Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 6 - Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Duel and Hunt

“Magic battle this, magic battle that. You all speak of them so easily. It’s very difficult to set up and maintain the barrier for them, you know. And when the combatants have this much mana capacity, the barrier needs to be even stronger, or it will simply be too dangerous. What? You want people to be able to watch as well? Wait, wait. Do you have any idea how long that will take to set up? …I can call in help, but it’ll be three days. I wish you’d be a little more considerate toward an old man like me.”

At these words from Professor William Macragan, the duel over Monica Norton was set to take place in three days’ time.

And while she waited, Monica sank into a pit of depression. She was so exhausted, she could barely eat.

Despite Bernie’s warning, Huberd had still found her. And now he was dueling people over her. Plus, if Cyril and Glenn lost, Monica would have to leave the student council. She’d fall completely into Huberd’s clutches.

Monica knew precisely what fate awaited her if that happened. Huberd would force her to battle him at length, over and over, until he was satisfied.

Oh, how did it come to this? she wondered. If I’d just managed something… But what else could I have done in that situation?

And no matter how much she whined and sobbed, her usual conversation partner, Nero, was still asleep for the winter. Ryn hadn’t paid her attic room a visit in some time, either. Maybe she was busy.

This time, even Isabelle was unable to help. “I’m a failure of a collaborator… A failure of a villainess…,” she’d said. Now she was depressed, too, which only made Monica feel worse.

On the day of the duel, during afternoon break, Monica was once again sitting slumped over her desk with her head facedown. She didn’t even have the energy to go to the cafeteria.

She’d caused so much trouble for Cyril. She’d even gotten Glenn involved. Her whole mission was in jeopardy. Why did she always mess up like this?

As she sat, mentally reprimanding herself, she heard someone murmuring above her.

“You look like a dried fish, so black it’s about to be thrown out.”

“Lady Claudia…”

As Monica sluggishly looked up, Claudia grabbed her by the back of the neck and forced her to stand. When Monica began to wobble, Lana reached out and supported her from the side. Claudia took her other side, and the two of them practically dragged her out of the classroom.

When they got out into the hall, they headed not toward the cafeteria but away from it. Because it was lunchtime, there were very few people around.

“Lana? Lady Claudia?” asked Monica. “Where are we going?”

“The duel is after school today, isn’t it?” replied Claudia. “We can’t have the prize all shriveled up. You’d be a laughingstock.”

“Prize… Shriveled…”

“You at least need to hydrate.”

Claudia stopped in front of an empty classroom, opened the door, and tossed Monica inside. Though Monica was still wobbly, she managed to get her footing—and then her sunken eyes went wide.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Monica!”

Glenn waved to her energetically. Neil was next to him. They’d set up a rug on the empty classroom’s floor and covered it with snacks and drinks. It was like they were having a picnic.

Monica stood there, mouth agape.

Glenn beckoned to her. “Come on, over here!”

Lana prodded her in the back, and Monica quickly took a seat on the rug. “Um, what is…this…?”

“Heh-heh-heh. This is my special class-cutting spread!” said Glenn, looking very proud. He reached into a bag near the rug’s edge and pulled out some dried fruit and a card game.

Monica paled. She couldn’t just sit here and skip all her afternoon classes.

Then Neil, an honors student, said gently, “We have a blanket and a cushion, too, so you can rest if you’d like. It seems you haven’t slept lately, Miss Norton, so maybe you should nap until classes are over.”

“But I… I…,” she stammered.

Lana pushed a cup of hot tea into Monica’s hands. “Whatever has come over me?” she said, “For some reason, I really feel like skipping classes today!”

“Lana, um…”

“Please join me, Monica. You will, won’t you?”

A big tear rolled down Monica’s cheek and landed in her tea, making ripples. And once the tears started coming, they didn’t stop. Monica sat there, teacup in her hands, sniffling and sobbing. Her face was an utter mess.

“I’m, I’m sorry… I… It’s my fault… I’m causing…so much trouble…”

As she rubbed her eyes, Lana and Glenn clenched their fists.

“You’re such an idiot!” exclaimed Lana. “The only one causing trouble here is that transfer student! He’s the one who set up this stupid duel!”

“That’s right!” agreed Glenn. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Monica!”

Monica sniffled, then bowed to Glenn. “I’m, I’m sorry. It’s my fault that now…now you have to duel…”

“I mean it, don’t worry about that!” he assured her. “I was already planning on challenging him!” Glenn’s smile shone like the sun.

Claudia joined in with a thin smile of her own, quiet like the moon. “As the prize, you’re allowed to be shameless. Just throw out a line like, No, stop, don’t fight over me! and be done with it.”

“But they’re not fighting over me… They’re fighting because of me!” Monica burst into tears again.

Neil cut in, flustered. “L-Lady Claudia, you’re having the opposite effect! Um, Miss Norton, that’s just her way of cheering you up. She was the one who put all this together in the first place, so…”

“My, Neil,” said Claudia. “You’re truly the only one who understands me.”

Even now, Claudia was acting just as she always did. Lana shot her an exasperated glare from the side, then handed some food to Monica. It was a piece of thinly sliced bread wrapped around boiled, deboned meat and vegetables.

Glenn immediately chimed in. “I made that!”

He normally preferred thick cuts of meat, but he’d sliced everything here into small pieces to make it easier to eat, and had even boiled and deboned it all.

Monica thanked him and began nibbling the bread. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t had any real food since the day the duel was declared. The bread’s filling was held together with sauce made by simmering the vegetables. It was chunky but had a gentle flavor, bringing out the natural sweetness of the greens.

“This is really, really good… Heh-heh.”

Realizing now how hungry she was, Monica began chomping away at the bread. Then, all of a sudden, the door to the classroom flew open.

“Claudia! What is the meaning of this?!”

“You even brought food in? This seems like quite the party.”

The one shouting, eyebrows arched in anger, was Cyril. Next to him was Felix, a wry grin on his face.

Claudia elegantly took a sip of her black tea, then savored it for a long moment. It was only once she was done that she took notice of Cyril. “Oh, hello, Brother,” she said.

“What are you doing, having a tea party in an empty classroom?!” he demanded. “You should have requested a tea salon!”

“That wouldn’t count as cutting classes…”

“I can’t believe you’d talk about such behavior right in front of the prince!”

Claudia didn’t smile, but she brought her fan to her lips, as if to conceal one. “Oh? Then would you overlook it if we were more discreet?”

“…Argh!” Cyril clammed up.

Glenn immediately stepped forward and offered Cyril and Felix each a piece of bread covered with a thick spread of rillettes. Then he whispered to them like some dishonest merchant striking a back-alley deal. “Prez, VP… I hope this will convince you to stay quiet.”

“I refuse!” shouted Cyril.

Next to him, Felix reached out and took the piece of bread, then put it in his mouth.

Cyril turned to the prince, eyes wide with shock. “Sir! P-please, wait! I need to test it for poison!”

“That’s quite all right,” said Felix, gulping down the last bite and smiling mischievously. “And now that I’ve taken the bribe, I have no choice but to stay quiet.”

“…If you say so, sir.” Cyril backed down, disappointed.

“Oh, another thing,” said Felix. “Regarding the duel after school today. The first-year Robert Winkel has announced that he will be participating.”

“Huh?” said Monica.

Felix was talking about the boy who had transferred to Serendia just to play chess with her. The one who kept his sleeves rolled all the way up even in the middle of winter. Apparently, upon hearing about the duel, he’d gone all the way to the student council room to say he’d take part.

“N-now I… I’ve gotten yet another person involved…,” she stammered.

“There’s no need to worry,” said Felix. “He just wants you to join the chess club.” His voice was calm, intended to soothe her. But then he added icily, “I’ll turn him down, of course.”

According to the prince, Robert had come to him and said, “If I win, I’ll earn the right to play chess with Monica, right?” As always, he had chess and chess alone on the brain. But in this situation, his dedication was rather refreshing.

Everyone’s the same as always… Yes, exactly the same…

Behind that consistency, Monica realized, was the kindness and consideration of all the people around her. Not one of them had asked what had happened between her and Huberd, even though it must have been obvious to the sharper ones among them that the two of them were acquainted.

I’ve caused them so much trouble, and yet they’re all acting exactly the same as always.

Monica was dreadfully familiar with how the people around her could turn against her at a moment’s notice. When her father had been taken away by a government official, all of the neighbors who used to be so nice to them had changed instantly. They’d thrown stones at her father without hesitation.

When Monica learned unchanted magecraft, her classmates and teachers all began treating her differently, and Bernie grew distant.

So when Lana and the others stayed the same, it made Monica so happy, she could cry.

I have to… I have to tell them how I feel.

Monica clenched her fists and opened her mouth. “Thank… Thank you, everyone.”

Lana and Glenn smiled, as if assuring her she didn’t have to worry. Claudia remained impassive, and Neil offered her a wry grin.

Felix smiled gently, and Cyril looked at her with a complicated expression. She bowed to each of them and said, “Um, I’m, um, sorry about all the trouble I’ve caused. I… I don’t want to quit the student council.”

“And I don’t want to let go of an important student council member,” said Felix. “And you don’t, either, right, Cyril?”

“Naturally,” said Cyril with a nod, folding his arms haughtily. “In fact, we wouldn’t let you go even if you wanted to. I’m going to keep working you to the bone until we graduate. You had better be prepared.”

This line was very much like Cyril. Monica gave him a lopsided smile. “You’re just the same as always, Lord Cyril.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

He scowled at her, but right now, that only made her happier.

The duel was to be held in the woods on campus inside a special barrier, and it had been set up so that viewers could see the battle projected onto a white curtain hung in the student council room.

On a bench in front of the curtain sat all of the student council members except Cyril, who was participating. Lana sat next to Monica, and Claudia sat with Neil, snuggling against him. Originally, only council members were supposed to be present, but Felix had made an exception for these two out of consideration for Monica, who was still quite worn-out.

On another bench a little ways away were three more exceptions.

Elliott narrowed his droopy eyes and whispered to Felix. “Hey, I understand Miss Norton’s friends coming along, but what’s up with those three?”

“They must have caught wind of the duel somehow,” said Felix.

Felix’s younger brother Albert had flumped onto the bench and was now sitting with his arms folded. Next to him was his servant, Patrick.

“I’m Dudley’s friend, got it?! You heard me—his friend! And as his friend, it’s only natural to come cheer him on. Isn’t that right, Patrick?!”

“Lord Albert, pleeease don’t speak so loudly. You’re bothering everyone.”

As the two of them carried on energetically, Eliane Hyatt sat to one side, holding her fan to her mouth and fidgeting.

“I’ve come because Lord Glenn helped me during winter break,” she insisted. “It’s common courtesy to cheer him on like this. I assure you, I have no other reason to be here.”

Albert and Eliane, neither of whom had been invited, continued to enthusiastically make their excuses.

Meanwhile, Monica—the duel’s prize—was already at her limit, mentally and physically. She didn’t look one bit like a heroine watching men valiantly duel over her. Instead, she looked more like a prisoner who’d just been told she would hang, or a sickly girl on her deathbed.

At Lana and the others’ insistence, she’d skipped afternoon classes and taken a nap. If not for that, she wouldn’t have even made it to the council room. She felt nauseated.

As she clutched her stomach, William Macragan came in. The short, elderly fundamental magic teacher ambled across the room with his cane and set up a crystal ball in front of the white curtain. This was the magical item that would project the match so they could view it.

Huh? Monica watched him curiously.

It required at least two mages to maintain the barrier for magic battles, but Macragan had come alone. Was the other one in the woods?

Come to think of it, Mr. Macragan said he’d be calling in support for this… I wonder who he meant.

“There we go,” he said with a huff. “It’s about to begin, everyone.”

As Macragan chanted, the crystal ball glowed faintly, showing an image of the school’s forest. Under wintry skies covered in ash-gray clouds, three male students awaited the signal to begin the duel.

The first was Cyril Ashley. Nicknamed the Icy Scion, he was one of the strongest students at the academy. Then there was Glenn Dudley, apprentice to one of the Seven Sages. His popularity had skyrocketed after he played the hero Ralph in the school festival play. Finally, there was Robert Winkel, a transfer student from the Kingdom of Landor.

If any of these three could defeat Huberd, Monica would be free of him for good.

While the special barrier was active, physical attacks would be nullified, and only magecraft-based attacks would do any damage. Being hit wouldn’t injure the combatants, however—it would only drain their mana. That said, they could still feel pain from the attacks. And once a participant’s mana reserves fell below a certain level, they would be considered defeated.

The barrier contained a magecraft formula that safeguarded the participants’ physical bodies so they wouldn’t be hurt, but the idea that Cyril and the others might wind up in terrible pain horrified Monica.

“Monica,” said Lana, “this Dee guy—is he really that strong? He’s fighting three people at once.”

Monica struggled to think of a reply. How much could she tell them about Huberd? If she revealed the wrong things, they might realize that she’d attended Minerva’s.

“Um, I guess… I’m not really sure…,” she muttered.

“He’s the Artillery Mage’s nephew,” said Claudia drearily. “We must assume he’s skilled at fighting.”

Huberd’s uncle, Bradford Firestone, was considered the most powerful fighter among the Seven Sages. The only one who could properly defend against his attack spells was the Barrier Mage Louis Miller.

But Huberd’s fighting style was the inverse of the Artillery Mage’s; the latter packed everything into a single hit, while the former liked to draw things out.

Just looking at mana capacity, Lord Cyril and Glenn have a big advantage, but…

Everyone in the magic-battle club had lost to Huberd and collapsed from mana deficiency, leaving them unable to answer any questions about the fight. That made Monica very anxious.

After all, Huberd Dee’s true strength wasn’t magecraft—it was hunting.

Glenn, Cyril, and Robert all waited near the forest’s entrance for the starting bell to ring.

Huberd was already deep in the woods. Generally, one began a magic battle some distance away from one’s opponents. Otherwise, the winner would be whoever could finish chanting first—an entirely different kind of contest.

Glenn started with some light stretches and warm-up exercises. Being cursed had left his whole body racked with pain, but his symptoms had eased considerably in recent days. He was still a little numb, but compared to how he felt after training sessions with his master, this was nothing.

Once he’d confirmed he was in good condition, Glenn asked a question that had been on his mind. “We can’t use physical attacks inside the barrier, right?”

“You’re asking that now?” Cyril shot back. “Don’t you know the rules?!”

“Of course I do!” Glenn insisted quickly. “I’m talking about the other guy! You, there!”

Glenn pointed at Robert, who was clenching and unclenching his leather-gloved hands. A sword hung at his hip.

“Physical attacks are all nullified in magic battles,” said Glenn. “That sword won’t help you any.”

“I know that. It won’t be a problem,” replied Robert.

Glenn had only seen Robert briefly at the chess competition and didn’t know much else about him. All he’d heard was that the boy was a transfer student from the Kingdom of Landor and was in the same elective as Monica.

Robert was supposedly younger than Glenn, but he was around the same height and was considerably more muscular. He clearly trained regularly. Glenn was privately impressed.

Cyril glanced at Robert. “…Blademagic, then?”

“That’s correct.” Robert nodded and began to chant as he drew his sword. When he did, mana created a coating of water that covered the blade’s surface.

Blademagic was a technique even Glenn had heard of. It was used mostly by the knights of Landor, Ridill’s neighbor. Ridill had some blademagic users as well, but very few were first-rate. It was a difficult technique that required skill in both magecraft and swordplay.

Glenn watched curiously as Robert disengaged the spell and returned the sword to its sheath.

“I will say this up front,” said Robert. “I am participating in this duel to get Miss Monica to join the chess club. Therefore, I will be the one to defeat Huberd Dee. I shall not let either of you take that honor.”

Cyril’s slender eyebrows twitched, and he fixed Robert with a glare. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. Accountant Norton belongs to the student council. To give her to another club would be to go against the prince’s wishes.”

“We are fighting for rights to Miss Monica, are we not? Then I see no problem.”

“Now you’re bending the rules!” Cyril scowled. His forehead wrinkled, and he looked deeply displeased. A chilly air had already begun to manifest around him. “The prince assigned me the duty of taking down that transfer student. You two may stay here and twiddle your thumbs until I get back.”

“Whoa, hold your horses!” said Glenn with more force than usual. “I’d like to be the one to knock that guy’s lights out. Please let me do it! I… I have to beat him at any cost!”

“No, I shall be the one to defeat him,” insisted Robert.

“It will be me!”

“No, me!”

The three of them glared at each other for a few moments, but nobody seemed willing to back down. There was only one solution—they would all have to compete to see who could defeat Huberd Dee first.

The start of the battle was drawing near, and none of the combatants seemed ready to cooperate.

“There’s just one thing I want to ask before we start,” said Glenn.

“What a coincidence,” said Cyril. “I have a question, too.”

They both looked at Robert—more specifically, at his exposed arms.

“Why are your sleeves rolled up?” asked Glenn.

“It’s winter,” said Cyril. “Aren’t you cold?”

Robert flexed for the two boys, letting his muscles ripple. “I’m showing off my manliness.”

Cyril and Glenn decided to forget they’d asked.

Meanwhile, Huberd Dee was walking among the trees, humming to himself. His preparations for the hunt were already complete. Now he just had to wait for his prey to come to him.

His uncle, the Artillery Mage, could raise the power of a single attack to incredible heights. It was like an art form to him. But Huberd didn’t think the same way. To him, the most important thing was how much fun he could draw out of the hunt.

“Hm-hm-hmmm… I wonder how much these three will entertain me.”

Huberd leaned against the trunk of a nearby a tree and closed his eyes. For him, this magic battle wasn’t a duel—it was a hunt. The stronger his opponents, the better. In fact, he wished they were leagues more powerful than he was.

Because the stronger the prey, the greater the pleasure in hunting them.

The mana hyper-absorption guy’s spells are very precise. The flight magic user has an insane mana capacity. The other one had a sword, which probably means blademagic… Now, who to eliminate first?

As he licked his lips, he heard a bell ring in the distance. That was the signal to start.

Immediately, he triggered a detection formula and picked up someone moving at an incredibly high speed. Judging by how fast they were going, they must have been using flight magecraft.

Huberd pushed himself off the tree trunk and cracked his slender neck a few times. “The first to the slaughter… I’ll make a warning out of him.”

As the bell rang to start the battle, Glenn activated a flight spell and soared high above the trees.

He couldn’t use detection spells or location magecraft. The only spells at his disposal were the one he used to fly and the one that produced fireballs. He’d just have to search for Huberd with his eyes. Fortunately, the trees in the forest had shed their leaves for the winter, and Glenn spotted him right away.

The last time Huberd challenged him, Glenn had been forced to run away, wailing pathetically. He’d been driven into a corner and had lost control of his mana.

But I’m not the same guy I was back then!

Maintaining his flight magecraft, Glenn began to chant. He produced a large fireball, as big as the arm span of two adults. Then he flung it at Huberd below.

“Take this!”

The woods were protected by the barrier, so his spell wouldn’t set them on fire. He could attack with his full power without any fear.

As the fireball hit, there was a loud booming noise, and a whole lot of smoke was thrown into the air.

Don’t let your guard down, Glenn reminded himself.

Staying in the air, he immediately began chanting another spell. Keep attacking until your enemy stops breathing—that was something his master always said.

But before he could create his second fireball, a ray of light pierced through the smoke. A lightning arrow—probably an attack spell from Huberd. Glenn used flight magecraft to evade it.

I’m so glad I figured out how to keep two spells up at once! If he kept dodging attacks in the air while staying on the offensive, he’d have a chance—a thin ray of hope.

“Hm-hmmm. You’ll be first.”

Glenn gulped. The voice had come from behind him.

The enemy had used flight magic to circle around and come at him from the rear. The next moment, Huberd fired a lightning spear.

Glenn twisted, just barely avoiding a direct hit. But the shot glanced his right arm.

“Argh!” Glenn cried out in pain. His consciousness flickered, and his flight spell failed.

Physical attacks were nullified inside the barrier, but that only applied to attacks, not to accidents. If Glenn fell from a high place, he’d slam into the ground. In the worst case, he could even die.

But as he fell, a slope made of ice appeared directly below him. He slid down it and managed to land safely.

“Ugh! Don’t make me baby you!” shouted Cyril in frustration.

“Thanks, VP!”

“You’d better have a nice, long think about your reckless behavior!”

In the end, Cyril couldn’t abandon his underclassman. After the slope, he formed an ice wall around Glenn. The beautiful glass-like structure served as a solid shield, blocking Huberd’s lightning arrows as they rained down onto the ground.

“Looking up isn’t enough!” shouted Cyril. “You’ve got to keep an eye on your surroundings! He probably knows remote magecraft!”

At the mention of remote magecraft, Glenn realized how he’d been hit. Huberd used the smoke as cover to get behind Glenn, and while he was moving, he’d triggered his lightning arrow remotely to make it fire from the ground—all to fool Glenn into thinking he was still below him.

Remote magecraft was an advanced technique that allowed a mage to trigger a spell from some distance away. It was inaccurate and imprecise, making it unsuited for direct attacks. But it had other uses, such as the decoy tactic Huberd had just employed.

“Blast. The wall won’t hold up,” said Cyril. “Dudley, can you use any defensive barriers?!”

“I only know flight and flame magecraft!” Glenn called back.

“And you call yourself the Barrier Mage’s apprentice?! Argh! Just get behind a tree!”

“Got it, boss!”

As the wall of ice shattered, Glenn and Cyril dove behind a large tree trunk. When they peeked around it, they saw Huberd leisurely touch down. His confidence was infuriating.

They both launched attacks—Glenn shot fireballs, and Cyril, ice arrows. But it was to no avail—Huberd used flight magecraft to dodge the former and blocked the latter with a barrier.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Cyril whispered to Glenn. “Watch his movements closely. He blocks my attacks but always dodges yours.”

“Huh? Uh, and that means…?”

“It means he can’t block your fireballs with a defensive barrier. If one of them hits him, he’ll take damage for sure.”

Glenn’s flame magecraft was powerful but slow and imprecise. Cyril’s ice magecraft was precise and adaptable, but it wasn’t as powerful and could be blocked with a barrier.

Cyril understood this and instructed Glenn accordingly. “I’ll chase him down. You focus on hitting him. Do not miss.”

Cyril began to chant a spell. This one took longer than the last. Glenn watched him from behind, firming his resolve.

If I want to make sure my attack will hit him…

Huberd was hovering low to the ground, fiddling with his earring as though he had nothing better to do. “Not attacking?” he said with a smirk. “I can go first, if you want.”

Huberd used a quick-chant to produce more lightning arrows, then fired them at Glenn and Cyril.

Just then, Cyril finished his chant and shouted, “Freeze!”

A wall of ice materialized, blocking the lightning arrows—then continued to spread toward Huberd, who was still in the air.

“Now! Get him, Glenn Dudley!”

Glenn shot his fireball. It hurtled toward Huberd, who was trapped by the wall of ice. With Glenn’s firepower, he should be able to send both Huberd and the wall flying.

“Not good enough.”

Huberd dodged Glenn’s fireball by a hair, then shot into the sky. The ice wall couldn’t keep him from moving vertically. It looked like Glenn’s fireball would simply smash through the ice wall…but that wasn’t what happened.

Glenn’s lips curled into an indomitable smile. “You’re the one who’s not good enough.”

The fireball twisted to follow Huberd, as though it had a mind of its own.

For the first time, Huberd looked tense. “A tracking formula?! You can use those?!”

“Fresh out of the oven—just learned it!”

Huberd immediately quick-chanted a defensive barrier, but he couldn’t block the fireball entirely. It hit him head-on, and he began to flutter down to the ground like a bird missing a wing. Both Cyril and Glenn began chanting at the same time, meaning to finish him off then and there.

But before they could, someone burst out of the trees—it was Robert, who had been lying in wait the entire time.

“Your head is mine,” he said as he drew his blade. He must have already completed his chant, because the surface of his sword was coated in water.

Robert closed the distance between himself and his target with impressive speed, then swung his watery blade down at Huberd’s neck.

That was when he stopped moving.

It wasn’t just Robert, either. Glenn and Cyril had both stopped, too. They could feel an intense pain in their backs.

“What…is this…?!” Glenn muttered.

Just as he turned to look behind them, a flame arrow pierced his chest.

The attack couldn’t injure him, but he still felt all of the pain.

Glenn could feel his flesh cooking. He cried out in anguish and fell to his knees. Cyril and Robert did the same—flame arrows had hit both of them.

But why? He didn’t chant at all… It’s almost like he’s…

“Hmmm, hm-hm-hmmm.”

Humming a gleeful tune, Huberd waved his bony, angular finger around like a conductor’s baton.

Once again, flame arrows rained down on his three opponents. It felt like the arrows were gouging their flesh as the fire roasted their arms, legs, and chests. Their cries of pain echoed through the woods.

Every mage needed to chant to cast. There was no way someone could use spells while humming like that.

Well, there was one way.

“…Unchanted magecraft?”

Terror and despair filled Glenn’s heart just as another volley of flame arrows rained down from above. And with that, Glenn lost consciousness.

The spectators in the student council room all raised their voices in shock. The image projected on the white curtain was silent. Nevertheless, it was painfully clear that Cyril, Glenn, and Robert were screaming in agony.

Felix watched the scene without blinking and analyzed what he saw.

Huberd Dee doesn’t seem to be chanting. But only one person in the world can use unchanted magecraft, and that’s the Silent Witch. Was he the Silent Witch all along? No, Lady Everett is a woman. That much is certain.

As Felix sat on the bench, quietly disturbed, Wildianu stirred in his pocket. Wildianu was the prince’s contracted spirit—a high water spirit currently taking the form of a lizard.

If Cyril and the others lost, Felix planned to have Wildianu intervene and secretly take care of Huberd. But if Huberd could use unchanted magecraft, would Wildianu be up to the task? The spirit wasn’t particularly skilled at combat.

As Felix hesitated, Monica’s friend Lana shrieked. “Monica, are you okay? Monica!”

Monica’s face was white as a sheet. She was pressing her hand to her mouth and trembling fiercely.

In the image on the curtain, Huberd released another volley of fire arrows, piercing his opponents’ limbs for no reason other than cruelty. With each hit, Monica’s throat pushed out a small whimper.

“Stop… No, stop…,” she murmured, looking like she was about to throw up.

Lana, sitting next to her, rubbed her back.

“Do you need to throw up?” whispered Claudia.

Monica nodded awkwardly and stumbled to her feet.

Lana, clearly worried, moved to go with her, but Monica shook her head.

“Lana, please stay here for me and see who wins… Please.”

With that, Monica hurried out the door. Normally, she was slow and awkward, but now her steps were unusually fast.

Felix thought for a moment, then stood as well. Next to him, Bridget covered her mouth with her fan and looked up at him. “Going to look after her?” she asked.

“I can’t just leave her like that.”

“Then I shall watch the results of this magic battle as closely as possible in your stead. I am your secretary. Everything will be recorded.”

“Thank you,” replied Felix with a wry grin. Then he turned and left the room.

But by the time he reached the hall, Monica was nowhere to be seen. “Wildianu, go to the battlefield and get rid of Huberd. Make it look like an accident. You’re free to use any means necessary.”

“What will you do, Master?” the spirit asked.

“I’ll look for Monica. I’m worried she might collapse somewhere.”

“…As you wish.”

Once Wildianu was out of his pocket and on his way, Felix began searching for Monica.

Unbeknownst to him, the girl he was looking for had already jumped out a window and was now using her unsteady flight magecraft to rush toward the woods.