

“I really love your coffee, Monica,” said Lana. “I bet it would be really popular if you sold it at a coffeehouse.”

“Heh-heh. You, um, you think so?” said Monica.

“You remember I went to Southerndole during the break, right? Well, they import all sorts of different coffee beans, and yet it was still hard for me to find any I actually liked…”

Southerndole was a large port city located in the west of Ridill. Lana explained that she wanted to start up a business there after she graduated from Serendia, and that she’d gone during the break to conduct a preliminary inspection.

“Oh, yes,” said Lana. “I also attended a meeting of merchants there. It seems many traders have been packing up and moving to the Empire lately. The new emperor likes novelties, so he’s been lowering tariffs and giving merchants preferential treatment.”

“And our foreign affairs ministry is raising a stink because of the lower tariffs, aren’t they?” added Claudia.

“That’s right. The merchants at the meeting wanted to start up a new business venture in Southerndole to try and fight back. My father intends to invest in them as well.”

Monica couldn’t quite wrap her head around what Lana and Claudia were talking about. She sat, quietly sipping her coffee, until Lana cast a glance in her direction.

“So, Monica,” she said. “What are you thinking of doing after graduation?”

“…Huh?”

Monica’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected this question. She’d never considered such things. She was only at school to protect Felix. Once Felix graduated, her mission would be over, and Monica would go back to her life as one of the Seven Sages.

She smiled awkwardly at this stark reminder. “Um, I haven’t really…thought of anything yet.”

“Then why not help me with my work?”

“Huh?” said Monica, surprised.

Lana pursed her lips and began to twirl her hair with a finger. “Well, you’re good with numbers, right? I was thinking you could handle the accounting. And I’m, uh, not just saying that because we’re friends or anything,” she said quickly.

“…Indeed,” murmured Claudia. “Monica has experience as a Serendia Academy student council member. What’s more, she’s serving during the second prince’s term. That will win you a lot of trust with any noble clients.”

Apparently, being on the student council at Serendia carried more weight than Monica had thought. According to Claudia, many government officials and ministers working in the court had been student council members. Now Monica understood why so many students aspired to join the council.

“That’s right,” murmured Lana. “Former student council members are in very great demand. And it would be heartening to have Monica with me.”

Monica’s heart leaped at those last words. Lana was relying on her. Lana said it would be heartening to have Monica with her. Lana needed her.

…That makes me happy.

But as joy welled up within her, guilt stabbed at her heart. Monica would be leaving school in half a year. She wouldn’t even be able to graduate alongside Lana.

“Well, it’s over a year away,” Lana continued. “Give it some thought. If you need Count Kerbeck’s permission, I can help persuade him.”

Apparently, Lana had misinterpreted Monica’s grimace as concern about her family’s approval. Monica gave her a vague smile and a nod in response. But she knew she’d never be able to take her friend up on her offer.

As Monica was leaving the tea salon with Lana and Claudia after their humble birthday party, she heard shouting from down the hall. It was Cyril.

“Argh! Where did you go?! Present yourself at once and submit to questioning!”

Cyril was far enough away that even Monica, with her sharp eyes, could only make him out by the color of his hair. His voice, however, was so loud, it sounded like he was right next to her.

Upon hearing her elder brother’s apoplectic shouting, Claudia—with the languor of someone who had spent all her energy for the day—murmured, “I wonder when he’ll realize that voice of his is an institution of the school…”

“Come on, that’s going a little far,” Lana quietly chided her.

Claudia smiled, her eyes hollow. “Yes, you’re right. An institution can be positive… Allow me to correct myself. It’s a nuisance.”

Usually, when Cyril was shouting, he was scolding Glenn. This time, however, Glenn was nowhere in sight.

Has there been some kind of trouble? wondered Monica. If so, then maybe she ought to help out as a member of the student council.

“I’m going to go, um, check it out,” she said, excusing herself and heading toward Cyril. Elliott was with him, rubbing his arms in irritation against the chill coming off Cyril. When Elliott noticed Monica approaching, he raised his hand.

“Heya,” he said. “Time for work, little squirrel.”

“Um, has something happened?” she asked nervously.

Elliott nodded bitterly. “The new third-year kid went way overboard in a fight against the magic-battle club. Every single member is in the infirmary with mana deficiency.”

Monica gasped. The new third-year student. An out-of-control magic battle.

She could think of only one person who fit the bill.

“Um, that student…is his name…?”

“Huberd Dee. He transferred from Minerva’s Mage Training Institution.”

Monica just barely stopped herself from groaning in dismay. I knew it. He hasn’t changed at all!

Back when Monica was at Minerva’s, Huberd was always going overboard in magic battles. He’d been suspended several times for it.

As Monica paled, Cyril grunted, still giving off waves of rage and cold. “I was told he stubbornly continued to attack his opponents after they were already defeated—a malignant act of the highest degree. Absolutely intolerable.”

“By the time Cyril and I heard about it and ran to the grounds, Huberd was already gone,” explained Elliott. “And he hasn’t come back to the dorms, either, so it stands to reason he’s still in the school building.”

And now, Cyril and Elliott were searching for him so they could question him about his actions.

“Anyway, that’s the situation,” concluded Elliott. “Help us out, little squirrel.”

Oh, no. I knew this would happen.

As a member of the student council, Monica couldn’t refuse. But she absolutely couldn’t afford to run into Huberd, either.

“Then, um,” she stammered, “I’ll go look in, um, a different direction…”

“No, we should all move as a group for this,” asserted Cyril immediately.

Elliott nodded. “Yeah. You wouldn’t be able to do much by yourself even if you did find him.”

“…Aw…”

Monica fidgeted with her fingers, beginning to sweat. What should she do now? She couldn’t think of a good way out. At this point, her best options were to pray they didn’t find Huberd or run and hide as soon as they did.

Please, keep him away from us!

As she followed Cyril and Elliott, she covertly touched her left ear—the secret signal to let Isabelle and the servants of House Norton know she needed help.

Unfortunately, Isabelle was nowhere nearby. Perhaps one of her servants would notice, but it would be difficult for them to interfere while Monica was with the other student council members.

I’ll just…have to get through this on my own…

First, their group of three traveled in a big circle around the school building’s second story, where the tea salons were located, then they headed to the first floor. With each step she took down the stairs, Monica glanced in front of and behind her. Once they were at the bottom, Elliott spoke up, sounding irritated.

“You’re acting more suspicious than usual, little squirrel.”

“Hwah? Oh, umm, well, I…”

As she hemmed and hawed, Elliott smirked. “Hah. I bet it has to do with the new kid.”

“…?!”

Had he found out that she and Huberd knew each other? Monica panicked.

Then Elliott put on an understanding look. “I suppose Robert Winkel has been harassing you every day, begging you to play chess.”

Oh, that new student, I see… Thank goodness. He doesn’t know… Monica tried to calm her pounding heart.

Cyril looked down at her sternly. That face usually meant he was about to scold her. She prepared herself, but his voice was surprisingly calm. “Accountant Norton,” he said. “If Robert Winkel is bothering you in any way, call me immediately. I will deal with him appropriately.”

Those weren’t the words Monica had expected. She looked at him blankly.

Elliott looked at Cyril with a teasing smile. “You know what, Mr. Vice President? You’re a real worrywart.”

“If someone is making trouble for my underclassman, then it’s only natural to worry.”

He’s…worried about me…

Once, Monica’s image of an upperclassman had been none other than Huberd Dee. Huberd was selfish and cruel, the type to drag her kicking and screaming to the magic battle arena whenever he pleased. So having an upperclassman worry about her like this gave her a tingly feeling in her chest.

“Um, thank you, Lord Cyril,” she said with a quick bow.

Cyril sniffed as if to say no thanks were needed—that his concern was a matter of course. Monica smiled. That was very like Cyril.

And then her face stiffened.

“Hmmm, hm, hm, hm, hmmm.”

She heard faint humming from around the corner, toward the front entrance. She would never forget that sound. And it was coming toward them, fast. He was practically right on top of them.

I need to hide!

Monica glanced around, but there was nothing to conceal her. If only they’d been in a classroom. Then she could have used the desks or the curtains, at least!

The humming and the footsteps were rapidly approaching. There was no time left. Her wide eyes darted back and forth until they stopped on Cyril’s and Elliott’s backs. With her extraordinary math skills, she could tell at a glance which of them was bigger.

She swiftly ran behind Elliott and made herself as small as she possibly could.

Cyril scowled at the eerie humming, just as the source of the noise rounded the corner and came into view. He was a skinny boy with red hair, spiked up like it was on fire—just the one Cyril had been looking for.

“Huberd Dee!” he yelled, spraying chilly air everywhere.

Huberd stopped humming and came to a halt, then looked down at Cyril. Cyril could see how sloppy the boy’s uniform was. He wanted to say something about it, but told himself it would be better to start with the bigger issue.

He spoke carefully, his voice hard. “Huberd Dee, I heard you persistently harassed the members of the magic-battle club in a match earlier today. If you have anything to say in your defense, I’ll listen. Please come with us.”

Huberd observed Cyril closely, scanning him from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. His gaze was very rude.

As Cyril scowled, Huberd cocked his head to the side. “Hmmm, hm, hm, hm, hmmm? Wait, are you the one who let loose all this cold air?”

“Hrm. I apologize if I made you feel cold,” said Cyril, immediately clutching the broach at his collar.

Cyril had mana hyper-absorption syndrome, which meant he was always emitting his extra mana as cold air. He knew this caused the other students no end of discomfort during the winter, and he felt quite bad about it. He also knew this phenomenon got even worse the more riled up he was.

He took a breath to settle himself, intending to discuss things calmly. But suddenly, Huberd strode up to him and, with his ring-covered hand, tugged on the ribbon tie near Cyril’s neck.

Cyril’s calm immediately evaporated. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Made by Emanuel Darwin, the Gem Mage,” said Huberd. “A magical item that absorbs mana, then emits it… Hmm. And there’s another formula added in that subtly adjusts the effects based on how much mana you have in reserve. The protective formulae are beyond first-class. Someone did real good work on it.” Huberd’s eyes moved from the broach to Cyril. “You’ve got mana hyper-absorption syndrome, don’t you?”

Cyril didn’t much like having someone who wasn’t even a medical professional guess his condition so easily. The ailment was something he had a complex about.

As he scowled, Huberd grinned, his malice on full display. “Mana hyper-absorption only happens if you push your body past its limits. If you need help from a magical item, then your symptoms must be pretty severe. How far did you go, exactly? Hmm?”

“Release me this instant!” Cyril swatted the boy’s hand away from his ribbon tie.

Huberd bent his slim body and peered into Cyril’s face. “Good, very good. Mana hyper-absorption, eh? Hey, let’s you and me have a little magic battle.”

Before Cyril could reply, Elliott cut in. “Unfortunately, we didn’t come here to have a battle with you. I suggest you leave that for class time.”

“Hmm? Hmmmm?”

Huberd turned to look at Elliott—and the hem of a female student’s skirt poking out from behind him. His condescending eyes widened.

Please don’t let him find me please don’t let him find me please don’t let him find me!

As Monica hid behind Elliott, her head down and her body trembling, she saw a pair of shoes approach. They weren’t Cyril’s—which meant they must have been Huberd’s.

“Hm, hm, hmmm?”

She heard a hum as the shoes drew closer. She saw them stop in front of Elliott, only to quickly circle him.

He’s gonna find me!

Panicking, Monica burst out from behind Elliott. She had to hide somewhere. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a curtain. She wanted to wrap herself up in the fabric. And just as she was thinking this, what should her eyes fall upon but Cyril’s jacket.

It was her only way out. She went behind him, pulled up the hem of his tailcoat, and squeezed herself underneath.

Cyril raised his voice in shock. “What are you doing, Accountant Norton?!” He spun around and moved a few steps away. Monica, flailing, traveled with him, still buried under his jacket.

They moved around the hallway like that for a while, but eventually Cyril stopped.

While Monica was hiding under Cyril’s jacket, she failed to notice two things: first, how concerned Cyril looked as he watched her shaking, and second, that someone had come around behind them. And now, that someone’s arms were grabbing Monica around the torso and dragging her out from her hiding spot.

Monica paled as a certain someone’s voice echoed in her ears.

“Hmmm, hm, hm, hmmm… ‘Accountant Norton’?”

“Ah, wah… Ah, ahh…”

Monica, still being held up from behind, turned around. Her gaze met Huberd’s.

She could practically see the words in his eyes.

I’ve found you.

Huberd hoisted her onto his shoulder, then exited the building through the front entrance. This time, instead of his spirited humming, Monica heard a magecraft chant—one used for flight.

“Stop right there, Huberd Dee!” yelled Cyril, chasing after him.

Monica reached a trembling hand out to Cyril. But she was too late. Huberd’s flight spell activated, and he floated into the air, still carrying her.

Lord Cyril…!

She hadn’t even managed to cry for help.

Third Prince Albert Frau Roberia Ridill was standing on one foot in the covered corridor leading to the library building.

“Are you sure this will help me learn flight magecraft, Dudley?” he demanded, somewhat suspicious.

“Flying is all about balance!” said Glenn confidently. “First, I want you to practice going straight down the corridor using only one leg.”

Next to Albert was Patrick. He wasn’t planning to learn flight magecraft, but he was having a lot of fun hopping around on one foot anyway. “Lord Alberrrt, let’s have a raaace!”

“Argh! You’re on! Hah!”

The two boys began to hop down the corridor. But then, after only a few hops, Albert lost his balance and fell on his backside.

Patrick, who was a little bit ahead of him, turned around. He was still on one foot. “Lord Albert, are you okaaay?”

“Curses! Patrick, you’re not supposed to go ahead of your master!”

As Albert shouted, Patrick put on a puzzled expression and looked up toward the sky. “Huh?”

Had he spotted a rare bird or something? Albert picked himself up and started yelling again. “How dare you look away when your master is talking, Patrick!”

“That person’s using flight magecraft, too. Looook,” said Patrick, pointing.

He was right. Someone was soaring through the air. A male red-haired student in an untidy uniform, with a girl thrown over his shoulder. She was short and had light-brown hair—and Albert recognized her.

“Is that…Miss Norton?” he said.

Monica was flailing, trying desperately to escape the boy’s hold. Unfazed, the boy cut through the air above the covered corridor and flew into the woods.

Glenn scowled as a powerful anger crept into his voice.

“Why, you…!”

He quickly chanted a flight spell and launched off in pursuit.

In the student council room, Felix Arc Ridill scanned through a report in between clerical tasks. It was for an investigation he’d personally requested into the girl with the injured left hand.

The Silent Witch—Lady Everett—is here at Serendia Academy.

Even the second prince was struggling to account for every student’s whereabouts during the incident in Rehnberg. The investigation was going to take a lot more time. It was frustrating, but he could feel himself getting ever closer to his idol, and that brought joy to his heart.

Ah, I want to see her true face soon. I want to hear her voice. What should I talk about first when I meet her? I want her to tell me about the Alteria chimes she created for the New Year’s magecraft dedication, about what kind of formula she used to adjust the ice’s strength and move them all individually. And her curse-resistant barrier, the one she used during our confrontation with the cursed dragon—that was spectacular, too. She must be a true genius to come up with a spell like that so quickly. I want to ask her about the basic arrangement of the barrier’s elements…

A lonely sigh escaped him as he flipped through the report. Essentially, it stated that there had been no further progress.

Just then, the door to the council room burst open and Elliott Howard rushed in.

“Hi, Elliott,” said Felix calmly. “What’s the matter?”

Elliott clawed madly at his olive-brown hair and muttered, “It’s an emergency.”

Felix wasn’t especially perturbed by this. After all, his meeting with the Silent Witch was close at hand. In the face of such bliss, all other problems seemed trivial.

Elliott’s face twisted with panic and pessimism as he addressed the confident prince. “The new guy kidnapped the little squirrel,” he said.

Felix froze, his azure eyes widening.

Huberd arrived in the section of Serendia’s woods used for practical magecraft classes, still carrying Monica. When they touched down, he let her off his shoulder but didn’t release her. From behind her, he reached around and grabbed her jaw with his left hand, then squeezed her cheek with his right.

“Heeey. Been a while, Everett.”

Monica made little whimpering noises in her throat.

Huberd was one of the reasons she’d shut herself away in Professor Rutherford’s laboratory during her time at Minerva’s. After all, whenever their eyes met, he’d drag her off to the magic battle training grounds whether she wanted to go or not.

I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared…

Ah, but she couldn’t keep quiet. She had to tell him she was on a top secret mission and ask him not to get in her way.

Mustering up every last ounce of her courage, she managed to squeeze out a few words. “R-right now, I’m, um, Monica Norton. I’m on an important mission, and I’m…in disguise. S-so please, don’t, don’t call me Everett.”

Huberd fell silent and appeared to think for a moment, though his hand on Monica’s jaw stayed firmly in place.

Eventually, he spoke, addressing a point above her head, as if talking to himself. “Hm-hm-hmm… If my uncle had known you were at Serendia Academy on a mission, he’d have warned me not to cause you any problems…”

Though they didn’t look much alike, Huberd’s uncle was Bradford Firestone, the Artillery Mage—one of the Seven Sages like Monica.

“If he doesn’t know, that means it’s a political matter being kept secret even from the other Sages… Come to think of it, the second and third princes are both here, too, aren’t they? …Hmm. That means you’re probably either protecting one of them, or investigating one of them, right?”

Huberd looked and acted like a ruffian, but he was extremely sharp. He could understand the whole picture from only a few fragments. It seemed he hadn’t changed since Monica’s time at Minerva’s.

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t t-tell anyone about me…”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll keep quiet for you. Won’t tell a soul.”

In her despair, Monica spotted a ray of hope.

Ahh, she thought. Back then, he wouldn’t listen to anyone. Maybe he’s softened up a little after all this time.

She didn’t notice him licking his lips just over her head.

“That said,” he continued, “if we’re going to make a deal, there’s gotta be something in it for me, too, right?”

“…Huh?”

The fingers around her jaw tightened. She froze; she had a bad feeling about this. A cold northerly wind blew past her feet—no, wait. That wasn’t the wind.

“Release my underclassman at once.”

The voice was familiar, but instead of its usual clear, sonorous quality, it was now low and thick with rage. Cyril approached them, spreading a chill colder than the north wind, his feet crunching over frost. His eyes seemed to glare with a blue light.

Huberd hummed, sounding delighted. “Hmmm, hm, hm, hm… And what if I say no?”

Cyril quick-chanted as he swung out his right hand. There was a loud, piercing noise, and a long chain of ice burst from the frost-covered ground. It bound Huberd, tying his wrists together.

At the same time, someone overhead yelled, “Monica! Over here!”

Glenn reached down from above and picked her up by the armpits, then carried her away from Huberd and touched down behind Cyril.

Huberd looked at the ice chain binding his hands and grinned. It was eerie how much fun he seemed to be having. Cyril and Glenn watched, their expressions grim.

Just then, footsteps sounded from behind them.

“Transfer student Huberd Dee.”

The voice wasn’t loud, but it carried. And it, too, was colder than usual.

Trembling, Monica turned to look. Felix Arc Ridill and Elliott Howard were approaching them.

Felix stopped, a chilly smile on his handsome face as he set his gaze on Huberd. “Kidnapping one of our council members isn’t very polite,” he said. “If you have anything to say in your defense, do so now.”

Huberd’s grin only grew wider. The ice chaining his hands together jingled.

“I’m a student here,” he said. “And just look at the terrible ordeal I’m going through. Aren’t you going to do anything, Student Council President?”

“What an odd thing to say,” said Felix. “We’ve merely restrained you.”

“This is hardly kidnapping,” Huberd continued. “I just wanted to have a nice little chat with a familiar face… Isn’t that right, Monica?”

Monica’s breath caught in her throat. If she insisted that Huberd had kidnapped and threatened her, Felix would deal with him appropriately. But then Huberd would probably expose her identity as revenge.

Determined not to speak carelessly, she stood silently until Huberd used a quick-chant. It was a fire arrow spell.

His flaming bolt destroyed the ice chains, and he spread his arms wide as the glittering shards scattered.

“All right. We’ll do things your way,” he said. “With a good, old-fashioned duel. A magic battle it is.” Huberd used a ringed finger to point at Cyril and Glenn in turn. “Come at me. As many as you like. If you can beat me, I’ll stop bothering Monica. But if I beat all of you, she’s mine. And I’ll make her quit the student council.”

Monica, tears welling in her eyes, shook. “N-no, I don’t w-want to quit the student council,” she whimpered.

“Then I’m sure you have no complaints, right, Monica? Hmmm? …You know you can’t refuse.”

Monica knew Huberd only wanted to fight them for the fun of it. He’d do anything to get his fix, whether it was provocation or threats—he wasn’t picky. Right now, he was threatening Monica to provoke Cyril and Glenn, and she had no way of stopping him. Not when he knew her weakness: her true identity.

“Fine by me!” Glenn was the first one to take the bait. “I’ll crush you!”

Without wasting a moment, Cyril spoke up, too. “Sir, please give us permission to duel.”

“Very well,” said the prince.

Only one person on the student council could fight in a magic battle. Felix set his gaze on Cyril, his voice colder than ever before.

“Student Council Vice President Cyril Ashley, this is an order. Win this duel. We cannot afford to lose our precious accountant.”

“As you command.”

And thus the duel was set, with Monica Norton as the stakes.

How…? How did it come to this…? Unable to flee into her world of numbers, she simply repeated this question over and over in her mind.

Behind her, Elliott sighed in annoyance. “They’re fighting over a little squirrel… This must be the most pointless duel in the world.”

I want my human rights back, thought Monica, from the bottom of her heart.