Attacking Your Homeroom Teacher Is How You Start the School Year, Right?
Hedonist Safir & Heretic Merlin #3
By: Aviantei
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It's a beautiful day outside. The sun is shining, there's no sign of rain, the breeze rolling in from the ocean is making the temperature perfect, and Emma's form is impeccable as she swings her javelin straight for your neck in the courtyard of Logres Manor.
A handful of months have passed since you brought Emma Michelle to your new home with Rintarou and Luna, and quite a bit has changed. As you all moved in at the same time, there hasn't been any awkward adjusting to having a new person enter an existing dynamic, though having a smooth transition into sharing a home is a bit of a pipe dream considering the number of strong personalities you've crammed into it.
It's safe to say that Emma's changed the most, though. Though she's still petite, she's fleshed out a bit more, looks much healthier than when you first found her. Her once split-end riddled hair has been trimmed and tended to in a way that makes her platinum blonde locks shimmer in the sunlight. There are still rough days, as there always are following trauma like hers, but she has both a therapist (who is worth the extensive bill you're footing) and a support system in a safe home now, so she's doing much better in that regard, too, the mental wounds healing into scars, one fraction at a time.
She's also much improved in her swordplay as well, which was her request. Canon Rintarou hadn't been wrong; the Religious Order of Saint Joan was a bunch of dumbasses who couldn't be bothered to teach the girl a style that would bring out her full potential. Bad habits like that can threaten to stick for a lifetime, but there's been no need to worry about that.
Emma Michelle is a prodigy, it's as simple as that.
So when she swings her javelin towards you, her form is perfect enough to almost take your breath away. If you were anyone else, she might even manage to land a blow. As it stands, though, you can fight opponents of her caliber in your sleep, so you dodge (in a backflip, to be unnecessary and extra) with no issues. Emma pursues, and you let her, moderating your speed down so she can keep up with you. There's no point to training if you end up outclassing her so much that she can't even benefit from it.
The same pattern repeats itself for the next several minutes, and you keep an eye on Emma's tactics as you go along, logging suggestions for improvement for later. There's not a lot of advice left to give, but you're willing to mentor her as long as you need to. After all, being able to reach a level where you can assess your own flaws and work out ways to improve is important, and Emma's not quite there yet. In fact, her form's slipping a bit, keeping up with you for so long making her overconfident, a habit you want to break as soon as possible.
And whenever she starts to slip up—
Next time, when Emma lunges at you, you don't dodge. Instead, you counter, catching her weapon and disarming her with a harsh tug. Having been on the receiving end of this before, she tries to keep a hold on the halberd, but there's not a lot she can do when your Mana Acceleration is stronger than hers. Emma cuts her losses and lets go so she doesn't faceplant from the momentum. The halberd, though it's weight is different, is enough like the familiar feel of the naginata you've wielded before that you've spun it around, the blade stopping just short of drawing blood from her chin.
"Aw," she says, "I was doing so good."
"You were," you say, because she's been through enough harsh training that she deserves the positive reinforcement first. "But you tend to get complacent whenever you're doing good. If you do want to keep improving, you should channel those feelings into pushing yourself to go further beyond your limits instead."
"Right! Thank you very much, Master!"
Aaand there it is; the infamous 'Master' nickname that she once bestowed upon Rintarou. It should have been obvious that the title would get transferred to you, since you're the one who's been helping Emma out, but something about it still doesn't settle right with you. Maybe because the context of the word in English is so easy to misconstrue? At least in Japanese, there are different terms for that sort of thing.
It sure would be nice if she called me "Senpai" or something instead…Ah, never mind, that might just make me homesick. If you can call longing for one of your past lives a home, that is. And, even if you can't, wallowing in thoughts like that doesn't do anyone any good, least of all you. It's much better to focus on where you've been put—and even more so since you've stuck your nose into this.
"Well, either way, you have been making steady improvement since we've started," you say, and Emma's smile grows brighter. Maybe it's a bit twisted that she's excited over being taught to fight at her age, but you're not one to judge. It's been a long time since you were last so bloodthirsty, but combat can be something to revel in just as much as any other pleasure in life, and it's one that you get a rush from still.
Of course, you have other reasons for training her like this. The King Arthur Succession Battle is approaching soon, and it is a battle royale where killing is permissible. You've come to like Emma a lot since you've picked her up, so you want her to survive; she'll need to fight how to do that. Then again, she could also withdraw, which would solve the whole issue, but you don't think that Emma wants to do that.
She may not want to be La Pucelle anymore, but there's something she wants to accomplish, even if she hasn't voiced it to you just yet. And, so, you'll support her, because that's what you want to do.
"Right now, the best thing you can do is work on your mindfulness," you continue. Being so aware of oneself is difficult at her age, prodigy or not, but it's still better to work on it sooner rather than later. "I want you to take a break for lunch, then do some meditation afterwards. Other than that, you can have free study time this afternoon, so feel free to do whatever you like and let me know if you need anything."
Emma nods, her still round face set in determination. It would be adorable, if you didn't know that she's beyond serious. "Right! Oh, Master, I was doing some magic research, and I was wondering if you could help me with comprehending this one magical theory I found…"
"Hey, you two are lookin' awful friendly over there." Luna has wandered her way over to you and Emma, looking a bit ragged from her own practice. "Safir, you're still my vassal, right? You're gonna help me win, right? Don't you think that you could stand to help your king out a little bit more?"
"Of course I'm on your side, Luna. You don't have to worry about that." Saving the world isn't something that Emma seems to be interested in; such a role is better suited for someone who is much more invested in things. Even if Luna says she's in it for the wealth and fame, you know there's more to her than such simple things, and all the more so since she's a person, rather than a trope-fulfilling character. "Did you forget that Rintarou-chan and I want this whole thing to be as enjoyable as possible? Having more skilled opponents will help with that." Your motives are that selfish, after all, but it's not like Luna cares. You give her a smile. "Besides, if you win even when the other King Candidates are strong, that means your victory will prove you're even worthier to be King Arthur's Successor, yeah?"
Luna's excitement is beyond obvious, her eyes sparkling and everything. "Wow, you're super right, Safir, that's amazing! Winning against a bunch of way strong opponents is so the way to go. Ideas like that are part of why you deserve to be called my vassal, no doubt about it. We'll be sure to sweep the Succession Battle—"
"What's this, what's this? You wouldn't happen to be bragging about your certain victory while running away from your own training, now would you, My King?"
Rintarou is the next to approach, though his arrival is much more ominous than Luna's was—and she just so happens to be the cause. Though it's been months since you and Rintarou have joined Luna's faction, their dynamic of scum king and exhausted advisor hasn't changed a bit. Despite that, it's obvious they're getting along. Hell, if Rintarou or Luna told you that they're playing things up for the bit, you'd believe them.
"Ahaha, Rintarou," Luna says, stepping back like she's about to—no, scratch that, is using you like a meat shield. "Come on, don't be a spoil sport; Safir was just pumping me up a bit. Besides, Emma's getting to stop for a break; don't you think it's only fair that we stop for now, too? You must be tired—"
"Safir," Rintarou says, paying no mind to Luna's attempted string of distractions, "I'm pretty sure you're granting a break because Emma's made enough progress to earn one, right? She's not trying to weasel out of a little difficult practice, right?"
Emma pouts, that simple look seeming all the more intimidating thanks to the way her grip tightens on her halberd—or so it would be for ordinary folks with a healthy danger sense. "Don't be rude, Magami. There's no way I would ever try to squander the time for the precious lessons that Master gives me!"
"My, what a dedicated King. Perhaps I'll take the time to switch factions." You snort; your Rintarou isn't any more serious about that threat than his Canon counterpart was. "After all, Luna, if you don't think my training is worth the time, why should I bother to waste the effort on it? I'm just in this for kicks, after all. It would be fun if I could make you win, sure, but—"
"Heeey! No fair, no fair!" Luna shouts. From experience, you knew this would to happen, so the spell you cast keeps your ears from ringing at the loud volume. Worked up all over again, Luna steps out from behind you, ready to start the latest iteration of the Arthur vs. Merlin squabble. "You already swore to be my vassal, Rintarou, you prom—gwah!"
Luna's mistake was stepping out in the open, and Rintarou's not one to let such a blunder pass. He snatches onto Luna's arm, yanking her along, back to the other end of the courtyard from whence they both came, paying no mind whatsoever to Luna's protests. "Sorry for the disturbance, Safir. I'll make sure that our king here pulls her weight, so as you were."
The sight of it all makes you giggle. "Have fun, Rintarou-chan," you say, and he deigns you with a grin over his shoulder before focusing back on his objective. You've thought it several times, but you're grateful that when Magami Rintarou smiles now, even if it has a bit of an edge, it's genuine—or at least it is around you, Emma, and Luna, no matter how much he tries to grouse about the latter. You clap your hands together. "Well, like I said, Emma, you're free to do what you like. Unless you plan to join me for lunch? Though I was planning on dropping by Turkey to eat, so I dunno if you wanna bother with the teleportation for that."
Emma's eyes sparkle. "Can I go?"
And so the afternoon goes.
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As things inch closer to the Canon timeline, you come to a realization that you should make sure that the collection of people you've taken under your wing should go to school.
Well, "should" is a variable in some cases. For all the brutalization they put her through, the Religious Order of Saint Joan did give Emma a stellar education; she's leagues ahead of anyone else her age, though you estimate she's not quite at the level of a high school graduate. Rintarou doesn't have the formalities on paper, but late night bullshitting sessions with him have proven that he's easily at the Doctorate level in all the major subjects, along with several more lining his resume. Whatever he didn't already know as Merlin, he picked up while trying to assuage his boredom with additional studies, not that it worked.
(Since when have such things ever done the job?)
And you? Hah, you've avoided traditional programs your entire damn life, but that doesn't mean you don't have the qualifications for whatever you decide to pursue, paper trail and all. It's just all a matter of knowing how to play along with the system. With a bit of effort, you could set Rintarou up, too, if he would even care about doing something like that.
Luna, though. Luna may be lacking in the perceived notion of common sense, but she is smart. She knows how to handle her studies enough to be at the top of her class at the end of the day, which is more than enough. Still, just because she's being tossed into a battle with the fate of the world waiting at the end of things, that doesn't mean she isn't deserving of a proper education, plus Canon her enjoyed running the student council, scummy reasons aside. Luna will need to go to high school—and doubtless her first choice will be Camelot International, considering its prestige and perfect proximity to the Succession Battle, a worthy school.
A school that has snakes hiding in the grass.
Kujou what's-his-face, one of the more murderous King Arthur Succession Battle candidates. Morgan le Fey (just thinking of her makes you taste bile in rage), hidden in the innocent façade of the eventual head of the Ethics Committee.
Fuyuse Nayuki, who isn't an outright threat, but is still reborn from the times of old, just like Rintarou. At least she and Luna were close friends, regardless of everything else.
Putting the one-day student council secretary aside, you can't let Luna walk straight into a potential danger zone on her own. Rintarou's of high school age, and he got into the school during Canon, so he could just recreate that feat. But letting him be anywhere in the vicinity of multiple Dame du Lac on his own, when it's those two? Not a fucking chance in any version of hell. And beyond that—
("But more than that, I've never really gone to school before.
"I think I wanna go, just to see what it's like.")
You put a hand over your heart, as if that's going to stop the ache. You've been in this body for just fifteen years; if you already can't stand the memories, this is going to be one of the worst rounds you've had in a long time.
Focus. Breathe. Priorities.
Getting all three of you into Camelot International won't be difficult at all. You're pretty sure the entrance requirements are a mix of money and test scores, and you can cover both. Emma is her own sort of challenge, because she's a year younger than you all. When April rolls around, you, Rintarou, and Luna will be first year high schoolers by the standards here, and Emma will be in the grade below, her final year of middle school. Is she ready to go to a public or private school on her own, away from you? With a bit of cramming, she could make it into the high school, no problem, but is that the best call?
I'm pretty sure if I asked her which she'd want, she'd opt to come with us, but is that what she needs right now? A scummy teenage girl and two ancient-ass reincarnated souls do not meet the complete social needs of a young child, even if she's not that much younger than Luna. Emma needs to make friends with people her age, needs to have the chance to reclaim some normalcy that was denied to her in all the years that came before.
If she has trouble with it once she's there, we'll reassess, but so long as she has a support system at school, she should be okay.
Your plans for that day end up consisting of filling out all of your applications for the upcoming school year, as well as sending Emma's new middle school a rather generous donation that comes with the condition of sending their counseling staff through the best possible training and vetting possible.
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"Whoa, Safir, you let your hair down! Looks good!"
Luna's compliment is in response to the fact that your hijab has become a scarf for the day, this one a bright blue that compliments the darker shades of your new uniform. The hijab was a gift from your mother this round, as a celebratory gift for enrolling in such a prestigious high school, though that seems silly with everything else you've accomplished. Still, you know she sent it out of love, and that's reason enough to wear it, even if you don't feel like going the whole nine yards with it now.
Religion is a strange thing to get attached to when you've been in so many worlds where the rules can differ so much, where a god you've dedicated yourself to in one life may not even exist in the next.
Having parents is also strange whenever you've been born as a soul with so much more experience than they will ever have, but you don't begrudge them for it. You do appreciate them for bringing you into a world and loving you regardless—at least most of the time you do. This round isn't so bad, all things considered.
That said, it's with your hair down and free that you look so much more like your mother, the dark locks framing your face the exact same way, bringing out the similarities. The similarities to your father are limited to the thickness of your brows, the shape of your ears, but you haven't gotten attached to your appearance this time, because it's so hard to consolidate the image of the new you with all the hundreds of yous that have existed before.
This time, you've grown your hair out to about partway down your back—still long, but nowhere close to the longest you've ever kept it. You've built entire spells and magicka before for the express purpose, so you could rebuild your body from scratch if you wanted to. A new look every day, to try and capture who you once were, perhaps, or to mold yourself into someone new. You haven't bothered.
(Some days, your body doesn't even feel like a body, though you've felt a little bit more real as of late.)
Like right now, whenever Rintarou claps you on the back, reminding you that you both exist in the same plane. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you look like a different person."
"That's half the point," you say. "I've been on TV way too much with the hijab. I don't feel like making a fuss just yet." Rintarou snorts, as if he doesn't believe you whatsoever. "You think that just because I've already cut your allowance once this month, I won't do it again, but I will, dammit!"
"Yes, yes, my dearest Glucose Guardian."
"Jesus fucking Christ—"
"Luna's right, though, Master," Emma says, looking adorable in her own uniform for Camelot International's middle school. In contrast to the blazers the rest of you have donned, it's a sailor style design, and it suits Emma well. "You do look nice like this. I'm sure you'll make an impression anyways."
You're…not quite sure how you feel about that. Beforehand, the fame didn't bother you, so long as people stayed the hell out of your business. But that was a bit easier to make possible because you weren't out in public often, didn't have the potential of people clustering around you. And high school is, well—
Teenagers are a whole other beast in comparison to paparazzi. You can't get away with mauling them, for starters.
But if the alternative is Rintarou going on his own…
Like Emma, Rintarou has much improved since he's met you, but that ostracization is a lot for someone to deal with, reincarnation or no. Not to mention that this is just round two for him, so there's even less experience in brushing such things off. There's every chance that he might still attract negative attention for his genius, rehash his trauma all over again, which you don't want in any form. And Luna will help, no doubt—she did so in Canon, after all—but why even risk that?
If Rintarou's genius is a shiny distraction, then yours is a goddamn spotlight on a solo in the middle of a Broadway show.
"Well, it's not like talking about this is going to change how people react," you say, half to yourself, half to everyone else. "Let's go ahead and get this over with."
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"My name is Kujou Souma, and I'm going to be your homeroom teacher. Let's be sure to get along, okay?"
By this point, you've lost track of how many times you've gone through your first year of high school. Though it's an international institution, your current high school follows Japan's conventions in grading and classrooms since that's the closest place to where New Avalon was built—and the power of anime logic, blah, blah, blah. It's almost funny how often "logic" doesn't apply to the world around you when it happens to be the framework for a story. Either way, you've been through way more entrance ceremonies and first days of school than you care to remember. So many of your homeroom teachers have been, for better or worse, forgettable.
Oh, if only you had that problem now.
Kujou Souma—AKA Kujou Souma Gloria, one of the eleven participants in the King Arthur Succession Battle, the eventual King to have Lancelot as his Jack and an Excalibur that always manifests more power than the opponent standing before its wielder. You're a bit curious to see just how well that power happens to stand up against your abilities, but that will have to wait for the time being.
Considering you've decided to host another Succession Battle candidate in your home, you don't have much room to talk, but Kujou has the potential to be a problem. For one (again, you don't have much room to talk at all), he's one of the people who seems to think that murder is a-okay and plans to wipe out every other King on his path to glory. For another, he gets help from Morgan le Fey of all people, and she's a cheater, going and reviving people who went ahead and lost.
She makes this whole Battle a goddamn farce, to be blunt about it, but you're already planning on how to deal with her, so that's a non-issue.
Still, Luna wouldn't appreciate if someone like him tried to kill her friends, let alone anyone else. Canon Kujou was planning on killing Felicia to gain her magic from the very start; their alliance was a farce. Luna and Felicia are childhood friends; no way your newfound King is going to let that pass. And while you have no problem with letting Kujou into the battle so that you get the challenge of defeating that powerful enemy, but the rest?
Sorry not sorry, but you don't get to kill my King's friends. Not allowed.
If it weren't for the fact that you know Luna would be upset if you just murdered your homeroom teacher (even with good reason), you would have taken Kujou's head already. But that's a no go, so you're going to have to figure something else out. Like putting the fear of god into him so he competes fair and square so you can have a fun time, instead of turning this world into another blood bath, because with your level of power, it would be so, so easy to burn everything to the ground.
Gah, being an edgelord is supposed to be Rintarou's thing; calm down. It's time to give your class introduction anyways.
You stand, putting on a polite smile as you scan over the room. With a bit of money and magic, you made sure that you, Rintarou, and Luna all ended up in the same classroom. Your King's watching you with excitement, while Rintarou's grin is doubtless a sign of his amusement over someone like you having to give a class introduction like a normal teenager. You make a mental note to dock his allowance some more (which is a minor threat, considering that just how much you're giving him anyways) and speak:
"You can call me Safir." A couple of the other kids who were looking at you with some form of vague recognition have their expressions shift as you declare your name to not be what they expected—after all, why would someone as famous as you show up in their high school classroom? You follow it up with where you're from (a common introduction in a place where students are from all around the world) and toss in a couple of hobbies for good measure. Nothing out of the ordinary, because there's no need for that yet whatsoever, not so long as Rintarou's not having trouble.
And with that, your first day of school continues as normal as the many other lives you've lived before.
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Or, well, it does until classes conclude for the day. You've sat through the typical classes and spaced out through all of them. High class high school or no, it's not like there's anything in these lectures that you don't know already. Rintarou, who has a similar problem, spent the whole day playing a mobile game on his phone and answering your texts underneath the concealment magic you put up. Sleight is super versatile, considering that it's a base-level spell in this world.
Maybe you should feel ashamed for taking the seat of a student who would benefit in this classroom. You make a second mental note to donate an extra chunk to the educational institutions you contribute to already to repent for your sins and then stand up from your desk to stretch out. Rintarou, who was half dozing off during homeroom, yawns.
"We heading home, then?" he asks, stretching his arms above his head. "Or maybe we should go ahead and stop somewhere to eat, though we'll need to pick up Emma first."
"Oh, oh!" Luna says, her excitement palpable. "That sounds perfect. This is a royal order—take your King out for crepes!"
"Don't go wasting your royal orders on nonsense like that."
You give them both a smile, though it's at half strength. "Sounds fun, but I have something else important on my schedule. To make up for it, though, I'll reimburse your snack fees, though. Just be sure to bring me the receipts, 'kay?"
The concept of a free afternoon of splurging wins over Luna in an instant. "Alright, then, Rintarou! Find me crepes! And cake, too! Hell, let's just go to a sweets buffet and stuff ourselves silly."
"Why does that sound like you're planning on having me be your line of credit?" Rintarou asks with that tone of fake disgust that he's perfected over these past months. Luna's not listening, already back to her desk and tossing what seems to be the wrong books for her homework into her bag. Rintarou looks back to you, and you recognize the seriousness in his eyes. "Safir."
His pronunciation of your new name is filled with several things: a warning, a plea, an accusation. The one way he could have punched you any harder in the heart would be if he had called you Ophelia, and it's a saving grace that he hasn't, because you might just spill everything you've been thinking about on him right then and there.
"This isn't like with Emma," you say, keeping your voice low so Luna doesn't overhear. "This is just laying out the groundwork for things to be more enjoyable later on. You don't want spoilers, now do you?"
"No, but…" You know what he's thinking about, the way your magic distorted as you came back from France, the way that was belying all sorts of complicated feelings inside of you, the trauma of lives gone by. But this isn't like that, because Kujou Souma Gloria isn't someone you empathize with; he's just an arrogant man that needs to be knocked down a peg. "If you come back like last time, I'll be even more pissed off at you."
"I promise not to get that bad alone," you say, meaning it. Rintarou's comfort was nice, was what you needed last time. Now that you know that, there's every chance that you'll be drawn to his side the next time you remember something unpleasant. "This one's just a courtesy visit, okay? And if I'm a liar, then you'll have every right to kick my ass for it."
"I'll hold you to that," Rintarou says, not even bothering to fill up his school bag as he goes over to Emma, slinging an arm over her shoulders. "Come on, King Airhead, we don't wanna keep Emma waiting too long. Then I'll find the most expensive dessert buffet you could want, and we'll go wild."
Rude.
Ah, well, all things considered, that's the least amount of damage he could do to you, so you let it go. You have other things to do. Rintarou and Luna are gone soon after, and you glance around the room, seeing who all is left, only to catch Fuyuse Nayuki's pale eyes trailing after them with something like longing.
I'll deal with that later.
At the head of the room, Kujou's about to head out of the door, and you put on your best chipper and innocent smile to chase after him. "Kujou-sensei! Sorry, but could I talk about some things with you?"
Being bubbly and energetic is no problem for you whatsoever, just another persona that you're adept at wielding. Sucking up to people happens to fit well with this mindset, too, but you don't know if you're willing to use it on this man whose ego is already so inflated that it's painful. Getting the top Excalibur and the most powerful Jack didn't do him any favors, either. The True King, your ass. On his own, can he even pass muster?
It's time to find out.
"Ah…Safir-san, was it?" he asks, and you beam at him, like it matters that he remembered your name. Oh, well, he's going to remember it now, and even more so after what you're about to do to him. "Did you need help with something today?" You're almost impressed by his caring teacher act, except for the fact that you're not, because there's a malice leaking out of his aura that no veneer of sunshine and rainbows can contain. He may look bookish with his glasses, neat suit, and style waxed dark hair, but not judging books by covers and blah, blah, blah.
"Sorry to bother you already, but it's about…Ah, well, it's about something I'd rather not have anyone overhear, so can we talk somewhere else?" The cute and innocent act is super easy when your body is still that of a teen's, and Kujou suspects nothing from your request.
"Of course. Let's go to the teachers' offices; we'll have more privacy there." You grin, trying to reign in your predatory instinct from overflowing; it won't do any good if he's suspicious of you—or maybe that would be more fun? Either way, you just don't want to cause a fuss by having your homeroom teacher vanish in front of a bunch of witnesses, though you suppose you could just rewrite everyone's memories, too? No, not with Fuyuse Nayuki in the room, that would just cause way more trouble than it's worth.
The stairwell, on the other hand, is free game.
Kujou plays the polite teacher well enough, holding open the door for you. You give a short bow in performed thanks and start to lead the way down the stairs. The door closes, turning the chatter from the hallway into a muffled sound—and then even that vanishes as you rapid cast the Netherworld incantation, severing just the two of you from the time and place of Camelot International and into a space that's under your every command.
Kujou gasps, moving to react—but whatever he was about to do stops as you whirl around, your hand poised at his neck. While it may not look dangerous, Kujou's instincts are refined enough to recognize the compressed mana you've placed around your fingers that will shred through him like a chainsaw if he so much as makes the wrong move.
"You're…a mage?"
"Magician," you correct, though the semantics of it doesn't matter anywhere near as much in this round as it has before. "Though I suppose I've been a mage before, too. An onmyoji, a phantom thief, a demon slayer, an adventurer, a ranker… All sorts of dangerous things." Ah, there's something satisfying about watching someone arrogant look so shaken, and you haven't even gotten started yet. "Though I guess the most important thing to you right now is that I'm someone's vassal, Lord Gloria."
It's the sarcastic use of his noble title that makes Kujou realize what this is all about. The King Arthur Succession Battle is something he understands, and that's a whole lot better for his psyche than admitting that he doesn't have the faintest clue about what in the world you are. "You're a vassal, huh? Then you should know there's no merit to attacking me before we've even gone to Camlann Hill to receive our Round Fragments."
"I don't need you to explain the rules to me," you say, kicking out another metaphorical leg from his already shaky internal support. "I understand what there's merit in doing and what there's not merit in doing. And I deemed that putting you in your place is something worth plenty of merit for my means." You pull your hand back, unable to resist a giggle. "I'm here to put you in your place, Lord Gloria; that's all there is to it."
"You…" The rage and anger bubbles up, winning over the fear for a moment. "You think you can speak that way to me? You're a mere vassal. I am a King, someone that has the right to trample over you as I see fit! I'll crush you without any issue whatsoever!"
"Ooh, someone's getting all excited," you say, taunting him by not looking intimidated in the slightest. Kujou doesn't even begin to rank on the list of challenging opponents you've dealt with across your lifetimes, not with a level of arrogance so unearned, not with that pathetic excuse for a killing intent radiating off him. "How about this? Prove yourself against the weakest of my abilities, and we'll see if you even have the right to stand on the same stage as me."
Kujou's teeth grit hard enough against each other that the strain is evident in his jaw. "You arrogant little…" What a fool; it's not arrogance if it's unearned. You hum a bit, twisting your mana to manifest a sword that you haven't wielded in ages. Every detail is recreated, from the pure gold of the hilt down to the eight-pointed star design at the base of the blade, though it no longer houses the power that was granted to it, inaccessible in this world.
(The dessert is hot, blazing, even more so in comparison to the dark dungeon you were just in, but this return to the scorching sun feels like home and victory all at once, because, even up against that asshole, it chose you, you are still worthy of leading others, you are worthy of becoming King, of taking your country back—)
Let's have a duel, shall we? One potential King to another—
This world and that couldn't be any more different in what it means to be a King, but that doesn't matter. In that lifetime, your soul was still young, and it was the first time you felt yourself twisting, no longer satisfied with the idea of peace when revenge was dangling ahead of you, ready to take. You were a warrior, then, one with more than enough skill to take on Kujou in something that's less of a mockery of a fair fight than it would be otherwise, not when you don't have any of your poisons on hand. Ah, yet another thing to remedy once this little errand is over.
"What's wrong, Lord Gloria? You don't have a weapon at the ready? For shame—"
You're charging, not even giving him an opportunity. Rintarou had already mastered keeping his weapons on hand before you even met him, and Emma and Luna have both learned how to arm themselves just as well without anyone seeing them who shouldn't. Kujou has nothing on hand, not even hidden beneath Sleight, and it's pitiful. Now, he's chanting some spell, some sort of summons, but if that's where he kept his blade, why wasn't that his first instinct upon dropping into someone else's Netherworld?
Pathetic.
You could slit his throat thrice over in the time it takes him to finish the incantation, but you're playing on what amounts to level one or two for you—and that's a generous estimate. Holding yourself back is almost more of a challenge than anything else, and, god, why'd you even bother, wasn't there a reason you made rule number one? Whatever, Kujou's got his blade out, and he's charging at you, but he's so rattled that there's at least twenty different openings in his stance. You pick the most obvious one and exploit it.
Your swords collide with the all-too familiar clang of metal on metal, though you don't even feel the vibration in the hilt. Kujou, on the other hand, isn't anywhere near as lucky, since he fumbles, though he does recover his sword before you can knock it away, which is the first impressive thing you've seen him do this whole time.
"Don't you toy with me! All I have to do is kill you, and this Netherworld of yours will crumble!"
"Eh, you can't even cast a counter to a Netherworld while fighting? That's sloppy of you, Lord Gloria!"
Arrogant people like him are so easy to piss off; you should know, you've been them, you've been around them, hell, you've married some of them. Their buttons are so simple, and Kujou's done nothing to account for that possibility, nothing to train himself. His nice and handsome teacher mask has ripped away into rage, and you don't even have to step things up a notch to get the one up on him. You yawn, the thinness of your blade catching his wrist, spilling blood, and then you jab forward, aiming straight for the heart.
Whoops, wrong skillset. Ah, well, could've gone way more overboard.
Though it would be simpler, you do not kill Kujou Souma Gloria. Yes, your blade hits home, piercing his heart and sending him toppling to the ground, but you stymie the bleeding with magic so he won't die right away. Oh, it hurts like a bitch, sure, but you'll heal him once he gets the point. Feeling nostalgic, you stomp your foot down on his chest, wishing you still had the heel at the end of your boot for emphasis, as impractical as it was.
"Who," Kujou wheezes, "the hell are you?"
"I said it already, didn't I?"
("How many times do I have to tell you? Call me—")
"You can call me Safir." That's who you are now, that's who you've chosen to be. "I'm not impressed at all, Lord Gloria. You couldn't even put a scratch on me when I wasn't even trying. Guess using bloodlines to determine one's right to rule is just as stupid in this world as it is in every other one. 'Divine blessing,' my ass." Oh, wait, how many times did you inherit a position of power? Whatever; it's still a stupid system, no matter what. "Well, offing you would just mean someone else with Gloria blood would have to step up and take your position, and I don't wanna deal with someone just as bad as you are. But, like, if you try to kill anyone on my watch, I'll be very displeased." Manipulating magicka, you weave together a simple contract, one that wraps around Kujou's still injured heart and gives it a squeeze. "You didn't seem all that proficient with magic from where I was standing, but you can guess at what this curse will do, yes?"
Kujou pales, recognizing that you've just put a nasty spell on him that will have Consequences if he doesn't behave himself. "Wh-what do you want—"
"Be a little less of a homicidal maniac for starters. Oh, and maybe suck a little less by the time the King Arthur Succession Battle starts. That'd be appreciated, too." How is this battle supposed to be any fun if this is what you're up against? Well, at least there's the Knights of the Round Table if all else fails. "But, yeah, do try not to kill anyone, 'cause if you do, I'm gonna have to kill you, and that's just going to make everything messy." Luna would figure out it was you, one way or another, and you are not dealing with that on top of the ten-thousand other things on your plate, no siree. "Oh, and if I think of anything else, I'll be sure to let you know. We have an understanding, Lord Glo—ah, Sensei?"
It's the switch back to the unassuming, cutesy student persona that tips him over the mental edge, makes it register with Kujou just how much of a terror you can be. Or at least he thinks he does—in reality, he understands nothing, because even when your second life had fangs, it's nowhere near the most unhinged your soul ended up being, oh no. And having all of that compounded on your current self is what makes you the most dangerous of all.
But those are things he might come to recognize later, in time, in time.
In the present, Kujou is nodding, desperate to show his understanding. "We do. I'll be sure to watch myself, even when the Succession Battle starts, I promise! Just don't—"
"I'll keep my word so long as you keep yours," you almost sing. You skip away from his body, dancing across the nebulous floor of your Netherworld, weaving spells as you hum to yourself, feeling happy and free. Oh, how nice it is to be alive, to be moving your own body! Sometimes the memories make you appreciate the little things all the more. "Let's see, it'd be trouble if you didn't show up for school tomorrow, so I'll make sure your injuries heal up no issue by then. Oh, and set the release timer for the Netherworld; can't forget that! Though you're free to try and escape on your own; breaking free won't set off that spell on you, so go for it, for real, I encourage you!"
The realization dawns on Kujou that, unless he breaks out himself, you're just planning on leaving him here for the evening. "Wait, you can't—"
"Oh, but I can. If you don't like it, prove that you're worthy of that King title you want so bad and crawl your way out, okay, Sensei?"
And with a wave and another twirl, you step out of the Netherworld and back into the stairwell, hopping your way down them, texting Rintarou for the address of wherever it is the rest of your housemates have decided to go spend your money.
^^^^
lo0ol
"You're looking chipper," Rintarou says as you slip into the booth seat beside him (as requested, this is the most expensive dessert buffet on the whole of New Avalon, five stars on Yelp and everything, and Luna and Emma are refilling their plates for the moment). Your shoulder bumps into Rintarou, and you can't help but giggle. "I take it your spoiler-filled errand went well?"
"Yup, yup. And it feels great to have a plan go well." You've decided that you're going to apply your fuck holding back mandate to the buffet, too; so many different cakes to try! Maybe you've channeled a little bit too much from Round Two; just existing feels way too good. Oh, well! "You know, Rintarou-chan, I think that I'm gonna have an even better time this round than I thought!"
After all, you've already saved Emma, not to mention knocked out the issue of Kujou from the early rounds of the fight. He'll be way harder for Morgan le Fey to manipulate like this—assuming she even gets the chance. Because she's the next target on your list, and it's going to be oh so very fun to put her into her place. All you have to do is hunt down her disguise as Mimori Tsugumi, and that problem's as good as solved, too.
^^^^
lo0ol
Except Mimori Tsugumi isn't on the Camelot International student roster like it should be.
Mimori Tsugumi doesn't exist anywhere at all.
[Author's Notes]
It's been a year since I posted the first part of this. It's officially a thing now. If only I could just my hands on the next novel volume.
This part was beta'd by the awesome PunkTrashNoiz, thanks a bunch.
I was originally planning more for this part, but it ended up becoming a beast, so I decided to focus on the Kujou stuff, because yeah.
Now to go sleep forever as I recover from my wisdom teeth extraction.
-Avi
[04.18.2021]