Chapter 125: Call My Name (2)
So, when I called her Astrid… it meant Astrid von Miterien, the one Leopold von Einthafen had known all along.
And when I called her Astie…
“Astie.”
“Yes.”
“Astrid.”
“Your Highness, maybe stop testing it—”
“Astie.”
“Stop it, please.”
“Astrid.”
“Your Highness!”
This was more entertaining than I’d expected.
It was obvious.
Others might not notice, but to me, Leopold, the tone, the inflection, and the vibe alone made it clear whether this was the real Astrid or the one I’d spent that enjoyable time with.
Experiments aside, it wasn’t even that hard to figure out. Depending on how I addressed her—by her title, so to speak—the control of Astrid’s body switched.
When I called her Astie, the fake Astrid took over.
When I called her Astrid, the real Astrid did.
They took control of the body.
How had I not noticed this sooner?
To think I’d missed this.
Ignorance was bliss for Ashray.
I decided to keep this to myself.
Veracien found it amusing too and said she’d keep it to herself, but who knew with her?
Still, without proof, no one would believe it even if she blabbed, and it couldn’t be proven, so there was no real need to worry.
“…So, you’re saying you don’t know Astein’s true identity either.”
I sank into thought.
Veracien spilled everything so easily that it felt oddly suspicious.
***
I slammed the shield on my left arm into the monster’s head.
Violet de Autria knew well from experience that humanoid monsters had weaknesses similar to humans.
As proof, the monster I’d struck on the side of its head staggered, its eyes rolling back as its legs gave out.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I grabbed its head with my shielded hand and hacked at its neck with my axe.
The sound of flesh tearing and the sensation of tendons and muscles ripping hit me at once as the monster’s head separated from its body.
“There’s a lot of them.”
I kicked the collapsing body aside and tossed the head away, wiping the sweat from my face.
Ten days.
More than ten days had passed.
During that time, the cadets trapped in the academy, along with the instructors, had been relentlessly intercepting the endless waves of monsters.
The sky remained shrouded in a blood-red curtain, an impenetrable barrier that no one could cross in or out of.
“Violet, you okay?”
“Yeah.”
It was Emilie, someone I’d grown fairly close to by now.
Unlike me, a physical fighter, Emilie looked visibly exhausted. When I offered my shoulder, she didn’t hesitate to lean on it.
“How’s it looking?”
“Same as always.”
As a mage, Emilie’s fatigue was more mental than physical.
I carefully supported her and sat her down on a nearby half-broken bench.
Emilie didn’t resist, letting my hands guide her to sit.
“No progress or anything?”
I directed the question at Emilie, but the answer came from behind me.
“Unfortunately, not yet.”
I turned at the voice, and Emilie, who’d been leaning on the bench with a long sigh, opened her eyes.
“Instructor.”
A towering man.
It was Variant, the knight instructor who’d sparred with Astrid during the first class, only to be thoroughly dominated by her.
“How’s it going?”
“It’s bearable.”
The situation wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible either.
Even these monsters weren’t that much of a threat in the academy, the cradle of knight training in Einthafen.
The problem was their numbers—killing them didn’t stop more from appearing somewhere else, so the fighting never ceased.
Rest.
What we needed—desperately needed—was rest.
“The magic professors are doing their best to find a way to break it, so just hold on a little longer.”
“No problem.”
The first issue was the lack of a deadline.
The second was the lack of rest.
Casualties were piling up one by one, and the food supplies secured within the academy were dwindling.
“I can’t figure out where these monsters are even coming from…”
Monsters appearing wasn’t rare.
The unification war had stretched on for years, dulling awareness of them somewhat, but records of occasional monster sightings existed from long ago. Some academy graduates had been assigned to local knight orders to exterminate monsters and protect cities.
So, the monsters themselves weren’t surprising—it was their massive appearance right next to the empire’s heart, at the academy, that made it different.
At the same moment.
“I get that it’s a curse. But isn’t the key how we break it?”
Kreutz von Einthafen sat on a makeshift throne in a field tent, tapping his fingers as he glared at the blood-red curtain enveloping the academy.
They’d already run several tests.
They’d dropped grand magic on it, brought in siege tanks, and fired projectiles the size of palace beams, aiming to collapse it—but nothing worked.
It didn’t even nullify the impact; the magical and physical projectiles vanished without a trace the moment they touched it.
Kreutz felt inwardly frustrated but patiently waited in the tent for the soldiers debating among themselves to reach a conclusion.
A commander didn’t always make the right call.
He set the objective, proposed a strategy to achieve it,
Checked if the strategy had flaws,
Considered if there was a better one,
And determined what was needed to execute it.
He patiently waited for his subordinates to decide these things.
If it dragged on too long, he’d have to step in, but that was the role of a field commander.
Yet no sharp solution had emerged.
People couldn’t approach it, so going in directly was out.
Grand magic was ineffective, so that was out.
Physical projectiles didn’t work either, so that was out.
What was left?
It was hard to judge.
Even during the unification war, he’d never seen anything like this.
“Your Majesty.”
An officer overseeing the vanguard tower approached and knelt before Kreutz.
It was just a field tent, not an audience hall, so without formal protocol, communication was swift.
“Report.”
“His Grace Wolfgang von Miterien and Lord Baizik von Jorgien, Master of the Magic Tower, will arrive soon.”
“Oh? That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while.”
They must’ve rushed to get here so fast.
It hadn’t even been days since the message went out, so their swift arrival suggested urgency—proof the empire’s emergency network was functioning well.
With those two, solving this might be possible.
It’d be even better if Admiral Baikar de Autria from the southern fleet were here, but sadly, this wasn’t a coastal area, so that couldn’t be helped.
“Prepare a briefing. Tell them to come straight here upon arrival. They’ll know time’s short.”
“Anyway, Leo and Astie are outside, but your daughter’s in there, isn’t she?”
“That’s right. And Baikar’s daughter is probably still in there too.”
It wasn’t exactly a rare reunion, but gathering like this stripped away formalities, turning them into old friends without the pomp.
In a separate field tent, soundproofed with thorough magic, the three seated men shed their emperor-subject roles and became comrades.
“…Indeed.”
Baizik’s face didn’t look good, though.
No matter what, his daughter was inside that mysterious curtain, and he couldn’t help but worry.
“Come on, what kind of girl is my daughter? She’s not alone either—Baikar’s daughter is with her. They’ll manage fine. They’re not the type to fall to mere monsters, so put your worries aside and let’s figure out how to deal with this.”
Baizik forced a bright expression to shake off his concerns, but the worry lingered.
It was a parent’s heart, and neither Kreutz nor Wolfgang could say anything to that.
“So, it’s a curse, huh?”
“Right. Even then, there’s hardly any research on curses.”
“Curses, curses… Speaking of which, Wolfgang, don’t the barbarians up north have shamans?”
At Baizik’s words, Kreutz’s gaze shifted to Wolfgang too.
Since Wolfgang had spent years clashing with barbarians at the empire’s northernmost edge, they hoped he might’ve seen something, but he shook his head with a grim expression, silencing them again.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. Even during the unification war, some nations used curses, but nothing like this.”
“That’s true, but…”
“Anyway.”
Wolfgang paused.
Then, turning his gaze to the curtain, he opened his tightly shut mouth.
“Doesn’t it have some kind of durability? No shield is eternally unbreakable, so if we keep hitting it until it breaks, won’t it give?”
It made some sense.
No shield could withstand every attack forever—if it didn’t break, you just kept hammering until it did.
Very Wolfgang-like thinking.
“…And you’re saying I should do the hammering?”
“Exactly.”
The one doing the hammering wouldn’t be Wolfgang himself, but Baizik, capable of wielding high-level grand magic.
“Ugh. Fine, let’s try it.”
“Oh, looks like having you two here is finally getting us somewhere.”
“What’s a sword-slinger like you going to solve?”
“What, are you done talking?”
“Hey now.”
As the two bickered again, Baizik stood, stretching his back.
No audible crack, but it felt good.
‘…So, I need to break it in one shot.’
Since ordinary grand magic hadn’t worked, he’d need something more.
Baizik smacked his lips, pondering what to prepare.