The Villain Purchased the Heroine

Class 5's Base.

In this place, bordered by a danger zone with Class 2, the leader and Saint, Diphelia, was deep in thought.

Her considerations stemmed from unease.

'It feels ominous.'

Things were gradually going awry.

The hasty exile of Arterion.

Leon was blocking the First Intermediate Base.

Erica, who sought support, had lost contact while trying to capture Vargan.

The alliance between Class 4 and Class 5 was slowly fracturing.

Upon examining these incidents closely, one could find a common thread.

Class 1.

Class 1 was involved in every incident.

Arterion, Leon, Erica.

All were connected to Class 1, interacting like the cogs of a machine. They couldn't shake the feeling that if Class 1 was the body, they were simply tiny gears.

'The morale of the Allied Forces has greatly diminished.'

Diphelia was aware that this temporary alliance with Erica was not as solid as it seemed.

They joined forces under their shared goal of expelling Class 1, but not everyone welcomed this alliance.

Therefore, Diphelia tried to persuade everyone, preaching their usefulness and the necessity of the alliance, and it seemed they nodded along smoothly.

However, it felt as if someone were intervening.

Like someone scattering seeds in places that wished to see this alliance fail.

Malicious rumors spread rapidly within Class 4 and Class 5.

— They say Erica is aligned with Vargan. Ultimately, the Saint will be backstabbed.

— No, the Saint will betray Erica. Wasn't it Class 5 that took the Second Intermediate Base? The alliance with more members from Class 4 is just waiting to exploit the opportunity at the First Intermediate Base.

— The alliance is just a facade; behind the scenes, they say they're poisoning each other's knives.

Whispers echoed.

No matter how much they tried to prevent it, the horse without legs continued to gallop.

Signs of collapse in the alliance between Class 4 and Class 5 might not be connected to Class 1.

It would be typical if it weren't.

'It should be…'

For some reason, she couldn't help but feel that this was also orchestrated by Class 1. Was it her ugly nature that sought to deny her lack of leadership qualities?

She couldn't shake the thought that it seemed like Class 1, or even Schugenharz Troa Vargan, was behind all this.

Before the Class Battle commenced, Diphelia had the chance to confront him directly at a gathering of the leaders.

They had crossed paths several times due to shared classes, but this was the first time they had a proper conversation.

A suspicious figure.

He gave off the feeling of hiding something.

She felt bad for thinking that, but the image that sprang to her mind about him, having not shared many words, was exactly that.

Still, he was Erica's fiancé, and she couldn't judge a person solely by their appearance, so she tried to think positively.

Yet as incidents occurred one by one.

Every time the initiative gradually shifted towards Class 1.

His grim smile emerged in her mind, sending chills down her spine. She even felt an illusion that he spoke like this.

With that smile that personified wickedness.

She whispered to her.

⎯I can see the future too.

"...."

Diphelia shook her head, trying to dismiss her irrationality.

He is not a Saint.

Sainthood is an incredibly rare occurrence, with only one or two at a time.

Moreover, one must receive the church's saintly baptism to become a saint, and if he had become one, Diphelia would have known.

It is certain.

He is not a saint.

He cannot perform 'miracles'.

He cannot receive 'divine revelations'.

"Yeah, I can't be dizzy."

Anything beyond this is delusion.

She needed to stop her negative thinking and regain her composure.

If she, the leader of Class 5, was floundering around, who would believe and follow her?

Just as Diphelia was trying to calm the confusion and gather her thoughts, someone rushed in, seemingly trying to interrupt her.

The hurried and anxious figure made Diphelia's heart race again, having just calmed down.

She knew who that student was.

She must have come from the slums of a small kingdom far away.

Her name is.

"Frieda! Why are you running over here so urgently?"

Diphelia looked at Frieda. Though her eyes weren't visible, her face turned in that direction.

"I, um… well…."

Frieda gasped for breath but hesitated, as if there was something she wanted to say, yet something was holding her back.

"It's okay. Take your time and calm down. No one will blame you."

This was also a reminder to herself. As Diphelia patiently waited, Frieda clenched her fists, as if finding courage.

"I need to recall the support sent to Erica! It's a trap!"

"What do you mean? A trap?"

Frieda threw off her gloves, presenting her proof. Her hands were clean, without a scratch.

"I was bribed by Vargan⎯⎯!"

*

Diphelia clutched her pounding head.

It was a headache to wrap her mind around Frieda's bombshell revelation.

"So… Vargan is secretly colluding with Erica, and Erica disappearing with Warp Magic was to meet him outside my familiar's jurisdiction for plotting, right?"

"Exactly…."

"Frieda…."

Diphelia sighed.

"I want to believe you, but it sounds too absurd."

Frieda said she had received a proposal from Vargan on the airship coming here. The content involved acting as a spy inside Class 5 and providing information.

In exchange, she received a gold coin as an advance and a curse was placed on her to ensure she wouldn't betray him.

"It's hard to believe, but it's true! There was definitely the mark of a curse on this hand!"

Frieda pushed her white palm forward to emphasize. To the naked eye, it appeared to be an ordinary hand with no marks.

"But there's nothing there…."

"Yes, that's true, but I don't know why… the markings disappeared, allowing me to come to speak like this… Ah, ahh. I can't prove it…."

Frieda's eyes darted around anxiously. She seemed to be trying hard to present valid reasoning.

Diphelia keenly observed her trembling hand through the small bird perched on her shoulder.

'…There is a trace.'

The density and complexity of the mana had been released.

Although she claimed there was nothing, it seemed that some remnants of mana, which had likely just been erased, remained.

That residue inevitably contained the caster's information. Judging by its shape and color, the one who had cast the curse was probably.

Vargan.

Remembering the magic he showed during the entrance exam, Diphelia easily deduced that the owner of that mana was Vargan.

However, she saw no need to share this fact with Frieda.

Considering Frieda's grades in magical construct interpretation, it would be almost impossible for her to realize the existence of such a spell.

Thinking about the grades, it was nearly impossible for her to realize the existence of this spell.

Diphelia particularly excelled in magical interpretation and dispelling, so she could sense and discern that it was Vargan's curse, but Frieda was different.

Not only was she not the caster, she hadn't even caught the slightest hint.

Considering the remaining members in this base, there was no one who could recognize these traces.

If she did catch on, it would actually be quite bizarre.

"Ah, so…"

Frieda opened her mouth, hesitating with a lack of confidence.

"…there's no way to prove that I was cursed."

Is that so…

If only she had said there were no traces left, it might have been resolved easily.

Now, things had just gotten complicated.

Diphelia asked her with a perplexed expression. If her words were true, they would surely need a proper means.

"How were you planning to convey the information?"

This was based on the assumption that her statement was true.

If you scrutinize it closely, contradictions could emerge. If such distortions occur, she would be telling a lie.

"I was going to relay it through the curse… I can't show you now since it's gone."

"That's strange. Curses usually don't come with communication functions."

It would have been more realistic to think that a familiar capable of communication was stationed in a specific place, or that she possessed a large crystal that would be hard to hide.

"No, I could inform you! The information I had to relay was a signal that only conveyed a specific time."

"What does that mean?"

Diphelia furrowed her brows.

"You know that if you resist the curse, the caster can notice, right? He used that to ask me to inform him of the timing."

"What timing?"

Diphelia was surprised by the unusual use of the curse but tried not to show it as she pressed on.

She needed to keep Frieda from having time to think of anything else.

"Answer quickly, Frieda."

Diphelia teased her.

Frieda steadied her trembling voice and spoke with desperation.

"The timing when the number of Class 5 members at the main base drops below ten."

"...!"

Diphelia swallowed hard.

It felt stifling as if her prayer was blocked.

"The reason I think Vargan and Erica have formed a behind-the-scenes alliance is because of this! He provided me with no information other than asking me to tell him the timing. He must have considered the possibility of me betraying him like this."

Wanting to convey that there was no more time, Frieda rushed to spill her words.

Diphelia clutched her startled heart as she listened to her.

"Fortunately, the curse was lifted before reinforcements were sent, so I didn't end up betraying him. Ha, but… when I heard that reinforcements were being sent to Erica… I suddenly thought."

"..."

"What if the reason he lifted the curse on me was that it had become useless? And what if Erica's request for reinforcements is related to the number of members at the base decreasing?"

Such doubts and questions endlessly chained together, ultimately returning to Frieda.

Her voice trembled as if wet with tears.

"And then… wickedly… belatedly… the guilt of almost betraying the class for mere money tightened around me…."

Frieda was speaking her sins as if confessing, with thick tears falling from her eyes.

If it were the usual Diphelia, she would have sat on the floor and embraced her while comforting her.

However, the current Saint could not do that.

There were parts of her words that were incomprehensible. She was shaken because she could not understand.

In the end, Frieda's words were delusions created by suspicion, and there was no clear evidence to support them.

…Still. What if.

What if, just what if.

Suppose her words were true, and she had been bribed by Vargan.

"Alright.

It's definitely Varghan who cursed Frieda. It's reliable information since she observed it herself. Her mission is to report when the number of people at Class 5's base drops below ten.

So, what was he planning to do to make that happen?

⎯Diphelia. I might have trouble contacting you for a while. I have somewhere to go.

Even if she tries not to recall it, Erica's voice reverberates in her ears.

⎯I've found our target. I'll just need about five elite reinforcements.

Erica specifically requested the exact number of reinforcements. And if those people are sent, the remaining number of bases will be seven.

Is this just a coincidence?

Then Frieda speaks up.

⎯What if the reason for lifting the curse on me is that it has become useless? What if Erica requesting reinforcements is connected to the reduction in the number of people at the base?

The curse placed on Frieda has been lifted. Why? Could it be that she was tricked to anticipate this whole situation? Since Erica called out the exact number and reduced the base's population below ten, it became unnecessary?

No, the first possibility is impossible unless one can foresee the future through divine revelation.

The second also wouldn't give a reason to lift Frieda's curse, even if Erica reduced Class 5's base and made her value insignificant. In fact, it would be better not to—betrayal could happen just like now.

So, what is the current situation?

"…Ah."

At that moment, a certain incident strikes Diphelia's mind hard.

The two are engaged.

However, it seems their relationship isn't as good as one might think.

To alleviate such doubts, recently Varghan challenged Erica to a rank battle and lost spectacularly. Everyone speculated that it was to give her Cattia.

But let's think about it carefully.

What if that incident is not separate but connected?

What if that previous rank battle is related to the current situation?

Cattia is an absolute and essential score at Academia.

It can't just be casually brushed off like handing over a few coins.

Some might sneer and say that the couple is so close that they committed such corruption—yet most people thought differently.

Surely, something appropriate must have been exchanged.

This was the general perception.

So, isn't it possible that this exchange is happening in the current class battle, where Cattia could be punished?

For example, helping with the strategy of another class or something…

'I feel like my head will explode.'

She felt Erica was a trustworthy person. She hadn't known her long, but at least she didn't seem like someone who would betray people.

That doesn't mean everything should be run solely on sentiment.

Maybe she trusted Erica too much. Even if Frieda's words were false, look at the current base.

There are only seven people to defend this vast castle.

Isn't that a clear crisis?

Diphelia's staff made from wood suddenly grew rapidly, extending along with the chair she was sitting on.

It reached close enough to stroke the sobbing Frieda, feeling their body temperatures as they closed the distance, and Diphelia enveloped her.

"Thank you, Frieda."

Diphelia smiled kindly. Although she couldn't fully grasp Frieda's statement, there was indeed some truth in her words.

"I will order a retreat. I feel uneasy with so few people at home."

"U, Saint…"

"You're really courageous."

Frieda buried her head in the floor and sobbed loudly. Diphelia felt like she would also burst into tears.

It's depicted as a warm scene.

However, she did not know.

The Saint, who loves people and trusts them, does not know.

Right now, Frieda.

As if she had received forgiveness for her unclean sins, was crying sorrowfully with her lips.

Curling up—.

Like a crescent moon, it was rising long."