Yuria’s tipsy question, asking about an emotion she had never before questioned, left me feeling perplexed.

“I don’t hate you.”

Shouldn’t that be the question I’m asking?

In the relationship between Yuria and me, it was Yuria who held the position of power, not me.

The perpetrator and the victim.

Even if I had intended to protect her and unintentionally caused her suffering, the fact that I tormented Yuria was an unchangeable wrong.

Even if I had halved the hardships Yuria should have faced, the difficulties she experienced at the Royal Academy were new to her, and I was one of the culprits who had given her such trials.

With these thoughts, I looked into her eyes.

Moisture brimmed in Yuria’s eyes, laden with complex emotions, and I found myself momentarily at a loss for words.

“Why do you ask such a question?”
“Just… because.”

Yuria’s response, simply tacking on a reason, left me momentarily pondering.

I’m not familiar with the feeling of hating others; perhaps it’s because I’ve cut ties with what some call a conscience that I found Yuria’s question difficult to answer.

After taking a moment, I responded to Yuria.

“I don’t hate you. Hmm… indeed.”

Yuria gripped the handle of her beer mug tightly. Her slender fingers by her lips trembled slightly with each word she spoke.

I questioned Yuria, filled with my own curiosities.

“Why do you think I would hate you?”
“I’ve done something terrible…”
“Something terrible?”

I pondered over Yuria’s mention of a wrongdoing.

“Did you perhaps meddle with my wallet, or spit in the coffee you gave me? If it’s the former, it’s serious; if the latter, I’d rather not say.”
“Nothing like that happened.”
“Then I really don’t understand why you ask this.”

Yuria’s quivering voice returned the question.

“Why…”
“Yes?”
“Why don’t you hate me?”

I repeated the answer I had given moments ago.

“Didn’t I say? There’s no reason for me to hate you.”

Yuria’s expression began to crumble into tears. Whether due to recent worries or not, the sight of a sobbing Yuria felt rather sorrowful.

“Don’t lie.”

“Because of me… or rather, I… I…”

Yuria stammered the same words and then bit her lip.

I wasn’t sure what Yuria was trying to say, but it likely had to do with me.

Perhaps she had learned of one incident from our time at the Academy.

The incident of the fire in the girls’ dormitory, or maybe she had discovered one of the lies I told her. I had moved carefully to ensure no one found out, but had someone seen?

Considering it a past matter that I wasn’t concerned about anymore, I calmly spoke to the trembling Yuria.

“Why would I hate you, Yuria?”
“…”
“Even if I can be quite irritable, I do know my place.”

Yuria was at a loss for words after my response.

She pressed her lips tightly shut, unable to say anything, and whispered so faintly, “Why are you pretending not to know… You know everything…”

With the atmosphere turning into a game of truth, I felt a need to ask something in return.

“Now, I’ll ask a question. It’s only fair if we both get a turn.”

I placed my hands politely on the table and asked.

“Do you hate me, Yuria?”

Yuria hesitated, clenching her fists. I felt I had received a sufficient answer from her reaction.

Though the alcohol allowed us to speak more freely, looking deeper into Yuria’s heart would reveal it charred black.

It would be odd not to hate me.

Even if the things I did were supposedly for her benefit, the outcome she had to accept was still pain.

I, therefore, thought it problematic even to expect forgiveness.

That’s why I spoke with a voice close to certainty.

“As you know, I am a person without a conscience. Hmm… you could say I’m a villain.”

Yuria countered my statement. Without hesitation, her voice was resolute and denying.

“No.”
“Thank you for saying so. But you’ve seen me at the Academy, haven’t you? You know.”
“There was a reason for that…!”

I clenched my fist.

“What reason?”
“…”
“What reason could there be for me to torment you?”
“Olivia…!”
“Hmm.”

I felt the need to get worse at that moment.

Though it was blunt, I wanted Yuria to draw a clear line, so I coolly asked her.

“Even if the lady had ordered me, those things wouldn’t have happened if I had refused.”

I didn’t say that it would have been harder for her if I hadn’t stepped in.

Because it would seem tasteless.
And I didn’t want Yuria to feel guilty.

That was my penance.

And as someone who had possessed her, one of the few gifts I could give Yuria was to tell her the painful truth.

“If I had warned you in advance, you might not have suffered as much, and if I hadn’t taken the lady’s side, perhaps you could have enjoyed a peaceful time at the Academy.”

Upon hearing my cold words, Yuria clenched her fists and shouted.

“Then why did you help me?!”

Yuria’s voice was choked with emotion.

“In the dungeon, in the classroom, even when I was eating alone, you were the one who approached me!”

“I’m nothing to you, Ricardo…! Why were you so kind to me?”

“Did you pity me?”

“Did I look pitiful, being all alone?”

“Or…”

“Was all this another scheme of yours, Ricardo?”

Yuria’s eyes were shaking.

Staring into eyes full of truth, I couldn’t bring myself to speak easily. Unsure of what to say or how to feel, I found it difficult to make a response amidst this unfamiliar emotion.

So, I decided to conclude the conversation trivially.

“…Exactly.”

“I don’t know either.”

“I must have done it because I’m a bad person.”

*

On the way home.

A drunken Yuria was slung over my back.

A person who couldn’t handle alcohol had overindulged. With an awkward smile, I would order another beer for her, and after vague answers, she’d drink again.

Thus, Yuria, who had turned into a ‘dog,’ was now carried on my back.

“Ugh… the world’s spinning.”
“It’s you who’s spinning, Yuria.”
“Ugh… my stomach’s churning.”
“Could you try to hold that in, please?”

Yuria’s ominous gestures of heaving made me feel uneasy, but I couldn’t leave her on the cold ground, so I sighed deeply and walked towards the Academy.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been this way; my memory’s a bit fuzzy.”

I wandered through the park like a lost monk, with memories vague from a year and a half ago.

There should have been a sign pointing towards the Academy if I followed the main road.

After circling the same path, I found myself in a grim alleyway.

“Hmm… is this some kind of hallucination spell?”

I sighed deeply.

It felt particularly unpleasant because it seemed someone had been following us since we left the tavern, and now that we’d reached a dead-end alley, they slowly made their presence known, like cockroaches hiding under a pillow.

I muttered again as I took in the situation.

“I wonder if alcohol-induced violence is excusable as an act of diminished capacity.”

One by one, dark figures began to appear in the dim alleyway.

Slowly stepping forward was a man in the Academy’s uniform, followed by men who had swords at their waists.

The men approached with a menacing air, and the one who seemed to be their leader stepped out of the shadows and spoke.

“I received your gift. Ricardo, you played an interesting trick. I thought I was a goner.”

The man with the black horn-rimmed glasses.
I looked at his face and smiled nonchalantly.

“Hans.”

Hans, seeing Yuria on my back, said,

“Drop that and go.”
“Refer to a person as ‘that’? That’s pretty offensive.”

Black tendrils of energy began to emanate from Hans’s hand. A deep darkness enveloped the gloomy alley, making it almost impossible to see.

I spoke slowly to the approaching Hans.

“Switched sides after dropping out, I see.”

Hans responded with a small laugh.

“The grades here are good, you see.”
“Ah… I see.”

I cautiously placed my hand on the hilt of Tirbing and, without any emotion in my gaze, suggested to him.

“Maybe you should just leave.”

Hans’s eyes began to tremble at the sight of the black blade.

“Otherwise…”

I’m not the nice person Yuria thinks I am.

A person who avoids fights that seem likely to result in a loss, who thinks cunningly and only of their own benefit. The term ‘nice person’ didn’t suit me.

I responded to Hans in a calm voice.

“You’ll die.”

Hans murmured softly.

“Try and kill me.”
“Okay.”

The deep black space vanished with a single cut.

Hans looked at me in disbelief.

Just like Pascal, he looked at me and murmured,

“Crazy.”

[A breakthrough challenges the limits of ‘Black Magic Resistance.’]