Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

12 – *Edited* If This Is the Reward…

“..Shit.”

The unfamiliar ceiling told me

everything I needed to know about the outcome of that duel.

And simultaneously, a curse spilled

from my lips of its own accord.

I was going to have to see that b*stard’s face,

over and over again.

That son of a b*tch who insulted my mother, Leon Benil.

“..Should have ground him into dust before he even arrived.”

Throwing off the blanket that covered me in a

fit of rage,

I shot straight up,

and the scent of various medicines

immediately assaulted my nostrils, as if on cue.

“..The infirmary?”

“You know where you are, then?”

Unlike the other professors, this one

wore a white coat:

Professor Fred, who oversaw the infirmary.

Of course I know where I am.

I myself am quite acquainted with the infirmary.

“So, you know why you’re here, don’t you?”

“…Yes.”

“There’s nothing seriously wrong with you.

Just treated some bruising.”

“….”

“Once you’re up, the Chairman wants you to

come see her, go on now.”

What the goddamn hell.

Knocking a person unconscious, and then

asking them to come see you.

My estimation of her plummeted in my heart, utterly helpless.

“..Shit.”

“Did you just curse the Chairman?

Didn’t take you for such a firebrand.”

“..I’ll be going then.”

“Alright~”

If there was a good thing, it was the gazes.

From the eyes that had followed me for six years,

filled with loathing and contempt,

now a flicker of fear and terror could be seen.

Of course, I wasn’t accustomed to that kind of gaze either,

but it was far more comfortable than directly receiving that loathing.

“..Ugh, shit.”

I’m not usually someone who curses this much.

I got up, finished all the preparations,

and left the infirmary.

My footsteps headed directly toward the Chairman’s office.

Having been there before,

I was able to find it without getting lost.

“Welcome. I’ve been expecting you.”

“..Where is Leon?”

*Grind-*

*Grind-grind-*

How much I gritted my teeth

on the way here, they don’t even grind so well anymore.

If only I could have done something, anything, about that b*stard,

none of this would have happened.

“I’ve issued him a suspension.”

“I doubt I’ll be back for a while.”

“…Ha, you stop him from killing, and

all you hand down is a suspension?”

I was about to grab my dagger again,

and bolt right back out there, when something,

a transparent force, began to bind my legs,

and I knew instinctively it was the Director’s power.

“So hasty. Why don’t you sit down and we can at least talk.”

“…Release me.”

“Either way, there’s no

pretext left anymore.”

You of all people should know that, shouldn’t you?

In that instant, I nearly lost it again,

and lunged at her.

Who ruined the chance and the pretext, now you’re saying that…?!

“…Wouldn’t it be better to resolve this through conversation?”

“Haa…”

“What sort of tea would you like? We have black tea, or coffee.”

“…Coffee, please.”

The Director snapped her fingers as soon as I finished speaking,

and instantly, coffee that looked freshly brewed

filled a teacup

and flew to me.

“There’s no poison, so feel free to drink it without worry.”

“…Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“If it wasn’t funny, my apologies.”

“…Hah, what is it you want to say?”

I breathed out a small sigh, and then

plunked myself down in the seat right in front of the Director.

She handed me something as if she’d been waiting just for that.

“I told you I’d open the Treasure Vault for you, didn’t I?”

“…Yes, and back then I

clearly told you I wanted that b*stard’s life in return.”

“…Haha.”

The Director gave a sheepish laugh.

It was an answer laden with the intent to avoid giving an answer.

What in the world is so special about the Benil family

that the Director is acting like this?

Even interfering in a duel of honor?

“…It couldn’t be that she’s been caught by some weakness.”

Surely, someone of the Ninth Circle wouldn’t be incapable of handling such a trivial weakness.

“…Is it because of the donation?”

“…I would appreciate it if you could mutter to yourself a little less audibly.”

“….”

“In any case, after examining the vault… this seemed the most suitable.”

“…?”

Between her slender, elegant fingers,

a small, black, cube-shaped block was visible,

radiating an ominous aura, as if daring anyone to touch it.

“A relic, a cursed clockwork… so it is said.”

“…How is this supposed to help me—”

“You might be able to meet your mother.”

The son of a b*tch.

I immediately overturned the

table in front of me and lunged forward,

a hand axe, forged god knows when, in my grasp.

I didn’t much favor that tool, as it tended to severely mutilate corpses,

but I wasn’t in the mood to quibble about such things now.

*Whoosh*

Splitting the table, still suspended in the air,

in two,

my hand axe rained down on her like a storm…

“Fighting without the permission of a faculty member

is a violation of school regulations.”

It was never going to connect.

My opponent was one of the most renowned archmages in the Empire.

“…I admit I misspoke,

so please put down your weapon.”

“…Fucking hell.”

“Profanity is also a violation of school regulations… but I shall overlook it.”

*Click*

The moment she snapped her fingers,

the surrounding objects

began to float erratically in the air,

even the table I had cleaved in half

reassembled itself perfectly and returned to its original position.

“A magical artifact capable of manipulating souls…”

“That, is the artifact’s true nature…”

“…”

“Isn’t it possible,

that you might see your mother again?”

“..You’re offering this, in exchange for that b*stard’s life?”

Considering the exceptionally

delicate nature of its handling,

I am experiencing some

difficulty convincing the professors…

But, if I can prove that I possess the power to handle this artifact without issue.

“Then I can give it to you, by all means.”

“..How am I supposed to prove my power?”

“Well… perhaps you could

show me during this midterm evaluation.”

Ding-dong-dang-dong─

I wanted to ask more questions, but

unfortunately, at that very moment, the bell rang, signaling the start of class,

and the director, having said he would take care of it and not to worry, told me

to return to the classroom, so I reluctantly left the room.

“..Midterm evaluation, huh.”

Of course, naturally, I was late to class.

Professor Philian, who was lecturing on the history of the Empire,

was absolutely furious,

and as punishment, I was now in the position of having to

transcribe and submit the entire history lesson for inspection.

‘..Said it would be okay..son of a b*tch..’

*

At that same time,

A person responsible for a core aspect of the Empire’s education.

The head of an institution that produces countless talents.

One of the few 9th Circle mages within the Empire.

Luine Descartes was lost in deep thought.

‘Certainly, his brutish nature has disappeared, but…’

His eyes, in the director’s office just the other day,

were clearly less lively than I had seen before.

They were slightly similar to the eyes of people who had endured tremendous pain on the battlefield and somehow survived.

At the time, I simply dismissed it as a mistaken impression.

But yesterday and today,

His vitality had dwindled to an infinitesimal point,

and his once-black eyes had clouded, tinged with gray.

What could have changed him so drastically?

Was it alright to just leave him be like this?

And what troubled her even more was

‘There was clearly no hesitation…’

His dagger and hand axe,

they flew true, aimed precisely at Leon’s head.

If she hadn’t released the dispel and

deployed the shield at the same instant,

she herself would have been in danger.

An attack too fierce for a mere student to withstand.

No matter that a duel of honor permitted bloodshed…

Knowing murder from words on parchment and

actually deciding to commit it, those are worlds apart.

Yet he targeted the head without a flicker of hesitation.

Had he perhaps become more dangerous?

Was giving him the artifact the wrong choice?

“Please… I pray my choice was not a mistake.”

Praying her decision hadn’t been wrong,

she buried herself in stacks of documents again today,

working to adjust the midterms.

*

“Never again… will I trust the Headmaster’s words.”

Only after finishing all the notes and

having them checked could she return to her dorm.

This small room, now almost cozy.

Inside it, she took out the object she would study all day.

The artifact she received from the Headmaster.

[Cursed Clockwork Mechanism]

You can’t just use an artifact the moment you obtain it.

All artifacts present the person who tries to wield them with a trial called assimilation.

The reason artifacts come into being is the desires of

their former owner or user.

The unfulfilled cravings, grudges, and so on, of someone when they were alive,

they gather and give the object the ability to project them.

Something is created without offering a sacrifice in return.

Due to this phenomenon, which violates the laws of physics,

space is distorted, and

Beings of darkness are born.

And thus, gates come into existence.

This is why artifacts are found only within the gates.

And naturally, they will try to dominate their user

to fulfill the desires dwelling within,

merging the user with their past lusts, grudges,

and the emotions they felt in life.

That is the trial known as ‘Assimilation’,

and the reason why there are so few artifact users.

“Judging by how it grants control over souls…it must have many vengeful spirits attached…”

Losing one’s mind while attempting

Assimilation wasn’t uncommon,

so I decided to proceed with caution.

Besides, even if Assimilation is successful,

the odds of having to return it were high

if I didn’t get an excellent score on the midterm evaluation.

Handing back something I’d managed to Assimilate felt too regrettable, didn’t it?

“If I can just…get past the midterm.”

Perhaps I could see my mother again.

Assuming the Director’s words weren’t a lie.

The midterm evaluation was still a little ways off,

so I had to find a teammate,

somehow, if possible, before then.

Children my age, 17,

would be evaluated as part of the Academy’s senior class.

The more teammates, the better,

but unless they were someone I could trust and rely on,

they weren’t really that necessary.

Well, I was confident in my ability to survive, anyway.

‘Besides, I don’t have any friends to begin with.’