"Master, please don't die." Irigal's voice suddenly chimed in.
Wayland felt a headache coming on. He was just walking out of the Department of Policies building when Irigal's voice echoed in his head. "And what brought this on?"
"Because dying is truly tragic," Irigal replied, her voice soft and heavy. "You'd be trapped forever in a desolate wasteland. The sky is black, the earth is black... there's no light, no freedom. You'd just be a silent presence drifting in a cage until the end of time."
Wayland stopped in his tracks. He subconsciously reached out, as if trying to grasp something in the air. Then he gave a dry laugh. "Hey, you're just a system. Where did all this sentimentality come from?"
"I am Irigal. The system is just my body."
"What are you even saying? Aren't you the system itself?"
"Not quite. Irigal is an artificial intelligence. The system is the physical vessel I inhabit. If Master were to find me a better body one day, I could easily transfer into it."
Wayland felt a sudden chill. A disturbing thought crossed his mind. "So... if I die, will you just take over my body?"
"Master, you truly are brilliant."
"..."
'Wait, isn't this supposed to be a world of magecraft and mystery?'
'Why are we suddenly in a science-fiction plot?'
"So, Master, please don't die. If you do, very, VERY terrifying things will happen."
Irigal's voice was as soft as a whisper, yet it carried the chilling weight of a demonic pact.
"..."
'My own system is threatening me. What do I even do in this situation?'
Wayland continued walking, looking up at the unchanging sun--a constant in this world, much like life and death.
"If I do end up dying, just make sure you bury me somewhere with a nice view."
"Eh? EH! I was just joking! I... I... I won't let you die! Never!"
The girl's voice was suddenly frantic, yet it carried an unshakable conviction.
"Well, look at that. You can be cute when you want to be." Wayland's expression softened momentarily before hardening once again. "Besides, killing me isn't going to be that easy."
"Mmm... I'm going to sleep. Goodbye, Master!"
And with that, she vanished.
'She's an AI system. Why is she so shy?'
"Wait! What about my quest reward?"
Wayland called out, but there was no response. However, a translucent screen flickered into existence before his eyes.
[Side Quest 7 Complete. Rewards Issued.]
The record was cold and mechanical.
Immediately, Wayland's Magic Circuits flared to life.
He unclenched his fists as magical energy surged through his arms like a stream entering a river, expanding until it reached a new peak.
'Rank of Count.'
The transition was remarkably smooth.
His mood instantly brightened. He began to hum a low tune as he made his way back to his dormitory.
Another night of training followed--another night of getting beaten senseless in his dreams.
"Wait... what?"
Wayland looked at the system log. Previously, his Shadow Realm Spearmanship had been at 65/100. Now, the number had jumped to 80/100.
"Irigal, what happened?"
"It's simple. Like any skill, the learning curve is steepest at the beginning. Your proficiency has reached a breakthrough point, which means you're fast approaching mastery."
"So you're saying I won't have to get pummeled in my sleep for much longer?"
Wayland felt a surge of joy. He got dressed, watered the fairy seed on his balcony, and headed out for breakfast before making his way to the library.
Today and tomorrow were the club performance days, but they didn't start until the evening.
The Oriental Culture Research Cabal had informed him that their session started at six.
Wayland followed his usual route to Reading Room 101.
"Good morning, Professor Sizu."
In the twenty days since he had arrived at the Clock Tower, aside from his classroom and dormitory, he had spent almost all of his time here. He had become quite familiar with the librarian, Sizu Karayake.
She was an assistant teacher in the Department of Modern Magecraft--relatively junior and not yet a full lecturer.
After exchanging a friendly greeting, Wayland headed straight for the bookshelves.
His goal was clear: to learn the things that weren't taught in the standard curriculum.
Like Black Magecraft.
Of course, the library didn't provide actual spells or formulas for such taboo arts. But it did offer introductions to their effects, dangers, and manifestations. Understanding these things was essential; at the very least, if Wayland ever encountered a practitioner of the dark arts, he'd know enough to understand how he was about to die.
But today, he was looking for something else: books on the legends of King Arthur.
The reason, of course, was the history Elena had mentioned regarding the Black Knights and the twelve houses.
"There are so many..."
Wayland looked at the row of books--nearly a hundred volumes in total.
The legend of King Arthur was so famous in England that it had spawned an endless array of spin-offs and related stories.
He let out a sigh a picked up the first volume, beginning his day of research.
"I can't find anything about a 'Black Armored' intelligence division with twelve houses..."
Wayland began to suspect he had been played for a fool. Why else would he have spent an entire day digging through these fairy tales?
Though he hadn't read every word, the vast majority of the stories focused on the four main chapters: Arthur's rise to kingship, the knights of the Round Table, the quest for the Holy Grail, and the death of Arthur. The most detailed of these was Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, published in 1485.
The earliest mention of the name Arthur was in the Historia Brittonum, written by a Welsh monk around 800 AD. It described him leading the Welsh against the Saxon invasion from the Thames.
But information regarding the "Usurper King" Vortigern was sparse, and there wasn't a single mention of any "Black Knights."
'I suppose the history of the Type-Moon world really is different.'
Wayland sighed. He almost wanted to fly to Japan and see if he could find a man named Kinoko Nasu to ask him what was going on.
"Student Wayland, the club performances are about to begin."
"Thank you for the reminder, Professor!"
Wayland checked the time--only thirty minutes until the opening. He hurried out of the library and ran toward the student plaza in General Fundamentals.
Suddenly, a brilliant display of fireworks burst across the sky, illuminating the massive bounded field surrounding the Clock Tower.
By the time Wayland reached the crowded plaza, the last of the fireworks had faded.
The area was plunged into darkness, with not a single lamp lit.
As Wayland stood there in confusion, a shimmering cascade of blue light showered from the sky--like a rain of sapphires.
"What is that?"
On the performance stage, amidst the falling gems, a figure slowly materialized.
The girl had long, wavy brown hair that cascaded down to her waist. Her clear, bright eyes sparkled like autumn waves, and her pale face was touched with a faint blush. Her lips were as delicate as flower petals, and her stunning silhouette was accentuated by a low-cut violet evening gown.
She stepped to the microphone and began to sing.
Her low, melodic voice echoed through the air--a stream of harmonious notes flowing with the weight of magical energy. It was like a clear spring, or the deep ocean--simultaneously crisp and profound. Her voice had been granted an unimaginable texture through the use of magecraft.
Wayland stood frozen, his mind drifting like a bird soaring through the melody.
"O wandering souls,
Stay your weary feet.
Listen to the confession of Flora's messenger,
In this grand and royal hall:
It is not the shame of a fairy,
Nor the reluctance of a flower to bloom.
Across the Glos Mountains, the giants tread,
The witch's song echoes in Boston Pond.
On those romantic and lonely nights,
They shall all sing of this beauty.
Even if I tread across every inch of Britain,
Even if Flora blessed every grain of soil,
Countless souls would still chase her,
The Princess of the Pendrago House.
Her smile is a flower,
Blooming in every pair of eyes."
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]