How to Survive at the Academy

Glast’s Subjugation War (9)

– “So, become strong.”

– “To you, who became the final period of my life, I dedicate the last sentence of this book.”

– “Lucy.”

The last page of the grand mage Glast’s compendium.

Though now a memory faded by time, it was an unforgettable one.

The girl had no choice but to accept it as she closed that last page next to Glast’s remains.

The grand mage, who had achieved such a monumental legacy, had anticipated how his sole family and disciple would face his death.

More than anyone, Glast himself had accepted death, embraced it, and calmly awaited it as evidence. Thus, the girl too had no choice but to let him go.

A day when I can sprawl out carefree, laughing about things lost as merely past pains—will it come?

The girl with her brittle white hair streaming down left Glast’s cabin, and that’s where her memory ends.

On the day she started her journey. She couldn’t quite remember the weather.

*

The powerful magic tower stretches straight up into the sky as if to pierce it.

From the subterranean channel leading inside, scarlet magic surges up like spring water, ready to consume all who approach.

Considering the amount and origin of the magic flowing within, it seems that Taely’s party has entered the Saintly Studies’ research raid on Kum.

I hope they break through quickly. But Kum is a time-consuming boss. There’s no straightforward way to counter it, and one must endure its attacks until being consumed by its saintly magic.

As I say this, I realize my situation is quite similar.

I have no intention of stepping aside from this subterranean channel entrance before Taely concludes the final battle.

None shall ascend to the stage on my watch; I stand firm, repelling all comers.

– Sshrrk

– Whoosh!

Mercenaries all draw their weapons in unison. I quickly take in the situation.

This mercenary band is of a different caliber from the one that appeared during the Ophelius incident.

At that time, they quickly gathered whoever was available for just one night.

But now, this is Elte’s final strategy, fully prepared with ample time.

Each mercenary’s bearing is extraordinary in comparison.

Unlike the previous mercenaries lacking in discipline and uniformity, their movements are systematic, their weapons meticulously kept, and their shiny armors rival the royal guards’.

Moreover, each one is a seasoned veteran around middle-aged. Most are retired soldiers or experts whose experience easily spans more than a decade. Scars on their forearms and along their faces attest to their seasoned expertise.

Their number seems to just exceed fifty. All skilled veterans.

Such forces are arrayed against just four students, but not once do they grow complacent or lose formation.

For convenience’s sake, they might be divided into infantry, magic soldiers, and archers, but that’s just a simplification—these veterans are adept with various weapons.

“Other than Lortelle, life or death is inconsequential. Finish swiftly and quietly.”

Before the words are fully out, an old swordsman at the front of the infantry lunges off the ground.

With swift and precise judgment, he must be the leader of the infantry.

He completes his assessment of the enemy’s strength in an instant, his sword aimed straight at my neck.

He clearly identifies me as the most crucial member of the opposing party, likely due to me leading the conversation and position. And yet, my defenses are far from impenetrable. I’m the perfect target.

Elte’s words had distracted everyone, and he planned to seize his opponent from the top ranks. It reflected the reflexes earned from a long career.

– Clang!

But the sword does not reach me.

Blocking it is Yenika’s staff, swathed in her characteristic sturdy earth elemental defense magic.

Having already perceived Yenika’s defense spell, I hadn’t budged.

The mercenary leader, realizing his strike was in vain, quickly kicked off the ground to gain distance again.

Yenika stretched out her hand to summon a fire elemental to stop him, but arrows enchanted with magic struck Yenika’s shields instead.

Support arrows from the archer group helped their allies penetrate the line. While Yenika was momentarily stiffened by the hit, the infantry leader managed to increase the distance and slip back into formation.

“Ugh…!”

Yenika flicked her hand, casting off the arrows before quickly checking if I was unharmed.

“Thanks, Yenika.”

“Be careful, Ed. Their movements are definitely coordinated.”

The archers disappear one by one into the shadows of the forest, their unpredictable arrows pressing us to keep up our defenses.

To fight with defense magic up feels like battling while carrying a heavy stone.

Defense magic should be conjured at the right moment when needed, not worn constantly like a shield. Such spells typically lack mana efficiency.

We must be vigilant; an arrow could strike the back of our heads at any moment. The pressure is substantial.

“Indeed, elementalists can be quite troublesome.”

Elte has already witnessed Yenika’s abilities.

Naturally, having known the enemy’s capabilities, she wouldn’t come unprepared.

Elte pulls out a scroll and reveals it. A complex magic circle is drawn on it, as large as a gate.

A legendary-grade magical engineering artifact, ‘Belarus’s Prejudice.’

A high-end magical engineering item worth dozens of gold coins per use. Taking its consumable nature into account, it’s quite expensive even among legendary-grade items.

Its function is magic suppression.

An improved version of the night butterfly flower concoction Elvira used.

The night butterfly flower concoction was relatively easy to produce but had a short duration and negligible effects against those with high magic sensitivity.

Elte’s magical engineering artifact is more effective. Its price reflects its ability to suppress magic against even moderately sensitive magic users.

Its effective range is quite limited, and it takes time to activate, with rather obvious preparation—critical flaws—but in the current numerical disadvantage, they’re not significant.

“If that’s activated, it’s over for us.”

Lortelle asserts while reinforcing the magic circle to activate it.

“Most of our power is magical, and if we’re suppressed even for just 10 minutes, we’ll be quickly overpowered.”

“What are the chances of overcoming the mercenary forces before the magical engineering artifact activates?”

“With a well-trained and experienced mercenary band like that, expect a long battle.”

From the start, my goal was to hold out until Taely’s final battle concludes, so time is on our side.

I brushed my hair back and gulped down a breath. Somehow, we have to deal with that magical engineering artifact. Fortunately, a few ideas came to mind.

After all, Elte herself lacks combat skills, so if we can get close, we can subdue her.

As I ponder my approach…

– Whoosh

Suddenly, I feel a tremor, an alert from Lucy on my back.

Lucy places a hand on my shoulder and stretches upright, half-rising. She then looks silently up at the magic tower.

“…”

Even a desperate battle situation felt like mere mosquito buzzing to this girl.

Lucy dusts off her clothes, looking unconcerned as if it was nothing.

With the battle still hanging in the balance, all eyes on us, the girl named Lucy kept her gaze lifted toward the magic tower, embodying the calm before the storm. Her eyes, usually sleepy and dull, were now wide open.

With one hand securing her witch’s hat against falling off, Lucy remained focused on the sky, her attention never diverting to the surrounding mercenaries.

“Lucy.”

I have a suspicion.

Lucy probably instinctively realized what the magic tower teeming with energy was built for.

It would be a mistake to take her vacant and naive appearance as a sign of emptiness within.

Lucy’s knowledge of magic far exceeds that of ordinary people.

Although she doesn’t need to study regularly due to her photographic memory, her knowledge is so vast that it warrants the title of a prodigy.

Considering the magical reaction, the unfathomable scope of saintly magic, and Professor Glast’s actions, it’s clear she has the ability to deduce his intentions.

With a deft motion, Lucy slips off my back and begins looking around. Slowly, magic starts to swirl within her.

*

The overwhelming presence of magical energy beyond limits is like standing at the foot of a towering mountain.

From this proximity, it’s impossible to discern its full scale, which instills even greater fear.

Consequently, an eerie silence lingers in the air.

The mercenaries hesitate to carelessly enter our striking distance.

If we discard our defensive magic to attack, we risk our own casualties, but the mercenary band would also suffer significant damage.

Lortelle wields middle-tier magic with ease, and Yenika can summon high-level elementals.

Rather than rushing into an all-out conflict, it’s better to maintain this stalemate while waiting for Elte’s magical engineering artifact to activate. After all, we are the ones who need to make the first move.

It’s a cunning and appropriate response.

If only the power of Elte’s party were exactly as they had surmised.

“I’ve just thought of a place I want to go.”

Lucy dusts off her clothes nonchalantly as if it’s all an afterthought.

He said, “I need to clear a path.”

“…”

According to the original script, Lucy should have been napping on the roof of the Trissiana building.

It wasn’t until after the incident was over that she would wake up from her sleepy stupor, realizing what had happened, and then reflect upon the episode in the second act’s epilogue, thus bringing her role to an end.

However, if Lucy is awakened in Phase 1, she confronts Professor Glast who is trying to escape.

The situation turns into a bad ending when the now fully aware Lucy gets persuaded by Professor Glast’s eloquence to join him.

Lucy alone subdues Taely and her party, and the curtain falls as she quietly enters the underground waterway.

“What’s happening?”

“That, is that a student?”

The magic power circling Lucy skyrockets, overwhelming everyone present.

Even those who have lived long lives have never witnessed such a display of magic power without any preparation or incantation.

The swirling wind is not a natural occurrence. It’s merely a physical byproduct of the unleashed magical power.

But even this storm is hard to withstand, forcing everyone to brace themselves.

The mercenaries swallow their saliva unanimously.

She’s still a student. They won’t be careless, but they believe they have the advantage in strength.

Among the opposing forces, the most dangerous one would undoubtedly be second-year valedictorian Yenika Faelover.

If they handle Yenika’s spirit magic well, they believe they could certainly win.

However, regrettably, the strong adversary isn’t Yenika. No amount of protesting can change that bitter fact.

The wind’s intensity increases.

At the center of the storm is a petite girl.

Clad in a school uniform that doesn’t quite fit, she stands with her collar flapping, a languid sorceress.

Finally, when the girl’s power could no longer spread, it felt almost as though it could swallow the world whole.

-Whistle.

-Boom!

Silence returns.

Like the beginning, there’s no wind, just the tranquil setting of a forest.

The turbulent collars settle down, and only the occasional noise of grasshoppers circles among the guests.

From a storm-whipped sea to the tranquility atop calm, reflective waters, this disparity immobilizes allies and enemies alike, including Yenika and Lortelle.

However, any experienced mercenary knows the truth.

The magical power hasn’t disappeared.

It’s compressed within the small body to its limits. It’s about time they realize what kind of magic Lucy is using. Or rather, it’s not magic at all.

Lucy walks.

Her bouncy stride flutters her sleeves as she heads towards Elte, who is holding an artefact of magical engineering, hopping like a rabbit. Her cheerful walk could be mistaken for a pleasant outing.

But the mercenaries who have caught on to Lucy’s condition cannot block her path.

Instead, the crowd parts along the path she walks.

“What are you all doing? Stop that student! Block her way!”

A startled Elte cries out in urgency.

Despite the tremendous aftershocks of magic, there seems to be no immediate danger.

A small girl with a blank stare is all there is, walking forward.

It’s incomprehensible that dozens of big, burly mercenaries can’t bring themselves to block her path.

At this point, Elte realizes there aren’t many girls who can handle such a vast amount of mana so freely.

She may not know the face, but she’s familiar with the whispers about the girl— the unidentified monster living in Sylvania. The valedictorian of freshman year, Lucy Mayrill, is indeed this girl.

“Have you all gone mad?! Move it!”

“Ugh!”

In the midst of all this, a young-looking mercenary leaps out from the crowd.

His vitality appears robust, which likely means he has less experience than the others.

There’s a fine line between courage and recklessness.

-Clang!

The blade flies but can’t advance any further upon touching Lucy’s pale skin.

It’s like hitting a rock. The mercenary who swung the sword feels a chill surge through his body.

Lucy, without sparing him a glance,

– Plop.

Touches the man’s armor as casually as knocking on a door.

That light touch shatters the armor. Of course, it doesn’t end there.

– Boom!

With a noise like an explosion, the robust mercenary is blown away.

He floats through the air, snagging on a zelkova tree far away. The impact is enough to break several bones.

As it has always been, Lucy—a sorceress—rarely uses combat magic.

It’s hard to call what she does ‘magic.’ It is mere overwhelming physical force… simple violence.

When that vast magic power is maximized and compressed within her body, it creates a physical force that makes any interference with her body impossible.

There are no countermeasures. They do exist, but essentially, they don’t.

That would require infusing an even more overwhelming amount of magic than Lucy’s magic power—clearly an impossibility.

The cruder the method, the cruder the means to deal with it must be. However, any crude method of handling it would depend on the amount of magic power, meaning Lucy’s mana compression is irrefutably unbreakable.

None of the mercenaries move.

They possess a unique pride, born of years surviving dangerous frontiers—they never abandon a comrade or flee from a fearsome enemy.

But that doesn’t mean they can fight.

Therefore, they can only stand helplessly.

“You must be the leader. If I get you, it’s all over.”

Approaching Elte, Lucy speaks with a clear voice, lifting her head.

Elte clenches his teeth and activates the magical engineering device with trembling hands. A power that suppresses mana emanates from Elte’s hands, but Lucy remains unfazed.

You can scoop out seawater, but you can’t scoop it all.

Such a fact is too evident; both Lucy and Elte are resigned to it.

As Lucy reaches out to Elte…

“Hey.”

A blond boy stands between Elte and Lucy. He doesn’t look great, battered from running and tumbling.

“You know, right? You could die.”

Every move Lucy makes while her mana is compressed to the limit is akin to being hit by a truck.

A direct hit to a vital spot or a bad fall could kill instantly.

A mercenary wrapped in layers of armor and safety gear might survive, but Elte, untrained and barely clothed, would die with just one catch from Lucy.

It’s odd. He’s not someone who’d worry over Elte’s life. Even if Elte were to lose his life to Lucy, he’s sure he wouldn’t intervene.

The question reveals his concern isn’t for Elte.

“Can you live with it if you kill?”

Lucy Mayrill, blessed by the Great Mage, carries an unavoidable fate.

It’s a promise made with Glast in life to become a pillar against the calamity that would one day come to Sylvania.

Do not murder.

Avoid staining those small hands with blood at all costs.

Live as a student in Sylvania, at least for a while.

Someday she must awaken and confront the world, but for now, she can enjoy a lazy life, napping in a sunny spot.

But once she draws blood, that life will end. The day she first spills blood is the day Lucy awakens.

Lucy knows this. The blessings of the stars etched into her life are not gifts to be taken lightly.

“Let it be for now.”

Lucy gazes at him with a vacant look.

The tension persists among the mercenaries. She may look like a small girl, but she’s as intimidating as facing a colossal weapon.

She has the power to demolish an entire area if she wishes.

It’s insane to command her with authority in front of such a being… unless one knows who Lucy is.

“Okay.”

As the compressed mana releases, another gust of wind sweeps the area.

After the storm, Lucy’s massive magic power dissipates like smoke.

Disbelief spreads among everyone as they witness Lucy obey the single word command and relinquish all her power.

Ed smacks the back of Elte’s head with the handle of his dagger, captures him, and then holds a knife to his throat.

With Elte’s head as hostage, the situation is resolved.

The mercenaries no longer have the will to fight.

“It’s over now.”

Lucy whispers softly and turns away. As she looks to the sky, the procession of great magic towers is visible.

With the situation here settled, Lucy doesn’t need to stick around Ed any longer.

“Where are you going?”

But Ed Rothtaylor calls out to Lucy.

“I have a place to go.”

Ed Rothtaylor is not one to involve himself deeply in others’ affairs.

Knowing this, Lucy replies simply and doesn’t expect a return question.

“You’re confident you won’t regret it if you go?”

-Hesitation

Pierced by his words as if struck at her core, Lucy stands silently, gazing at the sky.

And then… lowering her gaze, she murmurs a quiet response before… disappearing.

It was high-level spatial magic.

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