Chapter 7: Antares (1)
For to us a child is born, to us a daughter is given. In her right hand she holds a sword, and she shall be called…
- Isaias 9:6
* * *
“Luina! Luina!”
“Don’t run, Sha—!”
Sharon hit the ground before Luina could finish saying her name.
Luina clicked her tongue. Even after five years of being dragged out for morning exercise, Sharon still tripped whenever her feet became tangled.
Luina pulled Sharon upright with one hand, then scowled at the cuts and scratches covering her face.
“What happened to your face? And why are you running when it’s hardly any faster than walking?”
But Sharon was far too excited to care about Luina’s blunt criticism or disapproving look. She broke into a wide grin.
With her face covered in scratches, the result was alarming enough to make a few passing freshmen yelp. Sharon did not notice them either.
“I finished the Tamacula repellent!”
Luina, who had been frowning in displeasure, widened her eyes. “Really?”
“Yes! The smell alone made them panic. The ones in the laboratory went wild trying to escape. Catching them again was a nightmare.”
On closer inspection, Sharon’s glasses had been broken and repaired more than once. She stood there beaming, her face and forearms covered in claw marks.
The injuries had been constant ever since she began researching Tamacula. Oblivious to the fact that she was covered in scars herself, Luina began to scold her in a measured voice.
“I told you not to take them out of their cages. Keep grappling with monsters like this, and I’m not catching any more for you. Their venom might not kill us, but that doesn’t make wounds like these safe. And if the scars are this bad, you must have lost a great deal of blood—”
“But I needed blood samples. And you went through all that trouble to catch them alive. What if they escaped?”
“Then you should have waited until I was back.”
“You weren’t coming back for over a month. How was I supposed to wait that long? Enough with the lecture. I’ve even finished the containers, so come look!”
Luina had returned to Witagium for the first time in two months. Before she could so much as wash, Sharon grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her straight to the laboratory.
Three Tamaculas had been dozing inside a cage. The moment Luina entered, they jolted awake and scrambled into the farthest corner. Tamaculas could barely see during the day, but their instincts told them that this human was far more dangerous than the person who usually occupied the laboratory.
Luina gave the cage a light shake to make sure it was secure. Then she looked at the Tamaculas huddled with their backs to her.
One is missing.
Luina almost felt sorry for them. Almost. They should never have attacked people in the first place. Then they would never have drawn her notice.
“Right now, it’s a spray. But at a high enough concentration, direct contact can kill them.”
“You actually killed one? You?”
That explained the missing Tamacula. Luina stared at her roommate in disbelief, but Sharon merely shrugged.
“You do it all the time, so I don’t see what’s so surprising about it. Though a formula potent enough to kill them would be dangerous for people as well, which is why I weakened the household formula. This one only drives Tamaculas away. Spray it around a windowsill, and they won’t come near for at least two weeks. I wanted to finish it quickly and get it to families with babies.”
Families with babies. Luina had been ready to give Sharon a stern warning, but the reprimand died in her throat.
Larger monsters were difficult to subdue, but they tended to live far from populated areas. The creatures that most often invaded people’s homes were the smaller, low-grade monsters. Of those, Tamaculas claimed the most lives.
They lived underground, where they could easily conceal themselves, and their small bodies allowed them to slip into houses unnoticed. They were vicious, but smart enough to restrain their aggression until the right moment.
Tamaculas were the leading cause of death among children under five. Until now, the only defense had been to hang torches near the windows.
And Sharon, a sixth-year student who had not even graduated from Witagium, had found a solution.
“I wish you had been born ten years earlier,” Luina muttered.
Some of Sharon’s excitement faded. Luina’s expression had not changed, and her voice remained matter-of-fact, but Sharon knew how much grief lay behind those words.
“As soon as it was ready, I sent it to your orphanage first.”
“…Thank you.”
“Of course.”
That was why Sharon had shut herself away in this tiny laboratory and labored alone: to keep life-saving technology from becoming a mere instrument of profit, and to ensure that no child’s life would be valued differently because of money or power.
Sharon had begun researching monsters as soon as she entered Witagium. Two years ago, she began developing medicines and repellents in earnest.
Countless noble families had courted Sharon for her knowledge and talent. Sharon flatly rejected every single offer and chose to remain at Witagium.
The decision itself had been easy. Upholding it was not.
The pressure became especially difficult to withstand when it came from House Gurat, which did business with Sharon’s family. House Gurat was second only to the imperial family in power and was also the crown prince’s family by marriage.
House Gurat had built an immense fortune through its apothecary business. The moment it heard that Sharon was developing a monster repellent, it set its sights on her research.
When Sharon refused to cooperate, they resorted to increasingly underhanded tactics.
Count Gale had not visited his daughter once in the four years since she entered Witagium. When he finally appeared and saw the long scar across her forehead, he flew into a rage.
“What kind of research leaves a girl’s face looking like that? Do you have any idea how much trouble your stubbornness has caused our family? Hand over that worthless research to Duke Gurat at once and come home!”
Unfortunately for the count, his appalling response had precisely the opposite effect from the one he intended. It only strengthened Sharon’s resolve.
“I’m not going. I’m sorry I’ve caused trouble for the family, but you’ll have to deal with that yourself, Father. The moment House Gurat gets its hands on my research, the repellent will become something the poor could never afford.”
“What does that have to do with you?”
“I’m a better person than you are, Father.”
Count Gale’s face turned purple with rage. He raised a hand to strike Sharon, but Luina darted forward, caught his wrist, and forced his hand down. At the same time, Rowen stepped in front of Sharon, the rare absence of his usual smile making him look almost like a different person.
The ferocity of the young students made Count Gale falter. He quickly recovered and raised his voice.
“What is the meaning of this? How dare you children behave so insolently in the presence of an adult!”
“An adult…?” Rowen drawled. “Since you were cowardly enough to bring up your age first, Lord Gale, perhaps I should be more underhanded still and invoke my rank.”
“…What?”
“I am Rowen Herden, Lord Gale. I don’t care much for formalities, but even I’d be a little embarrassed if you kept staring blankly after hearing my name. Especially in front of my friends.”
“Y-Your… Ah…” Count Gale blanched. “James Gale, Lord of Grandre, pays his respects to His Imperial Highness, Prince Rowen.”
Rowen folded his arms and tilted his head, watching coldly as Count Gale dropped to one knee and bowed. With the smile gone from his usually cheerful face and his voice lowered, Rowen radiated an authority few could challenge.
“As you well know, I don’t have the power to stop Duke Gurat. But removing your name from the guest list for the next Imperial New Year’s banquet is well within my power.”
“Your Highness, how could you…?”
For a minor provincial noble with no foothold in the capital, an invitation to an imperial banquet was not a trifling matter. Count Gale, in particular, was desperate to advance his sons’ careers. Building connections with the capital’s great nobles mattered more to him than anything else.
“I’m telling you to stop threatening one of the most valuable talents in the empire and go home quietly. And don’t come back. If I have to see you too often here, I may decide I have no wish to see your face at the palace either.”
Word soon spread throughout the empire that a prince attending Witagium had openly taken Sharon Gale’s side. Count Gale possessed neither the power nor the courage to oppose a member of the imperial family. He never returned to Witagium.
However, keeping Duke Gurat at bay was not so easy. Even a powerless prince could not be openly defied, so the duke appeared to retreat. The general manager of the Gurat Trading Company, who had visited Witagium every two weeks to harass both Sharon and Marianne, ceased his visits at once.
But the duke soon found another way to pressure Rowen and the situation proved far more troublesome than Rowen had expected.
“This is all because of me…” Sharon said. “I’m so sorry, Rowen.”
“This is not your fault, Sharon. I would’ve had to deal with it after graduation anyway.”
Rowen knew that once he was beyond the protection of the imperial family and Witagium, even the meager protection he currently enjoyed would disappear.
It was not difficult to arrange the death of a low-ranking soldier in battle. Rowen had always known that the most dangerous period of his life would begin the moment he formally joined the military and last until he rose beyond the lowest ranks of the officer corps. He had long since prepared himself for it.
He simply had not expected that struggle to begin before graduation. Nor had he understood what it would mean to be thrown into the heart of battle before he had even received an officer’s commission.
The hell with this!
Rowen cut down another monster, only for more to rush toward him. No matter how many he killed, the horde never seemed to diminish. He found himself resenting the bold confidence he had shown six months earlier. And yet, even if he could turn back time, he knew he would still step in front of Sharon.
Goddammit!
Why did he have to be so needlessly righteous all the time? He wasn’t even a priest.
Beginning in their sixth year, students in Witagium’s martial arts division entered battles against monsters as trainees. The purpose was to give them experience in real combat and teach them the hardships endured by enlisted soldiers before they became officers themselves.
Because they still lacked experience in both combat and strategy, trainee soldiers normally observed from behind the regular troops. They only provided support if the army was driven onto the defensive.
Even then, any student judged unready for real combat was kept out of the fighting. Trainees rarely died in battle, and for the sake of their physical and emotional well-being, students were not normally sent into dangerous regions twice in succession.
“A pack of Obis spotted!”
“Archers, fall back immediately! Arrows are useless! You have to pierce the carotid artery in a single strike!”
And yet, this was already the fourth time that year Rowen had been assigned to a high-risk region where at least three times the expected number of monsters had appeared.
The first two times, Rowen had thought little of it. The third time, he had begun to suspect something was wrong.
Only now did certainty settle over him.
Duke Gurat was retaliating against him.
