Amidst the grim dark mist, Boail hailed supreme in his stance, standing tall over the exhausted soldiers. Unsurprisingly, barely any wanderers were left standing. All the paladins did—sweat ran down their foreheads—it was as though something crawled on their skin.
Noel clasped his chest, drops of cold sweat ran down his chin as he stared at the ground, his heart and body shaking in terror. Noel wasn't the type to judge, but even he thought that Boail seemed intimidating, and now, downright terrifying.
What the…
Casting a quick gaze at his surroundings, his classmates had fallen to their knees, some tipped over, hugging themselves on the training ground. Even David, whom he thought was pretty mentally strong, shook as he hyperventilated. Miu was unconscious, and the only other wanderer who was still on their feet was Emely. She clasped a dark crystal bow tightly—black, shadowy thorns surrounded her. From the looks of things, nobody came out unscathed and was left with some kind of psychological damage.
Dragging his feet, Noel stomped the ground, a gush of wind burst beneath him and scattered the mist—a divine blade had materialized in his hand. But… It was different. Instead of a light green blade humming, it was a double-edged claymore radiating scorching heat. It was surprisingly light for its size, but he wasn't going to dwell on it.
Urk… I'm pissed. I know this is training and all, but is it really necessary? He thought, casting Luna a somewhat resentful gaze.
Even though he questioned her training method before, she'd gone too far this time. Besides pushing them beyond exhaustion, did she also have to torment them psychologically?
"…"
He already knew the answer to that question. Even if he didn't like the answer, he knew Alum would do the exact same thing had they never left the plains. Rather… because it would've been life or death, Alum would've literally cleaved scars into them. In fact, he was already ready to play the bad guy to harden them so that Noel could take over as a more benevolent leader.
Just thinking about reminded him how dark the character of his friend is. Not only was he morally questionable, but also downright ruthless. Still, he couldn't fault him—
"For those who passed—brace yourselves," Boail said, his voice deep, murky—the vibrations alone coursed through their bones, sending shivers down their spines.
Noel gripped the sword tighter, clearing his mind of thoughts. The soldiers left standing, the paladins and Emely exchanged glances—before long, they'd dashed in front of Emely and the other mages. Those with shields were at the very front, then swordsmen between them, and the mages in the back.
"Fast. Very good," Boail mused. "But… what if I acted?" he inquired.
Just as he spoke those words, claws protruded from the back of his hand. He stepped forth, and the ground shook. In a swift swing that made the air scream, he launched blades of wind.
The solderers raised their shields, mages cast protective barriers—BOOM! The attack connected and created a dust cloud. Boail was nowhere to be seen, and so, Noel cleared the dust—but the sight horrified him. Boail had gathered the fallen in one place and imprisoned them in an ice cage.
"In survival, it is crucial to rid oneself of dead weight—but is there honor in leaving comrades behind?" he spoke, knowing the guilt will gnaw at them.
"Keep calm, it's a test—" but as the paladin Sharan spoke, the visceral image of mutilated corpses inside the cage came into view.
"Ah-aahhhh!?" the soldiers cried—their formation broke as they charged towards Boail.
Tears streamed down their eyes as spells were fired, bodies were enhanced, and arrows and gunshots were fired. Noel stood there, his expression blank—this can't be real… He knew it wasn't, and that it was an illusion, yet, his body boiled with desperate rage—Miu…!
Even the paladins who didn't know the soldiers or wanderers very well were enraged—Isa launched herself with explosive energy at Boail. However… Boail wasn't an easy opponent. The barrages of spells, magic bullets, and arrows were brushed off by a flick of a finger or bounced off his tough scales.
Boail caught a sword from one of the soldiers, and twisted his arm before throwing him at the group. Another soldier was swept away by his tail—if it weren't for the facility's protective barrier, she would've been cleaved in half. Isa, on the other hand, jumped to dodge his tail, but was caught by the waist and thrown into the barrage of arrows and spells.
However, Sharan covered for her with his shield as Voltz and Solfie readied themselves to cast powerful gravity magic. Mekkahn, on the other hand, covered for them with barrages of lightning arrows, as did Emely. Her arrows crystallized on impact, slowing Boail just for a moment.
Noel, despite the anger in his chest, waited for an opportunity to strike—and it presented itself when Solfie and Voltz activated a gravity field. The ground beneath Boail crumbled from the weight, and his movements became more bearable. His tail wasn't as obnoxious, and his side-steps were slower; his grabs and slashes could be blocked—
"NOW!" the soldiers screamed after successfully surrounding Boail.
Despite being new to this world, Noel was quite strong in the eyes of the natives—even if he was way less proficient in magic than they were, it was undeniable that he and Emely had quite the destructive capabilities.
Fully charged, Noel's blade glowed a reddish-orange—[Thermal Overcharge]. In a swift, explosive dash, Noel propelled himself toward Boail—his muscles were burning from the excessive amount of body enhancement, his mind light as his vision a bit blurry—KABOOOM!
A massive explosion erupted, blowing everyone away. The heat scorched them slightly, despite being protected by barriers and shields. As the steam cleared, they saw Noel still holding onto his sword. The cut was deep into Boail's hand, and crimson blood trickled down the beastman's arm.
Exhausted, Noel was left stunned as he was locked into Boail's red diamond-shaped eyes. "Not bad," Boail said and grabbed the sword, pulling it out with Noel still clasping it. As he gently put Noel down onto the ground, his wound rapidly regenerated despite having been torched by flames. "But, you should've known it was a false sense of security."
"But even still…" Noel gasped a few words, flashing an exhausted grin.
Boail looked at the cage where he'd captured the fallen wanderers and soldiers—they'd been freed. A smile tugged at his face. "Hah-haha-haa…" he laughed, almost satisfied with the outcome. "A selfless hero… are we?" he voiced, materializing a massive greatsword.
Noel flinched. "I'm not selfless…" he muttered, his confident grin returned. "After all… I'm willing to take advantage of someone's kindness…" he added, then glanced passed Boail.
Before he'd realized it, his dominion of murky blue mist that induced existential dread fully cleared. His eyes followed Noel's, and there stood a Saint, her eyes pinkish amethyst eyes were filled with focus and contempt, her silver-gray hair tinted purple due to mana—so it was she who dissolved my dominion.
"Commander Boail, this is too much." Amethely's voice was clear as her crystal gaze, she pointed an elegant, light, pastel-yellow double-edged sword with a rectangular texture at him. A pinkish-purple light coursed through the crevices between the tiny rectangles toward the tip, coating the edges in her light.
"…"—Hm, I was going to end the session after revealing they never stood a chance… But… how often does one get to duel Lady Saint? Then… I needn't hold back.
"I know our ideals do not match, however…" Amethely tightened the grip of her divine sword. "I cannot stand and watch anymore—this isn't training—it's torment!"
Meeting Amethely's sharp eyes, Boai's brows lowered slightly—his heart thumped with anticipation, his blood boiling in excitement as mana levels surged.
"And how will you stop me? With words?" he taunted lightly.
Amethely's expression winced a little. "Yes, but you will not, will you?" she asked, already knowing the outcome.
"—Then stop me."
—Swosh!
In the blink of an eye, Boail disappeared—he'd clearly been holding back his power and speed. A massive boom echoed as his giant blade smashed onto the training ground—Amethely had shifted her body so slightly and was about to slice off his arm—but Boail's tail was already in trajectory towards her.
She deflected the tail with the side of her sword and swiftly cut it off—as she did, Boail's blade was already about to cleave her in half. Amethely adjusted her posture and braced herself for impact—but their swords never connected, as Boail kicked her on the side instead, sending her tumbling before swiftly smashing her down to the ground. Not breaking posture, Amethely blocked the attack, her muscles screamed from sheer pressure, and it felt as though her legs were about to break. Leaning her blade to the side a little, Boail's massive sword crashed down.
She quickly repositioned herself, but yet another explosive burst of attacks came her way—she'd deflect each one without being able to counter. Boail's brute strength was too overwhelming, and his speed was comparable to hers—in raw swordsmanship, they were equals, but in terms of the ability to use mana, Boail was far superior—besides that, nobody could even keep up with the sheer speed and brute force of the two.
Amethely knew she shouldn't have stepped in or used magic at all in her current state. Despite knowing it, she dispelled a powerful dominion and even enhanced her physical capabilities, just not to get crushed.
But at the same time, Boail's barrage of attacks slowed down—he must've realized she couldn't use magic properly, and with a final blow, his massive dark crystal divine sword shattered.
"As expected… You are too kind, Lady Saint, still holding back," he sighed, disappointed that Amethely didn't enter her ascension state.
Even though it was a slight misunderstanding, Amethely was relieved that he stopped the relentless attacks. Her body was burning up from the strain of her broken mana foundation—she assumed the high commander knew about her state, but fighting him, she now knew that, besides Rigeld, Luna, and Chely, only Alum was aware of her current state.
As Boail began to walk, he calmly spoke, "You are right, Lady Saint," then looked passed her. "Our ideals greatly differ—which is why. This is not a place you belong," he added.
"…" Amethely's divine blade slowly dematerialized as she averted her gaze. "Even so… this is where I am. I may not belong. But nowhere in the training curricula does it state this level of training," she retorted.
"Hahaha…" Boail laughed and looked down at her. "Very well… welcome to the military, Lady Saint," he warmly said, a hand on his chest out of respect. Mana disappeared as he shrank to his normal size.
"Thank you…" Amethely replied, smiling elegantly, yet her eyes burned with determination as Boail left the barrier.
Thus, concluding training.
…
..
Later in the evening, in the labs, Amethely didn't seem as enthusiastic, and the other researchers noticed. Even though she diligently worked as usual with the test results, and looked at one of the smaller devices. Its name was 'earbud,' and it was similar in functionality to that of a C-shell. There were quite a few of them, which made it easier to take a few to experiment on.
Amethely heaved a small sigh—a very uncharacteristic gesture, considering she was always elegant and poised. Worried for their saint, they decided to chase her out of the lab.
Somewhat relieved, Amethely hazily gazed at the elevator door as the blinking crystals shifted each floor she passed, eventually reaching the ground floor. Her body was burning hot, and cold sweat ran down her back. She felt oddly weak and sluggish, even stumbling a little. Fortunately, nobody was around; it was for the better. She didn't want anyone to worry—she had caused this herself.
But that was until she saw a familiar face, panting slightly, seeming to be in a rush. "Amethely…" he called her name, his voice soothing, easing the pain in her joints just a little—Amethely…? Her eyes widened as her name echoed in her mind. Why is he calling me by name…? Does he dislike me now…? No… I don't want that… Attacked by a stinging pierce in her heart, Amethely, her chest, tears almost streamed down her face as she withheld them.
"I heard about what happened…" Alum spoke, approaching her slowly. "Huh?" His eyes widened as he saw her complexion—her face was completely red, her eyes hazy, and she seemed out of breath. "You're sick…" he said, touching her forehead.
"E-ehehe… a little…"
"…" Alum didn't know what to do—he didn't know she could be so stubborn. And it didn't take a genius like him to figure she was more than 'just a little sick.'
Amethely averted her eyes, pouting a little. "I'm fine…" she said, clearly knowing she wasn't. But before Alum could point it out, she asked, "Why… why did you use my name…? Do you dislike me now…?" she asked, peering into his eyes with shaky and anxious pupils.
However, Alum wasn't having it. "You're clearly not feeling well," he sighed. "Besides, you're silly, thinking I dislike you for calling you by name—rather, it's the opposite. I thought it'd sound nice calling you by name occasionally, is that bad?" he added, scratching his cheek.
"Nn…" Amethely lightly shook her head. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding… Alum." A weak smile bloomed on her face.
"…" Seeing her smile, even his worried expression melted a little. "I'll walk you back," he said, scooping her off her feet.
"…" Amethely quietly let him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Alum… can we sleep together…?" she impulsively suggested. "W-w-wait…" but then quickly backtracked. "I-I-I…" yet, didn't have enough energy to.
Alum contemplated for a second before saying, "I don't mind," after going through a few dozen simulations inside his head. They were lovers now, after all. However, even when they sleep, assumptions about something else will probably surface. Even if intercouse between newly blossomed couples isn't uncommon in this world, the standard had to be considered as most 'new' lovers already knew each other for years before becoming a couple, and Alum and Amethely were just strangers not too long ago.
I don't know whether she's too naive or innocent sometimes…
"R-really…? You don't think it's… too soon?" She innocently peered into his eyes.
"Well, we've already slept side by side, haven't we?" Alum replied somewhat teasingly.
"That is… certainty true…" Amethely giggled, her brain a little mushier than before.
"Besides, word won't get out, I assure you."
"…I'm sorry… I've just caused you trouble…" she said, her voice faint.
Alum kissed her on the forehead—his heart fluttered a little, but he unknowingly made Amethely melt into a mess; as if she wasn't already from being sick and lovestruck at the same time.
"I don't mind. People cause you trouble all the time—what's it for me when you barely inconvenience me a little? Rather, not at all," he stated, but then…
—Chu…
A tiny sound echoed in his ears; he felt a soft and warm sensation on his neck. Stunned, he looked at the girl who covered her face.
"…"
"I-it was unfair…" Amethely's voice muffled through her hands. "-I feel weak and can't kiss your forehead… I hope… um… one on the neck was okay too…" she stammered—her voice almost listless.
In a way, Alum was glad Amethely covered her face—he couldn't have her see him in this state—even he didn't know what sort of face he was making.
..
While carrying Amethely back to his room, Alum recalled the conversation he had with Boail before rushing down to floor level when Rigeld was notified that Amethely looked sick.
"Oh? Here I thought you would be more upset with me—I wondered if I had ruined our friendship, Alum, ahaha…" Boail lightly chuckled awkwardly. "But I feel bad though—I was not aware her mana foundation was broken, and yet, she managed to dispel a dominion…"
"…" Alum quietly sipped his tea as he looked at the report about an outbreak of dark manabeasts in the east. "I'm not particularly upset. I'm aware of her strength, and I'd only be a hypocrite for feeling upset," he voiced, as he continued to compile data from other sources. "Rather, perhaps a little disappointed and worried."
"Hm, disappointed? Would you elaborate?" Boail asked, signing sick leave papers.
"Well… to start with, I'm worried for her. But I know she's fine with a broken mana foundation, and… I'm disappointed in myself, I suppose."
"…?" Boail raised his brow a little. "Why so?"
"That I don't disagree with your and Luna's method. I thought that maybe, that maybe I've changed. In a way, I have. And in a way, I haven't," he stated coolly.
"I suppose that's true," Rigeld shrugged and leaned back on his chair. "You've changed since you arrived—but also since before, right? However, that doesn't mean you've done so fundamentally—you still view the world a certain way, despite also seeing what others see." But he shifted his gaze toward the sofa, where Luna was reading a book. "Though it seems like someone's shook their idol's thought negatively about them," he chuckled, finding it ironic.
"Please be quiet, Uncle," Luna hissed.
But as he was about to tease her, he was notified about Amethely. "Al, you should go see Lady Amethely—hurry, floor zero elevator three," he said urgently.
Alum shot up from his seat and rushed, causing Luna to sigh. "Were you teasing him?" she inquired.
"Not quite," Rigeld grinned.
"…" Boail exchanged a glance with Luna, both seemed a little anxious for their saint.
…
..
Arriving in his plain room, he put Amethely down gently on the bed—she'd already fallen asleep, yet her breathing was somewhat ragged. He knew why, but wasn't sure what to do about it.
"Ame…" he called out to her softly. "Um… your bandage…"
"Nn?" Fading in and out of consciousness, Amethely opened her eyes. "Nn… remove them?" she sheepishly suggested.
"Okay…" he reluctantly agreed—he thought about getting Chely's help, but was reminded she was with Noel.
"I-it's e-embarassing… but it's okay… It's you, Al," she smiled shyly, presumably not even thinking about what she was saying.
"…" Alum mentally slapped himself in the face. "Got it." And with an indifferent expression, he removed her veil, unbuttoned her blouse, and began to undo her bandage—it didn't even take ten seconds before she could breathe comfortably again. But then…
"Al…"
"…"
"…"
Moments later.
"Huh…?" Amethely was dazed, not only from being sick, but also from confusion. She remembered feeling hot and struggling to breathe. But now, she felt lightheaded but didn't feel all that hot anymore—her fever had gone down a little. Then… she saw her dress and blouse hanging by a nearby chair. In the next instance, she realized that a damp towel was on her forehead as well as the warmth of someone's hand.
—Flip
Alum was by the bedside, holding a book with one hand and her own with the other. "Huh? Feeling better—mm, never mind, you're all red—"
"Th-th-that's not it…! I-I'm embarrassed, is all!" Amethely exclaimed, clutching his hand but also the quilt.
"Then… I see. I'm glad you're all better," Alum smiled, his face slightly flushed as well.
"You're not… sick as well, are you…? Al?" Amethely asked, her chest tightened.
"No. Well… you know? I'm feeling a little shy too…"
"O-oh… hehe, that makes me happy," Amethely giggled, her smile so bright and adorable he almost forgot who he was. But then, she pulled and squeezed his hand. "Al, aren't we going to sleep together?" she added, leaning her head innocently, silver strands brushed over her eyes ever so slightly while draping down her exposed neck.
"I did… say that."
"Ehehe~ yay, cuddles—"
"No," Alum stated.
"…"
"…"
Suddenly, Amethely shattered. As a confused, "huh?" escaped her lips. "Why?!" she protested.
"Well, you're hot already—so it wouldn't help. But, but, I could sleep next to you and hold your hand."
But she still retaliated and sulked, her cheeks puffed slightly. "What's the point if I can't hug youuuu~?" she huffed.
"…"
Will she even remember this…? If she does, I can already tell a blushing mess to come when she wakes up…
He flashed her a smile, but on the inside—how can I not be enraged after seeing her like this?