During the preparation time, she couldn’t forget his face—how he’d smiled brightly saying he felt like they could win this time. It was so vivid, like it had been burned into her mind.

“Breathe. Slowly.”

When Soli’s breathing grew rough as she explained, Evolaine patted her back. The accident the two had experienced seemed far from ordinary.

“…First I’m hearing of it. If an accident like that happened, it would’ve spread in an instant, yet no one knows.”

They must have deliberately silenced everyone. Otherwise, there was no way they could casually accept new students and conduct classes and practicals like nothing had happened.

“Are you alright, Sir Gais?”

“I’m fine. I’ve seen worse.”

Bitterness seeped from his words. Had he done rough work?

“Dame, do you know the circumstances of the accident?”

“…Could you let Soli rest for a moment?”

Cold sweat drenched Soli’s forehead, seemingly from the pain of recalling the memory.

“Of course.”

They wet a handkerchief in a nearby stream, placed it on Soli’s forehead, and laid Kale’s cloak on the ground for her to lie down.

There was still time before combat, so she needed to rest and recover her strength until then.

After laying Soli down and confirming Cardel had set up a barrier with magic power so she couldn’t hear, Kale finally spoke.

“That day… I did sense something strange.”

The day the accident occurred. Kale, Soli, and Poli had formed a group of three for combat practice.

Since the total number of students in the department was odd at the time, all other groups had four members, but the three of them inevitably formed a group of three.

Taking this into account, the professor finalized the roster on the condition of giving slightly higher base points, then led the students into the forest for mock combat practice.

Nothing seemed unusual even when they were assigned positions by group. They strategized as usual, discussing who would stand in front and what role the person in back would take.

But once combat started, the situation took a strange turn.

“‘Poli’ wasn’t the type to step forward. He was gentle and fearful enough to say he’d rather hide in the back or stand in the rear.”

But that day, as combat began, Poli suddenly changed his mind and said he wanted to stand in front. Even knowing that changing positions meant redoing the entire strategy.

Naturally, since combat had already started, Soli and Kale tried to stop him.

“He insisted strongly, saying he couldn’t just watch from behind this time. We didn’t have time… In the end, Poli and I stood in front and Soli took the rear.”

“Wasn’t it just a change of heart?”

“It wasn’t. Considering the time I’d spent with Poli, it was an action that would’ve required great resolve. But…”

“But?”

“He muttered while staring into space, like something possessed him. ’Finally… I succeeded.’”

Finally succeeded? What did that mean?

Kale must have thought it strange too, because he asked what Poli was talking about, but for some reason Poli reacted sensitively and was reluctant to talk.

Then during combat, a tree suddenly caught fire and a blaze broke out in the forest. In the chaotic scene, Poli ultimately met his death.

“They said the cause of death was inhaling too much smoke. But… I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Soli doesn’t remember, but… I saw it. His face after he stopped breathing was smiling grotesquely… like he was possessed by an evil spirit, like a fanatic… urgh.”

Kale couldn’t finish and ran toward the stream. He’d only thought he was okay—in reality, he wasn’t.

“…This seems more serious than I thought.”

“Tell me about it.”

With trauma this severe, there must have been grueling efforts to pick up the sword again.

Just when he seemed to be getting better, coming back to a place similar to that day must have been bewildering.

In the end, memories of that day were slowly eroding his mind like waves.

“I wonder why Sir Gais thought Poli’s corpse looked like a fanatic.”

“Maybe because it didn’t look normal?”

“Maybe.”

Among countless words, there must be a reason he specifically used ‘fanatic.’ For instance, he might have seen a fanatic before.

Cardel approached Kale, who was shaking water from his wet hair by the stream.

“Sir Gais, have you seen a fanatic before?”

“…Yes.”

“Where?”

“…I briefly did mercenary work before. A request came in to dispose of bodies from an illegal temple. That’s when I saw them.”

“The bodies were fanatics. They must have looked similar to this person Poli.”

“…Correct.”

‘So was Poli a fanatic who believed in a cult?’

“That’s probably not it.”

‘Why?’

“The god that people you define as fanatics believe in is a demon. Illegal temples set up demons as their main deity instead of gods, bewitching and driving people mad. Demons have strong powers of enchantment.”

‘So you’re saying Poli was attacked by a demon?’

“As of now, that possibility is high.”

Then why did the demon target Poli? Even hearing Kale’s explanation didn’t resolve the question. He was only guessing too, not having confirmed anything directly.

“This might not be as simple as we think.”

“…”

Anxiety washed over her. She felt like a massive incident was occurring somewhere beyond their awareness and would soon spill over to them.

Clang— Clang—

The bell rang with tremendous resonance, asserting its presence. As the forest vibrated, startled birds fluttered noisily and flew up into the darkening sky.

“…That’s the bell signaling combat start.”

The time for strategizing was over. Now it was time to begin mock combat.

“Let’s talk about this after class. Dame, let’s go.”

“Yes.”

When Cardel drew his sword, Evolaine also unsheathed hers. Simultaneously, blue magic power surrounded Cardel’s body and sword, and Evolaine’s hair and eye color changed to purple.

“Sir Gais, please protect Miss Magrita. We’ll look around and come back.”

“But…!”

“If it really bothers you, you could come with Miss Magrita during lunch tomorrow.”

Because we still have things to discuss. At Evolaine’s words, Kale’s head dropped.

He knew better than anyone that going with them in his current state would mean he couldn’t concentrate and wouldn’t be helpful.

Kale looked at Soli. Having fallen asleep while resting briefly, she was suffering, sweating coldly. She was moaning, seemingly having a nightmare.

“…Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Dame, stop chatting and hurry up.”

“Yep.”

Kale couldn’t take his eyes off the backs of Evolaine and Cardel as they bickered and moved toward the combat zone.

The two, younger than him, exchanged trivial jokes and warmed up like they weren’t nervous at all.

‘A Magic Swordsman and the Kelic swordsman, was it?’

They hadn’t given him or Soli any looks even after seeing their condition. They simply told them to just survive here, as though the two of them were truly enough.

Could they show such consideration because they were skilled swordsmen? Kale had heard rumors about them too. Though he’d never seen them in person, there must be a reason the media made such a fuss about them.

‘How pathetic.’

Mock combat practice class was time to learn and realize the sense of presence, swordsmanship, and strategic planning skills needed in actual combat.

He felt ashamed of himself for receiving help from younger peers during such time, unable to overcome a single trauma.

“…Kale, where are they?”

“They said they’d look around and come back. Rest more.”

“I’m okay, I’ve rested enough.”

Soli, whose mood also wasn’t good, squeezed the handkerchief Evolaine had given her tightly to wring out the moisture. The dripping water droplets seemed to represent her feelings.

Pathetic, still struggling, pitiful. How long could she live like this?

She’d come to the academy to help pay off her family’s debts even a little. But instead she’d gained trauma and ended up like this—how disappointed would her sisters be?

Whoosh—

Then, light massive enough to shatter her thoughts in an instant filled the darkness-laden forest.

Light more brilliant than anything she’d seen in her life unfolded like a painting along the sword’s trajectory.

Purple light. It was Evolaine’s.

The purple light cut through darkness and drew a long arc. It had tremendous presence, like it was moving alone in a void.

Clang—!

The sharp sound of sword clashing against sword drew everyone’s attention.

“…Dame Evolaine?”

Evolaine, who bore the epithet of Kelic swordsman, was crossing swords with Labro.

“Kugh…!”

When Evolaine’s strike flew at him, Labro’s sword vibrated violently.

Labro Borzenia, the only son of the Marquisate of Borzenia, cherished by his family and a next-generation noble whom even academy professors tried to impress.

He was being easily pushed back by Evolaine, making the rumors seem hollow.

The difference started with basic strength. When their swords clashed, Labro made all kinds of faces trying to withstand her strike.

In contrast, Evolaine charged at him again without her expression changing once and attacked.

“Kugh…!”

Being overwhelmingly dominated by a mere thirteen-year-old girl—it was truly a humiliating sight.

‘Why is she this strong?’

Evolaine’s height was on the shorter side among girls her age, and her body was also thin. Even though she bore the epithet of Kelic swordsman, most students in the Swordsmanship Department took it lightly.

In other words, looking at Evolaine’s outward appearance, she didn’t seem to possess such power at all.

Noticing Labro was thinking other thoughts, Evolaine changed her attack direction.

Labro’s momentum faltered at the unique swordsmanship he was experiencing for the first time in his life.

During combat, Evolaine didn’t use Kelic’s power. The purple glow was just a natural response that followed her as she handled Kelic’s power.

Like breathing was natural for people.

The same went for her hair color changing when she gripped her sword and when she attacked. It was merely proof that she was the Kelic swordsman.

So even though Labro was dueling under equal conditions with Evolaine, he was being one-sidedly beaten.

“I told you to go easy, but you really don’t listen.”