The Training Institute for Magic Knights of Alfrea had a large basement. The teachers seldom entered it, much less the students, but it had been prepared to allow students to gain experience against real live monsters.
This underground facility was entirely covered in steel walls to make sure the monsters wouldn't be able to escape. It had a radius of around thirty meters and a high ceiling that stood over ten meters. Most monsters could unleash their abilities without being constrained by space (there were a few who were too large still, but there was no helping that).
The main reason the training facility had been built underground was to avoid innocent people getting hurt. Outside, a monster could overpower a student and flee all the way to the closest village. Even if it didn't reach a village, it could attack a traveling merchant or a worker. The school often received deliveries of food and other goods, after all, so such people were often found in close proximity.
In the past, this training had been completed outdoors, in arenas delimited by fences. Since that had changed, it was most likely because a tragedy had occurred, although no one was familiar with the details. Monsters could leap over fences, dig holes under them, or break them. A breach was far from impossible. How the monsters had escaped and what exactly had happened didn't really matter, though. The school had learned and changed its ways to avoid any future mishaps.
In this underground training facility was a secret stairway that not even the teachers knew about. Dias, the previous headmaster, had built it himself to shelter his master, Alexia. If you went down this flight of stairs, you'd first be faced with a stone door. Beyond this door were two stone statues, and between them, a pathway. After a few meters, the pathways would branch off into several small corridors that led to the witch's bedroom, kitchen, living room, toilet, and bathroom. There was also an antechamber where monsters could stay.
The witch's bedroom was so luxurious that anyone who saw it would have trouble believing it was hidden deep within a basement. The spacious, rectangular room seemed to be straight out of a noble's mansion, with snakeskin wallpapers hiding the crude stone walls. Parquet covered the floor, and fancy rugs had been added. The room was also extensively furnished; it included a bed, a table, chairs, several bookshelves, and even a pendulum clock. Paintings, mostly of magnificent landscapes and wide blue skies, decorated the walls. The person who'd picked them—Dias, in this case—had obviously tried to make sure Alexia wouldn't feel trapped. You could feel his solicitude in his choices. He wanted her to live in the most pleasant environment possible.
Dias had hidden her right under the knights' noses. And what better place to hide? After all, who could have thought that the witch was hidden in the basement of the academy—the very institution that was tasked with raising knights that would go on to defeat her alongside the saint?
Alexia, the witch, was currently sitting on her bed and biting her fingernails, an annoyed look on her face.
Alexia was a gloomy woman. Her silver hair reached her lower back, but it had absolutely no shine. At first glance, it looked just like the gray hair of an old woman. There was no hint of life in her half-lidded eyes, and large dark circles rested underneath them. Her cheeks were sunken, and her skin was rough. Her lips were a strange shade of purple, and her nails had turned yellow.
Her beauty had faded, and those who'd laid eyes upon her in her prime would surely struggle to recognize the former saint. There were portraits and bronze statues of past saints at the academy. In these pictures, Alexia was a beautiful woman with lustrous silver hair—an accurate representation of what she'd looked like in her prime. Now, however, she was but the shadow of her former self. Even her clothing had changed. In the past, she wore pure white dresses, just like the ones Ellize wore so often. Now, she was clad in a pitch-black robe. She almost seemed to merge with the darkness as she sat silently on her bed.
It wasn't like witches had to trade in their white dresses for dark, villainous outfits. Their faces didn't necessarily have to look like that either. In fact, several saints hadn't changed one bit after becoming witches. If the truth about the saints becoming witches hadn't spread so far, it was purely because the royals did an amazing job at muzzling those who expressed doubt. Alexia, however, looked like an entirely different person. Most probably wouldn't believe she was the saint who'd once saved the world.
"Dias, oh, Dias. Tell me, has that girl..." she whispered. "Has Ellize left the school yet? Did you drive her out? I know... You're the headmaster so you can expel her, can you not? You can, right?"
"My saint, Ellize has yet to notice your presence," the voice of the Stil's bird came. "You have already asked me to expel her, but I'm afraid I cannot do so. She's the saint. If I do something so conspicuous, she'll surely come to distrust me. She may even demand that I step down from my position as the headmaster. If I'm cast away, there won't be anyone left to protect you. Please be patient, my saint."
The bird was perched on the table, repeating Dias's message to Alexia.
These days, Dias didn't visit her at all. With Ellize at the academy, he couldn't risk it, he'd said. He'd told her he didn't want Ellize to follow him and uncover the truth.
"I know that, Dias. But how long are you going to make me wait? I can't help but worry she'll notice. I'm so anxious that I haven't had a good night's sleep ever since she showed up," Alexia said.
"I know that, Dias. But how long are you going to make me wait? I can't help but worry she'll notice. I'm so anxious that I haven't had a good night's sleep ever since she showed up," the bird repeated.
The bird could not understand the meaning of Alexia's words. All it knew to do was imitate the voices of stronger, bigger animals. The bird would surely repeat these words once more—to "Dias."
After she'd sent the bird away, Alexia laid down and wrapped herself in her blanket. She was scared of Ellize, the new saint. As a former saint herself, she could see clearer than anyone else that Ellize was a monster.
Ellize most likely hadn't noticed, but Alexia had personally seen her fight once. She'd led monsters to attack a city when Ellize—who was twelve at the time, if memory served—had showed up. She'd slaughtered them all in a matter of minutes. Alexia had given up on her army and fled at once.
Ellize wasn't human; she couldn't be. She could fly and rain down blades upon her enemies. For some reason, the soldiers who'd picked up the blades of light she'd created had become strange too. On top of that, whenever a monster tried to attack her directly, its attack would be reflected right back at it tenfold. Ellize had trampled her army down like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Alexia knew that saints were stronger than most ordinary humans, and they were also immune to most sources of damage, but that was all there was to it. Saints weren't some sort of demigods.
Alexia was good at magic. That was how she knew that Ellize's magical powers made absolutely no sense. At twelve, she had already been a hundred times stronger than Alexia was. Five years had passed since that day. Ellize was now seventeen, and far from getting weaker, her powers had only grown with the years. The strength of a spell depended on the amount of mana you could pump into it. The same spell would be very, very different depending on whether you used ten points of mana or thirty. The way this all worked was fairly straightforward: the latter would be three times as powerful. In short, your mana capacity determined your firepower, and Ellize's firepower, at twelve, had been a hundred times that of Alexia's.
There was no way Alexia could ever beat such a monster. In fact, there was nothing in this world that could stand up to Ellize. Alexia didn't need to fight to realize that. From that day onward, she'd lived in fear, hidden in the basement.
Dias kept her up to date, but she couldn't believe what he told her. Ellize had overturned what several generations of witches had accomplished in a matter of years. She'd taken back an island witches had needed decades to invade in a single day. She'd killed an archmonster Alexia had been forced to avoid back when she'd been a saint for fear it would kill her. Meanwhile, Ellize had destroyed it in a mere three seconds. The more she heard, the more she realized her initial fear had been right: Ellize wasn't someone she could handle.
Alexia thought it was unfair. When she'd been the saint, the world had been a dark, gloomy place. The responsibility for that dark age lay with Lilia, the saint who'd preceded her and had died without carrying out her duty. As a result, Alexia had been forced to overcome ridiculous odds in her quest to defeat the witch. The pressure she'd been forced to bear had been tremendous. The people had needed her to defeat the witch—they wouldn't have accepted failure. Plus, Griselda, the previous witch, had lived longer than most, since she'd gone unchallenged by Lilia. This meant she had far more underlings than most witches in history.
And yet, Alexia had managed to overcome her fears. She'd known she had to fulfill her duty, so she'd refused to listen to the little voice inside her head that screamed at her to run. She'd watched many of her comrades die, but in the end, she and Dias had prevailed—they'd fought and killed the witch.
All that awaited her after defeating Griselda, though, was a terrible betrayal. The king of the Bilberry Kingdom, Aiz, had trapped her in her own castle and had thrown monsters at her. In the end, these monsters had sided with her, and she'd been able to escape, but Alexia's entire world had shifted in an instant. She'd gone from being an acclaimed saint to a feared witch. Alexia had felt crestfallen, frustrated, and, more than anything, resentful toward those who'd betrayed her.
That didn't mean Alexia had let herself become the witch. She'd hid and resisted her compulsions. After all, if she were to truly become the next witch, those who'd betrayed her would be in the right. She'd refused to give them that. However, the deep-seated grudge she'd received from Griselda had continued to eat at her soul day after day. Becoming a witch didn't mean suddenly changing personalities overnight. They'd receive the previous witches' memories, and those dark emotions would slowly pile up within them until they'd devoured them whole. They'd see everything humans had done ever since the days of the first witch. They'd see their unsightly behavior. They'd feel the betrayal the other witches had experienced deep in their gut. And, eventually, their heart would be stained black. The white canvas that they'd been would be dragged through the mud until there was no hope of cleaning it up anymore.
A saint's heart was white—devoid of any impurity or stain. But no color was easier to dye than pure white.
Alexia had been no exception. After she'd resisted with all her might for a certain time...she'd finally given in and started hating the world. She'd become the next witch.
She was in so much pain. She'd suffered so much and overcome her greatest fears, only to be betrayed and forced to fight once again—forced to resist the dark thoughts that spun inside her head. So how could others enjoy the peace without a second thought for her? She couldn't let that go.
If the world had made her go through all that suffering, then surely the world itself was in the wrong. Once she'd realized that, Alexia gave up on fighting and embraced her new condition.
After she'd become the next witch, though, Alexia had once again been forced to endure fear. She'd defeated Griselda, one of the most powerful witches in history, and was now faced with Ellize, the greatest saint in history.
She wanted to cry. Surely, the world was playing a cruel joke on her. Why did it hate her so much? It wouldn't even allow her to express her rage.
Why me? Why do I have to go through all this?
The coup de grâce had come when Ellize had transferred to the academy. From that point onward, Alexia had been plagued with insomnia.
She was scared Ellize would discover her if she made the slightest noise. She now flinched at the smallest of sounds. When would Ellize notice her? Had she noticed something already?
She wanted to flee, to teleport and disappear to somewhere far, far away. If she did so, though, she truly wouldn't have anyone left. The witch could only teleport alone. She wouldn't be able to bring the monsters that dwelled in the basement or Dias with her. What would she do then? She'd be left weakened and alone in a world that did not welcome her... A world shaped in Ellize's image.
The saint had completely reclaimed the land. There was nowhere left for Alexia to hide, no allies to turn to. They were all on Ellize's side now.
Even though she knew all that, Alexia couldn't take it anymore. Staying there was taking a toll on her in ways she couldn't bear. She needed to get out.
Please, please, please! Don't notice me, she'd pray every day, shivering under her blanket.
"I humbly greet you, Lady Alexia..."
"O-Oh... Hello, Shadow."
A shadow approached Alexia's trembling form. The shadow was a very peculiar being. Although Alexia dwelled in the basement, torches and lanterns still lit up her living quarters somewhat. A path of dim light illuminated the way through the corridors and into Alexia's bedroom so that the Stil's birds could find their way. However, the shadow remained pitch black. It was as though light couldn't reach it.
The walking shadow put its hand—could that dark lump truly be called a hand?—on Alexia's shoulder to comfort her.
"Shadow... I'm so scared. Why do I have to go through all this? Why does the world despise me so? I don't know what to do anymore. Help me, Shadow... Tell me what to do..."
"I believe you should flee at once. You should teleport."
"I-I can't do that! I have no allies outside! They'll find me in no time, and she'll come for me! Don't you know how that dreadful spell works? It's forbidden for a reason. I'll have to break my body apart... It'll reform when I reach my destination, but I'll lose all the strength I've acquired over the years. I'm already too weak to face her. What am I to do if the gap between us widens even more? It's foolish... Teleporting is out of the question."
The shadow silently looked at its master. Constant fear had robbed her of her beauty.
Had Alexia been able to compose herself and think, she would have realized that staying in the basement was a terrible idea. Ever since she'd transferred to the academy, Ellize had been using it as her base. According to Dias, she hadn't discovered the basement and didn't know about Alexia. However, that raised a question—why had the saint remained in the academy?
Even if she didn't know about the basement, she must have found some sort of hint. She had to know that the witch was hiding somewhere in or near the school, even if she didn't know where exactly. At any rate, remaining in the academy was suicide. The witch needed to escape as soon as possible and rebuild her strength somewhere else.
The issue, as Alexia had pointed out, was that the witch didn't have any other allies. Ellize had returned the land to human dominion, and Alexia was terrified of having to fend for herself alone in enemy territory.
Ellize had won their game of othello. The entire board was white, except for one piece, and she was about to pick it up and turn it over. There was no coming back from that.
Even so, Alexia couldn't bring herself to run away. Her fear had entombed her in this place.
"I understand, Lady Alexia... Would you allow me to get rid of your fears for you?" the shadow said.
"I-It's impossible! You can't beat Ellize!"
"Don't worry. I do not mean to confront Ellize directly. I know I am no match for that monster. I just think that she remains here because she believes that you, the witch, are here too. If we dispel her suspicion, she'll leave this place. I have a plan..." the shadow said, wiggling in an uncanny way. Its eyes—or rather, the dark space where its eyes should have been—gleamed.
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