A Regressor's Guide to Hunting in the Academy

Chapter 15

“Haaah...”

Grimory trudged down the corridor, sighing deeply enough to sink the floor. A dagger in one hand and her field guide in the other, she prowled the academy’s main building.

“Hey, Grimory! Don’t I look awesome?”

Either unaware of-or ignoring-Grimory’s gloom, Amecitia whipped out the sword Henrik had given her and struck pose after pose.

“Amecitia, you remember what Professor Henrik said, right?”

“Of course! Don’t draw weapons in front of people. Avoid combat whenever possible. And when this job’s done, we get all the sweets we want!”

“I don’t care about sweets. First rule-where are we?”

“First-floor corridor of the main building!” Amecitia answered, chin high.

And she was right. They were standing in the busiest hallway of the academy’s largest building, a constant stream of students flowing past.

Amecitia had already, spectrally, broken Henrik’s first rule.

“We’re not supposed to brandish weapons where people can see,” Grimory said, lifting the leather-sheathed dagger.

“There’s no one here, so it’s fine. As long as we don’t get caught, we’re golden.”

Amecitia began juggling her sword, adding flashy spins for good measure.

The corridor was crowded in theory, but most rooms were windowless practice labs; during class period nobody could see them. Still, in a place where anyone might appear at any moment, her childish antics grated on Grimory’s nerves.

“Footsteps,” Amecitia murmured.

“Footsteps? I don’t hear anything.”

Amecitia slid the blade home an instant before several students emerged from a classroom and climbed the stairs.

‘Seriously?’

Grimory shot her a sidelong glance. Amecitia beamed back, proud as a cat with feathers on its lips.

“See? Child’s play.”

“Haaah...”

Grimory pressed her temples, recalling Henrik’s briefing.

“You two will be my assistants.”

“Assistants?”

“He’s on guard against me right now. So you’ll act as bait. A couple of students at your level look easy prey; he’ll attack. When he does, ring this and alert me.”

Clink.

She drew the tiny bell from her pocket; its clear chime rang whenever she shook it.

“Just drop it on the floor, he said...”

She didn’t trust a gadget she’d never seen before.

“Still, using students as live bait feels wrong-”

Whack! Amecitia slapped her between the shoulder blades.

“Professor knows what he’s doing! Look-he trusted me with this mission. Let’s nail it together!”

“Second rule: avoid combat. Are you sure you understand that?”

“Obviously! If they look weaker than me, we beat them senseless!”

“...”

The road ahead looked bleak. Grimory had no clue how to rein in the noble juggernaut beside her.

‘House Flammeur produces knights galore-are they all like this?’

She followed the red fog tendrils across the polished floor. The mist trailed from the ceiling all the way to the basement stairs.

‘Where is the Professor and what’s he doing...?’

Through a window she saw knighthood students drilling in the training yard beyond.

She studied the dagger in her hand.

‘I wanted to be a scholar...’

Frail since birth, she’d always dodged anything physical.

She tugged her cap lower and inhaled.

‘I can do this. Just control my strength. Leave the heavy lifting to Amecitia.’

Trailing the demon’s traces, she halted at the basement staircase.

“Huh?”

Grimory whipped her head left and right.

“What’s up?”

“The trail... it ends here.”

To her eyes, the red thread snapped just before the first step.

“Hmm... classrooms above, below is-what, again? Amecitia, what’s downstairs?”

Amecitia rolled her eyes in thought.

“Storage, I think. So the trace goes inside?”

“Yeah, but-”

“...!”

Amecitia’s head snapped up; she stared at the basement door.

“Amecitia?”

“Something’s there.”

Instinct told her an indescribable something was squirming beyond the door, watching them.

“Let’s take a look.”

“Wait-what?!”

“If we only peek, it should be okay. I’ll shield you; you get ready to call Professor.”

“Fine. The moment we confirm it’s a demon, we run back up.”

“Deal.”

Grimory’s first instinct was to dash back upstairs and tell Henrik the basement was sealed off.

Amecitia, however, had other plans; she wanted proof.

‘So this is that famous Flammeur gut feeling?’

Grimory watched her start down the steps and sighed.

“Hope we’re doing the right thing...”

The darkness below made her skin crawl.

Part of her wanted to sprint back to Henrik right now.

But she couldn’t let a classmate wander down here alone.

“Hah... my life sucks.”

Shoulders sagging, Grimory followed Amecitia into the gloom.

* * *

The basement was pitch-black.

Side by side, candle holder raised, they inched forward.

Visibility ended at their shoes, so they clung to each other and shuffled like penguins.

“What happened to all that swagger, Amecitia?”

“You’re shaking too, Grimory.”

“I-it’s cold, that’s all! March chill-flower-frost season!”

“Ha! Same here!”

Neither coped well with darkness; even a drop of water made them jump.

“Hey... you’re sure you’re reading that trace right? You’re not just messing with me? Not getting back at me for getting us kicked out of class? We’re friends, right?”

Amecitia pressed herself against Grimory’s back.

“Actually, ditching you here and leaving sounds pretty tempting.”

“Hey!”

Amecitia smacked her between the shoulder blades.

“Wait, you’re heavy!”

“Please don’t leave me! I’m useless in the dark!”

“Kidding! I’m not abandoning a classmate while we hunt demons.”

Grimory exhaled.

Being with Amecitia aged her a decade; the girl was a walking orphanage full of cranky thirteen-year-olds.

“I sleep with a candle lit, you know.”

“Yet you dove down here first.”

“I thought they’d be lit! How was I supposed to know every single one was out?”

When they’d entered, every candle was dead, wicks still warm, threads of smoke curling upward.

Someone snuffed them on purpose. Stay sharp.

Grimory swallowed.

Then she saw it: the severed red fog, the demon trace, resumed deeper inside.

“No way...”

Amecitia’s hunch had been spot-on.

Everyone joked that Flammeurs possessed a “sixth sense,” but Grimory hadn’t expected bull’s-eye accuracy.

She threw an arm out to stop Amecitia.

“Draw your sword and stand ready.”

“Now? You mean it’s close?”

“Yes, the fog’s back. Could appear anywhere; we’d better be ready.”

“Whoa, top-ranking freshman for a reason. Okay, on it.”

Amecitia pulled the blade from her belt.

Candlelight flashed along the edge, carving bright arcs through the dark.

Now they could see storage doors lining both walls.

Grimory halted at one of them.

B-3

The doors were labeled by section.

“Here?”

“Yeah, the trace ends at the threshold.”

To her eyes the demon’s trail snapped off clean, right in front of this door.

Demon’s probably hiding inside. Report upstairs first... or take a look?

Grimory gnawed a fingernail.

Amecitia tapped her shoulder.

“Let’s just crack it open and peek?”

“...Surprisingly cautious. Thought you’d charge straight in.”

“I do have a brain, you know. Looks like something’s waiting in there.”

Grimory tilted her head.

Avoid combat if possible-Henrik’s warning echoed.

Yet she wanted results, something concrete.

She longed for Henrik to acknowledge her the way he did Amecitia.

Someday, maybe I-

She clenched her teeth, yanked the door open.

-Bang!

Amecitia darted in, sword raised, dropping into a guard stance.

Silence.

A handful of seconds, but they listened harder than they ever had in their lives.

Not a sound.

Grimory lifted her candle and swept the room-thankfully, no demon in sight.

Yet the storeroom was littered with unmistakable evidence that someone had been living here.

“What the-there’s nothing.”

Amecitia flicked her sword shut and slid it over her shoulder.

“That... doesn’t make sense.”

The demon’s trail ended here.

And, given the layout, there was no other way out.

As if sleepwalking, Grimory stepped inside.

-Screeeech-Boom!

The door slammed behind her.

“Grimory...?”

“I-it just closed, that’s all! We’ll open it again-”

-Clank!

The door refused to budge.

“...”

-Clank! Clank! Clank!

Grimory threw her weight against the metal again and again; it never moved an inch.

“Move, Grimory.”

Amecitia stared at the door, reason slipping.

-Whoosh-Clang!

Her blade flashed, but a magic circle flared the instant steel met door, flinging the sword back.

-Ping-Clatter!

The weapon spun from Amecitia’s grip and rang against the floor.

“You trying to break the Professor’s gift?!”

“So what if it breaks? We still have to get out. Or would you rather starve together? Doesn’t look like people wander down here much.”

“...”

Grimory studied the glowing circle on the door, then snapped her fingers.

“It’s the Academy defense system.”

“Defense system?”

Amecitia scooped up her sword and returned to Grimory’s side.

“I heard the underground storerooms double as bunkers if the Academy’s ever attacked. The shield forms a cube with this room at the center.”

“A barrier, huh...? So we cut through?”

“No... an average mage can’t punch through it.”

Grimory’s hand tightened around the little bell in her pocket.

Should I? If I ring it, the Professor might come... but...

He won’t be pleased.

She sighed.

Why did I even open that door?

She slid a glance at Amecitia, who had already lost interest in the door and was poking around with a candlestick.

“Grimory! Over here!”

Amecitia waved her over.

“Found something!”

Apparently, she’d dug up a new lead.

“...”

Grimory cracked a wry smile and went to join her.