Some students were down, yes. But others seemed unaffected. And the difference between the two groups was...
“It’s only the elves and dwarves?!”
Yep. Only the elves and the dwarves were going unconscious. The human students in the classroom were all in perfectly normal condition, while the elves and dwarves took a collective nap.
But that meant...
“Myusel?!”
With a start, I turned toward the faithful maid who was at my side even here in the classroom.
I couldn’t get a word out of her.
“Myusel!”
When I called her name a second time, she flinched a little and her eyes drifted open. She looked deeply fatigued, though, and her whole body was limp.
It looked like the Sandman was really on a rampage...
“What’s wrong, Myusel?”
“I’m... sorry, Master.” She shook her head. “I’m just so... sleepy.”
“Sleepy? What do you mean, sl—”
Why so suddenly? Did it have something to do with why the students couldn’t use magic anymore?!
“Sensei—”
“My magic...”
Students called out to me plaintively. None of their magic was working. Some of them were apparently trying to use spells to revive their collapsed classmates, but they weren’t getting anything out of it. It didn’t seem to be that the spells weren’t having any effect, so much as that the magic itself didn’t even function.
Was this—
what Petralka was talking about...?
Localized fluctuations in magic? A deficit of magical power?
“No way...”
I could feel my heart starting to race with panic.
Magic was to this world something like electricity was to ours. People just took it for granted; it supported everything they did in their lives. Suppose all the electricity suddenly disappeared for no reason we could discover—imagine what would happen.
Had the elves and dwarves collapsed because of something to do with the missing magic? And if they had...
A shout sounded in the buzzing classroom. “What is that?!”
Several students were looking out the window and pointing. I looked out, too...
...and took the world’s biggest gulp.
A dark, round pillar stood there. It stretched up into the sky as if connecting heaven and earth, dividing the world in two, a great, black streak. I couldn’t tell how far away it was, but one thing was for sure: it was big, big, big.
It widened and narrowed, twisted and writhed, making it look more like a waterspout than anything—but I didn’t hear the moaning rush of air you usually associate with natural phenomena like that.
When I looked really closely, I could see little blinking lights around the pillar, flashing and vanishing, countless numbers of them. It was like the pillar was turning and twisting, and they were being sucked in. The pillar was hideous and deeply unsettling.
“What the heck is going on?!” someone exclaimed. Between the sudden loss of magic, their friends spontaneously falling asleep, and the sudden appearance of the bizarre thing outside, confusion and fear began to run through the students.
“Why does this have to be when we lose magic?!”
“Are we all going to die here?!”
“Oh noooo!”
The students all tried to pile through the classroom door at once, hoping to get out. A few of them tried to invoke spells, but of course, they didn’t do anything—and that only made the panic worse.
“E-Everyone, just calm down!” I, along with the still somewhat drowsy Myusel, tried to bring something resembling order to the classroom, but my voice didn’t carry over the din.
Then, a woman came rushing into the room. “Shinichi-kun!”
“Minori-san!”
Minori-san fought her way past the tidal wave of students by sheer physical force, then came running over to me.
“The—The magic just vanished,” I said. “And Loek and the others collapsed... And then this weird thing—!”
“I know. The entire school is in an uproar.”
So whatever was happening—it was affecting not just this classroom, but the entire school building? Maybe the entire region?
Minori-san looked around the classroom, her expression serious. And then—
“I need everyone to please calm down!”
There was an earsplitting roar that instantly caused the entire room to fall silent. Talk about fighting fire with fire. Everyone was focused on Minori-san, who stood there holding her 9mm over her head. The 9mm she’d just discharged into the ceiling.
“Panicking is not going to solve anything,” she announced to the suddenly quiet classroom. “For the moment, the only things we know are that something has caused magic to stop working, and that the elves and dwarves are feeling sleepy. Nothing’s on fire, we haven’t been hit by any earthquakes or tsunamis or anything else. So calm down. Those who can still move, I want you to go back to your homes. If further evacuation turns out to be necessary, we’ll contact you there to let you know.”
The students looked at each other. Minori-san turned to me and Myusel. “I’ve already contacted the JSDF garrison. They’re on their way with two LAVs and an emergency medical kit. We should let them tend to the elf and dwarf students.”
“Okay... Right.”
“As for us, we need to go to Eldant Castle. Her Majesty may well already be aware of the situation, but I think we should report what’s happened here.”
“Y-Yes’m!”
She holstered her gun amid this flurry of instructions. I just nodded. That was a soldier for you. Cool and collected no matter how weird or scary things got. Reliable. I was so grateful Minori-san was here right now...
“Still,” I said, “I just don’t understand what happened here.”
“Only the elves and dwarves collapsed?” Minori-san asked.
“Right,” I said.
“But Myusel’s okay?”
“Er—”
Minori-san and I turned to look at Myusel. She definitely looked tired, but she hadn’t collapsed or fallen asleep; she was standing right there.
“It’s a little... hard to think clearly... but I’m all right,” she said.
“So you are affected by it,” Minori-san said, looking thoughtful.
“Yes, I think so.”
“I’m guessing it’s because Myusel is only half elf. This magical-deficiency phenomenon only really affects elves and dwarves, who are ‘sprite-like’ themselves.”
“So you’re saying...”
Elves and dwarves had greater magical powers than humans. Maybe that was a way of saying that they were the best adapted to handle magic. Might it even be fair to say that, like dragons, they were almost “half-sprite”?
And if they were...
“What if magic has something to do with their bodies’ metabolism?”
I caught my breath. Magical metabolism stopping due to a deficiency in magical power. What if that was what had made Loek and Romilda so sleepy...?
“Myusel, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you to stay behind,” Minori-san said. “When Captain Satou gets here, work with him and his men. With you to study, they might be better able to treat the elves and dwarves.”
“Y-Yes, ma’am!” Myusel nodded several times as if trying to shake off the fatigue, then clenched her fist.
“Everyone, listen up,” Minori-san said, addressing the students again. “I want calm and order! At the current moment, there doesn’t appear to be any effect on humans, so don’t panic and do anything stupid!”
“Y...Yes, ma’am!” The students nodded, then Minori-san grabbed me by the collar, exclaiming, “Shinichi-kun, let’s go!”
“Y-Yeah, sure...!”
She dragged me out of the classroom. The students and Myusel watched me go apprehensively. I shouted back to them, “Listen to Minori-san, everyone! And Myusel—you’ve got this!”
It was all I could do, con
sidering none of us had any idea what was going on.
Minori-san and I collected Hikaru-san, who was in another room, and then rushed to Holy Eldant Castle. The birds who pulled the carriages must not have been magical creatures, because they went as fast as ever. I hated to think how long it would have taken if we’d had to walk.
Telling the guards we had something very important to tell Petralka was our ticket to a prompt audience. The castle, though, was already in such chaos that people hardly noticed us. Some were pacing this way and that. Knights, many of them presumably headed for places where people had collapsed, rushed around and shouted; they obviously didn’t have time to stop and chat.
The place looked less like a castle than a war zone—the front lines.
“What in the world...”
What was happening here?
We waited anxiously in the audience chamber, and a short while later Petralka appeared, following Prime Minister Zahar at a quick pace. She didn’t even sit on the throne, but said with a stern expression, “You may dispense with greetings and preamble. Be brief.”
She sounded almost belligerent—but that only went to make clear how desperate the situation was. In fact, I had never seen Petralka like this before.
Minori-san gave the report: “We saw some kind of black pillar from the school. At the same time, the students became unable to use magic, and the elf and dwarf students collapsed.”
“We might have guessed,” Petralka said sourly.
“You might have?” I asked in surprise.
“We spoke to you previously of the strange state of the sprites, did we not?”
“Er, yeah...” And she had said she would tell us if they found out anything else.
“In some areas the number of sprites has dropped dramatically, wreaking havoc with the average amount of magic. Normally, such fluctuations would quickly correct themselves, but this decrease in sprites and magical power is of a different magnitude from normal. We still don’t know what’s causing it, but that magic-absorbing twister is the effect.”
“Magic... absorbing?”
“The reason magic is ceasing to function is the same reason it can’t be used around a dragon. But the source this time is not a living being. Instead, it’s that whirlpool-like phenomenon.”
“You mean, like, there’s a big magical void, and nearby magic is rushing to fill the gap?”
“Precisely,” Petralka nodded.
I immediately pictured the drain of a bathtub.
“Elves and dwarves rely more on magical power than we humans do,” the empress said. “That is why they’ve fallen asleep. The royal physicians advise us that the condition is by no means incurable... but it is unprecedented. That means we can’t be certain of anything.”
“Gosh...”
“Our mages tell us that these drop-outs in magic are happening only in particular places, and haven’t yet spread to the whole of Marinos. The phenomenon isn’t occurring at this castle, for example. But no one can predict when or where it may happen.”
“So it’s not just places near that pillar?”
“Our mages inform us that thing is a ‘shade,’” Petralka said. “A mirage, one might call it. The pillar itself is not absorbing the magic. Somewhere nearby, probably near the base of the pillar, something is causing the whirlpool.”
“An illusion...?”
“At the moment, we have our knights and all the palace mages investigating how much damage has been done. So far there are no reports of any fatalities, but there is no small number of workshops, hospitals, and other places that depend on magic to function.”
Magic was just a presupposition in this country—in this world, in fact. If it suddenly disappeared, people’s idea of “normal” would be turned upside down. It would be like a large-scale blackout in our own world, one that could occur anywhere at any time.
In other words, it was a big, ugly deal.
But what the heck were we going to do about it?
“The residents of the castle town have been urged to evacuate, just in case the worst should happen,” Prime Minister Zahar said. “I would encourage you, Shinichi-dono, and all the Amutech staff, to do the same.”
I didn’t say anything at first. His point was that in an extreme case, we had no idea what might happen. But then...
“Petralka, what about you?” I asked suddenly.
“Hrm? What about us, indeed?”
“Well, I mean... are you evacuating?”
“Don’t be foolish.” Petralka frowned. “We are the imperial ruler. And this is Marinos, the capital and key to our empire. This is our city. We shall remain here to the last, whatever may befall it.”
“But that’s...”
Things were so bad they had told the citizens to evacuate. And Petralka herself wasn’t going to leave? I thought in manga and anime, the ruler was always the first to get to a safe location.
“Even Garius and his knights have been sent into the thick of it. Shall I alone run away?”
I couldn’t answer.
“Don’t look so afraid. For the time being, this phenomenon appears to have no effect on humans.” Petralka tried to smile encouragingly.
There was this tiny, brave empress boldly facing a national disaster.
It made my heart ache.
“Your Majesty...” Minori-san began. “As I believe you know, the hyperspace wormhole is at the bottom of that black pillar.”
“Wait, there is?!” I exclaimed stupidly.
Petralka, who apparently had known all along, gave a small nod.
Hikaru-san, standing beside me, didn’t look surprised either, so it looked like I was the only one who had been out of the loop on this.
“The origins of the wormhole has never been fully explained,” Minori-san said. “But it’s been conjectured that it occurs naturally via some sort of magical power.”
I swallowed heavily at that. Did that mean the hyperspace tunnel could close, too?!
“If the wormhole disappears, we lose our way home, so this matters a lot to us. All the members of the Eldant Division are standing ready with full equipment. Our gear doesn’t use magic, so it isn’t affected by this phenomenon. I humbly request your permission for us to respond to this situation and take autonomous action where necessary—this request comes directly from Captain Satou, commander of the Eldant Division.”
“We would welcome your assistance,” the prime minister said with a nod.
Minori-san spoke up again, but this time she didn’t sound quite as confident. “I think you may already realize this Your Majesty, Prime Minister... but we’re dealing with magical power and sprites here. A corporeal being like a dragon is one thing, but we don’t know how well our equipment will or won’t work against a ‘shade.’”
“All too true,” Petralka said, looking nonplussed.
I could see where she was coming from. The JSDF, ultimately, used conventional—physical—weapons. What would they do to a magical phenomenon? Nobody knew. Considering that magic could have physical effects, you couldn’t argue that they were totally unconnected... But we didn’t know how any of this worked, and we might end up pouring a lot of firepower into someplace where it wasn’t going to do any good.
“We will not, of course, leave you to do everything on your own. We shall be attempting to do the best we can. However—Shinichi, Hikaru, the two of you must evacuate. We have an escort of knights and a swift carriage prepared for you.”
“But Petralka... We’re humans. There shouldn’t be any danger to—”
“There is no way of knowing what has happened or will happen to the vanished magic,” Petralka said. “It may spontaneously manifest as fire or lightning. Perhaps directly on top of you, Shinichi.”
I swallowed a breath. “But that means—”
That meant Petralka was in the same danger.
“We did not come here to debate. This is an order! We thank you for your report.”
Then Petralka turned her back on us.
“Come,” she said, and the knights who had been standing at the entrance of the audience chamber walked up to us and ushered us along.
“Petralka!” I shouted.
Just for a second, she stopped. She didn’t look back, though—and then she left the room.
There was no more reason for me to be here. But that conversation nagged at me. It’s like in a game, when someone says something, and you just know they’re going to die. It felt tragic, like a captain going down with the ship. Or was I just overthinking it?
My thoughts were interrupted by Minori-san, who whispered quietly to me, “Let’s go.”
We went through the halls. Down the stairs. Guided by the knights, we worked our way toward the main gate of Eldant Castle to evacuate.
Nobody said anything. Under the circumstances, none of us had it in us to talk.
Was the Eldant Empire going to be okay? Was Petralka? I felt anxiety pressing on my chest, but I couldn’t express it. And even if I could, so what? It wouldn’t mean anything more than a kid throwing a temper tantrum.
Then, suddenly, I saw something out the corner of my eye.
The storeroom.
The door, the one behind which lurked a dangerous weapon.
As we approached it, then passed by, I had a thought.
The black pillar that had appeared so suddenly was like a whirlpool that sucked in sprites and magical power. A natural phenomenon caused by a decisive imbalance in magic.
A phenomenon... like a typhoon or a waterspout.
In other words, not something fixed and concrete, but something created by an imbalance in the environment, a distortion. It was so big and so powerful that we could all too easily forget that it was fundamentally unstable.
And that meant...
My mind started to race. I’d heard that some country—America or someplace—once had a plan to drop bombs onto hurricanes to neutralize them. Apparently the plan had failed because it turned out hurricanes had so much energy that even a nuclear bomb or two wouldn’t have done the trick.
Wordlessly, we emerged outside. There was a bird-drawn carriage waiting at the castle gate, which was standing open. The knights ushered Minori-san and Hikaru-san into the carriage. I heard someone muttering, and then I realized it was me.
Outbreak Company: Volume 8 (Premium) Page 15
