国产午夜亚洲精品AⅤ

Chapter 187

“You’re dead.”

“...”

We changed into training clothes and sparred in the training grounds as usual. Even though we’d bought casual clothes, I didn’t know if we’d ever get a chance to wear them, since our daily routine was more or less set in stone. I wondered if a day would come when I’d even be able to try on the clothes we’d bought earlier.

There were three people in the training grounds, as always: Cliffman, Ellen and I.

Ellen and I would spar while Cliffman trained alone. Sometimes, Cliffman and I would spar, though things were still awkward between us. Cliffman still couldn’t even make eye contact with Ellen—his shyness was almost pathological.

After a prolonged bout, I reached my limit and collapsed on the floor of the training hall. I still couldn’t match her. I guess it was inevitable, after all, but Ellen\'s strength had grown even faster than mine, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Ellen sat down quietly next to me as I lay on the floor.

“What? Do you have something to say?”

Though she hadn’t spoken yet, it felt as if she had something on her mind, so I asked.

Ellen stayed silent for a while before asking, “Have you ever liked someone?”

I was stunned for a moment. “Why are you suddenly asking something like that?”

“Just curious.”

It was a question far beyond my expectations.

Had I ever liked someone before? Of course, I had. It was before I became who I was in this world, though.

“Yeah, I have.”

There’s no rule that said you couldn’t have had a first love before seventeen, so I just said it straightforwardly, since it wasn’t particularly strange.

Ellen didn’t seem particularly surprised. “So, how did it feel?”

“... It felt like crap.”

“Like crap?”

“Yeah, like crap. What else would it feel like?”

Maybe things were different if both parties had mutual feelings for each other and started a sweet relationship, but if you developed feelings for someone who had no interest in you, wouldn’t it feel like crap?

Ellen tilted her head, seemingly not understanding why it would feel like crap. “Shouldn’t it feel good?”

I got off the floor suddenly and faced her.

“Alright. Let’s think about this.”

“... Okay.”

“Someone appears in your dreams every night, right? When you wake up in the morning, they’re the first thing you think about. You think about them while eating, while working, and when you’re with them, you just feel good. Just making eye contact makes you feel good. You just keep thinking about them.”

Ellen stared at me with a quizzical look.

“Then, guess what? That person is already seeing someone else! Even if they aren’t, they have no interest in you at all! They treat you like garbage. Or maybe they find it annoying when you keep talking to them and they avoid you.”

Ellen looked lost.

“Now, won’t that feel like crap?” I asked.

‘Love is crap, you idiot! It’s a disease! Unrequited love is always a sickness!’

Ellen tilted her head at my sudden outburst. “Have you gotten rejected before?”

“That’s the next step after you actually confess, isn’t it? I couldn’t even confess. Satisfied?”

Who in their right mind would confess knowing they’d get rejected for sure? It was better just to wallow in your emotions until you forgot about it, that’s all.

Ellen paused for a moment. “Anyways, so you do know what it feels like to like someone.”

“Yeah. But why are you suddenly curious about that?”

Ellen stayed silent for a long while, then took my hand as I lay sprawled on the ground. It wasn’t unusual for her to randomly lean on me or do similar things as of late.

“Do you feel nervous?”

“... What?”

“Do you feel nervous when we do this?”

“What kind of nonsense is that? Why would I feel nervous? I’m not shaking!”

I mean, I did shake a little when I drank to the point of drunkenness, but that wasn’t the case now! I didn’t have any of that anymore! Balding, tremors, I left all that behind with my rebirth!

Ellen nodded to herself as if she realized something. “I don’t feel nervous either.”

‘What’s up with her? Did she eat something bad?’

***

After training, Ellen washed up and changed in her private room, then headed to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. Eating a late-night snack with Reinhart was part of her fixed routine. Unless Reinhart was particularly busy, they always ate together.

Riana de Granz had told her that when you liked someone, being with them made you feel nervous and tense.

Ellen had never felt that way when she was with Reinhart.

Reinhart said that when you liked someone, they appeared in your dreams and you thought about them all the time, anywhere. And if that person had no interest in you, it felt like crap. He seemed to dislike the very idea of liking someone.

Ellen didn’t think about Reinhart all the time, no matter where she was. Just making eye contact with him didn’t make her feel particularly good or anything like that.

That led her to hold his hand just now to check for sure, and neither Reinhart nor she had felt nervous or anything. It was as if it was something that happened all the time and was nothing special.

Ellen easily came to a conclusion.

She did like Reinhart, but not in that way.

That’s what Ellen thought.

She didn’t fully understand it either, but after combining various stories and her own emotions, that was the conclusion she reached.

But then, a question arose.

‘Have I been too unreserved with Reinhart, even though we’re just friends? Indeed, I’ve done many things with Reinhart that typical friends wouldn’t do, and I still act that way with him. Maybe I’ve been behaving strangely?’

Perhaps, in addition to not knowing how to interact properly with people, she also didn’t know how to maintain an appropriate distance. There seemed to be moments when she might have unknowingly crossed boundaries in relationships.

Riana had seemed somewhat surprised that Ellen thought of Reinhart merely as a friend. For the first time, Ellen started to consider that the way she behaved around Reinhart might be a bit off.

As Ellen arrived at the cafeteria and was about to enter, she noticed some commotion inside and stopped.

—If I eat late at night, I’m going to gain weight!

—Oh, come on, just do some exercise to burn it off then.

—I told you I don’t want to eat. Why do you keep insisting I do? I’m not hungry!

—You’re the one who was dragged over here after munching on snacks in the magic research lab. Stop nibbling and eat properly!

—Ugh! I wasn’t eating!

—A sigh.

—Clean the cookie crumbs off your mouth before you talk, will you?

Harriet and Reinhart were having a playful argument. As always, Harriet’s face was flushed red with indignation, while Reinhart was laughing and teasing her.

Ellen quietly watched the scene unfold.

—Fine, if you don’t want to eat, then don’t. I just thought you might be hungry and wanted to invite you for a late-night snack.

It seemed Reinhart had caught Harriet eating something in the magic research lab and decided to bring her along so that they could eat together since he was already going to make some food anyway.

Harriet had let herself be dragged along and was now bickering with him. This happened occasionally. Just like how Ellen and Reinhart sometimes trained late into the night, Harriet often stayed in the research lab until late.

In response to Reinhart asking her to leave if she didn’t want to eat, Harriet bit her lip and sat down at the table.

—I’ll see what you’re making first.

—Alright, just hang tight for a bit.

Ellen watched from the entrance of the cafeteria, first looking at Reinhart’s back as he headed into the kitchen, and then at Harriet’s slightly flushed face. She didn’t feel anything in particular when seeing Reinhart being close to someone else.

Why would it be unpleasant to see a friend being friendly with another friend?

“Oh, hey Ellen.”

“Hey.”

Ellen entered the cafeteria and sat across from Harriet, whose face was still slightly red.

Harriet’s lips twisted, and she shook her head in annoyance. “Why is he dragging someone who doesn’t want to eat here? What a jerk.”

Ellen observed Harriet quietly. Her face was slightly flushed.

Harriet’s tone was sharp and cutting, almost trembling. Ellen had a favorable impression of Harriet de Saint-Ouen. Initially, she’d held no opinion since she didn’t know her, but as they spent time together, she got to know various sides of Harriet.

She wasn’t sure about how Harriet used to be, but at some point, Harriet had stopped looking down on others and flaunting her status and talent.

When speaking to Adelia, who was still her friend despite being a commoner, Harriet was careful not to speak thoughtlessly, and apologized immediately if she made a mistake. She tried her best not to make any insensitive remarks at all.

As Ellen, Harriet, and Adelia started hanging out together, it felt like they were excluding Riana, so they had begun including Riana too.

Harriet was very considerate of those around her, unlike Ellen. Among friends, Harriet often took the lead in conversations and spoke clearly and wisely. When it came to magic, there was almost nothing she didn’t know.

But when it came to Reinhart, Harriet acted differently. She wasn’t kind or gentle, and almost always ended up fighting with him. Although Reinhart often initiated the teasing, Harriet’s behavior towards him was distinct from how she interacted with anyone else. Her words and actions were different when it came to Reinhart alone.

When she encountered Reinhart, she was different from her usual self.

“I mean... I appreciate him being considerate, but he has a way of making people feel unappreciated,” Harriet remarked.

A slightly flushed face, that subtle smile she couldn’t help but show when talking about Reinhart when he wasn’t around...

Ellen didn’t fully understand her own feelings, but she was beginning to believe that it probably wasn’t what she’d suspected.

“What do you think he’s making?”

“... I’m not sure.”

However, Ellen had a good sense that Harriet de Saint-Ouen liked Reinhart. If that was the case, what was she supposed to do? She didn’t quite know. But she thought that if she continued to interact with Reinhart as casually as she did now, it might hurt Harriet.

***

Thursday came, and I received an update from Mr. Effenhauser regarding the issue with the cursed sword.

“Your suggestion to use sorcery to identify the nature of the sword has been accepted.”

Using an unknown power to uncover the mystery of an unknown sword...

It seemed Temple had decided to go with that plan for now. Whether Dettomorian would be able to discover the inherent power of the sword through sorcery remained uncertain.

Of course, there was no need for me to observe the ceremony directly; the Temple authorities would inform me of the results. Whatever ritual was going to be conducted, it would surely take some time before it produced results.

“The ceremony will take place tonight at the Shrine of Ouen, within the Temple grounds.”

To prevent any potential mishaps, there would be both mages and priests around, fully prepared to ensure no malevolent energy seeped out. This was likely why they had chosen a sacred place like a shrine for the ceremony. It was surprising that the shrine attendants had even allowed such a cursed item inside.

“Can I observe the ceremony?”

“Hmm... I don’t see why that would be necessary, but if you make sure to keep your distance, perhaps it wouldn’t be an issue.”

While it might not be strictly necessary for me to be there, I decided to observe the ceremony in case an unexpected threat arose that required my intervention.

***

Thursday night came...

Ellen heard about the ritual to divine the nature of the cursed sword and wanted to come along. Dettomorian had skipped all his classes that day to prepare for the ritual.

Within Temple grounds were individual shrines dedicated to all the Five Great Gods. The ritual would take place in the Shrine of Ouen, the god of purity.

Ellen and I took a tram towards the Shrine of Ouen.

“Nothing bad will happen, right?” Ellen said, sounding worried.

“I hope not.”

If the item we brought to the Temple causes any further incidents, it would be entirely my responsibility. After all, I had been the one to insist that an artifact that should have been disposed of or abandoned be brought here.

Those majoring in religious studies probably visited the shrine often, but for Ellen and me, this was our first time seeing the interior of one of the Temple’s shrines. The Shrine of Ouen resembled a grand church more than a traditional shrine, and despite the massive main doors being wide open, entry into the shrine was being strictly controlled.

Since our entry permits had been prearranged, showing our student IDs allowed us to enter the shrine.

After passing through a few corridors and yet another set of grand doors, a dome-shaped chapel came into view.

In the center stood a statue of Ouen, the god of purity. This location had been chosen because the cursed sword had the power to resurrect the dead, and it made sense to contain its force within Ouen’s shrine, given its opposing nature.

The dome-shaped chapel was crowded with people, mostly Temple staff. Many were dressed in priestly robes, and there were numerous mages as well. They were all busy carrying out various preparations, given the uncertainty of what might happen.

They were setting up protective barriers using magic and Divine Power to prevent any potential accidents. Seeing so many people hard at work because of this single item I’d brought back made me feel somewhat guilty.

The priests, while busy with their tasks, kept casting uneasy glances towards the center of the chapel.

At the heart of the ritual, the cursed sword floated about thirty centimeters above the chapel floor, encapsulated in what looked like a crystal. It appeared to be some form of magical containment rather than sorcery. There, Dettomorian was slowly working on something.

“... This feels ominous.”

“... Yeah.”

Both Ellen and I couldn’t help but voice the same sentiment. It quickly became clear why the priests kept glancing over with such discomfort.

Dettomorian was using blood to draw an unknown magical circle on the floor. In the shrine dedicated to Ouen, the god of purity, and right in front of the goddess’s statue, he was drawing an unknown ritual circle in blood.

Who knew whose blood it was, but there was a bucket filled with bright red blood beside him.

Dettomorian was diligently working away without any awareness of the blasphemy he was committing.

Everyone around the chapel wore uncertain expressions, knowing that the Temple had approved the procedure but still feeling uneasy about it. If we felt that way, how much worse did it have to be for the priests?

The magic circle wasn’t the complex ones I had seen on several scrolls, but it was being drawn rather simply. Even so, why was it so crooked and uneven?

I stared at the uneven ritual circle, wondering if it was supposed to be like that, but it didn’t seem right.

I mumbled to myself absent-mindedly as I watched Dettomorian work.

“... Does he have hand tremors or something?”

“... Is that even allowed?”

“I-I don’t know...”

Had I been mistaken about him? Dettomorian wasn’t shaking from nervousness; it seemed his hands trembled naturally. The lines he drew for the circle were a complete mess—his hands were shaking visibly.

‘Is this really alright?’