Master 51

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Inside the stadium, in a rarely frequented storage room.  

“…Who are you?”  

“I brought him.”  

As a sharp voice questioned from within, sensing the presence of someone, the black mage standing outside with Whitney, whose magic restraints were in place, lowered his voice to respond.  

“…Come inside and don’t forget to seal the door again.”  

With that, an ominous black sigil briefly flickered before the storage room door slowly creaked open.  

“Wow, a whole bunch of black mages.”  

Whitney, entering with the two black mages holding him, briefly glanced around before flashing an inappropriate smile, given the circumstances.  

“The academy, supposedly the most secure place, is crawling with you guys. I can’t even imagine how many of you are lurking elsewhere.”  

The room was filled with individuals in low-profile positions—maids, janitors, guards—people who would not normally attract attention. They all shot Whitney cold glares.  

“You don’t seem to grasp the situation. You’ve been kidnapped.”  

“Haha, I think I understand that part quite well.”  

“…You’ve got quite the mouth.”  

Even as he was forced into a chair and bound by his captors, Whitney maintained a composed expression. A black mage dressed as a maid glared at him and stepped closer.  

“Let’s see if you can still talk so much after I cut out your tongue.”  

She pulled a small dagger from her pocket and pressed it against Whitney’s neck, whispering icily.  

“Well, I doubt you even have the guts to do that.”  

“Oh? Is that so?”  

Her eyes darkened at his provocation, her aura suddenly brimming with murderous intent.  

—Crash!  

The next moment, she gripped the dagger differently and drove it straight into Whitney’s shoulder.  

“How does that feel? Hurts, doesn’t it? Show me some pain…”  

“…Mm.”  

“Haah. I love seeing fragile little brats like you cry out in agony…”  

Some of the black mages frowned at her sudden action, but most merely glanced at Whitney, as if accustomed to such scenes.  

“……”  

“What’s this? Holding up pretty well for a delicate little noble?”  

Surprised at his lack of response, the maid tightened her grip on the dagger’s hilt and twisted it.  

—Crunch.  

It seemed that enduring that much was beyond human capability. Whitney lowered his head slightly, but he still didn’t make a sound, nor did he open his mouth even once.  

“You still gonna hold out? If you cry even a little, I’ll stop. Hmm?”  

“This bastard…”  

Frustrated, she suddenly straddled Whitney, tightening her grip around his throat.  

“You don’t need to put on a scared face, just let out a little groan, huh?”  

“You gonna die? Are you? Huh!?”  

Even then, Whitney only swayed weakly, showing no reaction. The black mages, observing closely, began murmuring among themselves.  

“…Is he already unconscious?”  

“I don’t even know if his eyes are open or closed…”  

As they debated, one of them waved a hand in front of Whitney’s half-closed eyes.  

“…If I passed out from something this trivial, I’d be unqualified as a white mage.”  

Whitney slowly lifted his head, flashing a pale smile as he finally spoke.  

“That aside… I was a little nervous when you mentioned torture, but I guess low-tier black mages don’t have much in their arsenal.”  

“…Look at this guy.”  

The maid black mage torturing him smirked in amusement and stepped closer.  

“You’re really lighting a fire in me…”  

She placed one knee on the chair and gently stroked Whitney’s cheek, a twisted smile forming on her lips.  

“Of all the playthings I’ve broken, you might be the most entertaining one yet…”  

“……”

“I’m gonna borrow him for a bit, alright? Just for a little while, okay?”  

She turned to her fellow black mages, her eyes gleaming.  

“We don’t have time for this. We need to move forward with the plan.”  

“…Ugh, damn it. Just a little longer…”  

“…Enough already.”  

“Tch…”  

Her comrades, who had been keeping an eye on the time, intervened, cutting short her sadistic amusement.  

“Quiet, everyone. We’re summoning Lord Pedro now.”  

“Step back if you don’t want to get caught up in this.”  

As the tension in the room settled momentarily, the two black mages who had brought Whitney began drawing a magic circle on the ground, issuing orders to the others.  

“Once he’s done with his business, you can do whatever you want with him.”  

“…Haha! You promise?”  

Some frowned at that statement, but at least the maid black mage who had been tormenting Whitney stepped back with a gleeful expression.  

“As expected… it’s him.”  

Amidst it all, Whitney, exhaling heavily, suddenly smiled.  

“He’s the only one among the executives who can cross spaces without restriction.”  

“…?”  

“He must have been part of the plan from the beginning, right?”  

At his leading question, the black mages exchanged glances before responding in cold voices.  

“Where did you hear that?”  

“Even we don’t have much information on the executives.”  

Whitney scanned their faces and continued speaking with a knowing look.  

“The Puppeteer, the Death Knight, the Shadow Witch, the Jester, and Pedro Gomez, who just became an executive and doesn’t even have an alias yet. There are five in total, right?”  

No response came.  

Not because they had been caught off guard, but because none of them—being from Pedro’s faction—had the authority to confirm if his statement was correct.  

“…Hmm. So, he really is your superior. Still, I was hoping to cross-check that information.”  

Reading their expressions, Whitney sighed slightly in disappointment before furrowing his brows.  

“Well, I don’t need to deal with you lot any longer. Just summon Pedro already, will you?”  

“…Did the torture make him lose his mind?”  

“Seriously, I told you to be patient…”  

Several black mages glanced at the maid, their eyes filled with faint irritation. But she merely shrugged, feigning innocence.  

“Does it really matter? Either way, we’ll toy with him and kill him in the end.”  

“…No. That’s not for you to decide.”  

Suddenly, a new voice cut off her words.  

“What the hell…? Gah—!”  

The maid black mage scowled at the interruption and turned to retort—only to be silenced before she could finish.  

“The right to decide life or death… always belongs to my master.”  

“What—!? Are you insane!?”  

Before anyone could react, another maid, who had been standing beside her, snatched her dagger and drove it straight into her neck.

“Wait, who the hell are you?”  

“…Damn it. She’s not one of us!?”  

“But I definitely sensed black magic…”  

The black mages, initially bewildered, finally sprang into action when the woman casually pulled out her bloodied dagger and radiated killing intent.  

—Fwoosh…  

As an ominous aura began to swirl around her blade, they all simultaneously froze, realizing that something was very, very wrong.  

“Runiel, leave one alive.”  

“…Understood.”  

“There’s still information we haven’t extracted. Haha…”  

Just a few seconds after Whitney’s amused voice echoed from behind them—  

—Crackle!  

Not a single black mage remained standing inside the storage room.  

*****  

“Gah…!”  

“…Uh, hey, Runiel?”  

Barely seconds after I had given the order, the storage room was drenched in blood. I hesitantly turned to Runiel, who was ensuring that the last surviving black mage was thoroughly finished off.  

“…Didn’t I say to leave one alive?”  

—Master… I’m scared…  

Her presence had been so overwhelmingly terrifying that even the spider monster, which had been hiding in Runiel’s arms to masquerade as a black mage, scurried over to me and clung to my leg in fear.  

“There’s one survivor.”  

Runiel, finally looking in my direction, pointed her dagger toward the far wall.  

“Guh… krrk…”  

“Oh? Turns out a stab to the throat doesn’t necessarily mean instant death if controlled properly. Though, with all that blood loss, they’ll be unconscious soon.”  

The black mage maid who had tortured me, now clutching her bleeding throat, writhed weakly on the floor, making choking sounds.  

“…If you administer first aid properly, you should be able to interrogate her.”  

With that, Runiel unceremoniously dragged the woman over and dumped her onto the chair I had previously been bound to. She then knelt beside me and removed the magic restraints on my wrists.  

“Alright, this will sting a little.”  

“—Aaaaargh!”  

“Oh, right. You’re a black mage.”  

I had instinctively cast white magic to heal her, only to watch her convulse violently as dark smoke billowed from her body. Scratching my head in embarrassment, I muttered,  

“Haven’t used healing magic in a while. Since I’m a white mage, I don’t usually need it myself.”  

“Ugh… ughhh…”  

“Now then, why don’t you tell us what you were all planning to do here?”  

After treating her wounds as if nothing had happened, the maid finally regained her senses and glared at me with bared teeth.  

“You think… I’ll tell you?”  

“…It seems the treatment wasn’t thorough enough.”  

“Yeah, I think so too.”  

Strictly speaking, white mages have an unspoken rule against torturing others.  

But there are always exceptions.  

“AAAAAHHHHHH!!”  

For instance, when it serves the greater good—or when the target is a black mage.  

“To show mercy even to your own torturer… As expected of you, Master.”  

“…You don’t have to put it like that.”  

Applying a bit of ‘flexibility’ to the rules, I gave her wound another ‘soothing’ white magic treatment. Meanwhile, I simply smiled wryly at Runiel’s commentary.  

“To be honest, I was quite surprised when you got stabbed in the shoulder, Master.”  

“Even seasoned knights would have screamed in that situation. Yet you didn’t even make a sound. Truly admirable.”  

“…Haha.”  

Not something I particularly wanted to remember, but in my past life, I had suffered from Complex Regional Pain Syndrome—CRPS.  

The kind of pain that made even the slightest breeze or a gentle brush of fabric feel like being flayed alive.  

Having endured that agony from childhood until death, I had simply become the kind of person who could tolerate a dagger piercing his shoulder.  

Of course, when I had shared the pain of carving a ritual into Runiel’s soul, that had been a bit more difficult.  

“I-I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything I know!”  

The same black mage who had so eagerly tortured me was now breaking down at just this level of pain.  

“You enjoy inflicting pain on others, but can’t handle it yourself?”  

“P-Please… I was wrong…”  

“If you understand that, you’d better start talking.”  

Annoyed by the memories that had resurfaced, I spoke coldly, prompting the woman to tremble violently as she began spilling information.  

“W-We were summoning Lord Pedro here to call forth a demon!”  

“For what purpose?”  

“I-I don’t know! We’re just grunts—AAAGH!”  

Since the information seemed lacking, I ‘helped’ her remember, and sure enough, something more useful came out.  

“We… We were ordered to prevent the selection tournament from proceeding! That’s all I know, I swear!”  

“And who gave that order?”  

“L-Lady Rebecca! I overheard her speaking with Lord Pedro…!”  

This confirmed it.  

The black mages were well aware of the existence of the Hero and the Demon King.  

And unlike in the original story, they also knew that a Hero would emerge from the tournament winners.  

Something new was at play here.  

“…Anything else you’d like to ask? Heh…”  

“…Not really.”  

“…Huh?”  

Honestly, I wanted to extract more information, but squeezing an empty sponge wouldn’t yield anything useful.  

“…So, what happens to me now?”  

I exchanged a glance with Runiel, who quietly nodded. Her eyes gleamed coldly.  

—Slash.  

“…Ah.”  

The maid let out a short gasp as the dagger reentered her previous wound. Her head slumped forward lifelessly.  

“…If I may, Master, I believe we should avoid operations like this in the future.”  

As I gazed at the scene with a strange feeling of unease, Runiel hesitantly placed a hand on my shoulder and spoke softly.  

“…Losing one’s purpose in life is terrifying. I’d rather be the bait myself.”  

Her expression carried a deep-seated anxiety as she gazed at me.  

It was oddly touching.  

Of course, the root of her sentiment likely lay in the fear of having no one left to wield her as a sword, but still, I had never had someone worry about me like this before.  

…Other than my late mother.  

For the first time, I truly felt the presence of subordinates I could call my own.  

“…Haha. I’ll try my best.”  

“…Thank you.”  

Acknowledging her concern, I made what was likely an impossible promise before turning toward the door.  

“Well, now that we’ve cleared out the black mages, it’s time to head out.”  

Channeling white magic into my hand, I prepared to break the barrier sealing the door.  

“…Huh?”  

But just as I took a step forward, I suddenly froze and turned back, eyes widening.  

—Fwoosh…  

The summoning circle drawn by the black mages to call Pedro was now glowing ominously.  

“…H-Huh? Huh?”  

But it shouldn’t have activated unless someone infused it with black magic…  

“…Master, we must leave immediately.”  

As I hesitated in shock, Runiel urgently stepped in front of me, voice filled with urgency.  

“I will hold this place as best as I can.”  

“I can’t let you—”  

“Please! This presence is not ordinary!”  

I wanted to trust her judgment, but Runiel was not at full strength.  

She hadn’t fully regained consciousness, couldn’t use her peak abilities, and was armed with nothing but a stolen dagger.  

If she faced an executive in this condition, even Runiel would struggle.  

—Crackle…  

As dark smoke began to rise from the summoning circle and I braced myself for battle, my jaw clenched.  

“…We can handle this together.”  

“Master…!”  

Had I not exhausted my mana controlling the doppelgänger earlier, I could have prevented the summoning outright.  

But that didn’t matter anymore.  

What mattered was supporting Runiel in any way I could.  

“G-Great Shadow, you have summoned me…!”  

“…!?”  

As the smoke cleared, Pedro appeared—  

And immediately prostrated himself before me, trembling.  

“…Huh?”  

Runiel turned to me, realization dawning in her eyes.  

“…So, it really is true.”  

“Wait, what’s true? Runiel, this is a misunderstanding—”  

“It’s fine. I will always remain your blade.”  

…Why does this keep happening to me?

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