Magic Academy Mayhem: A Class Full of Maniacs - Chapter 40

Discussion rose and fell through the stands. On the arena floor, Anonna had been driven into a corner.

She glanced at Saise. His eyes had rolled white from the torment, terror twisting his face as his entire body shook beyond his control.

Irritation churned inside her.

She wanted nothing more than to leave him there. Unfortunately, unless he happened to die in some accident where she could not see him, he would remain her teammate for the next six years.

And as captain, she could not truly stand by and do nothing.

Anonna sighed at last. “We surrender!”

An ordinary team member could speak only for themselves, but a captain’s decision was final and represented the whole team.

The host, who also served as referee, announced the result at once.

“The match is over! Victory goes to Moon Soul Academy’s Eclipse Moon Team!”

The applause was thin and perfunctory. The arguments, on the other hand, had not stopped once since the match began.

Not one of the five people on the field cared what the audience had to say.

Sangmo withdrew his tentacles. Cynthia kicked Saise off to one side, putting the eyesore out of sight and therefore, more or less, out of mind.

She had just burned away the bloodstained glove she had formed from Magic Element when someone stepped in front of her.

The light dimmed. Cynthia lifted her eyes to the young woman before her and waited for her to speak.

Ignoring the grievously injured Saise, Anonna bent at the waist in apology. “I’m sorry. I failed to keep him under control.”

She was apologizing as captain for Saise’s stream of filth at the start of the match.

Before Anonna could bow fully, Cynthia caught her by the arm and forced her upright.

“It wasn’t your fault. Why take the blame?”

Cynthia had never considered herself a good person, but she was not deranged enough to vent her anger on an innocent party.

Anonna seemed not to have expected that response. Surprise flickered in her eyes.

Her gaze lingered on the girl before her, beautiful as some splendid, dangerous flower. After a moment’s silence, she suddenly smiled.

“You’re strong,” she said with perfect sincerity. “I hope we have the chance to fight again. When we do, I’ll use every means at my disposal to take this victory back.”

She made no attempt to conceal her ambition.

Cynthia preferred that sort of temperament to honeyed words and winding insincerity.

She released Anonna’s arm and held out a fist, accepting the challenge. “I look forward to it.”

Anonna bumped her fist against Cynthia’s, as if sealing a promise.

It had nothing to do with victory or defeat.

At that moment, Anonna was profoundly glad that Eclipse Moon Team had been her opponent today.

This battle had washed away her prejudices about the Sequences. It had also erased the contempt for lower Sequences that had been instilled in her since childhood.

What did it matter if someone belonged to a lower Sequence? Once they stood at the same starting line, they deserved to be respected as a true opponent.

After their fists parted, Anonna nodded to the other four and left the arena platform.

*

Watching her go, Eli drawled, “At least that team has one normal person.”

“Aside from that idiot Saise, none of them seemed particularly abnormal.” Cynthia had no desire to keep discussing it. She pointed at the blood running from his shoulder. “Treat that before Richter starts reciting scripture at us.”

Richter, delicate creature that he was, not only had difficulty absorbing medicine but felt pain ten times more acutely than an ordinary person. Since the five of them were rarely without injuries, Cynthia had only recently realized something was wrong.

Richter’s smile was not quite a smile. “…Is our captain finding me tiresome?”

Cynthia turned and headed off the platform. “Of course not. I simply enjoy telling the truth now and then. Don’t read too much into it.”

Richter gave a soft, humorless laugh.

After more than a month together, Eli naturally knew about Richter’s condition. He swallowed a potion before following Cynthia down, while Sangmo and Vernel trailed quietly behind.

*

The moment Cynthia stepped off the platform, a pink little rice dumpling came running straight toward her.

As soon as the girl drew near, however, she deliberately slowed to a composed walk.

Cynthia looked down at Lomita and stopped. “What is it?”

“Ahem. Well…” Lomita adopted an air of great solemnity. “May I add you to my contacts?”

Cynthia stared at her.

And here she had thought it was some matter of national importance.

“Sure. I’ll add you.” Cynthia hid the amusement in her eyes.

The child had approached her again of her own accord. In that case, Cynthia might as well follow through on her earlier idea.

She opened the contact page on her Light Screen and sent Lomita a request.

At the sight of the new contact, the corners of Lomita’s lips crept upward. She promptly forced them back down.

“And… during the holidays and such, this young lady may invite you out, yes?”

Cynthia smiled. “Of course.”

Having obtained the answer she wanted, the half-heart-shaped cowlick atop Lomita’s head bobbed with irrepressible delight.

Cynthia nearly reached out to press it down. She restrained herself only after remembering that Lomita might explode.

Lomita said, with magnificent dishonesty, “Don’t misunderstand. This young lady merely ‘accidentally’ bet on the wrong team and won nearly two thousand points. I’m only inviting you because I dislike owing favors.”

“Mm. I see. How nice.” Cynthia had not listened to a word of it.

She was too busy wondering whether the cowlick was Lomita’s true body.

Under that undisguised scrutiny, even Lomita began to squirm. “I have other matters to attend to. I’ll be going.”

Halfway away, she turned and delivered a threat. “If you dare ignore me, I won’t let you off!”

Cynthia’s eyes curved. “Please, don’t let me off.”

Lomita fell silent.

Her face inexplicably burning, she let out a huff and fled for the second time.

Cynthia watched her retreat, then glanced toward a corner of the second floor.

For some time now, she had sensed a gaze on her—something almost like spying.

At first, she had assumed it was Lomita. Apparently not.

Her eyes swept upward. A white-haired boy leaning against the silver-crystal railing soon came into view.

Rafael…

The instant their gazes met, before Cynthia could make out his expression, Richter stepped in front of her.

“Captain, we should go back.” For some reason, his voice had dropped lower.

“…” Cynthia had no interest in speaking to Rafael anyway. She took the opportunity to look away. “All right. Let’s go.”

She headed for the exit.

Richter glanced up at Rafael by the railing. Seeing the cold disgust in the other boy’s eyes, he gave a scornful laugh and followed her.

He truly had not changed at all.

Still every bit as laughably false.

*

The five figures gradually disappeared into the distance. Standing behind Rafael, Anno had naturally witnessed everything.

Her shock had yet to fade.

How could this be…?

He was on the same team as Lady Cynthia. And that name… what was the meaning of it?

Why had he entered the academy under someone else’s identity, only to end up beside Lady Cynthia of all people?

Could he, too, have learned of the prophecy?

Anno cautiously studied Rafael’s expression.

It was icy and baleful, frightening enough to inspire instinctive dread.

This was the first time the Young Master had shown such an expression since meeting Lady Cynthia.

Anno ventured, “Young Master, should we tell Lady Cynthia about—”

The name nearly slipped out. Anno hurriedly changed course. “—that person’s identity? She does not seem to know who he is. Perhaps he has already learned of the prophecy as well…”

Rafael did not answer.

He stood steeped in darkness so thick it seemed impossible to dissolve, idly turning a silver ring around one finger.

His lashes lowered. The faintest suggestion of a smile rested on his lips. He gazed down at the place where the departing figures had vanished, while in the depths of his narrow, phoenix-shaped eyes lay an abyss no one could fathom.

At last—so long afterward that Anno thought he would never reply—he spoke.

“Let it be.”

His voice was soft and gentle, as though the cold contempt he had displayed a moment ago had been no more than an illusion.

“I’m curious. A defier of gods who mocks fate as he does… will fate ultimately take hold of him and drag him into the very cage he despises?”