Wayland's vision went dark for a moment. A single flower was apparently worth ten thousand times more than he was.
"Galth Archelotte, you remembered incorrectly. It's thirty million pounds."
The sudden voice came from the girl sitting with her back to them.
"My apologies, Senior." The young man, Galth, looked back and then turned to Wayland, repeating himself with a sheepish grin. "It's thirty million."
'I... I see.' Wayland fell silent.
What did the jump from three million to thirty million pounds even mean?
In his mind, there was only one word to describe it: absurd!
He glanced at the girl with the long black ponytail, a faint sense of familiarity tugging at his mind. He forced a strained smile and asked, "Is there a club discount?"
"No."
"I see." Wayland nodded as if it were a perfectly reasonable answer. 'Right, I'm out of here.' "Senior, I think I'll check out some of the other cabals first."
Using that excuse for the second time today, Wayland beat a hasty retreat.
He touched the money in his pocket and let out a heavy sigh.
Even if he sold his own legs, he wouldn't even come close. Thirty million pounds was a number he couldn't even begin to fathom.
Aside from a quick lunch at the cafeteria, Wayland spent the entire day wandering the streets. From the main teaching hall of Modern Magecraft to the student plaza, he encountered nearly a hundred different magic cabals of all shapes and sizes.
Some were incredibly formal, dedicated to things like the reverse-engineering of Conceptual Weapons or the materialization of the soul.
Others were focused on culture and cuisine, like the Oriental Culture Research Cabal he'd joined earlier.
And then there were the bizarre ones: the Doll Magic Cabal, the Cat-Language Research Cabal, and even a Quantum Speed-Reading Cabal.
The sheer variety was eye-opening, though his empty wallet meant he didn't buy much. The only highlight was a small pamphlet given to him by the Cat-Language Research Cabal titled The Cat-Language Textbook.
It was a tiny booklet, detailing what each specific meow or purr from a cat supposedly meant.
Since he had no immediate use for it, Wayland set it on his desk, took a deep breath, and dove into the Land of Shadows.
The sky remained a heavy, leaden grey.
Even though Wayland had visited the Land of Shadows countless times and was starting to get used to the gloom, he still felt an instinctive sense of oppression and discomfort.
It was truly a realm where the living were not welcome.
Wayland scanned his surroundings but found no sign of Scathach.
He found it strange; usually, within three seconds of his arrival, he would be greeted by a scarlet spear and a merciless beating.
While his training progress had reached the halfway mark, he still couldn't last more than a few minutes against her. Still, an increase from seconds to minutes was a massive leap forward.
It was thanks to this training that he'd been able to hold his own against the beast-formed Seiji Asagami for a short time.
Even though Seiji had been two or three ranks higher than him, the beast's massive size had slowed its movements, giving Wayland the chance to use his newly acquired Shadow Realm Spearmanship to stay alive--at least as long as his prana held out.
'Sca--'
The word died in his throat as a thunderous roar echoed from the distance.
Wayland looked toward the source and saw blurred shadows moving with incredible speed atop the jagged castle walls.
He immediately began to run toward the fortification.
To be honest, this was the first time he'd ever gotten this close to the outer walls.
It looked like a relic of the Middle Ages.
Seven towering gates were set into the walls, which in turn were embedded into the surrounding mountains.
From his new vantage point, he could clearly see the stone towers rising within the inner keeps.
But his attention was quickly seized by Scathach herself.
Without a shred of hesitation or a single wasted movement, she wielded two Gáe Bolg Alternates, the weapons moving so fast they left only a continuous red blur in their wake.
Her opponents were a swarming mass of undead.
Skeletons, bone-beasts, Gates of the Dead, Wrists of Dawn, ghosts, and vengeful spirits.
They surged over the walls in a tidal wave, desperate to reach the world beyond.
But none of them made it past her. Every single entity vanished beneath her spears, with not a single one managing to slip through her defense.
"Come up." Scathach noticed him.
'Up?'
Wayland estimated the wall was at least fifteen meters high. The surface was smooth as glass, with no footings, and the surrounding cliffs were just as treacherous.
"Mana Rope!"
His Magic Circuits flared to life. With a sharp flick of his wrist, a glowing circle of prana shot forward, anchoring itself to the top of the wall. A shimmering cord of magical energy extended downward, reaching the ground.
Wayland grabbed the rope with both hands, using his legs to walk up the vertical surface while simultaneously casting a Levitation spell. In seconds, he vaulted over the battlements.
"The... the scent of the living... flesh... blood..."
The undead instantly went into a frenzy.
"Projection!"
A violent burst of elemental energy rippled from his body as an invisible gale enveloped him.
'Lightness.'
He dodged the swiping hand of a skeleton, his spear sweeping upward to shatter its skull.
As shards of bone rained down, Wayland launched himself forward in a straight line. Trailing after-images, he wielded two projected spears, driving them forward in a brutal, direct thrust.
The explosive force sent the undead before him flying like uprooted floorboards, crashing into the ranks behind them and toppling them like a row of dominos.
Scathach's scarlet spear flashed once more.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]