Chapter 2: The Storm’s Intruder

Beneath a starlit sky that seemed on the verge of falling.

As I dashed through the unending trail of the《Corridor of Stars》stretching into eternity—I found myself thinking of a certain person.

It was about the oldest memory I had, the first moment I became aware of this world.

…………

…One day, I suddenly woke up.

Before my eyes, a crimson sky burned with the hues of twilight, and the dry air scorched my skin.

I… was lying in the middle of some scorched wasteland.

It seemed I had been caught up in some kind of accident.

My body at that moment was terribly wounded. Covered in blood, and gravely injured.

The clothes I wore were so tattered that I couldn’t even discern their original design.

And what plunged me into the deepest unease—

I… couldn’t remember anything.

Who I was… what I had been doing… why I was lying in a place like this… I knew nothing of the events that had led to my “present.”

Amnesia—due to some accident, I had lost all my memories up to that point.

No memories. That meant I had no anchor in this world.

Was there nothing? Nothing to define who I was?

Memories are the chain of cause and effect that binds us to the world.

If this continued, my existence would drift apart from the world, dissolving into the void—

As I trembled with that baseless, delusional fear,

The deepest part of me—another version of myself, the “inner voice” of my soul—softly whispered the answer.

“…I am… Celica…?”

The only memory left to me. The name that defined and embodied who I was.

That was my sole anchor.

The one proof that I wasn’t a being who had sprung from nowhere, but was tied to the world by the chain of cause and effect.

—Yes, you are—I am, Celica.

—You are—I am, and I must fulfill my role.

With my name reclaimed, spurred by that “inner voice,” my frozen time began to move again.

And so,

This marked the beginning of an endless nightmare for me, Celica Arfonia—

…A story from about four hundred years ago.

The day to set out for the ruin expedition had finally arrived.

In the early morning, veiled by faint twilight and morning mist, Glenn and the others boarded a large rented carriage with a second-floor open deck and departed from Fejite.

“The breeze feels so nice, doesn’t it…?”

“Yeah.”

Sistine, who had claimed a corner of the breezy second-floor deck, murmured thoughtfully as she brushed back her hair fluttering in the gentle wind, while Rumia, sitting beside her, smiled and nodded in agreement.

As Sistine and the others passed through Fejite’s northern gate, they were greeted by vast farmlands stretching across the landscape and crisp, clear air that carried the breath of nature.

The carriage headed north along the Argo Highway, connecting Fejite to the imperial capital, Orlando.

The highway, with its gentle slopes and curves, stretched far into the northwest, vanishing into the horizon. To the west, a series of low hills lined the view, while to the east lay a dense forest, beyond which majestic snow-capped peaks extended endlessly.

As the sun rose, the sky turned a vibrant blue, with clouds drifting lazily across it.

The fresh scent of young grass tickled the nose, and a hawk soaring in the sky let out a clear, flute-like cry.

In a nearby pasture they passed, sheep were munching on grass with gusto.

The serene, pastoral scenery was so calming that it seemed to wash the soul clean just by looking at it.

“It really is nice to get out once in a while, isn’t it…?”

“Yeah… you’re right… the air tastes so fresh…”

Wendy and Lynn, also on the second-floor deck, seemed in unusually high spirits.

“…Sheep. So fluffy. Lots of them.”

Re=L seemed utterly captivated by the sheep below. Sitting primly next to Rumia, she stared intently at them with sleepy, half-closed eyes, as if trying to bore holes into them.

“Hey, Sistie, if everything goes smoothly, we’ll reach the ruins around sunset, right?”

Rumia asked Sistine, recalling the trip’s schedule.

“That’s right. The ‘Taum Astronomical Temple’ is actually a pretty nearby ruin… so, let’s just take it easy until we get there, okay?”

Sistine replied with a smile… but then, as if remembering something, her smile gradually turned into a grimace.

“But honestly… even with such beautiful scenery, those teachers…”

She let out a deep sigh, exasperated by the uncouth group holed up inside the carriage.

—Meanwhile, inside the carriage, a merciless battle was raging.

“How’s that? A flush of hearts!”

“Oh my, hehe… I’m sorry, Sensei. I’ve got a full house. My win, right?”

“Gaaaaaaaah!? No way, seriously!?”

“Guh!? At a time like this!? Teresa, you’re too strong!”

Glenn and the male students were gathered around a table with Teresa, the sole girl among them, in the midst of a heated game of poker.

“Well then, I’ll be taking these toy medals, okay?”

Teresa gleefully raked in the pile of medals on the table with a clatter.

“Hehe… good thing this isn’t real gambling with actual money, right, everyone?”

Her childlike giggle sent a chill down everyone’s spine.

“Damn it! No way…! I, the legendary gambler once hailed as a legend in the imperial casino, beaten like this…!?”

Glenn clutched his head in frustration, thoroughly outplayed by Teresa.

Before the game started, Gibul had pompously declared, pushing up his glasses, “Poker isn’t about luck, you know? It’s an intellectual math game driven by probability and statistics!” But now…

“No… this can’t be… statistically… probabilistically… this outcome is impossible…!”

His face twisted in humiliation, sweat beading on his forehead.

“…Luck really does exist, huh… Oh, Teresa, lend me ten more medals.”

“Wow, as expected of a rich girl… Uh, I’ll take ten too.”

Kash and Cecil, completely at Teresa’s mercy, had already resigned themselves to defeat.

(Tch, damn it! Why can’t I win!? I’m even cheating!)

As Glenn screamed internally, he was indeed pulling every dirty trick in the book—manipulating the deck while shuffling, hiding cards and swapping them in an instant, or secretly picking cards from the discard pile. His shameless, childish cheating against his students was relentless… but…

(My technique is flawless, so why is this happening!?)

For instance, when Glenn was the dealer and slipped Teresa a worthless hand, she would casually swap a few cards and inevitably pull a massive hand.

It was as if some greater will was backing her—Teresa’s luck was unnaturally strong.

(Fine! I was holding back on giving myself big hands to avoid suspicion, but no more! I’ll bury Teresa with my ultimate technique!)

In the next game,

As the dealer, Glenn used every sleight-of-hand trick he knew to shuffle the deck and deal the cards to the students.

(Ta-da! Hahahahaha—how’s that!?)

Glenn spread his hand with a smug grin.

His hand was a five-of-a-kind with 7s, including the joker.

A (filthy) trump card taught to him by Bernard, The Hermit, back in his days with the Imperial Court Mage Corps.

(I’m nowhere near that old man who could freely deal royal straight flushes to four people… but this time, victory is mine! Die, Teresa!)

Naturally, Glenn went all-in with his remaining medals, brimming with confidence—

“Oh…? Something feels off…”

Teresa, upon seeing her hand, immediately discarded all her cards into the pile.

“Sensei, five new cards, please.”

(Wha—!?)

The hand Teresa had just discarded was a four-of-a-kind—a trap Glenn had set. It wasn’t as strong as a five-of-a-kind, but still a formidable hand.

(She saw through it and discarded it without hesitation…!?)

Trembling with a foreboding sense of dread, Glenn nervously dealt Teresa five new cards…

“Oh my? A royal straight flush.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding meeeeeeeeeeeeee!?”

Teresa calmly revealed her hand—spades 10, J, Q, K, A—the strongest hand in poker. Glenn’s eyes bulged as he flung his cards into the air, screaming in disbelief.

“Honestly… what are they even doing…?”

Sistine sighed deeply as the screams echoed from inside the carriage.

“Challenging Teresa to a gambling game is just reckless… That girl’s the real deal—petty tricks don’t work on someone with her kind of heaven-sent, ironclad luck.”

Wendy sighed as well, her tone almost pitying.

“Um… uh, sorry about the noisy passengers…”

Sistine peeked toward the driver’s seat and apologetically addressed the coachman.

The coachman, hired along with the rented carriage for this journey, was handling the reins.

“……”

The coachman, cloaked in a long, hooded overcoat, glanced back briefly and gave a small, silent nod. The hood obscured their eyes, making their expression unreadable, but they didn’t seem particularly offended by the rowdy passengers.

Sistine let out a relieved breath, but then—

“Still… this country really has a lot of ancient ruins, doesn’t it…? What’s with that?”

Wendy, leaning out to look below, muttered under her breath.

By the roadside stood a weathered, toppled stone monument—another type of ancient ruin.

It wasn’t just that one monument. Since leaving Fejite, the wide plains revealed scattered ruins of all sizes—stone circles, remnants of walls, ancient burial mounds—dotting the landscape here and there.

This area was particularly known for its abundance of small ruins, but such sights were common throughout the empire.

“Come to think of it… the place where the Alzano Empire is located… a long time ago, there was an ancient civilization called the ‘Super Magic Civilization,’ right…?”

“That’s what they say.”

As Lynn spoke, Wendy nodded in agreement, and then…

“That’s right! So, how about we all talk about the ancient civilization!?”

Sistine, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, eagerly jumped in.

“The location of this country, in other words, centered around the northwestern tip of the North Selford Continent, it’s an undeniable fact, as Wendy said, that a Super Magic Civilization once existed! The ruins scattered across various parts of the empire, the inscriptions and murals left within those ruins, the oral traditions and songs passed down among remote tribes and the nomadic people of the southern plains, and the mysterious magical artifacts unearthed from these ruins! All sorts of circumstantial evidence prove the existence of that Super Magic Civilization! It all began with—” (omitted)

Without waiting for anyone’s approval, Sistine launched into an impassioned speech.

“Here she goes… the ancient civilization fanatic…”

“Sorry, Wendy. When it comes to this stuff, Sistie turns into a different person…”

Wendy’s half-lidded, exasperated look was met with Rumia’s apologetic smile and clasped hands.

1. “(…) The ancient history before the Sacred Calendar is divided into several eras: the Creation Era, the Divine Age, the Pandemonium Era, the Old Ancient Early, Middle, and Late Periods, and the New Ancient Early and Late Periods… and so on. But this so-called Super Magic Civilization, which is said to have once existed in the place where the Alzano Empire now stands, is believed to have existed from the Old Ancient Early to Middle Periods… from around 8000 to 4000 years before the Sacred Calendar. Since it’s now the year 1853 of the Sacred Calendar… let’s see, that’s about 5800 years ago! Isn’t that amazing… 5800 years! It’s truly a mind-boggling era, isn’t it?”

“Haa… by the way, I have a question.”

Wendy, with a resigned air, tossed out a question.

It seemed she’d decided to indulge Sistine’s passion.

“I’ve always wondered, what exactly is the Super Magic Civilization? Why isn’t it called the Super Magical Technique civilization? If I recall, the dictionary definitions of magic and magical techniques are…”

Magic and magical techniques.

Though the words sound similar, their core meanings are entirely different.

Both involve supernatural phenomena, but magic is an “inexplicable mysterious power,” while magical techniques are “reproducible skills explained by theory.”

To put it in fairy-tale terms… magic is the mysterious power to tap an empty pocket and produce a biscuit, while magical techniques involve gathering the materials for a biscuit, transmuting them through elemental array conversion, and theoretically crafting the biscuit.

Unlike magic, magical techniques are, in principle, skills that anyone can learn and use equally.

“Exactly, Wendy. The answer lies in those dictionary definitions.”

Sistine puffed out her chest, answering proudly.

“The magic used by ancient people is, to us modern folks, essentially magic. In other words… a ‘mysterious power’ we can’t comprehend. They built their civilization using enigmatic magic that our modern magic can’t theoretically explain… and that’s why it’s a Super ‘Magic’ Civilization, you see!”

“Now that you mention it, I’ve heard something like that…”

Lynn chimed in, as if something had clicked.

“The ancient relics—magical artifacts—unearthed from ruins… through various studies, we can figure out what magical functions they have and the steps to activate those functions… but the crucial part—the theory and mechanics, how those artifacts operate under what principles—modern magical techniques can’t explain at all… right?”

“Exactly! That’s why in magical archaeology, we call the runic magic we study ‘modern magic,’ while the mysterious techniques used by ancient people are called ‘ancient magic.’”

Then, Sistine suddenly glanced back toward Fejite’s direction in the sky.

There, as always, the illusory Melgalius’s Sky Castle floated faintly, half-hidden among the clouds.

“That ‘Melgalius’s Sky Castle’… they say it’s a ruin created by that ‘ancient magic.’”

Following Sistine’s gaze, everyone looked up at the distant sky.

“I want to unravel the mysteries of the ancient civilization. Why did they float a castle in the sky and hide it in the dimensional rift…? What’s hidden in that castle…? What exactly is ‘ancient magic’…? And why did such an advanced civilization fall…? I want to know.”

And… someday, I’ll reach that sky castle.

I’ll etch into my eyes the sight my grandfather dreamed of.

With that fierce resolve in her heart, Wendy gave Sistine a wry smile of encouragement.

“Well, good luck with that.”

“Thanks, Wendy. Anyway, getting back to the topic—”

Sistine continued her enthusiastic lecture with glee.

Wendy and the others, half-exasperated and half-amused, humored her.

For a while, Sistine’s fervent speech went on…

“(omitted)—And so, Wise King Cruo I, who unified the surrounding nations with the power of magic, founded the Magic Kingdom of Melgalius, laying the foundation for four thousand years of order—”

“…Hold on a second!”

At that moment, Wendy, noticing a change in the scenery, interrupted Sistine.

“W-Where are we headed right now?”

“…Huh?”

Snapped back to reality by Wendy’s words, Sistine finally noticed.

Looking around… the carriage was traveling alongside a dense, shadowy forest to the left.

Turning back, she saw the highway faintly visible between gentle hills, far off on the horizon.

They’d been so engrossed in conversation that they hadn’t noticed, but at some point, the carriage had veered far off the highway, heading in a completely different direction.

“H-Hey, Coachman-san!? This isn’t the route we planned!?”

Sistine hurriedly rushed to the driver’s seat and peered down.

There, the same coachman was silently steering the horses as before.

“You’re on the wrong path! If we stray this far from the highway and get close to the forest—”

Yes, it was dangerous.

In an era where steam-powered trains were only operational in a small part of the empire’s northern Iteria region, with railway expansion still years away, stagecoaches remained the primary mode of intercity travel.

The main highways, maintained by imperial policy, were regularly patrolled by the military for road upkeep and beast extermination, and enchanted with beast-repelling magic, making them relatively safe. The areas around highways, including nearby hills and plains, were practically human domains despite being outdoors.

But conversely—straying far from the highways meant losing that safety.

Especially in dense forests, caves, or remote mountain regions—areas that resisted human intrusion—these were perilous domains where dangerous magical beasts roamed freely.

True, there had been no reports of dangerous beasts in this area—but even so, it was best to avoid getting too close to a forest far from the highway.

“Turn back immediately! Hurry!”

Out of concern for everyone’s safety, Sistine’s voice grew sharp.

But—

“……”

The coachman ignored Sistine’s words, continuing to steer the horses in silence.

“W-What…!? Why…!? Stop, please…!”

For the coachman to completely ignore her despite her pleas… something was clearly wrong.

“What’s going on!? Who are you—!?”

Just as Sistine’s emotions began to flare—

From the dense forest to the carriage’s left, deep in the shadowy woods…

A rustling sound—zazazaza—as multiple somethings rapidly approached.

“Huh!? What!? No way—!”

The moment Sistine let out a panicked cry—

From the bushes ahead and behind the carriage, countless dark shadows burst forth.

The shadows darted around the carriage like a whirlwind, surrounding it in an instant…

Hiiiiiiiiiin!

Startled by the shadows, the horses reared up, halting abruptly and neighing loudly into the sky.

The true nature of the shadows—

“Sh-Shadow Wolves!?”

The carriage was completely encircled by over a dozen Shadow Wolves.

Shadow Wolves were wolf-like magical beasts with sharp claws and fangs, glowing eyes, and, as their name suggested, jet-black fur that blended into the shadows.

While not rare among forest-dwelling magical beasts, they were extremely dangerous.

Their deadly claws and fangs went without saying, but their most troublesome trait was their overwhelming agility, impossible for humans to match. Neither offensive spells nor guns could easily hit them unless wielded by someone with exceptional skill.

“No one said anything about dangerous beasts like these living in a place like this… Coachman-san, what’s your deal!?”

“……”

Yet, even in this dire situation, the coachman remained silent. They merely pulled the reins tightly to keep the horses from bolting, otherwise motionless.

“Tch…!”

Sistine gritted her teeth. Now wasn’t the time to question the coachman’s intentions.

She had to find a way out of this crisis.

(Shadow Wolves are magical beasts… As their name suggests, they possess special abilities that ordinary beasts lack…)

That ability is—[Fear Detection].

Shadow Wolves have the ability to keenly sense the fear that their targets feel toward them. They use that fear to determine whether a target is suitable prey for their attack.

“Everyone, don’t be scared! If you get scared—”

Sistine raises a warning cry, but it’s already too late.

“Ah… ugh… hii… Magical beasts… so many of them…!”

“Ugh… w-why does someone like me have to go through this…!?”

Lynn and Wendy have gone completely pale, trembling in fear.

(…It’s no wonder… Even though we’re mages, we’re just sheltered kids raised in a greenhouse… Surrounded by so many ferocious wild magical beasts, there’s no way we could stay calm… Even I’m scared…)

While suppressing her pounding heart with deep breaths, Sistine grits her teeth.

This has become an extremely troublesome situation.

Once Shadow Wolves designate something as prey, they become incredibly bold and relentless, never backing down. Even offensive spells won’t intimidate them now.

In fact, perhaps having sensed their fear, the Shadow Wolves in front of them crouch low, ready to attack. To them, Sistine and the others must seem like perfect prey. They circle at a distance, waiting eagerly for the right moment to strike.

In a situation like this, no matter how many spells they cast to drive the wolves away, the beasts’ exceptional agility would allow them to dodge and relentlessly target their throats.

“…Sistie, are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine. What about Re=L…?”

“No good. I’ve been shaking and calling her, but she won’t wake up…”

At a time like this, the most reliable petite girl is curled up, fast asleep, using Rumia’s lap as a pillow.

“She mentioned last night that she was so excited about going out with us that she couldn’t sleep.”

“Haa… Talking about complicated stuff that made Re=L sleepy backfired, didn’t it…”

Sistine let out an involuntary sigh.

As a soldier or Rumia’s bodyguard, Re=L is a failure… but as a girl her age, she’s normal, and that’s what they wanted for her, so it’s neither good nor bad.

“As long as we stay inside or on top of the carriage, those things can’t touch us… but if they get to the horses, we’ll be stranded… We have to protect the horses somehow…”

With a grim expression, Sistine takes aim at the Shadow Wolves.

“Anyway, coachman-san. I have a lot of questions for you… but it’s dangerous there. Please climb up here quickly. I’ll cover you…”

And at that moment.

“Hold it right there, you bastards!”

Bang! The carriage window flies open with a loud crash.

Finally noticing the situation outside, our esteemed teacher, Glenn-sensei, makes his grand entrance.

“You insolent fools! Thinking you can lay a hand on my students? You’ve got some guts!”

With his arms crossed boldly, Glenn declares this with a fearless smirk—

“I’ll take you down myself—Hah!”

He places a foot on the window sill, leaps, and jumps out of the carriage—

“—Fwoosh!”

Performing a triple-twist forward somersault, he lands gracefully—

Crunch.

An odd sound comes from Glenn’s right ankle.

“…………”

For a few seconds, Glenn remains frozen in his graceful landing pose.

“Gyaaaaaaa—!? My foot! I sprained it—!?”

Clutching his ankle with both hands, he screams and rolls around on the ground.

“Hiiiigyaaaa!? It hurts too much—!?”

“W-What!? What are you doing!? Why would you jump like that onto unpaved ground!? Are you an idiot!?”

Sistine feels a headache coming on.

This instructor is truly unreliable when it matters most.

“Sistie! It’s bad! Sensei—”

“Y-You’re right, this is bad!”

Rumia’s scream makes Sistine realize.

Yes, they’re safe—as long as they stay inside or on top of the carriage.

But Glenn has jumped out of the carriage. And to top it off, he’s clumsily injured himself.

There’s no way the Shadow Wolves would miss such an opportunity.

“Gruuuuaaaa—!”

Seizing the moment, three Shadow Wolves, ignoring the horses and the coachman, designate the defenseless Glenn rolling on the ground as their prey and charge at him all at once.

“Tch…! 《O thunder spirit》—!”

Sistine hurriedly chants a spell, aiming at the approaching Shadow Wolves.

But the Shadow Wolves nimbly dodge her lightning, leaping through the air as if flying, closing in on Glenn in an instant.

Their sharp claws and fangs rush toward the crouching Glenn—

“S-Sensei—!?”

Sistine lets out a scream, anticipating the worst possible scene about to unfold…

At that very moment.

“《Sinful me, alone at the twilight of demons, recalls thee》—”

Suddenly, an unfamiliar chant reaches Sistine’s ears.

In that instant, whoosh—a whirlwind erupts from the coachman’s seat—

“Gyaauuuun!”

“Gyan!?” “Gyawan—!?”

The three magical beasts attacking Glenn erupt in blood and are blown into the air.

“…Huh?”

Sistine widens her eyes in shock.

“…Hm?”

Looking over, Glenn, with a nonchalant expression, is half-drawing a pistol he had hidden behind his back…

“…………”

Before him, the coachman now stands, shielding Glenn with their back.

In the coachman’s hand is a drawn sword.

It seems the coachman had been hiding the sword beneath a deeply hooded cloak.

The sword is a hand-and-a-half sword—a bastard sword, favored by knights of old for use on horseback, designed to overwhelm opponents with the weight of a single strike. In an era where modern fencing, with its emphasis on speed and multiple strikes using rapiers, has become mainstream, such a sword is quite rare.

(…T-The coachman… a swordsman? No, more importantly…)

What catches Sistine’s attention is the beauty of the sword.

Even Sistine, who knows little about swords, can tell at a glance. That sword—it’s a masterpiece.

Its material isn’t Wootz Steel, the highest-grade material used in forging blades in the Alzano Empire. Instead, it’s something far superior—a magical metal, mithril.

Forged through magical means, folded and hammered countless times, this blade of mithril boasts incredible rigidity and toughness far beyond that of iron—a painstakingly crafted masterpiece.

The sleek, slightly thick silver blade is razor-sharp, with a faint blue glow shimmering along it like phosphorescence. Its mirror-polished surface is flawless, exuding a demonic allure as a weapon, with its beauty subtly woven into every detail.

A miraculous embodiment that fuses practicality and artistry at a transcendent level.

Adorned with an ornate cross-shaped hilt, this treasured sword is undoubtedly the magnum opus of a renowned alchemical swordsmith, crafted with their utmost dedication.

Such an utterly out-of-place sword… the coachman holds it loosely in one hand.

Then.

“…What’s that… you were here, huh…”

Seeing the sword, Glenn scratches his head, standing up with an annoyed expression…

“Tch… Guess there’s no need for me to step in, then. I’ll leave the rest to you.”

Holstering the pistol he had begun to draw, he turns his back on the coachman with a huff.

The coachman turns their head slightly, glancing back at Glenn.

Though their eyes are hidden deep within the hood, their mouth curves into a faint smile…

In that instant, the coachman’s figure suddenly blurs and vanishes.

Kicked-up grass blades float gently in the air—

“Gyaauuun—!?” “Gyan!?”

The next moment, two of the magical beasts surrounding the carriage let out death cries and collapse, rolling across the ground.

Nearby stands the coachman, having just swung their sword—

But even that is already an afterimage.

“Kyaiiiin—!?”

In the next instant, a death cry rises from a completely different spot, and another beast falls to the ground.

It’s a silent, godlike sword strike, so fast it doesn’t even make a sound as it cuts through the air—

“W-What… What’s happening!?”

The Shadow Wolves surrounding the carriage are sliced apart one by one, as if tracing a clockwise circle, blown away, rolling, and collapsing.

It’s an utterly one-sided slaughter.

The coachman moves at blinding speed, blurring from one edge of Sistine’s vision to the other, swinging their sword.

To Sistine’s eyes, she can barely make out the fleeting afterimages of the coachman and the glimmer of sword flashes that decorate the beasts in those fleeting moments.

The magical beasts themselves likely don’t even comprehend what’s happening to them.

One by one, they fall under a single stroke of the blade.

It’s as if a grim reaper, transformed into a gust of wind, is wielding lightning—and that reaper takes the form of the coachman.

“Gruuuaaaaa—!”

When their numbers dwindle to less than a third, the wolves finally seem to recognize the coachman as a formidable foe.

With coordination far beyond that of ordinary beasts, they surround the coachman and leap at them from all directions.

Their deadly claws and fangs close in straight for the coachman’s throat—

But the coachman gracefully spins, drawing their sword—

—A single touch of their armored sleeve.

“““Gyaawaaaaaa—!?”“”

Like a spring uncoiling, four flashes of silver light burst forth in a single breath.

Caught in the segmented space, the four beasts are sent soaring high into the air in unison.

“A-Amazing!? What kind of swordsmanship is that—!?”

The coachman’s swordsmanship is terrifyingly powerful, fast, and refreshingly straightforward, yet ferocious.

A sword that soars with maximum force along the shortest path—likely a classic example of old-era knightly swordsmanship.

From the perspective of modern fencing, its relentlessly linear sword paths and footwork might be mocked as monotonous, crude, or lacking in variation.

But the coachman’s swordsmanship is a refined, ultimate swift-and-heavy blade, honed to the extreme with simple sharpness and weight.

Through countless repetitions—tens, hundreds of thousands of times—tracing the sword forms with unwavering dedication, even a basic technique has been elevated to the level of a modern fencing secret technique, a supreme art.

Before this straightforward sword, all techniques and ingenuity of other swordsmanship must seem like mere tricks.

“I’ve never seen such incredible swordsmanship…”

As Sistine gazes, entranced by the coachman’s sword dance…

“Idiot. That’s not swordsmanship. It’s magic.”

Glenn, leaning against the carriage with his hands behind his head, mutters.

“Huh…? Magic…?”

“Modified White Magic [Load Experience]… A spell that reads the thoughts and memories accumulated in an object and temporarily allows the user to wield them…”

Watching the coachman slaughter the beasts from the corner of his eye, Glenn says calmly.

“That sword was the favored weapon of a woman once hailed as the greatest swordmaster in the empire’s history. That guy is reading the memories within that sword and temporarily borrowing the skills of its original wielder.”

“W-What… did you say…?”

“No one can beat that guy with a sword right now. No one, except the sword’s original wielder… well, the real deal, basically.”

Sistine is left speechless, her mouth agape.

Indeed, there are white magic spells that allow one to possess another’s experiential memories.

But those are typically [White Magic Rituals]—ceremonial magic. They are incredibly advanced, requiring complex procedures and immense time and effort.

Yet Glenn called it Modified White Magic [Load Experience].

Thinking back, that mysterious three-verse chant she heard at the start… that must be the coachman’s Modified White Magic [Load Experience] spell.

Unbelievable as it is, the coachman has condensed a ceremonial magic, which normally requires vast time and lengthy incantations, into that three-verse chant they uttered.

Hence the ‘Modified’ White Magic. Such an absurd spell, while theoretically possible, is technically inimitable by anyone… practically an Original Magic.

“That coachman… just who are they…!?”

“Hm? Still haven’t figured it out? The only one who could pull off something that ridiculous is…”

At that moment.

The final Shadow Wolf and the coachman cross paths like lightning streaking across the ground.

A sword flash, swung in an instant, mercilessly strikes the beast’s vital point.

But whether it’s the pride of a magical beast, superior to humans as a living creature, or mere chance…

The beast’s claws tear through the coachman’s cloak with a rip as they pass.

The last Shadow Wolf, scattering fresh blood, collapses face-first onto the ground with a thud.

Meanwhile.

The torn cloak, toyed by the breeze, slips off the coachman’s body…

Suddenly, dazzling golden hair spills out from beneath the hood. Gleaming brilliantly like wheat blazing in twilight, the hair flows in the wind, vividly searing the retinas of onlookers.

“Ah—”

Sistine gasps, her eyes widening in shock.

From beneath the drab cloak emerges a black gothic dress.

The coachman’s alluring, graceful figure is all too familiar.

“Yare, yare, guess I’ve been found out… Failure, failure. The plan was to make a grand entrance a bit later…”

Shrugging playfully and sheathing the pristine sword without a drop of blood, the coachman’s true identity—

“A… A-Arfonia-sensei!? Why are you here!?”

“Yo. Everyone doing alright?”

Turning to face the group, the coachman—Celica Arfonia—grins boldly.

For some reason, Celica had switched places with the hired coachman without anyone noticing.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you all. It’s just that this route was a shortcut to the Taum Astronomical Temple… The magical beasts wandering into this area were unexpected, too… My bad, my bad, guess I meddled unnecessarily.”

Saying this without a hint of remorse…

“Anyway, bit sudden, but… I’m coming along, Glenn. I’ll lend you my strength.”

Celica, for some reason, declares she’ll join Glenn and the others.

“Of course, I won’t interfere at all. You’re the leader of this expedition, Glenn. Treat me as just another member following the leader’s orders.”

Her mischievous smile gives no clue to her true intentions.

“Well, even if I’m past my prime, I’m still a renowned Seventh Rank, ya know? …Use me well.”

But they can’t exactly send her away, and considering the safety of the students on this journey, having Celica, the world’s strongest mage, along is a godsend.

Celica’s participation is thus reluctantly finalized…

“Tch, that woman… What’s her goal…? What’s she scheming…?”

Having taken over the reins from Celica, Glenn mutters to himself on the coachman’s seat.

“There’s definitely some shady motive behind this…”

“Y-You don’t have to be so suspicious…”

Sitting beside Glenn to assist with the reins, Rumia gives a wry smile.

“I’m sure it’s just Arfonia-sensei’s parental concern, wanting to help you out, Sensei.”

“No way, impossible!”

Glenn shoots Rumia a sidelong glance with half-lidded eyes.

“That woman is even lazier than me, selfish, and totally free-spirited. She’d never do anything she’s not interested in or doesn’t feel like doing, even if the world were ending.”

“I-Is that so…?”

“Yeah.”

Glenn shudders dramatically, as if terrified.

“For someone like her to bring out her old friend’s heirloom sword and tag along…? No way…! She’s definitely up to something no good…!”

“Haha…”

Rumia laughs awkwardly as Glenn glances back.

(Besides… that’s not the only issue…)

Through the small glass window behind him, Glenn peers into the carriage.

Yes, the concerns about Celica’s involvement… go beyond just that.

Inside the carriage, where Glenn secretly peers through the window…

(Dear Father, Dear Mother, are you well? …Right now, the atmosphere inside the carriage is absolutely dreadful.)

Sistine lets out a sigh.

As noon approaches and the sunlight grows stronger, staying on the open second-floor seats would drain their energy unnecessarily… so the students have all gathered inside the carriage.

Naturally, Celica is seated in a corner of the carriage as well…

(Why would someone as great as Arfonia-sensei…?)

(That living legend… with us…? S-Seriously…?)

(No way… to think we’re traveling with the great Celica Arfonia…)

(I-I can’t believe it… Is this a dream…?)

(What kind of person is she really…? To wield such a sword and magic…)

(Ugh, I’m so nervous…!)

The students huddled together in seats as far from Celica’s as possible, shrinking back.

It was only natural. The students knew that Celica Arfonia, the continent’s pinnacle mage, was affiliated with the Alzano Imperial Magic Academy and had seen her around campus. They also knew that Glenn and Celica shared a master-disciple bond.

…But Celica was surrounded by all sorts of rumors, anecdotes, and legends, for better or worse.

Her name frequently appeared in modern magic history textbooks, and that was just the start.

Some called her a hero who slew the minions of an evil god during the Great Magical War two hundred years ago; others branded her a slaughterer who massacred an entire town; some said she was treated as a strategic weapon by the imperial army, known as [The Witch of Ash]. There were even whispers she was the reincarnation of an ancient demon king—the list went on and on.

On top of that, Celica, who never taught classes or took charge of a homeroom, rarely had meaningful interactions with students. Her otherworldly beauty, so refined it exuded a cold, unyielding aura, created an unapproachable atmosphere.

And now, this larger-than-life figure would be spending the next few days with them.

It was only natural for the students to brace themselves with tension.

Kash and Gibul, trying to keep up appearances in front of the girls, feigned nonchalance out of masculine pride, while Wendy and the other female students kept their distance from Celica. Lynn, trembling in fear, hid behind Teresa’s back.

Unlike Re=L, who had no such baggage, the overwhelming, almost mythical reputation surrounding Celica created a vast chasm between her and the students.

Except for Rumia, Sistine, Re=L, and others who knew Celica through Glenn, the students were utterly intimidated by her extraordinary presence.

(…Hey, Celica. They’re totally terrified of you. Do something about it…)

Glenn sighed, peering through the small window at the scene inside.

“~♪”

Celica, unfazed, casually flipped through a book with a relaxed expression.

She seemed completely indifferent to the fearful and tense gazes directed her way.

“Um, Professor Arfonia…?”

Sistine, trying to break the stifling atmosphere, spoke up.

“So… why exactly are you joining us on this ruin expedition…?”

“…Hm? …My reason? Let’s see…”

Celica lifted her gaze from the book and glanced forward.

Her eyes met Glenn’s, who was peeking into the carriage through the front window.

Yikes!? Glenn hurriedly ducked out of sight.

Celica, catching his reaction, gave a gentle smile…

“…No reason, really. Just felt like it.”

She returned her attention to her book as she spoke.

“J-Just felt like it…?”

“Yup. Just felt like it.”

She clearly had no intention of elaborating, and there was a faint hint of refusal in her tone.

“Uh, um…”

Sistine faltered, struggling to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, right, Professor! I have a question!”

“…Hm?”

“When you took down those magical beasts earlier, why did you use a sword? With your skills, wouldn’t an offensive spell have been quicker and easier…?”

“…? Well, if I’d fired off an offensive spell from that position, it would’ve blown you all away too, right? It’d probably mess up the terrain and the ley lines as well…”

Celica stated it matter-of-factly, as if it were obvious, with no trace of boasting.

Just how powerful is she…? Sistine’s cheek twitched, but she pressed on.

“Even so, taking down that many enemies single-handedly… That was amazing! I’m kind of in awe!”

“Hahaha, Fibel. Haven’t you heard this rumor about me?”

“Huh?”

“They say… Celica Arfonia once annihilated tens of thousands of enemy soldiers single-handedly… Compared to that, those small-fry beasts? Pfft…”

“Wha—… Is that actually true…?”

“…Who knows? What do you think?”

Celica’s ambiguous reply, paired with a mischievous grin, left it unclear whether she was joking or serious.

(Ugh… That backfired…)

Sistine covered her face with her hand and sighed.

Celica’s teasing attitude wasn’t anything new—it was classic Celica.

But it was bad timing. The students who overheard the exchange shrank back even further.

With Celica, no matter how absurd the story, you couldn’t outright dismiss it as a lie. It could very well be true—she had that kind of power.

And Celica seemed to relish using that reputation to intimidate the students for her own amusement.

“Hehe…”

With a devilish smirk, Celica slyly glanced at the students.

(Ugh, this woman…!)

Like disciple, like master. For better or worse, Celica was unmistakably Glenn’s mentor.

As Sistine racked her brain for a solution…

“…Hm…? …Celica…?”

A soft murmur from Re=L echoed through the carriage.

Re=L, who had been curled up in a corner of the carriage, stirred and rubbed her sleepy eyes. She’d apparently just woken up and noticed Celica’s presence.

“…You’re here? You’re coming too, Celica?”

Re=L nimbly hopped over the seats…

And plopped down next to Celica, leaning in close.

Surprisingly, Re=L was quite attached to Celica.

When Re=L joined the Imperial Court Mage Corps, Celica had already retired, so they hadn’t met directly. But after meeting through Glenn, Re=L, for some reason, grew fond of her.

According to Re=L, “She doesn’t feel like a stranger… I don’t know why.”

“Yup, I’m tagging along. Nice to see you.”

Celica smiled warmly and ruffled Re=L’s hair.

She didn’t seem to mind Re=L’s affection one bit.

“…Okay. …What’re you reading?”

Re=L’s curiosity quickly shifted to the book Celica was holding.

“This? It’s a fairy tale called [The Magician of Melgalius].”

Celica opened the book to show Re=L.

The lithographed, four-color illustrations had long faded, and the printed text was blurry in places. Despite being labeled a fairy tale, the book was thick with text, almost heavy enough to be called a novel with abundant illustrations.

“Hm? ‘In his left hand, a red magic blade that negates spells… In his right, a black magic blade that devours souls… Overcoming the thirteen trials set by the Maiden of the Night Sky… Gaining thirteen lives, the Demon Blade General, Al-Khan’?”

Re=L squinted, haltingly reading the contents of the open page.

“‘Finally… turning his blade even against the Demon King’…? What’s this?”

“…That’s the climax of the prologue in [The Magician of Melgalius].”

Sistine suddenly chimed in.

“The so-called ‘Mage of Justice’ doesn’t appear until the second chapter. Up until then, it’s about how the Demon King and his Demon Generals gathered under his banner and built the Sky Castle. Among them, the Demon Blade General Al-Khan plays a key role as a sort of instigator in the early parts.”

“Oh? You seem to know a lot about it.”

Celica glanced at Sistine, visibly impressed.

“Huh? Oh, yes… For us Melgarians, this book is an important research material.”

The fairy tale [The Magician of Melgalius].

Set in a castle floating in the sky, it tells the story of a Mage of Justice who defeats an evil Demon King tormenting the people, rescues a captive princess, and brings smiles to everyone—a classic tale.

At first glance, it sounds like a children’s story, but it’s filled with mysteries, puzzles, and heavy drama depicting the protagonist’s inner struggles. It occasionally spotlights the Demon King and his subordinates, taking on the feel of an ensemble cast, making it surprisingly enjoyable for adults too.

“It’s not just a fairy tale. It’s a compilation of legends and folklore from across the empire, woven together by the author, Loran Ertoria, under his own unique interpretation—a grand tapestry of ancient mythology.”

Celica chuckled and held up the book.

“This was one of Glenn’s favorite books when he was a kid… I was looking for something to read on this trip to pass the time, and when I was rummaging through the bookshelf, this caught my eye. It felt nostalgic, so I grabbed it.”

“…Huh?”

Sistine blinked at Celica’s words.

“…That’s surprising. I’d have thought someone like Sensei, who goes on about magic being a tool for killing, would call this kind of thing nonsense…”

“He’s gotten cynical now. Sure, magic can be a tool for killing, but that’s not all it is… Deep down, he knows that, even if he won’t admit it…”

Celica gave a wry smile and shrugged.

“Back then, he was your typical magic-obsessed kid. He’d read this book and say, ‘I’m gonna be a mage of justice when I grow up!’ …He was pretty cute back then, you know?”

“Sensei…”

Sistine suddenly recalled.

The time Glenn, in a delirious mutter, had let slip that he wanted to be a mage of justice.

“Speaking of which… Professor Arfonia, you’re Glenn-sensei’s magic mentor and practically his mother, right? What was he like as a kid?”

Almost without thinking, Sistine found herself asking.

“N-Not that I have any ulterior motives or anything… I’m just curious about what kind of childhood could turn someone that cynical…!”

She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy toward Celica, who knew so much about a side of Glenn she didn’t.

Sistine was still too young to recognize that feeling as jealousy.

“Hmm… Let’s see…”

Celica glanced around briefly.

The students were still wary of her, but they seemed intrigued by stories of Glenn’s past, sneaking glances at Celica and Sistine.

With a fond look at the students, Celica closed her book with a soft thud.

Staring out the window at the passing scenery with a distant, nostalgic gaze, she began to speak softly.

“He was a pure, straightforward kid. Almost too good to be stuck with someone like me.”

And so began Celica’s reminiscences.

In the end, Celica’s stories were a collection of mundane moments.

Over a decade ago, when Celica was a mage in the Imperial Court Mage Corps, she whimsically took in the orphaned Glenn, raising him as family.

To care for Glenn, Celica retired from the Mage Corps, but she had no idea how to live a normal life, so there were times when young Glenn ended up taking care of her.

When Celica tried cooking for Glenn, fumbling through unfamiliar recipes, he’d tearfully say it wasn’t tasty, prompting her to seriously retrain herself in the kitchen.

Believing a boy should excel in both academics and athletics, she taught Glenn martial arts and magic.

While Glenn showed decent talent in martial arts, he was obsessed with magic despite having zero aptitude for it, much to her quiet exasperation.

The countless magical experiments she conducted with Glenn, his eyes always sparkling with excitement.

The slow, gentle days that followed.

Times when they clashed, too stubborn to be honest, leading to petty arguments over trivial misunderstandings.

“But those ordinary days… they were treasures for both of us…”

Then, one day.

Out of the blue, Glenn gave Celica a handmade gift, calling it a birthday present.

Celica didn’t know or care about her own birthday, but Glenn had arbitrarily decided one for her—a childishly innocent gesture.

“…And this is that gift.”

Celica pulled a clumsy, red stone pendant from her pocket and showed it to them.

“A red magic crystal he forged himself using the alchemy I taught him. He roughly cut it and strung it with a cord. The forging was sloppy, and it’s utterly worthless as a magical item—just trash.”

Yet, Celica had kept this “trash” close, even bringing it along on this trip, treasuring it dearly.

“Geez, getting something like this just puts me in a bind… I can’t exactly wear it… His lack of taste in handling women hasn’t changed since back then… But, well… back then… even someone like me got caught off guard…”

Closing her eyes wistfully, Celica clutched the stone tightly, as if it were precious.

Her tone, casual and dismissive, tried to downplay it.

But it spoke volumes about how deeply she cherished Glenn—as his mother figure, as his master.

And then—

“…That’s about it, I guess.”

Celica’s story abruptly stopped.

The sparkling, joyful days of Glenn’s childhood, like a treasure, had come to an end.

From there, Glenn was expelled under the guise of “graduation,” joined the Imperial Court Mage Corps…

“For his honor, I’ll skip the details, but… a string of unfortunate events piled up… He lost all motivation, or rather, it felt like he lost the will to live entirely, for a long time…”

Celica paused, her expression complicated, her words trailing off.

“So… I’m truly grateful to all of you.”

Suddenly, she looked around at the students, smiling.

A warm, radiant smile, like sunlight illuminating golden wheat fields, devoid of any coldness.

It was hard to believe this was the same woman shrouded in vicious rumors and unbelievable feats.

Caught off guard by her warmth, the students blinked, swallowing hard, visibly flustered.

“Glenn being able to act like a lively idiot again… it’s probably thanks to all of you. If I’d kept him under my wing, coddling and protecting him, he likely wouldn’t have recovered… So… thank you.”

With that,

Celica reopened her book and lowered her gaze, as if signaling the story was over.

True to her gesture, she said no more.

A gentle breeze blew through the half-open window, softly lifting Celica’s luxurious hair.

At that moment, Wendy, Lynn, and the other students—even Sistine, who already knew Celica fairly well—realized something.

Celica, spoken of and feared as if she were a demon or fiend.

She was nothing of the sort.

She was, just like them… a human being.

“Huh? What’s this…? The vibe in there’s gotten a lot better, hasn’t it…?”

Glenn, sneaking glances through the window, muttered in surprise.

The oppressive tension that had dominated the carriage had noticeably eased.

Lynn and Cecil, who had been shrinking back, were visibly more relaxed.

Kash and Wendy, though still awkward, were even making attempts to talk to Celica.

When spoken to, Celica closed her book and responded with a calm, gentle expression.

It seemed that after Celica’s long talk about something, the atmosphere had shifted—but unfortunately, Glenn, outside on the driver’s seat, couldn’t hear the details over the clatter of hooves and wheels.

“W-Well… not that it matters or anything…”

Glenn turned forward with a sulky expression, tugging the reins.

“I bet… after hearing Professor Arfonia’s stories, everyone realized she’s not that scary.”

“Tch, bunch of cowards, all of ’em!”

Glenn snorted at Rumia’s comment.

“Sure, she’s reckless, wild, selfish, wild, loves pulling pranks, wild, always saying stuff to mess with people, wild, and there’s a ton of nasty rumors—true or not—that she leans into to scare people for fun, the wild jerk… But that’s not all she is.”

Glenn rattled off the list in one breath, unusually talkative.

“I mean… she’s got a kind side too, sometimes… And, well, she took care of me, a complete stranger, single-handedly since I was a kid… Her strength and pride as a mage… I, uh, kinda respect it… or at least, I think it’s pretty impressive…”

But as he went on, his words grew halting, and he started scratching his head.

“Anyway, if she wasn’t like that, I’d have ditched her place ages ago.”

Glenn shrugged, tossing out the words gruffly.

“Hehe…”

Rumia giggled, watching him.

“…What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing… It’s just, you really care about her, don’t you, Sensei? Professor Arfonia, I mean.”

“Wha—!?”

Glenn froze at Rumia’s innocent remark.

“Having someone you care about rejected by everyone… that’s gotta hurt, right?”

“…Wh-What…?”

“You were probably worried about her, weren’t you? That’s why…”

Then,

“What’re you blabbering about, huh!? I don’t care! Not one bit! Besides, you think she’d sweat the small stuff like that!? C’mon, seriously—!”

Glenn, red-faced and childishly indignant, frantically denied it.

Rumia watched him with an endlessly fond smile.

Eventually, the carriage carrying the group rolled westward across the gently undulating grasslands.

Swaying leisurely along…

As the slanting sun dipped toward the distant mountain ridge, the ruins finally appeared before them.

Above, the twilight sky glowed like translucent garnet.

In the distance, a range of peaks tinged beautifully with crimson; at their base, a lake sparkled with chaotic reflections.

Below, a vast grassland blazed in the hues of dusk.

At the edge of a sheer cliff, the highest point in the area, closest to the sky, offering a breathtaking view of the scenery…

There, the temple stood… silently presiding.

“That’s… [Taum Astronomical Temple], huh…”

A massive, hemispherical main hall built of stone, surrounded by countless pillars. Intricate, swirling geometric patterns were etched densely across its stone walls.

The temple, constructed in a distinctive architectural style, held its own against the overwhelming beauty of the backdrop, asserting its undeniable presence.

“…[Taum Astronomical Temple]… I’ve finally made it…”

Sistine murmured, gazing at the temple with deep emotion.

Not just Sistine—every student who laid eyes on its grandeur was awestruck by its mysterious aura and commanding presence.

“…Hey, c’mon, you lot. No time to stand around gawking.”

Breaking the spell, Glenn clapped his hands and began issuing orders.

“We’ll start the real investigation tomorrow. For today, we’re camping here. Guys, set up the tents. Lynn, Teresa, prep dinner. Celica, set up a protective barrier around the campsite, just in case. White Cat, Wendy, assist her. Rumia, tend to the horses. Re=L, patrol the area and check for dangerous magical beasts. If you find any, take ’em out, no hesitation. And me, I’ll—”

Displaying sharp leadership, Glenn swiftly issued instructions, then abruptly flopped onto the ground, lying flat.

“…I’m exhausted, so I’m gonna sleep… Wake me up when dinner’s ready, alright~? Yawn… Good night…”

“《Get off your lazy butt・and do some work・already!》—!”

“GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH—!?”

Sistine’s improvised Black Magic [Gale Blow] sent Glenn flying.

“《Making everyone else・do all the work・what kind of person are you!?》—!?”

“I give! I give! I’m sorry! My bad! I got a bit carried away—! Hiii—! No lightning, please, I beg you—!?”

The scene instantly erupted into chaos.

Celica cast an affectionate glance at Glenn and the others, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“…”

She turned her attention back to the Taum Astronomical Temple.

“…‘Taum Astronomical Temple’… If it’s here, then perhaps…”

Her expression was unusually heavy, as if weighed down by deep thoughts.

Celica murmured to no one in particular, her words barely audible.

—At the same moment, in a certain place.

“…You’ve come, Celica…”

In a darkness so profound it seemed to swallow everything, like an abyss painted black.

That otherworldly being, too, murmured to no one in particular, their voice a fleeting whisper.