"I'm intervening immediately."
Lorraine bent her knees and summoned a shroud of Jet-Black, ready to leap at a moment's notice. Her minions, startled, tried to stop her.
"Th-that would be a problem!"
"Wait a moment, Young Lady. There is nothing to be gained by intervening right now."
One particularly calm minion stepped forward. Lorraine tilted her head, gesturing for him to continue.
"Our objective is to find evidence of Serne Aindark's crimes. If we rush in now and question her, she will simply remove the feather from Simon's body and deny everything."
"...So you're telling me to just stand by and watch while Simon's mind and body are being controlled?"
Having fallen victim to mind control, Simon had become Serne's puppet, moving as she commanded regardless of his own will, his emotions being exploited. As his friend, it was a sight she could hardly bear.
But the minion spoke with cold logic.
"It is a necessary sacrifice, Young Lady."
At the word 'sacrifice,' Lorraine's pupils flashed a dangerous red. A few minions flinched and stepped back, but the one speaking to her held his ground.
"You must see the forest, not the trees. If we fail to expose her misdeeds now and break this vicious cycle, she will continue to target student Simon in the future. He may be tormented for his entire time at Kizen. Do you truly wish for him to be unhappy, Young Lady?"
Finally, Lorraine withdrew her Jet-Black. The minion let out a deep, internal sigh of relief.
"Just a little longer," she said through gritted teeth. "I'll watch."
Simon and Serne faithfully played their part as a couple as they strolled through Langerstine. While Simon was well-versed in the formal rules of escorting, he'd never been on a casual street date like this. Moreover, Serne was still an exhausting person to be around, and the act was taking a considerable toll on his mental energy.
'...I'm tired. I wish those tails would just leave already.'
He subtly shifted his gaze, but he could still see the agents from the Ivory Tower following from a distance.
"Simon, Simon! Let's go do that!" Serne was clearly enjoying herself. Shopping had long since been forgotten; their outing had devolved into an exploration of Langerstine's winding alleys.
"Shouldn't we go buy our clothes soon—"
"Hurry!" she insisted, grabbing him and pulling him along.
'Why is she so excited, anyway?'
The place she dragged him to was a common carnival stall where one throws balls to knock down dolls. Business seemed to be booming, as quite a few couples were gathered around.
"Welcome!" the owner called out with a wide grin. "A game for each of you?"
"Oh, I'm not very good at this, so I'll just watch," Serne said coyly, placing a ball in Simon's hand.
A flicker of bewilderment crossed Simon's face.
'She's the one who wanted to do this.'
"Oh, sir! By any chance... are you a necromancer?"
He was surprised the owner had recognized him so quickly. Rather than deny it, Simon simply nodded.
"Necromancer customers are over here!"
Suddenly, the curtain behind the dolls was pulled back, revealing a new set of targets nearly twice as far away. The dolls themselves were also much smaller.
'So that's how it is.' Simon gave a bitter smile.
"Black magic is forbidden, but would you like to try?" the owner asked.
"I'll try." He never refused a challenge. Simon turned to Serne. "Which one do you want?"
"That white bear over there!"
He immediately spread his legs shoulder-width apart, took his stance, and lifted his knee. He brought the ball, held in both hands, behind his head, then transitioned to a motion bringing it to his chest before throwing with all his might as he extended his leg forward.
It was pure strength, honed by his work in the fief and his combat magic training. It sounded less like a thrown ball and more like a cannonball. The ordinary people nearby stared at Simon in surprise.
The ball barely grazed the edge of the doll as it flew past. Simon clicked his tongue.
"So close! You can do it, you can do it!" Serne cheered, waving her arms.
He hadn't really cared at first, but now a competitive spark was lit. With someone cheering for him and a crowd watching, he felt he had to give it his all. With a serious expression, Simon grabbed another ball and threw it the same way.
With another sharp crack, the ball hit the doll's ear and fell.
"Ooh! So close!" the owner hyped up the atmosphere.
A strange smile played on Simon's lips.
'I think I get it now.'
He'd figured it out. It took some of the fun out of it, but he threw the last ball with all his might. This time, he hit the doll squarely on its side, but as expected, it didn't fall.
The owner laughed loudly. "Haha! That last one was really close! Another round?"
"No, I'm done. It was fun," Simon said, turning away without any regrets.
Serne took out a coin, looking disappointed.
"Then I'll try next!"
Given her athletic ability, it was obvious she would never hit it. Simon tried to stop her, but she had already paid.
"Simon, go buy some ice cream over there!"
"Huh? We just had some."
"I want more! Oh! The ice cream man is leaving!"
As she kept pestering him, Simon had no choice but to go.
"Pfft!"
Left alone, she hopped on the spot and threw the ball with a messy flail of her arms and legs. The ball didn't even go forward, just slamming into the ground and bouncing away. Boisterous laughter erupted from the crowd.
"The young lady is cute."
"Keep trying!" the men watching chuckled.
Once Simon disappeared into the crowd, Serne raised the corners of her lips in a smirk and swept back her long, ivory hair. A white feather fell out, and she secretly gripped it along with the ball. She hopped again and threw. Everyone watching expected another failure, but...
Suddenly, the ball was engulfed in lightning and shot forward like a dazzling flash.
"What...?" the onlookers murmured, dumbfounded.
'KA-BOOM!'
As the ball struck the center of the doll, the wooden platform beneath it exploded, revealing a thick iron pillar. The doll hadn't just been placed on the shelf; it had been bolted down. The ball, not content with just exposing the rig, continued onward, shattering the back wall and causing the entire warehouse behind the stall to collapse.
The area was shrouded in black dust. The owner, who had been standing with his mouth agape, could only stare in bewilderment. He flinched in terror as Serne approached.
"You seem to enjoy messing with necromancers, don't you?" she asked with a sweet smile, pulling a coin purse from her Subspace and dropping it at his feet. "This is for the repairs. I wish you prosperity."
She walked away, her ivory hair fluttering behind her. Just then, Simon returned with two ice creams. As if nothing had happened, Serne greeted him with the gait of a graceful lady.
"What was all that about?" Simon asked.
"I don't know. I think it just broke!"
After they left, the owner collapsed to the ground, a dark stain spreading across his trousers.
They visited a few more clothing stores, but Serne, declaring that none of them were satisfactory, would only glance around before leaving.
Perhaps noticing Simon was growing tired, she showed some flexibility and suggested they stop by a necromancer shop he liked. Simon's focus immediately returned, like a fish to water.
When Simon lingered in front of a Skeleton Archer set for a long time, Serne said, "Buy it."
"Ah, I'll use my own money for this!"
"I said I'd pay for everything." Before Simon could argue, Serne was already at the counter, paying. Rich as she was, her first instinct was always to throw money at things.
"Sir," the clerk said, checking the inventory. "I'm sorry, but we only have one set of the Vanilla brand left."
"What about other brands?"
It had to be Vanilla. When Simon gave the clerk a pleading look, he was handed a clipboard and a pen.
"If you write down your address, we can deliver it within two days."
"Is delivery to Roc Island possible?"
"Of course!"
The shop was so cramped and crowded that Simon and Serne decided to step outside to fill out the form.
"Ugh, this handwriting is terrible." The clerk had written the form himself, but it was so sloppily scrawled that it was nearly illegible.
Serne, checking her makeup in a hand mirror, pointed to a spot.
"Looks like you're supposed to write your name here," she said. "The address goes below that."
"Ah, you're right."
Simon nodded and was just about to move the quill when...
'KABOOOOOM!'
Without warning, pitch-black cannonballs rained down from the sky and exploded. Flames erupted from the buildings as people screamed and fled.
"Aaaahhhhh!"
"It's a terrorist attack!"
The peaceful, everyday life was shattered, and the street instantly descended into pandemonium.
"What's going on?" Simon shot up from his seat.
'THWACK!'
The moment he stood, a red dagger embedded itself in the very document he had been about to sign. "Well now, I was wondering when you'd make your appearance."
A faint smile played on Serne's lips as she conjured a feather at her fingertips. With a flick, she sent it flying. A sharp 'clang' echoed in midair as the feather deflected a dagger, sending it plunging into the ground. "Stay out of this, Simon," she cooed. A moment later, a crimson streak of light descended like a comet. Serne produced a handful of feathers, scattering them before her. A deafening 'BOOM' ripped through the air. As Simon flinched back, he could see the two girls through the smoke and chaos, locked in a stalemate—a feather pressed against a dagger as they glared at each other. "Get away from Simon!"
The black-haired attacker's eyes blazed. "What kind of game are you playing with him!"
Simon's eyes widened in disbelief. "Lo-Lorraine?"
Behind her, figures in black robes descended one by one, landing silently. Though instantly surrounded, Serne's expression remained relaxed, her smile sweet. "Your skulking around like a stray cat was getting on my nerves. I was wondering when you'd finally show your face." In response, a torrent of black magic—flames and lightning—erupted from Serne's direction. Lorraine and her minions retreated in a blur to evade the onslaught. "Ah!"
They were spies from the Ivory Tower. All of them seemed unharmed, having likely blocked the initial strike with defensive magic. "I'll handle Serne," Lorraine declared, glancing back at her followers. They nodded and moved to engage the Ivory Tower pursuers. Simultaneously, Lorraine and Serne clashed, unleashing a series of thunderous explosions. Feathers and daggers became a dazzling, deadly blur.
"You know, I was getting rather annoyed by your constant surveillance. I suppose I'll have to teach you some manners," Serne added, fanning a cluster of feathers between her fingers. "I'll turn you into my pet and have you licking my boots."
"You'll have a hole in your neck before that happens!"
In the blink of an eye, Kizen and the Ivory Tower were at war in the middle of the street.

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