Chapter 137
In the memory of Francesca.
There were almost no interactions for a few years starting from the time her father, Niklas, began to talk to himself.
It was a thing of the past when she used to receive knowledge about spirit summoning or have meals together; he rarely returned home.
What she knew at the time was that Niklas had become deeply immersed in “some research,” and those who had entrusted themselves to him had left.
Thus, Francesca gradually became an ordinary human unrelated to spirit summoning, while her father sunk deeper into its swamp.
Then one day, once again, her fate began to unfold chaotically.
—Francesca, run faster! Come on! If this continues, that guy will catch you…!
Dilated pupils and hurried breaths.
A rough, sweaty hand was pulling her along.
Francesca was almost dragged away by Niklas as she fled.
Her thin wrist was bruised red and cried out in pain.
Yet, she didn’t express any pain verbally.
Even if her shoes came off and her dirty feet got pricked by thorns, and her beautiful cheeks and body bore numerous wounds.
Her father was too busy pulling her along forcefully to give her a moment to take care of herself, and Francesca couldn’t ignore the expression on Niklas’s face.
Rustle, rustle.
She recalled that it was very cold at that time, but it must not have been winter. She could still feel the crunch of the fallen leaves beneath her feet.
—Boom!
Like the onset of war, the forest roared loudly from behind.
Niklas often turned his head to glance back. They were already being pursued this much. Although they were desperately fleeing, it wouldn’t be long before…!
The dark forest, shrouded by clouds, hid their figures but also obscured their sight.
Francesca and Niklas often tripped over stones or roots, stumbling along the way.
Despite this, he never let go of the large book he kept in his arms.
Francesca recognized that book, a product of Niklas’s relentless writing ever since his demeanor had changed.
Even if he left behind gold and treasures, he brought Francesca and the book with him.
Niklas, panting, said:
His words carried earnestness and sorrow.
—Listen carefully, Francesca. Never forget…!
Amidst being pulled frantically, amidst the rustling leaves and crashing sounds of pursuit, she could clearly hear her father’s voice.
—I’ve written down part of the way to save your mom in this book.
“I’ve written it down in this book.
Niklas pleaded that if anything were to happen to him, someone should continue his research with this book.
Francesca hadn’t looked into necromancy at all since her mother passed away, but she understood how desperate her father was.
This is not a mutual agreement; it’s one-sided.
Before she could even respond, the conversation came to an end.
⎯I’m asking you…
The pursuer burst in.
With a flash⎯.
It sounded like the sky was collapsing.
In that moment, the dark world brightened, and Francesca saw her father Niklas’s sunken eyes, slightly pressed nose, and gently smiling lips.
He had been hit by something.
At that moment, Niklas placed the book and Francesca down.
⎯Dad…
It was a very brief moment, but the memory of it is as vivid as if I can recall it just by closing my eyes.
Her father’s smile sharply contrasted with his very sad eyes.
Though he didn’t express it verbally, it was perfectly conveyed to Francesca.
‘I’m sorry… my daughter.’
On a night when the moon was not out.
Her bright yellow eyes, like a full moon, saw this clearly and remembered it.
In an instant, Niklas disappeared from view.
Reflected in her yellow moon was instead a mane of red hair, belonging to a man.
The red hair fluttered along with blood.
Though they were similar in color, they belonged to different owners.
Whether it was magic or how it happened, she still doesn’t know, even now.
She couldn’t even properly understand what was happening at that time.
What she knew for sure was that the blood belonged to her father, Niklas.
And the red hair belonged to Sylvester, the hero at the pinnacle of power.
…
And now, the woman standing before Francesca has hair of the same color as that man.
“Clemens…”
The woman Francesca spoke of was gracefully swinging a long lance with one hand, wearing a relaxed smile.
The two of them, who took the same elective class, were currently set up for a 1-on-1 combat match.
Francesca attempted to use numerous Skeleton Soldiers to block Clemens, who continued the fight with just her lance and aura without riding her specialty, a wyvern.
The lance Clemens held was difficult to wield effectively without being mounted, due to its distinct length and form.
However, it seemed as if she had no physicality, handling it lightly and sending the skeletons back into the soil.
With her one step.
In a single movement, the clattering soldiers were shattered.
In the end, only two soldiers remained to protect Francesca.
Clemens looked at the skeletons and said, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen these two soldiers.”
“…”
The last skeletons standing to protect Francesca looked different from the others.
While many soldiers half-heartedly wore armor or had no weapons at all, these two soldiers were fully equipped.
They were cloaked in full plate armor, and one wielded an axe while the other held a longsword, exuding fierce aura.
The blue auras of the axe and longsword glimmered.
The power felt from them was also different, vibrant, almost alive.
Clemens had seen these soldiers several times before.
Moreover, in moments just like this one, she’d faced them in mock battles, and they had always been quite a nuisance.
It was indeed a rather annoying existence.
The red aura surrounding the lance held by Clemens became even more solid.
Clemens’ pupils deepened in color as they reflected the light of the red aura. She opened her mouth.
“I have something I want to ask.”
“…”
Francesca and Clemens had been clashing since they enrolled in Academia, but they had never really had a proper conversation.
Francesca gestured as she empowered the two soldiers, and although Clemens couldn’t hear the response, she continued to engage them.
Clemens thrusts her lance forward.
“I heard a rumor.”
“…A rumor?”
Clemens quickly darted into the gap of a soldier wielding an axe.
Despite the soldier’s armor being surrounded by a thick aura, it crumpled like a punctured melon.
Francesca hastily retreated the soldier and empowered the one with a sword, causing him to swing down.
Clemens evaded with a light movement and continued her line of questioning.
“There’s a rumor that you sneak out of the dormitory every night.”
“…….”
“Not denying it means it’s true, huh?”
“Well, there’s no curfew in the dormitory building.”
Clemens raised the corners of her mouth at Francesca’s reply.
Francesca amplified the quality of mana she poured into the soldiers, as if displeased with Clemens’ relaxed demeanor.
The movements of the soldiers became quicker and their action patterns more complicated.
Clemens’ gaze read the movements of the two soldiers.
She either dodged or countered with her lance, gradually pushing them back.
Despite her rather aggressive movements, Clemens maintained a steady breath and calm voice.
“It seems like when you go out, it takes you a long time to come back… Where do you go?”
“…Did you have this much interest in me?”
“Did you think I would be indifferent to you, a competent spirit summoner and a fellow student?”
Francesca drew even more mana.
The flowing mana in the air responded and pulsated.
Like a conductor hitting the highlight, Francesca’s movements intensified.
She replied to Clemens.
“I’m not obligated to answer.”
At that, Clemens’ previously calm voice turned icy.
“Right, so that’s how it is.”
“……!”
Francesca’s pupils expanded.
The current scene imprinted itself onto her retina.
Along with the smell of gunpowder, Clemens vanished from sight.
The two soldiers protecting Francesca also disappeared.
No… to be precise, Clemens and the two soldiers could still be seen.
But the reason she felt as if they were gone was that—
KWAANG⎯⎯!
Clemens had swiftly pierced through the two soldiers with her lance.
She was now delivering a third strike aimed directly at Francesca.
The noise of the fallen soldiers hadn’t even reached her ears.
She lunged at Francesca as though she would kill her right then and there.
⎯I’m sorry… our daughter.
The vivid fragments of the past surfaced.
At that moment, her father’s last image overlapped with her own, and Clemens identified with the red-haired man.
Dad.
Our kind dad…
And the one who turned Dad into a lifeless corpse…
⎯BEEP!
A loud shrill sound announced the end of their duel.
Francesca’s clear eyes focused ahead.
Clemens’ lance did not pierce Francesca’s forehead. It was only natural since it was part of the lesson.
It was.
“…That was a good match, Francesca.”
Clemens said as she retracted her lance.
Francesca showed no reaction.
“……”
Once the class ended, everyone left.
Clemens, who had fought against Francesca, also went outside with her followers.
Currently, only Francesca remained in this place.
She stood still, listening to the silence with her ears and feeling it with her skin.
Her eyes were vacant.
Transparent and lonely.
However, she had a clear goal.
She looked strong.
*
I was training at night like any other day.
However, there was one slight difference: I was practicing in the clearing under the moonlight to clear my head while breathing in the night air.
I was moving the mana, which had become somewhat uncomfortable due to a self-imposed curse, and altering it.
Every time I changed the nature of the mana, its inherent properties also changed, and I felt this subtle shift.
No matter how much I imposed limitations, it was still a transcendent amount of mana.
The finesse and reaction when handling mana didn’t fade away.
To embody this, I repeated the process while my mind rolled over ideas for the story.
‘Francesca from the original narrative….’
In the original festival episode.
Francesca, swayed by Liam’s words, tried to control the Ancient Dragon and the Skeleton Soldiers, who wouldn’t follow her commands at all.
But it didn’t work out at all, and she was in a bind.
She pulled out one method.
Though it was incomplete, the spell of the Ancient Dragon was inherited from her father and created by Francesca herself.
Thus, it would be solved if the caster herself died.
However, our kind-hearted protagonist wouldn’t just sit idly by and sought other solutions together.
Then, as a direct crisis from the Ancient Dragon confronted the group, Francesca revealed the hidden solution she had been keeping until the last moment.
It was to destroy the ‘book,’ the heirloom from her father, which was the medium of the spell.
Having made up her mind, Francesca burned away any trace of her father.
Though destroying the book didn’t solve all problems at once, it significantly weakened the power of the Ancient Dragon.
As a result, the enemies were subdued safely, and the episode concluded without issue.
‘…It shouldn’t go down like that. The Ancient Dragon shouldn’t fall so easily.’
Francesca had to rampage.
Her force and the Ancient Dragon must resist even more fiercely.
Doing it halfway wouldn’t wrap up Francesca’s narrative cleanly.
As evidence of that, didn’t Francesca commit suicide two years later?
To leave not a trace of regret, she must expel all the impurities that had accumulated in her body.
I was prodding Francesca onward.
I was heightening Francesca’s emotions by subtly leaking information to Clemens through Frieda.
Francesca would lead the festival into chaos.
She would pour out all the emotions she had held back, becoming a villain rather than a heroine, while facing the crowd’s criticism and condemnation.
And I would bring about her downfall in front of everyone and conclude Francesca’s narrative.
Spirit Summoner Francesca.
Through this festival, she must meet her death once.
That way, instead of perishing, she could become my ally.
