The large-scale mock duel at Atlas that I proposed.
Atlas named it ‘Makia’ and began preparations.
Makia. From my point of view, the word ‘Gigantomachia’ comes to mind first, so it feels too grand in scale, but on this continent it seems to be a commonly used term.
And while the preparations for Makia were underway for several days, I received a report from Arald.
“I’m in league with Carla?”
“Lady Achaia seems to think so.”
According to Arald’s explanation, the spell I cast to block the magic she tried on Pielot must have looked highly suspicious to her.
At that, I looked up at the ceiling for a moment and said.
“That doesn’t sit right.”
“Yes, I agree.”
“The reason I used demonic power on her was purely as a warning. Because she tried to use magic recklessly on a student. Even if it hadn’t been Pielot, if someone had done something suspicious like that in the faculty office, I would have done the same.”
Of course, the only reason I noticed it so quickly was because the target had been Pielot, but even if it were another student, my response wouldn’t have changed.
But Lady Achaia, after seeing my action, lumped me together with Carla.
“Could she have some ulterior motive?”
“That’s possible. But what’s certain is that she’s wary of Carla. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have shown part of her hand by meeting you all.”
The idea that she was linking me and Carla together for some specific purpose—this hypothesis wasn’t convincing to me.
From Lady Achaia’s point of view, I’m a complete stranger, and she gains nothing by needlessly increasing her enemies.
She probably genuinely believes I’m on the same side as Carla. But if so, what’s her reason? Not that flimsy excuse that I interrupted her.
“......Maybe.”
A thought suddenly occurred to me, and I spoke.
“Maybe she encountered ‘demonic power’ before me.”
“......Ah, I see.”
Arald nodded as if he understood.
The demonic power I used on Lady Achaia had been faint, but perhaps she felt some kind of déjà vu from it.
If she had experienced demonic power before, she might have recognized mine as something of the same kind and concluded I was a demon. Since, from her perspective, Carla being a demon is certain, it would be natural to assume that I, who suddenly appeared at Atlas, was one too—and thus link us together.
“Then tell me,”
Lirih, who had been listening, spoke.
“What do you think? Is Carla a demon?”
That question was directed at me. After all, I’m the only one here who’s actually met her.
I recalled Carla’s appearance for a moment.
Setting aside her remarkable beauty and odd behavior, did I feel any sense of strangeness from her herself? From her eyes, her mana, her presence?
“......She did feel a bit strange.”
After thinking it over, I said that. At that, Lirih’s eyes sparkled.
“Then does that make it more likely she’s a demon?”
But I shook my head.
“No, I think it actually makes it less likely.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t feel any sense of strangeness from Arald or Lirih.”
“......Ah, huh? That’s true.”
Both of them are demons. In Arald’s case that’s obvious, but with Lirih, I had talked with her at length before I was ever sure she was a demon, without feeling anything.
Until a demon shows concrete proof of their nature, a human can never distinguish them with the naked eye. Even my intuition feels nothing.
“If she’s studying knowledge about demons, it’d actually be strange if she were one.”
“Maybe she’s trying to learn what humans know about demons, to find their blind spots?”
“That’s possible, but if she were a demon, wouldn’t she be more interested in studying humans instead? Arald, Lirih—have either of you, being demons yourselves, ever tried to study what humans know about demons?”
Both shook their heads.
But even so, Arald said.
“Mr. Frondier. If ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) Carla really were researching demons in order to oppose them, there’d be no reason for such strange, secretive dealings. Nor any need to hide it.”
Right. That’s the strange part.
What feels suspicious about Carla is that she engages in transactions she can’t easily reveal to others—and that she’s so impatient she’s starting to show it.
Carla is certainly a suspicious person. That can’t be denied.
But to declare her a demon outright would be just as odd.
Carla is different from demons.
'Carla had too frail a body. It’s only data built from experience, but demons generally don’t have such traits. The fact that they naturally grasp Aura quickly means they’re close to mana. In other words, most demons inevitably resemble well-trained humans.'
If Carla were a demon—even if I couldn’t confirm it definitively—my instincts should at least have sensed some degree of mana from her. But Carla’s body was weak, and the mana I felt was faint. So faint that, rather than being hidden, it was weaker than that of an ordinary person—suspiciously so.
'At first I thought that frailty simply accentuated her beauty, but thinking about it again—maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe that beauty is what hides her weakness.'
A frail body, faint mana, a quiet life that avoided notice until a trigger appeared.
I thought Lirih and Arald would know demons best—but looking at it like this...
“......She’s like me.”
“What? Carla?”
“To be precise—the me who was under the Curse of Sloth.”
Of course, Belphegor’s curse had been so elaborate and powerful that no one could even realize it was a curse. Naturally, Carla couldn’t have been struck by that same curse. There’s no connection between them.
But she could be cursed.
Maybe she’s studying demons to find a way to break it.
Tok
I lightly tapped the chair with my fingertip.
“This is a dilemma.”
“What is, sir?”
“Whether to treat her as an enemy or not.”
“......Normally you’d find out whether she’s an enemy first.”
“Why should I?”
I tilted my head.
“Carla herself probably doesn’t even know.”
***
As a result of the preparations and discussions regarding Makia, it was decided that Makia would be held over three days.
Even with only class representatives, the scale was too large. It was impossible to finish in a single day.
Moreover, hardly any classes chose their representatives by vote or meeting—most wanted proper duels to decide them. That passion was a good sign.
And on the first day of Makia, since I was the one who had proposed it, I had the most to do, busily moving around inside Atlas.
......In truth, that was only the surface reason, a convenient excuse. I was looking for Carla.
'There’s no way you’d still be hiding by today, Carla.'
I didn’t think Carla would skip this event.
More than anything, this event was attended by numerous famous nobles. She’d gone around nurturing relationships with nobles all this time; if she didn’t appear here, everything she’d done would lose meaning.
'......Found you.'
And then I spotted her.
While walking down the corridor, I saw a woman approaching cautiously from afar. Even from that distance, it was unmistakably Carla.
But when I looked closely, she was wearing sunglasses—and when she noticed me, she lowered her head slightly and tried to walk right past.
“......Principal?”
“.......”
At my call, Carla stopped walking.
Then, as if realizing that stopping had been a mistake, she tried to start walking again to pass me.
“What’s with those sunglasses.”
“......Uh, who are you?”
When I asked, Carla clumsily pretended not to know me.
“You think that’s enough of a disguise?”
“.......”
The sunglasses made it hard to see, but it looked like her face was turning red.
“If you’re going to ignore me, you should’ve kept walking. Why’d you stop without realizing it?”
And now she’s trying to walk again as if she hadn’t stopped. I can’t tell if she’s brazen or just honest.
“Never mind, just take off the sunglasses. I won’t say anything.”
“Ah, no, I can’t!”
Carla pressed both hands over her sunglasses like protecting them, turning her head away. I hadn’t even moved a finger, but it almost felt like I’d tried to rip them off her by force.
“Do you have a reason for wearing them? Besides disguise?”
“......The sunlight hurts my eyes.”
“This is indoors.”
“The sunlight through the windows hurts my eyes.”
Does that even make sense?
But come to think of it, I’d heard of people like that—those with overly sensitive skin, or allergies to sunlight.
Maybe Carla was similar, using sunglasses to ease it?
“Are you normally sensitive to sunlight? Do you wear sunglasses regularly?”
“......Ah! Yes, yes, that’s right.”
Carla nodded vigorously, as if seizing on a convenient excuse.
Suspicious to no end, but I wasn’t that interested in pressing further. Sunglasses were her choice.
I’d only been curious about the reason—if she said so, then so be it.
Still, if that were a lie, wouldn’t other teachers notice it right away?
Well, maybe she wouldn’t tell a lie that flimsy.
“Oh my, Principal!”
At that moment, another teacher spotted us and called out.
“It’s been a while! Huh? I’ve never seen you in sunglasses before, but of course they look good on you!”
“......Y-yes, yes.”
“Big event today, huh? Let’s do our best. You too, Mr. Frondier!”
“Yes, thank you.”
So it was a flimsy lie.
“First time wearing sunglasses, yet you’re ‘sensitive to sunlight.’”
“......I used to just endure it.”
“You said you normally wear them.”
“......I’ve just never run into that teacher when wearing them.”
Her logic was falling apart.
I scratched my head and looked at Carla.
'It’s not just the sunglasses—she hasn’t once actually looked at me.'
Carla hadn’t met my eyes even once. Actually, had I even entered her line of sight today?
At first I thought the sunglasses were just a disguise, but even after being caught she absolutely refused to remove them.
If this isn’t about sunlight, then maybe the problem isn’t about being seen by others—but about seeing something herself.
......If Carla isn’t a demon.
The sunglasses, the avoidance of my eyes, that beauty beyond normal bounds.
......A curse.
“......Principal.”
“......Yes?”
“Is that an alias?”
“W-what is?”
“The name Carla.”
At that, Carla startled, glanced toward me, then quickly looked away again.
No mistake.
This isn’t about emotions or mood—there’s a real reason she absolutely must not look at me.
“W-what are you talking about?”
Carla feigned ignorance.
And, as expected, her acting became even clumsier than before.
“......Principal, do you know about Poseidon?”
“I-I don’t!”
“How could you not? He’s such a famous god.”
Ah. Carla bit her lip.
To be shaken by such a simple leading question.
“......Do you know about Atena?”
“......!”
And this time, a clearer reaction. A twitching shoulder, an involuntary flinch of one eyelid, tension under the cheekbone, and her jaw tightening.
......Rage and hatred.
“I see.”
I stepped back and bowed my head.
“Huh?”
“Today’s a big event. Let’s do well.”
“......Uh.......”
I turned my back and walked away from Carla.
A big event.
I lightly loosened my hands, sensing with certainty that it would indeed become one.
