I Became the Teacher of the Imperial Family’s Bastard

030. The Unsetting Sun (4)

At first, it was invisible.

It was clear that it wasn’t magic, but some sort of trickery. After the demon waved its hand, the sudden loss of control over mana was bewildering.

One thing was certain: it did not belong to this world.

It must have been something unique to the demons.

A sense of crisis was felt.

In the midst of that, there was a change.

‘Switch.’

With the thought of somehow blocking it, I infused mana into the switch, and didn’t my eyes show me the demon’s ‘grain’?

It was blurry.

Also, the shape was different, and the result felt alien.

But, to conclude, it was also a ‘grain.’

[Screeeeech!!!]

The demon clutched the spot where its horn had fallen off and screamed in pain.

The surrounding mana rippled, turning the ground over.

The scream felt like it was scratching my soul.

My gaze naturally went to the switch in my hand.

‘What on earth is this thing?’

I thought it had no features other than being hard.

I was mistaken.

This was something that responded to the ‘eye.’

‘First Pharos?’

That name briefly crossed my mind, but I soon brushed off the thought.

I saw the demon again.

‘That one first.’

I steadied my breath.

I infused mana into the necklace, but it was far from fully healing my internal injuries.

It was just enough to hold my broken body together for a little longer.

There was no other choice.

‘It’s a miracle I’m not dead after using both the sword’s aura and the aura.’

It was a creature that used 6th-tier magic.

To face it, I needed aura, and the aura I conjured with my unprepared body gnawed at me as well.

Adding the sword’s aura to that made my muscles and joints feel like they were being ground down.

Blood pooled in my mouth.

But I couldn’t show it.

Swallowing the blood, I spoke.

“…Going again.”

[Wait! Wait a moment!]

Bang!

In an instant, I stepped right in front of the demon.

The demon cast its spell.

Was it in a hurry?

It didn’t have the strange texture like before.

If it was pure magic, it would be even easier.

**Chaaeng!**

**Dodge, slash, and parry.**

**The demon countered all of it once again.**

**It was chaos.**

**Kwa-gwa-gwa-gwang!**

**The garden began to be so damaged that its original shape was unrecognizable.**

**My breath and vision blurred.**

**But I held onto my mind.**

**That is,**

**―A knight on the battlefield only closes his eyes when he dies.**

**That’s what I learned.**

**Kwaaang―!**

**I shattered the bud-shaped barrier.**

**I strengthened my vision.**

**I wrapped mana around the switch.**

**―――――!**

**The world seemed to slow down to the point where it felt like time around me had slowed.**

**I gradually became accustomed to the trick.**

**It wasn’t because I was exceptional.**

‘Resembling.’

The mechanism connecting the switch and the eyes was, surprisingly, remarkably similar to the use of the ‘sword’s will.’

Thus, the will is imbued into the eyes and the weapon.

It imposes a coercive force on the sword technique.

He took a breath.

‘Kill.’

No, sever.

That demon and Beatrice.

Thus, he steadies his resolve.

‘…It appeared.’

There was something revealed, becoming a hazy mist. The color of twilight, among which a particularly red blaze stood out.

‘Arm, horn, wing.’

Three parts completely consumed by the demon.

The horn was severed.

The wing and arm remained.

In this stance, the arm could not be cut.

It was too close, and that arm was already reaching out towards my neck.

‘Evade.’

Surpassed the demon.

Gazing at the exposed back, the junction where wings sprouted.

Thus,

Squelch―!

[Screeeech―!]

The wings were severed.

One arm remained.

* * *

Beatrice clenched her teeth to stifle a groan.

Her mind went blank.

She felt that if she let her guard down for even a moment, she would lose consciousness.

Blood tears were flowing from her still-intact left eye.

She could vividly feel the sticky, wet substance trickling down her cheek.

She wanted to give up.

She wondered if it would be easier to lose consciousness like this.

But, she couldn’t.

‘Stay…’

She had to hold on.

It was the only thing she could do.

Beatrice was witnessing the most in this battle.

The position of a bystander engraved even the undisclosed information into her mind.

The demon is in pain.

This sense of crisis clearly showed that Yuren’s move was effective.

There was something she knew from sharing the demon’s eyes and vision.

‘Switch.’

[Why is the Sacred Tree in the lower world!!!]

That switch was called the Sacred Tree.

And as her mind assimilated and felt together, the demon felt uneasy about it.

Yuren was undoubtedly an unexpected variable for the demon.

Beatrice was the same.

Until he first appeared, victory was uncertain.

It was just despair and guilt.

Of course, the guilt remains the same.

But, as for the despair.

‘I can end it with just me.’

Just by sacrificing this one life, it could be ended.

That emotion eventually restored control over her body.

A demon that lives on despair, therefore, when hope appears, its compulsion inevitably diminishes.

Wooong―!

The demon’s arm conjured a magic circle.

Beatrice tried to stop him with her regained control.

But, she was suppressed.

“Ugh…!”

[Can’t you at least stay still?!]

The demon’s voice was filled with irritation.

Beatrice covered her ears and continued to resist.

She was not used to making excuses.

Rather than justifying her actions, she thought she should take responsibility for her sins with her life.

That was the reason she endured.

‘Die, together.’

[Ha! I’m not dying, you know?]

Yes, he would just return to the other dimension.

But that wouldn’t be the end.

‘Your spirit will be damaged. Because it’s the sacred tree…!’

[……!!!]

‘You said it yourself, your mind is entangled.’

The demon’s fundamental sense of crisis comes from that whip.

The wounds inflicted by it are engraved on the spirit.

Of course, the demon is a transcendent being.

This alone cannot cause any serious harm, but at least a significant scar will remain on the demon’s soul, requiring time to heal.

[Don’t make me laugh!!!]

BoooM!!!

Mana and the demon’s power fused together.

Without any rules, without any order.

It was just an explosion of raw power, sweeping everything in its path.

But,

Thud!

“Got you, you b*stard.”

Yuren intercepted him with his body, breaking through the space. He grabbed the demon’s wrist, who was startled and tried to strike him.

He stepped on Beatrice’s stomach and neck with both feet.

The whip touched under his armpit.

The demon spoke in a trembling voice.

[Wait, just wait. Let’s talk for a moment…]

“Get lost.”

Crackle!!!

[aaah!!!]

Once again, mana wrapped around the whip, and Yuren coughed up blood.

But Yuren did not stop.

With bloodshot eyes bulging, he twisted his face into a vicious grimace and summoned his aura.

In that moment, Beatrice knew.

‘…The end.’

Yuren murmured.

“Go.”

Crunch―!

Her shoulder, crushed by the aura, was ripped out by Yuren’s strength.

An unbearable level of pain consumed Beatrice’s mind.

[This… is insane…]

The last sight Beatrice saw was this.

Splatter―!

Black blood splattered across the space.

Behind it, the red sky cracked and crumbled…

‘…Stars.’

Behind the shattered sky, the stars of the night sky shone brilliantly.

* * *

It was a night when the stars were dazzlingly bright.

Beatrice felt a strange sense of déjà vu as she ran, sobbing.

‘Ah, this is a dream.’

She knew it instantly and observed the events that followed in that state. She had no will of her own.

Just like the moment before she was possessed by a demon, she could only watch as her body moved on its own.

Eventually, she realized what point in time it was.

‘Ah, it’s that time.’

It was shortly after she ascended to the third rank.

A time when she was evaluated as a prodigy who would challenge the fourth rank at the youngest age, and thus received that much jealousy.

At that time, she was so young, and the pressure from the world was heavy.

Especially the expectations from the Magic Tower and her family.

―You must prove yourself. That’s what it means to be a magician. Beatrice, you must surpass the fourth rank. If you cannot overcome the wall of the commoners, you will end up as just a peculiar part of history.

―Beatrice! The glory of Gilfour rests on your shoulders! Just a little more effort!

―Amazing! You will surely become a masterpiece! The next era will surely be your era!

Everyone said.

That she must surpass the fourth rank.

That she must be great as a magician.

She tried not to betray their expectations.

While other noble ladies studied etiquette, she learned magic. When she wanted new clothes, she borrowed new magic books. When she went for a walk, she locked herself in the Magic Tower’s room.

Every moment she didn’t do so, the sharp gazes from around her were too terrifying.

―In the end, just a child.

―Ah, in the end, only a fragment of a genius.

―Beatrice, please…

He didn’t even know what drove him anymore.

Magic was no longer fun, nor interesting.

He performed it mechanically.

But his heart couldn’t follow suit.

His festering heart had rotted to the point where he couldn’t handle it anymore.

It choked him, making him want to run away.

Yet, there was nowhere to run.

Not home, not the streets, not the magic tower.

Everywhere was filled with people, and there wasn’t a single person who didn’t know him.

So Beatrice found a place where no one was.

That place was the ceiling of the magic tower.

The celestial garden that only the tower master could enter.

The place he fled to gave him some breathing room, but his chest still ached.

Each of the dazzlingly bright stars felt like someone’s gaze.

The word “brilliance” was utterly repulsive.

And so, he cried his heart out.

It was at that moment.

―Oh my, why are you crying?

Meeting that person.

―Hoo hoo, did you get pricked by a thorn? Let me see. The roses in this garden aren’t trimmed, so you might get hurt.

Beatrice felt the twisted fragments of her memories click into place as she saw her face while drifting through a dream.

It felt like tears were welling up.

―T-Tower Master…?

―Yes, Beatrice. Our little treasure.

A face full of wrinkles.

An affectionate grandmother who always wore a pointed hat and laughed like a witch from a fairy tale.

Someone who was too busy to show her face at the tower often.

―You must have had a hard time.

It was this person.

The one who caressed her cheek with wrinkled hands and wiped away her tears.

―Come here. It’s okay.

The one who embraced her.

―What made you so sad?

What did she answer to that question?

…Yes.

―Th-that is… Hiccup…

Sobbing uncontrollably, she clung on, saying it was too hard.

She complained like a child of that age.

She said she wanted to quit, and the tower master gave such an answer.

―It’s okay. It’s okay if you can’t do it. I’m here with you. It’s okay to cry now.

Those words were comforting.

The pointed hat that hid the brilliantly shining stars and gazes was the tower master’s.

The warmth of the embrace was hers, and the hand that lifted her up was hers.

Beatrice realized this only now.

Tears flowed.

She resented herself for wanting to forget even this and destroy everything she had built.

Barely… barely, she was filled with self-loathing for ruining everything by falling for such a temptation.

She couldn’t bear to face her.

“……”

Beatrice opened her eyes.

The night sky was shining brilliantly, just like that day.

Tears flowed down her cheeks.

One eye could not see.

There was no sensation in one arm.

When she turned her head, she saw that the place where her arm had been torn off was staunched with torn cloth.

“You’re finally awake.”

A man’s voice was heard.

Yuren was sitting on the floor, looking at her.

A body covered in wounds, and rough breaths.

Yet somehow, he seemed relaxed.

She could tell through him.

‘Ah, it’s over.’

Relief, and regret.

Realizing it was finally time to put an end to it, Beatrice spoke.

“Kill me.”

She would rather pay with her life.

But the reply was,

“Who said you could decide to die or not?”

Beatrice flinched.

Yuren added irritably,

“Hey, what’s the deal with making a mess and expecting someone else to clean it up?”

A dagger plunged deep into her chest.

End

ⓒ papapa.