Fallen Brides: Mimiru — Tentacles Again

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My apologies for the long delay — seminar paper hell continues, but will shortly be at an end, and then I hope to make up for lost time. In the meantime, here's another 3,500 words or so. As you can probably guess from the title, this part concludes the wizard fight and brings us to the start of the transformation scene.

Now seems like a good time to explain my translation of spells. The name of each spell in the Japanese text consists of kanji expressing the spell's function, and furigana indicating an entirely different katakana reading. As I have been unable to find sources for most of these readings ("Electric Wall" is to be read "Ohm," which seems reasonable, and "Corrosion" is read "Fenrir," so they are likely not just fantasy gibberish, but aside from those two almost none resemble words in any language I know or yield search results on google or in dictionaries), and as the kanji often serve as the only explanation of a spell's function, I have elected to provide translations of the kanji names in my English text. I plan to add footnotes with the katakana readings in a future update.

The only other translation detail of note (minor spoiler) is that Mimiru's while socks are described as turning into a "deep green ooze," all other descriptions of this ooze have it as deep purple in color, and I have consequently altered the single instance of "green" under the assumption that it is an error.

Lastly, thanks to Dan, who offered some assistance with my apparent inability to read the Blogger interface, you can now read the story so far with correct formatting (including, most importantly, italics) after the break.

Case 2: Mimiru

"Gift"

By Hatsugase Machina

Translated from the Japanese by OtherSideofSky (othersideofskytranslations.blogspot.com)

Gift

/gift/

noun

1. A blessing. An ability. Something bestowed.

2. Poison.

Thus do children learn the ways of life: The child raised receiving harsh judgment learns to judge harshly; the child raised amid animosity learns the necessity of rejecting others; the child raised the object of envy learns baseless guilt; the child taught tolerance beyond its years learns patience; the child raised receiving justified encouragement learns self-confidence; the child praised as it grows learns gratitude for its life; the child raised in fairness learns the spirit of justice; the child who received selfless consideration learns piety; the child raised in awareness of its connections to others learns the value of the self in society; and the child raised amid the love of fellows learns the love that reside in all creation.

—Extract from The Teachings of the Philosopher Arc Treis, Nadokie Publishing

—

In any age, there are people called "prodigies": Boys who, at eight years old, understand treatises that even adults struggle to read; children who perform advanced medical techniques at barely more than ten; girls who, at fourteen, make unprecedented discoveries that change people's way of life completely. These are only extreme examples, but I haven't the time to list more.

Such children, despite the fact that they have not yet reached an age one can call "mature," are the equals of any adult. They give free reign to the talents granted them.

How then do adults — no, all the people around them — view these boys and girls?

Some consider them special beings, residents of another world unconnected with themselves. Others see their rare talents and think to make use of them for their own ends. Still others see them as objects of adoration, regardless of their age, and in some cases even worship them. There are also those who reject them as the unique mixed in amongst the commonplace, foreign objects in a miniature garden, but in general people's reactions seem to fall into these three types.

Well, here's the problem: among the three types of people I just listed, is there anyone who views these boys and girls as "boys" and "girls"? It's true that they possess rare abilities that astonish their elders, and they make conspicuous use of their talents. The people around them acknowledge that. As possessors of talent, it's not unusual for them to be regarded as more than human. For the "have-nots," that way of thinking is inevitable.

But I'd like you to pause a moment and consider: When everyone views them like that and showers them in praise, don't they overlook something important?

That before they are beings of a different world, before they are able prospective right-hands, before they are objects of adoration that possess rare abilities, those "boys" and "girls" are individual, human children, born from the loins of individuals, who by nature will always desire the warmth of their parents and of others.

◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊

Mimiru Miltié.

If you ask any citizen of the nation of Lescatié about the owner of this name, seven in ten will proudly recite her accomplishments, two will describe her actual state in somewhat crude terms, and one will look disgusted and grumble complaints about her.

"A matchless magician."

"Divinely-inspired intellect."

"A pink little angel."

Along with nicknames like these, you will be told her activities and achievements in numerous fields with a good deal of embellishment. But even if you were only to view a record of her career, that would be more than enough to convince you of her greatness, and her ability, which from an outsider's point of view could even be said to be of a different order from that of others.

At the age of three she had memorized the letters and pronunciation needed for magical incantations, and at the age of five she had mastered all elementary spells. Her practical ability grew conspicuously at the greatest institute of magic in Lescatié, the College of Sorcery, which had been monitoring her talents and recruited her, and at nine years old she prevailed against the then-number two in the magical duels sponsored by the College. A year later she defeated number one as well, and it is said that she has remained undefeated until the present day. She is now twelve.

And it wasn't only magical ability with which the heavens had endowed her. Just as she had fully acquired language at the age of three, she possessed intellect beyond her years in other areas as well. Not long after she was admitted to the College of Sorcery, she finished reading all the intermediate books of magic kept there, and a year after that she read through a variety of documents, including advanced books of magic as well as volumes on strategy and tactics. A year after that, she was writing treatises based on what she had read. Even in the annals of the Order, she holds the record as the youngest full-fledged magician in history, and some say that her record will never be broken. Between then and the present day, she has left her name on several records of magical war and monster suppression, along with a number of exceptional achievements.

An especially famous anecdote of her activities comes from the war to repulse the amazonesses who inhabit the forests on Lescatié's borders. The amazonesses surpass humans, even adult men, in average physical and magical strength, and while their individual skill was impressive, they make group combat their specialty. Just ten years old at the time, Mimiru was able to see through their escape routes through this country where successive generations of magic guides had been at a loss how to proceed by mapping the terrain with an "Eye in the Sky." She then used the "Mirror-mist" spell, rarely used in ordinary battle due to its significant disadvantages, so that the terrain, with high humidity and little wind, would work only to the advantage of her allies, and successfully repulsed the amazonesses with the minimum military and magical force. It is said that her words to the College of Sorcery's ruling council following the repulsion, that "it is not only sorcery one ought to study," prompted self-reflection in the College of Sorcery at the time and hastened improvements to its curriculum.

And right now, this young girl genius whose ability is several orders of magnitude greater than that of the other sorcerers in the College of Sorcery and who serves as the lynchpin of Lescatié's magical strategy, is...

"—Delicious!♪"

Grinning broadly, her mouth filled with the fresh cream of the "Sacred Parfait," which vies for the title of most delicious in the entire nation. The place is the cafe Loumède in the neighborhood of the great cathedral, known as a favorite of the church's female soldiers. It's a shop she's fond of visiting when there's no work for her at the College of Sorcery and she's able to make some free time. The "Sacred Parfait" she is now scooping into her mouth is one of the cafe's specialties, known for the refreshing aroma of herbs it leaves in the mouth, the fine flavor of the white chocolate layered as a sauce over the herb ice cream, and the crisp texture of its maize flakes. Naturally, it is one of Mimiru's favorite dishes.

Mimiru worked her spoon with a complacent smile on her face, as if she had not a care in the world. She shoveled the pale-blue solid of the mint ice cream, its color mixing the blue that stood for political astuteness with the white that stood for moral rectitude, into her mouth, quickly followed it with a scoop of the baked corn sweets, and took a bite. That alone was enough to put a look of warm relief on her face and send a little shiver of delight through her body. No human could remain unmoved by such a delicious flavor. On that point, Mimiru shared the same feelings as ordinary people.

As Mimiru was bringing the umpteenth scoop of cream to her mouth, a heavy, damp sound like a tree collapsing resounded in the main street. She did not so much as glance in that direction, and this time took a scoop of the herb ice cream. Even without checking, she was well aware what made that sound on this street, and at this hour.

"...Should I invite Ms. Sasha again? I doubt it would do any good..."

Mimiru muttered to herself in a manner unbecoming her years, while across the street a horse-drawn carriage gaudily adorned with ornaments patterned after myths that the church taught to children clattered past. Probably someone highly-placed in the church had sent a messenger to Sasha Folmoon, who was Mimiru's own senior. Or perhaps they had gone themselves. As if that would make any difference.

After all, she — Mimiru's illustrious predecessor — had something to protect. Something she wanted to protect. Now that she had made up her mind, it would probably be more difficult to change her mind than to freely manipulate the Egnati Stone, which stood in the center of the city and which legend had it could only be moved when the fate of the world approached a turning point. You must have something better to do than waste precious time on such things, she caught herself thinking. Ensuring employment for the poor and improving the labor environment, for example. Or correcting income disparity... Having thought thus far, realized that such a thing was absolutely impossible in this country as things stood, and couldn't help letting slip a sigh. It was absurd to expect that much here. Everyone was wrapped up in defending their own station, and forgetting to act as a people. The power to correct that was not in this country. By all rights, someone ought to take the lead and manage things, but...?

"...Oh, honestly."

Having ended up depressing herself, Mimiru shook her head from side to side to clear it. She tended to get lost in thought whenever she was on her own. She had a plan, in a sense, but it had only gone as far as a proposal. And she was well aware that it was likely to be received not with a storm of praise, but with a wave of scorn. At the age of twelve she understood that often, no matter how justified she was, the mere fact of her youth was enough to cut down her power to persuade and make opposition easy to stir up.

The more she thought, the more Mimiru was forced to accept that Lescatié was at an impasse. It was at an impasse, and everyone was turning a blind eye. The taxes taken at every opportunity to support the sunny society of nobles and clergy, which boasted the second most advanced systems of military preparation and education in all the nations of the church; the destitution of the poor classes, who spent their days scrimping and saving; other paths blocked by the coercive forces of the Chief God's creed, the church, and the state, which forced people to act out "desirable" roles and to assimilate themselves with the parts they played (as she thought this, Mimiru understood that she herself was such a person). She had overheard her father and mother discussing a rumor than resistance organizations were being formed. Perhaps she might end up having to suppress them under the label of monster suppression. Or else the "shadow corps" in the service of the state might "restore them to the path of righteousness." Either way, she couldn't see anything particularly good in store, at least as far as her own feelings were concerned.

...Well, I know I'm in no position to speak, given that I receive support from such people myself, but...

Mimiru shook her head again with a disgusted sigh that seemed to leech the flavor out of the first-class parfait she had been eating. Such grim imaginings always depressed her. Why did such dark thoughts have to come to her in her long-awaited break time? The carriage a moment before was the cause — they might be the ruling class that shaped the nation's present predicament, but she couldn't possibly speak ill of the upper echelons of the church. Any objection to them would be treated as practically a rebellion against God. The reality of it was religious fanatics and the villains who inhabited Pandemonium... How did it make her feel to not only know a bit of those schemes, but to have understood them — no, to have been able to understand them?

That nervous irritation, unbecoming her age, was turning even the refreshing flavor of mint bitter. Even though she had gone to all the trouble of finding time to visit her favorite cafe and eat her favorite treat, she couldn't help spoiling her own fun. But then, if someone had asked her what was wrong, she couldn't have said that anything really was. The present state of things certainly wasn't her fault, and the ruling class had their own reasons for what they did. Even if she thought up a plan and made a proposal, she wouldn't be able to change anything. And in the first place, her reason for making such a proposal would be the irritation that had spoiled her wonderful sweets time. It would just be her throwing a tantrum. Such things might be all very well for everyday situations, but there were limits... Or so she told herself, but it was hard to say if she was really getting through.

"Speaking of which, I haven't been to see big brother yet, have I?"

The aftertaste of mint, which had now almost entirely vanished, caused her mind to drift to thoughts of a soldier serving in Lescatié's vaunted Order of Holy Knights. Thoughts of the only person that she, an only child, called "big brother" — Elt. She didn't know his surname. She didn't even know if he had one. As for his abilities as a soldier, Mimiru doubted whether he would be able to match an officer-class monster, to say nothing of those that possessed real power. He was that sort of youth.

And yet he treated Mimiru, who was powerful enough to strike down officer-class monsters in a single blow and to fight even truly powerful monsters to a standstill, just like a child. There was something about that she just couldn't stomach, so against her better judgment she'd snapped back at him. But in response Elt had just chided her without even getting angry. That had exasperated Mimiru, and she had ended up leaving him with a sharp parting remark and walking out... although she had since become a regular at the Order's barracks. But she wouldn't be going today. It wasn't as if she really needed to, but... not going felt somehow unsatisfying.

After a little thought, Mimiru paid her bill and was soon racing along the stone-paved street towards the barracks.

"Look — Lady Mimiru is eating a parfait alone."

"You're right. I suppose her ladyship keeps to herself..."

All the while trying not to pay attention to the end of the callous comments she could hear from her surroundings.

◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊

It was several years ago that she'd become acquainted with Elt. She hadn't even known his name back then. She'd just happened to overhear some grumbling about Lescatié's poster-hero.

"As I thought, separating Wilmarina from that brat was the right decision."

"Yes, it seems so. We couldn't possibly leave a child of Lady Wilmarina's exceptional ability in company with some nobody from who-knows-where. Her being a 'Hero' will serve the whole country, after all."

"Precisely. A mere servant trying to be my daughter's companion — the nerve of that boy!"

Wilmarina Norscrim. One of the heroes who served in Lescatié's Order of Holy Knights, and talented woman who boasted ability unequaled in the nation at the tender age of seventeen. Mimiru and the others couldn't hold a candle to her military exploits, and the people's love for her was such that there were some who became overcome with emotion and burst into tears at the mere touch of her hand. It was also common knowledge that she never missed her daily training in order to polish her abilities, and it was an everyday thing in this country for mothers to admonish their children by saying "Don't you know Lady Wilmarina is working hard every day to drive the monsters from this world?" Wilmarina was such an ideal hero that even Mimiru, who had been recruited to join her in suppression operations at times, felt overawed in her presence. And she had had to be forcibly separated from a servant boy...?

Wilmarina's father, who was a high-ranking priest, and another man, a leader of the Order of Holy Knights. Their conversation went round and round in Mimiru's head — she had been on her way to return materials she had been using for a treatise to the Order court. Now that she thought back, it wasn't a complete surprise. It was true that a faint tinge of unease existed in the determined expression that Wilmarina the hero sometimes wore. That unease always vanished soon after, so completely that Mimiru had thought it was all in her head, but...

It was also true that a different interest had sprung up inside Mimiru. An interest in something that should by all rights have more excited girls a year or two older than she — a love story.

What sort of person was this boy who had captured the heart of Wilmarina the hero and wouldn't let it go? Mimiru had tried to picture him as she turned the first page of a romance novel and absentmindedly perused the letters on it. During her break time, all by herself, of course. But she just hadn't been able to picture a man to suit Wilmarina, who was practically a national symbol. She could picture a servant — his position — because her own parents had originally been such, but when she tried to imagine that beside the hero... She just couldn't see it.

"...Oh, finished already."

The romance novel Mimiru had just finished reading was another story of two lovers burning with passion separated due to the difference in their social standing. Still, she certainly wasn't in love herself, so it only registered as somebody else's problem. Using a stepladder to return the book to its high shelf and starting on her way back to the College of Sorcery, Mimiru decided to forget the subject for the time being. After all, it was just a silly story in any case, and she didn't particularly enjoy spreading rumors — especially when it was gossip that could only  be a danger to her.

It was several days later that Mimiru's thoughts returned to the subject, after witnessing a clear change in the expression of Wilmarina's eyes when she saw the register of the names of those newly admitted to the Order of Holy Knights. After that Mimiru had reviewed the histories of all the newly-recruited soldiers, and had finally learned the name of the one who even now held captive the heart of the hero the nation loved and respected.

Elt.

If a person's status wasn't high enough to merit a surname, even belonging to the Order of Holy Knights was not sufficient to ensure they would be granted one. That would only happen once they had risen to a post of sufficient rank, or else once they had established a suitable military record. And as Mimiru had thought, he had no surname. Surely it was only natural that he had been considered unsuitable for a hero who served as a symbol of the nation, and whose father was a high-ranking priest. "An idol must be set on a suitable podium and coated in a hard lacquer." Mimiru recalled having once read such a line.

What sort of person must he be, to seek the soul inside the lacquered idol? Mimiru, who watched the investiture of the new Holy Knights by the bishop from her seat in the front row, had ascertained his personal appearance.

A youth quietly but clearly singled out by his blazing red hair. He wasn't exactly what you would call handsome, but there was something attractive about his intrepid countenance. Training was easily perceptible in his taut body, even through the magnificent ceremonial armor emblazoned with the arms of Lescatié. Rather than joy at having succeeded in becoming a knight, his eyes showed a strong determination... or so it seemed to Mimiru. With further training, he would probably become a fine knight.

...But...

He would likely never be able to walk at Wilmarina's side. A person of ordinary ability who works hard can beat a genius who doesn't, but Wilmarina and those around her were, without exception, geniuses who worked hard. And would the prelates let someone like him near the hero the nation idolized? No. Even if they were to meet by chance, their positions as "hero" and "soldier" would prevent them from meeting as childhood friends.

Mimiru secretly sympathized with Wilmarina. Separated couple might transcend time and fate to reunite in old fairy tales, but reality was less kind to dreams, and the wall that time and circumstance had raised between the two was now practically a sheer cliff.

Still, there was perhaps one chance in ten thousand, or a hundred million, that they might one day meet as equals. But even if that did happen, how long would it take...? It would probably be impossible while Wilmarina's father was alive, to begin with. Still, it was certain that Mimiru, even as she thought such things, had developed an interest in what sort of person this "Elt" would turn out to be.

But then an event occurred that caused Mimiru to revise her estimation of Elt for the worse. It was a training exercise that took the form of mock combat among the newly-enlisted knights. Elt's marks there were among the lowest in the entire Order. It was true that Mimiru hadn't actually witnessed the exercise — at the time she had been unable to attend due to her work for the College of Sorcery — but she had overestimated his ability because he was a man with whom a hero had fallen in love, and this result was enough to make her emotions take a turn towards despair.

So, the nation's hero has her heart set on such a weak man...

With that thought, she became somehow unable to forgive herself for having once taken an interest in such an person, and at the same time unable to forgive this man, who even now brazenly kept his place in the hero's heart, beyond his ability or position, for existing. That concealed irritation had probably been what caused her to pay a visit to the barracks.

She marched rudely into the barracks, pushed her way through a crowd of people who smelled of sweat — some of them noticed Mimiru and made way for her of their own accord — and came to a stop, striking a daunting pose, in front of Elt, who, as she had expected, was performing routine maintenance on his weapons. The first words she had spit at Elt, matching his gaze — he had paused in the work he was doing on the sword in his hand — were still a topic of conversation among his fellow knights.

"Hey, you've got some nerve joining the Order of Holy Knights with skills like yours. I don't know why you joined up, but I don't think you're cut out to be a knight."

Actually, what they discussed was more likely Elt's reply. While the dumbfounded knights of the Order looked on, he kept his gaze fixed on Mimiru and quietly opened his mouth.

"...Ah, umm... Little Mimiru, isn't it? Don't you think it's rude to say something like that to a person you've just met?"

Perhaps those words struck a nerve, but in any case Mimiru had gone red in the face and run out of the barrack without saying anything more. Being spoken to in the tone of one admonishing a child, including being called "little," was a fresh experience to her and it felt extremely — how to describe it? — embarrassing. Having ended up, to her own surprise, fleeing under enemy fire, Mimiru swore an oath to herself as she made her hurried way home.

She swore that the next time they met, she would not flee. And that she would show him just how right and amazing she was, and force him to correct his estimation of her.

This was the pair's first contact. Since then, Mimiru telling Elt to quit the knights and working hard to show off her own magical ability, and Elt for his part lightly brushing off her attempts had become an almost daily routine.

As an aside, although one would certainly come to Elt's name on the list of marks for that training exercise faster if one counted from the bottom, that was because it had been a condition of the exercise that each combatant use a weapon other than their specialty. I will add that when Elt was using his preferred weapon, his ability was among the best of the newly-enlisted knights.

Children are more sensitive to the subtleties of others' feelings than their elders suppose.

◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊

To prepare against monster attacks, the Order of Holy Knights had established several barracks throughout the city. The barracks where Elt was stationed was located just off the main street, and his unit's training grounds were nearby.

"Let me see, right about now, big brother should be... just getting done with Ms. Mercè's training, I suppose."

Sure enough, the barracks were crowded with soldiers just back from training. The average woman might grimace at the characteristic stench of sweat, but Mimiru's many suppression expeditions had thoroughly accustomed her to such smells. She wouldn't have been able to engage in magical combat if she let a little dirt bother her — a magician's job was not limited to reciting spells in safe zones.

Passing through the midst of the soldiers exhausted by intense drilling under Instructor Mercè, who handled her halberd so manfully that she seemed to have forgotten her own sex, Mimiru sprang into Elt's view. The other soldiers in the barracks paid no particular attention to her behavior, and made no move to greet her. They all recognized her presence as a part of everyday routine — Oh, I guess that guy's going to get told off again; That guy must be a real masochist to take Lady Mimiru's insults like that every time; He doesn't look like he minds it half as much as he'd like us to believe. It was just another scene of everyday life in the barracks.

"Big brother!"

When Mimiru arrived before Elt, he was sitting on a bench and performing maintenance on the weapons used in training. Most of the types of weapons used by soldiers of the church — long sword, lance,  battle axe, mace, and so on — were leaning against the wall near him. The weapons to his right were practically sparkling, and those on his left were dirty with soil and grime. The weapons arranged on his left side were numerous enough that it was probably impossible for him to service all of them in his break time. Actually, it was doubtful he could do it even if he took all day.

"Hm? Oh, little Mimiru. Welcome."

Elt paused in his weapon maintenance and turned to face Mimiru. In spite of the difficult maintenance he was performing after being worked hard all day, there was hardly a trace of exhaustion in his voice. Considering that training had left him out of breath at first, Mimiru supposed that he had made remarkable progress. Regardless, she was merciless in her assessment.

"You got beaten black and blue again, huh? Looks like you're still pretty weak, big brother."

"You sure are harsh. I'm making progress every day, you know?"

"How so?"

"Well, I can last several minutes longer in a bout with the instructor."

"What good does making the fight last longer do you? In battle, boasting about what a long time you were fighting seems pretty dumb."

"Ha ha ha. I guess you're right. Still, I've made a lot of improvement controlling my lance and my body compared to when I enlisted."

"So what! It doesn't matter how much you improve if you can't defeat your opponent! At least save that kind of talk for after you manage to score a point off Ms. Mercè. Honestly... You'll be no good in an emergency in this state."

If this conversation had been between a brother and sister, the nearby soldiers would doubtless have been looking on in amusement. But soldiers who have been called "weak" by an operations planner generally feel, to use a vulgar expression, "snubbed." The words dent their egos like a charging minotauros or ogre dents a wall. It can, after all, be interpreted as a notification of their removal from the battle plan.

Elt accepted the words calmly, and retorted as if nothing was the matter. Doesn't this guy understand how serious what she's saying is? The thoughts of his fellows were almost audible.

"Anyway, I can't send you out to the front in this condition, so get stronger, okay? If you can't even make Instructor Mercè's shoulder touch the ground, you'll end up dying when you fight a monster!

"Well, if it comes to that, I, 'little' Mimiru, will get 'em with my magic! Zapapow♪"

Elt responded to Mimiru's confident boast with a smile.

"Thanks for your concern, but I'll be getting stronger anyway."

Mimiru, frustrated that Elt appeared unfazed by anything she said to him, shouted one last jibe at the top of her lungs, turned on her heel, and departed.

"If that's how you feel, hurry up and get strong enough that I won't have to worry! Or maybe you'd rather give up on the Holy Knights and scurry off home?"

That was just about the most sarcastic thing she could find to say to Elt, who probably had no home to return to. Consciously or unconsciously, she had struck at his weak point, but Elt evaded even this surprise attack.

"No need to worry about me. But if you get lonely, feel free to come here any time!"

Elt couldn't tell if his voice had reached Mimiru, but going by the fact that her footsteps seemed to become rather louder, he decided that it had, and resumed the "voluntary" weapon maintenance that her visit had interrupted.

◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊

After Mimiru left the barracks, a soldier who had also been receiving training there and whose original social standing had been close to Elt's came to retrieve a weapon.

"Oh, 's fixed! Thanks! I 'ad no idea what was wrong wiv it!"

"Dust had built up and hardened where the blade joins the hilt. I had a hard time getting it out. How long's it been since you last serviced it?"

"Hmm. Don't rightly remembah!"

Elt flashed a wry smile at his comrade, who laughed heartily. This soldier frequently came to Elt with requests to fix his weapons. "I can use em, but when it comes to fixing em, well..." Was his usual refrain. Every time there was a campaign, all his comrades, himself included, worried that he would go to an early grave.

"Ah, me lovely little battle axe!"

While gazing at the newly-repaired weapon with the eyes of a parent being reunited with a daughter who had been left with relatives, the soldier unexpectedly broached a new topic.

"It's not right, Elt."

"What isn't?"

The soldier jerked forward and stared Elt straight in the eyes.

""Ow can ya talk so normally ta the Lady Mimiru? If somebody saw ya like that they'd think ya were brothah 'n' sistah."

"'The'?"

At that answer, the soldier heaved a sigh. Didn't he understand the seriousness of the situation? Another soldier, whose specialty, if one had to say one way or the other, was more brains than brawn, came up from behind Elt, who did not understand why he was being sighed at, and cut into the conversation.

"Mimiru Miltié. In terms of practical ability, she's the current number one at the College of Sorcery, the organization that trains magicians for the magic combat units out country is so proud of. And they say she's number one by a wide margin, at that. Her single-handed repulsion of the 'Burst Gang,' followed by the amazoness expulsion, the banishment of the echidnas, and so on, she established a record of distinguished military service that common soldiers like us can't hold a candle to. On top of that, she's got a hand in planning some of the operations we carry out. I can't imagine how Elt finds the nerve to speak to her so familiarly; especially being so rude as to call someone who might as well be a divine being as far as we're concerned 'little.' He really ought to receive her respectfully and take a step back to show deference."

Elt nodded his comprehension. He'd known she was powerful, and he'd heard such things from her own mouth any number of times, but when her achievements were explained to him plainly like this and seeing the reaction of his fellow soldiers made them more convincing. The ordinary way he spoke to her could not help seeming strange.

"Well, I know how powerful she is, and that she's quite a bit smarter than me, but..."

Even her harsh criticism of him seemed almost natural when he considered that she had been blessed with such rare talent, and had performed feats to match. But to Elt, that information was completely meaningless. It would make no difference to him even if she were actually to perform great magics before his eyes, or to demonstrate thought and knowledge two or three steps ahead of his own.

"Somehow or other, when I'm talking with little Mimiru, even though I'm just an unruly orphanage brat, I end up feeling strangely like I'm dealing with a child trying to act like an adult. Maybe she's forcing herself to overreach. Like, even though she wants to act like a spoiled child, she's refusing to let herself. The sort of lonely person who can't be honest with her feelings, you know?"

"..."

Elt was sighed at by all his fellow soldiers. How could anyone have such an impression of the cornerstone of the holy nation of Lescatié's war potential?

Without piercing the surface, one cannot know the substance. Yet most behave as if they know by the outward appearance alone.

◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊

There was a place Mimiru visited in secret after finishing her work at the College of Sorcery. Not to say that it was a secret hideout or anything like that, as was so common among children of her age. Mimiru had nothing of the kind, and her destination was a place well known to many people in Lescatié. Even so, Mimiru didn't want her visit to be known. On the contrary, she wanted to keep it as unknown as she possibly could. She was certain that if anyone found out, it would become a source of malicious rumors. "What is Lady Mimiru doing in a place like this?" they would ask.

The slums, a corner of what was known as the "poor quarter" where rows of uneven and conspicuously rickety buildings stood in contrast to the luxurious and beautiful metropolis of capital district. That was Mimiru's destination. The cobbled streets were in a poor state of repair, and the whole place had the unsanitary atmosphere of a campground. It was not a place to inspire fondness in ordinary sensibilities. But Mimiru had made her way there countless times, merely to view a certain scene from far off.

"..."

There, at the end of Mimiru's gaze, was a little square before a small church, where a group of children her own age or perhaps a bit younger were playing.

"Merche! This time you're it!"

"Nine, eight, seven, six... Wait for me!"

"Welcome to our store.♪"

"I'd like one of these, please.♪"

Sasha Folmoon's church in the slums doubled as an orphanage, and the boys and girls Mimiru was watching were the children lived there.

A boy with raggedly cut brown hair was racing mischievously around the square, playing tag with a group of boys whose hair was close-cropped. Meanwhile, a group of girls led by a girl with brown hair gathered into two bunches and another with long, bronze hair were enjoying themselves playing house. There were smiles on their faces as they used bits of the trash scattered about the slums, worn-out ribbons and the like, as goods in a make-believe shop, and exchanged shells and bits of tattered paper in place of currency.

"..."

I'm jealous. Mimiru tried to suppress the emotions welling up inside her. That mysterious warmth was something she wished for, but could not have. Even just watching them, she could feel the itchy, sour, somehow comfortable atmosphere... But it was a distant feeling that had nothing to do with her. Even if, for the sake of argument, the opportunity to obtain that feeling had appeared before her that instant, she probably couldn't have brought herself to trust in it. And even if she did obtain it, she would probably continue to doubt. Why would anyone do something like this for me? What do they expect to get out of it? No doubt, unable to fit in with that atmosphere, she would end up growing dissatisfied and agonize over whether this was really what she had wanted as those feelings accumulated inside her.

She was different from those boys and girls. They didn't know anything. Nothing at all. Mimiru knew what the children did not, and yet she could not stop wanting what they had...

"..."

Her longings still unfulfilled, Mimiru trudgingly made her way home. Both her parents should already be home by this time. Already the sky was madder red. It was growing late for a child to be out walking alone. Besides which, properly speaking, Mimiru could not stay in a place like this for long.

"...Hey! This time..."

"...ah, dress up..."

Mimiru, the children's joyous cries still rising at her back, recited an incantation under her breath. A fist sized light whooshed into being on her palm. She chanted another spell, and the light split into five, twined around her fingers, and just like that became a set of rings that emitted light.

It would probably take those children five or ten years to learn even this elementary spell. And that was assuming that they were frugal with the time they spent sleeping and playing and devoted themselves entirely to the study of magic. But could she, who at roughly the same age as those children could perform it effortlessly, say that she was really more blessed than they...?

"..."

Still harboring oozing, unclear feelings, Mimiru extinguished the rings of light on her fingers.

Thus ability undermines the heart. If an unwanted gift purports to be a divine miracle, ought the god who performed it truly be revered?

◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊

"...Your highness."

"Really, there's no need to be so formal... my dear little black goat.♪"

"...It is I who should be asking your highness to stop referring to me in that way. And I would prefer not to eat while correspondence remains unread."

"No way!♪ I mean, you're the one who won't call me anything but 'your highness.' And I prefer not to sit alone in a high tower evaluating heroes while there's still cake uneaten."

"But the example it sets for your followers—"

"You know, you only need to worry about tiny details like that when my followers are watching. The only ones here are me and you, so it doesn't matter what kind of example I set."

"Your highness... No, Lady Deruella—"

"Drop the 'lady' too. You know you're different from the children I've changed."

"...Deruella."

"Very good!♪ Now, Lucella, you said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Finally getting to the point? Well...

"Deruella, about this invasion. There's someone I'd like you to let me face."

"Someone other than the little hero and the princess? Those two are off limits, you know? I'm going to 'expand their horizons' myself.♪"

"Of course. I would never be so boorish as to take one of your opponents. ...This girl."

"...Lucella, you aren't..."

"You don't need to worry, Deruella. I'm not harboring any malice against this girl. But I want to see what the one who brought my old friends Monique and Harum to their knees is made of."

"...I understand. Well then, it's almost time for me to step out."

"Thank you for understanding so quickly, Deruella. My preparations to sortie are complete. I'll have it commence at your signal—

"The invasion of Lescatié."

◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊

Mimiru lay on her bed, flapping her legs while pressing her face into an over-frilled pillow decorated with red polka dots on a pink ground. The bed, which boasted the highest quality the nation could then produce, took each of her blows gently with a muffled thump.

A great many stuffed animals lay scattered about Mimiru's room, which boasted a floor space of roughly sixteen meters square. Their gazes as they waited to be played with by the room's owner did not reach Mimiru.

Cold. What Mimiru felt when she hugged a stuffed animal was not warmth, but cold. Of course, the toys were not actually chilled. It was the feelings of the parents who had given them to her that Mimiru felt.

The reason Mimiru had never thought to disparage Elt for being too low born to possess a surname was that she herself had been born into a family of that same class. Neither her father nor her mother were of sufficient social standing to merit a surname. They had only come to be granted one because... because Mimiru had become the College of Sorcery's number three, and in recognition of her achievement in having single-handedly repulsed the "Burst Gang," a mid-sized group of mixed monster and human bandits led by an ogre.

It was true that Mimiru's father and mother both delighted at her maturation and distinguished war record, and that they praised her and bought her gifts with each new achievement. Mimiru had delighted too at first, but that delight faded a little each time she contributed new knowledge to the College of Sorcery's library or honed her strength in battle with monsters and villains.

She had realized. Realized that even her parents had ceased to see her as an ordinary daughter. They didn't know that she had pretended to sleep and eavesdropped on their distress-filled discussions — and several times, at that. Each time it had served to demonstrate that this home could no longer be a place of tranquility for her.

"Hic! Ah, now that's good alcohol."

"And to hell with 'a parent's dignity,' I suppose? Well, I suppose it can't be helped."

"Damn right! Thanks to Mimiru we've got a family name. Life's gotten pretty cushy, too. Really, we oughta' thank our gracious, gracious Queen Mimiru."

"Pathetic. Have some dignity and try to accomplish something for yourself, why don't you. Maybe you could finally be a match for her 'god-given talent.'"

"Whassat? And what about you?"

"Me? I'm giving up. That kid's different from me, you know? I'm not even going to try..."

What Mimiru felt for the parents who she loved so deeply, but who did not respond in kind, was even distrust, but a sensation as if the insides of her chest were becoming dry and parched. An isolation so intense that it was difficult to put into words, as if the other side of the door had suddenly become another world unknown to her.

What in the world are these people talking about? "Giving up"? "Dignity"? Aren't you my parents? Aren't I your daughter? Why did it have to become about "accomplishments" and things like that? And "gracious, gracious Queen Mimiru"? How could you say something like that so casually...? "That kid's different"...? But I'm your daughter! We share the same blood!

That day, Mimiru fell asleep even earlier than usual. She wished it would turn out to be a dream, but her sagacious brain was well aware that it was not. The sensation of magical energies flowing through her body was enough to convince her that this was a conversation taking place in reality. And if that were not enough, her room when she awakened was just as she had seen it before going to sleep.

The children in the orphanage probably did not even have stuffed toys like these. They would not have any of the things in Mimiru's room. The neatly-bound books, the sweet stuffed toys with their smiling faces, the bed so soft and fluffy that her body sank into it... None of these things were likely to be found in that orphanage. But still, in spite of all that...

Hurling one stuffed toy into another with a thump, Mimiru lay as she was on the bed and closed her eyes. It was already late. If she didn't sleep now, it would probably get in the way of her duties tomorrow.

"Good night," Mimiru murmured in a voice so soft that no one could hear, and snuffed out the room's magical light. What floated across Mimiru's mind as darkness filled her view and she passed into the world of dreams was... the image of a young Holy Knight greeting her just as he always did.

"If you get lonely, feel free to come here any time!"

The last words he had spoken to her at midday. Somehow, those words, which had offended her at the time, seemed warm and kind now that she was alone.

A poet of Zipangu once wrote that "a child is the greatest of all treasures." And every treasure needs to be polished — polished, in this case, by a parent's love. However radiant the treasure, without polishing it will dull and its light will fade. An unpolished treasure will go on waiting for the day that one will appear to restore its sheen — waiting for one who will polish it and hold it in their hands.

◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊

Continuous peace. While it is the thing the people of the world enjoy above all others, they are apt to forget this fact once it is in their grasp. Although they understand what a struggle it is to preserve peace, in the end they come to accept it as a matter of course.

It was just such a peace that reigned in Lescatié that morning. For the rich and for the poor, for all the varied people of the nation, it was a morning like any other.

No one could have imagined how easily that peace was about to crumble. Or at least the holy nation of Lescatié, which maintained the second greatest military force among all the nations of the church, was not home to people who spent their days worrying about such things. Even if there had been someone who feared its downfall, they would only have been laughed off as a worrywart.

Mimiru was different. Absurd fear or not, it was her job to establish countermeasures against any eventuality. That was why she had been calling for the expansion and strengthening of the sorcerous barriers and the training of additional sorcerers. Due to budgetary issues and, more than anything, Mimiru's age and the fetters of internal power struggles half-hidden behind the scenes, however, her proposals hadn't gone over well, and were progressing slowly if at all.

Honestly! Do they intend to go on undermining me forever? Or are they trying to use me as a dumping ground for useless sorcerers?

Mimiru, sick of the factions squabbling for influence, was once again sitting by herself in the cafe Loumède, tucking in to one of its famous strawberry parfaits with relish.

The cafe was the only place where she could let out a sigh of relief. Her home was as previously stated, and in her workplace at the College of Sorcery was constantly abuzz with the stratagems of high-ranking clergy, knight commanders, and administrators of the College. Many of them competed to use her, as the number one sorcerer in both name and fact, in order to shore up and expand their own power bases. That was another thing Mimiru was sick of.

In many ways she had been "unorthodox" from the first, and there was no one she could call a friend. Even the people who approached her with kind smiles on their faces were mostly, underneath the friendly veneer, trying to increase their own importance by taking her side. The remainder regarded her with fear, or with the prejudice that came from age and pride, or simply teamed up with her to accomplish a mission. None of them treated Mimiru as "Mimiru." None of them saw her. Every last one of them was only interested in using her power, intelligence, and renown for their own ends.

How did those people think of Mimiru? Perhaps as something like a gilded magician's staff that could walk and talk? If so, it was awfully comical. Dressing up beyond their ability and holding that staff would do nothing to remedy their own immaturity.

The bittersweet taste of the strawberries enhanced the sweetness of the fresh cream, and the strawberry chips mixed in with the ice cream burst refreshingly in her mouth. Mimiru finished eating the parfait with a sigh. This was the only time in her daily life that she could forget the troublesome web of relationships that surrounded her at the College of Sorcery... The only time?

"If you get lonely, feel free to come here any time!"

Of course. She hadn't seen Elt yet today. When she was talking with Elt — even if he irritated her — didn't she forget the hustle and bustle that surrounded her? Besides, for some reason she just couldn't forgive the way he spoke to her, the greatest magician in the College of Sorcery.

Alright, I'll go see him again. And today's the day I prove him wrong. I'm not lonely or anything — I just need to teach him a lesson.

Having persuaded herself, Mimiru paid the waiter and put the cafe behind her. Some of the surrounding customers discussed her in a matter of fact way, but Mimiru, who was racing towards the barracks feeling almost like a maiden in love, was deaf to their voices. What tactic should she try today? Mimiru simulated the conversation over and over in her head as she hurtled down the main street at top speed.

Those plans, however, would never be put into practice.

It happened as she was approaching a crossroads, still some distance from the barracks. All of a sudden, an unfamiliar sensation ran through Mimiru's entire body. An intense, biting chill — no, even "chill" was too gentle a term — as if she had been flung into a world thirty degrees below zero with only the clothes on her back flashed through her in an instant. What Mimiru felt was an intense wave of mana.

How!? Several of the magical barriers should already be in operation! So how is this mana—?

Could it be coming from inside Lescatié? But a monster's mana ought to have been detected, so why was there no warning that the city had been invaded, nor any sign of a military response? She could blame the top brass and their power struggles as much as she liked, but she had no way of dealing with a problem without knowing the cause. Mimiru tried to contact the College of Sorcery's barrier unit with "Wind Whisper" (a spell that used wind to gather sounds from far off and to deliver the caster's voice to distant locations) and send them instructions. But the response Mimiru received was one she had never expected.

"Ah♪ There♪ It feels so goood♪"

"'Shield'— Aaahh♪ How? How did—♪"

"Come♪ Big brother♪ Come more and more♪"

What's going on!? Does this mean the barrier unit has already given in!? And these childish voice... It couldn't be!

The voices that reached Mimiru through the "Wind Whisper" sounded younger than those she had heard in previous exchanges with the barrier unit. Mimiru had been prepared for the cries of pleasure, as she had guessed from the mana she sensed that monsters had already penetrated the interior, but the fact that the voices of the barrier unit sounded as if they were growing younger exacerbated her impatience. Her extensive knowledge and the surge of mana she had felt a moment before told her the identity of the assailant, but Mimiru still found herself unable to believe it.

Could it really be a baphomet!? I advised them on how to deal with one's magical power, but...!

Mimiru was shocked by the possible existence of a baphomet whose magical power far exceeded her expectations, and at the same time she mentally berated the top brass for failing to provide her with sufficiently talented people. Properly speaking she ought to check its advance at this stage, then capture and restrain it after completely stripping it of its mana. Otherwise, scenes like the one she had just overheard would become commonplace — no, that was already happening. Knowing that such a dangerous creature was at large in the country without even an effort being made to restrain it made Mimiru impatient.

With the barrier unit in their present condition, it wasn't difficult to imagine monsters swarming into the city, into the country, before much longer. No, the influx of monsters itself wasn't the problem. The problem was that citizens who turned into monsters would swell their numbers and destroy the nation from the inside as well. But before it came to that... they would have to strike the inner citadel. Preventing that was the duty assigned to Mimiru, assigned to her ability.

"So, the mana is headed... there!"

Hurling the giddiness she had felt a moment before three hundred million light years away, Mimiru summoned her favorite wand, then hurried towards the source of the mana.

"More♪ Deeper♪ Even deeper♪"

"How's this? Tee hee♪ I made the bigger for you♪ My b-r-e-a-s-t-s♪"

Mimiru closed her ears to the cries of pleasure that told of nearby residents already beginning to become monsters so that they could not trouble her. The knights of Lescatié were not incompetent. Messages of the outbreak and the monster advance must already be coming in. They would dispatch troops to expel the monsters and defend the sacred nation.

"...Aargh!"

Mimiru shook her head from side to side to clear the image of Elt that flashed through her mind. Why are you worrying about a single soldier in this state of emergency!? Pull yourself together, Mimiru! she told herself, but the image kept popping up when she least expected it. If Elt were attacked by a monster... and if he were stripped of his freedom and made their prey...!

"...Hey! Pull yourself together, Mimiru! Don't think about him! Just think about the opponent you're going to beat!" Mimiru forcefully reprimanded herself as she ran along the main street, on which monsters were already visible.

Strangely, none of the monsters tried to target Mimiru. On the contrary, on the way she took there was not a monster to be seen. When she looked to either side, it appeared that the knights were keeping them at bay, but there was something odd about the monsters' behavior. They were avoiding fatal wounds and not rushing the defenders, but they were not fleeing, either. It was so conspicuous that, had Mimiru been her usual self, she would have easily noticed that she was being lured. But in her current state Mimiru couldn't afford to care. If she let her thoughts stray even a little from her objective, thoughts of Elt, her quarreling-partner and novice Holy Knight, ended up popping into her head. Because of that, Mimiru didn't even notice that she was being lured. Then again, even if she had noticed, perhaps she would not have halted her feet.

When Mimiru did come to a stop, she was at the foot of the clock tower, famed as a sightseeing spot both inside and outside Lescatié. The place was normally crowded with citizens and tourists from abroad, but now there was not a human nor a monster to be seen in Mimiru's surroundings.

"You deliberately cleared out the people? Wasn't that nice of you."

Mimiru looked up at the clock tower. Its size didn't particularly impress her. After all, the place was a symbol of the city. She couldn't be awed by a sight she was so accustomed to seeing. But where she was looking, at the summit of the clock tower... there "it" was. One of their present assailants, and the owner of the mana, so powerful it made her shiver, that she had sensed before.

"We want to avoid inflicting needless injuries too, you know. At least, harming the innocent is no hobby of mine."

As "it" spoke, it leapt from the pinnacle. The figure, which to Mimiru's eyes appeared only as a point, grew gradually more distinct. Mimiru stared matter of factly at the descending creature, and began reciting an incantation. Properly speaking, she ought to take this opportunity to launch a surprise attack, but Mimiru didn't think one likely to succeed in this case. She could sense the gale that raged around the creature, defending it against magical attacks. She would have to disenchant it first.

"...'Newt,' pierce the barrier eyes cannot see."

Sure enough, the blue light emitted from the tip of Mimiru's wand struck the "thing," which was slowly coming into full view, and she was certain she saw particles of intermingled blue and gold light scatter... but then the light promptly converged into a point, and reverted to its original state. Seeing that the thing had managed to recombine her support magic without difficulty, Mimiru cut off the incantation she had been chanting. She could tell that by firing the spell she would just have been wasting magic.

The shape and color of the point that had leapt from the tower top at last began to clarify themselves to Mimiru's impatient gaze. Its general physical appearance was that of a child Mimiru's age, or perhaps even slightly younger. Two protrusions sprouting from its head looked like pigtails, but going by the way they were unstirred by the wind and the curve they described towards the back of its head, Mimiru guessed they were horns. The fact that its hands and feet were larger than those of a human and somehow reminiscent of an animal's in shape left her in no doubt that it was a monster. And... a baphomet.

Mimiru took a step back in the face of pressure so intense it almost seemed the creature's whole body was comprised of pure mana, and readied her wand. In her eyes, there was no trepidation to be seen. Only a cool gleam focused on how to bury the enemy before her.

The baphomet was still in freefall as it approached the ground, but when it had a reached an elevation roughly seven times its own height, the speed of its descent dropped precipitously, and its posture shifted from that of a sky diver to a haughty posture, fully erect with its arms crossed. By the time she neared the ground, her descent had slowed to less than the speed of a falling leaf, and then... she softly alighted.

Mimiru was more than a little surprised by the baphomet's appearance. She was prepared for the characteristics of the baphomet as she had seen them in illustrated encyclopedia being circulated surreptitiously within church, but the baphomet now before her eyes was clearly... peculiar. Her mantle and necktie, which might be considered symbols of power or rank, were tattered around the hem like those worn by wanderers. Or so it appeared at first glance, but actually its shape was constantly changing, causing it to billow and look as if dusty brown flames were sprouting from her back. The encyclopedia showed a baphomet's mantle fastened with clasps patterned after goat's horns, but hers were secured with deep red orbs like crystallized blood. One eye hid behind her bangs, as if to conceal a glare that could not but terrify the faint of heart.

The baphomet's most striking characteristic was that the fur that covered her arms and legs, as well as the hair on her head, was the color of darkness itself, darker even than black. Her skin was the same deep brown as a dark elf's, as if that pigment had begun to dissolve into fair, soft skin. If she were to stray into a settlement whose people equated the color black with evil, her coloring, as well as the mana that could hardly be contained in her small body, would almost certainly make her the foremost candidate for the inquisition.

Heedless of Mimiru's unvoiced surprise, the baphomet struck a daunting pose, threw out her chest... and looked slightly up at Mimiru do to the difference in their heights. Her deep crimson gaze was piercing.

"We meet for the first time, Mimiru Miltié. I am Lucella, and I serve under her royal highness Deruella, fourth princess of the monster realm."

Her air of intimidation was so overwhelming that Mimiru did not even notice the incongruity of the comical pitter-patter made by the baphomet's pads as she walked. Mimiru stared straight at the invader without stirring an inch. Her keen stare was a match for the baphomet's piercing gaze.

"You must have a lot of confidence to reveal your unit."

Mimiru renewed her grip on the wand. Her words were calm, but her but her hands were slick with sweat. It was as if the battle had already begun. The force of their gathering mana had already grown so intense that it was noisily swaying the needles of the clock above the baphomet's head.

"Of course I'm confident. I was chosen by the Dark Lord's daughter, after all. Still, you've got some fine mana yourself."

"I don't care to be complimented by a monster!"

The magical power both emitted was causing dry leaves fallen within the barrier to crackle and burst. And it wasn't just fallen leaves. Even the flowers planted in beds around the square before the clock tower to soothe people's hearts were scattering with popping sounds like those made by static electricity. But neither of them paid any heed. Their eyes were locked on each other, taking note of the least strain in their opponent. They were each looking for an opening, wondering which would make the first move.

Surrounded by whirling torrents of mana, the two maintained an eerie silence. The first to break it was Lucella.

"When I heard that Monique and Harum had been forced to retreat, I confess I doubted my ears. But now that I see you, I can believe it... Paralyze."

Snap. The sound came from the light gathered on Lucella's palm. She had completed a spell to deliver a powerful electric shock almost without an incantation. Mimiru was more than a little shaken, but concealed her feelings and, without uttering a word, caused her palm to be coated in ocher light. Neither shifted her gaze. When they did look away... the contest would probably be decided in an instant. The one who averted her gaze first would lose.

Then their quiet standoff...

"Pierce!"

"Wall of Earth!"

...became a battle of motion, as each flourished her light-covered hand.

◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊

"O sovereign of the depths who shakes with anger, bring your scorching roar upon this land! Consuming Flame!"

"Reunion! Lance of Light! ...What? It didn't completely dispel the—"

Ten minutes had passed since their battle was joined. If there had been an audience to this conflict, at present it would probably have appeared to three quarters, or even seven eighths, of the spectators that Mimiru had the upper hand. So far Lucella had been on the defensive and had not managed to land even a single attack on Mimiru. Seven eights of the remaining onlookers would probably have judged that the two were evenly matched. It was not as if Lucella had suffered a serious wound yet either. The spells Mimiru launched at her were all powerful, and several that an ordinary magician would have used as a trump card were among them. Lucella was considerably reducing their force. The few remaining spectators would probably have judged that Mimiru... was at an overwhelming disadvantage.

Unbelievable! How is she blocking my attacks this well?

The more time passed, the more Mimiru realized how disadvantageous her position was. She didn't know the nature of the barrier, and her opponent was a baphomet, the backbone of the Dark Lord's magical forces. There was a strong possibility that the barrier surrounding them had more functions than just clearing the area of people. She realized that the moment she faced her enemy in this place she had fallen into their trap. She regretted her own blunder in having forgotten herself and rushed in, but she refused to let it show. She stubbornly focused herself to concentrate solely on the task at hand — on defeating the baphomet.

Lucella, meanwhile, was shocked by the rare potential this girl possessed. It had been difficult for her to believe that her old cromrades, Monique the amazoness chieftain and Harum the Echidna, had been forced to retreat. That was why she had positioned Deruella. Those two were not a pair to be defeated by a mere girl. It was only natural, then, for her to take an interest in Mimiru's abilities. All the more so because, as the commander of a sorcery unit serving a daughter of the Dark Lord, she had hardly been unaware of Mimiru's existence. And now that she was exchanging spells with the girl, she understood. Mimiru certainly had outstanding talent. A prodigy like her might appear only once in several decades, if that. Lucella recognized that it was no wonder Monique and Harum had been defeated, faced with the possessor of such power.

However...

At the same time, Lucella felt it. Felt something lacking in Mimiru's magical attacks. It was holding back Mimiru's abilities, and tipping the odds in Lucella's favor. If Mimiru were truly using magic from the bottom of her heart, facing her might have cost Lucella a serious effort.

"Wall of Flame, Wall of Water, Wall of Wind, Wall of Earth, Wall of Lightning... There, that ought to do it."

Magical defensive barriers of multiple attributes sprang into being simultaneously around Lucella, and Mimiru gritted her teeth in frustration. Breaking each wall would require a spell of the corresponding element, but... could she do that with her current mana? She might be inflicting damage on Lucella, such as it was, but the effort was taxing Mimiru's physical and magical strength. Thinking strategically, turning the situation to her advantage and striking a blow against the baphomet... was not impossible. If she could evade Lucella's attacks long enough, she had a secret weapon, that, if it hit, would take the baphomet out of the fight. It was a spell of her own invention, and was not yet known to anyone else.

Mimiru kept silent, and tried to put some distance between herself and her opponent. Lucella made no move to pursue her, and instead began to question her with an air of nonchalance.

"What a pity. You disappointment me, Mimiru Miltié."

Mimiru made no response. She just went on with her incantation while staring at Lucella with apparent indifference.

"Why don't you open your heart? Why do you set yourself against everyone? You possess talent far beyond the ordinary, but you might as well be putting shackles on yourself. Magic is no different from the body. Did you think you could turn your back on your own heart and deny yourself?"

There was no answer. Mimiru merely regarded Lucella with a cold, almost inhuman gaze, and devoted all of her considerable magical power to invoking her spell. The was no emotion in her — or rather, she was deliberately shutting down her emotions. She would not be able to complete the spell otherwise. Even though Lucella was a monster, even though she was an enemy of humanity and had never met Mimiru before, she had easily seen through to Mimiru's true feelings, her heart's true nature, and put them into words. If Mimiru allowed her brain to fully register this fact, she would become unable to maintain her composure.

Before Mimiru's brain could convert the sounds her ears captured into information, her incantation was complete. As it finished, a magician's hexagram formed at her feet. As if in testament to Lescatié's love of cleanliness, it boasted a white radiance that swallowed and erased all other color.

"Well now... I never imagined you would be capable of casting a spell of this level."

Lucella's face showed surprise and admiration. She realized that this would be Mimiru's trump card. What shocked her was that Mimiru could have progressed to the point that she was able to cast magic on this scale, even in an imperfect form, unaided. Unmoved by Lucella's reaction, Mimiru chanted the words of activation.

"I, by this light, cast darkness back into eternal nothingness... Trial!"

A colossal light gathered around Mimiru's wand, and gradually began to take on contours. It was like a giant sword, or perhaps an all-piercing spear, or perhaps an unstoppable arrow. Its aim was fixed on the lone black goat standing before her.

"So, you're pointing that thing at me? And it looks like it would chase me even if I tried to run... Hee hee."

Lucella put a hand to her mouth and chuckled at Mimiru, as if she had just seen something funny. There was nothing in her manner to suggest that her life was in danger. Mimiru's dormant feelings cried out in anger at that reaction, but were contained deep inside her and not allowed to show. She aimed the light, which had already grown to the size of a cannon, at the heavens and let it fly. It cut through the air as if to pierce the sky, which had become shrouded in dark, roiling clouds due to the influence of mana, shining all the while. If anyone had been present to view the battle, the light would likely have appeared to them as a goddess, born up by the heavens, trying to guide humanity to victory.

In the sky, the light continued to grow denser and sharper. It was becoming something close to a single, well-honed spear. The spear of light, floating in the heavens, was pointed at Lucella, and her alone. In an emotionless voice, Mimiru pronounced the sentence of death.

"Judgment!"

Obeying her command, the spear of light took aim at Lucella and let fly. Faster than the eye could follow, it pierced Lucella's shield and all her magical barriers, bringing down an iron hammer of pure destruction! It ought to have run through Lucella's heart in the blink of an eye. It was a spell which aimed, if its incantation were not interrupted, to annihilate the enemy with its massive destructive force. When Lucella had failed to interrupt the casting, Mimiru had gained a slim chance at victory. By all rights, had she been able to fire it with an unfettered, joyous heart, the light should have been able to shine through the darkness. But she had fired it without ever feeling an ounce of joy in the act, and now...

"Devour, and leave not even marrow — Corrosion."

"What!?"

It was all Mimiru could do to cry out in shock. The instant the spear of light, whose killing power ought to have risen to the absolute limit, struck Lucella's breast, it broke and withered like a flower petal in the freezing cold, eroded by darkness. Mimiru now saw that a magician's pentagram had formed at Luella's feet, and an eerie, purple light was rising from the ground to the sky.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Like a frozen sweet being crushed in a mouth, the lance of light was splintering from the tip, becoming contaminated, and dissolving. As it did, Lucella's mana was climbing. There could be no doubt — she was devouring it. Lucella's mana was consuming Mimiru's.

That instant, Mimiru's defeat became certain. She had put all her magical and physical strength into the spell, and now she had none left. Lucella, on the other hand, was making Mimiru's strength fodder for her own. Mimiru could not even muster the strength to flee, and even if she could, it would do her no good within the barrier. She was painfully aware of that.

Lucella, who had finished absorbing the last fragment of Mimiru's spell, turned calmly back to look down at Mimiru, who sunk to the ground with a groan. Mimiru was backing away while keeping her eyes on Lucella, who was already displaying the composure of a victor. Her dress and shoes made scraping sounds on the flagstones.

Lucella, her emotional restraint perhaps beginning to melt, flashed a somehow licentious grin at the cowering Mimiru. It closely resembled the smile of one who has seized the power of life and death over the vanquished, but... there was definitely something different about it.

"I wonder... Why? I doubt you've lived even a fifteenth of my years, so why have you closed your heart so completely?"

As Lucella approached, making a soft tapping sound with each step, Mimiru could do nothing but slowly retreat to gain distance. In her current predicament, it was no comfort to her that Lucella's strides were not very long. It did no more than draw out her fear.

"It's no exaggeration to say that the beauty of the young lies in the purity of their souls. As they grow, they become conscious of deceit, experience hardship and conflict, and end up sullying their souls by their own hands..."

Tap. Tap. Mimiru could not help shivering at each footfall, a little louder than the own before.

"I pity you. Your ability as a magician could likely rise to still greater heights, but the stain on your soul is holding you back. Why do you try so hard to be 'grown up'? I want to know for your own sake as well."

Being told by a monster that something was "for her own sake" provoked a slight response from Mimiru. That is to say, a faint light of determination returned to her frightened eyes, although it was hardly as if she had regained sufficient strength to overturn her situation.

As far as Mimiru was concerned, monsters were the enemy, and only the enemy. So whatever her opponent might say to her would be to her opponent's advantage, and would bring no benefit to Mimiru. A high-ranking monster like the one standing before her was incapable of uncalculated kindness. She could never trust such a creature when it told her that something was "for her own sake."

However.

"So..."

Whether she trusted or not, Mimiru was powerless to refuse Lucella's "generosity."

When Lucella's feet came to a halt, Mimiru had been driven back to the barrier's edge. There was nowhere left to run. Lucella gazed at Mimiru, and her lips twisted into a crescent. Her eyes seemed sympathetic, and yet a scrap of her inner sadism managed to peek through.

"...I'll need you to let me take a peek into your mind."

That was when the strange thing happened.

Slither.

However advanced her magical knowledge, and even if she had enough remaining mana to extricate herself, she was still a girl of tender years. There was no way her bodily strength and stamina would be sufficient to break free. And that was to say nothing of her present condition — her mana, although it had been high at birth and only grown as the years passed, was already exhausted. She had not even held enough back to defend herself in her assault on the black goat monster who now floated before her, arms crossed, looking down at her. So there was no way at all for her to evade an attack.

She didn't even have time to cry out. In the blink of an eye, her arms and legs were bound by... tentacles. Black, similar to the black of the baphomet's clothes, and clad in a strange, slimy, deep purple fluid, they removed her clogs and were twined about her cream-colored knee socks.

Beginning where the jet-black tentacles touched, the knee socks began to melt. Almost like a flesh-colored stain spreading, their surface area was rapidly decreasing. As the stuff that separated skin from tentacle disappeared without accomplishing its function, the touch of the tentacles fell directly on Mimiru's flesh.

Disgusting. Mimiru's face grew even more drawn in response to a touch which seemed to make manifest a human's inborn sense of revulsion. They were jelly-like, as if an amorphous mass of protein had been crammed into an enamel membrane, and coated like a slug in a fluid which dripped to the ground in sticky strings and covered the girl's dainty feet so thickly that they seemed plastered in slime. And the tentacles were expanding the scope of their bonds.

Two tentacles wrapped around the girl's chest, as if to further restrain her. During an interval in the shrieks rising from the town, the fizzing of the ribbon-adorned clothes that covered her bosom dissolving away reached her ears.

"Be at ease. Those creatures are of the same substance as my mana. They don't eat people. They won't dissolve your body... although they might melt your heart. See?"

The summoner of the tentacles flashed an ominous grin, and Mimiru grit her teeth. But she was rapidly losing the strength to do even that. Her body seemed to be growing heavier, spreading from her feet to her legs, and from fingers to her hands and arms. Her strength was being sucked out. Just as leeches with blood, the black tentacles touching Mimiru's supple skin were latching onto her body and sucking up what little physical and magical strength she had left. In those tentacles resided a devilry that stole away the power to resist, like powerful ropes in the age of the old monsters.

A passionate embrace that made bones grind and creak audibly, such as lamiae performed on humans in the age of the old Dark Lords... the tentacles' grasp was not that strong, but because it caused Mimiru no pain, she could not distract herself from other sensations — ticklishness and shame. In the end, regardless of her performance on the frontlines of numerous battles, Mimiru was a child. Although not as tender as a baby's, her skin was far more sensitive than an adult's. Sensitive enough that she could not help feeling even the almost-imperceptible heat of the black tentacles on her skin.

Mimiru's socks, which had been reduced to a substance half fiber and half goo, were spreading a hot, sizzling sensation across the soles of her feet. It was as if, despite their whole substance having eroded into a deep purple ooze, the socks were still struggling to wrap her feet in an effort to faithfully accomplish their appointed role. But the ooze was not socks. Their earnest desire to fulfill their duties, rather than protecting her, was putting her in an even more trying position.

Her clothes were melting into a deep purple fluid that attacked her. I was like an anti-monster nation being invaded by monsters. More than once, Mimiru had seen a nation  that had been an ally until a few days before raise the standard of rebellion against the church, the brunt of their aggression now directed against Lescatié. And now Mimiru was that in miniature.

"Tee hee hee. Intelligent as you are, I'm sure you know what that ooze covering your legs is going to do...♪"

Mimiru did not answer. No, she could not answer. She was desperately suppressing the words that were on the verge of spilling from her mouth, earnestly clenching her teeth with all her strength, even as it was being sucked out of her. The viscous fluid clinging to her bared arms and legs made her nerves overly sensitive and imparted an oozing ache, and the tentacles had twined up to her shoulders and thighs, fondling them with abandon. In her teary eyes, however, light still dwelt. The light shot through the baphomet, but there was no way the monster, in an overwhelmingly superior position, would heed her powerless gaze. In the end, she was just kicking her heels against the ground.

As if to mock her determination not to let out a scream, the tentacles were one by one expanding the scope of their encroachment on Mimiru's body. Slurping, oozing, they pressed against various parts of her body and repeatedly caressed them, as if motivated by a covetous affection. Their heavy, slippery smoothness and light, clinging stickiness made Mimiru feel as if her arms and legs were receiving thousands of loving kisses. An unpleasant sound like stick candy being licked right next to her ear echoed in her surroundings.

The tentacles were reaching up from her thighs to her buttocks. They made her clothes turn to goo wherever they touched, but a few places still eluded them. The body's exit, the anus, and the entrance to her holy citadel... the labia.

"That comes last. There's nothing to be afraid of; my tentacles won't steal your precious virginity."

Lucella whispered kindly to Mimiru, apparently indifferent to whether she could be heard. Mimiru, of course, was in no state to listen. The parts of her body in contact with the slime of her rapidly melting clothes, which was steadily increasing her sensitivity wherever it touched, seemed to Mimiru to be generating an unnaturally high heat.