"Pleasure... pleasure above all."
The most well-known version of the Midnight Axiom.
The Art of Burning Heretics, Saint Yves-Rémi De Miraval, 1099.
“Have Katrina or Connor replied to your [Emails]?” FF-Class ’Ego Witch’ Carmen Asturias asked as her fingers knotting and unknotting, tone like an out-of-tune violin. “I just…I want to know if they’re safe. Because I have this feeling…that something horrible is coming for us…”
Although the wall destroyed on the first day of the siege had been patched together, the classroom was cold—far too cold. Carmen looked around, desperate to find any sort of comfort, but the windows were boarded with wooden planks and the lightbulbs were kept off so their Radiation wouldn’t be detected by the bombs’ Algorithms. Thus, the lady found no light—neither in the room nor in the faces of her classmates. “What have we done to deserve this?”
“The most heinous crime a human may commit—being born in the wrong country.” FFF-Class ’Javelinist’ Jacques Dreux happily whistled as he flipped a page of his fresh copy of the DAILY EVERNIGHTMARE—courtesy of the Rat King, the sole sovereign of the Miraval sewer system, who had found a way to smuggle it in through the abandoned heretical system of tunnels connecting the city to an isolated spot on the eastern shore of the Natural Reserve.
“I like both Katrina and Connor, but let’s be real—they’re filthy nobles. Those rich pieces of shit, right now, are probably sipping tea in some underground bunker, waiting for a submarine to save their asses once the city falls—unlike us.” He lowered the newspaper and met Carmen’s trembling eyes with a vicious smile. “If I were you, I’d get some poison ready for when the Korinthians sack the city. You know what…ahem…usually happens to women in these situations, don’t you? And if you want, I can tell you where to buy the good stuff.” He ended with a wink at her now-frightened face, then returned to the newspaper, scanning through the transcript of yesterday’s parliamentary session about the siege. The dialectics were far too understandable and far too heated, meaning that the politicians were testing the waters with the public for some not-so-ideal options for the fate of the Class F students.
“Nonsense. The Holy Rolandish Empire would never allow the fall of its oldest institution, and more importantly, of its most precious sons and daughters—its future!” F-Class ’Tin Blade’ Sahel proudly declared, and his sister vigorously nodded beside him, sharing his patriotism.
“Don’t make me laugh, Sahel.” Jacques didn’t even look up from his newspaper. “Our Unholy Rotten Confederation doesn’t stand a chance against the dynamism and boldness of our enemy. The Demmies have only to kick in the door, and the whole structure will come crashing down. It’s over—just accept it.”
Mr. De La Guadalupe always knew one more than the Dawn King, but now he sounds so flat and over-cautious—the Suzerain bastard is sure we’re going to lose…the question is why…
“So…what shall we do?” F-Class ’Scarecrow Casimir’ Piekatz whispered from a dark corner of the room, knees pulled to his chest. “We can’t escape, and we can’t fight. Should we just do nothing but wait for the inevitable?”
“What shall we do, you say? RELAX!” The ’Javelinist’ suddenly rose from his chair, fist high. “Since the day I joined this Academy, I haven’t had a single day of good rest, working myself to the bone just to end up millions of Marini in debt. But now, thanks to this siege, everything that enslaves the modern man has been suspended, and I can finally enjoy my free time!” He flopped back into his chair, stretching out his limbs like a cat. “I know it’s wrong, but Sloth really is the sweetest of sins. If they save us? Great. If we die? Well, nothing could’ve stopped it anyway. So let’s just relax and enjoy the forbidden fruits we were too afraid to taste while worrying about the future.”
“I half-agree with my teammate.” FF-Class ’Gravedigger’ Derserk Rouge chimed in. “Instead of letting the enemy feast on our bodies, we should die on our own terms. And you, Jacques, ought to set the example and go first.” The ’Gravedigger’ handed the ’Javelinist’ a coil of black rope, woven from the fibers of the Everdarker Mirage, a tree that grew only in the most secluded forests of the Evernightmare Kingdom. ”This is robust enough to end the life of a Class S—make us proud!”
“Sure, dude. Later on.” Jacques awkwardly laughed at Derserk as he put the rope in his [Inventory]—that thing was worth a fortune. “But anyway, Pussyserk has got the right idea. Trust him and go make your preparations before it’s too la—”
“WHY ARE YOU SO UNCONCERNED?!” Carmen’s scream collided with the conversation like a tsunami, shattering the atmosphere. All of them flinched, speechless, because no one had ever imagined such a solar girl could twist her angelic features into such a hateful expression. “I mean…I thought you’d be more worried about your friends’ lives…” As soon as the words escaped her trembling lips, Carmen slapped both hands over her mouth, head bowed in shame.
Jacques sighed, folded his newspaper, and walked toward her, leaning down and waiting until her teary red eyes lifted to meet his eager ones. “Why are you so sure I don’t already have something in mind to save our asses?”
*SMAAAASH!*
The door slammed against the wall so violently that all the students’ spines stiffened. In the doorway stood a man drenched in sweat, his lavish silk shirt plastered to the dense mass of hair on his chest.
“G–Good morning, Mr. Diaz. Why are you here? I thought lessons were suspended…” Casimir tried to greet him, but the ’Raging Hornet’ didn’t even consider his or any of his students’ presence. Instead, Mr. Diaz stormed straight toward his desk, yanked open the bottom drawer, and slapped his hand onto a hidden button.
*Clunk!*
A square section of the floor slid open, revealing a secret recess stuffed with stacks of banknotes. ”Perfect, they are all here.” Mr Diaz exclaimed before hastily putting all of them into a gym bag.
“Ahem…Mr. Diaz…I’m sure what you’re doing is…vital for the city’s defense, but may I ask you to spare us a minute of your precious time to tell us what the hell is happening?!” Casimir begged, and all his classmates nodded in support. However, their answer was the darkest stare all of them had ever seen.
”What is happening!” The ’Raging Honet’ bellowed as soon as he finished filling his bag. “MR. ANHOGI IS DEAD—DEAD! OUR STRONGEST ASSET, GONE FOREVER!” The revelation was followed by a dense silence. Carmen’s legs buckled and collapsed to her knees, tears streaming even before she realized she was crying. “WE HAVE NO ONE LEFT TO STOP THE KORINTHIANS! NO ONE! THIS DOOMED SHITHOLE IS FINISHED BUT I AIN'T DYING HERE. I’M GOING TO LEAVE—I’M GOING TO LIVE!” He finished with a violent punch that broke his desk in two.
“Sure, dude, but before you go, mind elaborating on Mr. Anhogi?” Jacques calmly asked.
“We were assaulting the Juggernaut,” Mr. Diaz snarled. “We’d won. It was done. AND THEN…and then that Anima showed up out of nowhere. His damn snakes shattered our formations and he…he—HE DECAPITATED VERDAN!” A blend of rage and humiliation twisted the face of the ’Raging Hornet,’ but Jacques simply scratched his chin.
“A tragedy, indeed. But…ahem…would you like to satisfay a tiny curiosity of mine.” The professor tilted his head. “Where exactly was Mr. Durere during the battle?”
“At the Miraval Dam,” Mr. Diaz explained. ”He volunteered to act as bait for the whole operation—ALL USELESS!”
“So let me get this straight. You’ve attacked Mother Korinna only because the enemy was focused on the Dam, and it’s been seven days since anyone has seen, heard, or contacted Mr. Durere?” Mr. Diaz nodded with a hint of confusion while Jacques failed to suppress a pleasant sneer. “Splendid. That’s all I needed to know.” The student cheerfully waved at his professor. “Bon voyage, Mr. Diaz, and enjoy Naturia! It’s wonderful in this part of the ye—”
“Not so fast. Esteban isn’t going anywhere.” A bear trapped in a business suit made his entrance in the classroom. “Your dear Aoife is in a hospital bed because of the strain she had endured to hold up that bridge and save everyone’s life, but instead of visiting her, you’re here whining like a little bitch—pathetic.”
“Leave, or you’re dead, Gus!—[Sting]!” The 'Raging Hornet's' arm blazed crimson. “I’ll kill anyone who blocks my way!”
Dh. Miraval didn’t flinch. “Esteban, I’ll count to three, and if you’re still in your fighting stance, I’ll use the full powers granted to me by Article 19 of the Academy Code. One. Two. Thr—” Mr. Diaz aimed straight at his boss’s large and ugly face, but to his astonishment, Dh. Miraval dodged it by tilting his head slightly to the right. “Please, Esteban, don’t embarrass yourself in front of your students.” The ’Eclectic Dirigist’ sighed his disappointment.
“SHUT UP!” A storm of crimson punches followed, but every one got dodged with lazy precision, as if the bear already knew where they’d land. “WHY STOP ME!? THERE’S NO HOPE! THE DEMMIES WILL KILL US ALL! DO YOU REALLY WANT TO DIE FOR A BUNCH OF STRANGERS!?”
“Yes, Esteban. We are Essentias, and dying on the Emperor’s sake is our job.” He adjusted his glasses. “Have you ever broken your back working twelve hours a day, every single morning? No, of course not. Why? Because the peasants wait safely in their warm homes while we bathe the battlefield with our blood. Peasants work, and we fight to protect them. That’s the social contract, and that’s how we nobles have earned our privileges. So, you ungrateful piece of shit—TAKE YOUR FUCKING RESPONSIBILITY!” Realizing he had gone too far, Gus gasped and softened his tone. “Think about your students, Esteban. Do you really want to abandon them? Has nothing blossomed between you two in all this time together?”
Mr. Diaz glanced left and right, meeting the gaze of all his students and recalling the time they’d spent together. Only then did he make his decision. ”Fuck my students, fuck my job, and fuck my nation. I’m a free ma—”
*Tzzzzz—BOOOOOOOOM!*
Mr. Diaz’s right arm detonated, and as his body hit the ground he began convulsing violently, screaming through clenched teeth as sheer pain seized every nerve—his limbs twitching like in an epileptic attack.
“Esteban, do you remember the Memento implanted in your arm—the one my family paid for?” Mr. Diaz gave him a raging look, unable to speak due to the [Malus.VasoconstrictiveShock]. ”Jacques, please.” Dh. Miraval snapped his fingers.
“Sure, boss.” The ’Javelinist’ pulled a black box adorned with a white ribbon from his [Inventory]. Gus then cut his palm, staining the ribbon, which untied itself once his DNA was verified. The black box expanded, and Gus pulled out dozens of folders from inside, each stamped with the phrase ULTRA SECRET.
“Esteban, this one is yours.” Gus opened a folder labeled with Mr Diaz’s name. “The ‘Raging’ [Prefix] means your body overproduces adrenaline, and with the right chemical mix, we can rupture your Mana Homeostasis and turn the wasp into an armless bee.” Gus tapped the file. ”What is this? Your contingency plan.” His pleasant smirk clashed with the furious stare of his subordinate writhing in pain. “Don’t worry—you’re not special. Every professor has one—Vice-Principal Durere, Principal Miraval, and even me. All personally designed by me and optimized by Jacques.” The ’Javelinist’ made a little bow, proud of the acknowledgment, but Mr. Diaz neither saw that nor heard the last part, losing consciousness. After that, Gus lifted his limp body onto his massive shoulder and headed for the door.
“Ahem…I’m sure you all understand that desertion and mutiny are matters for a military tribunal. Therefore…ahem…nothing happened here—agreed?” All the students nodded in silence as he left the room.
“Without Mr. Anhogi, it’s over. Jacques—you have to do it.” Derserk pointed at a tree outside, very clearly suggesting its use.
“Stop, Derserk. No one will die anymore. The Emperor and the army will come to our rescue. We have to stay positive!” Carmen insisted, but her strong words were riddled by a tone full of vibrations.
“Le governerino is gonna save my asserino? Holy shit, Carmen, stop being so delusional.” Jacques snickered. ”We’re Class F, and to them, we’re worth less than ants. All S, A, and E classes are already secure underground. The only assets still exposed are the expendable ones—us. The Emperor has no reason to come here.”
“You’re exaggerating. The Emperor is bound by honor to the Miraval Family. They can’t just let us die.” Casimir argued fierly, but Jacques’s sneer only inflated.
“Casimir, it’s called realpolitik. Let me give you the dumbest example I’ve in mind to help you understand. Imagine a Hydrail, featuring two tracks. Chained on one, there are the seven of us, and on the other, millions of unlucky citizens, and a train is about to run them over. However, next to these tracks, there is a lever the government can flip and kill us instead. What would you choose if you were at the head of the government? Save millions of lives, or uphold a two-thousand-year-old promise?” Casimir scratched his head, unable to answer. “A government might commit any sort of crime and still appear virtuous by claiming it was for the ‘greater good.’ ‘We killed millions to save billions.’ ’We couldn’t foresee the consequences.’ Etc. They can burn innocents alive inside the Golden Bull and still call themselves heroes. Meanwhile, we’re the greedy bastards for demanding our right to live.” Jacques’s sarcasm in his tone drained away, replaced by cold hatred. “So I’m not waiting for my government to let me die. Instead, I’ll break my own chain, and slit the throat of the bastard who was ready to pull that fucking switch.”
“Ahem…but what about the millions of people on the other Hydrail?” Sahel asked.
“If the train was coming toward them in the first place, there must have been a reason, mustn’t there?” Jacques raised both hands. “Deresponsibilization would lead to the same outcome later, only with many more people on that same rail. I know it’s cruel to say, but real life isn’t a hypothetical scenario, and even the most advanced Hytrain would derail once its wheels got greased with the remains of just a few thousand fellows.” An awkward silence was the reaction.
“So, how are you planning to free us?” Casimir finally asked, too confused to argue with Jacques’s self-confidence.
“I have a plan,” Jacques replied. “But first, Casimir, may I ask you to go to the bathroom.”
“To do what?”
“Drown yourself.” Casimir blinked, stared at him for a moment, then obediently left the room and headed for the basement.
“Oshira, Sahel, you two go outside and pretend to train. Check if anyone’s watching us.” The siblings nodded, summoned their scimitars, and moved out.
After a short while, all three returned.
“Thirty-seven days,” Casimir reported, his new shirt now completely soaked.
“No one spying,” Oshira added, although Jacques immediately noticed an almost-invisible blood droplet on her short black hair.
“Perfect! Now we just have to wa—” As he concluded the sentence, the door burst open, and a devastated man staggered inside, shoving a blueprint into Jacques’s hands.
“NEVER THE FUCK AGAIN!” Jude shouted just that one sentence before collapsing into his chair and immediately falling asleep.
“What is this?” Casimir asked, peering over Jacques’s shoulder. “Looks like the drawings of my uncle Fyodor’s fireworks.” The class gathered around the desk as Jacques unrolled it.
“It’s the blueprint of Mother Korinna, the Juggernaut bombarding the city right now.” Everyone flinched. “Despite its magnificence, the ship is an old model with a tiny design flaw. You know, when the first engineers built the Integrated Antimagic Reactor, they were terrified it might explode—idiots, but kinda understandable since they were breaking a frontier. So they kept the reactor’s cistern separate from the engine’s and only connected them when absolutely necessary.” He pointed to a small square beneath the hull. “So, where does the engine get its water? Through this tiny hatch under the ship, opening to refuel before each movement. Now imagine someone is walking at the bottom of the lake holding a bomb. And imagine that when Mother Korinna opens her intake hatch, it sucks in both the water and the bomb, too.” He snapped his fingers. “BOOM. It gets carried straight into the engine room and explodes, incapacitating the Juggernaut."
“…Bomb?” Oshira muttered.
“Oh, right. HEY, JUDE—WHERE’S MY FUCKING BOMB?!” Jacques screamed directly into the sleepy young man’s ear.
“The Demmies caught the courier,” Jude growled without opening his eyes. “We have to wait a couple of days for the second shipment. Now shut up and let me sleep.” He immediately resumed snoring, leaving Jacques with an expression darker than a funeral one.
“…It’s over…It’s fucking over.” Jacques immediately directed himself toward the door. “Plan B, guys, I’m escaping to Naturia. See you in Hell!”
“Wait, Jacques.” Derserk blocked the exit. “I know how to make a bomb.” He mumbled as he fixed his red-round glasses.
For the plan’s sake, I’ll let you take the credit.
Himself bitterly declared.
“Pussyserk, please. We’re talking about blowing up a Juggernaut, not a normal ship!”Jacques rebutted.
“Exactly. My father had dedicated his entire life to destroying that ship. He had an entire room wallpapered with blueprints, full of analysis notes, and as his successor, he made me memorize every single one.” He started to name every single part of the blueprint without missing once. “I can replicate a bomb he had projected to destroy it. Yeah, maybe it won’t be perfect, but I can assure you it will be strong enough to disable the reactor inlet. Trust me.”
Jacques raised his index finger, then opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, closed it again, and so on for a full minute. But, in the end, he violently shook the hand of the ’Gravedigger.’ “Fine! Pussyserk, you’re our demolition expert.” He moved his attention toward the others, pointing at all of them one by one. ”So, that’s the plan. Pussyserk, you will create the bomb. Oshira and Sahel, you will follow him to ensure no Korinthian spy discovers our plan. Casimir, prepare yourself for a walk with fish. Jude, you sleep. Any objection?” The ’Class F’ nodded in approval, except for a single person.
“Jacques…” the ’Ego Witch’ whispered, shrinking into her seat. “And…what about the two of us? What shall we do?” The ’Javelinist’ smiled at her words, walking in front of her. ”What?…,” She embarrassedly mumbled as Jacques analyzed each part of her body.
“What are we doing?” Jacques repeated softly as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling Carmen close enough that she could feel his heartbeat.
“You and I are going to…
take a cruise on Mother Korinna.”
