The explosion did not sound like thunder. Thunder rolled, echoed, and announced itself to the sky. This did not since it was silently tearing apart. For those closest to the cafeteria's rear passage, death should have been immediate. The magic circle had not merely released mana. It had unraveled it, stripping structure and stability in a violent bloom of white that erased everything it touched.
Baston saw the light first. It swallowed his vision so completely that there was no room left for fear. His thoughts went blank. His
body moved before his mind could catch up, shoulders squaring, and feet digging into the stone as if bracing himself against an invisible tide.
He closed his eyes. Not in prayer and not in resignation. He did it simply because there was nothing else to do. When Baston opened his eyes again, the first thing he noticed was that he was still breathing. The second was that the air smelled wrong.
It was not a smoke. It was sharper like metal left too long in the rain, mixed with something faintly sweet that made his tongue feel numb. He stood exactly where he had been before. Ahead of him, the passage no longer existed.
Stone walls had been peeled away as if scraped by a colossal blade. The floor was gouged, warped, and fused into uneven glassy ripples. The explosion had carved a path straight through the back of the cafeteria. It was clean, precise, and deliberate except for one place.
The space directly behind Baston remained untouched. A corridor-sized void of destruction ended abruptly at his back as though the magic itself had decided not to continue. Behind him, Alicia and Panto were
alive. That realization reached him slowly, creating warmth into his frozen fingers.
"Good…"
The ache soon came. It was not exactly pain. It was more like pressure, an internal tightness that radiated from his chest outward. Baston exhaled carefully and felt it lessen.
"The puppet…"
He did not need to check. He already knew. The summoning construct he had deployed moments before was gone. The puppet was erased by the explosion. It was reduced to fragments too small for even the book to recover. A faint flicker of regret surfaced. He had wanted to observe it longer. To test its limits, its responses, and the way it interpreted danger. Yet, the old book did not negotiate with his fate. There was a price for any of his action. Fortunately, he only needed to wait for one day. The future tomorrow would bring back his puppet from the grave then.
Behind him, someone inhaled sharply. Panto and Alicia had finally dared to open their eyes. They saw Baston's back first. He stood there still. Then, they saw everything else.
Alicia's breath was caught in her throat. The passage they had taken moments ago had been gone, reduced to wreckage and twisted stone. The blast radius extended far wider than she had expected and far wider than she had believed possible. And yet, the space where Baston stood looked untouched. Not protected by a visible barrier and not reinforced by shimmering mana, yet it was just spared. She was shocked after imagining his strength.
"Baston…" she said, her voice unsteady despite her effort to keep it calm, "Are you… Are you alright?"
He turned slightly, as if noticing them for the first time, "I'm fine…"
The words were plain and unremarkable. Alicia stared at him, searching for cracks or for trembling hands, for uneven breathing, and for something that would reassure her that this was merely an illusion. There was
nothing. The fat boy stood there unimpressed. It was just like such explosion
was nothing in front of him.
If she had tried to block that explosion herself, she would have died. Even with her family's protection items, the best she could have hoped for was survival at terrible cost. Yet, Baston stood there as if the blast had been nothing more than a sudden gust of wind. While she was pondering hard about his background, Panto broke the silence.
"Baston! That was incredible!" he blurted out, his voice cracking with adrenaline, "You… You just blocked the explosion! I thought… I really thought we were dead!"
He laughed, a breathless, almost hysterical sound born from relief rather than joy. Never in his dream that death would soon embrace him. Deep inside his heart, this vicious evil must surely come from the cult
"We're alive! We're actually alive!"
Baston looked at him, then past him, his gaze briefly sweeping the ruined corridor. Too many questions were already forming. He didn't have any strength to explain everything. The existence of the puppet was his hidden secret. No one should know, including two people nearby.
"When the teachers arrive…" Baston said quietly, "Alicia will explain what happened. It was her deeds…"
Alicia blinked, "What? But…"
"You were the one who noticed the magic circle," Baston continued, his tone even, "You reacted first. You protected us."
It was not a suggestion. It was a decision. Panto froze and Alicia could only stare at Baston, feeling stunned. For a moment, she thought she had misunderstood him. Then, she saw his eyes. It was careful and measured. He was not afraid of the explosion but of what came after. Understanding dawned slowly in both of them but it took different shapes.
Panto's mind leapt immediately to the cult. Of course, he thought grimly. If this gets out, if people start asking questions, the academy would be implicated. The explosion alone was alarming. Baston's involvement would make it catastrophic. The cult had already shown they were willing to act inside the academy. If they learned what Baston was truly capable of, suspicion
would follow.
Panto swallowed. He needed to talk to Baston later. Somewhere in private where the walls did not listen. Beside him, Alicia
remained silent but her thoughts were moving just as quickly. The magic circle they had just witnessed was not something found in textbooks. It was not academy material. Even the teachers who would soon arrive would struggle to identify it, let alone explain its behavior. Which meant it had not come from the academy at all. The implication tightened her chest.
If Baston understood such a circle, if he had anticipated it, then someone had taught him. Someone was operating beyond official channels. And if Baston was already maneuvering in that shadowed space. Had he asked her to take the credit because he trusted her? Or because he suspected her?
Before either of them could speak another word, hurried footsteps echoed from multiple directions. Teachers arrived in clusters. Their expressions were shifting rapidly from confusion to alarm as they took a look in the devastation.
"What happened here?" one demanded, "Who cause this?"
"So much damage. This wasn't an accident."
Baston stepped back slightly, lowering his head. Once again, he turned into someone unremarkable. Someone that could be forgotten in the vast space of academy.
"Alicia knows what happened…" he said meekly, "She realized something was wrong before the explosion ocurred. She protected us."
Panto reacted instantly, following the words of his savior. In this time, he must devote all his effort toward Baston. Even it was a lie,
it was a means for survival.
"That's right!" he added loudly, "If Alicia hadn't stepped in, we'd all be dead!"
He gestured wildly, exaggerating his fear, his gratitude, and his admiration.
"She was amazing! Truly heroic!"
The teachers exchanged glances. The traces of mana left behind were chaotic but one thing was clear. No ordinary student could have survived at the epicenter. If it was a noble, if it was her magic item, that would
fit the explanation.
Alicia felt heat rush to her face as praise rained down on her from all sides. She nodded when appropriate. She answered carefully and she kept her story simple. Too simple to be suspicious. Eventually, one teacher gestured firmly.
"Alicia, come with us to the office. We need a full account of the beginning of the story."
He turned to Baston and Panto.
"You two may return to your dormitories."
Panto bowed obediently. Baston shuffled away without comment. No one stopped him and no one questioned him. As they left, Panto glanced back once, watching the teachers surrounded Alicia like eager witnesses around a polished truth. They did not even look at Baston. For some reason,
that bothered him more than the explosion.
*****
Later, after the chaos settled, hunger returned. It always did anyway toward the fat boy. He spent so much energy just to block such explosion.
"I'm going to eat," Baston said simply.
Panto hesitated before he nodded. At this time, he offered his service to his savior only. The bullied fat boy slowly turned into someone greater among others currently.
"I'll check if the cafeteria is still open."
Baston watched him leave, suspicion flickering briefly before fading. Panto had changed. Less mocking and less cruel. Maybe, nearly dying did that to people. When Panto returned, his face was tense.
"They're closing it," he said quietly, "At least for now."
Baston frowned. If the cafeteria was closed, he could only seek food outside the academy. Outside food meant money. But, he did not have money.
"Today might be the last day," Panto added hurriedly, "I… I ordered something already."
Baston said nothing. When the food arrived, it was excessive. A whole roasted chicken. Larger than anything Baston had eaten since
arriving in this world. He stared at it for several seconds.
"This is too much..." Baston thought, thinking how to eat it fully before it went cold.
Panto shrugged, forcing a laugh. "Last meal and all that."
Baston ate slowly and thoughtfully. He did not notice the waiter slipped something onto the tray until afterward. It was a coupon, usable outside the academy. It was valid starting tomorrow. Baston stared at it for a
long time after finishing the meal.
*****
Elsewhere, Alicia stood alone in the corridor outside the teachers' office. Accolades still ringing in her ears. She should have been
elated. Instead, unease gnawed at her. Baston's credit had been misplaced. The
evidence had vanished. And the one who had done a great deal, he had already walked away untouched. As if the explosion had never been meant for him at all.
That night, far from the ruins, the old book rested quietly beside Baston's bed. Its pages did not glow but deep within its spine,
something shifted. Another judgment slowly formed.
*****
Baston lay awake long after the dormitory lights dimmed. The academy was quiet again deceptively. Footsteps no longer echoed in the corridors. No alarms rang and no teachers shouted orders. To anyone listening from afar, it might have seemed as though the explosion had never happened. That illusion disturbed him.
He stared at the ceiling. The coupon was resting on his chest, rising and falling with each breath. The paper felt thin and ordinary. It seemed unimportant yet this small coupon was the most precious item he had. Considering what had happened, it was a ticket to eat free at the outside. That alone made it very valuable than money.
Meanwhile, the old book lay beside him. It was closed and its worn cover dull in the lamplight. Baston did not touch it. He had learned, through instinct rather than instruction, that unnecessary contact invited
attention. He believed that attention would invite judgment. His thoughts returned to the moment of impact. Not the explosion itself but the instant before it.
The magic circle had not reacted to Alicia. It had not reacted to Panto. It had reacted to him. That realization settled slowly, heavily, like a stone sank into still water. If the magic circle had been triggered by his presence then its purpose had never been random. It had not been meant to collapse the cafeteria or cause chaos. It had been a meant to
confirm something. Perhaps, it was a test for the fate. He exhaled quietly.
The old book had given him tools but not answers. And every time he used it, the world responded in ways that felt uncomfortably deliberate. Baston did not dare to confirm. His senses remained turned inward, replaying every detail he could recall. It was the path of destruction, the precise cutoff behind him, and the absence of recoil. The way the pressure inside his chest had felt, not strained, but acknowledged, as if something unseen had taken note of his response and decided it was acceptable. He had passed. The question was what its variable?
*****
Elsewhere, Alicia sat alone in her room. Her hands folded tightly in her lap. She had replayed the teachers' questions over and over, examining each of her answers for inconsistency. The story she told was clean. It was logical, supported by her status and the magic items she carried. It was indeed too clean that it worried her.
Real disasters left messes or contradictions, missing details, and witnesses who disagreed. Yet, no one had questioned her account beyond surface-level confirmation. No one had asked why the magic circle had
activated when it did. No one had asked why its destruction path stopped where it did. And no one, most concerning of all, had asked Baston anything at all. She pressed her lips together.
Baston had not once looked surprised by the explosion's outcome. He had not asked questions. He had not reacted the way someone saved by chance would react. It was as if he had known. And worse, he had expected it. Her fingers tightened.
If Baston had access to an informant, then that informant might also know that she currently carried a credit she did not earn. Credit that would soon be reported upward, beyond the academy, into places where truth
had a way of resurfacing. She did not fear punishment. She feared being used.