Chapter 11

Screams, blood, shouts, laughter.

And eyes.

“Quil?”

Quilbion flinched and looked at Twella standing beside him.

The sounds that had stopped came flooding back. Students who’d finished their meals were filing out in a line.

“Are you okay?”

Twella looked at him with worry.

“Ah, yeah.”

His voice came out hoarse. Quilbion forced a smile and continued.

“Sorry, what were we talking about?”

He couldn’t forget the morning incident. It floated around in his head like a nightmare. The more he tried to ignore it, the clearer the memory became.

“Hey.”

Twella stopped walking.

“About learning sorcery—won’t you quit?”

“Quit? What are you talking about? You said that before too.”

Sorcery was the solution. Al Terua had said so. That sorcery was the power that made ‘those things,’ including the Sun, exist.

If he understood sorcery, if he mastered sorcery, he might be able to escape from this terrible world.

Give up the only means?

He demanded an explanation with his eyes.

“I’ll learn harder. I think it’s better if you don’t learn.”

“Why are you suddenly saying that?”

Quilbion raised his eyes.

“Are you doubting me because I can’t move the talisman? I understand you’re skeptical of my talent. But to tell me to give up? We’re always together…”

“That’s not it!”

Twella’s voice rose. Students approaching from behind snorted and passed by.

No matter what Twella did, they wouldn’t care. She was someone who’d fail and disappear soon anyway.

“If that’s not it, then explain properly.”

“I saw it.”

“Saw what?”

“I mean…”

Mid-sentence, Twella frowned deeply. With a groan, her head dropped.

“What’s wrong?”

He was reaching out in concern when Twella coldly batted his hand away.

“It’s better if we go separately from now on.”

The attitude was far too sudden.

“Twella, if there’s a problem, tell me. I need to know what it is to solve it.”

“You can’t solve it. This is that kind of problem.”

“Whatever it is, you need to tell me…”

Bewilderment surged at her sudden distancing. We agreed to stay together, forever.

“Remember what you said? That it’s better to disappear than be left alone?”

Hearing that, Twella’s face looked ready to cry.

“Tell me what’s going on. You know we can handle anything together, right? When we ate the fish, when we found the apples. If it’s the two of us…”

“That’s exactly why it can’t happen.”

Twella swallowed her tears as if she’d made up her mind, then grabbed Quilbion’s wrist.

“Follow me.”

She headed toward the bench in front of Friendship House.

“Sit.”

They sat side by side.

Quilbion glanced at his wrist. Twella was still holding it. He found himself smiling at the warmth transmitted through their skin.

“It’ll start soon.”

“What will?”

“If you wait, you’ll find out. And you have to stay here no matter what. You absolutely can’t move. If you stay still, I’ll take back what I said earlier. We’ll keep being together.”

“I just have to stay still?”

“Yes.”

“In 30 minutes it’s cleaning time. Even then?”

“No, it’ll start before that.”

What was going to start?

“Anyway, I just have to stay here until cleaning time, right?”

“That’s right. That’s all.”

Quilbion exhaled confidently and looked around. Since it was rest time after lunch, everyone was freely moving about the clearing.

An ordinary day with no signs of anything unusual.

What could Twella be worried about?

His vigilant gaze caught on Drich. He was already gathering the broom he’d use during cleaning time.

As he looked at his friend’s innocent smile, the morning’s madness overlaid it.

Uncomfortable, he raised his eyes when it happened.

Fourth floor of Friendship House—a window frame swaying in the wind caught his attention.

It felt ominous. As if confirming it wasn’t just paranoia, the window frame twisted and leaned forward. The wall connected to the window frame also bulged out.

It looked ready to break apart and fall to the ground any moment.

Drich was right below it.

If the debris fell on him, he’d die.

“Drich!”

He shouted loudly and tried to stand.

Twella was still gripping his wrist while shaking her head.

“Wh-what are you doing!”

“You promised me. That you’d stay here!”

“Don’t you see that? Drich is in danger!”

He turned his head and called out to Drich. His voice must have reached him because Drich started looking around.

That made it even more dangerous.

Above the now-stationary Drich, the fourth-floor wall began crumbling.

“No!”

Quilbion shook off Twella’s hand and ran. As he ran, he kept calling Drich’s name.

Please, please!

But he was too late.

The collapsed outer wall fell away and dropped.

Crash!

Dust shot up. Quilbion swallowed a scream and ran.

“Drich!”

Just before reaching the accident scene, Quilbion saw it. Drich emerging from the cloudy dust with an unfazed expression, dusting himself off.

The strength left his knees. Quilbion staggered toward Drich.

The commotion spread and other students approached.

Standing at the center, Drich smiled cheerfully and said,

“Who am I? The guy who always gets first place in fitness checks, that’s who. Something felt weird so I looked up and boom—saw it falling.”

Drich pointed at the wrecked area.

“So I threw myself out of the way right away! Did you see? Did you see me dodge it?”

Proudly explaining, Drich clasped his hands together in a prayer pose.

“Of course, it wasn’t my ability alone. It’s all thanks to the Pioneer’s protection. You all saw it, right? This morning when the Pioneer prayed for us. The proof that their love is protecting us is right here!”

Drich pointed at himself with his thumb.

“This perfectly fine body.”

The students nodded and repeated “That’s right, that’s right.”

Soon the Ascetics appeared and examined the surroundings. They chattered about building repairs and such, but it wasn’t interesting content.

Quilbion approached Drich, who was smiling brightly among the students.

“You’re really not hurt anywhere?”

“A fragment flew and stung my face a little, but that’s nothing.”

“I thought something happened to you…”

Drich laughed and said,

“I saw. You were calling out desperately while running, right? I was touched. As expected, our friendship is different.”

Drich put his arm around Quilbion’s shoulders and laughed heartily.

He felt relieved. His tense mind started working again, and he soon thought of Twella.

He looked toward the distant bench.

Twella, who should have been sitting there, was nowhere to be seen.

“What? Looking for someone?”

Drich asked.

“Twella.”

“Her? I think she went toward the warehouse?”

He recalled Twella, who’d said as if pressing him: You absolutely can’t move. Why had she made that request?

“But you’re persistent too. Aren’t you tired of sticking with her all the time? There’s been no talk of special points either, so just give up already. It’s a waste of time.”

“Drich.”

“Hm?”

“When you have time later, try talking with Twella too.”

“Me?”

Drich gave a self-deprecating laugh.

“Even if it’s a friend’s request, I don’t want that. What would I talk about with someone who’s going to fail soon?”

“She might not fail.”

“Really? Someone with no interest in learning who doesn’t even clean properly? I don’t think so.”

“…If you look closely, you’ll see something different.”

An Ascetic asked them to help clean up. Quilbion cleared the debris while thinking about Twella.

If he went to Al Terua’s room, he could meet her. He’d meet her and hear the reasons.

Why she told him not to learn sorcery, why she told him not to move.

She said it was an unsolvable problem, but Quilbion believed every problem had an answer.

Twella’s worries could also be resolved through conversation and contemplation.

It’ll work out.

For some reason, he felt like they could overcome anything together with Twella.

He hoped Twella felt the same way.

*

In front of Al Terua’s private room.

The appointed time had come, but Twella didn’t appear.

Had something happened?

He was turning to go look for her when the door opened and Al Terua stuck out their head.

“If you’re here, come in instead of trying to leave.”

“Twella’s not here. She’s not the type to miss an appointment, so something must have happened. I’ll go find her…”

“Twella already came and left after meeting with me first. So come in without worrying.”

Came first and left?

Quilbion felt displeased but didn’t show it and entered the room. As always, it was a room with books messily left everywhere.

“You seem very worried.”

“We promised to come together.”

“But Twella broke the promise without saying anything?”

“…She said something similar. That she wanted me not to learn sorcery. I couldn’t understand what she was saying. Telling me to give up sorcery—it doesn’t make sense, does it?”

His words came out faster and faster.

He was aware of it. That he was easily showing his emotions. He knew he should stay calm, but when it came to anything related to Twella, he became impatient.

“Now, now, don’t get excited.”

Al Terua smiled.

Quilbion found the word ‘interest’ in those eyes. A gaze that observed openly.

Someone he could trust—no, someone he had to trust, but he still needed to be careful.

Quilbion recalled the morning incident.

The monsters who’d watched the dying students with languid eyes.

Monsters wearing human shells.

Of course, Al Terua had stood with the monsters, but they weren’t a monster borrowing a human shell.

At least that’s how it looked to Quilbion’s eyes.

“Good.”

“Pardon?”

“Those eyes, that cautious attitude. You know you have to trust me, but you still have doubts. I’m not a ‘goblin,’ but Quilbion, you can’t distinguish clearly yet.”

Goblin?

The moment he heard the word, his body flinched.

Something squirmed at the bottom of his memory. When he focused to dig it up, his vision went black.

Ringing started in his ears and his sense of direction completely disappeared. Quilbion gasped for breath and flailed his hands.

“It’s still dangerous to recall that memory. There are remnants of sorcery left, so it’ll cause shock. But don’t worry too much—you’ll be fine soon.”

Al Terua’s hand touched his head. The blackened vision quickly recovered.

Quilbion exhaled a tense breath and sat down.

“Thanks to the Pioneer coming to put on a show, we have four days of rest. Quilbion, during these four days I’m going to cram basic knowledge into that head of yours. You’ll learn quickly. You’re excellent.”

“…What about Twella?”

“You really are terribly fond of her. Don’t worry about that child. She’s already learned a lot. I’ve also realized much through her.”

Al Terua pointed at the floor with their index finger.

“If Quilbion’s talent is here.”

The index finger that had pointed at the floor bent up toward the ceiling.

“Twella’s talent pierces through there and reaches the sky. So stop worrying about Twella and worry about yourself. Oh, and.”

Al Terua flicked their bangs and continued.

“Since we’re now properly teacher and student, I’ll speak casually.”

The Ascetic took one step closer.

“Got it?”